#in that weird chapel scene before the murder the only one who was there and turned up alive afterwards was ROSA

[kushanna]

this 👆🏻 has been driving me so crazy. i know maria says this all the time, but it's about the "we aren't beatrice" for me. if i'm supposed to believe her words, then i just!! seem to have come to a bit of a standstill!! if there's no more than these 17 people on the island, maria directly acknowledges none of the ones around her are beatrice, while insisting beatrice gave her the letter, then well!! unless she's been brainwashed in some sort of way, well!! "everyone was trying to make her believe" would maybe lead me to assume certain things but since "we aren't beatrice"!! i'm reaching my limit here!!

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 10: Truth or Truth

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which the truth comes out.

Word count: 6.6k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

Well, this is one crazy chapter 👀 Let me know what you think because I’m thirsty for feedback. But also don’t be to harsh on me I’m fragile.

.

.

.

The last Sunday of the month. Laura Hilfgard’s flat. Y/N’s book was almost finished and ready for submission, and she was at the top of her game. She’d been putting off everything else to write, and for the first time in her life, everything was happening according to plan. Last year’s Y/N would’ve spent every passing moment waiting for something to go wrong. The writer-to-be Y/N, however, was living her best life.

“Are you sure you want to omit the confrontation scene in chapter ten?” Laura asked once they’d stopped for a tea break.

Y/N stirred her tea slowly, still contemplating her handwritten notes. “You don’t need drama in every chapter. It’s not realistic.”

“It’s fiction,” said Laura. Y/N glanced up with an eyebrow lifted, and the agent exhaled as she raised her hands, palms out. “Sorry, ma’am. Your book.”

Blowing into her tea, Y/N closed her pink notebook and took a sip. “Sorry, it’s just the story is based on what happened to me.”

“Oh?” Laura blinked, sounding both surprised and intrigued.

“I changed a few things,” Y/N said. “But yeah, my boyfriend used to be my neighbour. We met in his treehouse twelve years ago.”

“Your boyfriend is Harry Styles, right?”

“You know him?”

“Everyone does.” Laura stopped stirring her tea to add more sugar with the same spoon. She’d been stirring and adding sugar for the last five minutes, which made Y/N wonder if she was going to drink at all. “I’ve heard so many stories about you two. You make a fine couple.”

“You’ve heard stories about us?” Y/N carefully set down her cup and smiled questioningly at the woman. “From whom?”

“Everyone,” Laura said and finally brought the cup to her red lips. Y/N watched Laura take the first sip of her overly sweet tea, and the only thing that came to Y/N’s mind was the likelihood of a connection between Laura and Harry.

Impossible. Harry would never have interfered. Not after their fight about John Conall. Besides, Blake had been the one who’d suggested her to Laura, not Harry. So how could Harry have possibly done anything?

Or could he?

What if he’d contacted Laura right after Blake had given the manuscript to her? No, Harry would never lie to Y/N. Harry, of all people, would understand how much this meant to her, that she’d accomplished everything on her own without his help. Harry, of all people, would believe in her.

Once she got back to her flat, she found herself pacing back and forth in her living room, clutching her phone to her chest as she tried to decide if she should just call and ask him. Him saying he had no connection to her literary agent would put Y/N out of her misery. But that would prove that she didn’t trust him, and he’d be so angry, and they would fight again. Things had been going so well recently she didn’t want to mess it up. Although there was a tiny part of her doubting everything, mostly herself…

Her phone rang, and she jumped. It was Harry. Biting her nail, she slid her thumb across the screen to answer and tried her best not to sound like she’d been overthinking. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, are you working?”

“I just got back from Laura’s.”

“Is the book done?”

“Yup. We’ve submitted it to some publishers, and all we have to do now is wait.”

“That’s my girl.”

The question about Laura was on the tip of her tongue. She bit her nail instead and took a seat on the couch as he went on, “Don’t hate me for what I’m about to say, okay?”

“Okay.” She kept her tone light and neutral while unconsciously picking at a thread on her skirt.

“I forgot that I’d have dinner with my dad. I know I said I’d take you out tonight–”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly and sat on her hand to stop her fidgeting. “You’ve been spending quite a lot of time with your dad.”

“Yeah,” he sighed contentedly. “Now that I don’t have to hide it from my mum or Gemma anymore, I can support Dad and Emi without feeling bad about it.”

“Support? As in...financially?” She hoped she didn’t sound too judgy.

He was quiet for a full second. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Harry…”

“No, hear me out. They owed the bank a lot of money because of the accident. I only helped them pay their debt. It’s not like I’m buying them a car or a house.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “You’ve been giving them so many expensive things, and Isaac told me you’ve also been helping Emi get back to acting.”

“ ‘Help’ as in I got her to castings. She still needs to audition like everyone else. I don’t ask directors to give her roles that she’s incompetent at, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything.” Maybe she was. “It’s just...you can’t live their lives for them, Harry.”

“I don’t. I’m only trying to help.”

“You can help, and you should. Just don’t overspend on them.”

“They’re family.”

She almost told him ‘not really’ and ‘I still don’t trust them’, but then let it go once he fell silent. “That wasn’t a fight, was it?” she asked.

“Of course not, kid.” His low laugh brought her a sense of relief. She straightened before leaning into the couch, staring at one of the cracks on her ceiling.

“I gotta go now. Talk to you later?” he said cautiously.

So she kept her tone light. “Sure. Have fun acting.”

“Have fun writing. Love you.”

She giggled as he kissed the phone.

“I love you, too.”

.

.

.

Since Gemma ran an online business and therefore wasn’t tied to a desk and a chair, she had decided to stay in London for a couple of days. Those couple of days had turned into two weeks and felt like two freaking months. Time slowed down when she was with Isaac; not that she complained.

She’d been with him constantly since they’d left Holmes Chapel. She wasn’t sure what they were. Friends? Way past that. Lovers? Not quite there. Friends who kissed? Well, sure, that might be a suitable label for their ‘relationship’. Gemma hated labels anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Have you spoken to him?” Isaac asked, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They were at his house, curled up in his bed, watching Netflix. Almost like a happy couple.

“Harry?” Her eyebrows furrowed as one of the characters was being brutally murdered on the screen. Isaac leaned forward and pressed pause right before the dead body collapsed.

Gemma gasped, “Hey!”

“You’ve already watched this,” he chuckled and removed the laptop from her lap before she could resume the movie.

“Still, that’s the best scene!”

He shook his head, placed the laptop on the other side of him and turned around, facing her. “Have you spoken to Asher?”

“No. He’s probably forgotten about me.”

“Gem…”

“Can we not mention my ex at this moment?”

“He’s not your ex yet, and you don’t want to mention him at any moment.” Isaac took her hand and brought it to his lap. “You need to break up with him.”

“He already broke up with me.”

“He said it was a break.”

She groaned and hugged a pillow to her chest. “He said it so he could hook up with whoever he wanted. He’s done this before, disappeared for a week or two. I was pretty sure he was hooking up with his secretary at the time, then he came back and acted like nothing was wrong. I just...I was stupid and I was in love with him. But not anymore. I’ve had enough.”

“So you’re just gonna wait until he reaches out to you, and then break up with him?”

“Yes. I want it to hurt.”

Isaac screwed up his face. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? After all that he’s done to me?”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” He tried to sound unbothered but she could see right through him. “Is that the reason why you’re so determined to make him feel equally bad?”

“No!” She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “I just don’t want him to think he’s so important. I’m not gonna reach out first. Now can we please get back to the movie?”

“Fine,” he huffed and brought the laptop back to his lap.

As she snuggled up to him and he draped his arm around her shoulders again, the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand interrupted them. She groaned when he withdrew himself from her.

“It could be Lee,” he said. Lee was his manager.

But it wasn’t Lee. She could see it on his face as he put down his phone as soon as he’d read the messages.

“Who’s that?”

“Your half-sister,” he said, drawing her back into his arms.

She lay her head on his chest, her eyebrows pulled together. “She’s still your model?”

“We had our last shoot yesterday. If you’d come, you could have met her.”

“It’s so weird that I haven’t.” She tilted her head up to look at his face. “Do you think she’s scared of me? Because I’m not as easy-going as Harry.”

“Probably.” A grin stretched his pink lips as she weakly hit his chest.

“Did you ever fancy her?” She arched an eyebrow so he mimicked her expression.

“Are you jealous of your own sister?”

“Half-sister.”

Her irritated tone got him laughing. “I mean, she is pretty.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, gazing at the ceiling. “Maybe a little.”

Gemma poked his side and he jerked away, doubling over and protecting his sensitive spots from her tickling. They nearly fell off the bed from laughing too hard. Somehow he ended up on his stomach and she on his back, their cheeks together.

He whispered, “Do you think Harry would like the idea of us?”

“Should we call and ask him?”

“Gemma.”

She giggled as his face turned serious. “Of course. You’re his best friend, right?”

“I don’t know about that. He didn’t talk to me until Y/N and I broke up.”

“That’s because she’s Y/N. He didn’t let me come to the treehouse because it was ‘their place’.” She rolled her eyes. “But it was mine first. Dad built it for me.” When she caught him gazing at her, she returned a look just as bemused. “What?”

“You said ‘Dad’. Not Winton.”

“Oh.” She rolled onto her back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Isaac flipped over to lie on his side, his head propped up on his hand. She waited for another question, but he didn’t ask, so she went on, “I still won’t visit him or even talk to him. But I guess there was a time when he was good, and I should give the old him some credits. It’s easier to do that, now that I no longer have to deal with the consequences of him leaving.” She turned to smile at him. “Now that I’ve found someone who really cares about me.”

“Who’s that? Is it me?” He acted shocked and she shoved him away, cackling.

“Come on.” She sat up, grabbed the laptop and beckoned him over. “We still have to finish this terrible movie.”

.

.

.

A week later, Y/N came to Laura’s office after she’d finished two classes in the morning. Laura’s assistant told her Laura had taken a day off because she was sick. “She’s rescheduled the meeting with the publisher this afternoon,” said the assistant. “I was gonna call you but Ms Hilfgard said she’d tell you herself. She’s probably forgotten.”

Weird. Laura never forgot. She was like a machine when it came to business stuff, and Y/N had always wondered where that woman got all that energy. Laura must be very sick. Y/N normally would stay away from other people’s business, but she’d been inseparable from Laura recently, which gave her a sense of responsibility for her agent. She should probably check in on Laura.

“Is she at her flat today?” she asked the assistant, who seemed unsure.

“I think so. Would you like me to call her for you?”

“No, thank you. I’ll do it myself.”

Y/N adjusted her bag on her shoulder, wished the woman a good day and ambled out of the room. She tried calling Laura when she got into the lift, but Laura didn’t answer the phone. A throb in her stomach led her to believe something was wrong.

Everyone got sick once in a while so Laura couldn’t be an exception; she was human after all. But Y/N’s gut feelings were always correct. And if she chose to ignore them, it’d be her fault when something actually happened to Laura, who lived all by herself and had no close friend or family, none that Y/N knew of.

“Laura! It’s me, Y/N!” Y/N banged on the door after she’d rung the doorbell many times and there was no answer. “Laura! Your assistant told me you were sick. I came to check on you.”

Just as she imagined herself kicking down the door like those badass heroines in movies, she heard the sound of it being unlocked, the handle turned, and the door was opened. Her chest caved when Laura appeared, holding the door just wide enough to reveal half of her face. She was in her bathrobe without any makeup on, her skin marked with freckles, her lips dry, her eyes dark and weary, and her hair wasn’t pulled up into a neat bun like it always was. She looked like she’d gone through hell and back.

“Are you all right?” Y/N asked and immediately realised how stupid she’d sounded; of course, Laura wasn’t all right. Look at her.

“I’m very sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have come here.” Laura sounded spacey. The smell of alcohol on her breath was too strong. She held Y/N’s gaze, expecting Y/N to leave, but once she was sure Y/N wasn’t going anywhere, Laura stepped aside and opened the door a bit wider, just enough for Y/N to slip in.

The door was closed. They were standing in the semidarkness; there was still a bit of light coming through the dark blue curtain of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The evident of Laura’s despair was lying on the white carpet in the middle of the room – empty bottles after a wild alcohol-binge. She wasn’t sick. She was drunk.

Laura brushed past a bewildered Y/N and careened toward the sofa. The sofa legs creaked ominously under her weight.

“As you can see, I’m pretty much alive,” she said to the ceiling, an arm placed over her eyes. “You may leave now.”

Y/N wanted to leave. Whatever Laura was dealing with had nothing to do with her. She’d only come to make sure her agent was still alive, and Laura was just drunk for some unknown reason, but that was all Y/N should know. She should leave. Her brain told her to leave, but her guts told her Laura needed help.

She huffed and came to stand at one end of the sofa. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Y/N.”

“You rescheduled a meeting with the publisher without asking me – your author, and then lied about being sick when you’ve been drinking your arse off. So yeah, it has a lot to do with me.”

As Laura didn’t answer, Y/N picked up the woman’s arm and tried to haul her out of the sofa. She resisted the effort, weakly pushing Y/N away.

“Fine. I’m leaving.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest. “Call me when you’ve sobered up.”

“I now see why he’s crazy about you.”

The words froze Y/N to the spot. She slowly turned around and backed away from the front door to return to her previous spot beside Laura. He? Who was he?

Laura’s eyelids fluttered like she was going to fall asleep, but then she continued, “He chose you over me because you’re young and beautiful and ambitious and kind…He chose you over me because...I’m the opposite…”

Y/N’s heart, head, and stomach pulsated at once. “Who...who are you talking about?”

“Blake.”

The name left her in shock. She blinked at Laura, feeling disoriented for a second. She hoped Laura was only messing with her. Laura and Blake? No fucking way.

“He ended it because of you,” Laura went on despite Y/N’s startlement. “We weren’t really together, but he made it clear that we’d never be anything.” She laughed loudly and mirthlessly, her thick dark hair bouncing on her slim shoulders. “You have a boyfriend, and he still chose you over me. I would call him stupid but what would it make me?” Then she glanced up, her glossy eyes filled with wondering and desperation.

Meanwhile, Y/N was stuck in rearranging her thoughts. Everything made sense – Blake had been their connection since the beginning, and Laura had heard so much about Y/N and Harry – but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to believe any of it. She clutched the strap of her handbag and took in the sight of Laura, trying to look for the badass woman hiding underneath.

“I think you should go,” Laura said to her feet and gestured toward the door. “I’ll call you once I’ve sobered up.”

“Do you have anyone else I can call–”

“I don’t need anyone, Y/N. Leave!”

“Okay,” Y/N murmured as she squared her shoulders, gripped the strap of her bag, and marched to the front door.

.

.

.

Thud Thud Thud

“Blake! We need to talk, Blake!”

Blake opened the door and sprang back before Y/N accidentally hit his face with her fist. “Did you sleep with Laura?” she bellowed before he could question, and he blinked as if she was speaking alien language.

“Laura Hilfgard,” her voice dropped, “My fucking agent. For fuck’s sake! Did you sleep with her?”

He still didn’t answer but the look on his face said it all. He couldn’t admit something so horrible.

“Goddamn it, Blake! Fuck!” she roared into her hands, her chest growing hot. When he tried to touch her, she pushed him away and stabbed a finger at his face. “You lied to me!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry–”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Oh, don’t fucking apologise to me. I’m not gonna accept it. Apologise to Laura.”

“We’re over.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, Blake! It’s fucking sick that you slept with her so she would sign me! Fuck you!”

“Y/N!” He caught her wrist and she whipped around to fight him, but his fingers were quick to clasp her other wrist.

“Let me go!”

“Listen to me!” He shook her to get her to stop, and she did, panting and glowering at him. “I didn’t sleep with her so she’d sign you. Yes, I’d...I'd been sleeping with her before. That was how I knew her. I asked her to read your book and she loved it.”

“She only ‘loved’ it because she loved you, Blake!” Y/N yanked her hands back, tears welling up in her eyes. “You broke her and she cancelled the meeting with the publisher. She’s gonna drop me!”

“She won’t. I’ll talk to her–”

“I don’t fucking need your help, Blake. Just…” Y/N stepped back, holding up her hand to stop him from getting any closer. “Just don’t fucking talk to me again.”

“Y/N, please, hey.” He strode forward and got between her and her door, his desperate grey eyes begging her to hear him out. “I swear to you I didn’t do this on purpose. I just wanted to help. You were so desperate and I wanted you to be happy.”

“I was desperate but I wasn’t miserable,” she said through her gritted teeth. “You want me to be happy but what you did was awful, Blake. You made me feel like a talentless piece of shit, that if my boyfriend doesn’t get me a job, then my ex-boyfriend has to sleep with someone for it. God, what is wrong with you?”

“At least I gave your story to Laura and made her read it. Your boyfriend just fucking told John Conall to sign you. He doesn’t even care.”

“Don’t talk about Harry that way. He’s a thousand times better than you.” Then she froze. “How do you even know about Conall?”

“Laura knows him,” Blake said to his feet. “They talked.”

“Fuck this.”

She pulled out her keys and gestured him to get out of the way, but he refused to comply, shaking his head. She had never seen Blake Roman so despondent, and she didn’t like this side of him at all.

“I still love you, Y/N,” he said despite the fact that those were the last words she wanted to hear right now. “I’m sorry I left, but in the last three years, I couldn’t stop thinking about us, and how we could’ve figured out a way to be together instead of giving up. Then I met you here, and...and I–Listen, I’ve been trying to make it up to you–”

“Blake, please…” she breathed, her eyes tight.

“I know you still have feelings for me, Y/N. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spent so much time with me. You rarely mentioned him when we were together. We have so much in common and we fit.”

“You’re wrong.” She stared dagger at him and unclenched her fists, taking a deep breath. “I rarely mentioned him because I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew you still had feelings for me. I guess I was wrong to want to keep you in my life as a friend when you don’t belong there anymore.”

“I do, Y/N. I do,” he fretted while she kept shaking her head.

“You don’t. You just...you just felt like childhood, which I can’t keep dwelling on anymore. Both of us need to grow up.” She inclined her head, arms wrapped around herself. “I’m sorry, Blake. I don’t think we can be friends anymore. Not after this.”

“Y/N.”

She didn’t look at him and rushed down the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t go after her. And he didn’t. She came dashing out of the building, her eyes prickling with tears. She couldn’t believe she’d doubted Harry and trusted Blake. She felt like such a fool. She hated herself.

Stopping on the side of the road, she fished her phone out of her handbag to call Harry. But then her screen flashed on with the notification of ‘11 missed calls from Laura H’. Her chest throbbed. She called Laura back.

Laura didn’t answer.

.

.

.

When Gemma stepped out of the lift, fumbling around in her bag for her room key, she almost didn’t notice the man waiting for her in the hallway.

“Gem.”

His voice froze her to the spot. She shot her head up, her heart rate increasing as Asher walked up to her holding a rose bouquet. He was dressed in a fine ocean-blue suit, his dark hair pushed back, the strong scent of his cologne so unbearable. He looked like he was here for a photoshoot or a red carpet event. When he cracked a smile, she responded with a grimace.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off the flowers. The last time he’d got her flowers had been their first Valentine’s Day together; things had gone downhill after that.

“I came to see you,” he said. “To apologise.”

He held the flowers toward her with both hands, and she pushed them right back to him, shaking her head.

“I don’t need your apology,” she said. “You made it clear that day on the phone that this was over and I’m thankful for it.”

“I said ‘a break’.”

“You don’t get to call a break and come back whenever you feel like it,” Gemma said in annoyance. “That’s not how a relationship works.”

She gently pushed right past him to unlock the door. Right as she opened it, he slipped straight into her room. She stared at him, speechless. “Asher, leave.”

“I want to talk, please.”

Frustrated and annoyed, she slammed the door behind her, stormed toward the bed and flung her bag on it. He stood by the door with that stupid bouquet, waiting for his chance to speak.

“I can offer you a deal,” he blurted as she turned around. “You don’t have to get back with me. We can go separate ways after this.”

“Or we can go separate ways now.” She gestured to the door.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard that. “My father really likes you,” he said. “He thinks you keep me grounded. So I think...if you ask him for the investment, he’ll most likely say yes. I'll pay you. Please help me, Gem.”

“No!” Gemma put her hands on her hips, her mouth quirked in annoyance. “You’ve got some nerves to ask me that. We are not getting back together. Go find someone else dumb enough to help you.”

Asher’s mouth fell open. He must have come here thinking she would burst into tears and run into his arms the moment she saw him and forgive him like she always had. If so, he was destined for disappointment.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Why are you like this all of a sudden?”

“Why do I have common sense all of a sudden?” She cocked her head. “Maybe I’ve finally found someone who appreciates me, and is not only with me because he can use me for his own benefit.”

Asher was shallow but he wasn’t stupid. Realization soon dawned on his face. “Have you been cheating on me?”

Before he’d come here, she’d imagined this moment to be extremely awkward, but now she was full of rage. “You and I are not together anymore, Asher,” she snapped. “But well, I did kiss him once when we were ‘together’.”

“You fucking bitch,” Asher bellowed as he threw himself at her. Everything happened so quickly her brain failed to catch on. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, gripping the edge of the table, her head in pain. She spotted the horror on her ex’s face before he broke into a run out of the room, so she reached for her head and looked at her own fingers.

Blood.

He’d pushed her.

Shocked and dizzy, she held the table for support to stand up and hobbled into the bathroom where she grabbed a hand towel, wetted it and tried to clean the wound on her forehead. That was when she heard the door open and close. She spun around, horrified. It was just Isaac.

“What happened?!” He rushed toward her, held her face between his cold palms.

“Asher came here…” was all she could say while shaking her head, feeling herself going unsteady.

“Did he fucking hit you?” Isaac ground his jaw, his eyes turning dark.

She shuddered at the thought and felt hot tears in the wells of her eyes. “I think he pushed me,” she mumbled.

“Fuck!”

She fisted his shirt, afraid that he might run after Asher, who must have been long gone by now. But Isaac didn’t bother to ask about the arsehole. He inspected the wound on her forehead and encircled his arms around her. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

.

.

.

“Can I see her?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet,” the nurse answered.

“Is she okay?”

“She will be,” the nurse told Y/N while scribbling something on the clipboard. She’d asked Y/N a bunch of questions about Laura, most of which Y/N had answered with “I don’t know”. She didn’t know if Laura was a regular drinker or if she often drank to drunkenness. Y/N only knew what she’d witnessed – Laura blacked out on her bedroom floor with empty bottles scattering all around.

Laura had been taken to the emergency room where they gave her fluids. The doctor had briefed Y/N, saying Laura had got alcohol poisoning from her alcohol binge, and if Y/N hadn’t found her – if she’d locked the door after Y/N had left – then something terrible could have happened tonight. Y/N wasn’t sure if Laura would be okay, but things could have gone worse and she was grateful it hadn’t.

“Is there any family member that we could call?” asked the nurse, who was finally making eye contact with Y/N.

“I-I don’t know. I’m just her client,” Y/N said, rubbing her palms together nervously. “Maybe uhm...maybe I can call her assistant.”

“It’s fine. She’s in a better condition now. We’ll just get information from her when she wakes up.”

Y/N thanked the nurse and sat in one of the chairs in the hallway. She thought of calling Harry but didn’t have any motivation to do it, so she sat with her head against the wall, watching the nurses’ station while she waited for better news.

She didn’t know what time it was. She was already fatigued. She felt herself drifting away when a voice pulled her right back.

“Y/N?”

She looked up. Isaac and Gemma were just as shocked to see her. Gemma didn’t look like herself; she was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood on, covering her forehead. Y/N didn’t want to assume the hoodie was Isaac’s, but something told her it wasn’t Gemma’s.

“What...are you guys doing here?” Y/N slowly rose from her seat, her eyes switching back and forth between Isaac and Gemma. “Together.”

Isaac worked his jaw, unable to get any word out as he looked over at Gemma imploringly, and she heaved a sigh. Y/N was losing patience with the suspense when Gemma pulled back the hood to reveal her bandaged forehead.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Y/N gasped, pushing past Isaac to grab Gemma’s shoulders. “Did you get into an accident?”

“Y-Yeah.” Gemma looked unconfident, her eyes searching for Isaac’s again. Something was wrong, and neither of them wanted to tell Y/N what it was. She would have been mad if she didn’t have her own problems to worry about. What a crazy day it had been.

She was going to ask Isaac why he’d been the one to take Gemma to the hospital, but he went first. “Why are you here?”

“A friend of mine got into trouble,” she said. It was only fair that she got to be ambiguous too.

“Alice?” Gemma looked concerned.

“No.”

Isaac grimaced. “Eddie?”

“No!” Y/N rolled her eyes at their surprised reactions. “You guys really assume I have only two friends in London?”

“You do have only two friends in London,” Isaac said, beaming, “Besides us.”

Y/N assumed he meant him, Niall, and Harry. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but she wasn’t going to give him that.

For the second time, she meant to ask why he’d taken Gemma here, but right as she opened her mouth, a nurse showed up with a clipboard.

“Miss Styles," she called.

“Yes?” Gemma whipped around as the nurse sauntered right past her like she wasn’t there.

Confused and surprised, they all watched the nurse head toward the end of the hallway, where sat a brunette with her headphones on. Her hair was covering her face as she was looking down at her phone. The nurse had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She glanced up, eyes popping out the moment she saw them. Y/N, Isaac, and Gemma looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“Emilia Styles,” repeated the nurse since Emilia wasn’t looking at her. “You can see your mother now.”

Y/N glanced over at Isaac and Gemma, who looked as if they’d seen a ghost. The nurse said something else to Emilia and went into one of the rooms. Emilia told the nurse she’d be right back as she shoved her headphones into her tote bag, got up and made way toward Y/N, Isaac and Gemma.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said with a pretentious smile; it was the same smile she always wore, but it was only until this moment that Y/N realized how pompous it was.

“Drop the act,” Y/N snapped. “Are you gonna fucking tell us why you’re here? Or should we go ask your mum who is still ALIVE?”

Isaac held her back by the arm before she could even consider doing something to Emilia. She didn’t want to get violent; she wasn’t that type of person. Not yet.

“Fine.” The fake smile disappeared as Emilia stood taller despite having been exposed. “My mum’s alive,” she calmly confessed. “She has cancer, and my dad doesn’t work anymore so I have to take care of them.”

“With Harry’s money?” Gemma snarled. Y/N believed if Gemma’s head wasn’t hurt, she would have already torn Emilia to pieces.

“I didn’t take anything Harry didn’t want to give.” Emilia crossed her arms and lifted her chin, which made Y/N more shocked than angry; she didn’t know it was possible to be this shameless.

“So everything was fake?” Y/N asked. “You made up a nice little story calling your mum crazy for burning down the house and–”

“It was my dad,” Emilia said with her eyes closed as she sucked in an unsteady breath and opened her eyes at the long exhalation. “He was drunk and he set the house on fire. That was after my mum had been diagnosed with cancer. He was very upset because we didn’t have enough money for the treatment. I had to drop out and use my college money for it.” Then she swallowed and looked over at Isaac, who’d been speechless the whole time. “I’m sorry, Isaac. But when we met I recognised you right away. I knew you were Harry’s friend, and I saw you as an opportunity. We had to lie because Harry didn’t trust us at first; he thought Dad was a terrible man–”

“No decent man would lie to his own son to steal his money!”

“We weren’t stealing!” Emilia half-shouted at Gemma then frantically looked around. A few nurses stared at them with concern but no one attempted to interfere. Emilia turned back to Gemma and lowered her voice, “We were gonna tell him everything.”

“When?” Y/N scoffed. “When your mum gets better? Or when you finally become a successful actress living off Harry’s fame?”

“I started with a lie and I had to go through it.” Emilia huffed, her forehead creased. “Things have got so much better since Harry came into our lives. He paid off our bank debt, for Dad’s medicines, for our food. We never asked him for more money. We simply sold the expensive stuff he bought for us as gifts to pay the hospital bills for Mum. I still have to go to work, but now I can also go to auditions. And Harry doesn’t lose anything. He loves Dad, and he’s rich anyway.”

“Harry worked for everything he owns now,” Gemma hissed. “Your dad doesn’t get to live on the money of the son he left and tried to steal from.”

Emilia’s lips quirked in a scornful manner. “You’re just bitter because Dad doesn’t love you.”

Y/N’s gaze jumped to Gemma, whose face was white with shock. She didn’t expect that. None of them expected that. It was so hurtful. Because it was the truth...

“It was my plan. Dad just went along with it,” Emilia went on despite Gemma’s fists shaking as she refrained herself from tackling Emilia to the floor. Emilia knew Y/N and Gemma couldn’t do anything to her in a hospital hallway, and Isaac would never lay hands on a woman. She considered Gemma’s face. “He just wanted my mum to get better. We knew Harry wouldn’t help us if he had to go behind yours and your mum’s back, so I had to reach out to you first. I had to gain your approval.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Gemma sneered and waved her hand when Emilia gazed at her alarmedly. “Do go on. When will we get to the part where you’re forgivable?”

“Say anything you want, but I did it for a reason,” Emilia murmured, her eyes piercing at Gemma. “What are your reasons for cheating on your boyfriend and sleeping with your brother’s best friend?”

Gemma growled and launched herself at Emilia, who jumped right back as Isaac dragged Gemma away. A few nurses had gathered to watch them, unsure if it was necessary to call security. The four of them weren’t really fighting or being loud, but Y/N wasn’t sure how long they could maintain peace.

“Did I say something wrong?” Emilia looked at Isaac, whose eyes fastened on Y/N’s face at once.

“You two?” Y/N stared at him and Gemma in disbelief.

“Asher and I are over, Y/N,” Gemma said, reaching for Y/N’s hand. Y/N let her hold it, only because Y/N was too shocked to move.

“Does Harry know?” she asked quietly. Gemma and Isaac both shook their heads.

“Guess I’m not the only one who lied to Harry after all.”

Isaac shot Emilia a glare even though his features were incredibly calm. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“This isn’t a game of Truth or Dare,” she told him. “I’m not gonna blackmail you into doing something for me in return for my silence. I’m not a good person but I’m not that awful. I just wanted to help my mum. I don’t care what it takes.” Her voice suddenly dropped as she took a step further from them. “And I really liked you, Isaac. I’m sorry.”

Y/N could tell Isaac had a lot he wanted to say to Emilia, but he kept his lips tight because she wasn’t worth it. From the way Emilia was looking at him, she must regret lying to him the most. What about Harry? Harry didn’t deserve this. He’d been nothing but kind to her and Winton.

“Miss Y/L/N?” a nurse interjected. She was the one who’d spoken to Y/N about Laura. “Your friend is awake. Would you like to see her?” she told Y/N, who sighed in relief. At least this night didn’t go all the way down a pit of despair.

“I have to go,” she told Isaac and Gemma.

Isaac caught Y/N’s elbow before she could follow the nurse. “You’re not gonna tell Harry, are you?”

“I’m not gonna do the hard work for you three,” she said, giving all of them – even Emilia – a disappointed look. “You’re all going to tell him tomorrow. Not tonight. I don’t want his night to be ruined as well.” Then she fixed her eyes on Emilia, whose face was blank; either she hid her emotions really well, or she didn’t feel like any normal person would. Y/N stabbed a finger at Emilia, her voice rough, “You and your family better stay the fuck away from my boyfriend, or you’re gonna have to deal with his lawyer, and it won’t be pretty.”

The other nurses looked scared when Y/N caught them watching. She couldn’t even work up a smile as she mouthed the word “sorry” and marched right past them.

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 16: No Not Like That

Aw, been a while since I wrote one of these! Anyway: we run into some dickheads and try to solve things the not-murder way for once. 

On the road outside Bad Herzfeld, the trolls slowly begin to peel off and go their separate ways. Dr. Kjeller and his new bodyguard Kjell are the last to leave the main road, stopping to say goodbye to the small contingent of humanoids.

“Welp, dis trolls’ moot has certainly been an experience,” Dr. Kjeller sagely intones. “I would not say a success. The two of us are going to tour around and tell all the trolls we can find to stay away. I believe a trolls’ moot is not uncalled for, but we must look for a different place. Ideally one not full of weird fungus people. And, please, if there is anything I can do to help you….well, I guess you’d have to find me first.” He tips his travelin’ hat and departs. Gral tips his mask in return. He’s getting the hang of these Valdian customs!

It seems like the Orcish outriders have already left to report back to Duke Shieldeater, so it’s just us, the Fairgolds, and the beleaguered innkeeper and his daughter. What do we do with the civilians? I mean, we’re headed to Mornheim, and even if we’re gonna fix the water it seems kinda rude to drop someone off in Zombie Town. Flynn offers to introduce Aaron to his innkeeper uncle back in Holzog, to see if he can get a job there.

Flynn and Fiona are gonna stick with us to Mornheim. “Look, you had all the fun up there in Bad Herzfeld; I’m not gonna let the four of you get all the glory. You’re gonna do a big ritual and save the whole town? I gotta see this.”

We spend a couple uneventful days hiking back to Three Oaks Junction, where we’ll split up with Aaron and Rebecca. The DM tries to waylay us with a destroyed bridge over a fast-moving river, but we have a Ring of Jumping and a magical alligator. We’re fine. We roll some bad perception checks on watch and our rations get stolen by Curse Raccoons.

ANYWAY. As we get back onto the major roads, Gral is the first to notice something odd: there’s no carts coming from the direction of Three Oaks. Sure, it’s late evening, but last time we were here there was still a heavy buzz of activity through the busy trade stop. We approach extra-cautiously, making sure the civilians are in the protected center of the group.

The town comes into view, and it’s immediately obvious something has changed. A hasty palisade wall has been constructed around the town, and a banner has been hung over the gate, white with a red insignia of a bloody chain.

Shoshana groans. “AAUUUUGH, are you fuckin’ kidding me?!”

“Um, did the town always look like that?” Rebecca asks hesitantly.

Valeria shakes her head. “Not last week, it didn’t!”

Gral pulls the duo aside and gives them the Cliffs Notes: “We’re about to run into the Penitents. Talk about Rack as much as you can and hide behind Valeria. I hate dealing with these folks, but it looks like they put this place on lockdown, and we gotta make sure y’all are safe.”

Outside the gate, there’s a uniformed Penitent Knight keeping watch over a group of citizens who are digging graves. The gate itself seems to be manned by standard town militiamen, being supervised by another Penitent. Valeria casts a quick eye over the scene with Detect Magic, but finds nothing amiss. As she approaches (we’re wisely letting the paladin lead), a guardsman shouts “Halt!”

She stops at a polite distance. “Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service,” she announces formally. “What’s going on here?”

“By order of the town council, all who seek admittance to the town must submit to examination for heretical artifacts or influences,” the guardsman recites, scriptedly. The Penitent behind him nods in approval.

She meets his eye with an intimidating draconic stare. “We have artifacts we need to bring to the Cursebreaker Knights. Perhaps we can check them at the door and pick them up later?”

“Uhhh,” the guy says, his script clearly not having prepared him for that. “…maybe you should talk to the Inquisitor. He’s gonna want to speak to you about these ‘artifacts.’”

He has us wait a minute, and we take a quick mental inventory. We’ve got an evil skeleton tapestry, spooky lutestrings, the Eyegis, and one (1) entire Shoshana.

A group of six Penitents arrive and escort us stiffly into the town. The place is crowded as all get out; it looks like a lot of travelers have been stuck here way longer than they anticipated. There’s only two properly empty spaces: one’s some sort of enormous construction site, and the other is the area where the circus tent was; it seems nobody’s been brave enough to move into the spot or even clean up the ashy, crumbling remains.

There’s a rather unusual cart sitting among the crowded caravan parking, immediately familiar from the two reptilian beasts of burden hitched next to it. There’s a bit of a staredown happening; two Penitents are remaining remarkably steadfast in the face of two enormous, glowering tattooed figures. We can’t pop over to say hi; our escort is hustling us along and we’re not sure that knowing us would do Lucinius any favors.

Valeria’s about vibrating out of her skin, indignant at all these unfairly-detained innocents, and looks about a second away from drawing her sword and opening up a can o’ Righteousness. But no time for that; we’re being ushered inside the sheriff’s office.

The small-town hoosegow is cramped; there’s been makeshift cages built all along one wall, seemingly as some kind of holding cells, all of them full. Shoshana appraises the prisoners out of the corner of her eye. They all seem to have slight Curse mutations, but so vaguely that it could just be garden-variety weirdness. Sure, that guy could be a werewolf, but he might just be a real hairy dude. That lady looks sallow and corpselike, but not more so than any garden-variety resident of Mornheim.

Shoshana, her clawed hands shoved deep in her pockets, is strung tense as a lutestring. Valeria’s still managing to feign chilly politeness, but both of them are half a breath away from fight or flight.

Gral’s not looking at the prisoners. He’s too busy looking at the guard. There’s two burly Penitents at the door, which is unsurprising, but Gral could swear he’s seen the one on the left before.

He’s pretty sure we killed that guy back at the roadhouse.

The guard doesn’t seem to recognize us at all, but he’s pretty badly scarred, exactly in the way someone might be if they took a hit from a drow soldier’s greatsword.

We’re pulled out of our wary observations by a familiar, unwelcome voice. “Ah. Kyr Argent, wasn’t it?”

“It is,” Valeria allows frostily, as the Inquisitor glides into the room.

“It is good to see you again – in a manner of speaking,” he says, chuckling at his own joke as he gestures to his blindfolded eyes. “Yes, from the descriptions of the heroes who defeated the heretical circus, I suspected I might have the pleasure of working with you once again. What brings you to Three Oaks Junction?”

“Oh, we’re just passing through. Y��know, like travelers do,” she answers, her polite smile showing just a little too much fang.

“Yes, of course. As you can see, this town has become very useful in our war against the Curse.”

“Is it, now.”

“After the incident with the circus, the town council was afraid. Many of them had attended the performance, after all. They were worried that there might be some…aftereffects. Fortunately, my people were nearby, and they summoned me immediately to examine the town for signs of the Curse’s corruption. As we were here, it became clear what an asset this town is – just as the heretics used it to corrupt many at once, we can use it to root out those heretics who hide among us.

“On our first day here, we found one who bore the mark of the curse. I examined him myself. Foul lycanthropy. He was, of course, executed. Now, none pass through this place without our inspection, and we have found many others. You may have seen some of them outside, awaiting a more thorough examination. My work has kept me too busy to give each case the attention it truly deserves.

“The town council has been very accommodating. I have written to my fellows, and we are working on converting and expanding their humble chapel into a true bastion of Rack’s justice, where the divine light of the gods may lay bare the evil that hides among us, that walks the roads of this land spreading its poison.”

Gral mutters, aside, “Don’t think anyone’s walkin’ these roads now…”

The Inquisitor claps his hands briskly. “Now. I understand you are in possession of some artifacts, objects that you are transporting on behalf of the Cursebreaker Knights. I fear for our brothers amongst the Cursebreakers; their mission is noble but they meddle with powers they do not understand. There are things in this wood it is better not to trifle with. Bring the items to me, and I will inspect them. Those I deem acceptable may remain in your protection, but anything too dangerous must be destroyed. Should the Cursebreakers fall to corruption, we would lose some of our greatest assets in this war. Help me protect the Cursebreakers, Kyr Argent. Show me what you are transporting for them.”

Valeria nearly decks him then and there, but a quiet brush of shoulders reminds her of the trembling sorceress behind her. Not here, not now, not when we’re surrounded. If they get an excuse to get aggressive, Shoshana’s sunk.

We busy ourselves with pulling out Weird Yet Harmless artifacts. What kind of random space trinkets did we find, again? Clem shows them the Eldritch Cookbook, and we take a gamble by letting them look at the Pale King’s tapestry, which is a bit large and hard to hide.

“Very well. I will examine these,” the Inquisitor says smoothly, his tone giving no insight into whether he knows we have far more blasphemous things to hide. “Gunter! Find them lodging within the town. Once I have examined these items for corruption, I must confirm that none of you have been corrupted by their presence.”

Valeria smiles tightly. “I’m certain they are corrupted, but not corrupting.”

“With all due respect, Kyr, I have made a study of corruption. Now, because of your…esteemed position,” he says, gesturing toward her rose-emblazoned armor, “you are no doubt on a mission of some considerable importance. I will endeavor to expedite your case as much as I can.”

“Oh, there’s no need to give us special treatment. All the travelers here need to get through,” she responds pointedly.

The Inquisitor’s serene, condescending expression does not change. “You may go,” he dismisses. “I am very busy. As I’m sure you know, the work of good in times of evil is ceaseless.”

Valeria bows to the exact millimeter that politeness requires, and no further. He’s blind, and doesn’t notice.

As we’re ushered back out, Shoshana tries to catch the eye of one of the caged prisoners. They mostly just look scared, not evil, and there’s no sign they recognize she’s also corrupted.

Clem, meanwhile, takes the opportunity to scrutinize the weirdly familiar guy at the door. He looks perfectly healthy, except for all the scars. She elbows Valeria, who confirms with her Divine Sense that this is just a normal dude, not an undead. He’s either one hundred percent living, or whatever nonsense that brought him back from murder is specifically cloaked in a way that would fool a paladin’s senses.

Our escort shows us to a place to set up camp. There are several inns in town, but all of them are fairly occupied at moment. We’re pretty sure that a Knight of the Rose, hero who slew the dread circus, could pre-empt a less fancy guest, but we’re all chill with camping as long as we get to hit up a food truck or something.

We meet back up with our friends. The Fairgolds, who are pretty familiar with Three Oaks, are pretty shaken by the drastic changes. Aaron and Rebecca, meanwhile, are shocked. “Is this what the rest of the woods is like?!” Aaron asks. “I knew things were bad out here, but I assumed once we got out of Bad Herzfeld…”

“Different places have different issues,” Gral explains kindly. “Some are the kind you’re already familiar with. And apparently some places are afflicted with Penitent Knights.”

“Even before that, there was an undead curse which afflicted this place-“

“-Which we DEALT WITH just fine-“ Valeria interjects grumpily.

“-and Holzog’s safe now, but it had its own weird issues we had to deal with too. The Curse is everywhere; you can’t really get around it without clear-cutting the forest,” Shoshana admits.

We get the lay of the land. Commerce has slowed, but not stopped. The Penitents are searching everyone going through here. If they find nothing, they let you go. Most of the crowd is just people waiting for their turn to get checked. We see a few times, though - if something about you pings them as weird, they take you away.

Basically, we are in line at the TSA.

Guess we’ll take a walk.

We skirt warily around a Penitent street preacher who’s shouting something about justice, and casting out evil, and how Rack appreciates your sacrifice in these trying times.

“Sacrifice is a WILLING thing,” grumbles Valeria.

We walk around and do some casual recon. Much of the town is still a perpetual campsite/bazaar, but near the more permanent municipal buildings, several work crews are busy with construction, which the locals tell us is supposed to be some kind of temple. Quite a few rough tents with Penitent insignias are pitched by that area. The town militia is out in force, and it’s much bigger than when we passed through last week. Maybe half of the people running around on patrol are actually trained fighters; most of the new recruits barely even look like weekend warriors. Every patrol, without exception, is being supervised by at least one Penitent.

People are scared, mostly. Nobody around seems happy with the Penitents, but a lot of the people around have reluctantly agreed that Something Had To Be Done about threats like the circus, and there weren’t any other available options. No one’s enthusiastic they’re there, but neither are they vocally critical. Then again, we worry, maybe anyone who’s been speaking out or causing trouble has, uh, disappeared.

We make our way back to our own wagon. If we’re gonna go Get In Trouble, like adventurers do, it’s probably time to part ways with our civilian friends. We pool 40 gold for Aaron and Rebecca (Clem contributing nothing because giving money is WAY too personal; Shoshana giving extra because she’s projecting really hard onto them) and Aaron’s eyes go wide. Oh, right, most people don’t make adventurer amounts of cash? It’ll be enough to get them safely set up in Holzog, with money to spare. They leave to set up their own travel plans, stuttering awkward thanks.

Flynn, meanwhile, grins. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily. You guys are terrible liars, I know you’re plotting something.”

We admit we don’t actually have a plan, but Valeria is adamant that This Nonsense Cannot Stand.

Let’s go recruit some allies, maybe? Gral wanders within Message range of Lucinius’ wagon, which is very clearly cordoned off and under guard. Bjorn and Ingborg are still there, but there’s no sign of the dragonborn.

“Heyy it’s us, what’s going on? Over.”

“Hello. We cannot leave. The Professor was taken. They wished to search the cart. He explained what he has and what he has found, that he is carrying important research. He would not allow them to confiscate his research, and he went to speak to the one in charge. That was three days ago; we have not seen him since. It is our duty to protect the man, but we have not seen a way to fulfil that duty without getting ourselves killed.”

We promise to keep them posted, and ask them to sit tight so when we make our move, it’ll be coordinated.

Next, Gral and Shoshana go down to the local pub to see if we can find anyone that’s particularly malcontented with the Penitents. We assume religious zealots are not much for hanging around bars. They don’t seem to be much into worldly pleasures, coughzombiecough.

Nobody’s talking too much shit until they get a couple of drinks in them but we do find some people griping, mostly merchants passing through. Pierre the Demish furrier, who we met back at the Holzog roadhouse, has turned up again; apparently the Penitents seized a good deal of his stock. And he’s been reduced to drinking BEER. He has OPINIONS about that. (It does not stop him drinking lots of it; he has to drown his sorrows at being denied worthy alcohol.)

Gral tries to butter him up a bit by letting him ramble about Demish wine. “When you drink a bottle of Demish wine, you taste centuries of tradition in that vineyard! You taste the earth itself, the hands of the farmers. It is sweet and it stings and it is good. What is this? Barley? Hops? HOPS? Hop is a verb, hop is not an object. Hop is for bunnies. The bunnies may eat the hops, and then I will cook the bunnies,” he mumbles into his unsatisfactory beer.

Gral fumbles for sommelier expertise. “I come from a smaller river village; wine tastes different farm to farm. It’s not just about the plants, but the social experience.”

“It is the same for us, yes? A region’s wine is its SPIRIT. You go to the border of the goblin swamps, and the wine there tastes like fire and blood, like the steel of the chevaliers that defend it.”  Go to Petit le Fere, it tastes like long summer nights. Go to Marsène, the wine tastes like – have you ever been in love, Monsieur Orc?”

“Uh, n-no?”

It tastes like the first time you and your lover locked eyes and laughed together. That was my favorite wine. This? This tastes like mud with pretensions of alcohol.”

“It’s not the steel of the chevaliers, but it’s the taste of hardworking people. And if the penitents have their way, there won’t be a town here anymore.”

Gral butters the guy up enough to find out a few basic details: there’s about two dozen proper knights, but they’ve got local militia and volunteers to swell their numbers. A lot of people are very keen to get on good terms with the new bosses, whether it’s because they’re afraid of the Penitents or afraid of the things out in the woods that the Penitents have promised to fight.

“I was here to get a blood-red deer pelt with wolf’s teeth,” the trader complains. “I know a chevalier who would pay dearly to have it worked into his armor. And now it has been taken away!  For my ‘protection,’ apparently. I had to surrender the rest of my stock to avoid being thrown in those cages.”

Everybody in the tavern seems to be on good behavior – sure, there’s folks displeased with the Penitents, but nobody’s gonna do anything about it; if you look like you might be up to something, you’re gonna get dragged off. And Pierre’s been keeping a low profile ever since he saw that blue dragonborn get dragged down into the basement of the sheriff’s office.

Shoshana, meanwhile, slides over to a tough-looking lady at the end of the bar in militia-style leather armor. “Hey, you look like you’d know the system here. We just got in to town; how long before they search our cart and let us go?”

“A couple days; we got a huge backlog,” the woman, who’s introduced herself as Vanessa, tells her. “Depends on how much they suspect you. Some people, they like to leave ‘em here for a while, to watch ‘em for anything suspicious.”

“You say that like you’re not involved? You’re dressed like you’re with the militia.”

“Technically I am. Second-in-command, or I was, before all this. Not sure who is now. Hell, I was the one making noise at Sheriff Wilbur about getting more muscle after that circus thing. If you folks hadn’t shown up, I dunno what would have happened.”

“So you all get bossed around by the Penitents now?”

“Look, half the kids in the militia right now barely know which end of a spear is up. The Penitents agreed to supplement what we had.”

“…yyyyyeah, it kinda feels like they’re calling the shots, though?”

She sighs. “Yeah. Look, I had the idea that we needed to beef up, bring in experienced vets. I was hoping to get mercs or something, and then they showed up and filled the role. They made some kinda deal with the town council, y’know, they’d provide extra security in exchange for being given jurisdiction over anybody found to be corrupt. Sounded fine to us at the time. See, we didn’t make the connection that if they were with the militia, they’d be the ones making the call who all’s corrupt or not.”

“How many people have been deemed, uh, ‘corrupt’?” Shoshana asks.

“More than I’d like, but not enough to get everyone all up in arms. Everybody’s pretty sure that most people will be fine. Hell, most people probably will be. When someone goes to trial, they take ‘em to the sheriff’s office. That Inquisitor guy looks at ya, says a few magic words, and most of ‘em he lets go. A few get taken to the cages for a further exam. I dunno what that means – don’t know anybody who’s been let go after that. A couple of times he just made a motion and bam, those knights beat the poor bastard to death on the spot and burned all their belongings.”

Vanessa doesn’t look too thrilled about that, so Shoshana decides it’s time to confide a little. “Even with the entire town vouching for me that I helped with the Circus, I’m worried I’m a target.”

“Well, I don’t mean to say anything, but I saw y’all leaving the sheriff’s office. You’re gonna get called in; you’re exactly the type. Even before all those stories about burning down circus tent with your magic powers.” She stares into her beer. “They’ve gotta be crazy. There’s plenty of crazy in the forest for them to deal with, why the hell are they in my town?!”

The problem is, the Town Council, which is what passes for a governing body in Three Oaks, have signed off on the whole deal. “The council’s just three people – the sheriff, Burgermeister Menner, and Remick – he’s the guy who keeps the shrine up and running. They all agreed to have the Penitents come in, but we haven’t seen much of any of them except the Sheriff since.”

Shoshana files that info away for later. “You said the sheriff’s still out and about?”

“He’s – look. Wilbur’s never been the most enthusiastic about bein’ sheriff. We served together, way back, in the house guard of the von Kempt family. Even back then he got the job because he’d been a sergeant. The guy was always happiest taking orders, rather than giving them. And hell, most of the sheriff job was just keeping things running today same as yesterday. But he got pretty spooked by the circus thing. That kinda shit’s scarier than your ordinary pack of wolves or bandits. I tried to get him to do something, but he seems comfortable with penitents calling the shots. He trusts they’re the experts and know what’s best here.”

The Burgermeister’s been pretty busy with this whole thing, apparently, and Remick hasn’t really left his little shrine. The Penitents don’t use that one – they’re more into big prayer ceremonies and dramatically flogging themselves in the street, and they’re starting construction on their own grand temple. Something about “showing faith by constructing a worthy house of worship,” and all that.

Vanessa’s grumbling about the heavy restrictions on the gates into town and the perimeter patrols, so Shoshana strategizes. “Have you had problems with people hopping the fence?”

“I mean, normally, no? Town regulations say go through the gates, but we’ve always had teenagers hopping the wall, or people with business outside who don’t feel like walking all the way to gate – never a real problem, until this whole nonsense. I’m not on patrol anymore, but as far as I can tell people are too scared to try in case they get caught. Probably a good way to get declared a potential heretic.”

Apparently the wall isn’t super well maintained; there’s plenty of places a few charming scamps could get in or out if they’re willing to scramble a little. It’s a trade stop, not a fortress.

We don’t get too much more info around town, and decide to investigate the town council in the morning. We take watch overnight, but nothing happens.

In the morning, we split up to cover more ground; Clem and Gral head to the Burgermeister’s, while Valeria and Shoshana try to hit up the local chief cleric.

Clem and Gral arrive at the biggest house in town. There’s a Penitent standing guard outside the door. They skulk around nonchalantly to the back to properly recon. There’s no Penitents watching the back, so Gral slinks up to a window to peer inside. It’s pretty normal; there’s a woman baking bread. Clem points out that we’ll definitely look like the bad guys if we break into an occupied home, so…the polite approach it is.

“The Burgermeister is not feeling well and cannot see visitors,” the knight at the gate intones.

“We’re here on urgent business,” Gral improvises. “We are the adventurers who defeated the circus; we wish to talk to him about the restoration efforts.” He rolls a properly bardic persuasion check, but it’s still like talking to a brick wall.

However, the door opens behind the stoic guard. “Who is it?” An elegant middle-aged woman peers out at us. “Wait, don’t I recognize you?”

“Yes, we assisted in deposing the circus!” Gral replies warmly. “Gral Omokk’du; I serve Duke Shieldeater.”

“Clementine Haxan,” Clem offers laconically.

“Ah, yes. Please do come in. You left town so quickly, my husband and I weren’t able to properly thank you!”

“We had urgent business elsewhere,” Gral admits, the picture of good manners. “I suppose that’s how life is.”

They make pleasantries with the woman, Meredith, who falls easily into the role of gracious host.

“We had concerns to bring up with the Burgermeister, but what’s this I hear about him being unwell?”

“Yes, he’s been bedridden the last week. A bit of the flu; he’s getting to that age. Mostly it’s just the fatigue, really.”

Clem tuts. “I’m a bit of a medic myself. The flu can be very serious when someone is in advanced years. I could potentially give a clearer diagnosis, maybe alleviate some of his pain?”

Meredith visibly brightens. “I was thinking about sending for a doctor anyway; please come on up, I’ll see if he’s ready to take visitors.”

The Burgermeister has CORONAVIRUS and we’re in QUARANTINE.

She leads them upstairs. “Dear? Aldrich? Remember those people who helped with the circus? One’s a doctor!” She listens for a moment. “You’re tired? You’ve been tired for a week. No, that’s not normal. It’s normal to get a doctor!” She turns back to the two visitors. “He’s being silly, come on up.”

“I don’t need a doctor, just rest!” we hear a harrumphing voice complain.

He is lying in bed in his pajamas. Ah, this is the burger kingdom! No, it’s my burger meistdom

“Hello sir, I’m Clementine Haxan. This is my nurse, Gral Omokk’du.”

“An orcish nurse?” the Burgermeister

“I’m not as experienced as Miss Haxan, but I served as a medic during the Ascension War,” Gral seamlessly bullshits.

“Look I’ve just picked up a bit of a bug and I need rest;” he grumps. “It’ll go away after a bit and I’ll resume my duties.”

“That may very well be true, but gods forbid it’s serious,” Clem says in her best Bedside Manner Voice. “It’ll be good to have it looked it.”

“Ugh, poke and prod me, do what you have to,” he reluctantly concedes.

Clem makes a medicine check with Dr. Wendell’s assistance. The man’s not entirely healthy - his cholesterol is a bit high maybe - but he’s hardly an invalid. He genuinely seems to have some kind of cold or flu, but it’s very mild at this point. There’s no way he should still be bedbound. Maybe it’s just Clem’s standards as an army doctor, but if a soldier came up to her with these symptoms asking to be let off duty the prescription would be “stop wasting my time and go dig latrines.”

Gral insights the guy. He’s not lying; he honestly believes he needs rest. But the way he keeps repeating the word “rest” feels a bit weird. The vibe isn’t “this person feels sick and fatigued,” it’s “this person has an insistent conviction that He Needs Rest.”

“Rest” isn’t a Prisoner buzzword, but Gral’s seen bards cast Suggestion before, and that seems to line up a little too well. Unfortunately, he can’t just Dispel Magic the darn thing; it’s too artful and subtle for that.

Gral decides to fish for a bit more info. “Before we leave you to your rest, how long have you had this flu?”

“About a week? The Inquisitor comes by every morning to update me on the town’s situation. Though I must rest and cannot attend to my duties, a town’s Burgermeister still must keep up with the times!”

“When did you first come into contact with him alone?”

“Oh, I insisted on a meeting when he first came into town a week ago.”

Interesting. The Burgermeister falls ill just in time so that the only information he gets about the town comes from the Inquisitor himself.

Wife doesn’t go out much, armed guard outside

Did he update you on the cage and the executions?

Have been capturing some neer do wells that seek to do harm to town, held for further questioning, some eliminated to protect town like common bandits or beasts.

Saw people in cages! How would you describe them, Clem.

Clem: didn’t strike me as especially dangerous folk

“Well, neither did that ringleader! He only seemed as eccentric as any other traveling performer!”

“Sure,” Gral argues, “but that’s when he had time to prepare his lies and his magic. These scared people in cages wouldn’t be able to hide if they tried. Honestly, the worst I saw was an excessive amount of body hair.”

“Fine, fine, I will inspect these prisoners personally as soon as I feel better, which should be any day now!”

“With all due respect, you fell ill right after this Inquisitor started talking to you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Miss Haxan says you’re fine-“

“No I’m not! I need rest!” the Burgermeister interjects heatedly.

“We saved the town, and we’ve had trouble with Penitents before. I believe he has a spell on you. Please, let me try to remove it.”

“I’ve no time for your insane ravings, orc. The Inquisitor is a man of faith! Now leave me to my rest. Dr. Haxan, I appreciate your diagnosis, but I tire easily these days. Have my wife show you out.”

Gral knows the effect of Suggestion is only about 8 hours, but it’s subtle mental manipulation; it lasts. If the Inquisitor is coming by every morning, that’s the perfect opportunity to refresh the charm.

The two of them head out, Clem politely prescribing a short calisthenic routine for the man and, oh, he’s on the mend but just in caaaase he’s contagious the Inquisitor probably shouldn’t visit for a few days?

His wife agrees that sounds reasonable, but it probably won’t stop the guy. They say their gracious goodbyes.

Meanwhile, Shoshana and Valeria are headin’ to church. It’s a tiny thing; there are naves for the three gods we expect, but it doesn’t have the traditional empty throne of Oberok and we’d be surprised if it had a proper hidden shrine for the trickster god Guile. There’s a few people around, and luckily no Penitents posted outside.

Valeria, of course, stops at the Rack shrine for a short prayer, still getting used to how odd it is to see him depicted as human instead of dragonborn. We notice a few little notes – the Lethe shrine’s sponsored by the local blacksmith. You too can have a sword or hammer just like these, in our showroom down the lane!

A few folks are doing their daily prayers and making offerings. They’re all locals and travelers; there’s not a single Penitent in sight, which is pretty odd. There’s no services right now, so we head over to the old man who’s cleaning up candle drippings under one of the offerings. Valeria introduces herself, at your service as per usual.

“Ah, Kyr Argent! I remember you, from that blond man’s story about the circus! Keeper Remick, at your service. How may I aid you?”

Valeria asks him how, as a keeper of the faith, he feels about the Penitents.

“Well, in these times, faith is very important. And they certainly have plenty of that. And that’s a good thing, isn’t it? As a paladin, I’m sure you agree.”

“Faith is one thing, but I can’t say I’m pleased with what they’ve misguidedly done here,” Valeria sniffs.

“As I see it, they’re keeping the town safe. The Inquisitor explained it to me. It’s the will of the gods! Desperate times call for desperate measures, and, well, times are pretty desperate when you can’t even trust a circus! With your mind, that is. With your wallet, Guile walks with them, doesn’t he? Anyhow. These Penitent fellows, they seem extreme, but is there any other option?”

“There must be,” Valeria declares. “They’re detaining people at a crossroads, that’s the work of oppression.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far – see, the Inquisitor explained it to me. He is an experienced scholar of the faith, with a keen – not eye, I guess. A keen sense for the corruption that lurks in the hearts of men. I am, to be honest, just a glorified janitor!”

“I’m certain you’re more than that,” Valeria objects.

“Oh, there’s no need for that. It’s a role I’ve found fulfilling, keeping this place and these people.”

“Well, it seems like they’re brushing past this place in search of something new.”

“Yes, heh. I believe the intent is to make this town a bastion of faith. I’m sure that my little spot here will still remain in use, but more glorification to the gods is good, right?”

We botch an insight check and don’t get a real good sense of him. There isn’t the sense that he’s lying about anything – our impression is he believes it’s not his place to stand in the Penitents’ way; they must know better than him. He’s an old man who’s done a noble job, but he doesn’t think he’s cut out for determining who is or isn’t a danger to the town.

We try another tack: “I understand you’re on the town council?”

“I am. Don’t know why, really. We used to have a proper cleric, decades ago. When he died, I was closest thing to a replacement we had! As the keeper of town’s faith, I hold one of the three seats. Burgermeister Menner does most of running the town, but for the big things he calls in myself and the sheriff and we all take a vote.”

“Then you must have been a big part of bringing the Penitents in?”

“Well, Sheriff Wilbur’s the one who brought their offer to us. I did vote in favor, yes. The Inquisitor showed up personally with his people and described the whole arrangement he had in mind. The Penitents would reinforce and train our militia, and those guilty of corruption would be remanded into their custody for justice. It all seemed very reasonable; sheriff Wilbur does his best but clearly he and his deputies aren’t enough on their own, not against this sort of curse. Burgermeister Menner fell ill shortly afterwards, and I’ve been very busy here doing what I can to keep up folks’ faith.”

Shoshana butts in. “Have you actually been out to see the Penitents work?”

“Yes, once. It disturbed me, but I understand it couldn’t be avoided. The Inquisitor suggested it might be best to avoid seeing such things that upset me so.”

“But if it upsets you – wouldn’t you be the one with authority to change things?!” Valeria demands, failing a persuasion check.

“Oh, voting on anything like that has to wait until the Burgermeister feels better.”

“Can’t council members do anything on their own?”

“Like I said, we’d have to convene to vote…”

“Sure, for the big things,” Shoshana argues, “But the sheriff and Burgermeister have their own duties, don’t you have your own authority as well?”

“I - I suppose I could call clerics from other towns to take a look?”

Valeria puts a gauntleted hand on his shoulder and sparkles at him with all her charismatic piety. “You’re not just the keeper of the shrine, you’re the keeper of this town’s faith. I know you can make a difference.”

The dice land in her favor. “Yes!” the old man declares. “I will-I will do something. What is it I should do? I’m new to this. I’ve held this seat for 20 years but, well, doing something is new. Mostly council meetings are that the Burgermeister says I’d like to increase the tolls, I say the gods probably won’t argue, the sheriff says it won’t cause a riot, and then he does it. I am not suited for a crisis.”

“Well, what kinds of things do you normally do?”

“Er, sometimes I have to sit in on a trial and make sure the prisoner has an advocate?”

OH YOU’RE A PRISONER ADVOCATE, HUH. WELL BOY DO WE HAVE SOME PRISONERS FOR YOU.

“Why, don’t the Penitents do that as clerics of Rack?”

We politely do not laugh in his face. No, no they do not.

“Oh, then I must go at once!”

We’re gonna reconvene with the rest of the party, and then will see the gods’ justice done! After lunch!

The four of us, plus the Fairgolds, meet up. Flynn reports that there have been no changes; the Penitents let all carts through but seized some items, mostly books. We swap info about the Burgermeister and Keeper Remick. The town leadership is hardly good in a crisis, but the Penitents have definitely been separating and keeping them down on purpose.

The first step is to bring in Keeper Remick as our prisoner advocate for those folks being held in the basement. The old man puffs himself up with as much importance as he can, aided by all of us backing him up looking tough. “AHEM,” he announces to the nonplussed Penitent guard, “as a member the of town council and keeper of town’s faith, let me speak with your prisoners!”

Silence.

“Can I speak to your manager? I mean leader!”

The Penitent shakes his head.

“Now listen here young man, what seat do you hold on the town council?!”

The Penitent finally speaks. “I have been instructed to-“

“To work WITH the town council,” Remick retorts, showing a surprising amount of backbone. “No matter how much experience you all may have, it is my solemn duty to speak with the town’s prisoners! Allow ,e to do my duty or I will be forced to write a sternly worded letter! APOLOGIZING FOR FORCING OUR WAY PAST YOU!”

The Inquisitor glides up behind his guard, listening to Remick’s speech. “Very well,” he intones in his eerily calm voice, “You may…enter.”

We are brought down to basement. It’s a set of maybe 6 cells, more suited to being a drunk tank than any long-term holding cell. In one cell we spot the distinctive scales of a blue dragonborn, and as our footsteps clank on the stone, an equally distinctive voice begins to shout indignantly.

“You brutes, I demand you return my research materials to me! I was in the middle of some important work when- oh, you aren’t the warden. My goodness! Kyr Argent! I must say, it’s rather good to see a familiar face.” Oh, hi, Lucinius.

The cells are overcrowded – there must be 20 prisoners across 6 cells. Lucinius and everyone else crammed in with him look pretty beaten up. They all look completely normal; the ones with visible mutations have been imprisoned where people can see. These are the prisoners they wouldn’t be able to get away with holding publicly.

Lucinius has clearly got a rant building up. “I explained to them many times that I am a professor from Golden Academy, and they refused to listen! They said my studies are ‘heretical’ and my magics ‘invoke the name of the tyrant god’ – yes, obviously, they were written during the Aquilian empire, they said ‘Oberok’ every other word! It’s not a dirty word! Anyhow. Are you here to let us out?”

“We’re here to be advocates!”

“Oh, we’ve had advocates!” Lucinius huffs. “The Inquisitor is the prosecution, while one of those fanatic knights serves as our ‘advocate.’ It’s quite far from ideal; their position as advocate is that we ought to confess, if we understand the gravity of our crimes. And then they hit us a bit.”

“I’m unfamiliar with the customs of this land,” Gral allows, “but that doesn’t exactly sound like proper advocacy.”

“Well, I certainly don’t know how things are done in this country! I’ve never been accused of a cr- well, I have been accused of many crimes,” Lucinius admits. “I find it’s best never to assume about local customs. That got me into a LOT of trouble with the goblins. Did you know they have a ‘trial by fire?’ I misunderstood it, they just light a big fire to keep the courtroom warm while the trial goes all night. I went to great lengths to cast Protection from Energy! And of course it turns out casting spells as a prisoner is double illegal…”

“Double illegal?”

“Yes, it means they bring in twice as many judges.”

As he rants, the sight of innocent prisoners in miserable conditions seems to be a pretty strong argument. Remick’s fully on board with booting the Penitents out as soon as he can convene the town council.

Gral’s going to make a show of it. Loudly, he declares, “This is a violation of these citizens’ basic rights! We’ll need a full meeting of the town council before any Penitent activities continue!”

The Inquisitor hmms. “That’s…certainly something the Burgermeister could order. But nobody may leave if they have not been inspected. If we cannot continue our inspections, the town would shut down entirely.”

“The lockdown would only start once the Burgermeister declares it, which hasn’t happened yet,” Valeria interjects testily.

We’re politely and pointedly escorted out.

Lucinius shouts after us, “Don’t be long! Tell my bodyguards these people are not allowed into the cart without a warrant signed by someone of noble rank, or at least with a judicial position! Also, contact the embassy! They can’t do this to me, I have tenure-!”

The session closes as we discuss how the hell we’re going to get a Proper Council Meeting with the sheriff out “receiving instruction” from the Penitents and the Burgermeister convinced he’s indisposed. And we’ve got to get at least two of the three to vote the intruders out. That’s not gonna happen without them feeling like they have some way to protect the town from the Curse.

We fondly reminisce that our previous campaign’s party would definitely have started murdering people by now.

[blookmallow]

I FINALLY GOT SKYRIM MARRIED

i have a BEAUTIFUL WIFE

...who i went through a lot of shit for. this is. a lot of exposition, bear with me :’) im very invested in my character’s personal story here

so astrid had a very important special job for me and sent me to markarth to speak with the client directly

it turned out to be the apothecary’s assistant, who i was passingly familiar with already, so i imagine it was a bit of a surprise to both of us, but she got right to the point - a man broke her heart and ruined her life, used her to hurt the people close to her, abandoned her to go become a bandit, now she wants him dead

u can probably imagine where this is going,

this is the first time ive had a dark brotherhood job i was legitimately PSYCHED to carry out, you BET ill go fuck this guy up for you id do this for free

however, she also had... another request, one that wasn’t required, but something she really, really wanted

see she was very close with/practically another daughter to the shatter-shields in windhelm, the wealthy family who recently lost a daughter to the windhelm butcher

alain had manipulated her and used her to get to the shatter-shields, i dont remember if he stole from them or what happened there, but whatever it was, the shatter-shields blamed muiri for this and disowned her, throwing her out onto the streets with nothing

so she was used and had her heart broken by a man she loved, then was told it was Her Fault, and lost her home and her friends/the closest thing to family she had all at once, and was so hurt and desperate she turned to the dark brotherhood to get revenge on them all

she wanted me to kill nilsine too, the shatter-shields’ other daughter

SO we have this really complicated situation where, on the one hand, she wants alain dead for using her and ruining her life and hurting her friends, and like, he’s a bandit leader now, so he’s someone i probably would’ve easily killed off anyway, by “this is a video game not real life”/skyrim standards that’s a no brainer, i have no moral conflict with that and can’t wait to slash this guy’s head off

but on the other hand she’s so broken she wants a woman who used to be her best friend/practically her sister dead too. i dont know what nilsine’s role in this was specifically but these people were essentially her family, and they victim blamed her when she needed their support the most and threw her out with nothing and nowhere to go

and i had already done quests with the shatter-shields before this, so like, i know them too, and they’re sort of friends to me, i helped solve the mystery of their other daughter’s murder and now I’m being asked to kill the other. not to mention everyone’s going to think the butcher’s back/there’s a copycat killer/something and it’s gonna cause a panic again (even if the game doesn’t acknowledge that/directly show that happening, y’know) 

killing someone’s daughter when they’re still in mourning over the first, when they’ve come to trust you, when you’re the one who helped them gain closure over that first death already, is just. a stone cold thing to do

especially looking at it from my character’s perspective, she’d be especially torn on this because she’s a mother herself, but her children are girls she rescued from the streets - lucia was thrown away by her family, sofie was a victim of tragedy and was let down by the people in authority who should have protected and helped her

so medea would relate to tova as a mother and a friend but also relate powerfully with muiri as a victim in this

ultimately i don’t think there’s any real justification to kill nilsine here, i dont think you can really morally defend that, but. i was so drawn to muiri and wanted so badly to give her a shot at a better life and help her heal from all this, and knew she would become a marriage option if i did it bc id seen her name on the marriage options list before, her story fits in so well with medea’s, and like, i dont imagine im gonna have a lot of options for wives who would Know about my connection to the dark brotherhood/the things ive done and be okay with it, so if i went with her, there wouldn’t be a “keeping this horrible secret from my wife” aspect to deal with even though the game probably doesn’t acknowledge it if you do (i mean im still. keeping it from my kids, but. y’know. when they’re older)

and “talk this out with her and help her see how badly her mind’s been warped by the pain she’s been through” isn’t an option given to you, so

in the end i went through with it. killing alain was easy, just like any other bandit camp raid, but to get at nilsine without being caught, i had to sneak into their house when the family was asleep

which i expected would involve a lot of careful sneaking and laborious lock picking

until i realized i could just walk right in

because the door was already unlocked for me. because they consider me a friend and allow me into their home

and that somehow made it so much worse

i killed nilsine with an arrow, nobody heard a thing, and i ran for it before anyone saw me in there or realized what had happened

muiri gave me a special ring as a “symbol of her affection” for doing this, which i think is about the biggest sign i coulda hoped for lmao

i held off on considering marriage for the time though and finally decided i had to go back to windhelm to see if there was anything i could do to make amends to the shatter-shields even though they shouldn’t know it was me/make sure i didnt get seen by a guard without realizing it or something (though it wouldn’t probably matter anyway, guards saw me leave the orphanage immediately after grelod’s death and shrugged that off, so,)

my name’s still clear in windhelm, but...

tova committed suicide after she discovered what happened

she couldn’t cope with losing another daughter

so now the father is the only one left, coping with. the death of his entire family occurring within like a couple months

i didnt see what happened here i came back later so i dont know if this is something you can possibly stop or if its possible to witness the moment they find nilsine or tova’s suicide or if this just Inevitably happens whenever you come back

i feel terrible about this but theres. not really any going back now,

so. i went back to muiri

i dont know if this is what everyone says or not but her response was just. “i mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I be” i love her lmao

i wouldnt choose to get married in riften if it was up to me but thats how it be in skyrim i guess

my babies are here!!!! what!!!!

and a. random guy i dont recognize lmao :’)

just wandered in to see what was going on i guess. or maybe we’re friends and i forgot who he is entirely which would be kind of sad :’ )

maybe it was my long lost father... slipped out before i ever had the chance to realize it

however i actually. ended up doing this scene twice because, fun fact, there’s a glitch where if you don’t manage to catch up to your spouse to talk about where to live before they leave the chapel they can just fucking Disappear sometimes, :’  ) i couldnt find her anywhere after the wedding and finally looked it up and apparently she just fell into the void so i had to reload and run it again. we’re double married now

planned better this time and dressed better but anyway that elf guy didn’t appear this time but some other guy did, who i ALSO cant quite identify, he looks. maybe. kind of like lucas valerian? who is actually a friend to me and was one of the first friends i made so it’d decently make sense for him to come to my wedding, but weird if he came and camilla didn’t, and im not even sure thats him anyway, so i dont know what happened here all around

muiri’s mentor lady came too though which was sweet

im spinning this kind of as... like, medea was so drawn to her and felt so strongly for her she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint her and this was an eye opener for them both as a kind of. “look what kind of people we’ve let ourselves become” and their marriage as a new beginning, love coming from a place of desperation and darkness, starting over and hoping that the divines will forgive what they’ve done

medea’s not leaving the brotherhood but i mmmmmight try to be a little more careful about who i kill

i had intended for her to come live with me in markarth, she’s in on my. assassin life so having kind of this Other Side to my life made sense but... she met my kids at the wedding i guess and she wanted to live with them... which is really cute,

it feels really weird having this huge fancy house all to myself (and uh. argis, i guess) in markarth and having my wife and kids (and lydia, and a fox) all squished into the honestly kinda run-down whiterun house though i think im gonna work on getting the solitude house for them bc its. safer there than in markarth i feel like and ive heard thats like the fanciest/biggest house

there she is..... my Wife

she also sells things now but i feel bad accepting it when she gives me “my share” of the profit like.... babe thats your money i have so much adventuring money and i didnt do shit to help earn that,

i buy things from her sometimes but i refuse to sell her stuff bc i dont want to take any more of her money :’ )

even tho it. doesnt really matter, its video games, i know, but

found lucia, the fox, and muiri all on the bed at once

lydia was just standing like this for a rly long time after muiri moved in i guess she was suspicious but chilled out eventually :’)

gettin along finally

i just realized if we move to solitude lydia’s gonna get left behind though :(

i mean ill still come visit her but. upsetting

my one issue is that muiri still keeps saying “thank you for solving my-....problem.” every time i come in speaking distance of her which is. weird given that its the same line she had before we were married, like, she apparently doesnt get any new things to say, and is Really repetitive (imagine living in a small space with your partner and they say the same sentence with the same intonation every time you step within like 2 feet of them. how long til that gets old, do you think, ) and also its just like??? girl let that go we gotta stop dwelling on this or the kids are gonna start questioning what apparently massively important problem mommy solved

idk why she was laying on the floor but anyway my kids have started calling her “mama” now too and im not crying or anything

[pricechecktranslations]

TTDS: The Emerald Girl; Chapter 4

Torture Tower Doesn’t Sleep: The Emerald Girl infomine under the cut

Scene 1

The three sisters and Rabiah spring into action just as the sun’s gone down. They have a few usable torture implements with them (not Josephine R, though). The girls select their weapons of choice, and Rabiah has the horses hide elsewhere.

Rabiah will make a ruckus outside, distracting the people in the house so the girls can sneak in and get Beritoad. According to Rabiah, whether they can use their full power in the mansion or not depends on how much of Hank’s “malice” is left in there (different word from Evillious malice). Maiden is also in a bad state because she can’t really use her powers at all.

They girls get in position, and Rabiah calls (not really a voice, more like a sonic blast of some kind?) out to get the humans’ attention. The girls then head inside.

Scene 2

Rack jimmies open a window with one of her spikes, and the girls are able to enter the mansion.

They’re found out almost immediately because it turns out this is a person’s room (a middle aged man in a bathrobe). Gibbet throws a ball gag at him to keep him from screaming for help. He tries to run away, but Rack stops him, putting a knee splitter (she calls it “knee crusher”) on his legs. He passes out from the pain. Rack is going to completely destroy his knees but Gibbet presses her that they don’t have time.

There’s no one in the hallway. They can hear fighting going on outside. They are on the second floor. The first floor has a large gathering hall in the center, and that’s where the chapel is. Despite being only two floors tall, the mansion is roughly double the size of Torcia Tower.

The place is basically really dangerous for them, considering its occupants. However, as they discover, everyone seems to be outside.

Maiden leads them towards where Beritoad is (the closer she goes to him, the more she can feel her power returning).

Scene 3

Cut to Rabiah, fighting outside by himself. He has the ability to control grass and rocks (which doesn’t sound that impressive until you see that he’s using the grass to hold people in place and pelting rocks at them at the speed of bullets). Unlike Beritoad he doesn’t take joy in hurting people, he’s just doing it because he has to.

There used to be a looot more wraiths than there are now.

Rabiah is still injured from Tsukumo’s attack earlier. He wonders on how Maiden and Rack have no signs of damage from their battle with her, thinking maybe it’s because they were originally wood and iron.

He continues fighting.

Scene 4

Beritoad is sobbing in his tank from having been vivisected earlier. He still insists that he doesn’t know where the document Hargain is looking for is (claiming he’s never told a lie up to this point). Hargain doesn’t buy that obviously, but then he’s taken by a coughing fit (consuming some kind of powder to stop it) and goes to take a break, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

Beritoad hears the racket going on outside. Hargain does not. He exercises his eyes to look around the mansion and sees that Rabiah and the girls have come to free him.

Scene 5

Liam had run outside when Rabiah attacked like the others, but all he can do is watch from the sidelines as the guards and such are slaughtered by him. He has a gun, but obviously that won’t do much good. He decides to run back inside and get Raymond and Tsukumo (Raymond is still locked in his room, and Tsukumo won’t go anywhere without someone telling her to).

Scene 6

The girls approach the door to the lab where Beritoad is. At first they quibble a little over how to get inside, before Maiden reveals she’s regained her “moving objects through walls/ceilings/etc” power and just sticks her hand through to unlock the door.

Before they can go in, Tsukumo arrives. She’s forgotten who they are (Rack thinks she’s mocking them and strikes at her with her cat’o’nine tails), but then her “wraith hunting tinnitus” (my term, not the book’s) is triggered and she starts summoning a wind to attack them.

Gibbet whips out a “witch’s spider” torture device that attaches to the ceiling, giving her something to grab on to. Maiden uses a hanging noose for a similar purpose, and Rack stabs her spikes into the ground.

Tsukumo’s wind basically wrecks the whole place. Some servants who were still inside hear the noise, and when they run out of their rooms they’re blown up in the gale too.

Scene 7

Beritoad watches the fight outside with his special eyes. This room is untouched by the wind (as it’s specially sealed). Tsukumo’s power reminds him of Hargain (who is sitting down with the weird contraption on his head from before).

Hargain explains that his and Tsukumo’s powers come from the occult. Basically (if I’m understanding right) they borrow the magic from spirits that have these powers themselves, through prayer. Tsukumo is particularly well suited to being a medium for these powers due to how she was made using wraith techniques.

Beritoad asks him why he made her, but Hargain brushes off the question (saying that Beritoad, who sees humans only as food, would never understand his reasons).

Scene 8

Raymond is stuck in his room, hearing the chaos from outside but unable to get out. He prepares to use his lightning to blow the door off, despite the risk of burning the mansion down and killing himself in the process, but just as he’s about to Liam opens the door (with a head injury from having been blown into a wall).

He tells him the situation in brief, encouraging him to help the people outside (as Tsukumo is fighting the girls inside). Raymond realizes that the “black wraith” outside is Beritoad’s familiar, and so despite worrying for Tsukumo he agrees to help stop Rabiah. Liam hands him his estoc knife (which Ramond turns into the estoc proper).

Liam goes to make sure Tsukumo is safe, and Raymond dives out the large window in her room.

Scene 9

Tsukumo stops the wind when she notices the servants are getting caught in it. She doesn’t want to hurt humans.

Tsukumo can’t form new memories, but Hargain has a technique to implant certain rules and memories inside her that she can’t forget. These implanted memories are simplistic, and she can only retain so many. Two of them (the only two?) are to kill all wraiths she meets outside of Beritoad, and to not harm humans.

She instead pulls up the stone flooring of the mansion until it resembles a large hand. The large stone hand attacks Rack, but Maiden takes the blow instead.

Gibbet takes out the Gossiper’s Violin to stop Tsukumo’s attack. It traps her, restricting her movements. Rack takes the opportunity to throw her spikes at her. But Tsukumo summons more stone hands that protect her.

Tsukumo starts making the flowers that had gotten thrown around during the earlier gale grow extremely fast.  The stalks grow long, and then wrap around Tsukumo. They get inside the violin and break it off of her.

The girls start panicking, realizing they are out of their depth.

Scene 10

Meanwhile, Rabiah’s killed most of the people outside. Those who aren’t dead are either unconscious or fleeing. During the battle (he’s winning pretty handily) they wound up getting a little farther from the mansion.

He turns into his raven form to fly back to the mansion, but is then attacked by a beam of light, which he just barely dodges (which chars and burns the grass below). It’s Raymond.

Rabiah recognizes him, having seem him twenty years ago when he murdered Hank.

Raymond sees he’s in bird form (paraphrasing, not a translation: “Is that why Gibbet hates birds?” “Excuse you! I only just met her!” “Well I hate birds too”). Raymond dashes up and grabs Rabiah, throwing him to the ground. This hurts him, but he’s able to fly up again.

Raymond hates birds because he was attacked by another bird wraith a long time ago—an owl, who sealed him inside a gem that she released on the moment of her death for fifteen years. Rabiah realizes he’s talking about “Stolasphia”.

Rabiah pushes his rock attack, having turned back into his humanoid form. Raymond readies his estoc.

Scene 11

Liam arrives where Tsukumo is fighting the girls, but of course he can’t do anything but watch. Tsukumo obviously has the advantage. As he’s watching the “miracles” that she performs, he can’t help but be moved by grief, starting to cry. It doesn’t say why (I think upset that Hargain used her for such a purpose? There’s obviously something about her Liam knows we don’t).

Suddenly, Tsukumo realizes that Raymond is in danger. Maiden attacks her while she’s distracted, using the large blade stuck to her right arm (it’s a guillotine blade, as Gibbet couldn’t pack the whole device in the carriage).

Tsukumo disappears right before Maiden can cut her head off. The girls are on high alert for a moment, thinking Tsukumo will appear again to attack them. But she’s gone.

The girls are then surrounded by Crossrosier people in robes, wielding things like staffs, books, and crystal balls. They claim they’re going to take them down, but of course the girls aren’t worried in the slightest.

Scene 12

Raymond is having trouble getting his hits to connect with Rabiah, as he’s in his bird form. He’s caught by the grass magic, pretty much trapped. Rabiah taunts him.

Raymond reflects on how, with his previous fights, he’d gathered info on his foes beforehand, and had time to prepare. Fighting a pureblooded wraith head on without preparation is hard. It’s also not a good location, with lots of grass and rocks that Rabiah can use to his advantage (Raymond’s not sure if he has other powers, but still).

He realizes the humans he ran out here to protect are all gone, thus making the fight pointless (outside of defeating Beritoad’s familiar). He shifts his plan to making a retreat. He distracts Rabiah with lightning and goes to dive for Lake Last. But Rabiah trips him with the grass and fires rocks at him.

His strike is blocked by boulders firing his way. Raymond realizes that Tsukumo has arrived to protect him, and she looks furious.

Scene 13

The speaker (it doesn’t say who, but it’s Hargain) can hear the screams of the people the girls are torturing outside, but he doesn’t care about that now. He can feel his strength leaving his body. This is the cost of his power that exceeds human knowledge.

This bit is a little bit vague—he seems to wish to keep giving Tsukumo her powers (her “miracles”), as it’s the only thing he can do to atone for taking everything from her.

He reflects that there are no gods, nor demons, but he prays to something that doesn’t exist to be reborn again.

Scene 14

Rabiah and Tsukumo are battling. He realizes he can’t win against her and tries to flee using his bird form. As he’s flying over the lake, Tsukumo causes a wall of water to rise up towards him, dragging him back to her.

She prepares her ice spears to kill him with, eyes growing brighter. But then suddenly the light leaves her eyes. She says something about no longer being able to see the spirits, and her powers leave her.

Scene 15

The girls get the lab door open. They immediately find Beritoad (who apparently has his organs showing from his stomach from the vivisection, though he’ll have Maiden fix him up when they get to the tower).

Gibbet is the only one to notice Liam and Hargain there. Beritoad informs them of who they are, and the girls prepare for battle. However, Liam has no wish to fight them. Hargain is dead. His body was overtaxed with the strain of using wraith powers.

Beritoad explains that the gold ring thing that was on Hargain’s head was conveying his “magic” to Tsukumo, who was able to amplify it to the extremes to manipulate the natural world. She has no powers without that.

Liam freaks out when, during the discussion, they reveal that Tsukumo ran out to help Raymond. He runs out to help his friends, and the girls run after him, leaving Beritoad behind.

Beritoad is miffed, but finds he can walk of his own power, and hops out of the tank to freedom. He’s disappointed Hargain died without suffering fear.

Scene 16

Rabiah is preparing the killing stroke, with Tsukumo powerless. He’s once again in human form. Raymond intervenes, and so Rabiah calls forward his wraith horses, making it three against one. Raymond prepares to fight to give at least Tsukumo a chance to escape when Liam shows up.

The girls are shortly after him, and Rack throws her spikes at Raymond. Now it’s six against two.

Liam tosses his gold bracelet at Raymond, telling him to wear it and then gather his lightning magic inside. Raymond does so (despite the fact that he’s normally forbidden from using lightning magic with metal on his person, as it’ll conduct the electricity and shock him too), feeling pain from his own electricity.

Rabiah tries to hit him with his rocks, but they’re blasted away. It turns out that what Raymond is doing has given Tsukumo power again. She gathers up a giant lightning attack to use against all of the wraiths present (appearing to have lost her sanity in the process). The scene ends on it striking the lake, the mansion, and everyone present.

[rhiannonfrater]

The Anti-Makeup Movement & Growing Up Fundamentalist

I grew up in the sheltered world of Evangelical Christianity. There were very rigid gender roles, everyone went to church on Wednesdays, Sunday morning and Sunday night, and everyone understood a ton of unspoken rules that as a kid I learned about as I broke them.

Example: Don’t do cartwheels if you’re a girl. Because girls don’t wear shorts or jeans. Only dresses.

My mom ignored this rule after people complained about my tomboyish behavior. I got to wear stuff other little girls couldn’t because I was always climbing trees, doing cartwheels, and swinging from the monkey bars. My best friend’s mom finally started putting her daughter in shorts under her dress. Why? Some men complained they could see her underwear when she was playing on the playground.

Yeah.

Women didn’t wear makeup. They had their hair long and plain. They had to always wear dresses. Sleeveless blouses or dresses were scandalous. Men wore button down shirts and trousers. Only workmen wore jeans.

But the big thing…WOMEN DIDN’T WEAR MAKEUP.

If a woman wore makeup, she was being a whore. Only bad women wore makeup. Using makeup was the devil’s tool to lead women into a life of sin so they could drag men down with them. I remember sermons at church that railed against the evils of women wearing makeup. Most of the women in the congregation were bare faced, but four sisters from Spain always wore cosmetics, perfume, and designer clothes. I adored them. They’d sit stony faced as the pastor went on and on about the evils of makeup. Every Sunday, they’d arrive in their fancy cars, elegant clothes, beautiful hairstyles, and carefully made up faces and smiled at the frowns. They were wealthy supporters of the church, so they were untouchable. That pastor finally retired and the new one didn’t see the point of preaching against stuff. He was more about teaching people how to be good. My dad, the assistant pastor, felt free to carry on preaching hateful rhetoric. He was the biggest hypocrite, btw. There are many reasons he is out of my life now.

I attended private Christian school and the same rules applied. Only a few women broke the no makeup rule, but it was usually something simple like lip gloss or mascara. If a teenager showed up at school wearing makeup, she was made to wipe it all off. This was usually a shocking moment for new female students. Of course, this was the school that made the girls line up, hands at their sides, to prove that their dresses were knee length. So you can imagine our shock when the BIG policy change at school was that girls could wear culottes!!!! At gym. But still…the scandal! It was later overturned.

There was so much time dedicated to policing female bodies of all ages. How long our nails could be…how we wore our hair…how long our skirts were…how we took care of our bodies. I remember some missionary ladies coming to do presentations and our fascination with their unshaved legs. It was vanity to shave their legs, we were told. In the fifth grade I attended yet another private school. Every morning we had to attend chapel for 40 minutes. Every morning we heard about the wickedness of fornication, the evils of makeup, women leading men astray, the murder of innocent babies in the womb, etc. Hellfire felt like it was burning at our backs. Ages 6 to 18 all sat through these propaganda fests. We were pretty traumatized. Again, teenage girls wearing makeup were forced to take it off.  I remember one girl putting it right back on after they made her take it off. She ended up running away. It took days for them to find her. She was found with her boyfriend. I hate to say it, but she was held up as an example of a whore. We weren’t supposed to be like her! She was forced back to school. On the bus one day, I watched her carve her boyfriend’s name into her forearm with a razor blade. She looked up and smiled at me. That was the last time I saw her. She was sent away. I don’t know to this day where she was sent or what they did to her. When my teacher got married, she wore a full face of makeup and a sleeveless dress. It was kinda scandalous. The defiance! The scandal! But at least she was married. My mother pushed the family toward a more relaxed version of Christianity once my dad stopped being a minister. She openly defied my father. She took us to movies (my dad had a meltdown when we went to see Star Wars), let us listen to the radio, allowed us to watch television, and she returned to dressing and looking how she liked. Rebellion like that was dangerous because he was not a good man. All the things he preached against all those years, he did in secret, but he was hardcore on proper appearances. He didn’t walk the walk, but he wanted us all to look like he did. At thirteen, my mom allowed me to put on makeup for the first time. My dad grabbed me by the hair and wiped it off with his fingers while calling me a whore. I was bruised and red afterward. My mom bought me my own makeup that I put on in the school restroom and took off before I got home. It was the 80’s so it was bright blues, purples, and pinks. I liked how radical I felt. Defiant.

I don’t know when the tide turned in evangelical circles. Maybe it was Tammy Faye Baker and Jan Crouch on their religious television networks that made it okay to wear makeup. I remember Tammy Faye defending her makeup wearing ways, but in a few years it wasn’t a big deal. Women at church had big ‘dos and lots of makeup. It became “the look.”

I’m sure that some of the stricter sects still shun makeup and any clothing perceived as too revealing or two masculine, but now makeup is seen as something feminine (as long as it’s a certain look).   After a while, I got bored with cosmetics, so all I wore was black eyeliner and brownish lipstick. Then I discovered the goth scene.

It was like coming home. I love looking like Lily or Morticia. I love extreme looks. In my 20’s, I wore variations of Endora’s eye makeup from Bewitched to work. I find wearing makeup liberating. It’s a way of projecting who I am on the inside to the world on the outside. My bright red hair, black clothing, and wicked cat-eye tells a story about me. I’ve seen all the arguments about women giving into patriarchy, etc, when they wear makeup. Having grown up in a repressive society that was rigidly controlled by men, it feels weird to see the anti-makeup comments coming from the other side. It’s even weirder that men outside the cultish Christianity I grew up with are now the ones who tell women they look prettier without makeup or call their meticulously made up faces “false advertising.” It feels like a constant crossfire of the same arguments from long ago coming from the mouths of different people. But it boils down to the same thing.

Controlling a woman’s body.

I remember that fifteen year old girl carving into her arm with a razor blade, dark eyes peering up at me through her thickly mascaraed eyelashes. Her makeup was her war paint, her black lipstick a sign of ultimate defiance against the strict religious and patriarchal system we were up against. I was told she was a whore. A bad person. But I now see she was doing her best to fight against a system that wanted to crush us all into perfect, mindless drones. I hope, in the end, she won.

[weirdletter]

London Lovecraft Festival: A Teatrichal Celebration of the Works and Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft. February 3-9, 2019 at The Old Red Lion Theatre, 418 St. John Street, London, UK. Info: oldredliontheatre.co.uk; londonlovecraft.com.

Taking place over seven nights, the festival will have original and gently-loved productions presented to London audiences deep in the depths of darkest pub theatredom. With world premieres as well as tried and true creations, both Lovecraft novices and deeper initiates should find their palates tickled and their brains disturbed.

6:00pm Sunday, February 3rd Pickman’s Model Meet Richard Upton Pickman, an artist shunned by the establishment because of his horrifying paintings. But what kind of company has Pickman been keeping? And who — or what — pays a visit to his studio on one terrifying evening? The story is perfect material for Nunkie Theatre — one-man performances by Robert Lloyd Parry, who is best known for his adaptations of the work of PD James. He’s an amazing actor, with a real talent for bringing a story to life and sending a shiver down your spine. Although this is a rehearsed reading, the fright factor should be very high as the original story is one of Lovecraft’s best and Parry is an expert at filling intimate spaces with lurking horror.

7:30pm Sunday 3rd Night of 1000 Tentacles Clocktopus Cabaret presents: Night of 1000 Tentacles! On their second expedition,  Captain Bang Bang and her trustworthy first mate, Stormina Teacup, set out for eldritch realms. Join them and a host of London burlesque and cabaret favorites, including Dolly Trolly with a brand new Lovecraft themed act, and necromantic sorcerer – er, magician – Chris Benkin with his sleight of tentacle, for an outstanding steampunk/transdimensional night of wonders. You will gasp, you will gibber, you will wonder … where did they hide those eyeballs?

9:15 PM Sunday 3rd Cool Air Dr. Muñoz has spent their life battling the forces of death. When Miskatonic University student Natalie Peaslee comes looking for help for her heart, she has no idea how far Muñoz will go to win that fight. As summer rages, they’ll both need to keep a cool head to make it out of Arkham alive. This staged reading directed by Emma Muir Smith marks the European debut of Ron Sandahl’s stage adaptation, originally presented at Seattle’s Open Circle Theatre in 2005.

7:00pm Monday 4th Lovecraft Shivers Do you like stories that make the hairs stand up at the back of your neck? Sam Enthoven’s Shivers nights have been giving aficionados that sensation of spiders down the spine for more than a year now. Sam picks and adapts the finest frightening literature and finds great performers to read it. The twist with Shivers is that these tales are then paired with live sounds from his uniquely uncanny instrument, the theremin, and some of the best up-and-coming artists from London’s experimental music scene. The result is a kind of cinema for the ears and imagination, with storytelling and sound combining to draw you irresistibly in, to reach cold fingers into your mind, to give you Shivers. The stories of H.P. Lovecraft have, naturally, featured at previous Shivers nights. We’ve performed From Beyond in the chapel of Abney Park Cemetery and Dagon in the hold of Spanish galleon The Golden Hinde. The opportunity, however, to put together a new all-Lovecraft Shivers for the festival that celebrates Horror’s dark prince himself is, like his legacy, irresistible. We look forward to scaring you.

7:00pm Monday 4th Albertina West: Reanimator Schoolmates Albertina West and Carla Milburn are scientists in  pursuit of knowledge – about reanimating the dead. But when the formula only seems to work on the freshest of bodies, it’s a small step to take from robbing graves to murder. And for some reason, the awakened dead don’t seem very happy about it… In this work commissioned especially for the London Lovecraft Festival, TL Wiswell extends her suite of genderswitched Lovecraft tales to this perennial favorite. Come and see a play Borne and Walk (but not come back for revenge).

7:00pm Tuesday 5th and Wednesday 6th Providence “Life is a hideous thing.” Prepare to be amazed, terrified, and driven insane! Great Cthulhu may be sleeping beneath the sea, but in Providence, Rhode Island, Lovecraft can’t get a wink. Join the morose and miserable Howard Phillips Lovecraft, author of ‘The Call of Cthulhu’, ‘Shadow Over Innsmouth’ and other incredibly weird tales, as he contemplates the many mistakes that make up his life. His father went mad when he was four. He suffered a mental breakdown when he was eighteen. He lived with his overprotective mother until he was thirty. He loathed seafood, loved coffee and hated immigrants. Indeed he despised anyone who wasn’t an 18th century English Gentleman.  But he hated himself most of all. Lovecraft’s losses were fortunately our gains as his enigmatic, tortured mind gave birth to a body of work we now consider as the foundations of the modern horror genre. Using physical comedy, live music and all the classic horror tropes you can rattle a chain at, Dominic Allen (Belt-Up, A Common Man) and Simon Maeder (Superbolt Theatre) explore a wretched life and ask a haunting question: can any love be salvaged from one so filled with hate? Winner of Vaults Festival ‘Pick of the Week’ award.

9:00pm Tuesday 5th and Wednesday 6th The Lurking Fear and other stories Nestled in amongst the Catskills, sits Tempest Mountain. Far from a vacation destination. This mountain is shrouded in death and destruction. At the heart of all the horror, sitting empty and imposing atop the mountain, is the legendary House of Martense. No-one from the town below, that lies quivering in the shadow of the Martense mansion, ever dares venture up there. Especially when there’s a storm brewing. That is until an inquisitive young journalist, with a self-confessed ‘Love of the grotesque and horrible’, finds herself alone, following the trail of what the locals will only call “The Lurking Fear”. Broken Word Productions Presents The Lurking Fear and Other Stories, an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Lurking Fear”, as well as an introduction to some of his shorter stories. With the aid of puppetry and storytelling, follow our Hero as she faces one of Lovecraft’s deadliest monsters. This is Broken Word’s second theatre production, following it’s 4 star debut with Train Journey at the Camden Fringe earlier this year. They are excited to be taking, somewhat of a darker turn in presenting the World Premiere of (in their opinion) not one, but two of Lovecraft’s finest horrors.

9:00pm Thursday 7th The Witching Hour Montague Rhodes James returns with another selection of unsettling tales of antiquarian terror! Brave the horrors lying in wait within “An Episode of Cathedral History”! Witness the spectral malevolent seeking revenge in “A Warning to the Curious”! One-man show and follow-up to our successful touring production of “Old Haunts”. Jonathan Goodwin plays M.R. James in a show scripted by himself, and directed by Gary Archer.

7:00pm Thursday 7th Lovecraft After Dark Allow the cosmic horror of Howard Philip Lovecraft to envelop your senses and blast your imagination! At any moment, the terrors of the Ancient Ones may be unleashed upon the world. The Elder Gods scrutinise our every deed, awaiting their opportunity to reclaim what was once theirs. Madness will be a blessing to those mere mortals who witness the crawling chaos soon to be released upon mankind! Jonathan Goodwin plays Cornelius Pike in Lovecraft After Dark. The show is scripted by Goodwin, and co-directed by Goodwin and Gary Archer.

7:00pm Friday 8th & Saturday 9th 3:00pm Saturday 9th Late Night with Cthuhlu It’s been a few hundred years since the Great Old Ones awoke from their ancient slumber and enslaved humanity. Yet somehow, against all the odds, life has gone back to normal…ish. Thankfully, the people of London now have something to look forward to at the end of a long day of suffering and toiling. A being known only as THE PRODUCER has ordered the city’s best Television Station (or maybe the city’s *only* television station) be reopened, and for the broadcast of a new state-approved talk show “Late Night With Cthulhu” to stretch its tendrils onto the airwaves. Join your hosts Arabella Fenneck Reid and Sebastian Baxter Thompson for the newest instalment of your new favourite (and mandatory) evening of post-apocalyptic light entertainment. Late Night With Cthulhu is a heart-shuddering romp through a world after the return of the Great Ones. So come along and tune in for an evening of all stars, guest stars, and things beyond the stars! If you’re lucky, you might just go insane…” Trigger warnings: Strobe Lights, Loud Noises, Creeping Dread.

5:00pm Saturday 9th Writing Lovecraft A rehearsed reading of the winning play written for the London Lovecraft Festival.

9:00pm Friday 8th and Saturday 9th The Colour Out of Space With their signature live-Foley treatment, Shedload bring the already potent storytelling of Lovecraft to life through a carefully structured mix of live readings by highly-trained and experienced actors, and sound effects, performed by our very own Foley experts. For this, we rely on a whole ‘shed’s’ worth of sound makers, including every day items such as gardening tools, coal scuttles and salad spinners, as well as more niche instruments such as the ‘sea hoops’, grapefruit (and other choice fruit & veg items), and our prized possession: the Waterphone; an instrument that will no doubt be familiar to every horror film fan. So picture the scene – a dimly-lit stage, with a set comprising Arkham’s town sign and boundaries; a lone narrator, centre stage, using to great effect Lovecraft’s faithfully-adapted writing to describe the horror of the disintegrating farm animals before him – but hang on! – not only are you picturing this, you’re hearing it too: A pig barks out its last rattling breath as its skull collapses – its rotting flesh spills out onto the ground… – voice actor, red pepper, grapefruit, and a hammer – The RØDE mic does the rest. Chilling screams from the attic, complete with nails scratching on wooden floorboard, and the palpable wail of the strange celestial matter plaguing the farm… namely, The Colour out of Space.

12:00pm through 10:00pm, Sunday 3rd through Saturday 9th Patient 4620 Gretel Sauerbrot: a once famous artist, admitted to the Raventhorne Institution and then never heard from again. You are invited to the Royal Museum of Contemporary Art, and through a series of audio guides you explore and uncover clues to Gretel’s past. This unique theatre show is a blend of immersive theatre, auditory storytelling, and art installation; resulting in a rich and sensory experience that won’t be easily forgotten. To experience the show at its fullest, audiences should bring a Smartphone or WiFi enabled device, along with a headset. In the event you cannot provide your own device and/or headset, you will be loaned items on entering the show.

[ryouverua]

Trial 4 (Part 1)

Investigation stuff is here (1) and here (2) and as usual, part 2 is where I lay out my idea of how things went down before the trial - so without further ado (and with great trepidation), let’s go.

Uuh..... Why are you asking that? Last time you asked about the rules, it was because there were two kills. This time there’s only one... so why do you think there would be a split decision?!?!

Hey hey, what?! What?!

NO I DON’T THINK WE SHOULD IGNORE THIS TBH!!!

I-It’s called character development, damn it!

Alright, time to get to the meet of the trial. What’s the first topic of discussion?

OMFG KOKICHI

I-I mean, at least he isn’t saying he himself did it, right? So, uh, look! More character development! somehow I don’t think Kaito would find comfort in this statement

But naturally, Kokichi being... well, himself, does come prepared with evidence. Kaito did get logged out first, after all - though again, I think the key thing is that he didn’t do it himself.

I guess the real question that I keep going back and forth on is this: does Kokichi actually think Kaito is the culprit, or is he just using the suspicious circumstances around him logging out as a way to hammer in his point about trusting the people around you blindly? Because on the one hand feel like Kokichi might actually know (based on my theories around the case and even with the question he asked at the beginning of the trial) but he’s also very, very fast to pounce on Kaito here. Maybe it’s a case of being inspired to use the puzzle pieces around him to prove something...

Anyway, everyone comes out immediately to defend him because it’s Kaito damn it, and....

Kokichi is back with that cutting truth again. It’s interesting - he’s always very playful when he’s outright lying, but he becomes ominously serious when he’s truthful.

It’s only been a few minutes, but it really feels like Kokichi is seizing control of the trial. Are we about to thrown down with him?!

Dame da ze! Zen zen dame da ze! I feel like more than ever, this trial will end up with me referring to Umineko a lot. I’ve been trying to avoid it up to this point, but with all this talk about truth and lies along with believing in others vs distrust.... Well, apologies in advance oTL I’ll try to keep it loose and explain as I go. This trial is already giving me all sorts of Feelings.

Anyway, discussion time! We found poison, Kaito logged out over an hour before everyone else, etc...

also Himiko says ‘any last words to Kaito’ at one point and it’s kinda damn hilarious

Anyway, the way to kill someone outside of the game is with poison, and Shuichi pretty quickly points out that the symptoms don’t match what was written on the bottle. And honestly, I’m pretty sure Kokichi knew that already.

Hmm... but I guess the question is, was it a diversion to think Miu died by poison or the original intended victim?

I really thought it would end up being a big red herring, but here we go! It’s the so-called murder weapon after all! Oh, but now that I think about it, I should have realized - DR2 had ‘the fun house’ end up being the murder weapon, so it would make sense for the chapter 4 weapon to be ‘the environment/world’ itself again. Glad they addressed it quickly, though!

Oh god, I know this is supposed to be a funny moment but this is actually hurting my heart because it is really solidifying my theory of him not remembering the VR world at all.

MAKI DON’T BE RUDE

please be wrong please be wrong please be wrong he sounds so lost and confused and everyone is assuming it’s because he’s a Big Dumb Wild Boy who Doesn’t Know Anything and is Very Slow asdkflj this is making things even worse

I don’t know if it’s common or not for people to have made this hypothesis before going into trial 4 or not (I’d be curious about Kaede’s trial too tbh) but it’s... making things really painful...

SLOW CLAP

And this is the important question. She was supposed to be together with the others, but she very clearly went off on her own - as well, she was supposedly stuck on that side of the map. But of course, she set her own avatar parameters to ‘object’ for that very reason after her, uh, very subtle move of separating the two sides via tossing the bridge in the river.

Anyway after some weird back and forth about Himiko’s chest between her and Kokichi seriously what -

I just wanted to isolate Gonta’s absolute abhorrence at the idea of hitting a lady. 8′D e-even if I think you strangled her with your bare hands, I... I-I guess it’s better than beating by a long shot...

It’s so nice to have these two agree on something every now and then ~

:( And dialogue like this makes it that much worse if what I think is coming is actually coming. But yeah, we decided on strangulation in the end. To be fair, all of this stuff was somewhat easy.

MAN Kokichi can’t resist taking potshots at Maki! I’m starting to wonder how attached you are to your life, kiddo!

Yeah, but... if she was distracted? By, say, being in the middle of her own attack? A surprise attack on her?

Oh, okay! I’ll admit, I didn’t think we would be going in the direction of having a weapon outside of bare hands!

HA my laughter was ugly I’ll admit.

Anyway, okay, apparently it’s a sure thing that the culprit used something!

Okay... yeah, I totally only figured this out when Shuichi said it was something we found in the process of the investigation. Helps that there’s nothing else that would fit - and oh, damn it, the importance of objects not breaking wasn’t related to Miu setting her avatar setting to object, it’s because the toilet paper wouldn’t break. Oooooh.

OH WTF UM H-HI GONTA??? holy shit you scared me

Okay, see, I get it now, but it’s totally fair for Gonta to argue the point about toilet paper being impossible because I fell in the same trap. Aah, I kinda feel dumb now. 8′D with that said oh god wasn’t the toilet paper around the same area we found you right after that loud bang...

NO SHUT UP KOKICHI DON’T BE RUDE TO GONTA

FUcK

FUCK FUCK FUCK

no I’m 100% sure now, this does it for me

HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND BECAUSE *HE DOESN’T REMEMBER ANY OF THE VIRTUAL WORLD SHIT*

I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING CRAZY HERE

god they just think he’s dumb

but of course he would question them all talking about how toilet paper could be used as a rope, because that’s not possible!!! And why are they suddenly talking about how in this area of the school they went to, that he doesn’t even remember, toilet paper can suddenly break the laws of physics as he understands them??? Of course he doesn’t understand why they’re suddenly talking about the ways in which real world rules don’t apply! If you hadn’t been there to observe it, it would be incredibly difficult to wrap your mind around! But no, because it’s Gonta, they’re just brushing him off! AAAAAAAAAAARGH STOP TALKING OVER GONTA PLEASE LISTEN TO HIM

And fucking Gonta just accepts that he must be wrong and they’re right because he’s ‘such a stupid boy’ oh god my heart is crying for him right now

Shuichi I understand you’re trying to be patient with him and listening to him, and being kind, but you are actually being dismissive and patronising in your attempts and kindness....

HOLY SHIT HIMIKO did Tenko’s death set your burn level to third degree??!?!

It’s okay K1-b0, just keep supporting your girlfriend kiiruma even in death I suppose . It’s probably better that you don’t understand tbh...

They do bring up the question of why the toilet paper was found where it was, and other than it being in the same place around a certain individual and flagging my suspicions, I can’t think of why that would be, honestly! Wouldn’t it have made more sense to send it flying off with Miu, assuming she was killed on the roof and then ~transported~ over to the chapel side?

But everyone moves on, and the hammer is brought up. Fair - the hammer was found with the body. But of course that brings up why the hammer is there, and who brought it...

Yeah, damn. We really are going the ‘Miu tried to kill someone’ route. I knew she had started freaking out badly when that last flashback light was brought out, but she had broken down mentally to this level...

MAN I love some of the creative stuff they did with the text in this game! This might be one of my favourites, tbh!

D... Did you just tell us the answer? Seriously, what’s your game, Kokichi???

BULLSHIT YOU DID

The fact that he can put that question out there like this, so calmly... I think that’s part of what makes him so terrifying. But I think he knew that long before this trial...

... Which.... is why he was so keen on making sure Gonta was with him at all times...

Is this the ‘interesting thing’ he was talking about to Monokuma about? When he said Miu was ‘planning something interesting’??? How in the world did he figure out she was plotting to kill him in such a mad-scientist-style way?

one psyche taxi later

I just want to point out how in sync the two are right now. I mean, I’m pretty sure this is intentional on Kokichi’s part considering he’s practically leading Shuichi from point A to point B, but I have a feeling he is quite pleased at how quickly Shuichi is picking up the breadcrumbs he’s sprinkling behind him.

Ahaha aaaaaw, Kaito really can’t catch a break even when he’s defending Miu...

But yeah - I actually forgot about that point. As important as it seemed that Kaito was logged out early, Miu logged in last. That’s plenty of time to set up a murder scene beforehand!

omfg triple x over her face MONOKUMA ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

But yes, once the cellphone is brought back up the profile of the would-be blackened in an AU trial is complete. I wonder how things would have gone then?

And it’s finally dawning on everyone that there is no ‘student X’. But I think, what they seem to be dancing around as they get caught up in this, is that there’s a second killer here - and outside of Kokichi (sorry, but true), no good answer that will leave them feeling satisfied.

Yeah, I thought so. And Kaito gets rightfully pissed, because now it’s pretty clear that putting Kaito out as the potential culprit has just been one long trick by Kokichi.

“This is a game of wolf and sheep. And if you don’t accept that there is a wolf amongst this flock of sheep, you’ll all be devoured.” There’s no 16th student to fall back on, unfortunately...

Man, it is quite clever for Kokichi to have taken the situation he was handed to target Kaito like this. I mean, I hardly think Kokichi knew all of what Miu was planning to the last detail! But I do think that he has been gunning for Kaito for a while now - maybe since Kaito punched him?

No, actually - I bet it was when Kaito called Kokichi ‘naive’ during the previous trial for not trusting people. This is his retaliation. “See what would have happened if I had trusted Miu?” 

Oh, this is definitely a fucking call-out by Kokichi against Kaito! Is he trying to dethrone Kaito as the fill-in leader? It would explain why he also seems to be targeting Shuichi!

fml is this a mastermind hint??? That the mastermind is female??? The ‘Mommy’ you’ve forgotten is the mastermind????

“- ANYWAY forget that weird manufactured drama.”

I feel like I’m repeating myself trial after trial, but yeah, once again, he really does have a point! How would it have gone down?

Kokichi’s avatar would be found unmoving, but with no fanfare - someone would have come across him in the roof. The most likely candidates would be Shuichi in his search for Kaito, as Maki would be stuck on the other side. Because there would be no indicator of Miu being on that side, she would be able to sneak back onto the other side and dispose of the hammer quietly.

Tsumugi spotted her, yes, but would she bring it up in a strong enough way to get everyone’s attention, or would Miu bully her down by plainly (lol) stating the rules again, as she originally laid them out?

They would all log out, with Kaito having been logged an hour before.

Bam - Kokichi, with no physical marks on his body, but with blunt force trauma - he’d be clutching his head, perhaps, and would maybe have subconjuctival haemorrhaging if Miu was lucky, playing right into the idea of it being the poison.

And of course the poison would have been found on Kokichi’s seat. Miu would pull up the log in/out records, etc etc, and Monotaro wouldn’t be needed... probably.

Also how incredibly shocking would it have been to find Kokichi Ouma dead in his chair at the end of Chapter 4?!

“I AM THE GOD OF THIS WORLD!!!”

Yeeeeah, that really does put a whole new spin on her desperation in getting us there, huh?

Harsh............ but of course....

That was the whole point. Well-played, Kokichi Ouma. Well-played.

[tuwasduwillst]

ch4 (pt 2)

Shuichi just logged off!

well, that’s probably why Miu’s avatar wasn’t moving.

i’m sorry, what

all of ‘em are in there already except for Kaito, who comes running in at the body announcement.

hm.

he actually would, he basically sentenced Kaede to death already and if he didn’t ~pursue the truth~ it’d be breaking his promise to her. he wouldn’t be happy about it or anything, but even if Kaito killed someone he’d tell the truth about it.

talking about stuff~ Kaito says he believes in Shuichi because he’s his sidekick and they’ll investigate together, etc.

Kaito says it’s not a problem because Shuichi isn’t the type to lie even if they work together, but since Kokichi’s being so persistent about it, he says that they won’t work together this time then.

Shuichi thinks that this is definitely some kind of trick of Kokichi’s, but he also knows that Kaito isn’t going to be convinced to just ignore him, so that’s how things are.

not a ton of information in the file. no external injuries.

apparently Kokichi’s going to be hanging around Shuichi to make sure Kaito doesn’t “bother him”. i’m fine with it! Shuichi is much less enthused.

if you spend so much time being suspicious of every little thing Kokichi does, all you’re going to do is wear yourself out, Shuichi! if he’s done something the damage is already done, so all you have to do is deal with it and figure things out.

let’s talk to people!

Tsugumi apparently saw Miu about 10 minutes before she approached Shuichi, and when she approached Shuichi was about the same time they heard that loud noise.

haha.

Maki was checking out the computer and found out that if someone’s avatar took fatal damage, they’d die from shock. that’s probably something that Miu should’ve told them from the start!

oh, Kokichi just brought up the fact that she didn’t tell them. now Shuichi’s wondering about that, too.

the red bear offers to help “avenge his mommy’s death” by checking to make sure the files haven’t been tampered with. they haven’t, and he also found something else:

log-in and log-out times! Kaito logged out well before everyone else (over an hour before anyone else), but otherwise nothing seems like it’s out of the ordinary.

oh, here it is bigger.

Kokichi was being mean to Gonta, so Shuichi stepped in, but after that...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯  at least you’ve got another person actively helping the investigation now, i wouldn’t really worry about why it’s happening until it becomes a problem

and then they found Miu’s avatar. she’d apparently volunteered to check the outside of the chapel, so that’s why she was outside.

hmm. he says he didn’t look at Miu, so he doesn’t know if she was alive or not before he left.

why wouldn’t you look at everyone else after being logged out of something like that, wouldn’t you want to see if anyone else had been logged out at the same time?? who the hell has something like that happen and just goes “gee, better go take a nap and not look at any of the other people to check if anything’s gone wrong”?

it’s possible, especially since it’s Kaito, but what the heck.

anyway, moving on... Miu’s body being the way it is makes it seem like she died a painful death and that she might’ve been struggling to breathe when she died. strangulation?

okay, calm down, mister.

hey, it’s poison! from Shuichi’s lab, probably, like Kokichi is saying. apparently it’s a very lethal poison when ingested directly (not mixed with anything else), and it gives the victim bloodshot eyes.

Shuichi doesn’t know who brought it in for sure, but he does know whose chair it’s in right now.

you can say Kokichi’s name in your own mental narration, Shuichi, it’s okay. 

anyway, this might not be the crime scene, so they’ll have to go back to~

yes! Kaito says that he’s going along too, in that case. a handful of others say they want to go back as well; Maki, Gonta, and Kokichi say they’ll stay behind.

i wanna see your tiny little avatar again... Kokichi says he has to stay behind to keep an eye on Maki, since she and Kaito are so close.

Kaito predictably gets upset at pretty much everything Kokichi says, even though Maki tells him to just ignore him.

into the virtual world~

yeah, but the loading point is in the middle. it’s obvious that there’s a way to the left side of the map from the right, since the wooden sign went down the river and ended up getting stuck on a rock on the left side. also, when Tsumugi and Shuichi heard Kiibo, they looked to their left--so they can hear things from that side.

that’s just what you’re assuming, Shuichi!!

hey, i found that earlier and Shuichi wouldn’t look at it!

virtual crime scene! ...well, they’re all virtual crime scenes, i guess... since this is a video game...

the cell phone can log people out just by saying their name, so that’s important.

Kiibo overheard Miu and Kokichi talking about meeting on the roof before they all split up.

...did she go sliding off the roof and into the wall of the chapel? because if so, that’s terrible, but also kind of funny.

geez, Shuichi, what kind of a detective are you. the lattice was in here. you were standing right on it!

looking through the binoculars and Shuichi wonders why the map loading point would be in the middle. is it actually in the middle? if Miu made the maps, she can do whatever she wants with that kind of thing...

time to head back! Maki showed up and said that Monotaro is done with the computer stuff, so they should all gather back in the room. 

why would you ever want to draw something on his stomach...

anyway, Shuichi wants to ask him about his meeting with Miu.

there was a lock on the roof door that could only be locked and unlocked from the roof itself. Kokichi can pick locks in the real world, but idk if he’d be able to in the virtual world...

the hammer was the only weapon-like thing left, and it must have been left intentionally. the cellphone was in the simulation originally and Miu just never told anyone about it.

Miu’s avatar was classified as a “non-human object”. is that why she was able to get from one side of the map to the other? if the sign board can and it can go into the river, maybe it’s just because it’s an object.

oh, apparently Miu added a wall to the world. and yep, non-human objects can pass right through it, so that explains that.

also, Kokichi’s avatar had a setting that made it so that if Miu touched him, he’d be paralyzed.

and finally, there was a weird user error when they first logged in. Monotaro can’t get more specific about it than that, but something weird was definitely going on with one of their avatars.

with that last bit of information, it’s time for the trial.

it’s starting off well, clearly.

anyway, Kokichi says that Kaito poisoned Miu after logging out before everyone else, but obviously he didn’t. Kokichi himself made sure that Shuichi knew what that poison did (wrt eyes--Miu’s aren’t bloodshot).

the cause of death was the simulator. something happened to her in there.

Maki and Shuichi both think that she was strangled.

...was she strangled with the toilet paper???? nothing can break there, so it couldn’t have broken off even if it was used for something like that.

oh, hey, that’s the next question.

i mean, she wasn’t that bad. did i like her? not particularly, for the most part. would i say she deserved to get strangled by toilet paper? no.

...was Miu planning on killing Kokichi with the hammer? if she had it with her and Kokichi would’ve been paralyzed just by her touching him, that’s kind of shady. actually, that’s super shady, since she was the only one that knew about the hammer and the paralyzing thing AND she knew how to get rid of Kaito and put him on the roof intentionally. what the hell, Miu, Kokichi is obnoxious and said some terrible things to you, but that doesn’t mean you should kill him in VR.

and yep, it sure does look that way. the hammer gets brought up, since the toilet paper is pretty sure to be the murder weapon, and they ask why she had it.

apparently Miu was the one that asked Kokichi to meet her, so yeah, she was definitely going to try to kill him. and the poison was put in his seat so it wouldn’t be obvious what happened. Miu logged in two minutes after everyone else, so she had plenty of time to do it.

a mini debate about ~trusting friends~ happens again. once that’s done, everyone wants to hear from Kokichi, since he was supposed to meet with Miu and she ended up dead.

makes sense!

Shuichi stops everyone from arguing about how suspicious Kokichi is so that actual facts can be focused on. he wants to figure out the mysteries surrounding Miu’s death before they move on.

like, for example, how she got to the roof. she definitely was over there--Tsugumi saw her through the window of the dining hall. she got through via her secret wall.

aaa, Kaito interrupted Shuichi’s explanation about the wall and it startled me. why, Kaito.

...he did interrupt. i don’t think he’s just holding Shuichi back or anything, though. he is legitimately trying to help and his support helps Shuichi.

wow! why. she’s already dead! you don’t need to do that!

him saying that does get some hints from the bears, though, so...

again:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

he’s helpful in his own way when he feels like it, i guess. he’s just trying to have a good time.

speaking of that, the group has figured out that the sign must have passed through the wall, but they’re not sure how it got to the other side of the map.

and he does help Shuichi, because he says that it’s the virtual world, so normal common sense doesn’t apply.

world loops! \o/

yaaay, i actually know exactly everything i need to in this trial so far without having any trouble at all \o/

after the intermission, they try to figure out how the culprit got Miu’s body to the chapel if she’d been killed on the roof.

(also, something random i was wondering about that i finally got to find out by paying attention and listening: Gonta and Kiibo seem to be the only two people Kokichi doesn’t refer to as “last name-chan”--he just uses their first(/only) names.)

Kokichi, giving Shuichi the roof slope and everything else as a hint... that’s making it too obvious, geez. he should be able to figure that out without any hints!

why does Shuichi remember the lattice being in the storage room now when he didn’t remember it before... what the heck.

oh, Monokuma hates Sonic the Hedgehog. o:

maybe?

~exposing Kokichi’s lie~

the one about him not going to the roof at all. he said that, but then he described the roof in a good amount of detail, so it’s bothering Shuichi.

she didn’t say anything about the roof...

:o aggressive Shuichi, huh.

wait, does getting aggressive mean lying back at him? i suck that that, Shuichi! i don’t know what you want me to lie about! uhhh... um. he could... pretend like he went into the salon and didn’t see Kokichi in there...?

oh! it worked on my first try! \o/

obviously everyone’s going to believe Shuichi over Kokichi. bu~t, Tsugumi would’ve seen Shuichi pass by if he’d actually gone to the salon, and she never noticed him.

he tried so hard... oh, never mind, she still believes him even though it makes no sense.

Shuichi could absolutely get away with murder at this point if that was something he actually wanted to do.

haha. what happened to being his ~partner~?

Kokichi figured out what Miu was planning and decided to work with Monokuma to make his own plan, is essentially what he confesses.

that’s not much of a revenge, though--

o:

Gonta has no idea what he’s talking about. also, no one believes Kokichi. they still think he did it.

it’s true, there is. if Kokichi was touched by Miu he wouldn’t have been able to move, so there’s no way he could have killed her.

wah

chibi strangulation...

everyone still wants to say it’s Kokichi because they can’t believe Gonta is even capable of killing someone, but Shuichi thinks that something’s off. he knows how important it is to believe in people, but something just isn’t adding up for him right now.

aw, Gonta. :( but... i mean, Shuichi’s 100% right, they can’t just believe in Gonta and not pursue this. Kaito can get as upset about it as he wants, he’s the one that befriended a detective that promised to never turn away from the truth.

i didn’t get lost while picking the topics this time! \o/ this trial has been going pretty well for me; i don’t know if it’s because i’m more awake right now or if i’m just more used to the minigames...

anyway, everyone starts yelling because Kokichi yells at Gonta to say more than “i don’t know”, which is pretty much the only thing he’s been saying. Shuichi realizes that Gonta has been confused about things ever since they logged out.

and Gonta lost his memory because of it somehow. possibly because he put the cords in wrong.

wow, being a lefty really screwed him over there, didn’t it.

haha. that’s been Shuichi’s reaction to so much of what Kokichi’s been doing... that or just going “え?”

and honestly, by process of elimination, it is obvious who committed the crime. Kokichi and Gonta were the only two that weren’t accounted for, and Kokichi physically couldn’t have killed her.

i’ve got to be honest, i don’t want Gonta to die here, but i can’t help but be impressed by the amount of work Kokichi put into this and everything he’s getting from it.

he got to work with Shuichi like he wanted, he got revenge on Miu for trying to kill him, he drove a wedge between Kaito and Shuichi solely by using the truth against them, he got to plan a murder without getting punished for it, and he got to have fun with the trial while knowing all of the twists.

Kaito still refuses to accept it, saying that Gonta was outside the mansion when Tsugumi and Shuichi came outside, so he couldn’t have done it. but that’s not true, because he could have used the toilet paper to climb down from the roof.

he’s said it like 500 times, he’s there to face the truth. face the truth. you know, like he did when he essentially sentenced Kaede to death even though he probably really would’ve preferred to let her live somehow, because he knew how important facing the truth was to her and he basically promised to continue doing that so he (and everyone else) can get out of here.

it’s not about sides!

that alien...

anyway, apparently Kokichi came up with the plan of using the toilet paper to exit the roof. he told Gonta to put it back in the bathroom, but since Gonta ran into Shuichi and Tsumugi, he ended up tossing it instead.

Kokichi tries to get Gonta to confess, but Shuichi stops him. he says if anyone’s getting Gonta to confess, it’s going to be him.

he’s much gentler about it than Kokichi has been, that’s for sure. what a sweetheart.

Kokichi looks like an evil knockoff Precious Moments doll in that last panel...

the little chibi people are cute...

i’m guessing that Kaito is the one that voted for Kokichi there.

...the people that died in this chapter were the last two i hadn’t spent any time with... oops.

:O

Monokuma just made that...

anyway, Kokichi saw the outside world due to the card key. he asked Monokuma to reuse the outside world in the virtual world and then showed it to Gonta, which made Gonta even more confused about what he could do to help everyone (which he’s been worried about for a while now).

hm.

he won’t explain more than that, though. he just honestly thought he’d be helping them.

oh hey, Gonta noticed Miu go through the wall and that’s why she ended up being slid off the roof.

hmm.

hmmm.

honey, if you really didn’t want him to go, you wouldn’t have messed up during the trial.

what the hell did i just watch

anyway, people are upset and crying now. Maki tells Kokichi to tell them the secret of the outside world, now, so they can understand.

Kokichi doesn’t want to tell them anything.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Kaito gets more pissed off the more Kokichi talks until he’s had enough and goes to punch him again like he did before. but...

Kokichi noticed that Kaito seems to be slower than before, too.

how is her hair doing that

anyway, everyone starts to ignore Kokichi in favor of helping Kaito.

oh, wow. that’s cold, Shuichi, you have his underwear in your inventory.

(i know that doesn’t change anything in the game, but it is kind of funny...)

Kokichi doesn’t seem too bothered by Shuichi saying that. he pretty much just says he’s bored and leaves after saying he’ll be the one to win this game.

after that, everyone’s 100% focused on Kaito, who doesn’t seem to be doing well at all.

that’s a lot of blood!

lmao “my cold just got worse” what kind of terrible lie is that even

he says he just needs something to drink and to rest in his room. Shuichi offers to help him, but Kaito doesn’t want his help.

oooh, did he go back to using Shuichi’s last name? did that trial actually do permanent damage to their friendship? :o i figured it’d cause problems, but i wasn’t sure if Kaito would actually hold a grudge like this.

seriously, how do you do that with your face

oh, his name is on there! i was wondering. that’s part of the reason i figured i’d be able to realize what it was if i saw it in Japanese, because if any part of “Ouma” was on there i’d at least know it had something to do with him.

...the reason why i started wondering about it is because i was going to make a stupid joke about grandmas in one of the earlier posts, since “Oma” is the German word for “Grandma”, and then i remembered that’s actually how they spell Kokichi’s last name here. >_>

that’s it for this chapter! idk what’s up with Kokichi, but i guess i’ll find out eventually. :U  i need to go to sleep now because it’s almost noon. those trials always take longer than i think they do...

(next chapter!)

[sunken-standard]

Drabble Meme Prompt Fill

Requested by @saffysmom: Hello!  Can I please request 104 from round three?  Thank you😍!

"Remember that really embarrassing memory you told me to never speak of again?"

"Did you get one of these?" Molly asked, holding up the invitation.

"No, as you can clearly see on the envelope it's addressed to the both of us. Apparently they think I live here now."

"Yeah, how would anyone get that idea?" Molly asked, glancing at the dressing gown thrown over her chair, the lists and crime scene photos stuck to her fridge, the four pairs of size-Yeti shoes by her door and Sherlock himself (in a t-shirt so ratty it must have followed him from university) leaned against her breakfast bar while he drank orange juice straight from the carton.

Granted his family—Cousin Kath in this case, oh lovely—didn't know about all that, but still. Well, Mycroft did, but he hardly counted.

"It's a christening. She was definitely not pregnant the last time we saw her. Or seeing anyone," Molly said, thinking back to three months ago, when there'd been that anniversary party. Disturbing, that she not only knew names, but also remembered things about each of them, now.

"Oh how joyous, celebrating the unwitting indoctrination of a helpless infant into shared delusion. And of course she wasn't pregnant, she probably expelled her own uterus in one of her more violent bulimic episodes whilst trying to get a Vogue cover back in the 90s."

"She was a model? You know, I kind of thought she looked familiar, but I assumed it was just the family resemblance."

"Frankly, that's insulting. And she thought she was a model, but mostly she just went to parties and slept with photographers. I'm sure she flew to the flavour-of-the-month in the third world and brought the baby back on her broomstick."

"You really love alliteration, don't you?"

"Conversations would be much more interesting if they all rolled trippingly off the tongue."

"So are we going in with a plan this time, or are you going to wing it?"

"I never wing it."

She looked at him.

"Why, did you have something in mind?" he asked.

*

"Acting normal. That's your plan," Sherlock deadpanned into the mirror, tying his tie like he was on the gallows being forced to tie his own noose.

"Think about how unsettled they'll be. They'll spend the whole time waiting and wondering and the longer it goes on, the sense of impending doom will just keep getting bigger. Then we'll just leave and they'll wonder what the hell happened."

"Remember that really embarrassing memory you told me to never speak of again?"

"Going to have to be more specific on that one," Molly said, edging him out of the way so she could check her dress. The pattern of the fabric mostly hid the lines of her pants, but she wondered if she should go with a different pair instead. Or go the Kate Middleton route and go without entirely.

"The thing at the anniversary party, against the door."

"Oh."

"I would do that again right now because you're an evil, brilliant woman."

She tried not to look startled; Sherlock hadn't ever said anything like that before or even alluded to actually having actual sex. Which she wouldn't be opposed to, per se, but it still caught her off guard.

"So you'd whine your way through all forty-five seconds of a blowjob while one of your aunts bangs on the door yelling about her diverticulitis."

"That's not what happened!" Sherlock said, making a face like a sad Ludo minus the horns.

"That's exactly what happened and that's why we never speak of it."

"I take it back, then, you're not evil, you're just mean," he sniffed, pulling the knot on his tie tight.

"Still brilliant, though."

He shrugged one shoulder and pursed his lips while rolling his eyes, yes, fine.

*

"Maybe don't smile," Molly said as they walked up the flagstone path of the church.

"You said act normal. Normal people smile."

"Yeah, but you look like you're about to steal all the presents in Whoville when you smile, so just... don't."

Sherlock let his face go slack.

"Try not to look like you've just had a root canal, either."

He rolled his eyes.

"Or your brother."

"I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now."

*

"Well, you didn't burst into flames when you walked through the doors, so I think we're ahead so far," Molly said, shuffling into a pew near the middle of the small chapel.

Mycroft dropped down from the ceiling like a spider to land next to her on the pew. Really, he just pushed past a grimacing (was he grimacing or was it just the dentures? there wasn't one single Holmes with a face that made any kind of logical sense) Uncle Somebody to take a seat next to her, probably thinking he'd use her as a human shield if Sherlock decided on dynamite vest for the occasion.

"So what do we have to look forward to today, brother dear? Whoopie cushions on the pews? Tripwires in the aisle? Red dye in the font water?"

"Bugger, wish I'd thought of that," Sherlock muttered to her before leaning around her to address Mycroft. Molly patted him on the knee in a 'there, there, dear' gesture. "I'm not doing anything. I'm going to sit through the dull little ceremony quiet as a churchmouse, make bland, lukewarm conversation over our equally bland, lukewarm meal, and then we're going to make a very normal exit with handshakes and cheek kisses all around at the socially appropriate time."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes, then looked to Molly. "And you're just going to go along with this."

"It was her idea," Sherlock said, smiling as he put his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Mm, yes, quite," Mycroft said, appraising. "And she's still sober. Neither of you will last an hour."

"Was that just you proposing a wager, big brother?" Sherlock asked cheerily.

This is going to end bloody and sad, Molly thought.

"The stakes?"

"Oh, one of your 'favours' I should expect, legwork, anywhere in the world this time. South Pacific, South America, South Pole, wherever. Even the moon. You won't be winning anyway."

"And if, by some miracle, you win?"

"No more CCTV surveillance and you stop tracking my phone."

"And his weight in Belgian Chocolate," Molly added. It was a longshot, but her Gran always told her to dream big.

Mycroft and Sherlock gave her twin looks of "really?"

Molly shrugged.

*

Everyone was on the edge of their seat as the vicar took the baby and held her over the font; not because anything about the very ordinary, textbook-standard ceremony was that engaging, but because he looked to be a centenarian at the youngest and had hand tremors so pronounced they could stick him in the corner of a hardware store to replace the paint shaker.

Sherlock leaned into Molly. "That baby is going in the water," he said.

"Shh," she said, turning her head. His face was right there next to hers and there was a weird little moment before they both turned back just in time to see the vicar drop the baby into the font.

There was a collective gasp from the entire extended Holmes family. She looked to Sherlock; he had his lips pressed so tightly together the area around his mouth was white while the rest of his face flushed with the effort to hold in what would undoubtedly be a bray of laughter.

She looked at her watch. Fifty-six minutes to go.

*

"Oh my God, it's a macaron croquembouche," Molly said when they walked into the reception hall.

"Technically I think it's just a macaron tower, croquembouche is specifically choux pastry and spun sugar."

"I don't care what it is, I'm going to eat at least a third of that."

"No, you're going to eat four at the most, and take lady bites instead of unhinging your jaw and swallowing things whole like a snake eating an egg. We have a bet to win," Sherlock said, his hand on her lower back as he guided her to her chair. Which he then pulled out for her. And then pushed in when she sat down.

It was her plan, but it was still unsettling. Sherlock, being Mr. Grace and Charm. She shivered with the chill that ran down her spine.

"Are you cold? I told you you should've dressed warmer," Sherlock said, taking her hands in his to warm them.

Beyond bizarre.

*

She looked longingly at Mycroft's plate, piled high with macarons and handmade marshmallows and chocolate truffles.

"I say, they're setting up the build-your-own sundae station. Have you ever had a fresh waffle cone straight from the iron, Ms. Hooper? Simply amazing," Mycroft smiled, his lips coated in powdered sugar.

Molly scowled at him and worked a grape off her fruit skewer. If she ate her way through it fast enough, she could use it to poke out his eye. "You better eat a lot, I want you one stone heavier for the weigh-in," she said to Sherlock, who was nodding along to something Cousin Will was bleating about tariffs and Scientology and why Britain needed a space program. She didn't feel sorry for him at all.

"Don't count your chocolate eggs before they hatch, dearest," he said through gritted teeth. "I may yet commit a very brutal act of murder before the hour is up."

"Good, do it before all the desserts are gone and they stop serving champagne."

*

"Three minutes, you can do this. Eyes on the prize," Molly said in her tough-as-nails coach voice, her forehead leaned against Sherlock's and her hand grasping the back of his neck.

"Right, yes. Yes. Three minutes," Sherlock said before straightening and tugging his jacket to resettle it. He plastered on a smile as Cousin Kath glided to their table with the baby.

*

"—And I named her Estonia because I wanted her to be connected to her heritage as she grows up. I love the former Soviet countries, you just pull out a stack of Euros and you can get anything."

"Actually Estonia has one of the fastest growing econ—" Sherlock began, until Molly cut him off with a fork to the thigh. This one wasn't plastic.

"Thirty seconds," she said under her breath. "Oh, she's simply darling! And heritage is so important," she gushed.

Molly thought Kath narrowed her eyes just the slightest bit. Hard to tell with the combination of Botox and Holmes DNA, though. "Yes, and your people are... Irish? You are rather... plucky."

"She is, isn't she? I do so love a spirited woman," Sherlock said, snaking an arm around her shoulders and clamping his fingers over her upper arm, effectively trapping her in her seat. "Oh, look at the time, dear, we really should be going, lots of normal people things to do yet today like washing the car and pruning the rose bushes and walking... dogs... I don't really care. Molly, get your coat."

*

"Don't run, we can't run or it counts as losing!"

"Race-walk, then, stumpy!"

"I would show you just how plucky I can be if I wasn't this close to 175 pounds of Belgian chocolate right now," Molly said as Sherlock dragged her along.

"I'm sure you will after you get a fifth of whiskey into you. And it's 173, I weighed myself this morning."

"So your vanity is worth more than two extra pounds of chocolate?"

"I'm not vain."

She let that one go; they were still in earshot of the reception.

*

"Why do you have so many flowers?" Sherlock asked when he walked in. "And why is there so much fruit on your breakfast bar?"

"So, funny story, apparently everyone in your family thinks you're dying." She held up a stack of Get Well Soon cards all addressed to Sherlock.

"Why?"

"The normal thing worked. Two of your cousins sent business cards for neurologists and Aunt Wilfred sent a printout of an article about early-onset dementia research that she found 'on the Google.'"

"What's in the crate?"

"The chocolate, I think. I was waiting until you got home to open it, just in case it was actually a bomb or a cursed mummy or something."

"I am feeling a bit peckish, actually. Hammer."

She handed him the hammer sitting on the worktop and watched as Sherlock inspected the crate before prying off the front panel, which caused the other three sides to fall away dramatically. Good thing it was in a clear spot of the lounge.

"Wow," she said.

Sherlock was actually speechless as he stared at the life-size Belgian chocolate version of himself. Then, "Why am I wearing a bow tie? I never wear bow ties."

"Bow ties are cool," Molly said, coming closer to peer at the truly uncanny likeness of Sherlock. "Really seems like a shame to eat it, it's so pretty."

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Just admiring the workmanship," Molly said, putting on an innocent face.

Sherlock looked at her like he couldn't decide if she was joking, then leaned into himself and bit off a section of his own ear.

"Should have known you were one of those kids," she said, hoping he didn't damage the face any more. She wanted a selfie. And maybe she'd snog it a bit, because who wouldn't? Even if it was kind of weird. Oh God, Sherlock was looking at her again. She really hoped she hadn't said any of that out loud.

"I could hardly start feet first, now could I? Besides, only savages eat an Easter Bunny like that. Ears taste the best."

He had a point. Molly shrugged and stepped in closer to the chocolate statue, pushing up on her toes and using her fingertips on its chest to balance as she bit off her own piece of ear.

Sherlock made a strangled little noise behind her.

"I really don't know if I want to make a joke about cannibalism or being a man-eater first," she said after taking the hunk of chocolate out of her mouth. She turned to face him. He was giving her the oddest look.

"You feeling alright? You look a bit pale. It's not actually poison chocolate, is it?"

He paused for a second as though he were thinking, his mouth part-way open. "No. Not poison," he said simply.

"Here, have some more ear, it'll make you feel better," she said, holding out her chunk of earlobe.

*

(yeah, it was a real thing: http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/article/32158043/chocolate-model-made-of-benedict-cumberbatch-for-easter)

[klondork]

I’m fucking freaking out

I just had a dream about an old show that I cannot remember the name of. I know it existed but I can't remember the name of it. The dream was about me (at first) and it was in the form of one of these shows.

It was this old interactive kids show (I think it was a kids show) where you had to solve a mystery and answer the questions on the screen. If you got it wrong, the vhs would tell you to go to a certain part of the movie to see what ending you got. Getting too many questions wrong would result in a bad ending.

But basically what happened in my dream was I was on campus coming back from class where this huge campus wide frat party was going on. Everyone was getting drunk, having sex, etc and I was drunk too though I don’t remember taking anything but I just wanted to go to bed. I tried to sleep past the noise but I couldn’t so i left my room and went downstairs to the lobby where I found a gun with shells and a note saying “THIS IS PART OF THE MYSTERY” I called for help saying there was a gun and some keys next to it. The staff and police came to confiscate it after learning someone had died during that party last night. I pointed out that it was weird that whoever used the murder weapon used these keys to get around since the only kids students got were keycards. The murderer was among the staff. The keys were for the elevator and I somehow concluded that the murderer must have come up from the gym area to murder someone during the party.

After that me and my cousin went to look for more clues and our roles slowly changed. I became this old 1800s style woman (Who’s name was probably Mary or Dorothy or some shit) and he was my dabber assistant who was basically Leonardo Dicaprio. I had to answer some hypothethical questions like “Who would most likely have motive to kill and why” and I had three of them. I passed one and failed the last one. We found our next clue that told us that we had to visit locations to find the next clues. One was a chapel, the other two we didn’t find in time but my cousin still concluded that the murderer would strike the theatre next. We raced to the theatre down these giant stairs and we were flying to get to the scene. He was faster than me and a crowd watching was booing me pelting me with garbage for losing the race. He then told everyone to duck as he found out there was a bomb that was going off on the stage and no one was injured. The murderer was apprehended but I had a feeling that I was missing the bigger picture because of the questions I missed.

I’m freaking out because I KNOW there was a show like this. The setting, how the answers came up, it’s something I saw before.

[squaredancing-weston]

para || Westrose: A Bitter-suite Reunion, 1/14/2017

Tagging: @wmhs-marleyrose and @squaredancing-weston

Time: Saturday night, 14 January 2017

Setting: Embassy Suites, Columbus, OH

Summary: Marley is meeting her friend for an Engagement Party.  Brody is supervising the FFA Conference for his students.  They both end up at a hotel in Columbus, and a lot of tension builds until combusting.

Part 2

‘Yeah, completely different. I kind of like it. It’s a nice pace, you know?” Even if she has gotten use to the slow pace in Lima, it was nice being in a more ‘city like’ location, even though Columbus wasn’t that big, but it had more things to do. “Oh I can’t imagine.” She admitted, being in Lima that long. “No, not really a theme. She wants us to go to Vegas for her bachelorette party, so I have to save up for that… it isn’t for a few months at least.” Which she was happy about. “I am, it’s nice getting away and spending time with friends..” Considering how stressful things have been recently. “Yeah, I am sure you would..” Was he meaning to have this come off as dirty, because it did. She raised an eyebrow at his next comment. “Nice to talk about?” She asked slowly, but pressed her lips together. “I think Batsky would have murdered Bing. She is a great dog, but she is so apprehensive towards other dogs.. I mean i am sure she will be fine eventually, I just rather monitor her before I unleash her on Bing.” She was kind of relieved by the change of subject. Wrinkling her nose as he described the subject, Marley blew out some air. “I am on the edge of my seat already!” She exclaimed, she knew she said the wrong thing though, and groaned, because she said the wrong thing. Running her hand through her hair, she nodded. “Yeah, it is.” She agreed, biting down on her lips. “My comment doesn’t make it awkward, Brody.. I was just saying..”

“It’s a good change, i think.”  He chuckled, “Nah, you never can until it happens,” he agreed.  He’d never really considered it himself until he was already here this long.  “Oh, yeah, A girl’s night on the Strip can definitely add up,” he agreed.  Brody had never stayed on the Strip himself, but he’d been to Vegas enough times to notice the prices added up fast.  “At least it’ll be good weather when you go, though.  And you’ll have time to save.”  He nodded in agreement.  “Yeah, sometimes you just need to get away from everything and take a break.”  Marley eyeballed him, and Brody felt a little chagrined about having made the joke in the first place.  Probably too soon to joke about kids’ libidos, he guessed.  “Uh, yeah. You know, nice, with like cloth napkins.  So you can talk about girl...wedding...stuff.  Far away from teenagers?”  Cloth napkins maybe sounded awkward, but it was the only defining difference between downstairs and a real restaurant he could think of offhand.  He smirked at the thought of Batsky, and shrugged, “Good point-- your kid is kind of a princess.”  Brody laughed with her.  “It really is that exciting,” he agreed jokingly-- not that he actually didn’t find the seminars interesting, but he imagining Marley sitting through one was amusing, to say the least.  He nodded politely, and then looked up in surprise at Marley’s statement.  “What?  No, I never said it did,” he protested, shaking his head with an incredulous puff of air.  “I’m glad we’re talking again.  As friends.” 

“I agree. A change is always nice.” Marley giggled. “It doesn’t feel that long, does it?” She knew he came here quite a while ago, so she wondered what it felt like to him. “Yeah completely. I don’t really gamble, so I shouldn’t have a problem there, I just need money for the flight and everything.” With her luck, this will turn into something out of bridesmaids, but she’ll remain optimistic for now. “Yeah, that is what I heard.” She grinned at his little joke. She couldn’t believe he was joking about kids having sex, but at that age, it happened. “Yeah I am sure.. I mean cloth napkins aren’t my things, but I can agree to it.” She had a feeling brunch was off property at least. “She really is. I don’t know what to do to do with her at times.” But she loved her dog. Still, his seminars seemed pretty boring, but he knew more about it than her. “I just felt.” She shrugged, because things were awkward all around. “Yeah.. same.”

“Yeah, it is.”  A change meant a fresh start, right?  Even though they were talking about geography, Brody couldn’t help but transpose the idea onto their relationship.  He wanted to be around Marley without it being weird; but he was still having trouble finding the right balance.  If she would just date Sebastian, he felt like he could find his place, but both of them seemed to be ridiculously stubborn on that count, so he was left out in Purgatory.  His eyes traveled upwards in thought, bobbing his head back and forth in mock consideration, “Seven years?” he reminded her, shrugging his shoulders for good measure, although an amused smile was breaking through as well.  “It feels like a lifetime sometimes, to be honest.  Like where I was and where I am are two different mes entirely.”  That was probably more truth than he’d ever told Marley about his past, even though it was a flippant comment in and of itself.  But he’d spent a long time trying to be better than he was before he got to Lima, and while he was stumbling currently, he still was hopeful for himself.  “Well, I mean, if it’s a bachelorette party, are you sure you’re going to be spending a lot of time gambling?” he asked with a suggestive smirk.  “I mean, most people head to Vegas for those kind of things for, you know…”  He tugged at his button up to imply strippers without actually saying it.  “And, obviously alcohol, which usually leads to more frivolous spending,” he added.  Brody eyed Marley a little skeptically.  “No?  You’d normally turn down a fancy brunch for a breakfast buffet with a hundred high schoolers?” he asked with a crooked smile.  “Or are you just literally put off by the idea of napkins that literally don’t feel like they do anything for any sort of mess you make?”  He never really liked linens, himself.  They sort of shielded your clothes from crumbs, but if you spilled anything liquid, good damn luck mopping it up with whatever the hell type of fabric those things were made of.  “Eh, you’ll spoil her rotten and never change houses or get another dog until she goes to live on a farm,” he told her with a laugh.  He nodded-- he wanted things to not be weird, to not worry that Marley was still holding on.  And they were doing fine, right?  “Hey, you know,” he said, gesturing sideways with his hand.  “I was actually going to grab a bucket of ice before bed.  You want to walk?”  Words were difficult, but maybe if they were focused on doing something, it would be easier.  I mean, they could go get a bucket of ice together easy enough, right?  Kind of get past that awkward standing phase, at least.

  She smiled, glancing over at a group of people talking among herself. Things were still weird between them, but not as weird as it was with Sebastian.. Until they fixed it. Marley truly hoped she and her friend didn't do this again, and she and Brody could get past this. “Seven years? Wow. That is a long time.” She  said. So couldn't image being here for that long. “Yeah? I mean seven years change everything.” She agreed, wondering if he meant more. In all honesty, she didn't know much about him. At times, Brody seemed like such a mystery to her. “That's true. Knowing Emily, it will be strippers and booze.” She grinned at that thought. Not really her thing, but it would be fun. “I think I'd take my fancy napkins over high school students, thank you very much.” She retorted, Grinning at him. “She isn't spoiled. She is just loved.. I should get another dog though. Give her a friend or something.” She cocked her head to the side. “Oh. Sure. I'll come with you.” She moved towards him, so they could go to the ice machine. “I love hotel ice machines..” Smooth, Marley. Real smooth

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a while to be in one place,” Brody agreed.  “But the seniority thing is good.  I don’t get pink slipped anymore.  It’s okay.”  He chuckled.  “Wow, thanks Marley; I don’t feel even older now,” he joked.  He admitted it sounded like a lot out loud, but it wasn’t like Marley didn’t know he was thirty, right?  “It can, though, yeah.”  Her description of her friend fit exactly Brody’s image of someone who would spend their bachelor party in Vegas.  “Well, it is her night,” he reminded Marley.  “Better make the most of it.  Go see those Australian guys.  Try to keep away from any Elvis chapels.”  He wasn’t even sure Marley was into the whole stripper-scene, but they had talked about it once or twice, so it was definitely possible.  The younger teacher’s response made him smile, and he shrugged, “Your choice,” he conceded, shaking his head.  “Yes, loved so much that she won’t share anything.  A-plus child-rearing.  She can’t manage hanging out with Bing, and you want to try to get her a friend?” he repeated incredulously, laughing.  Luckily, Brody’s room was close, so he slipped inside a grabbed his bucket before they began sauntering down the hall toward the machine.  So far so good… He couldn’t help but bark out a surprised laugh.  “Really?” he replied.  Out of all the things she could enthuse about in the hotel, she was gushing about ice machines?  Were they really this bad?  “I don’t know if I’ve ever really noticed anything distinguishing about them myself, but I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever thought about it.  What, do you like cover the room and go sledding?” he asked with a smirk.

It really is.. I don't think I've been in one place that long.” Hell she wasn't even sure if she wanted to be in Lima that long. “Eh. That's true. I wish they didn't do that.” Wrinkling her nose, she sighed. “Hey. You're the one that class yourself an old Fogey.” She reminded him. That was all on him. “Oh yeah. I'm just going to be there for the ride.” Marley agreed. “Ohhhh Australian guys, and don't get married, right.” While that wasn't exactly her scene she planned on having fun. “Batsky isn't that bad. She just isn't use to Bing, that's all. I'm sure if I got another pet, she'd have to adjust. They headed to his room, and he grabbed his bucket. They headed down the hall, and Marley nodded. “It seemed fancy I guess. Is that weird?” Glancing up at him, she wrinkled her nose. Of all topics this is what she talked about. Ugh. Still, her lip twitched, and she nodded. “Of course. It's the only thing to do.”

Brody quirked an eyebrow at her, “Never?”  Although, now that he thought about it, if the longest she’d ever stayed anywhere was for school, that would still only have her staying put for maybe four years.  And seven years was a little less than a third of Marley’s life to begin with.  “Well, if the school’s filled up with whipper snappers that don’t intend on staying very long, there’s got to be some reward for us old fogies for putting up with them, right?”  He laughed as she repeated his words back to him.  “Maybe, but I don’t put actual years on it,” the older man argued.  “Well, this will give you a better idea of how to navigate the next one, right?  Exactly, hot, beefy, mostly naked guys with sexy accents and avoiding jewelry or binding contracts.”    Brody shot her an amused look. “I don’t know-- I seem to remember someone saying pretty adamantly that their dog was a little diva that did what she wanted and expected people to bow in her presence, among other things,” he reminded her, thinking of the Spaghetti Fundraiser-- and trying not to think of any of the not-explicitly friendly moments that happened that day.  “But sure-- maybe it’d be good to have a friend to boss around.  Like a sibling.”  Yeah, thinking about an ice machine as fancy felt weird, but Brody thought maybe Marley was trying to make things less weird between them too, so he went with it.  “I mean-- it’s nice that they have one on every floor,” he offered.  “And that it’s kind of eternal.  I mean, I’ve never come across an empty ice machine.”  He grinned and nodded.  “Of course-- I mean, you have to rip down the shower curtain first.  Set up a barrier so it doesn’t just melt into the carpet and lose all the slippery.  But yeah: go steal a trash can lid and go crazy, right?”

No. I moved around a lot growing up. I guess the longest I've been at a school was two? Three years?” She asked more to herself, because she couldn't remember how long it was. “Hey! I never said I wasn't staying. Seven years seems like a long time though..” She admitted. In many ways it was. She wondered what young Brody was like when he first arrived. “Maybe not.” She grinned in bed at his suggestion. Hot Aussie guys? Yes please. “Or I can convince her to see them.” She offered. She could do that, right? “Oh hush. She is a diva. She'll get use to it eventually.” Blushing slightly, she was surprised he remembered. Sometimes Brody took her by surprise. “I was young, okay? When you're small, the most mundane things can seem fancy!” Still, she laughed at his description, imaging it in her head. “You're such a dork.” She nudged him, and grinned. “You know that, right?” She asked. “I'm sure you could though..”

Brody arched an eyebrow.  “What about college?” he asked curiously.  He would have thought she stayed in one place at least through that, though it still wouldn’t even be close to seven years.  “Did I say you weren’t?  I just said dad gurn whippersnappers.”  He stuck his tongue out at her.  “Seven years, out of your whole career, seems like a long time,” he echoed.  “Hell, my mom’s still teaching in the same place as she was when she was around my age, which puts her in one place, what?  Twenty-five years?”  Brody shook his head.   “That’s a long time, right there.”  He laughed.  “Well, I mean, I’m assuming that’s the Maid of Honor’s job, isn’t it?  Setting the itinerary?”  He remembered Mark’s Best Man organizing all of the Bachelor Party plans, mostly because he was too young to go with them.  “But sure, I mean, who turns the idea down, right?”  He laughed again at her scolding.  “Hey, it’s your dog, so I’m just really here to provide colorful commentary.”  Brody eyed her in amusement.  “When was the last time you stayed in a hotel, Marley?” he asked a little incredulously, wondering how long ago it must have been if she still thought ice machines were fancy.  He shrugged his shoulders as they reached the room, grinning, “A little, but I”m fun,” he replied, sticking the bucket under the opening.  “Maybe.  I mean, I’m more of the creative idea guy-- I feel like if you were actually going to try it, you’d want to recruit someone to distract the maids and steal an empty room, keep out of trouble, you know?  Someone like--” He cut himself off as he realized where his train of thought was headed.  He had obviously let himself talk too long, let himself get too caught up in his own playful banter, that he was considering bringing Sebastian back into a conversation he had no interest in talking about him in.  Marley knew everything he had to say about Bas, and she was being stubborn, so really, there was nothing left to say if they wanted to keep this rocky foray into friendship steady.  “Someone with a bit more crazy to them, I guess,” he finished instead.  “Which I know, surprising considering who you’re comparing it to, but people like that do exist.”

“Hmm.. I guess you’re right. College does count, so I guess that was my longest time..” She mused, because while it was a while, it didn’t seem that long. Giggling at Brody’s comment, Marley nodded. “It does..” When he mentioned his mom, she was a bit surprised, because he has never really spoken much about his family. “Oh wow. She’s been teaching for that long?” Marley asked. She couldn’t imagine being at one place for twenty-five years. “It really is.” She agreed, and Marley nodded. “Yeah, it is, but that would be fun..” She thought so at least. “You make her sound worse than she is.” Marley teased. His comment had her wondering if he mistakened her. Raising an eyebrow, Marley wondered if he misunderstood her. “I mean I stay often, I just meant when I was a kid I thought they were fancy, you know? Not now… I mean it’s an ice machine.” She teased, grinning at the older man, hoping he didn’t think she found it fancy now. That was almost embarrassing. “You are fun.” She agreed, nudging him slightly. When he mentioned needing to recruit someone, she grinned widely, because that would be fun, however when he mentioned someone, and stopped, she bit down on her lip, because she knew who he was going to mention. Someone like Sebastian. Pressing her lips together, she wondered if she should bring it up. Things were going well, however there was also the elephant in the room, and somehow without thinking about it, she giggled. “You mean someone like Bas?” Then she realized what she said, and bit down on her lip. “Or you know.. Just someone, I think that might be a great idea.” She nodded her head. “They do.” She agreed.

“Well, those years fly by,” Brody conceded with a nod, “so I don’t blame you for forgetting them.”  He scoffed a little as Marley agreed with his sarcasm, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her-- seven years at her age was a huge chunk of her life.  Brody had kept planning and replanning his career every time he’d had to change professions: after all, the shelf life of a dancing career was much shorter than that of a rancher, or a teacher after that.  Planning and making lists was just something he did when he was anxious, and every time he changed career paths, or states, well- he got anxious.  She sounded surprised by his mention of his mom, and Brody wondered if he’d never mentioned it before: he would have thought Mrs. Rose would have asked about it during Christmas, but he’d been doing an impressive volley of turning the conversation back on herself and her daughter that night, so he could easily have avoided it.  “Oh yeah, longer-- she didn’t start at Cal, obviously-- but she’s been there for twenty five.  I mean, they practically give her free rein in her department, so she loves it.  She’ll probably keep working until she’s dead,” he told her with a grin.  “And, I mean, it’s a good area, and Dad had a good job, and all of us were already running around by that point.  It just kind of made sense, you know?”  Brody hoped to be like his mom at one point, having that kind of routine for so long.  I mean, Lima hadn’t been his first pick, but he was okay with it by now.  He shrugged, “Well, you could always ask if you can help-- or just wait till they’re drunk and steer them in that direction.”  Brody laughed; although arguably Marley was probably right.  He’d met the dog all but twice, so maybe Marley’s words were just affectionate ribbing that didn’t fit as well coming from a stranger.  Still, “Oh yeah, I’m sure she’ll be a perfect sweetheart while she’s ripping up her new sibling like a chew toy,” he couldn’t help but reply.  Brody’s mouth opened slightly, nodding in understanding.  “Ah, yes, that makes more sense,” he remarked.  “I mean, I don’t know-- maybe being abroad all the time, you’re only used to hostels or something, which have no fancy ice machines,” he laughed.  Her tiny body nudged up against him, and he flashed her a grin.  “I suppose I don’t suck, even if I am old and boring at this point.”  She giggled, and after a quiet pause, dropped the name.  Brody honestly didn’t want to talk about Bas: the asshole had been harping on him for ages, and was being a stubborn, denying pompous peacock...but he also missed him.  He missed the banter, the jokes- the sex, obviously, but that was completely out of the question now that he was so ridiculously in love with Marley, even if he was avoiding it.  But that’s something friends did, right?  They talked about coworkers and friends-- and coworker friends they’d both had sex with.  Sure.  “Yeah, like Sebastian would be okay,” he agreed with a nod.  He chewed on his lip.  “So...he’s been okay?” he couldn’t help but ask, quickly following up, “I mean, dog sitting all by his lonesome.”  He gave an easy smile, trying to keep the conversation casual.