#inkwell incarnate

[writingfromruins]

It was like magic. It was the only magic I had left in me. I had to watch my family eat it, to make sure all the goodness I had poured into it would warm them from the inside out. To make sure I hadn’t made it rotten. There’s ways to nourish people that have nothing to do with food. There’s ways for yourself to starve even when there’s no shortage.

There’s bread.

There’s the way it feels sticky between your fingers as you mix it and the way it feels when you knead it, smooth and soft and elastic, the way yeast smells as it gorges on sweetness. There’s the rises. There’s the way it rises and you have to wait for it. The way it makes you wait for it. Patience is a kind of magic too. It’s one you cannot teach entirely alone: you have to have something to wait for.

It was some of the worst few months of my life. They were also the easiest. For all it claws at you, being terrified is the easiest thing in the world. All you have to do is endure it. All I could do was endure it.

I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want. I didn’t.

I made bread. I waited. Eventually, I rose.

Breadmaker // PD

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Put Up a Sign

I crave. I want. I hunger. My days and nights are filled with the thought of consumption. My empty heart simply needs to take and take and take, like a greedy thief. It is not enough that I feed it affection and attention and accomplishment. It must have more. It must have adoration, idolisation, absolute dominion over all others.

Simply being better than most is worthless. Simply being one of the chosen few is worth mockery. I must crawl up to the top amidst a mountain of the corpses of my rivals. And with each time their bones crunch underfoot, the hunger only grows.

It is not enough to be known, liked, 'popular'. Nor is it sufficient to be infamous, beloved, renowned. I must have armies prostate themselves before me, statues erected in glorious worship, my name scattered across the 7 winds. But the gales merely chill me to the bone, the statues just crumble to dust with time, and the armies go into my maw to feed my empty heart.

And what of power? Can I be satisfied with my little band of merry women and men, my precious clan tucked away in the depths of the forest? Of course not. Would an empire sooth the gurgling cries of a bottomless hunger? Could the world itself fill me up, or would it be but a speck in the endless pit of want?

They say Alexander wept, for he had no more worlds to conquer. I fear I am Alexander incarnate, thirsting after eternal war and an endless reign. I just with to be satisfied, satiated, sated; why must I be born with an empty heart, meant to take and take and take?

Were I a better man, I would carve that offending organ out and let myself wither away. Were I a worse one, I would gorge myself on power, and learn once and for all just how much I can consume. But I am me, and I sit upon a throne of my enemies' corpses, reigning over a little empire, nursing my hunger with little tidbits all the while.

I do not feel repentant. It is not in my nature, after all. Nonetheless, as my people give their harvests, their gold, their lives for me, I cannot help but feel a twinge of guilt.

Perhaps I shall put up a sign: "Please do not feed my empty heart. It will only want more."

This was a silly little writing exercise I did for funsies, but I loved how it turned out so y'all get to see it too!

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[kayssweetdreams]

Maestro Hiccups 3: Chaos Incarnate Ch 50

In an instant, You dash at the pile of toys, and begin rifling through them, trying to see if any of them was a shape shifted Collector hiding among them

You pull out many different constellation themed toys, and many planet and star themed plushes...but non of them look Collector-like. You hear the Collector's voice "You can't find me!" He giggled, while you wildly looked around for him. "I'm gonna find you Collector!" You shout, before your eyes land on a small bunny plush. You notice that the bunny has star shaped buttons for eyes, and a painted face, much like the Collector's.

You give the bunny a little poke, and you hear tye Collector's laugh again "I found you!" You shouted. The bunny in your hands shook before it turned into the childish deity. "You caught me!" He cackled before booping you on the nose "Now it's YOUR turn to hide!" He said. "Alright, Let me just get Leo and Emma really quickly." You tell him. He nods as she snaps his fingers and poofs away.

You rush to run back down the stairs, only to be stopped by a peeved Hilda "Not so fast. You still tresspassed into my home." She sneered. "Sorry! I-I'll make it up, somehow." You say, but Hilda doesn't back down. "No. You're gonna make it up NOW." She grumbles. You try to reason with her, when you see a wave of Balan's chaotic magic enveloping the world outside.

"HIT THE DECK! You shout as the wave crashes into the observatory. You feel the building rumble as Balan's hiccups transformed the building into something it wasn't. When the rumbling finally stopped, you looked around at the damage that had been done. The entire observatory had become like a giant sea temple. The telescope now had turned into a periscope while you can see fish swimming around you.

"WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!" You hear Hilda gurgle. You see that Hilda now had become a small submarine, with her weather vane now a periscope on her head as she began swam through the water. "Erm...Sorry?" You gurgle out, bubbles leaking from your mouth as you did. That was enough to push Hilda over "GET OUT OF HERE!!" She shouted in anger.

You didn't need to be told twice as you rushed out of the building, seeing the entire building was now completely submerged in water. Leo and Emma were seen floating in a nearby crate. "Leo! Emma! C'mon!" You shout. The two of them dove into the water to join you in reaching the exit. The three of you exited the building as you see what Balan's chaotic hiccups had done THIS time.

The entire world looked like it was turned into a strange mix of live action and hand drawn animation. Most of the inhabitants there SEEMED alright, but you could see there were now struggling with their new surroundings. "Oof...Balan's hiccups are making things weirder and weirder." Leo said, as a semi realistic bird came flying above and squwaked very violently at him.

A portal opened up as Your Kaylo, and the Magical Kaylo walked out of it, taking in the chaotic world that surrounded them "Whoa...Well, Inkwell Isle certainly got a makeover..." the magical Kaylo said, looking over the sunken observatory. "Yeah...But on the bright side, We found the Collector. And now it's...erm. Our turn to hide." You say.

"Well you better find a good hiding spot then!" You hear the Collector say as he floated above you, clearly enjoying the Mayhem occurring to the world. "Ready to hide?" You hear him ask. "Uh-" you don't get a chance to answer as he begins to count. "Collector...they don't have magic, so maybe count a little...higher." The Magical Kaylo says. "OK! 1...2...3..." he counts

"Ok, that should by you some time. I'll open a few portals for you to hide in another world, but you'll need to choose 1." She says. "Alright. Hurry!" Leo whsiper-shouts. Whipping out the scissors, Kaylo cuts open 3 different portals, but you have no idea where those portals could POSSIBLY lead, but you need to hide quickly

[iknowthegammer]

cuphead and mugman meets mario: the inspirational story

In a vibrant, animated world, Cuphead and his spirited brother Mugman were enjoying a peaceful day in the Inkwell Isles when an ominous portal unexpectedly materialized. Out of it emerged Eggman, the notorious robotic mastermind, accompanied by the malevolent Sonic.exe, a dark incarnation of Sonic.

Realizing the impending danger, Cuphead and Mugman decided to seek help and journeyed through a warp pipe that transported them to the Mushroom Kingdom. There, they encountered the heroic Italian plumber, Mario, who eagerly agreed to join forces against the unexpected threat.

The unlikely trio, armed with Cuphead and Mugman’s unique shooting abilities and Mario’s jumping prowess, set out to confront Eggman and Sonic.exe. The landscape transformed into a blend of classic platformer levels and surreal Inkwell Isles backdrops as they chased their adversaries through the pixelated dimensions.

Facing challenges that fused elements from both Cuphead’s run-and-gun battles and Mario’s platforming adventures, the team strategically coordinated their attacks. Cuphead’s precision shots, Mugman’s support, and Mario’s iconic power-ups proved to be a formidable combination.

As they closed in on Eggman and Sonic.exe, the villains unleashed a chaotic amalgamation of their powers. Sonic.exe’s corrupted speed and Eggman’s robotic army posed a significant challenge, but Cuphead, Mugman, and Mario stood resilient, showcasing their unique abilities.

In an epic showdown, the trio synchronized their attacks, overcoming the malevolent duo. The defeated Eggman and Sonic.exe were sucked back into the portal, sealing it behind them. Cuphead, Mugman, and Mario exchanged nods of gratitude and bid farewell, each returning to their respective worlds.

As they parted ways, the animated landscapes and Mushroom Kingdom gradually returned to normal. Cuphead and Mugman, forever changed by this unexpected crossover, continued their adventures in the Inkwell Isles, their encounter with Mario serving as a colorful chapter in their pixelated tale.

note: all of this is generated by chatGPT so please don’t forget to follow and use the app chatGPT for ai and more!

[truckreincarnation]

Long Live the King | Chapter 1 | Trial Start

For the last little while, you have been searching for clues as to Francis’ murder. It is a duty that should have never fallen to you. Not a single one of you is trained, and while you do have the minor assistance of a medical professional, Shroud only really told you the cause of death. Figuring out what led up to that is the real challenge. So, for the past two hours or so, you and a group of your fellow Incarnates have been looking around.

But the search comes to an end where to hear the tree rumble to life. “The investigation period is over. Please make your way to the Summoning Circle.”

The Summoning Circle? Are they going to make you do this stupid trial in water up to your ankles? Luckily no. It’s an odd sight, especially for those of you who had been inspecting the Summoning Circle only a few minutes before. Along each of the smaller circles where you first woke, you find a raised desk and chair have been set up. The chairs are tall enough to keep your feet out of the dark and chilly water, and each desk is equipped with a pad of paper, a quill, and an inkwell.

Above the center of the circle floats the illuminating orb from the lounge, cutting through the dark and the fog to illuminate the whole circle of desks. Directly below it, Amber’s puppet body extrudes from the roots, Kali perched on her shoulder.

“Please take your seats. Each one has been labeled accordingly. Please do not leave your seats without permission during the trial,” Amber glumly requests. She seems downtrodden and very uneasy, but is facilitating this trial anyway. 

Arms folded, Kali scowls disapprovingly out at the group of you. “You heard the lady! Move it, and don’t waste your time whining at her!” Seems that Amber’s misery has once again spurred Kali into irascible protectiveness. Though not violence yet, mercifully.

“Please don’t forget,” Amber mutters, just loud enough to be heard. “The majority of you need to correctly identify the killer. Failure to do so, and someone else will have to be executed in their place. Please make your decisions carefully.”

“Also obviously, an attempt at violent escape will mean I have to stop you. I have a job to do and whatnot,” Alvarie grumbles from the front of the area, where she stands with her arms folded. Or is “front” even the right word?

Uneasily, your group files towards your various seats. There’s not much time, and if you fail here, an innocent soul will be taking on the burden of the murderer. Best get it right…

[writingfromruins]

Name: N/A

Date: You’re better off not knowing

1)

[a new answer has been added. It reads “when you realize it has already stopped hurting”]

2)

You stop by digging in your heels until your heels bleed and the earth cracks and you can’t keep going on like this, just please stop, please, please,

3)

“By the time you finish asking me if I’m okay I will have already decided to lie and say I am in an attempt to keep the peace. Please do not ask me more than once a day. I am not that good a liar yet.”

4)

Because you’ve dug your heels into the dirt so deep your legs are partially sunken in the soil. Because sometimes it feels like you don’t deserve it. Because sometimes you feel like moving forward is just an invitation to backslide. Because-because-because you know how to lie to yourself

5)

Personal Tragedy, summertime flavor. You close yourself in a closet and wait for the heat to wrap around you like the warmest not-hug. Like a snake, slowly constricting. Like - the air conditioner is running and you can hear it through the walls. You can hear your insides twist through your body. You can hear your heart beating. Somewhere else in the house a door closes. Someone is talking. There are footsteps on the stairs: your mother’s. You can hear - the heat sinks in and in and in and you start to drown in it. It hurts because it is blissfully not sound.

6)

Because rats in traps gnaw at themselves to get out. You’ve gnawed yourself bare of all the things restricting you and you still can’t move. You’ve bitten off all of your limbs.

7)

This quiz was about - have you ever run the numbers on how long you’ll have to stay awake before you can go back to sleep as soon as you wake up - have you ever written a poem just to make your mouth form the words - have you ever trapped yourself - have you ever thought of one moment in your life that acted as a metaphor for every other moment in your life - have you ever ached from that metaphor - why not? - have you ever realized you’re already aching? Why not? have you ever been afraid of gentleness - have you bruised - have you ever pressed on every bruise until it numbed the pain? are they green or purple or blue under your skin? Is the summer supposed to be blue? Is that still my favorite color? are there even other options? have you ever settled into your skin all wrong - have you ever taken a quiz to write a poem have you ever - this quiz is about - is about - is- your father and my father and a father abstracted  asking “are you okay” and meaning it and it is the summer strangle-hugging my house like some fast growing vine and it is every metaphor i have written in my entire life and - this quiz is about this poem.

No wait

I think I got that last bit backwards

POP QUIZ

DATE:

NAME:

1. When does it stop hurting? You may select multiple answers.

a. Never b. Upon the introduction of a new, more interesting wound c. Never d. Maybe someday e. Never

2. How do I stop? Answer in one full sentence.

3. Using context clues, deduce what I’m supposed to say to my father when he asks me if I’m okay. Use at least two vocabulary words in your answer.

4. Explain in at least three sentences why it is so much easier to give up, no matter how much it hurts you, than to keep going, no matter how many rewards you may reap.

5. Describe a personal tragedy and explain why it hurts. Answer in one paragraph or less.

6. Explain why it hurts. Answer in one paragraph or less.

7. What was this quiz about? Why did you take it? Why did you answer the questions? Why didn’t it make sense to you? Did you think of one event for question 5, or did you have to choose from several? Did you choose the one that hurts the worst or the one that hurts the least? Why? Are you afraid to think about it? The tragedy or the question? Was it hard? Have you practiced answering it before? With whom? How did they react? Were you uncomfortable? If they reacted with kindness, did their kindness ache like a bruise or like a tight grip? If they reacted with cruelty, were you angry or just used to it? Have you learned to adjust? Is it adjustment or numbness? Which would be worse? Are you tired of hurting? Do you want to get better or just give up? Is it in your nature to keep trying or flinch away from the future like a fist? Does the future seem real to you, or like a myth your peers keep repeating? Does it feel more real as you advance into it, or less real? Why do you think that is? Do you still have a favorite color? Did you ever have one? When people asked you what it was, as a child, did you have your answer ready or did it change every time? Were you telling the truth? Were you lying? Could you decide then? Can you decide now? Do you think it will stop hurting someday? Are you willing to wait? When you consider not waiting anymore, does that take the form of ripping your peace from the nebulous future with your bare hands to have it now or simply never having it at all? Do you feel you deserve peace? Why or why not? Has your father asked you if you’re okay lately? If yes, do you feel he meant it? When will he mean it? Answer in one paragraph or less.

[justdragonsandme]

747 for the prompts?

Prompt 747 – “It was a very unusual love letter, but the writer was also a very unusual person when it came to love”

Thank you for asking, I really loved writing this! Hope you enjoy :)

As everything else I write, it was partly inspired by my amazing girlfriend <3

In the semi-darkness of her studio, Ember sat down to write a letter. She had written many like it before, and she knew for a fact she would be writing many more in the course of her long, long life. It was a love letter, though it wasn’t addressed to her lover. In that, it was a very unusual love letter, but the writer was also a very unusual person when it came to love. The phoenix dipped her red, incandescent quill into her inkwell, paused for a second longer, gathering her thoughts, and started writing.

"Dear me,

This is you writing, though a different you than who you are now familiar with. I – you, for a little longer – have come very close to the end of my time. I can feel it in the air – I will soon exhaust my energies, and start to burn. I will burn and burn until there is nothing but ashes left. And from those ashes, you shall be born once more. This has happened many times before, and will happen again after you are gone. Over time, we – me, you and all the past us – have learnt some tricks to make the whole thing a little less inconvenient. I have left extensive notes about my life – you’ll find them on this desk when you awaken, together with all the others from lives past. They will tell you about our magic, our achievements, our discoveries and our studies. They will tell you about our tastes, our habits, and our friends. They will help you get started. They helped me, back then. But I am leaving this letter also, because there is something more you need to know. I need to tell you about our beloved. We have loved her through a hundred lifetimes, through a hundred incarnations, through infinite adventures and for countless moments. That is why I need to tell you, because you need to find her once again. You need to know who she is, and you need to know that there is no happiness like the happiness she brought us – like the happiness she can bring you. There is no beauty that will make your heart stutter like hers, and there is no kiss that you will ever want as much as hers. You will find mention of her in my notes – like ours, the time of her life is immeasurably long, and throughout it all she has been by our side. Unlike ours, though, her long life is not natural, but the result of a curse. You will have to be gentle about that with her. She always will be with you. I don’t know where the path of your life will take you, whether to danger or to peace, but I know that if she can, she will walk it with you. And I know there is no better companion. Because of our nature, you will find yourself an alien at times. You will feel lost, or alone. There will be no better balm for your tears than her embrace then, no better comfort than her presence. Even after all the years I have spent by her side, I still cannot help but to yearn for one more day, one more kiss. I hope you will be able to live them for me. And so I had to tell you. Just know this – your love for each other is immense, and encompassing, and at times it will feel like everything. It is not everything – but you will want it. You will need it. You’ll want to cherish it and nurture it, and it will bring you so much happiness. And you will rejoice – of all the souls in the universe, to have found one so kind.

Find her. Her name is Sephie.

Good luck, dear me. Burn bright.

- Ember

The phoenix put down her quill. She left the letter on top of a neatly packed pile of papers, and went to lie in her bed. She could feel the heat, the burning fever begin to rise already. She closed her eyes and let it burn, a small smile on her face, as she thought of her beloved.

[sagawawho-blog]

⁂ - grab my muse by the front of their shirt, possibly shoving them back

Manhandling Symbol Starters (Status: Accepting!)

There aren’t many things in the world that could get under Sagawa’s skin and truly make him shudder.  Fear has no place in a Yakuza’s arsenal, it’s a page that was torn out of the Yakuza Dictionary®™, leaving an empty space between D for Deadly and M for Muuurder.  Or, so he thought.  

Sagawa is about to be schooled on the true meaning of Fear, and there’s no playing hooky at this school of hard knocks.  His teacher?  The woman who is Rage Incarnate®™™, whose gay bff he was foolish enough to be a real meanie to (he even pulled on the guy’s ponytail because he’s that mean. he also dipped it in the inkwell but no one noticed because his hair is already black).  

Sagawa lets out a high-pitched gasp as he’s seized by the front of his shirt, holding his hands up to shield himself from Makoto’s furious angry-ish fury.  He had been a doo-doo brain to think that he was the hunter in this game of cat and mouse, this game of lethal hide-and-seek, a game of tag where you shoot people instead of touch them with your hand–he was really dumb, yes, indeed.  Now he’s trapped in the vice grip of the true huntress…!

“M–Makimura…  Makoto!”  He pauses, but there’s no lightning flash, because there aren’t any clouds outside.  Gritting his teeth, which are stained yellow from some unknown substance, he hisses out his next words, “I’m not afraid of a widdle girl…!”  That’s a lie.  She’s like, really scary.

[elementalgod-aj]

O’Kong Family

The story of the O’Kong Family

On the Fathers Side . they were a race of special Demons  that were ordered to  wander the earth in search for human souls to  send to there master, The Devil himself . These Earth Demons Were different then his regular imps , no! these demons Did want   to be served as Soul collectors they wanted Freedom . they left  the bellows of Inkwell Hell and went into hiding , outcasts because of the  race they changed there appearance and went into hiding  over the years they wished to  redeem  themselves  by doing good from the world and to earn themselves a place in heaven.

On the mothers side  , they are basically  Archangels  they descended from heaven to  watch over the world  and keep  demons at bay    the only one to  abandon there order is   Mesilla  the mother  of Shreya-Lynn   who feel in love with  a mortal

Anscetors

Silveira :  ( silver ) creator  of the  chaos cats ( @craftyjellyfishcat ))

Graeae  :  ( Gray ) a criminal 

Roza : ( Pink) the incarnation of Love 

Bogoro:  ( Orange )  the warrior 

Taint :   ( Green) a queen 

Ferilo  (blue) A saint 

Ester: (Red) A Leader 

Noah ( Yellow)  A con

Orpah: ( Purple) watchful eyes’ founder , a Priestess

Theodoreus  : the Hotels  founder  < A Honored man

Mathew : the Hero   who protected him family till his finally breath 

These here are there only members of the Family by blood  

Shreya-Lynn the wife of  Mathew  and the Mother  Of  the O’Kong Sibilings

(the ones  covered in shade  except the top left hand corner  are the older siblings  and the 2 on the bottom are the youngest

 Anomy ,Zixi and Pads as well  as the to smaller ones are  the only ones not inside  the sibilings criminal ways 

[leahhuetemaines]

NEW FROM FINISHING LINE PRESS: Breach by Bridget Gage-Dixon

PREORDER NOW: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/breach-by-bridget-gage-dixon/

Bridget Gage-Dixon has had a life-long love affair with poetry that began with rewriting nursery rhymes and fairytales. She progressed to having her poems included in Poet Lore, Inkwell, The Cortland Review, and several other journals. She lives in New Jersey where she teaches and dotes on her grandchildren.

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR Breach by Bridget Gage-Dixon

Harrowing and beautifully written, Breach offers us a life in poems, a series of affecting essences that speak to the often unspeakable. Bridget Gage-Dixon is a relentless truth-seeker whose deft metaphors enhance the sense of how our struggles may teach us—assuming we survive them. Perhaps the truest solace the poet may offer is transformative testimony, language that forges authentic connections. The woman in these pages is that poet, someone who has come through to what she calls in the final poem–”That Invincible Summer.”

–Baron Wormser

The poems in Bridget Gage-Dixon’s Breach have a dark, thrilling intensity that will stay with you long after you’ve read them. Birth itself is a betrayal, and childhood a period when you are only “safe as long as you are unseen.” Epiphanies are tinged with menace, as though early trauma has pushed the imagination into the realm of the visionary. And yet, as this haunting book “leads us into the uncharted territories of ourselves,” a yearning for beauty and redemption steers it toward a faith that “what has been riven must rise.”

–Jeffrey Harrison

Bridget Gage-Dixon‘s poems gathered in Breach, although capacious and broad in scope, cut to the quick: the quick of the heart, the mind, the human spirit. She shares Thomas Hardy’s sensibility of tenderhearted ironic realism, if one can imagine a twenty-first century, urbanized American incarnation. The speaker, and those she addresses, sometimes in letters, sometimes directly, are survivors (or not) of sexual abuse, physical violence, suicide attempts, cutting, addictions, and ineffectual, when not malicious, mental health treatments. But Gage-Dixon’s intense subject matters are but one layer of what works in these fierce, radiant poems: insight, compression, singular metaphor, exacting details, beautifully-turned lines, offered to us by one whose unflinching yet compassionate gaze is refreshing and often breathtaking. When such poems arises in one who has beheld the worst and lived to transcend, even sanctify, its lessons, we owe it to ourselves to take in the sacramental wine.

–Gray Jacobik, author of The Banquet: New & Selected Poems, and Eleanor

Please share/repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #read #poems #literature #poetry

[writing-frenzy]

Hidden Potential (but not from this Sinner’s eyes)

So, I got really inspired by @crowsketches  Wonderful    AU Idea and ended up writing this little thing for it. Hope you all like it!

Don’t own Cuphead!

Many things could be said about The Devil; he was a demon, a bastard, pure evil incarnate, deceitful, a lair, a cheat and oh could the list ever go on, but then we would be here all day in that case. Needless to say, many things could be said of the being, most of it unflattering to say the least.

But if there was one thing one could never say for the king of sin, it was this; in no shape or form was the demon a fool.

Oh, sure, The Devil had his missteps and foul ups, no one is infallible in this world. The being is full of his own arrogance and other sins, so mistakes can be made here and there every century or so.

Thing is, The Devil never makes the same mistake more then once. If if he did, well, he certainly wouldn’t be the top of Hell, or leading a successful business as he was all over the world. (Sin was everywhere, after all, but Inkwell was... Special in it’s own right.) He was a being with plenty of experience with the world and how it worked, and was actually able to learn from what it gave him.

So when two certain dishware brothers actually managed to not only beat his runaway debtors and his crew at the casino, but even himself? The King of Hell took notice. Cuphead and Mugman... Just entering the world of adulthood, and already hailed as ‘heroes’ for beating the Devil and the casino staff, thinking they’ve freed the isles from his corruption. 

Heh, as if he’s ever had to actually had to ‘imprison’ anyone; every single one of the suckers were the ones to come to him, the ones who took the gambles and risks despite knowing all the dangers. Already, he’s had a few come visit the place, looking so smug even as they slowly drain their accounts just like before.

(Honestly, it was only a matter of time before he got new soul contacts to replace the ones he’s lost; wouldn’t take long judging by the greed and lust in those hearts all around.)

But on to the brothers, The Devil couldn’t deny he was interested; with only two days, the boys had been able to grow so strong and powerful, no doubt fueled in part by determination, desperation, and their bond with each other, which is what really made them a threat. By themselves, they were strong, true, could even probably take on anything as they were both of equal strength in powers and abilities, but with them working together, that was when one needed to learn to fear.

Cuphead, older of the two, was interesting in just how reckless and aggressive he could be, overwhelming in his fighting which made him seem that much stronger. This would work out better, if the boy wasn’t a bit too overconfident in his skills, their ego getting in their way to bring them down and leaving them wide open to any enemy able to take advantage of it. By himself, he would probably perish many times before he could defeat a Debtor.

But of course, he wasn’t; he had the cautious, worrying, if bright brother on his side, ready to have his back, push him forward, or parry his ghost when needed. Where as his brother was a tank, Mugman would be akin to sniper, the wary one to see the patterns first and use them to their advantage as much as possible. If only the boy wasn’t too hesitant and self conscious, he would truly be a real threat.

And yet, for all the faults both had, when put together, they covered each other perfectly. 

The Devil grinned, a thought coming to him; he just had the most delightful plan come to mind.

All he had to do, was wait... But first, he needed to make a stop by the PR.

He just had a most wonderful idea for an add.

 It was almost too funny, seeing the brats come in, the red one nearly simmering, even as the cup in blue followed behind at a slower place, eyes cautious as the still liquid on their head let out only a bubble or two from the straw, showing a super at the ready any minute. In no time at all did they approach the table The Devil decided to set up, smirking as the two little guys stomped and walked up to him.

“Welcome to the Casino boys, here to bet again?” the furred demon nearly purred, grin on his face even as the two cups regarded him burning glares and gazes.

“What the heck is the meaning of this!” Cuphead near growled, slamming a familar paper on the table.

Humoring the cup, the demon took a look, amused as he read the familar words.

Want a gamble most brisk? Feeling up the risk? Come and bet The Devil himself in The Devil’s Casino!

Not his best work, but PR did know how to get the point across, if he did say so himself.

“Why, that looks like one of my very own adds; good to see that it’s already turning in some customers as we speak.” Devil said, grinning even as Cuphead steamed.

“We beat you! You should be gone!” the red brother exclaimed, glare glowing bright even as his brother tried to calm him down.

“Hmph, really? One battle and you think I’m that easy to get rid of? Now that is funny.” the furred being snorted, even as his add was crushed before his eyes by one hotheaded cup.

“Then we’ll just have to beat you again-” Cuphead began, only to be cut off by a white gloved hand, one belonging to their blue brother.

Ah, seems someone has notice just how much tighter security is now, what with how they point out said they to their brother, those large dark eyes widening in realization.

“You’ll find,” The devil smirked, chin in his hands as his elbows rested on the table, “that this time, I’m not going to underestimate you boys.”

For a moment, only the back ground noise in the casino could be heard, even as the many hidden guards and spells in the place glowed in warning, watching, waiting for a single word from the big cheese of the Casino's word. 

“So, unless you boys have a bet to place, you might want to scoot along; I know quiet a few of my staff would absolutely love the chance to kick you out.” bait set.

“Not a chance, we’ll not let you get anymore souls if we have anything to say about it.” Red near whistle, anger in their eyes plain to see, even as Blue nodded in agreement, eyes though still wary, even as determination still shined.

“Heh, like you could honestly stop people from betting with me.” line thrown. 

“We can too!” nibbles.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Would you bet on that?” the Devil asked, grin on his face as he watched the frustrated boy before him open his mouth.

Only to find a tine cake shoved right into it before anything can come out.

“If you say yes, we immediately lose! Without any boundaries even set because you did make a bet!” Mugman near hissed, shaking his brother as he did so.

That got a sheepish response from his brother, who hastily finished chewing his cake as he did.

“Hehehe, yeah, I didn’t think about that...”

Ah, tis a shame; just meant he’ll have to use even more words then.

“Alright then, how about this;” his words getting attention instantly, “we’ll only count any bet after yours. If you can honestly stop people from making a bet with me the rest of the day, you’ll get one thing you want.” the Devil tempted, smirking as he could see it working on Cuphead.

“Then I want you gone from Inkwell Isles forever!”

That got a frown and a raised eyebrow, “Kid, even if I wanted to take that risk, I can’t...” that actually got him some surprised looks from the two brats, “but I can say I’ll be gone from Inkwell as long as you two live if you like.”

“And our friends?” Mugman put in hesitantly, frown on his own face as he regarded the devil carefully.

Devil let out a smirk at that, leaning back into his chair as he took a sip of some rather nice bourbon before replying, “Sure; if you’re will to bet a soul.”

And oh look, this time the brother just wasn’t fast enough.

“It’s a deal.”

And so the game begins.

In the end, the two hold there end of the bet very well. Cuphead using threats, and sometimes straight up force to scare of any potential bettors away, working rather well for himself. Mugman, on the other hand, used a most subtle approach, pointing attention to the Casino’s other attractions, or even down right misleading people on the facts all the while never lying.

Now, The Devil could have ended this early and just have a bet with one of his staff... but he honestly wanted to watch. Even if he lost, only he himself would have to leave for maybe a century or two before he could come back, and the casino could easily run itself with the crew leading it and some long distance from himself. Sure, King Dice would get a bit of a heavier workload, but that was what assistants were for after all. (If nothing else, that might just convince the man to finally hell damn delegate.)

So it wouldn’t be any fur off his back, so with that, he took his time to watch the brothers, grin firmly in place as the two made sure he had quiet the room for himself.

And yet, for all their strength, greed can at times be much stronger, especially with desperation fueling it. All it took was for one desperate person, just one, to get by the brothers and at his feet, a bit the worst for wear as they made a bet.

One of which he gleefully accepted, much to the brothers grief at the sight.

Ah, he ever so loved the taste of suffering; even better when paired with his own victory.

“Well now boys, it seems I’ve won this bet; time for me to collect my due.” the Devil said as he got up, even as his guards gathered the damned sod away, approaching the brothers, Cuphead standing protectively in front of his brother, Mugman tearfully clinging to him.

“Go on, take me; I’m the one who took the bet after all.” Red said bitterly, even in defeat not looking away or bowing to him.

Admirable, if foolish.

“Oh, but that would be predictable, wouldn’t it? What kind of demon would I be if you could predict me like that?” was mockingly said, even as his eyes slid from one brother to the next, his fangs now fully showing.

“No, I think I have a better choice in mind.” and thus saying so, the Devil snapped his fingers, a contract appearing at the same time as a poof appeared around the brothers.

When the smoke cleared, Cuphead was gone, no where to be seen. Mugman, on the other hand, was actually looking rather sharp in a suit and bow tie, cleaning up rather nice in the casino’s uniform. Before the young man could fully gather his wits, the contract transformed into a book, containing all the casino’s rules and regulations within.

“Welcome to The Devil’s Casino, and from here on out, I will be your boss, Mugman.” The Devil said, handing the book to the horrified mug.

Oh yes, this would be fun. 

[writingfromruins]

dead electric morning, every nerve standing on end because i woke up yesterday + stayed woken up alltheway until this morning and there is terror in me, terror in every single cell and i am afraid and afraid and i cannot sleep for it. i want to put my fear entire in my mouth where it is safe, where i can bite down on it at any moment, where i can swallow it down over and over again until it digests but my fear lives in my lungs instead + because it lives in my lungs it lives in my blood and my heart and my whole entire body shaking shaking with it- a convulsion half like a death rattle cough + half like a laugh + the laugh scares me more and whatever the part of me that isn’t me or the fear says

“You have to laugh at it. You have to laugh at the way you stand outside a door and pantomime knocking without ever making contact because otherwise you would scream or cry and that would be worse to explain then the laughing or the knocking you’re not doing. Sometimes you stand there hand raised and stop yourself before you can kick or collapse against or headbutt the door, anything to tell someone to open it, and you have to laugh because your laugh is silent anyways when you laugh like this. You have to laugh because you scream silent too and when you drive yourself to tears to knock on the door even then the knock is only the first step and every cell of you is still being circulated full of fear from your lungs. But the laughing keeps it all from shutting down before you knock.”

dead electric night and it is quiet in the winter as the clock ambles towards dawn and i am still all alight. Still too much in a body, too much to breathe right + laughing laughing laughing silently because there’s nothing else to do and it really does seem funny when i can’t sleep from it. Might have to shut myself down the hard way. Might have to cover the eyes and the mouth until breath hisses against the suction against the palm and my eyes seal shut. if i can make myself small and quiet and hold my breath until the ribs are tight around it the fear goes away before i can. and when the fear is gone i can breathe in and out and in and out and the only thing that pours through me is pure elation + when i laugh there is no scream i am trying to avoid just an absence of fear unfamiliar + when i am done laughing now i can finally sleep.

OH HYSTERIA // PD

[kayssweetdreams]

Maestro Hiccups 3: Chaos Incarnate Ch 57

You held the scissors at your side. "Y'know...maybe we should wait for Kaylo to come back...As much as we need to find the Collector, we have no idea how to open portals..." you say.

Your Kaylo seems to smile "What a good choice to have made." She said as she began to hover above the ground. "Hey! I thought you were in another dimension!" You say in shock at the magical Kaylo "I was! I got your Kaylo back to your version of Wonderworld!" She said. "I needed to just be sure that you didn't do anything sneaky." She said with a caring smile.

"Well...Thanks?" You say, unsure of her words "And, as promised, I'll get you to the dimension that the Collector is hiding in. Can I see the location on the map please?" She asked, tilting her head. You nod as you show the Collector's hiding spot on the map, and Kaylo's eyes widened "Hey! That's the world that my home is in!" She shouts. "Well, I guess that's where we gotta go then." Leo says.

"Alright, Let's go. I'm not sure if it's still intact though." Kaylo replies, cutting open the portal to the world. You pale, knowing that Balan's hiccups might have made it to that world already, but you didn't have much of a choice if you wanted to finish the game, and find the others. Taking a deep breath, You jump in, followed by Leo, Emma, and Kaylo.

Various worlds and dimensions swirled around you as you were rapidly falling to your new dimension. However, to your shock, you could see another wave of Balan's chaotic magic rushing towards the various worlds and affect them even more than before. "We have to hurry and finish this game." You mutter. When you finally reach the other side of the portal, you find yourself in a warped version of a quiet town.

"Welcome to Burgess...or at least. I think it's still Burgess..." Kaylo says, her pink eyes watching as the world seemed to have turned itself inside out. "I guess Balan's hiccups had made this world turn itself on its head." Emma said. "I hope Jack is OK..." Kaylo mutters, causing you to look curious. "Jack? Who's Jack?" You ask.

Kaylo gives a smile, but a sad sigh comes from her form "Jack Frost." She says with humor in her voice. Your eyes widened, although you shouldn't be that surprised, given everything that you've seen and been through so far. "He often comes by Rhythm Heaven, But I hope he's alright..." she mutters, looking out into the distance.

You give her a caring pat on the shoulder as she smiled at you. "But my panic can wait, you've gotta finish this game." Kaylo said. You nod, however, unlike Inkwell Isle, and the Superstar Daycare, you had no idea what this world was like before Balan's Hiccups hit. "Kaylo? Where do you think the Collector might be hiding?" You ask.

She opens her mouth to answer the question, when a small burst of smoke appears around her, and in her place was a small doll version of her, next to a note that said "No Cheating!" The three of you tense up. The girl who had been helping you had been transformed into a small lifeless toy...and it wasn't from Balan "OK. Now we HAVE to find the Collector and tell him to undo this!" Leo exclaimed.

You nod as you look around this new world that you were lost in. There were a few places to check to see if the Collector was. You spotted a large lake that was frozen over, as well as brightly colored. You turned to see a large forest bathed in golden glitter, and in front of you sat the twisted and warped town, affected by Balan's chaotic magic

[kyberled]

does braig use any different colored ink in his journal? or doodle?

Ask me stuff about Braig! || Always accepting

He does, actually! His journal is less a traditional sort of ‘diary’ and more of a mish-mash of tally-mark lists, such as ‘Times Obi-Wan Flirted With The Enemy (STOP)’, and it’s sorted into little boxes to keep track of who has been flirted with - There’s a box labelled ‘Ventress’ filled with ticks (the page across from it, labelled ‘Surprise, It’s Ventress’, has just as many ticks), one labelled ‘Grievous’ with a few uncertain marks and question marks, one labelled ‘Dooku’ with the word ‘NO’ written in all caps, bolded, and underlined, ‘Geonosian Queen’ with a small sad face, ‘Other’ with a few marks, and ‘the Literal Incarnation of the Light Side of the Force’ with ‘Gramps, we need to talk’. - another page labelled ‘Times Anakin Probably Should Have Died But Didn’t’, ‘Ahsoka Saves The Day’, and other such lighthearted pages, as well as more serious ones like ‘Battles I’ve Survived’, though this one has shaky, unsteady lines, since he tends to tick those off right after the battle ends. It’s almost therapeutic, in a sense - a way to say ‘look, I actually made it’. Sometimes, if he’s feeling really discouraged on a mission, or in general, he flips to that page and just sort of goes, look, I made it this far, I can keep going for a while longer’ and tries his best to steel himself for the coming battles. It also has lists, like ‘planets I’ve been to’, ‘planets I want to visit’, ‘languages I’ve learned’, ‘languages I want to learn’, ‘weird things Gramps has eaten to avoid offending the locals’, etc. There are also a bunch of pages of notes from lessons and lectures he’s heard, books he’s read, even rough line-of-action sketches of older knights doing forms - he’s not necessarily a phenomenal artist, but he’s figured out how to get gestures down, mostly due to practise/trial-and-error. On top of that, there are blueprints and designs for his sabers and any changes he might have wanted to make. There are also more typical journal entries, records of his thoughts and experiences… The entire book is basically organised chaos made manifest. Braig knows how to find everything and it does help him organise his thoughts, but he’d probably be asked to re-order the contents if he ever wanted to submit it to the Temple Archives.

And to answer your question, each page is covered, margins and all, with all sorts of scribbles, doodles, and additional notes. Paragraphs are peppered with underlined phrases, circled potions, arrows connecting circles to underlines, like to like, separate excerpts or quotes to each other, bits scratched out, comments written in free space, all that good stuff. On the saber designs, he scratches out bits that don’t work out, makes notes as to why they didn’t or where they failed in the dojo-oriented test runs, circles around parts he wants to change, but isn’t sure how yet - or just to highlight parts for whatever reason; The ticked-off pages (lmfao) have quotes or notes to explain what the ticks are for, like ‘Cody punched a droid’s head off’ on the ‘Cody Was Awesome’ page or “Kenobi, you almost look surprised to see me!” (Note: we were not.)’ on the ‘Surprise, It’s Ventress’ page. The one absolutely covered in writing is a page tucked into the back cover of the book, in a notch he got in the leather, titled ‘Reasons I Have The Best Mentor Ever’. It’s filled, front to back, margins and all, with ticks, quotes, notes about things like tea varieties and ceremonies, languages, lessons and corrections he got, random little things Obi did - just something Braig keeps track of. He thinks it’s too sentimental for a Jedi, but it’s something nice to look at when he’s feeling horrible so he can cheer up, but he wouldn’t really tell anyone about it it’s kind of really personal and again he thinks it’s not a Jedi-ish thing. … And if this sounds cute just remember Rodi and I have had it so the only times Obi ever found out about it were after Braig’s untimely death, usually when Braig was a young padawan. Again, when I said Rodi and I don’t let our boys be happy, I was was serious. 

He has a small collection of pens which he sort of hoards in his room or his robes, since actual writing utensils seem like they’d be pretty hard to come across. Not impossible, but difficult. As of right now, he has one (1) rather nice fountain pen he spent a long time saving up for, that writes in dark green ink - kind of a pine, if we’re being specific. This is one is pretty special to him, and he doesn’t take it on missions with him. He uses it for titling pages, or actual diary/journal entries, since he doesn’t really want to waste the ink - inkwells are even harder to find than actual pens. He also has two (2) cheaper pens, the sort you can buy in bulk at Staples or whatnot. One is a pen with a cap that’s a little nibbled on and writes in bright red ink, and the other is a click-pen that writes in black. He’ll take these on missions, or even let other people borrow them, as long as he can trust them to be returned. He has one other pen, as well, given to him by Nihrik as a Lifeday present - It’s roughly 20 000 years old, carved of bone, and engraved with an ancient Chaulean script that Reyvahl translated to say ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’. It writes with gravity, and its ink is reportedly ‘A deep crimson colour disconcertingly close to blood’. He doesn’t take this one out of his room, aside from the one time he brought it to Reyvahl for language lessons. He uses this one similarly to the fountain pen, only for titling and journal entries. Since he doesn’t take it out of his room, most of the entries written in dark red are either recounts of his days in the Temple, recounts of missions he’s just gotten back from, or dreams he’d just woken up to. Menial things like that. Sometimes, he’ll use the red bone pen to edit the green fountain pen’s writing, and vice versa; Or just write in paragraph-style notes, here and there - he doesn’t use the fountain pen or bone pen for idle doodling. In fact, because both pens require precision to use, unlike his cheaper set, he uses these to refine or clean up the lines of his saber designs. He’ll use the cheap ones for anything and take them anywhere, but the more expensive ones, the ones that would be difficult or impossible to replace, he is more careful.

The doodles in his book can be anything, but some general themes include small lightsabers, flowers, spirals, the Jedi Order logo, the Republic logo, little stars and/or planets, letters/words/etc in languages he’s learning, anything like that. Sometimes, he’ll scribble droids, little attempts at star ships, but those are a bit more difficult, and he doesn’t like flying. Piloting isn’t his strong suit. Typically, it’ll be those things I mentioned before, but he also draws/doodles things he sees. So, if he was scribbling on Kamino, he might scribble a Kaminoan, or some fish or whatever, or might scribble a rough lil mountain range if on Alderaan, etc etc. Usually, it’s either to help him concentrate or paradoxically because he spaced out, though he does use more complex sketches (eg blueprints) or entries to calm himself down after bad nights. It’s kind of therapeutic. 

[innistrahd]

Curse of Strahd, Episode 10

AKA My Throat Hurts From Doing All These Voices

Recap, with Pre-game Messages

Our heroes and their allies all arrived in Barovia in their own time and eventually met up and traveled together. They’ve all had some pretty crazy dreams, with some of them dreaming in the past of this terrifying temple made of amber, where some kinds of secrets seemed to lie. Our current group consists of Claris the wizard from Candlekeep, Ileana the druid and stealer of swords, Nyx the werewolf rogue who looks eerily similar to the Krezk Abbot’s crafted flesh golem, and Buck the tiefling gunslinger seeking revenge for the death of an old lover. Mike, a previous traveling companion, found his dog and has decided to retire from adventuring. Our party is also joined by Magdala the wereraven, Laise the familiar of Claris, Frederick the animated armor, Ash and Thorn the wood woads set to guard Ileana, and Ezmerelda the vistana seeking her mentor Van Richten. 

We left off shortly after the group arrived in the town of Krezk and met the Abbot on the hill. They learned of the Abbot’s true identity as an angel, as well as learning that he’d crafted a flesh golem to serve as the bride of Strahd, and that Nyx looked suspiciously like this golem. In between that session and this one, the party all spent some time in and around Krezk and the Abbey, during which time Ileana and the Abbot had a long discussion about fighting Strahd (with the Abbot saying it was impossible since Strahd was something more than just a normal vampire), amongst a few other events that might not be as noteworthy. Those between-session things ended with the group all laying down for some rest for the night, planning to gather their supplies and head out the next morning. 

The Amber Temple

After a long and arduous hike through the frozen mountain paths, our four heroes arrived at the facade to an ancient temple built into a mountainside- the Amber Temple, the destination they’d been seeking. The wind was bitingly cold and the snow blew into their faces and down their coats. As they descended into the dark and cold depths of the temple, they heard strange and maddening whispers calling to them from all around, and as Buck led them down he was hit by arrows coming from arrow slits hidden in the walls around. The arrows dealt enough damage to not only knock Buck unconscious but to also cause him to die. Shortly thereafter the stress of the incessant whispering caused Ileana and Claris to fall unconscious on the spot, but Nyx continued on through the temple. She explored a bit, but soon thereafter fell into her own form of madness, and soon the three maddened explorers froze to death... 

The Abbot Turned Good?

They woke up from their crazy, collective, temple-dream to find themselves back in the Abbey’s barracks where they’d laid up for the night. Banging at the door was one of the Abbot’s servants, who seemed frantic because the Abbot had somehow gone missing this morning, as had Vasilka, the golem that the Abbot had crafted. The party decided to help in the search and headed down into town, where they found that the Abbot was helping in the birthing of a new child to the town of Krezk. The birth was successful and the mothers seemed pleased, yet the baby itself didn’t cry, which was explained by one of the mothers to be because the baby was born without a soul- a truly sad, but commonplace, situation in Barovia.

The Abbot explained that he thought a lot about his and Ileana’s discussion the night before and decided that he should be doing more to help the people, not just trying to appease Strahd, and so he destroyed the abomination Vasilka and came down to town to help out, where he found out that the baby was being born that day. He then brought Ileana and the others to the house of the Burgomaster, where he used his innate magic to raise the young Ilya Krezkhov from his recent death. 

Later, as the party scattered around Krezk to do their own things for awhile, Ileana and Nyx traveled to a beautiful pool in the north side of town, where she was greeted by a figure in the water. The figure seemed to recognize her as Tatyana, his love, and he stretched a hand out of the water towards Nyx, but Ileana ensured that Nyx did not take that hand. Moments later, thunder pealed the sky as a booming voice cried out “SHE IS MINE”, and lightning struck the pool, destroying the visage of this figure and the nearby gazebo.

Our Good Friend Strahd’s Back -- With Wolves

After leaving Krezk, the group decided to take a brief stop at the werewolf den to speak with their good friend Zuleika (the current leader of the wolves) and to get the sword hilt that Claris believed to be the useful weapon from Madam Eva’s fortune telling way back in session 1. When they arrived, they found a surprising lack of werewolves- or, living ones at least. Most of the wolves were dead that they passed on their way to the shrine where the hilt lay, and when they arrived at the shrine they saw the vampire lord Strahd Von Zarovich sitting in a chair between them and the shrine, a werewolf on either of his sides and one laying on the ground under his feet. Additionally, two other wolves revealed themselves from their hiding places behind the party, effectively blocking their escape. 

Strahd expressed that he wasn’t really there to fight at the time; that he just wanted to talk. He invited Ileana forward, thanked her for helping to sow some seeds of chaos in the land but also trying to make the request that she stop her foolish attempts at revolution. She didn’t seem too into it. Strahd spoke with Buck, offering up the still-living Zuleika (the werewolf under Strahd’s foot, and the one who Strahd claimed to have killed Buck’s old love), who Buck gladly killed in a single shot. Strahd then spoke with Claris, warning her to stay away from the Amber Temple as it’s a dangerous place, which Claris seemed amenable to. Strahd then spoke with Nyx, whom he referred to as Tatyana, saying that he recognized this body as a new incarnation of her soul and asking that she come to trust him- in time. With Zuleika’s death, Strahd declared "Tatyana” as the new leader of the werewolves, and set the remaining four lycanthropes as bodyguards and packmates for her. Strahd then stood and drew his rapier as he approached Ezmerelda, but the others stood in the way, preventing Strahd’s approach. Strahd backed off and left, saying that they’d continue this at a later time.

Claris grabbed the hilt from the treasure pile and cast a Remove Curse upon herself, then the group headed out away from the den. On their way out, they felt a presence standing behind them and turned just in time for Claris to cast a Counterspell to shut down Strahd as he attempted to cast a spell at the group. His spell halted, Strahd leapt into the center of the group, drawing his rapier and attacking Ezmerelda. It was a long fight, with Ileana casting a daylight spell which began to burn Strahd’s flesh, Buck firing off many rounds of his gun all at once, and Nyx and Magdala being held by the werewolves who tried to prevent the group from fighting Strahd. Strahd was able to kill Ezmerelda and he then fled carrying her body, but it did look as though the group dealt a few good blows to the vampire and damaged him significantly before he left. 

On The Road Again

After that, the group got back on the road, heading towards the ruined village of Berez, to which the figure Baba Lysaga had invited Nyx to have a conversation. Along the road, they met with a man in a heavy, dark cloak and carrying a huge backpack, who described himself as a trader who bartered not in gold, but in items of sentimental value. The members of the group asked for items to help them fight or hide from Strahd, and the trader seemed agreeable to this. Buck traded his old father’s tinker’s tools for a mask shaped to look like an angel. Claris traded an inkwell from her parents, a research note from her old friend, her map of Barovia, the page of Van Richten’s journal she’d found recently, and the ability to cast the Mage Hand cantrip in exchange for a spellbook of an ancient and powerful wizard. Nyx traded a staff her mother had carved for her and the skull of her first rabbit kill for a cloak that would guard her from magical scrying. And Ileana traded her wolf pelt, a mistletoe kiss, and her gnome music box trinket for a stake inlaid with silver and mistletoe. Magdala asked the trader for something, but had nothing to offer in return and so he denied her request. After hearing all their offers, the trader vanished. 

The group decided to head back to Vallaki since it was nearby and Claris wanted a new map. As they walked to the cartographer Alek’s shop, they noticed that the church of Vallaki had been burnt down since they were last here, but that didn’t stop them from focusing on their goal. Claris bought a map, and the group headed back towards Berez, with Claris (being carried by Frederick) identifying the magic on some of the group’s new items on the way. 

Baba Lysaga’s Here in Berez

The ground underfoot became swamplands as the road winded down beside the river to the ruins of Berez. There, the group met with the old hag Baba Lysaga, who wished to speak with Nyx. They spoke, during which time Nyx learned about a deal her mother had struck but then backed out of, a deal where Baba Lysaga would help allow Nyx to live a normal life in exchange for her mother’s life. Baba Lysaga also called Strahd her son, and told Nyx that she seemed like she’d be a good bride for the handsome young fella. 

While in Berez, Nyx also spoke with a ghost who expressed that she looked a lot like the ghost’s late daughter, a girl called Marina. The ghost told Nyx of Marina’s story- that Strahd had become enamored with her, that the ghost (the burgomaster of Berez) and the village’s priest killed Marina to prevent her from being turned by Strahd, and how the village was then swallowed up by the sea in Strahd’s wrath. Ileana meanwhile spoke with a wereraven across the river at a sacred site, who tried to warn Ileana not to speak with the hag Baba Lysaga. And that was where we left off. 

DM Notes

Generally, just... wow, there are a lot of plot threads I have to be weaving together right now. I’m glad I’m able to keep most of them in check most of the time, but boy howdy is it getting to be a lot. Some of them may be reaching natural conclusions soon, though, although others will also be showing up soon too, so... But, I enjoy DMing nonetheless. 

-The Amber Temple: I have made some huge changes to the temple so far, as I have with a lot of things from the CoS adventure module, and I LOVE IT. I don’t want to say too much about the specific changes to the temple until they’re all revealed in the game, but suffice it to say they intrigue me very much, and the temple has only been shown in dreams so far...

-Different Ambiance: I tried something new this time with my auditory aids to the game. For past sessions, I’ve been using music to help create certain moods during the game. This time, I used a few different ambient tracks made up of sounds like wolves howling, wind blowing, and the like, and I feel like the ambiance was mostly unnoticeable during the session. It might have just been too quiet, but it seemed like it could only be heard at all when all the conversation quieted out, although I guess in a certain way that helps a lot too. 

-Boosting the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind: Normally the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind is only attunable by clerics and paladins, who can use its powers to boost their turn undead attempts and the like. However, since our party doesn’t have any clerics or paladins, I decided to allow attunement by any kind of character, and I decided that the symbol granted its users turn undead attempts instead of boosting the ones they already had. I don’t know if it’s “balanced” in any way, but it seems to have been appreciated so far, and it was used a few times this session to mixed success.

-Nyx + Tatyana - too much? : Another of the brand new things I added to Curse of Strahd for this campaign was to make our PC Nyx the reincarnation of Strahd’s old love Tatyana. Normally in the Curse of Strahd book there is a character who is Tatyana’s reincarnation, and she is likely to travel with the party for awhile before they’re able to put her in a safe place and leave. But, with Nyx being a party member, all this information is suddenly about a member of their group, and it’s a little to a lot harder for her to leave. I’m definitely concerned both whether it’s too much information for the players or just for the one player in particular, but the general response I’m getting seems to be that it’s still fairly interesting and feels natural. At least, so far

[catgirlelric]

@lunar-inkwell their original incarnations killed god and ate its corpse (with help from some friends of course)

oc fun facts:

aira's favorite song is whatever the medieval fantasy version of creeping in my soul by cryoshell is

snowsong once tried attaching padding to her prosthetic because she kept falling asleep at her desk and it left embarrassing marks in the side of her face

despite her black blade taking the form of a two-handed sword, aira does not actually know how to use a two-hander. she just thinks it looks cool

snowsong immediately kills any bug she sees on reflex because when they were kids aira hated them

aira likes whittling and carving but even after over a decade she's still shit at it, and doesnt even realize. no one's ever been able to tell her because shes so proud of her creations

snowsong still doesn't really get exactly how human money works

aira's eyes are naturally heterochromatic, with one being black and red and the other being silver. the reason both eyes are currently black and red is because of her sword

snowsong only knew her father for about a year and and a half. when she hears the word "father", the first person she thinks about is her teacher, elias, who took care of her from the age of 14 onwards

on a meta level, aira is trans specifically to spite terfs who link the moon to womanhood because of periods.

every one of snowsong's past reincarnations has lost their left arm at some point (usually around the age of 20) as well. and yes that particular identifying trait was lifted wholesale from adventure time

and lastly: my favorite joke about the source of snowsong and aira's power is that "they had a really weird dinner party around 15,000 years ago"