#joke about her studying hunt and having a section for it in her journal. which is really funny

[hsslilly-blog]

i’ve been thinking about it and claire really liking journaling + making handcrafted cards are such introspective activities. she has to sit in silence with herself a lot for these things.

[bestratedwalkersforelderlyu-blog]

Best Walkers For Seniors Reviews

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Outdoor Walkers For Seniors

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[ellanainthetardis]

Battle plans are harder than they look! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know your thoughts please, I live for feedback! 

[ff] or [ao3]

6.

“This isn’t working out.” Katniss snapped, tossing away the diary she had been skimming through. It hit the table with a soft thud and a cloud of dust.

Haymitch glared at her, like he had glared at her every time she had mistreated one of his precious books so far, but she ignored him. She bolted on her feet and started pacing, too anxious to stay still any longer. At least her shoulder had stopped throbbing sometimes in the early hours of the morning and she could use it again now…

It was probably a good thing the library was so big, it gave her room to walk around and burn some energy. It occupied a whole section of the house, it stretched on two floors and had the tallest rows of bookshelves she had ever seen in her life, all full of obscures tomes and magic volumes. A whole section of it was dedicated to all the journals of previous Watchers – and there were a lot of those journals – and all those dating from the last century or so were currently piled on the huge round table that was at the centre of the ground floor.

The drawing Peeta had finished in a rush, a perfect likeness to the woman they had met in the woods, laid on the table as a reference. But the fact was that they were looking for a needle in a haystack. There were drawings and prints in some of the journals but not of every vampire that had crossed path with the Slayers.

It was now ten in the morning, they had spent half the night bent over those books and she was nowhere closer to figuring out who the vampire was, how to take her out or where her sister was.

And she was sick and tired or reading about dead girls. Those journals were nothing else but paper tombs and one day she would get one of her own.

Which was probably why Haymitch had grabbed the most recent ones. He was strangely reluctant to share anything about his previous charges and since she didn’t want to get a headache trying to decipher his handwriting she hadn’t protested. She had noticed he had spent a lot of time on one particular diary though. Maysilee Donner, the label on the spine said. The dates put her back to around twenty years earlier so she figured she had been one of his first Slayers. For all she knew, he was feeling nostalgic.

The fact remained they were getting nowhere.

“Maybe you should try to get some rest.” Peeta suggested, rubbing his eyes. “If you have to fight tonight…”

“Maybe you should go home.” she retorted. She wasn’t sure why Peeta was still there at all. Haymitch had been hammering the fact that nobody could find out about her inside her head from the start and she was still waiting for him to shout at her about breaking the rules. Instead, he had accepted Peeta’s offer for help without as much as a blink.

“You’ve been here all night.” Haymitch cut in, without the hostility that dripped from her own voice. “You should call your folks, at least.”

“They won’t notice I’m gone.” He opened another journal with renewed determination. “Nobody would miss me if I disappeared.”

Haymitch stared at him a little strangely but then they both went back to reading as if it was really the answer to anything.

“This isn’t working.” Katniss snarled again, snatching the crumpled note the vampires had tossed through the window. It was bloodstained. Was it Prim’s? Was she hurt? Was she… Haymitch insisted they would keep her alive but he might very well be lying to keep her calm. “What’s even the Hanging Tree?” she scoffed. “She writes that like I should know what it is…”

Haymitch let out a long suffering sigh and, when he spoke, he sounded strangely reluctant. “It’s the only tree in the meadow between The Capitol and the woods.”

“You mean the lightning tree?” Peeta frowned, looking up from his diary.

She stopped pacing in disbelief. “What? The old burned stump?”

The tree had been struck by lightning decades ago. For as long as she could remember, people had been talking about removing it but, somehow, it never got done.

“It wasn’t lightning.” Haymitch explained. After a second, he fished the flask out of his pocket and took a swing. Katniss gritted her teeth and she would have slapped it right out of his hand if he hadn’t put it away after a single mouthful. His voice was steadier but there was a strange note in it. For a moment, she wondered if it was fear. “It was magic.”

“Magic is real?” Peeta gaped.

“Really, boy?” her mentor snorted. “Vampires and Slayer don’t throw you but magic does?”

“Hey, I waited for my Hogwarts letter like everybody else.” Peeta joked and then tossed a guilty glance at Katniss. “Sorry. Not a good time for jokes. The tree. Why is it important?”

“It’s not the tree. It’s what is under the tree.” Haymitch mumbled. He looked exhausted all of a sudden. His shoulders slouched as if he was bearing the weight of his forty years and Katniss might have felt a little more sorry for him if her sister hadn’t been kidnapped by vampires. He passed a hand over his face, let it linger in front of his mouth for a second and then dropped it on the wooden table. “The tree is on top of a Hellmouth.”

“A Hellmouth.” Katniss repeated flatly.

“The name’s pretty self-explanatory, really.” her Watcher winced. “It’s a supernatural hot spot. Attracts all kind of nasty things… It’s a place where barriers between dimensions are thin. To put it more simply… It’s…”

“A hole to hell.” she finished.

“If you open it.” he temporized. “But it’s not open now and nobody’s opening it. That would take rituals, time and more juice than one vampire alone can have.” He stared at the journal in his hand and then shook his head. “Like I said… It attracts evil. And it’s in the middle of a flat land where she will see you coming.”

“She probably just wants to brag about having killed the Slayer on top of the hole to hell.” she scowled.

“She ain’t gonna kill you, Katniss.” he spat. “You ain’t dying today.”

“Changed your tune quickly.” she sneered. “Yesterday you were all about reminding me that I was five seconds away from biting the dust.” She crumpled the note in her fist and tossed it back on the table. “We need to do something.”

“How about finding them now?” Peeta suggested. “I mean… They can’t go out during the day, right? So they must be hiding somewhere…”

“And where do you want us to look?” she snapped. “You want us to walk around at random until we find them? Vampires don’t really sleep in coffins, Peeta.”

Haymitch slammed his hand on the table, the sudden noise was enough to make them both jump.

“Stop fighting.” he growled. “You’re giving me a headache.” He was studying Peeta with curiosity though. “The boy’s idea ain’t bad, sweetheart… If we could find them… It would still be a long shot. You dusted a few of her minions but we know she at least still has that kid with her…”

“Cato.” Katniss reminded him. “And he’s going to be a problem too. He’s a more experienced fighter than I am.”

“I can take care of Cato.” Peeta said. “I’m used to fighting with him at practice.”

“You’re not coming.” she declared and then tossed her hands in the air in frustration. “And we’ve got no place to go anyway. We don’t know where they are.”

“If she’s as old and powerful as you say… She’s probably an arrogant one too. They always are…” Haymitch muttered thoughtfully. He seemed to have come to a decision and hauled himself to his feet. “Okay. New plan. Boy, you keep on trying to figure out who the vampire is. Girl, grab some weapons, we’re taking a field trip.”

“A field trip.” she spat.

“Yeah.” he confirmed, checking that his hunting knife was at the small of his back. “I’m gonna teach you how to beat up informants.”

A little bit of violence actually didn’t sound that bad at that second so she followed him out the door.

And, surprise of surprises, it turned out he could actually drive a bike.

°O°O°O°O°O°

Haymitch pushed the bike harder than he had in a long time, harder than was probably wise given that he had only had a couple of mouthfuls of liquor in the last twenty-four hours and that he could already feel the telltale signs of withdrawals. He didn’t like riding with a passenger either, they usually were an hindrance and Katniss was no exception. She clung to his waist but didn’t have the experience needed to move with him when he took sharp turns or tried to move his body along with the bike to gain speed.

The fact that he was maneuvering in narrow alleys wasn’t helping either.

Eventually, he stopped the bike in front of a nondescript door and Katniss hopped down and immediately scowled when she spotted the decrepit sign hanging next to the door by only one hinge.

“Ripper’s Bar?” She was already getting angry. “We have better things to do than getting you a fix, Haymitch!”

He rolled his eyes, trying to keep a lid on his own temper because hers was grating on his nerves. He grabbed the cutlass he had stashed in the side saddle and clenched and unclenched his fist around the hilt a few times. His grip wasn’t as steady as he would have liked.

“It’s a demon bar.” he grumbled. “Keep your bow ready, be your usual charming self and let me do the talking.” Katniss’s scowl only deepened and he snorted. “Yeah, just like that. Anyone ever told you you’ve got as much charm as a dead slug?” And with that parting shot, he headed to the door, only pausing long enough to survey the dark alley one last time. It didn’t look so frightening in plain day but it didn’t mean nobody was lurking in the shadows. “Anyone so much as touches that bike and that’s the last thing they’re ever gonna do.”

Something receded in the shadows. Wise choice. He might still have got some intimidation left in him after all.

A little bell jingled when he pushed the door open and, in the very real cliché of every cowboy movie that ever existed, a hush fell on the bar. Next to him, he heard Katniss suck in a breath when she took in the collection of patrons. Demons, a couple of vampires, one or two regular humans…

“Well, ain’t you a jolly bunch.” he mocked, loud enough to be heard in the whole bar.

“So the rumors are true. Abernathy’s back in town.” the old woman behind the bar spat out with venom. To be fair, he hadn’t expected Ripper to be happy to see him again. He was pretty sure he had left a huge tab the last time he had skipped town.

She could have passed for a human if she had tried but the little bumps on her forehead betrayed her half-bred origins.

She reached for something under the counter and, before he could react, Katniss had let loose an arrow. It had been a warning shot. The mirror behind the bar, the one quite a few people in there didn’t reflect into, shattered.

“Easy, sweetheart…” he chuckled. “She only got the one arm now… Would be a shame to take off the only one left, yeah?” He glanced around, most of the demons in there were inoffensive and were working hard on looking as harmless as possible. The vampires though, they would try to bolt before long. “Slayer’s a little cranky so it’s probably best if everyone sits tight. Best to avoid misunderstandings.”

He grabbed one of the stools and slammed his cutlass on the counter, glaring at the old woman. “How about you give me a whiskey. With some information.”

Katniss remained standing next to him, watching the group of vampires with attention. Either she had noticed how nervous they looked or she had identified the biggest threat in the room.

“The last Slayer you brought here cut my arm off.” Ripper growled.

“You sold her bad intel.” Haymitch shrugged. “Just be happy she didn’t take off your head.” He nodded at Katniss. “Should warn you this one ain’t half as nice as Donner was. She’s hitching to kill you, I can tell. Ain’t you, sweetheart?”

Katniss didn’t answer but she drummed her fingers on her bow a little impatiently. There wasn’t a demon in that bar who wasn’t staring at those drumming fingers.

“Your mother was decent.” Ripper hissed. “Doing business with her was…”

“You leave my mother where she is.” he cut her off, ignoring Katniss’ curious look. “I’m still waiting for that whiskey. The fine stuff, please.”

He played with the cutlass the whole time it took her to pour him a glass and slide it on the counter. He took an unhurried sip, pretending he couldn’t tell his Slayer’s temper was close to blowing out. She was fed up with his antics, he could feel it, but he was playing a long game here. Ripper’s was a good place to find information and beating everyone up every time was less effective than making it worth the old woman’s time.

Ripper had never been a very patient woman anyway.

“What do you want?” the half-demon asked after only a handful of seconds, eyeing Katniss with open distrust. “You know I don’t sell out my customers. Bad for business.”

She had sold out her customers plenty of times before but never in front of an audience. She hadn’t stayed alive that long by being stupid.

He finished his whiskey in a long mouthful, the familiar sense of calm falling over him when the alcohol settled in his stomach.

“We’re looking for a vamp.” he told her. “Blond. Pretty. Sniffing around the Hellmouth…”

There was some shuffling over the vampires corner. Katniss’ bow turned in that direction.

Ripper had noticed too, she was watching them, disgust and anger battling on her face, probably because she knew what would follow. “She’s never been in here but I’ve heard stuff, yeah. No chance you can take it outside? It’s just… I’ve just had the interior redone.”

“You haven’t bought anything new in this bar in thirty years.” he mocked.

“Half a life for you, a blink for me.” the woman deadpanned.

And then, predictably, the vampires bolted.

He didn’t bother standing up. He had seen Katniss shoot before, after all.

Three arrows found hearts easily and dust rose, hiding her from view for a moment. When it settled down, she had the fourth vampire pinned down on the floor, a hand around his throat. And she was scorning at him.

“Where’s my sister?” she hissed.

The vampire’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull, Haymitch noted with some amusement, gesturing at Ripper to pour him another drink.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” the vampire shouted in a panic. Katniss pulled a stake out and Haymitch almost smirked at how frightened the vampire looked. He glanced around the bar, pleased to notice most of the demons looked nervous and scared. That was good. Good publicity. The demonic population of the Seam would be less inclined to try to add a Slayer to their trophy collection if they were afraid of her. The vampire meanwhile tried to struggle free. “I know the blond chick! I know the blond chick! She’s been recruiting! She wants to get the town under control or something!”

“Don’t they always.” Haymitch sighed, exchanging a knowing look with Ripper who had always been pretty neutral when it came down to good versus evil. It had taken him a long time to learn not all demons wanted to unleash the fires of hell on Earth. Some were half-human, some were harmless, some just wanted to survive or live normal lives…

“Where is she?” Katniss snarled.

“She… She is holing up at the old cabin in the woods! The one not too far from the lake!” the vampire spilled. “She’s trying to keep a low profile until the others get here! She’s just scouting! Making sure they can take over the town!”

“What others?” Haymitch frowned. Others didn’t sound good.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” the vampire claimed when Katniss pressed the stake a little harder over his heart. “She never calls them by name! She keeps saying when they’re here the town will be ours! That’s all!”

“Does she have a name?” Katniss hissed.

“Cashmere.” the vampire said immediately. “She goes by Cashmere. That’s all I know. Now, you’re gonna let me go, right?”

“Sorry.” Katniss answered and then there was nothing but another cloud of dust. She wiped her hands on her pants and picked up her bow before standing up. “Cashmere. Does that ring any bell?”

Haymitch took a minute to think but eventually had to admit defeat. “I don’t know. Ripper, anything to add?”

The old woman pursed her lips in displeasure but shrugged. “Heard she wants to open the Hellmouth.”

“Of course she does.” he sighed, sliding off the stool and on his feet. “Put the whiskey on my tab.”

“The one you never pay when you skip town?” Ripper deadpanned.

“Hey, we didn’t destroy your bar, this time.” he pointed out. “Cut me some slack.”

He nudged Katniss toward the door but she was staring at a group of demons huddled around one of the tables. They were watching her like she was the devil incarnate. To them, she probably was. Slayers were legends in the demonic world. The monster’s very own bogeyman.

“What about them?” she asked.

“Pretty much harmless.” he commented, loud enough to be overheard. “As long as they don’t start killing people, I say we leave them be.”

“We don’t want any trouble!” one of them said quickly. A woman that would have looked perfectly human if her skin hadn’t been a deep green.

Katniss didn’t look convinced but she shrugged. “Fine. Let’s go find, Prim.”

He followed her outside and waited until the door to the bar had swung shut before informing her they weren’t going to rush to a cabin in the woods without any sort of preparation.

“You can bitch all you want. I want a solid plan first.” he cut her off mid-rant. He knew she wasn’t happy. He wasn’t happy either. “There’s plenty of daylight left. We go back home, we stock up on weapons and we stop to think for more than a fucking minute.”

“I’m not spending another hour looking at those books.” she hissed.

“We go home, we grab weapons, we figure out some sort of strategy and then we go get your sister.” he promised. “We play it smart, kid.”

As it turned out, it was asking her a lot.

By the time he stopped the bike in front of his house, he could practically feel the restlessness coming out of her in waves. She was like an animal on the hunt. She wouldn’t sit down, she wouldn’t drink or eat anything, she wouldn’t even stop gathering the weapons she wanted to bring while he summed up what they had found for the boy who had still been slaving over the journals when they had showed up.

“Here’s the plan.” Katniss declared, cutting Haymitch off in the middle of his explanations. “I kick the door down and I kill as many as I can while you get Prim as far away from the literal hell hole as you can take her.”

Haymitch flashed his best sarcastic smile. “And that’s why nobody let’s you make the plans, sweetheart. That Cashmere ain’t your regular vamp, you said. She’ll be on you before you can say Slayer.”

Not that she was listening to him.

“We’re going to need to borrow your car.” she told Peeta, shouldering on her quiver and her bow before turning to Haymitch. “Go grab as many of your bottles of liquor as you can find. It shouldn’t be that difficult.”

Haymitch lifted his eyebrows. “Not that I don’t share the sentiment but it ain’t the best time to start drinking, sweetheart…”

“I don’t want to drink it.” she snapped. “Once you take Prim out, we’re going to burn that cabin down to the ground. And the woods with it if I have to.” She studied Peeta for a second. “You still want to help?”

“Yes.” the boy answered immediately.

“Do you think you can handle throwing a few Molotov cocktails?” she insisted.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Haymitch protested, knocking on the table to get her attention. “We ain’t taking the boy with us. Innocents get hurt in the crossfire. Research is fine if he wants to help but that’s as far as I’m letting it go.”

Her gaze almost glided over him. She wasn’t even listening. She was standing a little straighter, her chin that little bit higher, her shoulders square…

Gone was the girl he had met two weeks earlier.

In her place stood a Slayer.            

The Slayer.

And, shit, if it didn’t terrified him senseless.

She was going to die. They always died.

And she was still wearing that fucking pin on her chest…  

“It’s alright, Mr Abernathy.” Peeta said firmly. “I want to help.”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed.” he snarled, standing up so brutally his chair clattered to the floor. “Humans aren’t equipped to fight vampires.”

“You’re human.” Katniss pointed out.

“I’m a Watcher.” he countered.

“Then watch.” she spat. “You get Prim out and then you make sure Peeta doesn’t get hurt.”

“I’ll get your sister out, then the boy can drive her away. I’ll handle the cocktails.” he argued.

They glared at each other up until she averted her eyes with a scorn. “Your hands are shaking, you won’t be able to aim. You’re more useful protecting Prim. Peeta will be outside in the sun where no vampire can grab him. He’s coming because I need him. You wanted a plan, I’ve given you one. So are you with me or not?”

It wasn’t a bad plan.

It wasn’t a bad plan but she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t…

“I’m your Watcher, sweetheart.” he whispered. “That ain’t ever gonna be a question.”

Katniss nodded at him and then licked her lips. “Then we have a plan.”

“Well, then…” Peeta grinned, standing up. “Avengers assemble.”

Young people had a way of making him feel old but he was glad Katniss looked as puzzled as he was.

[prinzenhasserin]

Dear Worldbuilder!

This is just a general thing to tell you what I like/don’t like. I’ll be super thrilled if you find something adjacent you want to make instead! Most of my prompts are for writing, but art is also very welcome.

For all my requests there’s a potential to set them in canon, but also pre-canon or post-canon, and I don’t have a preference. 

Likes:

competence porn

people not realizing they’re the most competent at their job/hobby

people failing their way to success

epistolary, journal entries, encyclopaedia entries, textbook articles

outsider POV

people not usually found in law enforcement solving crimes

dragons, fairy tales, magical realism

I kind of don’t dare to put politics here after what has happened and is happening right now, but I love the kind of pragmatic politics with idealistic background, and I’m a sucker for idealistic pragmatism, but I would totally understand not touching that with a pitchfork.

moral conflicts, orange and blue morality

people coming together to solve problems

noodle incidents

convoluted backstories you wouldn’t expect

Dislikes/DNW:

grimdark endings

rape, especially rape as backstory

hopeless, crapsack worlds

melodrama (stuff that takes itself too serious)

sex in a library

Leverage

This perfect show hits all of my weak spots and I may or may not have rewatched it more than ten times. Do not worry about getting facts wrong, though -- my memory is a sieve.

My favourite character is Jim Sterling. There is absolutely no need for including him in your story. I focused less on the requested characters and more on the worldbuilding prompts, but if you rather want to focus on any of the other characters, I love each of them on their own, too! (And together! And I love that Sterling is so eminently hateable.)

Characters: Jim Sterling, Alec Hardison, Eliot Spencer, Parker, Sophie Deveraux

Prompts:

WB: Aliases and their imaginary lives

It is known that one of Parker’s aliases had to go do jury duty. Are all of the aliases Hardison creates registered to vote? Do they get parking tickets? Do they all have jobs? How deep does this go?! Do they have housing, are they paying taxes -- do they have student debt?

Is Hardison creating aliases as some sort of cathartic response -- does he do it for fun? Does he ship them with each other? (Is he secretly a writer...)

WB: Interpol

RL Interpol doesn’t have field agents, does Leverage Interpol have agents, or is Jim Sterling just overly awesome at pretending to be an upstanding citizen?

If it is in fact, a real criminal enforcement agency, what are some of his reports like? Maybe he actually isn’t there to investigate Leverage Consulting, but is instead taking down the politicians they are after? 

Is Interpol’s relationship with the Leverage team sort of a running joke in the intelligence community? Or like, the go-to-excuse for derailing an operation? 

WB: Criminal Files

Oh man, I would love to peak into what kind of criminal files the various characters have (if they even have one), on different criminal databases

Maybe Parker’s fingerprints are at so many crime sights at once, people think the finger print is a statistical error

WB: RPF fanfiction in-universe

That weird thief in “A Girl’s Night Out” is definitely a Parker stan, and stalks all her crimes across a variety of message boards.

Lots of fans start out with just one of them; Parker, Hardison and Sophie are kind of infamous, and they probably had a following before teaming up, but it really starts getting intense when there are rumours of them working together (!!) to take down even worse criminals (!!) That’s when Hardison organises the first con

There are probably volunteers for identity theft

(oh god. ship wars.)

tumblr-sites dedicated to finding out if what Parker can do is actually humanly possible

the desperate hunt to find out which WoW avatar Hardison is playing

in-universe fanfiction, in-universe meta, chat-streams, twitter messages

WB: Contacts of Leverage Consulting

How do they find clients?

Do they get clients via submission based websites? How do they check their information?

Queen’s Thief

My prompts focus more on pre-, or during canon time periods, but if you want to play in the future, that’s also great! 

Characters: Original Pirate Character, Original Female Characters, Original Thief Character, Eugenides the God

Prompts:

WB: Diplomatic Relations

There is probably trade happening outside the for main countries. How does that happen? Is Ornon part of a larger battalion of cousin-diplomats? Do they speak different languages, or dialects? Where there misunderstandings based on changed language?

Where is the University of Ferria and why can Eugenides send someone there for exile? Are there other places people can be send to because of political turmoil?

Are any of them send back because they had been exiled by different kings?

How do the other countries react to the Sophos method of negotiation? 

Or the fact that the Sovereign of Attolia, Eddis and Sounis is a Thief/Eugenides?

WB: Island States

How do the Island States keep their independence from both Sounis, Attolia, and the Mede for so long?

The answer might definitely be: Pirates. How does it work? Is it like a law-free zone, or do they have strict policies in place? Do they buy their lumber for the boats from Eddis, like all the rest of the countries? Or does their entire fleet contain ships other people built.

What makes them different from Attolia, Eddis, or Sounis? Is there a difference? (Ocean traditions, gods, system of government)

WB: Engineers

Who built all the passageways through Eddis? Are there lifts working with water displacement?

How about those clocks. How does a vaguely Byzantine Empire get clocks. Or guns. 

Where do they go to study? Is there an engineering section in Eugenides’ library in Eddis? Who do they read? What kind of subject do they fail -- Euclidean algebra?

WB: University of Ferria

Does it have a library?

How about the History Department. Do they have questions about the change in power re:Attolia? Is Erondite the Younger helpful?

What’s the relationship to the country Attolia?

Do all the children of the higher echelons go to university?

WB: myths

How do normal thieves interact with their god? Maybe Eugenides isn’t such an aberration, and Eugenides the God comes to all his thieves and tells them to stop whining, or iterations thereof.

What’s up with that falling stuff? Myth, or myth busted? Did the Queen Thief really fall of dancing on a roof, or did she intentionally kill herself?

How did Eugenides become the god of thieves? Is he just responsible for thieves, or also for other things?

Discworld

Look, I obviously have a soft spot for competent despots. Also, I find it a shame that Susan Sto Helit, Sam Vimes and Lord Vetinari never met in canon, because they are all sort of nobility. Any of these characters would be great! So would different characters.

Characters: Lord Vetinari, Susan Sto Helit, Sam Vimes, Rufus Drumknot, Original Characters

Prompts:

WB: Patrician’s Palace

I would love to see how the architecture looks like, anywhere among at least six floors, plus cellars, sub-cellars, and liveable attics. Floorplans! Secret tunnels! Who all lives here? Is there a visitor’s log? 

We know there’s no orang utans in the menagerie, but what lives there?

How about those dungeons? The cells look from the inside, there’s a pit Reacher Gilt fell into, and Moist von Lipwig obviously didn’t -- are there more ways towards “escape”? Where are all the secret tunnels?

The  gardens were designed by “Bloody Stupid” Johnson. Anything else he made better?

What about the axe Sam Vimes buried in the middle of the table in one of the palace chambers? It’s still there as a conversation piece. What kind of conversations happen around it? Is there a feature about it in the newspaper? Does it start a trend in interior decorating?

WB: Children’s Literature

Susan Sto Helit likes to edit fairytales. Does she ever publish a revised edition? In the first edition of Grimm’s fairytale there is a story called “How Some Children Played at Slaughtering” and it’s exactly what you would expect. Does Susan tell this story? Does she get protesting parents, and how does she deal with them?

There are some children’s books with barely changed villains based on real politicians. Is there one with Lord Vetinari featuring as the bad guy (or maybe the hero)?

How about “Where’s my cow?” -- does the story change when Sam’s son grows older? It got reviewed by the Ankh-Morpork Times -- does the newspaper have a regular children’s literature page? Is the version Sam Vimes tells his son the one that Rob Anybody reads in the chalk? Does that book have a fan community (what would that even look like?)

WB: Newspaper Articles

Page Six -- Ankh-Morpork style: Do they report on what kind of beer upstanding citizens drink? Is there a column for where Sam Vimes is expected to be today?

It’s not technically a newspaper, but Twurp’s peerage lists nobility without judgement, and I would love to read an entry for any of the people nominated.

Does the Times report on itself sometimes? What about reporting on the new tax system? Do they ever have to deal with computers and the Internet?

Are there other newspapers? Do they report about the same events differently? Are there opinion pieces from weird people? Do they get letters to the editor?

Obituaries: Is there an upcoming deaths section for wizards and witches? Do they invite people to their death celebrations? How do they deal with the Undead?

Rivers of London

This book series is so rich with details, and it’s amazing. If there’s any of my ideas you absolutely disagree with, feel free to ignore them and focus on something else instead! 

Characters: No characters, Original Characters

Prompts:

WB: The White Library (Rivers of London)

Bibliotheca Alba

I’m not really sold on the location of Meckenheim. Convince me? To explain: Peter and the Professor talk about it being in the city of Cologne (the capital city back then) until the French invaded, then moved it to Weimar (the capital city of the Weimar Republic and also the Third Reich), upon which it was moved to Bonn (the capital of West Germany). That is utterly ridiculous. Weimar was under occupation by the Russians at that time, and like hell they would have given up that kind of power, and the capital city of people’s mind remained in Berlin. Bonn was a rather puny city, and only became the capital because Konrad Adenauer (the first head of state) happened to be born there. There is a library housing every work in german language published since 1918, and it’s split into two locations: one in Frankfurt am Main, the other in Leipzig. But maybe it’s different for the magical part? Still, who in his right mind would want to have a magical library in Bonn? Nobody, that’s who. Also, a strong contender for where a magical library could be housed: Bielefeld, the city that doesn’t exist

this leads me quite nicely to, how did they move a large amount of magical books from Weimar to Meckenheim during the post-war confusion? were other magical being involved?

also would love a library catalogue, how a magical library looks, a non-human librarian

WB: the London Underground

Is the Underground sentient, and if so does it eat other things besides people? 

What kind of traditions, stories do the pale people have? are they human? do they know?

WB: Magical Trade

I’m sure there’s plenty of clothing and accessories needed to ensure the masquerade works, and the magical population isn’t outed as such. Where do they go buy clothes? Is there advertisement?

Did the Folly police magical markets, back when there were more of them? Are there anti-fraud spells, or artefacts? If the Folly didn’t regulate this kind of stuff who did/does? 

Do people trade with the fae? How does that work - does it ever work out in favour of the human?

Do the Rivers sometimes trade on their territory?

WB: Demi Monde

what other strange people are there? What about genii locorum of bridges, streets, buildings

do places with a lot of magic gain sentience? How about the Folly? Skygarden?

there are hedge wizards, what about hedge witches? are there sirens? People who see the future? what about that marketplace where Zach Palmer was found, are all of them magical? how do they blend in? (Do they blend in?) 

Are there like, Werewolves of London? (around in Chinatown, hungering for some chinese food)

What about magical tourists. Do they get a pamphlet on where to find like-minded people? Is there a magical tourism bureau, staffed by idk, the River Crane?