#maybe Isabeau dies too

[generaltraitor]

Pacific Rim Au where Isa and Belle are Drift compatible pilots. Odile is a mechanic. Bonnie is basically the groups adopted kid (orphan). Siffrin is a potential pilot who's never been drift compatible (cuz they don't talk about their issues). Time loops start after Mira dies fighting a Kaiju (The King)

[artilite]

fuck you *lethal companies your in stars and time*

(long) exposition under cut (spoilers for ISAT + lethal company logs)

This au takes place around the time of sigurd's logs/before them (i haven't decided if Sigurd's crew exists here or not yet)!

Siffrin was someone who used to live on the Golden Planet before it got eaten. They may not remember anything beyond being found in an escape pod, but they're still paralyzed by fear when getting close to the selling window. He's always first in the facilities, making jumps, braving traps, and heading as deep as he can for scrap.

Mirabelle and Isabeau are the medic and fighter respectively, who both came from the same moon colony. They were both pressured into taking jobs by a work-based society, and applied for the company under the impression that it was a short, high-paying internship with nebulous risks.

Odile is their resident ship manager. She keeps a watchful eye over everyone and relays information about monsters, scrap, etc. In absolutely dire situations, she may come help with scrap. Despite claiming to be a first-timer, her badge says Leader??

Nille and Bonnie ended up with the crew after taking a chance to run away from their parents. Seeing a high-paying job that provided everything and would take them far away sounded too good to pass up. Nille lied about Bonnie's age to take them with her. After seeing the reality of this job, though, she regrets not finding another way out. Bonnie is permanently on ship-duty; they mainly type in whatever numbers Odile tells them. Nille is also a fighter, though she prefers the weighty stop sign as opposed to Isabeau's shovel.

Loop, after hundreds upon thousands of quotas, dying every possible death, learning everything they could- even the real identity of The Company- realizes there was one thing they've never done before. They've never died to The Company. Desperate for a way out, and haunted by the whispers and screams beyond the wall, they give themselves up. Maybe that would finally satisfy the monster- to have devoured every last piece of the Golden Planet. Maybe their crew could finally rest easy that way. Well, they didn't loop back. But through the dark and damp, there's static on the walkie talkie. Loop picks up, and hears their own voice just beyond the wall.

(Loop's design is the most different by far, since instead of consuming a star, they themselves are slowly getting digested. They're inspired by the visual of red crying faces from the logs :D)

[auncyen]

Bonnie looping au where the first loop has them freaking out about Frin having died in front of them and they have no idea what happened/how to explain it so the adults are kind of like. They really try to understand. Time Craft is impossible. The best understanding they have is "we've been horrible terrible irresponsible adults and Bonnie is traumatized?? Possibly afraid Siffrin's going to be hurt again?" so they have. A talk. And Bonnie wakes up to a clocktower empty save for a villager who tries to explain to them that everyone wanted them to rest so they'd feel better, maybe Odile wrote out an explanation behind the decision (and Isabeau and Mirabelle might've added apologies) but Bonnie's not reading any of that they run out of the clocktower through Dormont north all the way to the House yelling but it's already too late.

Bonnie freezes outside the House crying.

Bonnie spending the next loop angry and upset at everyone but still trying to figure out how to keep Frin from dying so they just. bluntly tell everyone at dinner that Frin shouldn't be trap finder. They have to think there's a way past the trap but Frin didn't find it so they've been trying to reason why Frin didn't find it and...oh. His eye. That's why. They feel sick with guilt, but it just makes them more sure they have to say something that the others will believe. And it's easy to point out that Frin is half-blind now, even if it feels awful.

Siffrin probably tries to reassure Bonnie that no, it's fine, really, he's got it covered! which just gets Bonnie more worked up and making angrier comments and people are trying to calm Bonnie down, but, it gets too heated. Or maybe someone else makes a comment that Bonnie might have a point. And Siffrin gets upset and walks out.

Where Siffrin's going: to look at the stars and empty their mind for a bit, breathe in, breathe out, and then go back and try to pretend everything's fine because like, what else are they going to do? Their friends need their help saving Vaugarde tomorrow.

Where Bonnie thinks Frin's going: away forever, they finally made him hate them, now everyone else is going to hate them too because even if Frin doesn't find traps as well now they were still helping fight and now what are they going to do, everything's going to freeze again Nille will never move again and--

They loop back to the start of the conversation. Belle tilts her head curiously, asks them what they were going to say and they just. cry for a bit and then insist "nothing" when everyone prods with concern. The adults are very worried about this but still take Bonnie to the House with them in the morning, probably doublechecking with them first if they still want to come with, no one will be upset if they don't, etc. and Bonnie is like "NO I'M COMING WITH" and then quiet all the way to the House, thinking about the Death Corridor.

When they get to the corridor, the second Odile's attention is off Bonnie, they dart ahead of Siffrin to search the next set of pillars. Because if it was because of Frin's eye, they should be able to see it, right? And as long as they stay next to the pillars they don't think they'll get squashed by the big rock but they're shaking so badly because they really could get squashed by the big rock and everyone's yelling and chasing them because Bonnie??? and in the brief moment before someone catches Bonnie and pulls them back to the side, the Corridor's trap doesn't trigger because every single person in there is terrified, and Bonnie finds something on the pillar they were frantically patting down. They ignore everyone else being upset and keep shouting at Frin where the switch is until they find it as well, gesture for everyone to stand back, and hit it.

After the boulder falls, the room is silent. for maybe two seconds.

And then Bonnie gets the lecture of a lifetime with four people being like "Bonnie you scared the daylights out of us what were you thinking". They probably tell about Frin dying to the boulder again because they don't know what else to say, and they're afraid the others won't believe them again but like the big rock is right there, and everyone's just. Kind of. ...Time Craft is still impossible but also Bonnie has usually been about as composed in dangerous situations as you can expect a preteen to be, and also, even if this is some kind of emotional outburst that's been building up because they were horrible terrible irresponsible adults and allowed the preteen in their care to be traumatized, well, they are already in the Sadness-filled House so there is now no place safe to leave Bonnie. Everyone knows that, so it doesn't even come up.

That loop probably continues until it ends, not with Bonnie pushing Frin into a Tear, but 'Za trying to be a goof and "oh no I'm not looking where I'm going" straight into one.

...Bonnie getting into a pattern, at least at first, about keeping quiet about the time loop until they get to the Death Corridor and then being like "Frin, the switch is on that second pillar on the right. When you hit it a big rock will fall in this spot, so everyone else needs to stay here" and everyone being like "..........well okay Siffrin you heard the kid, check out that pillar" and then after the rock falls "Bonnie how did you know that" and THEN they talk about the time loop.

But. maybe they don't talk about how they're feeling for a while, even with the adults realizing "a time loop that keeps ending badly cannot be good for Bonnie" and trying to encourage them to talk. Because that first loop still hurts.

[vulpixisananimal]

(. . .)

(What. WHAT. What do you have to say! I KNOW you have something!)

(. . .)

(We're back here again. AGAIN. After ALL THAT WORK. Do you have NOTHING to add to that?)

(Using the blinding dagger to get us back here. STARS. You want to protect Siffrin and you do things like THAT. Disgusting. You're Terrible, TERRIBLE! TERRIBLE!!!)

(And now we're stuck here! Again! Stardust can't come out because of that BLINDING MIND CRAFT. YOU I can't even trust to be sensible, and we blinding KILLED SOMEONE LAST LOOP!!)

(And you have NOTHING to say?!?)

(. . . It left, didn't it. Stars. . .)

(Even if it was annoying, a danger, stupid, whatever. It, it was someone to talk to. Stars.)

(You breathe in, and out. Let's just get this over with.)

(You open the bathroom door just as Isabeau knocks on it.)

"O-oh! Morning Sif!" (He doesn't remember.)

(You look up at him. What was your next line again? He was going to ask if you were ok and- You know what, no. You need this.)

(You hug Isabeau.)

"O-oh!!!" (After a second, he hugs you back.) "Is, is everything alright?"

(No. Nothing was alright. How do you explain this to him? How do you tell him you killed his friend. How do you tell him you're not who he thinks you are. You can't!! That's the punchline!! You couldn't get accross what you were feeling in a thousand Loops!! But what does that matter, you needed this.)

(. . . Was it selfish? Maybe. Maybe. . .)

(You made Stardust promise not to screw up with their family again. If you couldn't get that happy ending, they could at least. You still remember that fight, you still remember loosing. You still remember wanting to tear out Siffrins throat and stab him through the heart.)

(And now you were here, forced to see that happy ending play out while you, once again, are relegated to stagehand!!!)

(You're starting to cry.)

"No." (You finally say. Hugging a bit tighter.)

"Aw Sif, could I-"

"S-shut up." (You're crying more.) "Just, just shut up!"

". . . Sif. ."

"Don't call me that!" (You can't stop yourself.) "Every blinding time, every time you come check on us, to talk to him! And I have to sit back and pretend!! Pretend to be that happy Siffrin you all like!! Just so we can maybe get out of this BLINDING day!!!"

(Isa doesn't respond.)

"And now you probably think I'm crazy! Oh look! Siffrins gone all loopy~ TEE HEE! LOOPY~ Maybe they finally cracked!"

"S-. ." (He stops himself.) "I, I don't think that."

"Of course you do! Tee hee~ After all what else could, you. . ." (You look up at him finally, and stop.)

(He's. . . He's crying too.)

(There's a silence before he speaks up.) ". . . I. . . I don't, I don't know what you're going through right now but. . ." (He's looking for the right words.)

". . . . I'm sorry." (You finally say.)

"It's alright." (He respons, putting a hand on your head.) ". . . Do you want to talk about it?"

(You burry your face in his shirt and mumble.) "Maybe. . ."

"Did. . . Have you been looping again?"

". . . Yes."

"How long? And, and why?"

"Today, this is 8 or 9, I think. Looping because a defender, friend of yours, using mind craft on us. Keep trying to stop it."

"Oh. . ." (Isabeau gently scritches your head. It's nice.) "And, I'm guessing there's a lot more details to that?"

(You nod. Your breathing is steadying, finally.)

"Alright." (There's a pause.) "And uh, something, bad happened last loop I'm guessing?"

(Your breath catches, and you take a second to reply.) ". . . Yes."

"What was it?"

". . ."

". . ."

". . . We, we confronted your friend, they're going by Ramos now, and, and they turned into a sadness."

"And we died?" (He tried finishing.)

"No, we won. But Ramos, they. . . they. . ."

(There's a pause, then Isabeau hugs you tighter.) ". . . That, that sounds aweful!"

"You're not angry? Or, or scared?"

(Isa shook his head.) "I'm, well, I'm greatful and proud, proud that you came back to today even if you won to try again, but. . ." (Another pause.) ". . . I'm, a little scared, scared if Ramos is ok, and even more scared about if you're ok."

"Hehe. . ." (That's. . . Reasuring at least. You finally pull back a bit from the hug.) "I have had to deal with your memory getting changed, Mira getting accused of kidnapping Bonnie, Nille getting K.Oed by Ramos in one hit, oh stars I haven't even mentioned that looping is giving us craft exhaustion~"

"That's. . ." (Isabeau looks. . . Surprisingly okay? What a strange man. . .) "That does sound like a lot, but, I bet we can deal with it! Right? How many loops did you say it took in Dormont?"

"176~" (You say, now smiling slightly. You really WERE loopy.) "Give or take a few dozen."

"Then lets beat that record then!!" (Isa struck a heroic pose, it made you giggle.)

"Well it'll take a while to get to 177, but-"

"NO!!! NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!"

(You both laugh, oh, stars. You stumble Forward, light headed. Isabeau catches you.)

"Aw no, you sure you'll be alright?"

"Maybe..." (You take a breath. You DO feel exhausted. Last loop was the first time you properly fought something, and Mal Du Pays decided to go all out. You probably where slowly getting yourself killed with all this craft.) "Just, tired, and hungry."

"Do you want to go lie down? I could carry you back to your room if you want." (He was looking at you so sincerely.)

"I. . ." (That, sounded really nice, but.) "I need to explain this to everyone, and make sure they're ready, and think of a plan and-"

"Later, we have time! And you look beyond exhausted."

"But I need to-"

"If you try and push yourself I will pick you up and carry you to your bed."

(You look away. Ok. That DOES sound nice, you can't deny it. Stars. Why was he being so nice to YOU?)

". . . You, I'm, you do understand I'm not-"

"Oh! I guessed as much don't worry."

(WHAT?!?)

(You snap your head back. He could tell?!?! Oh stars you were REALLY rusty. Then again, you did just have a huge breakdown.)

(Isabeau saw your look and continued.) "W-well, Siffrin talked about all this yesterday, so I was thinking about it all night. And so when you ran to the bathroom this morning I wanted to make sure you were ok because, well, I was worried. . ."

"Tee hee. . ." (Defeated, you lean on Isa and start walking back to your room.) "It's, it's Loop. By the way."

"Glad to see you again, Loop." (There was a pause.) "a-and, uhm, sorry."

"Sorry?" (You asked.)

"I-if, if me and Sif ever, made you, y'know, uncomfortable..."

"Oh!" (Ah right. The PDA. Those two idiots had yet to kiss, but they got close. You were around sometimes for that. Well, sometimes it was JUST you around.) "O-oh! Nope! Nooooo issue all!"

"OhthankChangeok" (He sighed in relief.)

(He helped you back to your room, you didn't realize just how exhausted you were. When you got there you practically collapsed onto the bed.)

"I can get you breakfast!"

"Please, I think a quesadilla would fix me."

"Oh! Is that what Bonnie made today?"

"Every time, tee hee~"

(You both laugh, Isa goes to the door, but pauses a moment.) ". . . If. . If you ever do want to talk about, well, anything. . ."

". . . I'll, I'll think about it."

"Thanks, be right back, Loop."

(. . . Why is it that a bed only makes your body hurt more.)

(You close your eyes, you're so tired, Stars, you're so, so tired. You just need, need a rest. . .)

[lucabyte]

i am looking at nohats au 👀 please share more

So! NoHats! I'm going to grab you and use this to ramble. A Lot.

The NoHats AU is @samhainian's it's just that I'm the strange little freak who takes the words said unto me and executes on them. But I can still do a little explainer on what our overall thoughts and vibes are. (And, that we are in fact propping up a little box with some cheese under it here. 🪤 Please (PLEASE) feel free to pick up what we're putting down.)

We're far from the only ones exploring a "what if siffrin fucking died" AU, though the main difference with NoHats is the placement of the death in the timeline. Instead of being 'Mal Du Pays Wins' or 'Act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong', the death is… Just after the (literal) falling action.

(This placement is because Sam is a comic book fan who thus has become used to characters being ripped away at the cruelest times by shitty writers. THANK FUCKING GOD adrienne is not that and isat is delightful yippieee, but, back on topic.)

Giving the party the full understanding of What Happened that you get by putting the death after black hole siffrin, but before the A6 encounter leaves an interesting gap to be filled. See, making Siffrin's death very much not Loop's fault means that… this once again reads (when not read as simply a tragedy...) as the universe doing what it sees fit to fulfull Loop's wish… Thus making Siffrin's death Loop's fault again, but only in their eyes. And only in a way they could express if they were honest about who they were…

And this is where having had excuse to waffle about my general Postcanon Loop thoughts the other day comes in handy, because Sam and I have that as our canon-compliant reading to begin with, NoHats plays off of a lot of the same readings of Loop's character. Namely: Uh Oh Somebody's Lying By Fucking Omission Again. (BECAUSE TO BE FAIR THIS TIME… HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU HANDLE THAT?)

Now, neither Sam nor I are fanfic writers, so this has been a little bit trapped in our heads and DMs (and my unfinished art but,)

But our thoughts on how NoHats like… Goes.

Siffrin's death is peaceful, but that does not mean the aftermath of it is. I can't imagine the party takes it well, especially after understanding the circumstances of the Loops. (And, of note, in A5 where nobody had the discussion on what to do with each other's bodies should something happen…) But I'd imagine it traumabonds them somewhat (understatement of the century) and now knowing how the rest of the party feels, they resolve to travel together for the forseeable future.

The party track down Loop to deliver the terrible news, since they were clearly Siffrin's friend too, and invite Loop along to travel at least long enough to (let them grieve) get the burial over with. Loop, here, can be helpful in knowing what Siffrin would've wanted where the party would be at a loss. Loop, I think, takes a bit of a lead on the funerary aspects of it all, because, um. (Performing rites on your own body, huh?)

Then, as things are after a death, life just… Kind of has to continue on as normal. The party travel, pick up Nille, and get to know Loop as this mysterious new person. Maybe in this situation they might stay in Bambouche for a while to give Bonnie more stability since. They are probably taking it the worst. It would've come out of absolutely nowhere for everyone in the party obviously but god, for a kid? For A Kid?

It should be stated NoHats is not intended to be grimdark, just y'know. An exploration of grief. This is also why it's got a bit of a lopsided focus on Bonnie vs the rest of the party because hhrrhghghhghghhhghhghhh <- incoherent

Now, a crossroads.

How does the party discover Loop to be Siffrin? How long does it take. How much have the party embraced them as part of the family (especially with something as intense to bond over as this)?

There's the Odile option. Have her put it together and have to bring it up somehow. This could also be done by Isabeau, perhaps. He's smart. (which. God. If anything's the real Isabeau Torment Nexus it's this)

Then there's the other option batted around by Sam and I. The: The Universe Dislikes Duplicates option.

The items in the house that fzzt away when inspected. The Universe doesn't like there to be two of something, at least not when they're acknowledged. But one of something is just fine…?

Which is to say. I'm not a personal proponent of 'Loop getting their body back'. EXCEPT …… except this one time.

There's only one Siffrin now, so they don't need to be obfuscated to exist.

Consider, if you will. Loop swallowing their guilt for long enough to be comfortable. Falling back into old habits. Without another Siffrin around to compete for the niche of, they actually begin to act like Siffrin again. Not intentionally, it's just… The party is as welcoming as they've always been. And the party swears they keep catching glimpses of a face under all the light.

Then, one day, while still not fully human again, the resemblence becomes undeniable. Loop having not even noticed until everyone looks at them like they've seen a ghost.

Has it been months? How long have they kept up this lie? Is it even a lie, to them? They're Loop. But they were, once, Siffrin.

Even after explaining it, does that make it better or worse?

Bonnie cuts through the betrayed, struck-nerve reactions with a sobering "I missed you."

… Anyway !

Yeah so that's the vibe for NoHats. As for LoopLoops? That's more nebulous. I think it can go anywhere really in the NoHats timeline. I err personally toward the "Loop continuously replays the last 10 minutes before Siffrin's death almost immediately after they find out and have to parkour their ass up the House in the most distressing situation possible to try and get them to hold on, just please hold on." (Remember! Siffrin can remember the contents of Loop's loop backs in the A6 fight!)

But there is the possibility that this happens months, or worse years down the road. One last Loop back. Throw it all away for the chance to just get that one thing you didn't know you even wanted but now know you NEED.

Misc:

Okay miscellaneous time.

This is where I admit that I have a bunch of unfinished NoHats art that I haven't gotten around to yet because I feel like a right tool being so obviously Loop-Centric with my fancontent (I AM . . I REALISE I AM NOT DOING MUCH TO BEAT THE ALLEGATIONS.) So like if people want to see that please say because euaghghghhfh <- the nervous.

this is like the most fucked up place to do isaloop fr. anyway.

one of Sam's mid-game observations that I'm just going to share for no particular reason is that Bonnie's hair shares a bunch of shapes with Siffrin's. The flick up at the top, the 3 pronged shape of the fringe… just something to think about.

Without 2 Siffrins around to compare each other to it'd likely be a lot harder to notice Loop's similarities. Doesn't mean that those similarities don't sting more in this context though.

If you do NoHats without LoopLoops. The concept of this all fading into memory years down the line while they just have slightly-glowy but otherwise regular Siffrin hanging out is fucked up to think about. Just like real grief. Augh

6. a peek into the original dms as a treat from us

[aluria-sevhex]

ToT Bonnie i love you but that is not how it's pronounced

NOW FOR MY NOTES, COPIED FROM MY NOTES APP INSTEAD OF SCREENSHOTTED THIS TIME (edit: put it under a read more because long)

ACT 2

-THE TIPS ON HOW TO PLAY ARE FUCKING DIAGETIC?

-"stardust" are you the starhead bitch from the trailers

-i feel like i'll have to ask the librarian for a book eventually

-THE RUNNING ONE IS CALLING OUT SIF LOL (for running from his problems) (hmmmm Sif what problems r u running from?)

-ugh. it's the starhead bitch

-plot twist the star head is Siffrin and that's why he's depressed :P

-their name is Loop. i don't trust them

-"Yeah, better know this one's pronouns so you can think very clearly in your head that they're getting on your nerves."

-LOOP CAN READ THE PROFILES? WHAT KIND OF META BULLSHIT IS THIS </positive i fucking love meta bullshit>

-hm is Loop some sort of weird representation of the player. or a god.

-learn WHAT?

-hm feel like this game might explore some of the moral iffiness that tends to arise with time loops. is a friendship genuine if one person knows exactly what the other will say?

-"don't eat pineapples. you're allergic" fuck you. i WILL eat pineapples and i WILL enter anaphylaxis and i WILL die stupidly but it will be WORTH IT

-WAIT HOLD UP WHAT WAS THAT DIALOGUE IN THE >> TUTORIAL "don't make the same mistakes i did" I THINK THAT'S WHAT THEY SAID HOLD UP

-maybe Loop was a normal person who got stuck in a time loop for too long and fucked up somehow? and that's why they're like this

-idk if i'll zone out much i don't wanna miss any differences

-altho if there's a difference won't i zone back in?

-then again there's a lot of dialogue

-maybe this will be plot-important somehow?

update after being gone for a bit:

-Tears weewoo

-SIFFRIN SAID NYA

-side note i am so glad i fought that thing that dropped the crest even tho it was hard. fighting it again on future loops is gonna suck tho

-also fun fact right after i died to the Tears i ran ahead and accidentally got crushed by the rock again. which i think is bullshit because I RAN TO THE SIDE OF THE ROOM

-back to more important things. like Siffrin saying nya. or the thyme pun.

-ODILE SAID IT. look she has a phd or whatever equivalent there is here probably, she's like 40, i think she's earned the right to do whatever the fuck she wants

-Isabeau is AOBB (Assigned Omelette By Bonnie)

-"It'd be awful to keep yourself from becoming a person you feel comfortable with just because it would upset someone else."

Breaking news: the game where the protagonist uses he/they, two other major characters use they/them, and there is a conversation explicitly referencing pronouns and giving them, unsurprisingly supports trans rights

-BONNIE DO NOT EAT THE EGG KEYCHAIN

-BONNIE HAS A WOK >:D

-uh... why are the Vaugardians freaking out over crab. does the Change religion ban it?

-Vaugarde is weird. first, they have a VERY SPECIFIC RULE where entering the FIRST ROOM of a house is fine, but any further is rude. second: crabs??? ok i guess???

-an openphrase... ya mean a password?

-fuck it i am fully in "taking gratuitous extensive notes" mode

-hehe protector craft is gullible :P

-oh hey tasteful artistic nudes. so this room's resident is an art student. hopefully their grasp of anatomy was improved :]

-Mira said what the crab instead of what the hell

-"what the CRAB did you let Bonnie do when we said no!!!"

-YOU LET THE PRE-TEEN DRINK VODKA???

-LMAOOOOOOOO IT WAS WATER. I LOVE HOW MUCH OF A LITTLE SHIT SIFFRIN IS

-checked it again. the people are "doing fun things" eh so what if an art student draws porn, that's on me for peeking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ still hope it improved their grasp of anatomy. if the anatomy was bad and the narration didn't tell me i would be disappointed in it :P

-ooo drawn tarot card. isn't the Six of Swords a bad one? i feel like it's foreshadowing somehow but i don't feel like looking its meaning up

-i fucking hate the triplet Sadnesses they're so annoying

-the reason the Mandela Effect with Berenstein/Berenstain happened is because Sif equipped the e

-OH? saving records party progress if you loop back to that spot :0

-yippee i beat the Sadness boss that changes its type (this is like the first enemy that does that i think)

-Mira are you hungry

-YEAH LET'S FUCKIN' EAT

-this question keeps popping in my head but where the fuck IS Siffrin from plot twist the kid was right and he's from the sky idk i'm saying random shit

-SNACK TIME

[tobiasdrake]

That's everyone. Time to check out the Favor Tree, then we're on to the Clocktower meetup.

So how's this work? Do I just tell the tree what I want? Do I yank off a leaf and then write my request on it?

I dunno. Given that the rules are lax enough that a Favor Tree is as simple as "the biggest tree nearby" I think there's probably some leeway here. There may not be any particular rules for how we're supposed to pray to it.

Then again, that is the kind of logic that leads to the Bystander Effect. If everybody thinks like that and then nobody wishes for Vaugarde's salvation, that's a whoopsy-doodle. So it's better to inconvenience myself, at the risk of redundancy, for the sake of locking in aid for people in crisis.

Of course, it's not impossible to have your cake and eat it when it comes to wish-granting. All of these potential wishes are things that my team wants to do once the King has been defeated. Granting a wish for these things necessarily requires that Vaugarde be saved.

Therefore, I can wish for something for myself that nonetheless adds the strength of my wish to whatever existing pool of wishes towards Vaugarde's salvation already exists! This is what we call "gaming the system".

And while I wish the best for everyone, there is one person whose desires matter more than anybody else's.

Odile, Maribelle, and Isabeau all have dreams and ambitions for the future. That's great. I'm happy for them. But Bonnie doesn't. Bonnie has trauma. If I'm going to spend a wish on anyone, it's going to be for Bonnie to be healed.

If only one of us can have what they want, it should be them. A lost child's wish to save their family is worth more than gold.

Okay PARTY TIME

Alright y'all, come clean. Who ripped the bread in half and just left it on the table like that?

Or. Wait. Is that the bread, of "breaking bread"? Did we literally break bread? And then not eat it?

Are... are you supposed to eat it? Is it rude to break the bread and then not eat it? Or is it sacrilegious to eat broken bread? I feel like the bread's just going to waste if you don't eat it. But maybe it's a holy gesture? Maybe the act of letting the bread go stale... symbolizes its Change from a state of freshness to a state of badness.

Or maybe one of us here is just a dipshit who doesn't understand the phrase. Looking at you, Isa. On the "Risk of Dipshit" Scale, you're Suspect #2.

Suspect #1 is me but I'm, like, 65% sure I didn't do it.

You made the entire feast all by yourself? I am simultaneously very impressed with you and also tremendously disappointed in the rest of us. Four grown-ass adults and not one of us pitched in to assist the child in the kitchen. I am ashamed of every single one of us.

SPEECH SPEECH SPEECH SPEECH

Uh. No. Appreciate the sentiment but you're wrong. I don't know if you have Pocket Notes on the stakes of this thing but "Everyone dies tomorrow" isn't something people get to opt out of.

I know you don't want to think of membership in this crew as compulsory but... it kind of is. Our options are "Roll the dice tomorrow" or "Find a nice place to die". The latter of which is something most of the town is actively preparing for.

People are capable of tremendous acts of selfless courage when they have no hope of survival. With that in mind, I intend to be very brave tomorrow. There's only one place to do that.

You know, I'm used to rousing campfire speeches having a lot more swearing, raging narcissism, and thematically inappropriate criminality. But this is nice too. All-a y'all are swell. I'm happy to be a part of this.

My dude, I was wide awake. I slept all day today. I was just trying to be politely still so everyone else can sleep, while quietly going over Rock Paper Scissors strategies in my head.

The trick is to not throw the wrong symbol. But to make them think you're going to throw the wrong symbol, so they play into your hands when you throw the right symbol. *sage wisdom*

I love you too, man. Still making sense of things too much to decide if that's romantic or platonic but one way or another we're tight.

Mm. Pillow beats Rock. Good to know. See, that is why I've been silently reviewing Rock Paper Scissors strategies.

Good night, Isa. We'll continue this talk on the day after tomorrow, so long as it comes to pass.

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

have you ever regret not having choosen another sim for a specific era? for example instead of kennedi maybe have sophie be the main sim in the roman era

Love this question!

I don't tend to find I have much choice.

For example, I actually intended to follow Sophie in the Roman Era... and then she died by being struck by lighting. So I made a pivot to Kennedi.

Another example for the Tudor era is that I loved Isabeau, but needed to play mainly as Cassian for the challenge goal of having a sim with the six wives of Henry VIII.

Now that I think about it, age, challenge goals and who survives end up meaning I only have one option anyway. I've genuinely never had to ponder who to choose as my heir. If anything, I pray a particular sim will get to survive so they can be my heir!

That might be too limiting for some, but I really prefer my story being heavily guided by gameplay. If I had to purely make it all up, I seriously doubt I'd have come up with the dramatic turns of events we've had up to now!

[wyvernwriterarchive]

OC WEEK DAY 7

Free Day/ Fun Facts!!

We are finally done! Yay!

This was a fun challenge. Thought I admit, it did distract me from writing about my other projects...so woops-

Anyway, to close this off, I wanted to give you guys some random fun facts about Taurn. Because I think it would be neat.

Past Developments

His original story was about him going to an East Asian inspired country, meeting the locals, and stopping his dad from colonizing it. His arc was centered around controlling his anger to not hurt his loved ones. Also, his dad... wasn't even an emperor OR abusive. He was just... a dick ig.

Actually, in some iterations, his father was cowardly? For some reason??

"Taurn" used to be the name of the country he was from. His original name? Taur. Yep...just the same name without the N.

He used to have a peace loving younger sister who dies in the story to help him learn to control his rage.

Other Details

Since it's pride month, ig I should say that Taurn is bi! I dont actually currently ship him with any male main characters, other than Leon, but uhh... yeah!

Taurn is based on Hector (Fire Emblem 7), Diamant and Alfred(Fire Emblem 17), Isabeau (In Stars and Time),Akihiko, and Kazushi (Persona 3), as well as a few other characters, maybe.

He's a bit too easy to fluster when it comes to receiving affection. He gets really red in the face. It's because he's not really used to it.

He’s really warm. Both his hands and body are warm to the touch.

His pockets are usually filled with snacks for his friends.

Paladin/House Emblem is the head of the bull with the sun in the middle of their horns.

In the Persona AU version of him, he would be named Taiyou. His persona would be Samson,Heracles, and/or Atlas.

In DND/Pathfinder, he would be a Paladin/Champion.

Welp. Thats the end. Thanks for looking at my stuff! Feel free to check out my other stuff too!

[artsycloudysleepy]

no one cares but seeing as ISAT has me in a chokehold rn my fav characters in order:

Siffrin

Odile

Loop

Isabeau + Bonnie

Mirabelle

(i am SO sorry mira lovers i love her too it's just i like the others a lil' bit more pls don't sacrifice me /jk)

Reasons why:

(Spoilers for the whole game under cut! This includes the epilogue + 2hats + achievements! I go full-on infodump!!)

Siffrin - I love angst and I love happy endings. I also love seeing a character slowly lose their sanity. Act 5?? when they SNAP?? I was SO excited the whole way through. REVELLING in it. I loved seeing his facial expressions and wording change with each loop (esp the friends -> family -> actors pipeline). I LOVE analysing that stuff!! also i correctly predicted where they came from and did a little dance when confirmed so yay! (for the record i headcanon the Country as in-game version of France or a region nearby, just bc of Mal du Pays' name - fun fact, that translates to 'homesickness'! (cries))

(edit: i now know that Vaugarde is France so uh. idk anymore lol)

(also i'm a sucker for sickfics and delirious characters bc it's so tender and sweet and that scene in act 5/6/whatever?? the way everyone was so concerned for them?? the way that Sif was so desperate to fight the King and break the loops that they willingly went through the whole House, fought every monster by themself, hallucinated his family being there for him to the point he doesn't even originally see the actual photo of himself and instead sees the first photo the family took in the mirror?? not even the ones he faked smiles for, but the one he was genuinely surprised and joyful in??? the fact they were malnourished and burning up when they fought the King and tried anyway to get through it and were still coherent enough to be terrified their family would die?????? how-)

Odile - I got the Sus achievement bc I love other characters figuring another one out, and she's really interesting. I loved her constantly guessing that sif might be a bit off too. Her background made me SO sad and her and Sif's heart-to-hearts in the hangout and the epilogue made me really emotional. And she's kinda hot uhh and her Paper α V helped a lot lol (haha pls help i am a humble lesbian)

also her just wanting to sleep and ignore everyone's chatter at ungodly hours is such a mood honestly. she did not sign up for this lmao

(again the fever stuff with Sif sold me on Dile, too. her checking in on him and monitoring his fever?? the way she was quite obviously incredibly concerned and wanting to make sure they're at least physically okay bc their family dynamic is so strong now?? it destroyed me. I love her sm you have no idea)

Loop - They made me genuinely bawl. I am SO upset I didn't get their boss fight (i didn't know how to unlock it and had no backup saves), but i'll replay ISAT once recovered from looping 71 times. Their BG sold me, otherwise I would have ranked them maybe at Mirabelle's place? I like to think that post-game Sif found them again and forced them to be adoptive siblings. Loop awkwardly being dragged around by Sif who's just happy they're not the only traumatised Sif to exist

Isabeau - Puns. Crushing. Smart jock, buff nerd. What's not to love?? The relationship with Sif was surprisingly gripping - I knew I'd be invested in the gayness dw, but i was worried that would be all there is to his character or that he'd constantly be made the butt of a joke in that regard. but he wasn't!! and the jokes were funny (I loved Odile just third-wheeling constantly)! and the confession was beautiful. I am so happy that he also didn't rush Siff into a relationship: 'yh dw u kinda just died a bunch i'm not in a hurry for u to make up ur mind lol'. also transmasc isa :D

I think also how in Act 5 Isa was the only one to prepare himself for Siff's increasing mania and depression + willing to challenge him back to stand up for himself and their family really sold me. Like, he's not the oblivious crush who's like 'omg siff's amazing haha nothing they ever do is wrong' like some media portrays crushing ppl. He's very aware Sif is an incredibly flawed person (as all ppl are, but esp him at that moment), but he's also very aware that something is causing them to act like this and knows that staying calm and not shouting back is best. He knows they're suffering, even if he doesn't know the extent right then, and wants to help him however he can.

Bonnie - They're adorable and hilarious. I felt so guilty when I tried to feed Sif plantain chips (after getting the trigger about them) and the pineapple bc they were so happy?? and then Sif reacted to it negatively (in one case dying) and I felt SO AWFUL. And when the King killed them I genuinely was in shock. Hand over mouth. I knew 'children in peril' was a tw but I thought they might just get hurt/be in danger; not that (not a personal trigger so was okay with it dw). But I loved that twist. I did not expect that and it was so gripping!!

aaaaand then the Snack Leader is superior regardless! Plus I correctly predicted that they were part of why Sif's blind in one eye and how (guessed he jumped in to save them from a sadness) so i was chuffed at that. I also loved how they were written really realistically for a child their age - most media seems to portray pre-teens (tho i see Bonnie more as a 10.5-11yo who says they are a preteen anyway) as obnoxious/idiotic/babyish, or write their dialogue as if they have never spoken to or been a child in their life.

Mirabelle - OKAY I KNOW I'LL GET PPL MAD ABT THIS I'M SORRY. SHE IS THE AROACE ICON AND I LOVE HER BELIEVE ME! I just didn't really feel as strongly abt her than the rest?? idk i mean maybe it's bc i'm atheist and don't really relate to the religious narrative as much (the guilt over being aroace being tied to the Change belief). I related to her a lot on the aspec front, just less on the other part? so maybe she's just not the character i can relate to as much. Still, I love her and will protect her with my life 🧡💛🤍🩵💙

[ask-paperville]

1- like them all really, but Siffrin and Odile a bit more

2- the tutorial kid

3- secret one with loop if you know, you know.

4- memory of sadness? (Don’t remember for sure the name but the one where enemies run away from you)

5- like them all too, but for me events with Bonnie hit really close to me.

6- jackpot baby! As soon as possible.

7- those timelines where Siffrin dies and loop back are REALLY erased or they just continue without him? And what the hell happened to the island to north of Vaugard?

8- I would like to actually see all of their adventures, see Bonnie’s sister, see loop join to them, maybe even journey to the island…

9- I am 100 % convinced that colours disappearance and island erasure somehow connected, also I think that maybe those who stayed on island are still alive and live good and that wish to erase everything about island is a deliberate wish made by someone in power there to hide their technology or something from everyone.

10- like I said, the islanders are alive and well on their island. At least that I think.

11- it’s a bit sad but I head-cannon that those little crystals on Odile glasses are her father’s as in Ka-buan tradition on turning their dead into gems. Also Bonnie is definitely half islander because of few think I noticed like sometimes you can see little stars when they excited or the cat shaped eyes.

12- I was just a sucker for loops and time shenanigans, but this game changed that…

13- If I remember correctly I was on my 127 loop when I get to the last act.

14- most of Loops, and most of Siffrins. I actually like all the portraits really)

15- thinking about it, I can’t even think what would you even CAN change in the game everything work as intended I think even frustrating parts.

16- definitely rock type, I actually look like Isabeau minus buff. I don’t really like sport to be honest but I am not fat or skinny sooo yeah. Rock type it is.

17- pretzels.

18- what you feel when the game ended?

in stars and time ask game 🌌

1- favorite character?

2- favorite npc?

3- favorite soundtrack?

4- favorite memory?

5- favorite optional event?

6- do you have a battle strategy you’d like to share?

7- anything you’re still curious about in-game?

8- any post-game things you’d like to see?

9- any theories on unanswered questions from the game? (about the forgotten island, why colors disappeared, etc)

10- any headcanons about the in-game world? (about the forgotten island, craft types, just like. world building hcs, etc)

11- any character headcanons?

12- what got you interested in the game?

13- if you’ve played the game, how many loops did you do? if you’ve played it multiple times, whats the least amount of loops you did? the most?

14- favorite character portrait(s)?

15- anything you’d change about the game? be it game mechanics, a new feature, a change in plot, etc

16- what craft type do you think you’d be?

17- if you could have any of the snacks bonnie makes during the snack breaks, which would you choose?

18- free question!! send a question of your choice or treat this as an opportunity to let receiver ramble about anything they’d like

[flowerflamestars]

Effloresce: Secrets and Silence

I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI

Elain had fallen asleep just as the sun began to rise.

 No true excuse to have stayed awake- but, for the first time, Lucien had drifted off first. His head propped against hers, the arm extended along the back of their shared seat toppling to catch her waist. 

The glow of victory, settled to something softer. He was a furnace, shifting with every hour. Tangling their limbs together like in sleep, in this utter, foreign vulnerability, all Lucien sought was closeness. It kept Elain awake: a little too warm, her grin hidden against a shapely muscled shoulder.   Even High Fae as powerful as Lucien slept.   She known it, but it was another thing to see.   There were a hundred lies they’d told together. And this, her youngest, foolish sister, insisted was one of them. That Elain, because Feyre had a High Lord at her back, didn’t need the safety of a marriage.   A High Lord, blood bound in fact, not that Feyre could know it, to deliver on promises to safeguard the people of the whole ancestral Archeron lands.   A fact, that Feyre failed to see: that she’d doomed them so thoroughly that the entire damning list of lies for humans would cease to matter, that Elain and Nesta would lose their mortal lives no matter what came next. Respectability wouldn’t matter, not the gentry, not the arbitrary, entrapping rules.   It was too late.   That there was no guaranteed safety in the war to come, in the ancient feud coming to swallow the Archeron sisters whole.   They could lie all they wanted, would fight every way they knew how, but in the end, there was only this- Elain didn’t know how long she had to live.   She’d never known how long she had, what decades would come.   She didn’t know what would be safe, in the choices she and Nesta and Lucien were making.   But there was a safety she wanted, and it was this. Lucien’s arms around her. His sly voice and teasing smile, the burr of an accent in tiredness, telling her of faery knowledge. Joking with Nesta, who he loved too. Sharp teeth and hungry flames, ferocious loyalty- the family they’d made.   Elain wanted the ring on her finger, wanted it to be real.   So Elain was ready when sleep came. When she rose, untangled, to find her sister.

***

Nesta wasn’t in the library.   Her office, the kitchens, her secret, glorious armory beneath the ground. Not even her bedroom, the location of which Cassian had shamefully memorized by sheer scent.   She wasn’t anywhere, and the last time he’d seen her she’d been covered in blood.  Azriel had seen her, come back and laughed in Cassian’s face, in fact, a drink in hand. Promised that not only was Nesta Archeron alright, she was extraordinary. That Cassian was in trouble. Just enough assurance that Cassian was a twitchy wreck by morning, trying desperately to pretend he wasn’t stalking the palatial halls chasing the scent of fire. Ash wood. Anything of her- too densely laid in this place she lived to get a clear trace.   He couldn’t find her.   So it was with typical dramatic timing that Rhys found him. His High Lord- his friend, his brother, even when Cassian felt like pummeling him into the floor- Nesta, in the snow, in the storm, bleeding- who clapped him on the back like absolutely nothing was wrong.   Like nothing had changed.   “Breakfast with the allies,” Rhys had purred and led the way, Cassian helpless not to follow.   It could not have been clearer, as he pushed open the doors with a billow of darkness, that the comfortable little nook of a room where the eldest Archeron’s where cloistered, was private.   That Rhysand was absolutely not invited.   Warded in fact, Cassian would bet on it, magic a faint shudder in the air as Rhys strong-armed them both past the threshold. He sat down. Cassian, eyes on Nesta’s stilled, wrathful face, head still inclined toward Elains over a little table holding tea, stayed exactly where he was.   “Wards,” Rhysand drawled, legs kicked out, hands in his pockets as he leant back. “I thought we were all friends now, bloodshed settled. No need to hide, little Archerons.”   Crisp, clear as the fact Rhys was taking being thwarted as a call to be an absolute ass, Nesta made obvious effort to slowly set down her cup. “Do you misunderstand the concept of privacy as much as you clearly do friendship, Rhysand?”   Braced, Cassian still had to swallow a little flinch at the light laugh that followed.   Rhys hated her- but Nesta was going to slaughter him. High Lord, Feyre’s, promise bound or no, Cassian didn’t want to imagine what exactly retribution would entail from the eldest of the Archerons.   “Have you spoken to your sister today?”   It was Elain who answered, sipping her tea like nothing was wrong. “We’ll see her at breakfast.”   “Ah,” Rhys sighed, laying it on thick. “No.” Nesta’s lips had pulled back from her teeth, a low hiss echoing. “We’re going to head out to the woods to train. I think she could use the distraction. She has nightmares, you know. Being here, in the human world where she grew up. That she might lose another parent”-   “Feyre,” Nesta all but snarled, near faery- savage and utterly vicious, “Doesn’t even remember our life before. She doesn’t remember our mother. She has no idea what our father was like, who he was before the world punished him.”   Rhys had frozen at the horrible twist of Feyre’s name from her elder sister’s lips. Quick heartbeat fading out of his ears like a battle oncoming, Cassian fought the urge to get in between them as Nesta rose to her feet.   “You don’t know anything,” She said, devastating, a pillar of rage. Not for the first time, Cassian looked and thought, lllyrian.  “And I don’t owe you answers, High Lord.”   The title was an insult, sneered before she walked away, head held high.   An ugly twist had taken over Rhy’s face in response. Cassian sank down onto one of the comically plush purple chairs, the sigh that escaped him as he ran a hand through his hair buried in the sound of a distant door slamming.   He ignored the impulse to pull on it, and groan.   When Cassian looked up, he found Elain watching him. Still perfectly composed, for the first time he saw some of Nesta’s exact steel in the set of her shoulders.   If he hadn’t been startled into looking back he would have missed the breathe of a nod as she inclined her head- as though Elain Archeron, like her dream, nightmare, perfect sister also saw exactly what he was thinking across his Cauldron-damned face.   He also saw the moment that resemblance became even truer.   “Feyre told me your mother died fourteen years ago,” Rhys had reined himself in enough to speak softly to this sister, a less visible threat, “Her family name was Seren, yes?”   Elain’s face went colder than Cassian had imagined it could become, light draining from dark eyes. With perfect human manners, she sipped her tea and set it back on the saucer, before standing to smooth her skirts. “We do not say that name in this house.”   And she curtsied her goodbye.   But unlike her sister, she paused before sweeping out the door. The face Elain eventually turned back to Rhys was utterly level- frightfully so, Cassian had seen that look on High Fae courtiers.   Control, the equalizer: what made ageless High Fae a horror, what gave Illyrian’s a hold over killing power.   Elain’s was absolute, a slate wiped clean.   “Feyre doesn’t remember,” She said, calmly, “And she’s lucky not to."

***

Elain had taken a second over their now routinely fraught breakfast to tap the back of Lucien’s hand with her pinky, their standing signal to escape. It usually meant she wanted a break from the suffocating gentry, or to speak privately.   So he barely blinked when she walked into the library wrapped in a white fur cloak, and announced much to the benefit of the General glaring at him beside Nesta that the sleigh was waiting.   Without so much as a breath, Nesta stole the pen from Lucien’s hand and pulled the rest of the documents to her side of the desk. “Lady Isabeau hates to be kept waiting.”   There was no Lady Isabeau.   Nesta was saying get out- get away. Escape.  Concern, spooled tightly beneath Lucien’s ribs since he’d overheard Elain get in the last word with Rhysand from a room away, became a sickening weight when he sprang to his feet. Elain didn’t wait for him to offer his arm, her hand landing familiarly against his bicep, grip iron.   Automatically, Lucien curved toward her. Courtesy from the outside perhaps, but the closeness of his body also screened her white knuckles from Cassian’s view.   The Illyrian treated Feyre like a little sister. Fascinated by Nesta yes, protective of Elain perhaps, helpful- Lucien suspected of all this inner circle, Court of Dreams, Cassian was the one he might trust one day.   But not today, with Elain’s unhappiness sending him careening to the edge so fast Lucien could barely control his voice.   “Maybe if we’re late she’ll have run out of that wretched tea,” He carefully joked.   “Yes,” Replied Elain, dark eyes strange in her utterly contained, utterly cheerful face. Her grip would have left bruises on a human. “It does always taste of roses.” Roses. To Lucien roses were love- were home, not just a long lost mother- but the deepest red blossoms he’d ever found that he’d woven into Elain’s hair for midsummer. The smell had lingered on Lucien’s skin for days- roses and honeysuckle, embers and warmth.   It tasted like her laugh.   On that same night, Nesta putting white blooms in her own hair. A declaration of intent to the community that she planned never to marry at all. Together, the three of them had made that option safe for her.   Freed her and them both from the prison of human expectation, the rules they had to play by to survive.   Elain was telling him this was important.   Like they had a hundred times before, they swept from the room together, continuing the easy rhythm of meaningless chatter. A clean exit, a smokescreen- courtly grace and charm.   In their wake, Lucien could hear the shifting rustle of Cassian’s wings moving and re-settling, a near sure sign that Nesta had begun to smile.

***

Out in the frozen day, the newly fallen snow as even and thick as any Winter Court vista, Lucien guided draft horses in a steady clip down the road that led as easily to the Archeron’s forest as it did to the nearby estates.   Luckily, it had recently become fashionable for noble human men to drive their own curricles and sleighs.   Elain didn’t look at him until they’d cleared the house grounds. Onward, toward tenant farms and the warm stone buildings where cloth was woven, the smell of fires burning strong in the air. The whole world was dazzling whiteness, and her silence.   They were utterly alone in the still winter’s day.   Finally, Elain sighed. “Feyre,” She started and stopped, biting her lip.   Lucien directed the horses into a glade of trees, coming to a smooth halt hidden from the road. He’d thought it might be this. The complications of family that didn’t want to outright stab you were new to Lucien, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see the betrayal on Elain’s face every time Feyre mentioned their parents. Their father, who Nesta and Elain both so clearly despised.   That, Lucien knew very much about.   The reciprocal action the three of them banded together to accomplish: the entrapment of Feyre’s High Lord, a secret she would absolutely treat like vengeance. Selfishness. Feyre, who saw so very little, who believed absolutely that Rhys could and would, keep them all safe.   That there could be a difference between alive and alright under the authority of a High Lord had already, it seemed, melted from her memory.   “You don’t have to agree with Feyre,” Lucien said softly, “To make up for everything that’s happened.”   Surprise, warmer than any fire burning in his blood to protect him from this day, bloomed as Elain smiled.   She shook her head, curls slipping from beneath her hood. “That’s not it,” She said, cheeks dimpled, like somehow, Lucien had said the right thing.   He could charm and he could lie and he would do both for her- but this dance, this endless reel he no longer understood the tempo of- Lucien had lost track of where the story ended and his own enormous wanting began.   Friendship, affection, family, but-  He dreamt of her scent.   Bloodmoons nights across her skin, the impossible, deadly danger of Autumn’s might bound to this one mortal woman.   Of that damning scar on her wrist, hidden from their faery incursion only by the season. He knew exactly how she acquired it- but that didn’t stop his sleeping mind from conjuring much better, impossibly different circumstances.   Rumor had always been that Rhysand was of mixed blood, had been raised away from the High Fae gentry. Lucien had to hope it was true.   Not for his sake, but for Elain’s.   “What does Lady Ingrid say about our grandmother?” She asked him, throwing Lucien back into this snowy day with her.   Drawing him in.   Those nearly faery black eyes said, secrets. Clever, careful Elain. Said that there was one more Archeron mystery to join their covenant, the value of which Lucien would burn and burn for.     Lucien leaned against the padded sleigh seat to face her. “She mostly talks about how beautiful she was,” He said, gaze steady on Elain’s face, “She says you have her eyes, like your mother."   The amused breath Elain let out painted the air white. “I have Archeron eyes, actually.”   Here, where no one could see, Lucien gave into the urge to tilt his head like a predator. It wasn’t just human manners Elain and Nesta had mercilessly drilled into him- until Lucien could take them on and off like any garment- but body language that hid the extra flexibility and strength, utter stillness and instinct that said other.   He never hid the otherness from them.   Nor did they, his small, precious family, hide from him.   “Have you ever heard anyone mention our mother?” She asked him, those eyes- Acheron eyes- that he couldn’t imagine on the face of anyone else bright. 

Over-bright.   The part of himself that Elain made all the louder wanted to burn to the ground whatever had upset her. Ash and bone wasn’t enough. Whoever- Lucien suspect the dark couldn’t put out flames, anymore than he could burn it away. But Mother embrace him if he wouldn’t have tried.   Instead, he answered her. “Yes,” Lucien said, “There’s a story people tell, about her getting roses to bloom in winter. I assumed your greenhouses were built on the bones of hers, like the rest of the house.”   Again, Elain smiled, but finally, Lucien saw the sadness.   “No,” She murmured, “She made them bloom right up out of the snow.”   Lucien’s heart seemed to stop. Shuddering, to resettle somewhere around his throat.   “Lady Ingrid never knew your grandmother,” He heard himself say.   It was starting to snow again. Soft as a dream, flakes smaller than a fingertip made their slow, slow way onto Elain’s delicate shoulders.   “No, she didn’t,” Elain agreed. White billowing briefly in the air as she took a deep breath. “We didn’t realize until we rejoined noble society,” She began quietly, “But everyone seems to remember her strangely.”   Lucien didn’t have to ask to know she wasn’t speaking about her grandmother now.   “Everyone describes her just a little differently. Off. Or remembers the same events like they didn’t experience them at the same time or the same way.” She sketched a glance over his face. “Someone remembers the snow and drinking too much, someone else remembers a greenhouse- but everyone remembers the roses.”   Taking his own deep breath, Lucien reached out to brush some of the snow from the velvet and fur of her cloak. At her slightest lean, he settled one hand between Elain’s shoulder blades, buried in softness.   Her heart hammered beneath his palm.    “Glamour,” Lucien whispered.   The gift of all faeries, a natural toxin they could seep into the human world. Memories differed to the shape whoever remembering wanted most, magic safe in plain sight.   Roses, conjured alive out of ice.   Elain nodded. “I imagine it’s been fading since she died.” Her mouth twisted ruefully, lips bright as the flush of cold on her pale cheeks. “We just assumed it was safe, because Feyre still doesn’t remember.” Faery blood.   He’d dreamt of Elain, glowing with immortality, on full moon nights. Had the forest tried to tell him? Had wondered if maybe Nesta had some of the latent capabilities of a human witch- with the ease which her blood mixed with warding.  How much?   He remembered, all at once, Elain asking him if all magic smelled like fire after encountering some of his power.  How many years?   She could smell that- she could-   “Wait,” Lucien said, more to himself than Elain, “Feyre was glamoured? When you told Rhysand she was lucky not to remember- someone made her forget your childhood.”   Absently enough that Lucien would feel it again and again, Elain flicked snow from the front of his coat. Not a returned gesture- her comfort so great between them that Elain touched him like it was nothing.   Finally, the flakes temporarily cleared and her damp fingertips leaving lines down the deep grey of his coat, Elain met his eyes again. “Our mother made her forget.”

***

Nesta stayed in the library all afternoon, through dinner and into the cold evening.   For reasons Cassian wouldn’t quite let himself name, he stayed as well. Her usually stormy scent was awash with lightening now- anxiety coiled tight and controlled, but so much of it that it was nearly making him sick.   Nesta watched Elain and Lucien return through the wide windows, in silence.   Cleared what seemed like more correspondence than any Night Court official Cassian had ever met received. Not a word, only the weight of her eyes in acknowledgement as he slid beside her without invitation, melting wax for each missive before the press of the Archeron seal.   Wings, stars, a sextant- in bloody, beautiful red.   The hours passed in Nesta’s ceaseless steady motion, not a single outward sign of the tension that had begun to grown teeth as night fell.   Four chimes of the clock past sunset, Cassian, stupidly, found himself speaking. It felt like shedding skin. “I know something about the worst possible fathers.”   Straight-spined and so graceful she called to mind a wraith, drifting- but wraiths didn’t have so much steel- Nesta stood and crossed the room to one of the tall windows that made up the easternmost wall. Stopped there, deep cushioned seat before her ignored to stand.   Cassian honestly thought she wasn’t going to bother to answer. Braced himself for another silent nighttime hour, watching that relentlessly gorgeous, exhausted face grow pale, before her voice cut through the stillness.   “I imagine you would,” Nesta said, eyes on the falling snow.  “You don’t introduce yourself with any family name.” Slowly, like coming a long way back, Nesta turned to catch his eyes. “Because you don’t have one?” Bastard. That she didn’t say the word was the only thing that surprised Cassian- of course Nesta Archeron remembered every detail.   Joints locked, Cassian braced himself. For the word from her perfect mouth, maybe. For dismissal, for what had always been coming.   Instead, wavy hair, luminous in lamplight, fell across the sharp line of her jaw as Nesta tilted her head thoughtfully. Looked at him, leaning, wings tucked anxious tight, against the soaring shelves behind her slab of a desk.

“I’ve read about your people in books,” She said, after a long while. “There’s not a damn thing known about the Night Court. But Illyrians are a legend, as far away as the Weeping City.”   He wanted to memorize the sound of her saying Illyrian- had heard it a thousand times from the mouths of others, spit like any curse. The blood that ran so strong in Cassian’s veins it could never be denied- a burden. Lesser faeries. Savages. Something to be feared, above all else.

But from Nesta? Curiosity. Maybe he was imagining it- hoping it- but wonder?   Not the first time, Cassian imagined flying through the skies with her.   “You’ve been to the Weeping City?” Beneath the largest waterfall the world over, surrounded on all sides by three more. It was a continent away, the crown jewel of an old faery kingdom whose people believed their great stone monuments were carved by the hand of a mourning goddess- a beautiful place, where her tears would forever touch her people.   Nesta’s mouth twisted.   “No. But as you can see, faery gold buys lots of books."   Something in the bitterness- rage surely, but Cassian was learning that all of Nesta’s emotions wore the shape of rage, no matter what they were- made him ask. “What Rhys called you, Banfhlaith,” He repeated careful- as careful with her words as she’d been with Illyrian, “That’s your title?”   Nesta turned back to the window in a snap of movement.

“No,” She said, low, “I can never be Banfhlaith, Lady of the Archeron lands.” When he didn’t reply, Nesta laughed, an equally quiet, terrible sound. “Do Illyrian lords allow their daughters to inherit?” And Cassian couldn’t stand it.

“You and Elain take care of all those people,” The words burst out from where they’d had been sitting in his chest since that first time he’d argued with her.   Fought her- asininely unable to stay away, equally lacking the ability to resist challenging her- and flown away glamoured, deeper into Archeron lands. It didn’t calm him down, but eventually Cassian had landed on a snowy roof, so tangled in his thoughts he didn’t immediately realize he was surrounded by the noise of happy children.   Dozens of them, and women of all ages too, but more young ones than there could have been mothers.   Something molten in his bones, growing every minute, hadn’t let him leave.   So Cassian listened and watched. Found that Nesta Archeron- pillar of rage, warrior of a woman- had started a home for orphans. For women who didn’t have families- or did and needed to escape them. That the sister’s paid for doctors and teachers, clothes, and a sprawling home.   The building he was perched on was a weavers hall- Nesta had allotted the home fields. Fallow and covered in snow now, but in spring they’d grow flax, the woman would tend the trees he found now that he was looking that would feed silkworms.   Later, Elain would tell him the adults here kept the profit of their labors, the cloth they could produce and trade, without paying tax to the estate.   But the children. They spoke about Lady Nesta constantly- excited for the winter holidays, dinner at the estate, gifts from the Lady. Not in the distant way of a benefactor- but like the  fond favorite aunt Cassian might imagine existed in some happy distant world to ask about childhood studies and bring treats. They knew her personally, not as a lady above them.   He’d flown back, not to her side, but to find Azriel. And Az started listening for more than threats.   Together, they learned that no matter that any humans with power looked to Lucien Vanserra hiding behind a false human face for authority, the people loved the Archeron sisters. That by retaking the fiefdom of their great- great grandfathers they hadn’t gained a profit.   They might in a year, or two, if things continued as they were.   What they had done was take a half of what their closest fellow landowners took from their people’s yields. Rotated the crops and changed the largest tenant farms to more profitable growth. Abolished the law the banned villagers from hunting on their land. Built a free school with teachers paid and brought over from human continental cities to teach the village children more than just their letters.   Nesta herself, under the name of her fathers judgement, granting divorces and never turning away a single person in need.   Plans and schemes and shipments of poison, turning the tide of a war that wasn’t hers to keep her people safe, endangered for every act.   She was gods damned impossible, a miracle. Cassian couldn’t understand it.   “You take care of all those people, and Vanserra takes the credit to keep you safe.” Cassian snarled, angry even to his own ears. “Feyre told me you going to marry some Lord twice your age to protect Elain. The title should be yours.”   Lack of recognition was something Cassian had felt his entire life- had told himself didn’t matter again and again. Hadn’t allowed to matter when he brought back legions safely, kept the fragile peace in the Steppes no matter what it cost him.   But this- like so much of Nesta- crawled right under his skin and burned.

Couldn’t be called poison, just sparks catching on so much ready kindling.   Not agreeing- not acknowledging the cauldron damned ocean that filled him at the thought of Nesta Acheron, saving everyone she could find as it bled into his tone- Nesta looked at him with those dawn blue eyes.   “I’m going to tell you a secret,” She announced.   It was so far from what he’d expected her to say that Cassian froze, words on the tip of his tongue to tell her no. Not because he didn’t want to know- Cassian would have lit himself on fire to know- but because she was in a house with a Shadowsinger.   And something told Cassian Nesta’s confidence was the rarest of possible gifts.   A gift he wanted-  her faith, her trust, a real reason to stand at her side and belong.   A smile, so fast he might have imagined it, flickered over her face. No less sharp, but lovely.   “The room is warded,” She told him. Looked up and up, leveling him from across the room. “Do you want to know why I hate my father?”   She waited for him to nod.   Cassian was afraid that answering aloud would break this moment. Behind her, the sky glowed with the captured light of a heavy snow, framing her in the surreally lit night. Grey eyes, white, white skin, pale sky- no matter the golden lamplight.   Somehow all the more real, fragile, than Nesta asking his help to plan for the battles to come. Be careful, Cassian. Like he’d ever lacked care, like Cassian would have ever survived this long without his eyes open.   As though Cassian, his whole life wrought in blood, inked in promise marks for the whole open, glorious sky, had ever taken a single disloyal breath.

Before the words ever came Cassian’s heart had clenched with a phantom pain, a sword straight through.   “It's not the title. Or the business, or the fact that he’s never, ever coming home.” Nesta’s eyes moved over his face. “My father killed our mother.”   Cassian was across the room and at her side before another breath could be taken.

***

“The Archeron name is old. Royal.” Elain whispered, to the grip of Lucien’s hands where they’d come up to catch her wrists, held captive against his heart. “But our grandfather was ruined. Our father had just enough money after his death for a single trading voyage. He had nothing to lose and went along to the continent. To Hesperia.”   Lucien had been raised by monster.   Whatever doubts of his parentage that lived in his heart, whatever questions could be drawn, nothing could ever change those first decades under Beron’s monstrous eye. That Lucien was called to his ancient throne by blood and birthright and act, every bit as dangerous as Autumn could be.   The Archeron’s had grown up dangerous too, but he’d never questioned, imagined, it might be for similar reasons.   “It was a great love story,” Elain hissed, a harsh, beautiful sing-song. “An heiress, who left her country to come live beneath the Wall. Seren is the name of an extinct merchant clan- I don’t know how he convinced her to use it, to marry him in human law- any of it. But overnight, the Archeron name was saved.”   Helpless, Lucien dipped his head. Brushed his lips over the tangle of her knuckles, pressed hard to his chest.    She sighed.   Slumped, tipping forward, until her cheek rested against his shoulder. It was only after Lucien curled his body around hers in the snowy cold that Elain began speaking again.   “Nesta thinks she might have been very old. That it was something new, to try to live a human life. The thrill of a secret.” She shifted, slipping closer, words a warm breath to Lucien’s neck. “I don’t know. I imagine she was young- she must have been. That perhaps she really fell in love and was ruined by it, I don’t know.”

No, Nesta had promised, the favor she wanted a shadowsinger for was not murder. Good, Lucien thought- he wanted to be the one to skin the absent Lord Archeron for every bit of pain in Elain’s tone, every bitter drop of grief.

He wouldn’t kill him- no, Elain and Nesta deserved that privilege. Lucien would just make it possible. Ensure, if that was their choice, they never had to see their father’s face again.   “Elain,” Lucien whispered, unsure he even wanted the answer he could feel trying to burst from her, visible tension limning her entire body tucked in his arms, “What happened to your mother?”   Elain sat up. Looked at him head on. “He killed her. Poison. Worthless parasite- do you know what we found among the treasure he’d hid from the creditors? His journals. I hated him for years for not caring when she died- but he killed her. He killed her and he wrote about it.” Mist billowed around her furious face. Not mist- snowflakes melting to steam before they could reach even her hair, Lucien’s power alive in the air.   He ripped off his gloves, pulling at the fine leather with his teeth. Moved faster than could be seen to catch her face- to cup, gentle, the curve of Elain’s cheeks and catch those first, enraged tears as they fell.   Lucien said nothing, wished he could bleed the whole force of his heart into the simple touch because he knew- he knew, Elain wasn’t done speaking yet.   “Feyre’s very like her, you see. Joyful. Reckless. She loved above all beautiful things- strove to be the best, to have the brightest. After years of living among humans, of having half human children, she stopped being careful.”   “The roses,” Lucien whispered.   “The roses. Healing little scrapes and bruises whenever Feyre fell,” Elain audibly swallowed a laugh, “Fey always was the favorite. Magic- she was so magical, maybe she simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. But that drew talk. Whispers. No one marries faeries- to know them is one thing, legal if they’re from across the sea. But even the rumor that magic could have come into the nobility from over the Wall- the newly reborn Archeron name couldn’t have that.”   “She took ill in winter. Normal- we didn’t understand, but she’d never been ill before. Dead in a week. A formal funeral, but we weren’t allowed to attend- to- to say her name.”   Her black brown gaze flickered up to capture his, two burnt out suns. Elain smiled- dimples lovely, her beloved face, so damned faery as he’d thought a hundred times before- how had Lucien missed it? How did anyone? “And then, of course. The curse came manifest.”   So plain to see, so wondrous to behold, the pieces that had been missing and clicked so easily together.   The Archeron sisters- their mother’s daughters. Their history, so much more extreme than human folly.   “The curse,” Lucien breathed, “On the merchant contract with your bloodline. What allows Archeron ships into faery ports, your people into faery land.”   “No hand in violence may be raised,” Elain recited, “Against magic folk. No innocent faery blood shed, lest the seas themselves rise in revolt against mortal passage. His ships sank, his life unwound.”   Lucien stroked beneath her eye, sliding warmth into her cold-flushed skin. “You needed a man’s presence to keep you safe from other humans, but you never wanted him to return. Hated him- for the negligence, for abandonment, for that need, for existing. He deserves worse. Say the word, and I’ll weave a curse of my own.”   Every bit Autumn, his words embers burning. Flame to follow for the foolish, death all the way down, no light to lead out of the dark.   Elain wrapped her hand around his, pressed Lucien’s calloused palm harder to her cheek. “Blindness? Ill-luck? A damning wish?”   The curses of faeries in stories- lies of their own people Elain and Nesta had been deprived the truth of until Lucien crashed into their lives and found a home.   A home that wouldn’t disappear.   Not a hundred years. Not stolen decades Lucien would burn the whole damn warring world to hold unto each second of. Elain- who wasn’t afraid of him, who could smile and say such things- who might live as long as him, a crown of bone in her hair.   It was with utter honesty that Lucien murmured, “Anything.”   “Anything you’d like, Elain.”

***

When the war came, it started with a wardrobe.   Red leather, once and half over again human height and twice as wide. Landed before the great doors of the manor, a soft thump in snow that went unheard. White drifted down and down still, no eyes out in the storm to see that the flakes didn’t touch that supple surface.   Unblemished through ice and damp, red shone through the softly quiet world. Impervious, to the wards that sang strong, no warning gifted to the Lady of the estate, occupied entirely by her own white knuckled grip on the shaking Illyrian beside her, tales of mother’s lost exchanged. 

Of vengeance, offered free.

No alarm to break through the soft clink of crystal, a midnight drink shared by the lady the ground beneath that snow loved and the man who’d bled to make it safe. Only this: flaming, fire-bright magic, and awed assurance that humanity would fade.   A future that stretched forward, risk taken with assurance and this-   Brighter than the leather, than the seal of the House it had been delivered to, untouched by the weather and all the more horrifically real for it, blood began to seep out onto the snow.   Unfrozen, fresh, through the night.   A message waiting, for Archeron hands.

@breath-of-sindragosa

@flxwer-petals

@ladyvanserra

@illyrianinterrasen

@missanniewhimsy

@tntwme

@ourbooksuniverse

@pitterpatterpot

@thestarwhowishes

@abillionlittlepieces

@my-fan-side

@the-eightofswords

@wonderland–memories

@ourbooksuniverse

@cohen-theeleven

@donnarosemary

@keshavomit   @superspiritfestival  @court-of-fandoms-and-art @sunsummoner @iwastoowildinthe70s @courtofmadness @oonjiawen @ashiok @caotica-e-quieta

[auncyen]

(this is slightly morbid but nothing bad actually happens. If that makes sense.)

-

"Oh, cruel whimsy," Siffrin whispers right of Odile.

"Oh, cruel whimsy!" Siffrin wails from below as he lies, sprawled dramatically, dying.

Odile's seat vibrates because of how excited Siffrin is next to her. "Now leave me, light--" they continue.

"--let all shade come upon me--"

"--and with this last Change--"

"--I end this sordid tale, and pray my next be humorous enough to remedy."

The Siffrin on stage finally dies several minutes after he should have passed out from blood loss. The curtain falls. The Siffrin next to Odile claps wildly, shouting along with the crowd. "Bravo! Bravo!!!"

Mirabelle, on Odile's left, is still crying from the play's tragedy, but has recovered enough to comment, "that's another liberty they took. We don't all believe in reincarnation. It's mostly the Houses in Brisseau."

"And that's fine?" Odile asks, raising her voice just enough to cut through the applause around them.

Mirabelle shrugs, dabbing at her eyes. "The Change religion doesn't focus too much on what happens after death anyway, so it's not really that big a deal, I guess?"

"I don't think the Poterians are worried about accuracy anyway," Odile says, casting an eye around them before focusing on Siffrin--their Siffrin, not the actor who is back on their feet now that the curtain has risen again and taking a bow.

She cannot believe this is the first play Siffrin wanted to see. They'd loved plays, yes, but then those two strange days in Dormont happened, and the first time Isabeau suggested watching a play as a way to take their minds off things for a bit, Siffrin had gotten the strangest look on his face before saying he wasn't really in the mood and maybe they could just look around the market instead. They'd left the topic there for the day, but slowly, with a joint effort, they'd gotten Siffrin to talk about how he'd come to think of life as a play during the loops. They were supposed to say these things to Isabeau, or Odile, or Mirabelle or Boniface, and then the others would always say the same lines, and sometimes deviating from the script was good and created a better script and sometimes it resulted in something so awful that they immediately messed up the next loop and then spent the next six strictly following the better script and making everyone smile, over and over again, so that that "bad loops" wouldn't count anymore. Which was completely illogical, but Odile had to assume whatever had happened--Siffrin had yet to talk about whatever that was--had been traumatizing enough to make Siffrin cling to the safety of repetition even as it was driving them insane.

Needless to say, plays had been taboo for some time. Mirabelle hadn't even been sure at first if she could talk about her books, if any fiction might make Siffrin uneasy, but Siffrin had taken her not reading books by them as her not having any and had dragged Odile on a Secret Quest to procure some, so books were clearly safe.

The taboo on plays was broken today, when Boniface noticed Siffrin's name on a flier and immediately called it out, making everyone notice it. It hadn't taken very long for awkwardness to settle in as they all read further and realized "Siffrin" was the titular character of a play, but before Isabeau or Mirabelle could find a distraction, Siffrin had lit up. "...My name! I named myself after the hero! I love this--that is--" His cheeks shaded with fluster as he realized just how enthusiastic he'd gotten. "...can we go see it?"

It had been a unanimous yes, of course. If Siffrin was rediscovering an interest the loops had taken from them, good. Of course they'd watch it, both to make sure Siffrin enjoyed themself and because they were all a little curious what Siffrin had seen in this play to name himself after it.

Well.

Well.

"...Wait, where's Bonnie and Nille?" Siffrin was asking. With the play over, he was finally regaining awareness of his surroundings and noticing the other seats in the aisle, already empty. "Isa?"

"...Boniface went out with Petronille because they were uncomfortable with how dark it was getting--we all warned them it was a tragedy, please don't feel guilty, Siffrin," Odile says when Siffrin's face falls. "They knew they might be uncomfortable, they still wanted to try, and they left with their sister when they realized they might get upset. I'm sure Boniface is fine."

"Okay...Isa...?"

Odile is certain Isabeau walked out because he'd overthought the connection between Siffrin naming himself after a character who was from the start of the play almost certain to die at the end of it. She's certain, because she's overthinking it herself. "I'm not sure," she says instead, because he didn't actually tell her that and she'd rather not put words in anyone's mouth with a topic this delicate. "So why did you name yourself after the hero?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Siffrin asks.

She doesn't like the answer that seems obvious. "I'd like to hear your own thought process, though."

Siffrin bounces on their feet. "That monologue in act four--and his banter with Gaston! I can't believe I remember so much of it!"

It is impressive how good their memory is with plays, and Odile wonders if it's because plays, while inspired by the real world, very much take place in their own little worlds, far from memory-erasing islands.

"And, well..." Siffrin sobers. "He loses everything in the play. And I--I guess--I don't really remember if I tried telling people or not, about my past, but I don't think I felt like anyone would have believed me...so...it's not the same, he still remembers, but he felt that sad and everyone feels bad for him, so... it felt like a relief that way?" He shrugs, awkwardly.

"Oh," Mirabelle says, clapping her hands together as she stands up. "Now I get why you like these plays! It's the catharsis!"

Siffrin brightens with a smile at Mirabelle. "That's it! The catharsis."

"I see," Odile says, hoping the relief isn't too obvious in her voice. Yes, she and Isabeau definitely overthought this.

[themalhambird]

37 for Isabelle?

Everything’s happened too quickly. 

Isabelle was supposed to have days, between marrying the English King and needing to go back to his home with him- where have they gone? The Wedding is still at the forefront of her mind - it was terrifying, and exhilarating, and the excitement of it is still there, but it’s fading rapidly to anxiety as she realises that now it’s over, and so is the time allotted for farewells and a whirlwind of packing…

She’s going to leave France, she realises with a jolt, and it doesn’t seem real. England doesn’t seem like it could be a real place, not really, though she knows it as and-

She agreed to this, she reminds herself crossly. More than that- she

wanted

this: she wants to be a great lady, like maman and aunt Valentine, and she

wants

to see outside of France, so that she can fill in the blank spaces where it seems like nothing exists. And the King- her husband- he’s like she’d hoped he would be, or at least seems it: he’s kind and gentle,

  and

he’s handsome whatever Kate says about his long hair being girly-

Isabelle

thinks it looks romantic, a silky auburn waterfall curling around his shoulders like one of the illuminated knights in her Great Uncle Berry’s stories of King Arthur, which he let her look at once though she wasn’t allowed to actually

read

it- 

But there’s something about him that does jar with all her daydreams and it’s worrying her: now that she’s about to leave her home with this man, she can’t ignore it. She’s been picturing her wedding to some important nobleman in various ways since she was a very little girl, but however she imagined it- be it to a King or Duke or…she always sort of assumed he’d be, well,

happy.

Not in love with her necessarily, she’s always known that love is often the kind of thing that only happens after a wedding, but they exchanged their vows and King Richard’s eyes were sad. His hands shook as he took hers- she was so nervous herself that she didn’t really register it all at the time but the more she thinks about it…

She leaves first thing tomorrow morning; she’s running out of time to seek reassurance. In a moment of decisiveness, she swings out of bed, jams her feet in to her slippers, snatches a shawl to wrap around her shoulders, and slips from the room, leaving Kate snoring behind her. She intends to go and ask the King- maybe she’s done something wrong, in which case she needs to fix it, or maybe there’s something else the matter in which case, she’s his wife now and shouldn’t that mean she has a duty to try and fix it? She wants him to be happy. Something tells her he has a beautiful smile, and she can’t wait to see it. She reaches his door and pushes it open a little- then freezes as she hears voices inside. “…do this to yourself…”That’s the King’s cousin, she thinks- the nice one with dark hair and good French who she met first, not the other, scary one with French that’s passable but horribly accented. Heart pounding wildly in her chest, she looks through the crack in the door. She blushes furiously as she realises that both men are naked, or as near to naked as she’s ever seen a man anyway: King Richard has only his shirt, and his cousin- Rutland, she remembers suddenly-only his underpants…they’re lying on the bed, on top of the covers, the King closest too her though his face is turned away from the door: he’s looking at Rutland, who’s propped up on one elbow, other hand laced with the King’s.“I can’t help it,” the King says. “I’ve tried- God knows I’ve tried- that I’m trying. Princess Isabelle is…she’s a lovely girl, she’ll make a good queen, in time-I like her. I like her, very much. But Ned, she’s not Anne. She’s not Anne.”

Isabelle wanted to pull away, to run back to bed and forget this had ever happened, but she couldn’t move. Of course, how had she not seen this! Richard was a decade older than she was…twenty seven, to her seventeen, and they were only marrying because of politics…of course he would have someone: Isabelle could picture her, Anne, an English Lady- married to someone else, perhaps, or not married at all, but not a wife he could take without angering his nobles. As a mistress, though- well perhaps, she thought, panicking, they could be friends. Though the relief she had been feeling that her husband had gently suggested deferring their wedding night until she was a little older, and they knew each other a little better, was quickly turning sour- if he and his mistress were in love- and he sounded very in love, the anguish in his voice was unmistakable- he would probably never want her; she would be set to one side, a spare part, an interloper. 

“Oh, Dearheart.” Isabelle didn’t know what Rutland had just said meant: it must be an English word. But the tone was unmistakable in it’s sympathy, as though Rutland’s heart was breaking as much as his cousin’s, and he pressed a chaste kiss to his King’s mouth-Isabelle jumped as a hand clapped her shoulder, and she spun around to see her Uncle Orleans disapproving frown. “What are you doing?” he hissed, and then, seeing she was on the verge of tears, the frown became concern as he pulled her away from the door and in to an alcove. “Isabelle, what’s wrong?”

“He has a mistress!” Isabelle sobbed. “That’s why he’s been so sad! He doesn’t want to be married to me because he’s in love with her!”

Orleans frowned again, in confusion this time. “…what? But he-” he asked, brows knitting together. “What did you overhear?” he said, a gentle reprimand slipping in to his tone. There was a reason eavesdropping was never a good idea: this was it.

“ I heard them talking! The King and his cousin…The King’s upset because I’m not Anne, her name is Anne-

”Oh dear God, Orleans thought: he had known from the very beginning this was a bad idea- and had Isabeau told her daughter nothing of the man she’d been given to? No hint, no warning? “Isabelle,” he said, “Isabelle, listen to me: King Richard does not have a mistress.”“But they were-”

“They were talking about his wife. His first wife.”Isabelle looked at him with round, confused eyes. 

“…He has been married?” she whispered, hiccupping. “I assumed you knew,” Orleans said softly. “That you’d been told…” he exhaled. “King Richard was married. Her name was Queen Anne, and they loved each other very much, everyone said so.”“What happened?”

“She died,” Orleans said quietly. “Three years ago. I understand that the English courtiers find it better to avoid speaking of her, than to risk reopening the King’s grief, it was…great.” He would not go in to specifics. Isabelle didn’t need to know that in the months after the Queen of England’s death gossip all across Europe said that King Richard had gone mad. He burnt down the palace where she had died, that Orleans knew for fact; there were other rumours, too, that he did not sleep, or that he did not stir from his bed, that he would not eat, that his anguish howls could be heard right across England, that he passed each night on his knees in the chapel begging God to give her back…or else take him too…“Uncle?”

“…You mustn’t worry,” Orleans said finally. “It may be…difficult, at first, for you both. But in time…”Isabelle sniffled, drying her eyes. “What if it doesn’t,” she said. “What if…” she trailed off, gesturing as if to say: all the things that could go wrong, what if they happen? What then?“

Then you come home,” Orleans said firmly. “If you don’t like England- if you’re even the slightest bit unhappy. You come back home.”

“What if there’s a war and they won’t let me?” It hadn’t occurred to her, until this moment, but now it had-

“Then, I come and rescue you,” her uncle said. “The slightest hint of trouble: if you need me, I’ll come get you.”

“You promise?” Isabelle asked, feeling a little better at the prospect of having her uncle’s help, if she ever needed it. She would not be alone, after all…

“I promise,” Orleans said firmly, “You have my word…”

(three years later, Queen Isabelle of England was given the news that France formally recognised Henry Bolingbroke as England’s King and thought:

Liar.)

[mantisgodiveblog]

First party conversations, and then we'll stop blogging moment to moment we promise. We'll use this as our, ah... "party summary post", we suppose, having gone through a grand total of One loop 0 and now combing through this again. Current impressions, and such.

We're going left to right here, which means our first victim of today is Mirabelle.

We remember some stuff from this that makes it... interesting, we think. Mirabelle is from here, we believe, though the other three (or four?) members of the party are from Elsewhere, which... she's actually from this House, isn't she? She knew the people here, and is now walking in the place that they might have died.

We don't have too many details, not quite yet, but the Head Housemaiden, at minimum... from everything that we know so far, this was someone dearly important to her, and her immediate thoughts going to concern for them is very interesting.

Next up, Bonnie. Though we have, as previously mentioned, only played the demo so far, we're very fond of Bonnie - we have a lot of sympathy for her, from what little we've gone through thus far - though this might just be telling of us and our usual tastes in characters. Despite everything, we remain amazingly predictable in our choices of favorites.

They're a bit touchy, here, but given the context, that's understandable, really. They seem a bit of a... high-strung, maybe, character already, and the jab is in good fun, but it won't really make the sting sting less, considering. Being that small lends you a lot less skin to bruise, and that means that even small offences can feel worse than they otherwise would be.

We've already played through the full demo, as previously noted, and the way that they've been done is... very fun. We'll save the full analysis 'til we get to the actual moments, of course, but the way that they capture the interpersonal relationships here is a thing of beauty, and we dearly look forward to seeing how this develops. The Wretched Punster moment made us groan the first time, the aftermath and subtle sort of chafing they have going on was Very well done, and the way they're written gives us a good deal of faith that the game's makers know how to handle this flavor of character.

(At this point, we had to pause making this post as our cat jumped into our lap and nearly dumped, like, half of the text we'd already done. Thanks, Lemon.)

Isabeau is... well, we don't have that good of a grasp on him yet, we think? He's friendly and strong and a bit oblivious and he wears that semi-obliviousness as a badge of honor, but he really does seem to care about his friends. Primarily, he seems... genuine, and empathic?

Though we've not got a great grasp of him yet, we think he's likely to have a solid role in future. He pays good attention to social cues - he's paying good attention to Siffrin, here! Offering to cover for us seems... hmm, the exact wording is tough to come by right now. Genuine? He feels the sort of friend who looks out for those around him, and we'd say that keeping his friends comfortable and happy is very high on the priority list.

Also, he's one of half the party with actual dialogue when spoken to more than once! Very neat!

Now that just leaves Odile. We think that the differeing initiating dialogues are very fun for these, honestly - we'll have to read into them more later, if we have the time. Though we know very little about her, we'd say she definitely has our favorite design out of the current party. Her brand of humor is particularly fun for us. She seems fun to be around, honestly. We just know very little about her, otherwise.

We relate to the "slow old woman reflexes", also. Bones, our beloathed. Oh, to have better bones again.

Also, while speaking to her, we discovered that APPARENTLY, there's an actual RUNNING TUTORIAL in here! We had to find this out from the running guy in the village the first time! You're telling us we could've got a tutorial if we just talked to Odile one more time? We were walking leisurely away from enemies for nothing??? We could have avoided SO many combats on our demo playthrough!

Also, say hello to our Special Guest, Lemon. He is a fool and a wretch and he likes to try and stand on our keyboard.

All right, we've delayed enough. Unto the liveblog.

We really do like the title music here. It's very... peaceful? Nice? We've played the demo, of course, but we'll be starting a new game for this, if only for the sake of Crimes and commentating on some things we did not liveblog first time around.

The cutscene you get right out the gates is Very nice. Cool stylization! Cool animation! We have only just now registered that that fucker is biting that star which feels like it has the distinct possibility to Hurt. Do they not... care? It feels like they could get a splinter from that. Stab in the gums.

Also this star thing looks a good deal like the head of the starthing that the demo ends with which we will simply assume is connected. We don't think this counts as cannibalism but it's definitely Something. Can't wait for Winged Lion 2.

[overlycaffeinatedwarmage]

RtS Ch 38-40

The analysis in which I say “fuck” and other assorted grownup words often.

Chapter 38

Mircea explain what Dory is.  If you’ve read the Dory books you already know all of this. The block he built in her mind is crumbling because the vampire side in her mind is stronger and wants out. Dorina mistook Cassie’s rescue of Mircea for an assault and wants revenge.  He has a fucked-up family to say the least. But this says something about the unconditional love of a parent?

 Mircea stands at the door looking at her but not touching her.  She’s glad but at the same time says, "But it hurt nonetheless, staring up into that beautiful face, wondering if I knew what was going on behind those eyes at all." You don't know a thing Cassie, he's using you. Don't trust the bastard. He’s been using you since day one, as you’ll soon discover.  You know nothing, Cassie Palmer.

 Then Mircea says about Dory, ““She has a way of turning up whenever there’s trouble. You two share that ability.” He smiled slightly.” Ewewewewewewew!!!!!! Dude, don't compare your girlfriend and daughter, it's creepy as fuck. Not cute, not at all.  That’s some fucked up Freudian level shit there, man.

 Mircea mentions the Consul pulling strings.  He doesn't want to tell her anything that actually matters, not about his life, politics, anything. Just about stuff she can help with. That's not a relationship. She knows it, he knows it. He just doesn't care. He doesn’t really want a relationship.  He wants an errand girl.

 (Re Consul: “But she has spies everywhere. And they notice more than expressions—heartbeat, breathing patterns, a thousand tells a human would never see.” Could this be a clue about Pritkin?)

 Mircea reminds me of Mantis from GotGv2, pulling away emotions.  It sounds like that’s what he’s doing to Cassie here purposefully or not. I don’t like it.  Mantis uses her power for good in the movie, Mircea uses it to manipulate and calm Cassie to make her more pliable.  Fuck you dude.

 Cassie is putting stuff together here, Mircea treats her like a moron, or a child. That's how he views her more often than not. He claims not, but he actions speak otherwise.  

  “Are you reading my mind?” I asked sharply.

“Your face. I doubt I could pick up on even surface thoughts tonight. After the last two days . . .”

 So, Mircea claims to not be able to pick up thoughts, he isn’t able to read her mind on Pritkin.  She either told him outright, or someone else did here.  He didn’t pick it up mentally. He found out the old-fashioned way.

  Chapter 39

The chapter in which we find out Mircea's true motivations for wooing Cassie. The fucker.

 So, years had passed since he left Elena, yet he goes back to give her the choice to follow him or not? Is he so arrogant to think she just waited for him and pined after him, for years? Yes, of course he is. She just sat by the window waiting and watching, wasting away to nothing waiting for him.  I really dislike him more and more. Jackass.

 How did the townspeople know Dory was a dhampir? Especially as a baby.  Because of him? She reads as human most of the time. We get the history of Elena's death and Vlads part in it.  Mircea starts projecting, so Cassie sees the truth of things from him for once. What a rare opportunity!

 More story tellers, she lets Mircea get away with it though. Dammit girl take your power back from him. We see him visiting the Pythias. He learned charm for them.  All his diplomatic skills he learned for the Pythias.  

 Future trivia fodder: Bernice with the dogs in Constantinople. Eudoxia moves to Paris. We see him seducing Isabeau, who wants an English garden, see tensions with circle starting here.

 Chapter 40

Answer is always no, maybe it was no because Cassie needed it to be no?  She needed his sorta-protection protection as a kid? The power says no because it knows what’s coming and knows it's needed. If all the Pythias don't remember then Cassie can't use that to stay in Wales, to prove herself, save Pritkin and defeat Ares. Cassie hasn’t looked to see yet so we don’t know. But those are my theories.  Without those 500 years of No’s we wouldn’t have Cassie as we know her.  

 Cassie is crying because her heart is breaking here. Her conscious mind hasn't caught up yet but she knows what this means. I hate this motherfucker for breaking her heart like this. We all knew it was coming but still.  Fuck him and the horse he rode in on.

 In Cassie’s memory scene she talks to ghosts. She lets him in on the secret few know about.  Giving up her power even way back when.  He gives her attention, not jewels, though sorts of those too. He really researches people well.

 She asks why he's asking now, he gives excuses, but I think it's because he finally has leverage. He projects the vision of his night with Elena, it tells Cassie that they were married. This is why he kept Vlad alive, to tell him where and when Elena dies. How does Mircea know now? Actually, I think he doesn’t but he thinks he has Cassie wrapped around his finger enough that she’ll figure it out for him.  Dick.  

 The daughter thing is the first time Cassie officially caught him in a lie.  And that, folks, is the game.  It’s all over now.  She was willing to play along until now.  Then we have lie number two.  The potion. He's been stringing her along, promising the potion he doesn't have and can't get, you motherfucker.  I mean, we knew this all along.  That would be too easy.  But it still stings.  Cassie uses what precious little energy she has left and blindly shifts away.  God damn girl, it’s about time you really, truly stood up to him.  Finally. Nice to see him outted for the POS we knew him to be with regards to Cassie.  Let him go Cassie, he’s not worth it.