#or maybe another new one. the talisman maybe. not sure!

[reikunrei]

i have less than 50 pages left to read in It and idk what to read next!!!

[secretlypeerless-cucumber]

Chapter II

First

"What are you talking about." Shen Jiu hisses. He does not have the time nor the willingness to entertain this clearly delusional man more than he already has. Honestly, he probably shouldn't have freed his mouth if this is what's coming out of it.

"Gege, I know it's been like 20 years or something, but you couldn't have forgoten about me, could you? This breaks Didi's poor heart." Says the other, batting his eyelashes like a little mistress asking daddy for a new dress and it's making him sick. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

"You don't even know my name and this one doesn't have any siblings, so shut up. I'll fucking leave you here if you say another stupid thing." Shen Jiu walks to the corpse of the fat man with a grimace. He would prefer to not do this but the prospect of ruining a noble's day by liberating "the merchandise" is too sweet to pass after all.

Taking the sleeve with just two fingers, Shen Jiu brings it up enough to search inside, dropping on the ground the knickknacks the man inexplicably had inside. Well, the money he keeps. Shizun is too cheap with her disciples and inns are disgusting while brothels are expensive. He'll need a good night's sleep after this and his prey will be funding it.

"We didn't actually had names." With the keys in hand, Shen Jiu walks to the largest cage he can see and passes them to the frightened woman inside. Only when she understands what to do and gets to work opening all the cages on sight does he turn around to the nuisance still tied up and sitting on the dirty ground. "What?"

"When we lived with mother; we didn't have names. That man-" He said it with so much venom that Shen Jiu could -for a single moment- believe they were siblings after all. "-never let her name us. He was planning on selling us from before we were even born so she 'shouldn't get attached'. She fought him, naturally, but Mother only could do so much... He took you first, I was too sick to be sold just yet."

Shen Jiu is marginally grateful the other slaves ran as soon as they were freed from the cages because he doesn't need reports of what he'll do to this bastard to reach Shizun. A murder outside of the permitted by the mission will look so bad on his already muddy reputation. "Good story, you should write a book." He deadpans.

"It's the truth!" The guy pouts, as if that helps his case at all and doesn't just make him look crazier. "Gege could easily prove we are related with a talisman, couldn't you? I know fancy cultivators have that type of tools just lying around!"

"You want me to believe you remember bullcrap from when 'we' were, what, 4 years old?" Shen Jiu said mockingly.

"Gege isn't even denying he was a slave like me" A curious head tilt and Shen Jiu suddenly feels like he's missing something, again. He hates that feeling. "He knows deep down that this Didi is saying something important." That knowing look is pissing him off, but he can't deny felling the littlest bit curious. The guy stole his face, that's undeniable. And a sibling relationship could very well explain it.

But is he ready for the implications? Is he ready to have a family, a fucked up one he is sure, but, family?

Qi-ge Yue Qi used to call them brothers, but that didn't stop him at the moment of betraying him for a better life. Is this guy actually interested in Shen Jiu or is this his ploy to be freed? He already saw Shen Jiu give the keys to the others, surely there's no need for him to still be talking to Shen Jiu at all?

Shen Jiu could always just make the test and drop this guy on the streets if it came out negative and... And if it's positive that'll mean there's someone in this world who is his.

There's no way to change one's blood. He knows that very well. His blood may very well be running in this guys veins. An undeniable bond to someone, something unbreakable. This could mean he has a brother, maybe even a mother that... Loved him.

A mother. One that loved this wretched creature. Proof that he didn't came out wrong, twisted.

Is Shen Jiu being too naive? The simple promise of a past loved one has him doubting the most basic instinct of caring for no one but himself. Hope is an ugly thing he thought dead and buried years ago under charred wood and ash.

Shen Jiu returned his gaze to the young man, serious and grave. He can't believe he is doing something so stupid but one thing is true in all street children: If you can take something, do it. And never give anything back. "You will follow me and not say a single word to anyone. Understood? I will have to ask someone back at the sect for a blood testing tool." This guy wants to be his brother? Fine. Let him cope with his horrible personality. Shen Jiu is never diminishing himself for the comfort of others. Never again.

A sly smile is his answer, and he can't quite help the feeling he just got played. "This Didi will do as Gege says..."

Prev - Next

Beta by: @sillygoofyqueer

[tsatsked]

The spectrum of early 20th century Russian fashion or why I think Zima was a nobleman and Leonid looks a bit fruity and slay

DISCLAIMER: I'm not an expert, the text is kinda dump. Also, if I speak lies, call me out.

Zima

DISCLAIMER: I divide several classes into ‘noble’ and ‘common’ ones just so it would be easier to explain my thoughts on the historical fashion tendencies dualism.

First of all, some historical context just to be sure we’re on one page. Due to some law enforcement in 18th century, economics and class division, Russian Empire nobles embraced fashion from dominant European countries faster than common folk did. The noble fashion was more West-centered and common fashion was more Slavic-centered, and this division continued to exist to some extent up to the 20th century revolution period.

Speaking about the parts of Zima’s outfit, most of them seem to be generic for a commoner living in the northern region. His sable collar can be explained by him making it to survive harsh climate, the dragonfly wings brooch are mostly whimsical than anything, but the thin gloves and the style in which the scarf is secured tell another story. Thin gloves were worn for hygiene and etiquette, but for how often they rip not every family could afford such elegance. The scarf is worn like cape and secured by the rope as by fourragère, both of which came into Russian noble fashion through Western casual fashion and military uniforms. Is Zima an ex-commoner that dresses tacky or an ex-noble who forgot his drip? Judging by his character in his Anecdote, he’s too hippie-like to care about looking fancy for others and the second option is more likely. His knowledge of several languages does not necessary means he couldn’t be a commoner, but makes it more likely he received such education due to being born into a richer family. Unrelated, I like his design, he looks like an embodiment of Russian Empire and early Soviet literature, mostly reminds me of elements from Pushkin’s, Turgenev’s and Esenin’s works

Leonid

Disclaimer: the information is got mosltly from Zima’s Anecdote, I’ve just learned he was in another events :[

Leonid has some serious drip - he’s rocking patterned turtleneck hidden under a plain shirt. Yes, I said turtleneck. Don’t be deceived by the pattern - there are no rubaha (Russian shirt) with such a high collar and no button is sight! The stitches length also suggest that the gold is not weaved but printed on the knitwear. Such kind of mass production clothes are easy to imagine being made in early Soviet years, when artists searched new ways to incorporate Bauhaus and Avant-garde principles into citizens lives and forget about past, when cultural symbols are simplified into more abstract forms. Maybe he could make it itself after being inspired by work of others. And here’s where my understanding of cultural references ends, of boy, it looks like he absorbs looks from different places around Eurasia. I’m not familiar with white shirt’s cut, maybe it inspired by more western Slavic traditional clothes like, idk Poland. The braiding style is common in Eastern Slavic cultures among women but braids aren’t a thing in Russian male tradition (the reason I said he looks fruity #1). So are earring(s) (the reason I said he looks fruity #2). The sash kinda reminds of different traditions across the country, but the way it’s simultaneously wide, plain and secured by belt, it gives off the foreign vibe. TLDR - he’s kinda gnc and bold in his style choices But the most majestic thing in his design is buttons collection on his belt! In Eastern European (and not only) ye old days, buttons were used as talismans to ward off evil from somebody. While I was checking the information, I’ve learned red clothes were used as protection too. It seems like the power of clothes are on his side

[ei-w]

Ora (OC)

Below, you can find an extract of her character. Once, I'll colour the sketch, but for now, let the words speak instead of me about her.

tw: noncon (briefly referred), character death

-- -- --

"I'm not sure whether this is the best timing to share her story, youngling."

"Please, I need to know."

Maybe it was the boy’s impending death, becoming a ghost soon, evolving into an eternal being and sealing his future of becoming the Master of Time, at the cost of his freedom, that made Frostbite listen to the whispered plea. Otherwise, he must have preferred another day to go into these depths. But there was no other chance for this talk either; he had to respect his wishes and keep his promise.

After sighing, Frostbite took a long look at the runes on the wall of his infirmary chamber and decided the boy deserved to know his past, no matter what. He couldn’t withhold the truth for eternity. Frostbite felt a debt to her to tell her story. For now, his distress of losing her had to be set aside to open that wound for her son; the tale began.

"Her name was Ora. She was one of us, one of the ancient spirits of the immortal realm, beyond knowledge, beyond worlds... Ora, however, craved learning. She curiously descended to deserted lands, seeding the roots of vitality and following the changes that her presence evoked. She cherished observing the passing of days, weeks, months, years and decades after her footsteps. Centuries later, new creatures emerged. She longed to visit humans, the beings similar to us yet far away from our principles.”

Frostbite remembered that despite the council denying her claims of her essential nature to venture her absence, Ora never faltered. Even after countless refusals, she remained enthusiastic. She never stopped trying to find a solution to leave the eternal realm safely.

"Her oath and duty was only to be a witness and guide life. But the mortals’ appearance tainted her; she could not bear the pain of staying. She could not explain it to me, but she had to go. Her powers became agitated the longer she remained in the eternal lands. Time felt slower and restive, slipping out of her control. I crafted a relic to preserve her mortal body as long as she kept it safe: a vessel, a talisman with a sparkle of her ability, able to lead her back to us but also anchoring her there until necessary. Time stopped here when she left, yet I felt her end through the Halt. And we mourned her."

The boy blinked slowly. His shoulders seemed to slump with the weight on them about the sorrowful fate he knew, too.

"A man leading armies captured her, perceiving her nature as beyond human. The same man you must know well, too—from who you fled nineteen years later," Frostbite explained. But he knew the youngling only had vague flashes of memory about his before.

Perhaps it was a blessing not to remember, but not knowing was also a curse. It spared one pain but robbed them of self-awareness. Dealing with Time always exacted a price, unspoken but demanded from its weavers. It cost the boy his prior memories.

"The man seized the relic, taking your mother as his prisoner. He exploited her foresight, harnessing her nature, among other things that benefitted his mortal desires. Ora was augur until she thought she would be valuable and capable of holding on to regain her freedom. But her powers soon changed. It was altered by the lack of her talisman, but also differently. In her womb, she started carrying a diviner who challenged her seeing. And while her ability channelled through, her eternalness waned as time passed."

Frostbite glanced at the boy, staring into the blurry eyes that now gleamed gold, events unfolding before the young eyes. Past was always too painful, but they both knew he couldn't stop at this point. The boy must have also understood, bracing himself for the rest of the tale. Frostbite continued in a gentle voice.

"You were born August. You were her hope, her anchor, and the bearer of Time as her descendant. Until she nourished you, your connection remained. Then, your father's advantage vanished, and his failures in war escalated. Your mother could no longer ensure his victory. The premonitions became unstable and unclear along with your upbringing. He raged."

Restraining triumph in the final moments of achieving absolute power from those who thought they were destined to be tyrants and conquerors of lands always led to a grim outcome. No obstacles could survive that perfidy.

"Then he must have seen something in you, a reflection of him in your features perhaps or a strike of vision you showed him clearer than Ora... he didn't need your mother anymore. Instead, there was a child with golden eyes seeing Time, too, telling him his future, while the other was an impostor, nothing but a drained, empty vessel. That little boy, his blood, her divine reverberating in a fresh flesh on the other hand… was a precious trophy, a mouldable legacy of seer no one ever had."

Frostbite solemnly concluded the tale. "Ora couldn’t return to us, but we remember her sacrifice, bringing you to us. It took some time, but her message was clear: we must find balance—a bridge to ensure our safety. And now, as you become one of us, she lives in you. You are Time like she was, but also more than that. Ora shines in you."

Frostbite didn't need to say anything more, but the addition floated between them nonetheless: By helping us defeat Pariah, you will bring final safety to our people, fulfilling her purpose of existence.

[tarnishedinquirer]

Fringefolk Hero's Grave 2

Here I am, back at the Fringefolk Hero's Grave. I'm stronger. I've got a torch and a spyglass. I'm wearing armor, thanks to a certain someone helping me take that mask off.

Though, to be honest, still not comfortable with my face. I think I forgot how it's supposed to work.

Looking from a distance at the handless woman, comparing her to the Erdtree Favor... They could both be earlier depictions of Marika, but I can't be sure. The Erdtree Favor looks a lot more recent, even if it was also in the distant past. If the statue was holding a vessel of some kind, she would've been holding it upright, rather than pouring it out. One removed of power, one removed of identity. I feel like I'm on the cusp of a discovery here.

This time, I looked around before crossing the bridge and noticed a ledge down below. No reason to antagonize the Grafted Scions, so I jumped down. There was nothing on the ledge, so I jumped down again, and landed in shallow water.

I took some stairs and then an elevator up, and found myself on a platform overlooking the chariot track. Unfortunately, I was not alone, as another of the red-clad Banished Knights attacked me with a halberd. By now I knew for certain that his techniques were of Stormveil. These knights must have served Stormveil at some point. So what was Stormveil's connection to dragons?

As the chariot raced back and forth below, I looked up, only to find several giant pots suspended from the ceiling. Can't imagine why they would be there. Some kind of failsafe, maybe? A way to take out the chariot if its creators couldn't disable themselves? That made sense. The magics to control it might be lost to time, but a giant exploding pot would probably do the trick in a pinch.

Took me until the last pot to get the timing right, but oh was it satisfying. I'd never have to worry about that thing again.

In the wreckage, I found an Erdtree Greatbow. That seemed odd... was the thing supposed to also shoot arrows at me? Was the artifact used as a power source somehow? Or was the chariot itself some sort of mobile reliquary? Impossible to say, considering how thoroughly I destroyed it.

Greatbow featuring Erdtree styling. In times of old, when faith and battle went hand in hand, this weapon was created in tandem with the Golden Arrow.

In times of old? FAith and battle always go hand in hand. They still do, if some of these gold-clad zealots I've met are any indication. Even when not led by fanatics, the faith is still used to oppress, like with Demi-humans and Misbegotten. My god can beat up your god.

This world keeps finding new ways to horrify me. When I entered the final chamber, I was expecting something like the chambers at the end of catacombs. This was similar to that, but instead of one mass of roots at the end of the chamber, enormous clumps of decaying bodies hung down from the ceiling like rotten fruit. The guardian was a creature like a gnarled root crossed with a snake, except far worse for how its cracked skin pulsed and oozed with unknown sickness. The voice called it an Ulcerated Tree Spirit. Was this in any way related to the Avatars? Perhaps their dark equivalent.

I found it was still as "holy" as its cousins, but rather than casting magic from its hammer-stave, it breathed fire like a dragon. Perhaps that's why I found a Haligdrake talisman on someone trying to flee. He must've thought it would protect him. It afforded me some protection, but nowhere near enough.

It took countless tries before I was able to read its undulating body language. Before I could tell a feint from a lunge from the thing just dragging its bulk across the floor. Halfway through the fight, it erupted into golden flames that did not consume it, only made it more dangerous to approach. I applied burning resin to my sword in hopes that like a tree, it would burn. It helped, but again, the creature was so resilient the damage increase was marginal at best.

Then I started using everything at my disposal. Picked turtle necks for stamina. Exalted flesh for strength. Aurelia as a distraction. I found that if I hugged its belly, it had a harder time hitting me, unless it decided to just roll over top of me.

Eventually, though, it fell, and I claimed my rewards.

Banished Knight Oleg. One of the two knights known as the Wings of the Storm. After his banishment, he attracted the notice of the Grace-Given Lord and later, having slain a hundred traitors as the Lord's hand, Oleg earned the hero's honor of Erdtree Burial.

First, this knight must've been Engvall's partner. Second, Engvall's ashes said that he was a hero of the fringes, yet Oleg is the one interred in the Fringefolk Hero's Grave. The one who rejected the Grace-Given Lord is in a tiny, waterlogged tomb on a rotten river, while the one who accepted him is buried in a hero's grave. The whole thing smacks of politics.

Finally, this "Grace-Given Lord." Godrick the Golden/Grafted was born in grace. That's basically the only thing he has going for him. A Grace-Given lord is one who was not born in grace but was rather granted it.

Conclusion: Engvall stayed watch over Stormveil while Oleg answered the summons. It's not a stretch to assume the summons was from Leyndell. Oleg distinguished himself fighting traitors, while Engvall died as a hero in exile. When Oleg died, he Engvall was stripped of his burial place and shunted off to a forgotten, disrepaired tomb, guarded only by a lone gladiator. Perhaps Engvall's master was one of the traitors, and Stormveil was the traitor's castle before Godrick took over? That would explain the disrespect.

Who is the grace-given lord?

What was wrong with this tree spirit?

Who was the former master of Stormveil, the one turned traitor?

When did Marika's iconography drop the ewer?

[dragon-communion]

Okay so I was joking in an earlier post about how Elden Ring needs some properly fucked up vampires, but I think I may have found something more disturbing.

My joke involved the most blasphemous creature being a sapsucker woodpecker, since they eat tree sap and it’s heavily implied that the Erdtree’s sap has something to do with reincarnation. I’m... not entirely sure how, and I keep imagining little pod babies falling like meteors from the Erdtree’s branches to crash through some unsuspecting peasant’s roof, but I digress.

What we know for a fact is that there are basins around the Erdtree, and the Minor Erdtrees, for collecting tears of resin/amber. We can collect crystal tears from them ourselves, in fact. A few ghost NPCs seem to almost be begging for the sacred dew to fall from the trees, and Melina implies that burning the Erdtree will end the cycle of new births.

So. Assuming the sap that falls from the trees becomes babies, what’s the difference between the creation of human children and the presumably infertile crystal tears? They are infertile, right? Not babies? It disturbs me that I can’t immediately answer this with a solid no, because we do have a case of a piece of amber being referred to as a child. Rennala’s egg. Or perhaps the rune inside was the child. I’d need to look over the dialogue.

Further complicating this is the description of the Flask of Crimson Tears (and by extension the blue one, too).

A sacred flask modelled after a golden holy chalice that was once graced by a tear of life.

I need to sit with this a moment.

Essentially- this flask looks startlingly similar to the flask seen in multiple images of Marika, as well as the unknown chthonic statue of a woman we see frequently associated with the sword-holding statues. For ease of access, I’ll be looking at the talisman Erdtree’s Favor.

The first thing to note is the positioning of the flask in relation to Marika’s body. It’s a womb reference, plain and simple. She’s pouring an endless stream of life out of a vessel held over her lower abdomen, hands cupped in a very careful and maternal way.

The description reads as follows:

A talisman depicting a special blessing of the Erdtree.

Slightly raises maximum HP, stamina, and equip load.

It is said that when the Age of the Erdtree began, such blessings were personally bestowed upon their recipients by Queen Marika herself.

So!

While the blessings- and tears- of the Erdtree seem to come in many forms, the most special blessing it could grant would most likely be life itself. The whole womb-flask situation certainly implies some specifics. And, while I must indulge in a deep cringe here, the “holy chalice graced by a tear of life” sounds appropriately Catholic. This is fantasy eldritch Catholicism, after all.

I’m extremely convinced that the flasks we use in game to heal ourselves are ritual implements of the Golden Order involved in the gestation of tree sap babies. Maybe not as literally as a womb, but they’ve phrased it about as bluntly as my abstinence-only sex ed classes ever did. If the flasks are only modeled after the true holy chalice- probably the one Marika is depicted with- it’s still the equivalent of eating out of a cradle shaped bowl or something, and my questions about the sacred tears have still not been answered.

Do we eat babies? Soup of baby? Infant broth? It’s unclear. We do seem to consume life itself, perhaps even souls. The nature of what exactly runes are is something to explore in another post. Either way, thank you for coming to my TED talk, I’m going to go make myself a sandwich.

[savebatsfromscratch]

Of course he rolled a one - Palletshipping Week 5 (Sickness)

Summary:

Ash and Gary are both sick. For some reason, they decide this is the best time to play a RPG game.

Notes:

Prompt: Sickness Note: My dad is currently sick with a cold, and as a result we had the time to play Talisman (a board game from the 90s) I won and was sufficiently inspired. The game might not make sense if you’ve never played the game (sidenote: if you can find the game, and like RPG games, I HIGHLY recommend it), but it IS a real game. Words: 1,128

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54915760

Gary sneezed.

“Blesshoo,” Ash slurred, his voice much quieter than normal due to his sore throat. He gestured to the dice that sat on the table beside Gary. It was green, and missing some of its spots, which made it perfect for the tower than both of their player pieces currently sat in, “dice?”

Gary groaned and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He had been hoping that Ash would have forgotten the fact that he and his Sorceress card had lost one of their turns, but it seemed that Ash had a better memory than Gary was giving him credit for. 

Begrudgingly, he passed Ash the dice, hoping (as if to beam bad luck into it), that the spot Ash landed on would have him draw a turn wasting card as well. Or at the very least only go one spot closer to the Dragon King. He’d only been in the tower for two turns, and he had rolled a two and a three, almost the highest amounts of moves he could make in there. (Gary, on the other hand, had been paralyzed every other turn and only moving ones. …for the past five turns.)

With only two people playing, the game had been going rather slowly, (even with the modification to level up every four XP instead of every seven), and Gary didn’t think he could emotionally take it if he lost now. Maybe that was a side effect of his status as a “rival,” he was too competitive for his own good.

Ash rolled another three.

Gary bashed his head into the table, feeling his nose re-clog up at the change in pressure. Ash laughed out loud, and then hissed in pain when the laughing hurt his throat further. There was a small pause as Ash recovered, and then they both began giggling quietly. (Even though Ash sounded like a kicked puppy every time he laughed.)

This was the most ridiculous thing ever.

They were both sick, and instead of resting nice in bed, they had both spontaneously decided to pull out the two hour long RPG board game. Sitting calmly with their Pokemon? Never. Why not fight some silly dragon king as characters drawn in a mildly grotesque art style? PERFECT.

Ash read over the space he had landed on, and then made a face that Gary knew meant it was a draw two spot. Gary smirked to the best of his ability, though he could tell he was going to need a new supply of tissues for his running nose in about three seconds. Maybe he still had a shot at this! (He was only one spot away from the dragon’s lair after all.)

Ash scrambled to pull his cards, just as worried as Gary had been only moments before. Gary’s grin grew wider. Even if his eyes hurt from the bright light from the windows and his illness, he was going to keep them open when he watched Ash pull a card that, he wasn’t sure, took away all his followers or something. (If Gary had been the one playing the Vampire, he would have long since eaten the guide in a place like this. Ash was down on hearts anyway.)

But he didn’t feel like voicing any strategy to someone who was already winning on luck.

Gary studied Ash’s face as he continued to struggle with the cards. (They had both stubbornly refused to un-rubber-band the Tower deck, thinking that whoever got in first would be done with it quickly. That had not been the case.) He looked scared, which only made Gary feel more giddy.

But Ash’s immediate grin when he finally managed to pull the cards immediately crushed Gary’s momentary feeling of joy.

“Craft!” Ash whispered, holding up a card which Gary recognized as one that would give him extra stats if he decided to use it. Worse, the other card didn't seem to apply either. Without any items, there wasn't any risk of Ash losing them. Gary groaned and Ash stuck his tongue out at him.

Ash fumbled for the craft counter, piling it atop his already mountainous pile of blue papers. When he went to put the paper in its proper place, however, the entire pile slid apart, running flat into his equally monstrous collection of strength tokens.

Ash grinned, but made a face at his hurting throat. Gary was not in the mood to laugh at the accident. This was just like Pokemon battling. You could be so sure you were about to win, and then loose to a Pokemon you had the advantage over.

Ash began fixing his piles of stat counters, and Gary reached for the dice. Freed of his paralysis, he knew he only had to roll a two, and he would be in the dragon's den.

He just had to roll a two. Just a two. Anything but a one.

He shook the dice between his hands, eyes closed in focus or as if praying. (He wasn't quite sure himself.)

He tossed the dice, grinned as it spun around its corners, about to land on a three, and then watched in something similar to horror as it hit the lower half of the tower piece of the board and flipped over. Over and over.

Of course he rolled a one.

“ONE?!” He cried out, jumping to his feet, ”WHY!?“

Ash snickered, even though it must have hurt.

With twenty craft under his belt, there wasn't even a purpose in attempting to beat him as the dragon king.

Dejectedly, Gary moved his piece to the spot right outside of the dragon king's hall. Ash, who had already been there, triumphantly moved his piece to the top of the tower. Gary checked through his spells one more time, but no, there wasn't much he could do with two healings.

“You won,” Gary muttered, feeling quite like he had just lost a large profile league.

But his anger at being beaten began to fade as Ash jumped to his feet in celebration. Despite being annoying, the guy could be pretty cute when he was happy.

Maybe it made sense for Pokemon trainers to do something like this, after all. Even though they were both too sick to have much fun actually Pokemon battling, they could still have a lot of fun making up battles of their own.

“Still can’t beat me in Pokemon battling though,” Gary muttered, though he was grinning.

Unable to respond properly, Ash smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Despite his best efforts, he was soon giggling mutedly, and hissing in pain when it hurt his throat. (This only seemed to make him laugh more.)

Gary began laughing too. 

He wondered if they both had fevers.

Gary sneezed again.

Notes:

Man I love Palletshipping. (This also serves as a love letter to Talisman lol. I hope someone else out there knows what I’m talking about. Btw my favorite character to play is the Sorceress!! I won with a combo of the Lightning spell and the Psionic Blast spell. I didn’t even have any weapons or followers lol, and it was the first time I’ve ever won! Very proud of myself lol.)

[twilightmalachite]

Christmas Live - Dot to Dot 1

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuuta, Shinobu

Translation Team: Mika Enstars & 310mc

EN Proofer: ryuseipuka

"Whaa, who said that… If your annoyance level is at 1, then my Aniki’s is at like 530,000, so it’s fine."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Classroom 1-B

Shinobu: (Hmhmhm~♪)

(Just a few more nights~ and it’s Chri~st~mas~♪)[1]

(Ehehe, what’s Santa-san’s present for me this year…? ♪)

(Ahh, I can barely sit still from excitement! I’m just so hyped~♪)

(Because Christmas only means one thing, and that’s of course… Ninjas! ☆)

(The skillful art of fulfilling one’s mission by infiltrating a home without being caught! Santa-san is truly a descendant of ninja, who has survived until the present day!)

(Even his fashion sense also somewhat resembles that of a ninja, in my opinion…!)

(That’s why during Christmas time, I get so happy~ It feels as though my comrades have grown~♪)

(In fact…! One day, I will become someone splendid and famous… And then, I’ll absolutely make ninjas as mainstream as Santa-san!)

(And once that happens, I’ll make Hattori Hanzō’s death anniversary into a national holiday~♪)[2]

(That’s another reason why I will do my best with my idol activities! Although, I believe there isn’t any work for RYUSEITAI today?)

(Actually, for a few days now, we have had days off from not only work, but practice, too…)

(Well, we might suddenly be called over for something, like how we were during the summer holiday…)[3]

(Taichou-dono makes sure to provide us with sufficient days off overall. But on the other hand, that means we tend to be overworked when we do have work…?)

Shinobu: (Mm~ It feels lonely~… Without any RYUSEITAI activities, I end the school day talking to practically nobody.)

(I’m aware that ninjas live by concealing themselves without uttering a word, though…)

(……I’m really starting to feel sad now. It is getting chilly out lately~ They say that “cold” and “lonely” go hand-in-hand during these times.)

(Maybe I'll call Isara-dono on my phone… Wait, no, he is probably busy with Student Council work right now.)

(Perhaps I’ll try visiting him under the pretext of helping him out with work… But would that just bother him instead? Urmm~?)

…Fwah!?

S-Something just fell down! This is… hmm, a talisman?

Yuuta: Oh, sorry. Do you mind picking up that flier for me, Shinobu-kun?

Shinobu: Ah, a flier? Oh yes, I see that it’s advertising a shop’s Christmas sale. I’ll pick it up right way, Yuuta-kun~♪

…Wait—What on earth are you doing?

You’re adeptly balancing yourself at the top of a crazy amount of piled up chairs!

Fuhaah, acrobatics~! You’re a skilled performer, Yuuta-kun! ♪

Yuuta: I’m sure even you can do this much, Shinobu-kun. Since you’re crazy lightweight, and all.

I just don’t want to be wasting any of my time… I don’t want to miss out on any training I can get done while doing something else.

I’m working on my sense of balance right now. Wanna join, Shinobu-kun?

Shinobu: Ah, no, no. I’m scared to climb onto what looks like some sort of new party game~ You’ll only injure yourself if the chairs end up collapsing, you know~?

Yuuta: Heheh, as if I’d mess up doing this. …You’ve been chatting with me lately, Shinobu-kun, I’m happy~. ♪

Shinobu: Huh? U-Um!? I apologize! Have I been annoying you!?

Yuuta: Whaa, who said that… If your annoyance level is at 1, then my Aniki’s is at like 530,000, so it’s fine.

Shinobu: I’m not sure I understand that logic… That being said, why have you been looking at that flier?

Are you perhaps going to hold a Christmas party? Are you trying to find the right cake to buy?

Yuuta: Hm~. Well, Aniki goes all out and makes a super huge cake every year for no good reason.

‘Cause you know, he’s got a sweet tooth. What one likes, one will do best, and so that guy’s great at making stuff like sweets.

Well, anyway. Basically, I’m looking for work.

Since it’s almost Christmas, you know? I thought maybe there’d be some shops looking for people to liven things up.

Shinobu: Oooh! You’re so diligent, trying to find work even during Christmas. Are you a vassal of Santa-san, perhaps…? ☆

Yuuta: My Santa is Aniki~, ‘cause the person who’s apparently my father isn’t too enthusiastic about those sorts of things.

That’s not it, though—Holidays are a good time for idols to earn some money, aren’t they?

I’d like to find a way to make my seniors look better, or rather… I wanna sell 2wink better, since we’re comparatively mediocre.

Well, the leader is supposed to be the one to think about this sort of thing, though.

But since all Aniki’s thinking about are Christmas cakes right now… I gotta be the one to find some work to do.

You can help me if you want, Shinobu-kun! If you’re not busy, that is.

Shinobu: O-Okay. RYUSEITAI has the day off today, so I shall assist you~♪

Yuuta: You strong units can afford to do that, huh. …But you better watch your step, you don’t know when you’ll lose your footing!

‘Cause startin’ next year, 2wink will be takin’ over Yumenosaki Academy! ♪

Shinobu: Mhm, hard work deserves to be rewarded. Ahaha, not that I have any right to say something as impudent as that~

How about this shop’s job offer? You’ll wear Santa-san’s outfit while selling cakes! ♪

Yuuta: That’s just a regular old part-time job. I was hoping for something more idol-like…

Yuuta: Hmm… It kinda feels like all the good jobs got taken up by the other units, I guess?

I’d like to increase 2wink’s market value, though… Maybe I’ll ask Anzu-san, like, “Give me a job as a Christmas present ♪”, or something?

[ ☆ ]

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Shinobu is singing a different variation of the song mou ikutsu neru to oshougatsu (Just a few more nights, and it's New Years). Read more here, with the lyrics.

Hattori Hanzō was a famous ninja in the Sengoku era. Read more here.

Referring to Pirate Festival, which happened in summer.

[aquariaries]

Shin Tsukinami Heaven Story - Chaos Lineage

***I do not mind if you use my translations as a base for another language, I just ask that you credit me if you do!***

PLACE: Shopping Mall - Indoors

Shin: Wow. As expected, it's crowded because it's a holiday.

Yui: Yeah that's true.

(Today I'm out shopping with Shin-kun at the mall.)

(Shin-kun said he was going to buy new earrings, so I followed him.)

(Because it's been so long, I'm really happy. I wonder how Shin-kun is feeling ... ... ?)

(Is he having fun?)

Shin: Hey. What are you staring at people's faces for?

Yui: Eh! I-I'm not staring!

Shin: Don't lie. I can tell right away when I see that grinning face of yours.

Yui: Am I really grinning that much ... ... ? It's been a long time since I went on a date with Shin-kun, so I'm just really happy.

Shin: Hmm, is that so.

Y'know, when you say such cute things like that ... ...

I'll end up attacking you instantly?

Yui: Sh- Shin-kun ... ... !

Shin: I'm kidding. Let's go over there next. A new shop has opened up.

Yui: O-okay!

*They start walking, followed by a slight time skip*

*Shop bells ring*

Shin: Heeh. So this kind of design is popular now.

Yui: (Shin-kun has been absorbed in the accessories for awhile now.)

(It's nice to see Shin-kun having fun but, ... ... I'm feeling a little lonely, I guess.)

Hey, Shin-kun. Did you find something you like?

Shin: More or less. There were various ones after all.

Hey, look at this! They're earrings in the shape of nuts! How interesting.

Yui: You're right, how unusual!

(After all, Shin-kun loves nuts.)

Shin: Then, these ones are in the shape of fangs. Nice.

Fangs can also be used as talismans. In particular, the wolf's fangs are said to ward off evil spirits.

Yui: Heeh, I didn't know that. Is that so.

(Shin-kun has real fangs, so his are much stronger.)

Shin: Originally, accessories like these are stronger as talismans than as decorations.

Yui: You know alot huh? Shin-kun, do you also like accessories?

Shin: Of course. Just looking at them is tons of fun.

Yui: What kinds do you like?

Shin: Hmmmm. Let's see ... ...

I especially like things that sparkle I guess.

Yui: Now that you mention it, you've been picking up nothing but sparkling things since a while ago.

Shin: They just really attract me. They're so eye-catching.

Yui: Maybe I have something in common with you Shin-kun.

(It's like he's a dog that will suck something glittering into its mouth ... ... How cute.)

Heheh.

Shin: Hold up, what are you laughing at? You weren't thinking of something rude just now were you?

Yui: Nope! I wasn't, not at all!

Shin: Hah ... ... I wonder about that. Well whatever. More than that, it's boring if I'm only choosing ... ...

Yui: ... ... ?

Shin: I'll choose something perfect for you.

Yui: Really? Shin-kun will pick something out for me?

Shin: Yep.

Even with this, I sometimes choose accessories for my brother.

Yui: Eh! For Carla-san!?

Shin: Yep. Something flashy and rugged that is suitable for the Founder King. Well, I ended up being turned down for no reason in the end though.

Yui: (I-is that so ... ...)

Shin: But, I'm pretty confident in my sense of style.

So, it's perfectly fine if you leave it to me.

Yui: (I don't think it's okay if he were to hear what you just said though ... ...)

(What if he chooses a very flashy accessory? It surely won't be suitable ... ...)

Shin: You're making such an uneasy face. You really are too easy to read.

Yui: (Ah ... ... I let my uneasiness show on my face.)

Shin: Don't worry so much, I'll find something that suits you perfectly.

Or is it that you don't trust me?

Yui: That's not it at all!

Shin: Then it's fine.

Yui: ... ... Yeah. Well then, may I ask to leave it up to you?

Shin: Yes, it's been decided!

Let's see ... ... For now, what do you think of this choker?

Yui: Wow ... ...

(It's much cuter than I thought it'd be. It's not too flashy either.)

(The hydrangea-colored cloth is bordered with lace, and the top has pearls like morning dew!)

Shin: You do like this sort of thing don't you?

Yui: Yeah! I like it! It fits my taste perfectly! You know me well.

Shin: Well yeah, it's not like we aren't dating or anything so.

Yui: ... ... Th-that's true.

(... ... I'm more happy than I expected I'd be that he was thinking about what I like.)

Shin: There's still plenty of things to try and match? Here, this is next.

Take a look at this necklace.

Yui: Wow ... ... ! This is cute too!

(This time, the motif is a small lily of the valley flower. It has such a small and cute feel to it.)

Shin: Look, this hairpin and the design are the same!

Yui: Wearing them together would be really fashionable.

Shin: Right?

*He comes closer*

Shin: I'm putting it in your hair.

Yui: ... ... Ah.

(Ah, he's touching my hair ... ...

... ... It tickles ... ...)

Shin: Then I'll put the necklace on and try matching it.

Yui: Ah ... ...

Shin: Hey now, don't move, you have to stay still.

Yui: (Just thinking about Shin-kun putting it in my hair and putting the necklace around my neck makes me sensitive to his touch.)

Shin: There. They're both cute.

*He backs up*

Yui: Th-thank you ... ...

(I'm happy that he put these on me, but my heart is really pounding ... ...)

(Shin-kun's face, it's so close ... ...

When I saw the reflection in the mirror, it looked as if our cheeks were almost stuck together.)

(To where even my own sigh would hit my cheek.)

Shin: Hey, how about something like this for a change?

Yui: These are, earrings with wolf motifs?

(Wow ... ... The earrings is just like a wolf's face.)

(Wearing a crown of roses, it's kind of cool ... ...)

(Besides, this wolf has the same fur color as Shin-kun, it's kind of embarrassing because I feel like I'm looking at him in a way ... ...)

Shin: Did you not like those?

Yui: Eh, ah! Not at all! I just thought that they were too cool ... ...

*He comes closer*

Shin: What? Have you fallen even more in love with me?

Yui: ... ... Ah! G-geez! Shin-kun ... ... !

Shin: Eheheh ... ... Your face is red!

Well, you're so cute when you get like that.

Here, I'll put them on for you so stay still.

Yui: (Ah ... ... Again ... ... !)

(Shin-kun's fingertips are touching my ear and it tickles ... ...)

... ... Nnn.

(Oh no, I let a weird voice out ... ... !)

Shin: I said not to move.

Yui: ... ... R-right.

(Even if he tells me not to move ... ...)

... ... ah.

(If you touch me like that, on the contrary, I will end up unconsciously letting my voice out ... ...)

(His fingertips are moving back and forth around my ears many times ... ...)

Shin: Eheheh ... ... Which angle is the best I wonder~, I can't decide~

Yui: ... ... Shin-kun ... ... Again ... ...?

Shin: ... ... Hm? What? You can't wait? But, I want to put the prettiest on you after all.

Yui: (Ah, there he goes again ... ... He stroked behind my ear. Even if I endure it, my shoulders start to sway a little ... ...)

Shin: Ehehe. What's wrong? You're swaying. You have to stay still.

Yui: That's because ... ... ! Isn't Shin-kun tickling me on purpose?

Shin: What are you talking about? I'm not. I'm amazed, have you been thinking that I was doing that for a while now?

Yui: (No way ... ... ! He was definitely touching me on purpose and enjoying my reaction.)

(I want him to put it on quickly and finish!)

*He backs away*

Shin: All done. Here, take a look in the mirror.

Yui: (Haah ... ... My heart was pounding ... ...)

... ... Wh-what do you think?

Shin: ... ... *gasps* !

Yui: (... ... ?)

*He blushes*

Shin: N-nothing. It's nothing. Well, it does suit you well, doesn't it?

Yui: Really? Thank you ... ! I'm so happy ... ... !

Shin: What's with that shy face ... ...

Yui: (Unexpectedly it matches my hair color amazingly!)

This one is my favorite.

Shin: Ah ... ... ... ...

Yui: ... ... ?

(Somehow, from looking through the mirror I can tell that the atmosphere around Shin-kun has changed--)

(I wonder what happened? Besides, things may have even become a little ... ... strange.)

Yui: Shin-kun?

*He comes closer and blows in her ear*

Shin: ... ... Fuu *blows*

Yui: ... ... Ah!

(J-j-just now, he blew into my ear ... ... !)

Shin: ... ... Nnn *kiss*

Yui: Ah ... ...

(What's wrong, why is Shin-kun suddenly like this ... ... Nn.)

Shin: I've been holding back since a while ago, but now that I put them on I'm already at my limit.

Yui: ... ... Wh-why is that?

Shin: 'Cause those earrings make it look as if I was the one biting you.

Yui: Eh, a-as if you were the one biting me ... ...

(C-could it be, that it's like ... ... When he sucks my blood?)

Shin: Hey, you know it don't you?

What it is, that I want to do right now?

*He bites her ear*

Shin: Ah ... ... Nnn ... ... , Nnn ... ...

Yui: (Ah ... ... He's sucking ... ... From my earlobe ... ... !)

*Continues to bite her and blushes*

Shin: Nnnn ... ... , Haah ... ...

Yui: Sh-Shin-kun ... ... ! Wait!

Shin: *Sucks* Nnn ... ... Haa? Why?

Yui: Really ... ... Ah ... ... Wait!

Shin-kun ... ... ! Because we're in a shop after all ... ... !

Shin: Well then, keep your voice down so that the store clerk won't notice.

Yui: Th-there's no way I can do that ... ... !

Shin: It's fine. Because the face you make when holding back, is really cute.

Yui: But ... ... !

(Does he really want to suck my blood here!?)

Please Shin-kun ... ... Can we at least wait do it until we get home?

Shin: No can do, I can't stand it. It's your fault for luring me in with that sweet voice.

Yui: Such a thing ... ... Nnn.

*Bites*

Shin: Nnn ... ... See, even now.

Yui: ... ... Ngh.

(If he asks me like this, I can't refuse ... ...)

Shin: Do you not like being sucked by me?

Yui: That's not it at all!

Shin: Then it's fine after all.

Yui: But if it's in a shop I said it's no good ... ... ! Look, the people around us are watching!

Shin: Then let them look. Let everyone know how cute of a voice you can let out.

Even though you really get aroused from being seen. Why don't you just be honest with yourself and be happy about it?

Yui: (It shouldn't be like this way ... ... But when Shin-kun says that, I feel happy ... ...)

Yui: (However ... ... This situation is troubling to me ... ... I just don't know what to do anymore ... ... !)

-END-

[gyubby99]

@disneyanddisneyships I see everything around me and I can't help but make a new oc..

Warning: this is long asf because it involves my interests. 😦

Anyways here's my oc based on a mythological creature 😃

Yeah. Her name's Dalia (i just pick names that i think would suit her smh) and she's a creature called a "manananggal" 'cause it's literally my fave one here I'm so scared of them but at the same time it's fascinating. I think my grandma saw one when she was pregnant.

Anywho in the daytime she has a human disguise.

(I know the picrew is repetitive but idk anymore okay)

So like how it works with her is that she lives near the tree of akasya (i know because i just do.) and she fends for her human self by selling homemade rice cakes (not cursed dw it's a normal food) and when night strikes she kind of.. turns into that demonic sort of creature (she has wings) and flies around for preys to hunt.

But here's the thing.

When this happens.. she detatches her upper body from her lower body part. Yeah. A 'manananggal'. Makes sense cause it has a root word "tanggal" which is.. to remove. She literally removes her upper body from her lower half. Yeah. If you find her lower half you could see the organs. It's weird.

(I know the meaning because IT'S MY LANGUAGE AND I LIKE WEIRD MYTHS HERE)

The thing is, in the original mythology of it, creatures like these have an appetite for unborn babies. That's the connection of the thing I said earlier about my grandma seeing one while she was pregnant. They hunt pregnant women.

But in MY version because this is MY character, she hunts.. well- you guessed it. Men. It's my birthday I can make a man-killer oc as much as I want.

Yeah.. so she just flies around in the upper half of her body with wings.. with exposed intestines and stuff.

And she has. A long. Ass. Tongue. From the roof to the very bed you sleep on. That's how long. (Like if you have a smaller house or something)

She would never prey on a pregnant woman.. unless the pregnant woman doesn't want the kid. Or like if it's a literal kid that carries the unborn child. She makes an exception.

Then she hunts the heart of the father. Cool.

Sadly she has a weakness. So she can be killed. If someone finds her lower half and rubs salt or ash or garlic over her exposed flesh.. she dies. No more man killer ☹☹

She lives alone with her "friends" (other creatures found to be a threat to regular humans) also

For the million dollar question.. I am still uncertain of her 🌈preference🌈 iyk what i mean.

I mean.. if Deena kills men near the sea..

Who's gonna take care of the land? (Ik she could but majority of the land ig)

Also trivia because i wanna do this.

- she has killed a fellow creature before. Crazy part is that it's her brother.

- overthinking if I should give her a Sigbin pet.

Okay I'm scared of these things and the only way for me not to be is to make it absolutely wholesome or hot. So do not mind it if I make her pet act family friendly. Moving on.

- also, she has another weakness that can't kill her, but can keep her away. Any sort of like.. amulets or charm.. talisman is also a word for that. Just to keep her away for the time being. (She's very strong but she also has a lot of weaknesses)

- I'd like to believe that if she were in the hellaverse (hazbin/helluva) she'd be an imp. I do believe one can kill her but if she arrives in hell idk if that would make her a sinner since.. she wasn't intentionally human. It's a disguise. Maybe like.. hell would just be a prison she can't get out of. Like you're not technically dead but you're there.

(Edit: okay. I can see her as an overlord now)

- she doesn't wanna kill people until she found out not everyone was innocent.

- she's very fond of sirens. She actually lives in a forest near a waterfall so there are definitely sirens there. She keeps an eye out of one and im pretty sure that's her hyperfixation. I think she has friends who are also sirens considering how much she loves them :DD

- "does it hurt when she detatches?" Sometimes it does, sometimes it feels like a small stretch.

- you CAN look at her respectfully. This is actually a fun fact. She's mother. 😍

- she's a shapeshifter. She can shapeshift into any person you know. That's another way to lure people. But she likes her human disguise so much sometimes she doesn't wanna transform. But she's gotta survive 😔

Idk that's all I can think of. I don't mind asks about stuff like her fav color i guess. Idk. #slay

[birb-tangleblog]

TTS Brotherhood Ask Game!!! :)))))

9. Who do you think is the most skilled in fighting?

14. Do you think the Brotherhood should continue with new members?

18 What is a cool headcanon that you liked from someone else?

9. Who do you think is the most skilled in fighting?

Ohhh man, this is a tough one- I see them as pretty evenly matched? I can imagine them all countering each other in different ways, and perhaps having favorable/unfavorable matchups- though I think they're all be close enough in skill that any fight would be a tossup.

Honestly, I kinda want to compare them to a starter trio from pkmn? (or rock paper scissors lmao)

Hector -> Quirin -> Adira maybe?

I feel like Hector's win condition against Quirin would be to outmaneuver and take him down before he runs out of stamina. Quirin is a tank, but also slower and the easiest to outspeed- Hector's aggression and decisiveness benefits him here.

Quirin, in turn, would win a war of attrition against Adira- if Adira didn't engage, he wouldn't burn himself out like Hector would. He can play just as defensively and patiently as she can, and out-endure.

And like we saw in the series, Adira has an excellent balance between strength, defense, and dexterity, and leverages each to her advantage. I'm not sure one member of the brotherhood is objectively the most skilled fighter, but of the three, imo she's probably the most reliable.

If we're talking canon/post-series and not hypothetical matchups, I debate on if Hector or Adira would be stronger. Quirin is obviously rusty, so he's out. Hector is isolated, and not necessarily fighting skilled opponents most of the time- but he probably practices and drills himself religiously. Adira's out in the world, so more likely to encounter trouble and test her skills- but she also might avoid fights because it's safe/practical.

We do see Adira beat Hector in a fight in RatGT, buuut I think that could've gone either way.

14. Do you think the Brotherhood should continue with new members?

Honestly, no! I think the Brotherhood, as it was, needed to come to an end. The secrecy, the demand of loyalty to the point of self-destruction and sacrifice, the legacy of the moonstone and the mindtrap talisman… it's better left in the past. (I also tend to HC that the Brotherhood favored recruiting orphans or children who otherwise had nothing, which is another reason the system would need to change in my mind.)

I think the Brotherhood could definitely reform, possibly under a new name, and become more inclusive/healthy- I really like the HC that in a canon-compliant ending, Hector goes on to be a teacher/mentor for the next gen- but part of rebuilding the DK would be starting that part of it anew.

18. What is a cool headcanon that you liked from someone else?

Xannerz has really cool thoughts on the DK and the Brotherhood!! Hard to pick just one w/ all our chatter, but I really like her headcanon that not everyone left the DK in the evacuation and a small handful of the citizens stayed behind. Ones who were older or sick, and just couldn't make the long journey, or maybe who refused to leave out of love/loyalty to their home- Edmund wouldn't have been completely alone, but it's still bleak and tragic in its own way.

Meechatuck's idea that Quirin is actually quite skilled at picking locks and Mo (rainyday-deer)'s old HC that Hector whittles are also both very cute to me!

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 70: May 2017

Jon was trying so hard to be sensible and brave.

After Elias had lectured—no, not lectured, scolded, like they were a pair of naughty children—him and Melanie for their rash behavior in going to the Trophy Room and forbidden them to do any more field research without authorization and proper supervision, he’d been making an effort to actually do his job. Melanie had thrown her nervous energy into trying to figure out how Martin, who was apparently the only one that ever paid attention to his own systems, had organized the Archives, while Jon had taken over the research into the log book from Breekon and Hope. He couldn’t tell the difference between the real and fake handwriting any better than Melanie could, but he figured looking up each and every delivery source and recipient would help better than impulsively throwing himself at desperate chances.

It was hard to stay focused, though. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from pinning all his hopes on each new name he found, and being crushed when it turned out to be closed or completely innocuous or thoroughly unrelated. He kept wandering to the statements, even the fake ones, barely interested in the follow-up anymore but still trying because maybe this one would be the key to the Unknowing’s location. And it was harder and harder to keep himself from going off on an impulsive adventure. Only Tim’s snapping and Sasha’s nagging kept him—or Melanie—confined to the Archives.

But Tim had called out today. He sounded like he needed it, but he also sounded calmer than he had since before Martin went missing, so Jon had had no problem accepting. Still…it meant one fewer person to keep him from doing something impulsive and stupid.

He tried to distract himself by going to the breakroom to get cocoa for everyone. He didn’t even know if Basira drank hot chocolate, but he wasn’t making tea, that was Martin’s thing and he refused to contemplate the idea that he wouldn’t be back to do it someday. It took some concentration to juggle four mugs at once, but he managed it and headed back to the Archives after longer than he would have liked. Sasha was at her desk, Basira in her usual corner, but Melanie was nowhere to be seen. Jon left a mug at Basira’s elbow—whether she’d notice or not he had no idea—and set another on Sasha’s desk, then looked towards the climate-controlled document storage room.

“She went to the bathroom,” Sasha said, startling Jon so much he almost dropped both mugs he was still holding. She reached up and took Melanie’s from him, then set it smoothly on her desk. “She’ll be right back…uh, I think she left something for you on your desk a minute ago, but I don’t know what.”

If it had been anyone else, Jon might have been apprehensive about what was on his desk. But it was Melanie, and he knew he could trust her. Clutching his mug of cocoa tightly like a talisman, he headed into his office to see what was going on.

It was, probably unsurprisingly, a tape. On top of it was a sticky note with Melanie’s handwriting scrawled across it: Think this is the one you didn’t want to record last week.

Jon shut the door to his office, then sat down and slowly moved the note to one side. Sure enough, the tape was labeled in Martin’s handwriting, a slight lefty slant to his otherwise precise, even handwriting. It simply had the file number, 9971402, and the words Internal Use Only, with no further identification. That wasn’t necessarily unusual; even Gertrude’s labels had rarely made sense to anyone but her, and they really only needed to know what tapes went with what folders. But Martin usually added a word or two to jog their memories if they were just pulling the tapes, and he always wrote the speaker’s name underneath the file number. This one he hadn’t. It was almost like he hadn’t wanted anyone to listen to it…or maybe that he did, that he wanted Jon to be so curious he would just listen without investigating.

That wasn’t like Martin, to tempt him. Martin was usually extremely careful to keep Jon from falling further into the Eye’s clutches. Maybe he’d just been in a hurry.

Still…Jon wanted to listen to it. And it had nothing to do with the Beholding. He wanted to listen to it because Martin had recorded it. He wanted to hear Martin’s voice, to imagine him sitting on the other side of the desk reading it, to picture the way his face relaxed and his shoulders straightened and his beautiful green eyes seemed to shine brighter than ever when he spoke the words, and wow, Jon was smitten. If he hadn’t realized how hard he’d fallen for Martin before, the fact that he was thinking about something as objectively both horrifying and terrifying as the statements that led them further and further into the clutches of an evil otherworldly being and all he could think of was how pretty Martin looked in those moments would be a pretty big tell.

He took a deep breath and popped the tape into the recorder, then hit PLAY.

For a moment, there was nothing, just a faint rustling. Then Martin’s voice came out, shaking slightly. “Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, recording statement number 9971402, statement of Police Constable Thad Williams. Statement given fourteenth of February, 1997. File marked ‘For Internal Use Only.’ Statement begins.”

As Jon listened, he heard the change in Martin’s voice, the way he relaxed and sank into the statement, the way it took him over and let him speak calmly and coherently. It sent an ache through his entire body, largely centered around the heart, as much because of the fact that it was Martin’s voice as it was the implications of what that meant. He leaned his chin into his hands and stared vacantly at the tape recorder, listening as the statement spooled out, or at least the lead-up to it—the statement-giver seemed to mostly be complaining about his idiotic bully of a nephew, who was likely going to end up either in prison or the victim of an organ-harvesting scam. Jon was willing to bet this would end up being a Flesh statement, especially after the statement said the boy had gone missing without warning.

Then he heard the words Jurgen Leitner, and he sat up and paid closer attention.

It only took a couple more sentences for Jon’s heart to leap into his throat as the truth struck him like a thunderbolt. The Leitner being discussed was his. This was the young man whose name he’d never been able to remember, the one who’d saved his life inadvertently, and someone had made a statement about his disappearance and the search for him. He wasn’t surprised that the constable had found neither his nephew nor the book, but…

But he’d known about it, too. He’d known Leitner existed, and what the books meant. If Jon had known that…would it have made a difference?

“Statement ends.” There was a quick intake of breath from the other end, and when Martin’s voice came back, it was shaking again. “It took a little bit of, uh, I had to use some sleight of hand to keep Jon from recording this one, but…Jon, if you’re listening to this tape, I’m sorry, but I didn’t think you were ready for it. You just got back, and with everything else you’ve been through lately, I figured…I thought maybe I’d give you some time before you have to think about this. I’m hoping I’m sitting there with you for this, because I think you’re going to need the support. If I’m not there…well, come find me if you need me.”

Another deep breath, and this time, when Martin spoke, it was in the same tone of voice Jon had noticed him using for most of his summaries. “Investigating statements marked ‘internal use only’ is always a bit trickier than usual. Most of the time there’s some kind of nondisclosure agreement surrounding the events, or it’s something that was given to us in the nature of a priest’s confessional—something that was never discussed outside the Institute—which means that we have to be careful about any follow-up we do, and it’s naturally going to be more cursory. In this case, though, the incident predated the Freedom of Information Act by three years, and was even before the election that made that a campaign promise, so it wasn’t technically a Section Thirty-One case, which gave me a little more leeway into the research. Still, it’s been twenty years, so I knew there’d only be so much I could find. And I wasn’t about to let anyone else help with this one. I figured the fewer people who knew about it until Jon got back, the better.

“I got lucky, though. I went down to Bournemouth and made contact with P.C. Zacharias Smith, who’s now the captain of the entire precinct. He confirmed that Thomas Warner is still considered a missing person and the case is still open. Mr. Williams retired from the force about five years after this incident, but…well, there aren’t a whole lot of care facilities that deal with his issues and will take people under a certain age, and it just so happens that he turned out to be in the same place as…my mother, despite it being at the other end of the country, so it wasn’t hard for me to get in to talk to him, especially since he never gets—got, I guess—visitors. He was dying when I went in to see him, but his mind was sharp enough, or at least as sharp as it needed to be. He told me a bit more about his conversation with the ‘bright young spark’ who set him on the right path, and he was really concerned about him. I’m glad I could ease his distress enough to let him know that Jon was alive and well, and that I promised I’d look after him.

“He died before I could also assure him the book wouldn’t ever hurt another child again, but I hope it will comfort anyone listening to this tape to know that A Guest for Mister Spider was the first Leitner my siblings and I found and destroyed when we decided to start burning them. I didn’t regret burning it then, and I regret it even less now.”

Click.

Jon pressed both his hands over his mouth, staring at the tape recorder, which had suddenly become very blurry. Hot, wet tears dripped onto his thumbs and he didn’t even try to stop them.

He didn’t remember. He couldn’t remember any officers he’d spoken to about what had happened, or either of them telling him they believed him, any more than he’d been able to remember Thomas Warner’s name. To suddenly find out that one of them had believed him, that someone had known all along he wasn’t making it up, was almost more than he could stand.

And the gentleness in Martin’s voice when he spoke about it almost broke him. Martin had recognized right away that it was Jon in the statement, had gone out of his way to validate and reassure Jon that it wasn’t a figment of his imagination, and then even after Jon had returned, he’d kept him from having to confront it before he was ready.

Come find me if you need me.

Jon did. He needed him more badly than he had ever needed anyone or anything in his life. And he was trying to find him, but…maybe he was going about it the wrong way. Maybe he needed help.

The question was going to be how he found that help.

It took him an hour to figure it out, most of which was spent panicking over whether he should be doing this in the first place or should ask anyone else to help him with this part. Once he’d worked it out, though, he waited until the others had gone to lunch, then shrugged into the jumper he’d pilfered from Martin headed down into the tunnels.

He hadn’t been down in them since the first day he’d been back at the Institute, since the team had shoved him and Martin down to debrief one another. They were still cool and slightly oppressive, but they also felt…private, in a way very little else in Jon’s world did anymore. As long as he didn’t spend too long down here, it might be a good way to keep himself from going completely round the bend if he took a bit of time to sit and miss Martin in solitude.

First, though, he had a task to complete. For a moment he thought about venturing further into the tunnels, but he very quickly realized that would be stupid; he had no idea what direction to head, and if he missed his target he would never forgive himself.

Instead, he sat on the bottom step and waited.

He had no idea how long it had been—minutes? Hours?—before he heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Jon took a deep, silent breath, got to his feet, counted mentally to three, and switched on his torch.

“Daisy,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even.

Daisy Tonner stood a few feet away, frozen like a deer in the headlights—or perhaps more accurately like a wolf in the headlights: still, but with her every muscle tensed for action, her eyes cold with anger and menace, her gaze fixed directly on him. She hadn’t even flinched away from the sudden light.

“What do you want?” she growled.

Jon swallowed hard. She still terrified him, and he didn’t doubt for a minute that she would kill him if given the opportunity. The stairs at his back were his only asset right now—the stairs, the door, and the knowledge that she didn’t know for sure that nobody outside would hear if she tore his throat out here and now. There was no sense in beating about the bush; he’d need to make his case as quickly and concisely as possible. “I want you to find Martin.”

“I’m not your bloody errand boy.” Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. “Bouchard might have me on a leash, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to fetch and carry and send messages to—”

“No, you don’t understand, he’s missing,” Jon interrupted, which was dangerous, but so was letting her think he just wanted her to do menial tasks about the Archives. “We were out on the street in front of the Institute and we got chased down by a delivery van—Breekon and Hope, the, the same ones that you told me about i-in your statement. They kidnapped him.”

Daisy snorted, sounding unimpressed. “Go to the police.”

“I am going to the police. It’s the Magnus Institute, that’s an automatic Section Thirty-One.”

“Just because you’re right about that doesn’t mean I’d even be the one who was going to investigate it.”

“I thought you were the only sectioned detective right now. Besides…” Jon gestured helplessly. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t…i-it’s been over a month. I know Elias has had you doing…other things. But I can’t just—if I go to the police now they’ll want to know why I waited so long. And you’re the only one I…”

The word trust curled up and dried out on his tongue. He didn’t trust her, couldn’t trust her. She’d tried to kill him for no reason, on no evidence, with no witnesses, and the only reason she hadn’t was because Basira had convinced her to hold off for now. Neither Basira nor Martin was there to protect or save him. If he screamed, he was pretty sure Melanie would come down, but he didn’t know which one would prevail in a fight and he refused to let anyone else get hurt in his place if he could help it.

He stood his ground, with a superhuman effort, and met Daisy’s eyes. “You owe me.”

“Owe you?” Daisy spat, and Jon would have taken a step backwards if there had been anything other than stairs behind him. “How the fuck do I owe you anything?”

For an answer, Jon traced the scar across his throat with two fingers. Six weeks meant it had faded to the point that it was nothing more than a slightly raised red line; he occasionally found himself rubbing it with his thumb like a worry stone, but at least it didn’t hurt anymore. Daisy’s eyes locked onto it, and there was something…hungry in them that Jon didn’t like.

It occurred to him, fleetingly, that the reason he didn’t like it was less because she was staring at his throat with that look and more because it was uncomfortably close to the way Martin looked at the statements on occasion.

Forcing the thought back, he said, a bit hoarsely, “I didn’t go to the police about what happened, even after what Elias said. You know I have that on tape. They would have had to believe me, and they would have…”

That fast, Daisy’s eyes snapped back up to Jon’s, blazing with anger. “You think I should be fucking grateful that you, what, saved my life?”

“Not yours. Basira’s.” Jon was aware that the beam of the torch was trembling, but he didn’t bother making himself stop. “I-I wouldn’t have, I don’t…but, but if that tape ever got into the hands of the police, Basira would be just as liable as you. That’s the only reason I didn’t say anything to the police, but I also didn’t tell Elias I had it. I gave him one less thread to hang on you, one less—one less thing to hold over Basira.”

Daisy tensed. Jon was pretty sure he’d said entirely the wrong thing and was about to die. “Why do you care so much? Don’t like other people taking your toys?”

“He’s not a toy.” For just a moment, anger overcame Jon’s fear, and he bristled at Daisy. “He’s the most important person in the world to me. I care about him more than anything, and not knowing where he is is killing me. I just—I need him to be safe, and you’re the only person I can think of who might be able to find him, if Elias hasn’t by now.” The anger left him all at once, and he added more softly, “Please, Daisy. It was me they wanted, and they took him instead. How would you feel if Basira was kidnapped in your place?”

Daisy stared at Jon hard. He held his breath, realizing he’d probably said too much, but waited it out. He’d cast his dice. All he could do now was see how they landed.

After long enough that a cold bead of sweat wended its way down the full length of his spine, she gave a sigh that sounded somewhere between exasperated, angry, and resigned. “I can’t make any promises. But I’ll do what I can.”

Jon exhaled hard. The torch drooped in his hand. “Thank you.”

“Whatever. Get out of my way. I’ve got a fucking meeting.” Daisy shoved Jon to one side and stomped up the steps.

Jon didn’t follow her. Instead, he sank back down onto the steps, his whole body trembling as the adrenaline flooded out of him. He tugged the jumper a bit tighter around his shoulders and hunched into it, leaning over and pressing the side of his face against the cool stone of the wall.

That had been an absolutely terrifying experience. It wasn’t just the fact of having faced down Daisy, who was still the thing that scared him most besides the possibility of never seeing Martin again. He really, really hadn’t enjoyed threatening Basira, whether he meant it or not. He tried to rationalize it—it wasn’t as though he’d actually meant to hurt her, or cause harm to come to her, it was just that he was letting Daisy know that if he’d chosen to do it, he could have. He wouldn’t have, but the truth was that he had the means to, and if that meant Daisy understood why he was willing to face her down and ask for her help…

No. No, he couldn’t rationalize it like that. Regardless of his intentions, he’d still done it, and that wasn’t something he wanted to get in the habit of doing. He would need to apologize to Basira later. Maybe get Melanie to help him figure out ways to…not do that again, at least until Martin was back to help him.

But not right then. Right then he was going to stay where he was and let himself hurt. He was going to give himself some time to miss Martin, and be afraid for him. And then, once he’d reminded himself that Martin would come home, and that he’d be okay, he would head back upstairs and deal with whatever consequences he had brought on himself.

For the moment, though, he simply hunched into himself, wrapped his arms as far around himself as he could, and tried his hardest not to cry.

[dreamingsushi]

Till the End of the Moon - Episode 6

It was hard at first for me to watch this drama, because I’m not a fan of the acting of Luo Yunxi, however I’m getting used to it and the storyline so far is pretty interesting. I can’t say there’s much that is very original and that I’ve never seen, but it’s entertaining. Last episode was a little hard for me, because of the violence, so I hope it won’t be too recurrent even though the male lead is a villain to become.

Susu agreed to teach Tantai Jin how to draw some talismans. The first one she teaches him allows to see beautiful sceneries. At first, he deems it’s useless, but she slowly convinces him that it’s useful, so he agrees to learn. However, because of his evil bone, there’s not a chance he could ever actually cultivate his spiritual energy. When he draws the talisman, he doesn’t work, so she tells him he needs to empty his heart of all bad thoughts, it doesn’t work all the time. He practices until late at night and gets a little annoyed at Susu for falling asleep. She ties him up with another talisman and orders him to sleep. While she cuddles him, he manages to activate one of the talisman he drew and beautiful sceneries appear again. He seems somewhat happy. Poor thing.

The king reads a report about the attack on the wedding and he does one plus one. The people from where Tantai Jin’s mom was coming from are able to talk to animals. So he figure he should get rid of Tantai Jin. He also learns about the return of Ye Xiwu’s brother.

Ye Qingyu is a very strict boy. He is very polite and is also somewhat the head of the family. Seeing that Ye Xiwu is making her elders wait for breakfast, he goes to get her, only to see her sleeping on the lap of her husband. He punishes her by slapping her hands and making her kneel. She really has no choice, even though he’s her younger brother. Later on, Chun Tao comes to Ye Xiwu because Ye Qingyu is going to find Tantai Jin. He asks him if he was reading some spells and basically kind of accuse him of being behind the crow attack since he wasn’t injured. That Ye Qingyu is very smart. Susu to the rescue, she says she has been learning and dragged him along because she was bored learning alone. She started learning because of the monster incident. Plus she testifies he had been with her the whole time. So Ye Qingyu apologizes and says that from now on he should have his meals with the rest of the family.

Tantai Jin has run out of power and he needs to find another monster to recharge. However, Ye Wuxi follows him everywhere and her brother is suspicious about him, so it won’t be an easy feat.

It doesn’t seem very important for now, but the older brother is gambling in town with a lady. I think she will be somewhat important. Anyways, he gets punished by his younger brother for hurting their family’s image.

Susu takes Tantai Jin out to go shopping. He tries to find a monster, but even though he can feel their energy, he can’t find one. The other nanny is looking for him, but won’t approach him while Ye Xiwu is next to him. They also see Ye Qingyu shopping with the lady from the gambling house. So that lady is the demon. No wonder.

Susu buys the warm clothes she promised to Tantai Jin and on their way back home, she buys everything from a lady that is still selling her firecrackers so she can go home early to spend the new year’s eve.

Maybe this recap is a little shorter than usual. A lot happened, but it was so much into the details, I’m not sure if it was important or not. So I tried to relate what seemed important, maybe I missed a few crucial infos but I’m doing my best.

[mirroringdust]

George - Chrysanthemum

Another Chapter of The "Tulips and other Flowers" One Shot series. :) Please leave kudos and comments, so I know if you enjoyed reading it and be motivated to write more :)

George's moment of Research is interrupted by Lockwood.

"What is this, George?"

George snapped. He was sitting at his desk, absorbed in some papers he had retrieved from the archives for the new case, and was just about to open them when Lockwood's voice startled him.

"You always have to disturb me at the wrong time, don't you?"

Lockwood just grinned as he leaned over George's shoulder and pointed to the bleached paper lying there.

"You need to hurry George, we want to get on with the case." He focused on the paper. "What is this, some kind of plant?"

Before George could stop him, he had ripped the paper from the stack and lifted it into the air. His eyes narrowed. "I'd work faster if you didn't keep interrupting me. I was just working on this." George snatched the paper back from Lockwood's hand, placed it on the pile of unsorted sheets and adjusted his glasses. Lockwood put his hand to his waist. He looked ready, ready to hunt a ghost.

"It's a chrysanthemum."

"What?"

"A flower," George sighed. "Seen one before?"

"On occasion, maybe." Lockwood twitched his shoulders, his gaze still pervaded by the excitement and adrenaline he always had before a case. A habit that had advantages and disadvantages. Right now more disadvantages.

"What does a flower have to do with our case?"

"Again, I could tell you if you weren't so annoying."

"I'm never annoying, I'm just trying to speed things up a bit."

"And you're slowing them down."

"Guys," that was another voice in the doorway. George turned to see Lucy leaning there with her arms crossed. "I'd prefer it if you two just got on with the preparations. I'd say it's a tiny bit important that we're prepared."

Lockwood grinned at her. "Sure, I was just checking."

"Give him a few minutes, Lockwood. Would that be all right?" She focused on George.

But he had already turned back to the drawing of the flower. His voice was swallowed by the rush of paper. "Alright."

Lockwood stood up straight, his eyes resting on George's desk for a moment. Then he turned to Lucy.

"Fine, let's check the skull again."

George heard their footsteps as they finally left the room. "I'm not sure the skull needs checking." he could hear before their voices faded.

Finally alone, George smiled. Of course, he already knew what this flower was about, he just enjoyed testing Lockwood's impatience. This flower must be important to the ghost and was most likely connected to his source in some way. George suspected a talisman or something with the flower inside. The man to whom these papers belonged had often drawn the flowers and exchanged them with his closest friends. George quickly put some papers away to get to the one underneath. The ghost they were going to hunt had been an artist when he was alive. He had drawn himself with his friends. They stood there in pencil colours, two boys and a girl, arm in arm, laughing brightly, obviously blossoming in each other's presence. Like a chosen family. That's how the man had described them in one of his diary entries.

George turned to glance at the door and the floor behind it. He saw the worn carpets and the wooden stairs. He smelled tea. He heard Lucy and Lockwood still talking and laughing. There was no denying that the drawing could be them at 35 Portland Row. A flower that would last through summer and winter. A flower symbolising friendship and happiness.

If he could draw, they would probably find a similar drawing in his files, and of that flower. George grinned as he hurried downstairs. Lucy and Lockwood would hate this drawing and they would laugh about it, but deep down they all knew what their friendship meant to each other. So much, it tied them to the living world.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Ink and Wash Daoist Priest - New Year's JZEU Series (6)

I would say we were moving in a less martial direction with this fig, but based on what I've seen of the previews, Dong Fang Yuechu wields a sword with the best of them!

Gong Jun's Daoist priest Yuechu is one of the two main stars in Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Yue Hong. The series should be airing fairly soon - hopefully early 2nd quarter 2023! The sneak peaks have been incredibly beautiful, and they have proved inspiring for our intrepid fig makers.

This handsome little man is inspired by this promo pic from iQIYI:

The writing on his arm is not, as I originally thought when I saw this photo, a tattoo. It's just a post-production add to this promo poster.

The fulu (magical Daoist talisman, analogous to an ofuda if you're familiar with them) that he's holding in his hand is also post-production.

This shoot was so gorgeous that his studio came out with a video:

Absolutely gorgeous.

No surprise this became a fig, right?

And a gorgeous fig at that. His costume is way too intricate to fully replicate in miniature form, so the fig maker wisely alluded to the prints in some key areas, vs. maybe overwhelming the fig with tons of patterns.

It's hard to explain, but this fig is .... very slightly textured. It has this soft velvety feel to the PVC all the way around. It's not restricted to certain areas to create a different texture from the regular smooth PVC finish, it's the whole fig. It's very pleasant to the touch. I think of it as kind of a matte velvet finish, but I'm sure there's a technical name for it.

This is a great view of his enormous ornate silver guan. As you saw from the original picture, the hair crowns in Fox Spirit Matchmaker make ordinary ones look downright plain.

The factory did a great job on his hair and guan - no silver overspray at all. I like how his robes have motion to them in the back.

A very regal look here, helped by another view of that incredible guan. I also like how the fig maker designed his posture - he doesn't have the Fig Forward Lean (tm) we see so often which makes the fig look unbalanced, he has more of a forward motion to him with the robes trailing out behind him. That does a nice job offsetting the weight of the head and makes him a nicely stable fig.

This fig is just beautiful all the way around. The green moons in his eyes, the silver mark on his forehead, the simple yet elegant design of his robes. I like the touches of blush on his face, his ears, and his hands - subtle and delicate.

The sword finger mudra is also one of my favorite ones in general, so this fig gets an A+ all the way around.

You can see here that he has pants, but they aren't delineated by color. Even the boots are the same robe colored green. Which makes total sense, since no one can see when he's standing. You know how I just like all the little hidden and totally unnecessary details!

Sorry Yuechu for the extreme closeup, but I was trying to get a good shot of the print down the side of his outer hanfu. I need a tiny camera!

Yet another beautiful box from this maker. I love them all!

Material: PVC (velvet matte)

Fig Count: 258

Scene Count: 19

Rating: As beautiful and elegant as a painting

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[thecreativeforge-a]

continued from x | @therebetterbepie

When Roy first encountered demons, and the slaughter that followed in their wake, he didn't imagine it was something that would be coming back to haunt him. Sure, Roy had encountered many oddities and supernatural phenomenon in his lifetime, both of this world and beyond, that nothing should phase him. Unfortunately, there was something about demons that deeply unsettled the archers, especially now that him and Dean found out they were targeting vigilantes in particular.

Maybe it was because they couldn't really exist on their own; they needed a body to be able to walk this plane, as Dean explained it to him before. Demons in human skins, taking away a life of a human being just because they want to, altering the body and the mind as they wish; most possessed humans weren't themselves if they managed to release themselves of the demon's grasp, if they were even left alive at all.

It should, admittedly, be a scary concept to Roy. But he had faced death so many times, thought of it so many times, that death and him felt like old acquaintances by now. No, it was the thought those demons would come after the people he cared for that troubled him, or the thought they would use him to hurt those he cared for. Dean included.

They hunkered down at a hideout, and Dean got straight to work. At first, Roy tried to talk to him while he was reading his files and books, but the hunter barely responded as he tried to focus. Eventually, Roy got the message, and left Dean to be. He headed to another room and left the door semi open, going over to the open window and staring at the view of the motel's empty parking lot. His fingers were messing about with the anti-possession talisman around his neck as he kept quiet, leaning sideways against the window frame, his mind spiraling back to his thoughts. Plans of trying to solve this, possible solutions to keep everyone he loved safe. His family, his friends, Dean...

His hands reach to wrap around himself, subconsciously rubbing his arms as to soothe his tension. Maybe he was scared.

Jolting at the sudden greeting and snapping out of his own focus, Roy turned to look at Dean as he approached from behind him, hand on the small of his back and fingers brushing up and down the line of his spine. It was a grounding feeling, a good one.

"Heh, sorry. Just... thinking." He offered a tight smile and released the hold on himself quickly.

"I'll try calling Lian, tell her good night before bedtime. Found anything new...?"