#price deciding to do a side quest

[cod-dump]

*in a bunker*

Price, hiding behind a wall: I can do this all night, Makarov!

Makarov, reloading his gun: You killed my best, you're not making it to the night!

Price: Oh... were those your best? *snorts* Oh, that's sad

Makarov: *pulls out a grenade*

Price: Oh-

(Meanwhile topside)

Graves: Where's John?

Nik: ... oh shit-

[greedyhoneyz]

Welcome to Wonderland

.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: eren yeager x pregnant!reader

.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: soon-to-be-parents embark on a joyous adventure, preparing for the arrival of their little one in a quest to find the perfect stroller.

.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none. fluff. domestic.

.ೃ࿔*:･authors note: inspired by baby mine from @tojigasm. im in a 'baby' mood and wanted to write something other than football. you can probably tell that I haven't watched the show but honestly, I've kind of based eren on his portrayals by other writers on this app and what I feel he would say and act like if he was a modern character. truthfully i just need to watch the show, but I'm honestly not good at keeping up with shows in general.

Onesies. Diapers. Bottles. Pacifiers. Cribs. Toys.

This was the world of babies. 

Eren had never felt so intimidated— standing by the store doors, a trolley glued to his front as he gawked at the avalanche of ‘everything baby’ in front of him. The signs above the aisles, all printed with words that seemed important, taunted him with ridiculing laughter and bizarre speeches filled with phoney concern. 

Hesitantly, Eren veered around and then glanced at (name). He swallowed deeply before speaking between shallow breaths. “Where do we start?”

(name) was quiet for a few moments as her eyes aimlessly scanned the store floor. She let out a breath and then paused, blinking, before glancing down at her phone. “Uh,”

She padded her thumbs across her screen and scrolled through her baby registry. 

“Strollers,” (name) managed to breathe out. She nodded to herself, assured by her choice and peered up at Eren, nodding once again. “Yeah, I think we should look at strollers first.”

“Strollers…” Eren muttered back slowly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “…that's good.”

The metallic clatter and squeak of the trolley and its battered wheels followed Eren and (name) as they pushed the cart towards the “strollers & travel systems” section. 

The trolley squeaked to a halt when (name) stopped. She blinked, rubbing her lips together and slowly stepped away from Eren. 

“This is nice.” She spoke softly. She raised her hands, her curious fingers wriggling in the air, and fiddled with the straps and handle of the matte black stroller. From the platform where it was perched, she pushed it back and forth, whirling the stroller from side to side. “It moves nicely too.”

“This one looks good too.” Pivoting on the heels of her feet, (name) carefully stroked the handle of another. It was grey, except for its black frame, and carried a sizable basket beneath it unlike the other.

Eren hummed in response to (name) and shifted away from the trolley. He inclined forward and fiddled with the hood of the stroller, pushing it back and dragging it forward. He smoothed his hands across its aluminium frame and picked at the price tag, strapped at the handle. “Not bad, you like it?” 

(name) shrugged. “It’s nice, but I think we should look around first before we decide on anything first.”

The trolley’s shaky rattle continued as (name) and Eren strolled through rows and rows of strollers in various colours, sizes and shapes. 

The traditional strollers, with large wheels and adjustable handles, had quickly gained (name’s) favour, whilst the lightweight umbrella strollers, which were perfect for prompt trips around the town, perked Eren’s eye. The jogging strollers failed to reel both Eren and (name) in, and though their suspension and manoeuvrability brought ease and comfort, the couple could envision themselves going for light jogs across their neighbourhood with their little one in tow. It wasn’t their style. 

“Is there anything here you like?” After a while of searching, Eren and (name) had broken off their stroll and huddled themselves into a corner and fueled themselves with the breakfast bars (name) had stashed inside her purse.

 "No," Eren shook his head, swallowing, his face twisted.

“Well,” (name) began. “If we can’t decide on anything now, I think we should move onto bassinets–”

“What?” A baffled expression came to (name’s) face as she watched Eren shoot off directly to a larger display of strollers.

With a smile on his lips and sparkling eyes, he bent down to retrieve a car seat from the queue of strollers. He waved, beckoning (name) over and beamed down at the contraption below. 

Gripping the metal ledge of the trolley, (name) towed it behind her as she walked. 

She stopped, standing a few feet away and with an inquisitive brow, glanced down at Eren.

“Look.” Hanging his figure over the car seat, Eren turned his back to (name). He lowered his arms, positioning his hands on either side of the seat, its front and its back. He gripped the handle with one hand and tucked his other into the safety lock. He pressed the lock, heaving it upwards as its legs, tucked beneath, extended outwards. Setting it down on the floor, Eren carefully eased the handle from above the black hood and towed it above the seat. A quiet snap could be heard as he adjusted the handle to his hip with a single push of a button. 

“Wow.” (name) gaped, her eyes wide and slowly circled the stroller.

“Cool, ain't it?” Eren smiled proudly. He pushed the stroller back and forth, wheeling it across the aisle in jagged lines. “‘Been looking at this online.”

“And it's good for travelling,” he boasted. “For when we fly. Oh, and it's light….it moves so nice….”

Resting her hand on the swell of her belly, (name) bent down and moved her hands across the seat, running her fingers against its smooth fabric. “But what happens when the baby gets too big and grows out of this?”

“Then…I…guess we buy two strollers?” Eren blurted out slowly.

“Babe… I don’t know.” Reclining back to height, (name) propped her hand on her hip and furrowed her brows together. She pulled her lips down into a frown and shook her head unhappily. 

Eren could feel his heart plunge into the pits of his stomach as (name) scowled. He was convinced that the stroller parked before him was it. And now, as he stared at his wife, he wasn’t too sure she felt the same.  

“Listen, baby, it's a great car seat and stroller,” he began. “C’mon, it's convenient and easy to use, we get this and it’ll make our lives so much easier when the baby comes.”

“Trust me, baby, I’ve done my research. I’ve watched videos and read reviews. This is the one.”

(name) thought a moment, gnawing at her bottom lip. After inspecting the stroller-car seat ensemble, she took Eren’s place at the wheel and rolled it across the aisle, and then back to him. 

She stopped in front of him, parking the stroller a few inches from his feet and sighed. She blinked and blinked and then blinked again, and sighed, tracing her hand across its hood. 

“Alright,” She said. “We’ll get it.”

Eren couldn’t help but cheer, thrusting his fists in the air before launching onto his wife. He wrapped his arms around (name), pulling her into his chest, her swollen belly pressed against his middle, and peppered kisses across her head, his nose bristling against her hair. “Yes!”

“Babe— Eren let go, you’re pulling on my hair.” Wriggling out from Eren’s grasp, (name) huffed, her eyebrows furrowed together and quickly patted away at her hair. 

After calling for assistance, Eren, then armed with newfound instructions, made his way down the aisles to the shelf containing another replica of the stroller, with (name) in tow. Below it were two rows of boxes.

Eren reached out, bending his knees, wrapped his arms around the box and lifted it into the air. With careful feet, he hauled the box toward their trolley and plopped it into the basket. 

“There.” He huffed. He wiped his hands and stared at the box, a twinkle glinted in his eyes, grinning from ear to ear as (name) looked on from the sidelines. 

She approached Eren, a hand to the trolley, the other to her stomach, and studied him. In awe at the way, his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled and his cheeks carried a gentle, rosy tint when he was excited. His joy was palpable, radiating out from him like a comforting blanket. 

As she gazed at him, (name) felt a deep sense of gratitude. Most women weren’t as lucky as she was, having a man so involved, so excited it’s damn near infuriating. But she cherished his joy, his nervousness, his wonder. He was new to this world, this world of babies, as was she, and whilst at times it was overwhelming, it was beautiful and intriguing to come to learn and to love the little human cocooned inside her belly. 

And as Eren looked up and caught her eye, (name) returned his smile with one of her own. In a silent exchange, they basked in each other’s warmth, arm in arm, sharing each other’s bliss.

[talenlee]

3e: Magical Rings

Rings. Simple circles of metal, worn on the fingers or toes or sometimes in the ears, these delicate pieces of human artistry are some of the earliest examples of creative expression we know can last beyond our lives, and therefore, serve as some of the most iconic examples of the way we use our signifiers to craft narratives of our lives. The promise ring, the engagement ring, the wedding ring, which are of course, all the same thing but companies want us to gild that lily forever, rings serve as a circle present in so many stories to symbolise a bonding, a binding, an eternity that we commit to in our lives and that we can only hold up as long as we continue to believe in that which the ring symbolises. Every ring can be called a ring of power, because it is the belief in stories we imbue in the ring that serves to give it that power.

And as any good item with significance, Dungeons & Dragons decided to start jamming a mechanical system onto them.

This is by no means a new thing for 3rd edition D&D; since earliest versions of the game, I’m sure there were people making ‘magical rings’ important on day dot. This is a game for hacks who want to remind you of the cool fantasy books we’ve read and back when the game was brand new, there really were only so many fantasy books that could be considered cool. Unbelievably, people considered Lord of The Rings one of them, yeah, I know, and apparently, they enjoyed those books and implemented their ideas into their own work. Wild, I know. Point is, it wouldn’t surprise me if D&D’s vision of magical rings predate D&D. What 3rd edition brought, in my experience reading the rulebooks, is a sense of acceleration and omnipresence.

The rules around rings in 3rd edition onwards is that you can wear two rings, and those rings will give you some magical benefit or advantage based on what they’re supposed to do. This is where stacking bonuses tend to rear their head for newer players. After all if you have a Ring of Protection that improves your armour by +1, and you have ten fingers, and those rings are cheap, why not buy a few of them, wear them on different fingers and get a lot better armour? The game saw you coming and instead, the rules limit these bonuses by type and also limits you to one ring per hand.

My time with 2e, towards the end, represent the loot cavalcade that was Baldur’s Gate 2, in which the world is lousy with magical gear which is designed to make it possible to approach a reasonably open world of quests. In this case, you wind up with enough magical rings you just start selling them in sacks, to the point where it can honestly not be worth picking them up in the early game because who’s gunna carry that malarkey? I do not want to pretend that 2ed lacked for this situation. Instead I want to describe the way that 3rd edition brought the idea of Unspecial Rings to everywhere. Almost every resource in the game that players got access to would bring new magical items, new feats, new character options to the board, and with that, you’d see some new rings.

When creating new magical items, the game provided a set of rules that described things that magical items could do, and the general family of effects they could have. Weapons, you might not be surprised, were good at making you better at attacking, and did special things when they hit things. Armour increased your defensive stats and made you better at surviving or enduring things. This could have some interesting side effects, some things that were judged on vibes — like, a trident that meant you could breathe underwater while you had it was probably okay, but it was definitely less okay than a suit of armour that gave you a swim speed and also meant you could breathe underwater. These were all put together by a complicatedly designed set of formulas that tried to price effects based on spells and then on the duration or effect of those spells.

What this meant is that knowing the best spells meant you knew the best ways to break these rules in weird outlier ways. An example that came up commonly was the ‘ring of true strike’ design a lot of players would conceive of, where you would make a ring that cast the spell true strike on use (ie, whenever you attacked). The formula for this implied that as a 1st level spell, cast as a 1st level wizard, this should cost 1x1x2000 gp. Since true strike granted you a +20 to hit on the next attack you meant, this item would obviously trivialising hitting things and that’s pretty nuts.

(Please ignore that a wand of true strike was a level 1 item for 750 gp that would give you this effect for 50 attacks, but only if you were a wizard or a character with the appropriate spell on your list.)

Anyway, the math kicked in at this point and looked for the most expensive way to price the effect. This ‘ring of true strike’ was granting a +20 to hit, and that was priced differently to the 1st level spell that gave it to you, meaning that instead of 2,000 gp, it cost you 20x60x2,000 gp, or 2.4 million gp, which is, uh, a lot more than 2,000. This is because to craft a tohit bonus like that, you needed to be 3 times the level of the bonus, meaning that you needed to find a level 60 wizard who had the time to waste on your nonsense.

Point is that things were examined in terms of their effect and their style. Armour did things that weapons didn’t do. Some weapons could improve your armour class but they needed a good flavour for it — like deflecting something, or blocking hits in melee. Staffs could store spells, wands could store spells but wear out, scrolls could store spells but only once, amulets could protect you in some way like improving a saving throw… and rings…

Rings could do anything.

Where most of the magic items have rules in them that make them hard to use in most situations, or gave them specific types of things they were best at replicating, rings could do anything. Permanent spell effects, on-use spell effects, permanent bonuses, a ring could be a real everythingamajig.

This was such a problem because it meant that even low level rings would wind up being useful, handy even to have around. A ring of sustenance turned off your need for food, for good, so you should probably have one of those for long distance travel. It’s real cheap, after all, and all it takes to swap it off is to swap a ring on a finger. A ring of feather falling could be jammed on a finger while you fell if you were falling far enough. And a ring of jumping could be handy for mobility, and none of these things were particularly expensive (by the standards of an adventurer) by the middle of the game.

The really cracked thing though?

These rings were so good and so worth keeping around in a big keyring for handy applications most of the time because they let non-wizards access all the handy utility stuff wizards had all the time from day 1. When a category of magical item is desireable because it lets you replicate something that the wizard can already do for a fraction of the cost – oh hey, there’s that wands conversation all over again! – you may have a problem class in your game.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Oathbreaker

summary: request for paladin Tav to break their oath by freeing the spawns and their choices with the Oathbreaker Knight. Request was too long to publish.

-------------------------------🩸-------------------------------

Astarion wasn’t sure how he was supposed to be feeling right now.

Elated? Afraid? Proud that he did the right thing or worried over setting the equivalent of a pack of wild dogs loose on the Underdark? So many emotions that Astarion was not used to feeling all bubbling up inside him.

What he was sure of, however, was that he was a little disappointed in Tav’s enthusiasm for the situation. They had worked so hard. Done good; which they usually lapped up like a cat with cream. Astarion thought they would at least be a little proud of him but they just seemed despondent. He decided that, in this effort to be free and turn a new leaf, he would be the bigger person and let it go. Perhaps after a good night’s sleep they would all feel better in the morning.

But, as with most nights in their camp, a good night’s sleep was not sure to come.

Just before they all laid their heads down a whirl of smoke, fire, and ash appeared in the camp. At first Astarion thought it was Rapahel, as he scrabbled from his bedroll to Tav, but no sufur. Instead of the devil in their camp there was a man, seemingly made of fire and black armor, with a dooming, looming presence before them.

“I have been waiting for you.” The black knight spoke as it turned to Tav. “I felt the moment of your liberation—the shedding of your bond.” Astarion looked surprised. Bond? What was he talking about. “Oathbreaker,” the word fell like a hammer in the room, “you swore to protect life itself. To serve the natural order. To protect those who would value life, and vanquish those who would destroy it. Tell me – why did you abandon your oath?”

Astarion suddenly realized what was going on. In releasing those souls, the vampires who would be lost, were lost, Tav had betrayed their oath. Released dark forces on the natural order. They had done all that…for him?

“It was the right thing to do.” Tav told him bluntly. “And…I did it for love.”

Astarion was shocked, but the fallen knight just laughed. “Love? Such a fickle reason. But…some say a noble one.” He couldn’t be sure, but Astarion thought that the knight may have glanced at him. “Take comfort in your undoing. I, like you, abandoned my cause. But much can still be achieved.”

The knight explained that their oath was broken, but that new power was taking root in its place. Astarion could barely hear him. All he could think about was what Tav had done for him. Continued to do for him. All the sacrifice. All the pain. All the ridiculous little errands and side quests they did just to make him happy. And what had he done for them?

“I wish to reclaim my oath.” Tav’s voice broke through his concentration. Turning to them as they said they wanted to be a paladin again. “I made a promise. And although what I did was right, I do not wish to shirk my responsibilities as well.”

“Very well.” The knight replied, sounding a little disappointed. “First you must pay the agreed price. Material sacrifice is required, to prove your words have substance.” He told them. “Do you wish to pay?”

1000 gold for salvation. Astarion thought that was trivial, but so like the church and religion.

“I…I don’t have….—“I do. I have it.” The vampire quickly stepped forward and handed the sum to the dark knight. Astarion glanced at Tav who seemed a little surprised. “What? You didn’t think I gave you all the coin when I was picking those pockets and coffers, did you?”

“The price is paid.” The knight then spoke. “Kneel, oathbreaker.” Tav kneeled and the Oathbreaker Knight repeated the words of their vow. An ancient, deep magic enveloping them for a moment before a new oath was sealed and Tav’s vow was resorted. “It is done.”

Tav stood and seemed to look over themselves. “Well, lets hope I don’t live to regret this.”

“Regret is for those who would act differently.” The knight told them. “I do not think you would change your choice, as nor would I.”

The knight then disappeared. Leaving them alone. “So…that’s why you have been so upset recently?”

“Yes.” Tav confessed. “I meant what I said. It was the right thing to do. But the more we go on this journey…the more I realize that what is right and what holds my oath are not always the same thing.”

“The world is full of greys and purples, my darling.” Astarion reached out to take Tav’s hand gently in his. “You taught me that. I wouldn’t be here…I wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren’t for you. I’m not really an accurate barometer on which way right is, but from where I am standing, there is no one more honorable than you. And if your gods can’t see that then more fools they.” Tav chuckled a little at him.

Astarion then took a deep breath. “Since…we’re up now.” He pondered aloud. Wondering how to say this properly. “There’s…something I’d like to show you, if that’s all right? Something out in the city.”

He took Tav’s hand in his again and led them into the city. To show them what his ‘oath’ had cost him. Where his old self had been. But, with this new lease, perhaps they could put those old selves away and focus on the new. A new path. A new future. A pledge to one another for a change.

[marte-14]

"Until we meet again, God Slayer"

The Shadow managed to separate the Heroes.

Sky and Time are alone against a horde of monsters, they are managing to keep up the pace for long, but monsters continue to arrive.

The situation got so dire that Time had to use the Fierce Deity mask. Much to his discomfort.

They win their battle, finally.

Sky stares at the Deity.

Time told them about this mask once. They all talked about their arsenal and how to use it, in case there was an emergency and the owner couldn’t operate a tool. The older Hero expressly said:" Don’t use it under any circumstances, unless the situation is so severe that it’s our last resort."

Now Sky understands why, the mask is powerful but it clearly comes to a price, judging by how it marked Time.

"Chosen Hero of Hylia." The Deity speaks, and Sky immediately knows that behind that voice there isn’t his brother:" As I expected you fight by my side, on my same ground." While he is expressionless, there is satisfaction in his voice:" I don’t merit such compliments by you." Sky responds:" You are very humble, as expected by the First of them all."

The Deity turns to Sky, now looking directly to him in the eyes:" I am not here for pleasantries. I am to warn you, Chosen."

"An important battle is on the horizon, against who I have no idea… But I know that you will have to use me."

Sky looks at him eyes wide open, in a bit of shock and worry. The Deity seems to feel his emotions:" While I have no powers to precisely tell what fate has decided. I can assure you on one thing… You will have no repercussions by wearing me."

Sky wasn’t really worried about that, he would even die to protect his brothers, having the marks of a Deity on his skin isn’t much.

But this seems to concern the Deity so he let him speak:" I know that the Hero of Time has warned you on using me. In his youth he abused of my powers once, I had to remind him that his mortal body has limits."

"On the other hand you, First Hero, do not need such reminders. In strength you and I are the same. On your own, you could have defeated the army we fought today, you have already did this before after all."

Sky feels that the Deity is a bit over exaggerating on his abilities, but it’s never a good idea to contradict a God or Deity.

"I will only help as enough is needed to ensure the success of your Quest and the safety of every Hero."

Sky is still shocked by his words but nods:" Thank you for the warning and the help. I will remember it."

Satisfied the Deity sheaths his swords.

"Until we meet again, God Slayer."

Time takes off the mask, falling to his knees exhausted.

----

Here I also add the time lapse of the drawing!

Hope you like it!

[xmads-omensx]

Once Upon A Dream

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,781

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, wearing, kissing, mentions of a slight fear of rollercoasters and mild anxiety

Summary: Noah takes Y/N to Disney for their anniversary... except they can't quite get rid of the rest of the guys

Thanks @tosoundlessdarkistare for the idea <3

I have also never been to Disney Land before so please be aware that there will be inaccuracies.

I had always wanted to go to Disney, ever since I was a kid, but I had never had the chance to go. It was always too expensive when I was younger, and by the time we could afford it, I had pretty much outgrown it.

Part of me still wanted to go, but with balancing work and spending time with Noah when he wasn’t on tour, it was hard to find the time to visit with enough time to do everything that I wanted to do.

This wasn’t something I had told Noah outright. It wasn’t exactly something I openly told people. The circle of people I surrounded myself with were, much like Noah, intimidating metalheads covered in tattoos who would have absolutely no business being in Disneyland. The mental image made me laugh.

One day, I had some time between meetings. I was working from home that day, so I didn’t really have anything to do in this particular thirty minute gap, so I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to have a glance at prices for a hypothetical trip to Disneyland. My very surface-level research confirmed the astronomical prices for tickets, and did not factor in accommodation, snacks, souvenirs or a second person to join me on the trip.

I promptly gave up on my side-quest and went back to my meeting, feeling ever so slightly defeated at my lack of accomplishment.

The rest of the day felt heavier. It wasn’t like I desperately wanted to do, but more so something the small child within me yearned for. Plenty of kids my age, friends included all got to experience the joys of Disney, but I never quite reached that.

Crawling into bed after dinner felt nice. Especially with Noah wrapped around me.

“How was your day?” He asked softly.

“Not bad. Work was a bit boring, as usual.” I laughed into his chest, making him laugh as well.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around much today. We were making real progress in the studio.” He said softly, a twinge of regret in his voice.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re making progress, honey.” I replied, snuggling further into his chest.

“Me too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I drifted off to sleep easily. I always did with Noah there.

The next day I woke up to an empty bed. I didn’t like waking up alone. I looked around the room but couldn’t see Noah anywhere. The bathroom was empty and it was only 9:45am, so he shouldn’t be at the studio just yet.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and left our shared bedroom. My office was down the hall and the light was on. Weird. I was sure I had turned it off when you finished work yesterday.

Walking closer to the slightly ajar door, I started to hear voices coming from inside. Noah? Matt? Jolly? Why were they in my office?

I lightly pushed the door open and they hurriedly stopped their conversation. Noah had a look that was equally suspicious as it was guilty.

“What are you guys doing in here?” I asked sleepily, rubbing my eye.

“Nothing really, just chilling.” Noah said, trying to act calm but ultimately failing.

“In my office?” I asked sceptically.

The guys looked between eachother as I just stared at them. From an outside perspective, it must have looked like a mildly disappointed mother scolding her three sons.

“You better take this one man, it was your idea.” Matt said, clapping Noah on his back, making Jolly laugh.

Noah sighed before speaking. “So, you know how our anniversary is coming up soon?”

“Yeah.” I said, a small smile appearing on my face, as it did every time someone mentioned our anniversary

“I thought maybe we could go on a little trip, instead of just going on a nice date or something.” He said quietly, with a small smile on his face.

“A trip where?” I asked, excited.

“That’s a surprise.” Noah replied.

“Disney Land!” Matt and Jolly exclaimed at the same time Noah was speaking.

“Are you both fucking kidding me!” Noah shouted, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

Matt and Jolly laughed at his outburst, hurriedly escaping the room to avoid Noah’s anger as well as the pillow he had picked up to throw at them.

I just watched, laughing at them.

“I’m sorry baby, it was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled, looking down at the ground in defeat.

“Hey.” He looked up at me when I began to speak. “It’s okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

He smiled softly and pulled me into his lap, placing a kiss on my cheek. “Good morning beautiful.” He said softly.

“Morning handsome.” I giggled.

We stayed like that for another few moments before deciding to go and get ready for the day.

The rest of the week rolled around quickly as Noah and I’s anniversary approached. We had packed for three days at Disney Land and were eagerly awaiting our trip to roll around.

After what felt like eternity, the time had arrived for us to begin our journey to Disney Land. Luckily, we didn’t live too far away, so we could drive there and back relatively easily, but we still booked a hotel to make out lives easier.

Moving our bags by the front door, Noah began loading up his car. Since it was our anniversary, he wasn’t letting me help him with anything, which frustrated me, but seeing as he was significantly taller than me and could lift me up like it was nothing, there wasn’t much point trying to help him.

“Noah come on. Let me help.” I had argued.

“Nope.” He simply replied.

“Noah ju-“ I started before he interrupted me.

“I said nope.” He looked at me with a jokingly stern expression.

I had sighed, giving up.

Once the car had been packed, Noah clapped his hands together, proud of himself, and we began to make our way to his car.

Before we could even open the door, a small commotion from inside the house made us pause, before what can only be described as a gaggle of arguing men poured out the front door carrying bags with them.

Nick, Folio, Jolly, Matt, Bryan and Steven now all stood on our driveway looking mildly sheepish.

“Where are you guys going?” Noah asked with a suspicious tone, nervously eyeing the bags they each carried along with them.

“So, we may or may not have booked tickets to go with you guys to Disney Land.” Folio said sheepishly.

“Out anniversary trip to Disney Land?” Noah asked, still eyeing them all suspiciously.

The rest of the guys had a guilty look on their faces. “We’ll stay out of your way, we just liked the idea.” Nick added, trying to lessen their guilt.

“You fucking better.” Noah huffed before getting into the drivers seat of his car.

“See you guys later I guess.” I laughed before climbing in the passenger seat.

Noah sighed before starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. He remained quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive, which was unlike him. He usually asked for a specific playlist, or talked about our plans for the day.

“Are you okay babe?” I asked, placing my hand on his knee and squeezing it affectionately.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighed. “I just wanted to take you somewhere special for a break away from the others. You know? Just us.”

“And whilst that is a very nice idea babe, we both know that neither of us will ever escape those guys.” I laughed.

“Yeah you’re right.” Noah sighed, a weak smile appearing on his face.

“I have a nasty habit of doing that.” I smirked at him.

“shut up. Put some music on babe, you’re choice.” Noah laughed.

“Okay.” I giggled, queuing up my musical theatre playlist, which I knew Noah secretly liked, despite stating that he hated it several times.

The entire drive there I performed every single song, which was probably why Noah constantly protested the playlist every time. I more or less made a mockery of his job.

Once we arrived at the hotel, we unloaded Noah’s car and brought our things up to the hotel room, which wasn’t fancy in the slightest, but did the job for four nights. The guys had booked rooms in the same hotel, but luckily not on the same floor as Noah and I, so we still got some peace and quiet away from them.

Dinner time rolled around and Noah took me out for a very nice, quiet, romantic meal for our anniversary, as had become tradition between the two of us over the last few years.

The morning sunshine lit up our hotel room and aroused me from my sleep, Noah still lay beside me snoring contently away. As much as I hated to wake him, I knew that we probably had to leave soon to avoid the rush at the entrance. I gently brushed the stray hairs off of his face, before placing gentle kisses all over his cheeks, making him stir and his eyes flutter open.

A soft smile appeared on his face. “Hey beautiful.” He groaned.

“Hi baby.” I replied, kissing his forehead.

He wrapped his long, strong arms around my waist, trying to pull me back into bed, but I resisted. “Noah, baby, as much as I would love to hide in bed all day with you, we need to beat the rush and the rest of the guys.”

Noah groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

“This was your idea honey.” I laughed, shaking his shoulder gently, making him roll over and face me again.

“I know.” He sighed before climbing out of bed and dragging me into the bathroom behind him.

After we were showered, dressed and I had done my hair and makeup, it was time to go. We planned on grabbing some breakfast at the park as well as lunch, and just seeing how we felt for dinner.

The drive over there was short and we got parked relatively easily, despite our parking being far to the back of the car park.

We collected our wristbands and entered the park. Neither Noah or myself especially liked rollercoasters, but we were both determined to try at least one before our trip was over.

“Hey! Y/N! Noah!” A voice called from behind us.

Turning around, we saw Jolly towering over the rest of the crowd and waving at us. Noah sighed before waving back at him.

“I guess we aren’t getting our trip for just us two after all.” He groaned.

“Don’t worry about it. We still have our hotel room to ourselves and we can go out and have dinner just us two. It’s all going to be fine, Noah.” I comforted him, squeezing his hand affectionately.

The rest of the guys all crowded around us, shouting out different things that they wanted to do and explore. Most of the guys wanted to try the Guardians of the Galaxy ride, whilst Noah and I were more hesitant. “Maybe we should just say fuck it and try it out.” I murmured to him.

“Babe, if I’m being honest, that sounds like hell to me.” He laughed in reply.

“I think I’ll try it.” I said confidently. “How bad can it be?”

Noah laughed at that. “Sure.”

“No really. I’m going to do it.” I replied confidently. I was determined to prove to him that I could do it, no matter what.

“Fine. If you do it, I’ll buy you as many churros as you want.” He replied.

“Okay. And what do you get?” I asked

“Oh babe, there is no way in hell I’m doing that.” He laughed, pulling me into his side.

I really loved churros, but was the price I would have to pay worth it? Yes.

We decided as a group to head there first and beat the crowds. Queuing took no time at all and we sat down in our seats. Steven and Noah stayed back holding our bags, whilst the rest of us went on together.

I was sandwiched in between Matt and Jolly, gripping both their hands tightly. My heart raced inside my chest as the attendant came over and lowered the security bar, securing us in place.

“You good?” Matt asked.

I just nodded my head.

He laughed in reply. “It’ll be over before you’ve even realised it’s started.”

I nodded again. Having Matt and Jolly beside me helped calm my nerves ever so slightly.

Suddenly, the ride jolted forward and we were off. Music flooded into my ears, but I couldn’t make out what songs they were playing. All I knew was that it was cheesy 80s hits that I presumed were in the movie. The cart flew along the tracks quickly, taking the air out of my lungs. But it wasn’t fear that I was feeling. It was joy. Pure joy.

I laughed and screamed alongside the rest of the people on the ride. Who knew something like this could be so much fun?

Like Matt had said, it was over before I knew it and the ride pulled to a stop.

My legs felt like spaghetti as I stood up after dismounting the ride. I laughed and clung onto Matt as we walked back to Noah and Steven who were sat on a bench nearby eating something that looked like… a turkey leg?

“Have fun guys?” Steven called out to us. We erupted in various replies of “yes”, “holy shit” and “fuck yeah” as we rejoined them.

“Have fun babe?” Noah asked as he put an arm around my shoulder.

“Yeah, I did actually.” I replied with a wide grin. “It was way more fun than I expected.”

“That’s great babe.” He laughed.

“What the fuck are you eating?” I asked.

“Oh this?” He held up what I thought might be a turkey leg, and ripped a chunk off of it with his teeth, before chewing aggressively. “It’s turkey.” He said with his mouth still full.

I turned away from him with a grimace, making the other guys laugh.

The rest of our day was filled with countless more rides, as Noah now couldn’t keep me off of them, and stupid group photos, obviously pulling weird faces and poses. Keeping up his end of the bargain, like a true gentleman, Noah bought me as many churros as I wanted. In fact, he kept it up for the rest of our stay at Disney Land, which filled me with immense joy.

On our last day, Noah said he had a surprise for me. The guys had shared a knowing look before leaving us to it and heading back to the hotel for the night.

Noah took my hand and guided me to a quiet spot near a restaurant that was on a slight hill and gave us a brilliant view of the Sleeping Beauty castle, whilst being completely out of sight from the crowd.

“What’s going on Noah?” I asked with a laugh.

“Nothing, just wanna show you something.” He replied with a smile.

I gave him a suspicious look before returning my gaze back to the castle.

“I guess I just wanted to say that I love you, and I’m glad we did this trip.” He said after a long pause.

“I love you too.” I said, squeezing his hand. “I’m glad we did this too, even though it’s a bit out of your comfort zone.”

“You got that right.” He laughed.

“Well I do tend to-“ I started.

“Don’t you dare say you’re always right.” He laughed, shoving me playfully.

“Well, I am.” I repied.

“Shush.” He pulled me into his side.

“Why did you even suggest Disney Land?” I asked, looking up at him.

“You never got to go as a kid, and it’s pretty much right on our doorstep.” He replied.

“You remembered that?” I asked, surprised.

“Well, duh. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t.” he laughed, kissing the top of my head.

We stood there in silence as the fireworks started, I leaned back into Noah’s chest as he began to gently sway us back and forth to the music that was playing.

“I love you.” He muttered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back

“Not possible.” Noah replied softly.

He began humming along to the song, his chest vibrating behind my back as the fireworks illuminated the night sky.

So this is what having a soulmate feels like? Like living in a dream that never ends.

[apostatively]

About BioWare's Beef with "Fetch Quests" vs. Embrace of "Faction Quests"

[[Some minor spoilers in this post re: a few side quests in DA2 and DAI, and various routine faction quest events and requirements to get the "best" possible ending you're allowed to have in DATV.]]

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I think one of the things BioWare is missing about the transition to "no fetch quests ;DDD don't worry!" in Veilguard is that the vast majority of "faction quests" have mechanics that are far more mind-numbing to me than the majority of totally optional side quests in DAI/prev. games.

I am so tired of almost every Veil Jumpers quest being "look for missing people" > "oh no they're all dead" > "figure out how they died" > "return and tell the quest giver they're all dead".

It's so unimaginative. I'm so goddamn exhausted.

"Bob and Jill haven't come back from scouting these ruins! They should have been back by now-" They're dead. They are ALWAYS DEAD. I can save us all a lot of time and repetition by just telling you now. Something has killed them because the Magic-Is-Science Woods are full of ancient evils that are constantly killing everyone who goes in there, and yet we keep doing it, in large and eager groups. And expecting me, personally, to care about the lives of this faction who clearly don't have a bare-minimum thought for their own continued existence.

(Also: is it just me, or did the quest where everyone dies except for their pet nug, who you later learn VERBALLY SCREAMS if parted from its dead owner's belongings, feel weirdly offensive, like we weren't supposed to care about the people because rescuing the nug was the secret/real quest objective? Were we supposed to feel gratified that everyone died, but "at least" an animal was saved? They immediately snatch away that potential feeling of vindication too, in the resulting missive! Not a drop of dopamine to be had in that quest outcome, and there's no skipping it unless you want your companions to pay a hugely disproportionate price later.)

Even the shorter quests feel completely unnecessary, like when you first recruit Emmrich, an otherwise interesting and well-acted character who is doomed, like so many of the companions, to have his personal quest mechanics revolve around walking back and forth to fixed points within an area. I like the general idea of cute little wisps, but every time I have to double back to the entrance of an area, that I have already traveled through, just to grab a wisp and run all the way back, KILLS ME. I HATE it. There is no POINT to running through the area twice. "I have to get through this part because it's required to recruit this character" is in no way a fulfilling emotional hook.

In DA2, you were perfectly free not to interact with the random local magistrate who wants you to quietly recover his son. But the very pitch of the quest that he gives you is shady from the beginning, and if you decide to pursue it, you get the emotional payoff (depending on your choices) of removing a dangerous serial killer who is preying on marginalized children. This outcome makes the player feel good - like their time has been well-spent, that they are playing as a heroic figure in a fantasy adventure game. (And if they choose routes that are harmful, they potentially also have fun playing an "evil" character, as some folks find really amusing! There is still gratification involved, and it feels as though your actions in the game had a purpose.)

In DAI, you don't have to spend forever in the Hinterlands. Despite the prevalence of memes about this area of the game, you truly are not forced to stay there, you just have to do barely enough quests to accumulate a certain number of points denoting your influence in the area, so that you now have enough "power"/influence/reputation to proceed to the next step of the game where you speak with high-ranking individuals (valid story-relevant reasons). But here's the thing: often even the most simple of "fetch quests" in the Hinterlands has some degree of emotional payoff for the player. Like a lot of folks, I have a select few NPCs I want to interact with every single playthrough, because they have enough emotional depth to make an impression on me: I always get the Fantasy Asthma Medication from the estranged son of the woman with breathing trouble, and always feel sympathy for this family because of the son's reaction that he genuinely didn't know his mother was struggling while he's been away. I always place flowers on the grave of a woman at the behest of her widower, and track down the templars who murdered a woman's husband to retrieve his stolen wedding band, because that's just the kind of stuff that resonates with me. It feels like your character is doing good: you're starting to construct a persona for them of a local hero, if you so choose. There are emotional hooks to lots of side quests - but as above, for those who find them boring, you don't have to spend more than a bare minimum of time in this area. It's not a requirement, the way DATV's "faction quests" effectively are.

Long story long, you don't have to complete every single Hinterlands quest for your companions not to die at the end of the game. (In DATV, even as a completionist who is normally excited to find every easter egg a game has to offer, I found myself deeply resenting being basically forced to complete all the quests so that my companions don't die horribly...and then feeling cheated that you still can't save absolutely everyone, that a true "happy ever after" is impossible in DATV, even if you comply with the devs and finish their scores of side quests, knowing they have a gun to your favorite companions' heads.

It felt as though BioWare expected new players to the series to be able to resonate with this game immediately while also expecting the inclusion of B-list DA characters from their "neutral" world state in books and comics not everyone has read to be emotionally resonant enough for players to want to complete boring side quests just to please these NPCs (who you are allowed to interact very little with in the game). Unfortunately, the "new" players or returning ones who don't read or didn't care for the books and comics have zero reason to do this, and are far more likely to be punished by the game for not having an appropriate amount of "commitment" that simply is not inspired by the game itself.

TL;DR - replacing an abundance of optional "fetch quests", many of which are well-written with strong emotional hooks, but ultimately don't force players to complete them, with "faction quests" that lack emotional resonance and interesting mechanics but ARE required to be 100% completed to get a "good ending" to the game, is a huge step backwards for playability. It's troubling that the game writers/devs don't seem to understand that, or BioWare wouldn't be crowing about the "improvement" in removing "fetch quests" when they've simply rebranded them and made them less interesting and unskippable.

[pumpkinpot]

BG3 X farmers market booths

farmers market season is upon us and I am an avid faire/con/market goer. I loved the entire side quest in BG3 involving the traveling circus, and it got me thinking.... What kind of booth or show would each of the bg3 companions have?

There is only a few ways I could see the troupe actually agreeing to participate one is they are really low on funds and the other is an investigation. either works for these ideas.

Roland: He mentions that he has a big interest in making magical education more accessible to the masses so I feel that that would be a bit part of his booth. you know those booths at farmers markets that all sell secondhand books on rolling carts? I feel like that's the vibe. He has posters for magical workshops being hosted at Razmith and cozy chairs for people to sit around under and umbrella and read for a while.

Karalach/ Dammon: they decided to put their skills together and forge artisanal cloak pins and other fineries. its really helpful having someone who can heat the metals so quickly so dammon can craft quicker. Its not long that they have to eventually raise their prices because everyone at the faire wants one of their hair pins or spoon rings.

Astarion/ Scratch: He was offered a place in the kissing booth that he immediately turned down. Of course, his alternative idea was a blood drive. cheeky bastard. in the end he settled for animal handler. Believe it or not, once he no longer had to rely on animals as his food source he found he was quite good with them. He got the idea from constantly having to repair scratches ball, so he decided, with some help from Halsin, to make toys that cannot be destroyed no matter how tuff your pet. He also sells bandanas with tracking spells woven into them and treats that let your dog speak for an hour or two. Him and scratch make an adorable team, people commenting consistently on their matching hair and bandanas. He sells the most of anyone at the fair, followed closely by Halsin.

Halsin: Mans forgot that yall are here to make money. He decided make a booth for pollination education. He has a lepidopterarium for people who want to hold butterflies while he tells them the importance of local wildflowers. Everyone that visits the booth gets a seed bomb. when he was told he actually needed to sell something he settled on honey he harvested. He has to ask you what people mean when they say he's of "beekeeping age," and what "forest daddy" means.

Gale: Idk where this came from really, but I feel like he has a candle booth. but enchanted candles. hear me out. "this candle smells like the first warm day of the year, when the sun touches your skin for the first time in months," o, "this candles you can poor on your skin to heal a pulled muscle or burn," or "this candle influences your dreams and takes you where you want to go."

Blurg/Omeluum: Naturally, they have a mushroom booth. But not just mushrooms. Burg took one culinary class and decided he needed to open a food truck, but everything was mushrooms. fried mushroom poppers, mushroom tacos, balsamic mushroom skewers.. Omeluum is just happy to be able to be in public now with its partner.

My Tav (October): The plan to have a spider booth was shot down pretty quickly, so there needed to be a compromise. October decided to have a crochet booth with tons of different projects like blankets, stuffed animals, cowls etc. but they were all made by spiders. Pino was the only one present for the market and a few people wanted to hold her, though most moved along upon hearing the labour practices of Octs products.

Authors Note: I would love to write a second part to this, I just don't have the spoons at this moment. If you have anything else you'd like to see let me know!

Link to Master list (I do not have a gaming masterlist yet. Hopefully more to come!)

[raviostinkzz]

-Bargaining’s Limit

Characters: Ler!Link, Lee!Ravio [Fandom: The Legend Of Zelda (ALBW)] Warnings: just a tickle fic!! :] subtle/hints of spoilers for ALBW though?

Summary: Link’s had enough of his painfully inconvenient item deal with Ravio and decides to work an apology and an improvement out of him, in his own silly way.

Notes: i think i kinda lost the attention of my followers from being inactive for so long and i know ALBW is less popular than other zelda games so. i would love some interaction if you enjoy this😭❤️ kept it as in character as i could! :)

-REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED-

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Link entered the sho- his house with a clear goal in mind. Set that dumb deal straight and get Ravio back for his greedy tricks!

The hooded shopkeeper welcomed him with his usual quirkiness as he dusted the counters, then queried him about what he could provide today.

“Ravio, you can provide me with way cheaper rentals, that’s what! My wallet is crying rupees!”

“Oh but my prices are as low as low goes! Surely with your valiant quest and therefore need for my items you can spare a few extra hundred rupees for your pal, buddy!” He replied proudly.

Link sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to laugh, “You really can’t see how stupid it is?” He raised an eyebrow. That’s it.

Link held his lips from curling into a smile and approached his friend as he imagined the outcome of what he was about to do.

“I only see fairness Mr. Hero! Out of the goodness of your heart and the-hehAH-” The merchant was suddenly interrupted by his own voice.

“Ticklish?” Link smirked and retracted his hand from Ravio’s hip.

Ravio’s heart skipped, a new feeling of giddiness and fluster lighting throughout him.

He scrambled to answer, “What-PPFSH n-no…?” chuckle “Nope.” He crossed his arms and held his sides.

“I think you are!!” The grinning hero approached him as he shuffled back.

Butterflies flutt- no, swarmed in his stomach. The not so subtle excitement for where this was going teased at his nerves. Ravio felt the connection of playfulness sparking between them, a feeling he was very ready to welcome after so long without.

“N-Now this has nothing to do my deals, buddy!” He protested, his voice wavering as he tried to suppress the anticipatory giggles creeping up his throat.

He grasped the merchant’s hips once again, “Well I have to get you back somehow!” he retorted winking, unable to keep that smirk off his face as he began to squeeze and knead into the spot, recalling the way he reacted when he did it the first time.

“WAIT-waihahait hero we can tALk aboUT THIHIS” Ravio stumbled over his words and backed into a counter, spilling out giggles and trying his best not to fold like a lawn chair from the fingers attacking his ticklish hips.

His false voice had already been slipping from the moment Link had first taken him by surprise, but that bit of control he had left was now completely gone, and Ravio was kicking himself. Just some tickles to fully tear down the grouchy guise of his so well-hidden voice? Really?

Link payed no mind however and slipped under his leather band, beginning to squeeze his sides, the other instinctively scrambling to escape the ticklish sensation and tripping over himself, quite literally falling into laughter as Link followed him down to the floor.

The blonde boy easily removed the midriff accessory and went straight back for his sides, squeezing up and down and spidering in circles. Ravio twisted and turned, squealing out a waterfall of giggles and frantically pushing Link’s hands away as his legs tried their best to kick from under him.

“You laugh softer when I go down here…” two squeezes to his lower sides.

“And you laugh harder when I go up here…” three squeezes travelling up them. Ravio belly laughed as the cogs in his mind turned with Link’s. What was he-? oh no.

“So…” He locked onto his target.

“WaHahahit naHAhah—HAH!” he barked out suddenly, before trailing off into awkward and nervous giggles, giving Link as pleading of a stare as he could give through the mask of his hood.

“Bad spot?” Link chuckled, starting up again the moment after he spoke, skittering up and down Ravio’s ribs - leaving his loud and frantic laughter to answer that question for him.

Ravio’s hood jumped about along with him and began to lift, the slightly quietened sound of his laugh becoming clearer, and realisation hitting him in the face as light creeped in.

He scrambled to clutch onto his hood and keep it down, which unfortunately for him, was an obvious mistake and too perfect an opportunity for Link to miss. The blonde quickly shoved his hands under Ravio’s arms and scribbled into his hollows, a grin spread across his face.

The squeal he let out was unbelievable, getting a snort out of Link himself as he curled in and clamped his arms down, refusing to let go of his hood.

Which didn’t help, trapping Link’s wriggling fingers and sending all the more ticklish sparks buzzing along his nerves. He spluttered and amusingly squealed out as many half-hearted protests as he could.

“IHihi- th-this wihihill rahAHAISE YOHOur priHIces si-hihIHAH-SIGNIFICANTLY!-AHAH”

“Threatening me in this situation? Really?” The boy smirked, slowing his tickles a little.

“Well whahat are yohou gonna do? You cahahan’t tickle me to deheath Hero.” Ah. Rookie mistake.

“Oh you wanna test that theory?” He set his hands back on the giggler’s ribs, twitching them a little.

Ravio tensed and felt himself gaining an even wobblier (and wider) smile on his face, squirming, “Wahait-wAItwaitWAIT yohou wouldn’t-” He spluttered, convincing his arms to move down and hold Link’s.

More and more giggles seemed to bubble out of him in anticipation and nervousness. And the light squeezing to his ribs Link was kind enough to provide him with weren’t messing with him any less either.

Anyway, turns out he would go there. He definitely would.

“MR. H-HEHEHEHAHAHAHAA!! LIHIHINK!” The merchant was screeching with laughter, grabbing desperately at his attacker’s hands as they kneaded into each sensitive bone.

Link couldn’t help but smile as he vibrated and wiggled his fingers into the ticklish crevices of his rib cage, digging out every cackle and wheeze he could find. He absolutely deserved this.

“NOHOHAAHAHAT THEHERE!! PLEHE- I’M GONNA DIHIE!!!” Ravio threw himself about like a fish out of water. Wasn’t this guy was supposed to be a rabbit?

Link strategically placed his fingers on every bone he could, paused for a second, and tased as quickly and evilly as he could as his friend arched and gasped and bursted into another round of harsh cackles, falling into a hyper-giggle fit in between every shock.

His laugh was so funny and contagious, it reminded Link of his own. His smile was wide and his heart was so warm with affection he almost forgot the reason he started all of this.

He had missed these kinds of moments. The times where he’d get into trouble with his friends, where they’d laugh together for ages and his biggest worry was waking up late for work, when his responsibility for the kingdom and the princess was still in the past.

This was the happiest he’d felt in a while, for once he felt like there was nothing wrong with the world, like it was just him and Ravio. Just him and this strange, funny, stupidly ticklish ‘merchant’.

Link dazed in the moment before snapping back to reality, meeting before him a wheezing, snorting, curled up Ravio, realising he’d been practically murdering the guy this entire time.

He slowly halted his attack and patted his friend on the shoulder, moving to sit off his legs.

All his thrashing had yet again revealed a glimpse of the underneath of his hood, only a little. Link wouldn’t look any further but just enough to see his smile. To which he felt his own butterflies fluttering in his stomach, it was so playful and happy, so genuine.

Residual giggles filled the air, “O-Oho my gohoddess I thought you wehere gonna kill me!”

Link scoffed, “Don’t be dramatic! You’re not earning any sympathy from me, the amount of times I’ve fallen in battle and you’ve snatched your items back immediately! You greedy guy!!” He scurried his fingers over Ravio’s stomach, earning a squawk and another round of laughter.

“HEhey thahat was the deheal!! And I thihink we knohow who’s fault it is anyway judging by ‘the amount of times I’ve fallen in battle’ buddyYHA- HAHAHAH” He flailed as another attack was launched again by an ‘irritated’ hero.

“OKaY OKAHAY stahahap!” Ravio snorted and shoved Link as he sat up further.

“I didn’t overstep did I?” Link gave him a nudge.

“No, not at all. It was…fun.” Ravio’s tone was warm and lighthearted, one that spread through the room.

“You’ve learnt your lesson?” Link raised an eyebrow, smiling.

“Yes yes I have.” he giggled, head in his hands.

“…I don’t have to lower the prices though right-OKAYOKAYIMSORRY”

No matter what he pulled Link couldn’t seem to shake his affection for the merchant, being somewhat drawn to him and feeling their bond grow despite only short moments of interaction.

And this seemed to be mutual.

——————

AGHCK this wasnt meant to be very long but i love them so much MY BOYS

[florianniss]

What you're missing

RatedE, Winter at Kaer Morhen, Wolf Geralt, Hurt/comfort

“You’ll never make it,” the Madame at the brothel had said, most unhelpful in giving directions. Halfway to sloshed, a shrewd, mocking smile on her knowing face, she’d offered him half price if he stayed.

He hadn’t, and he’s halfway wishing now that he had.

Jaskier is no dragon, but his lungs burn and he breathes fire. His blood is not poisonous, but whatever’s coursing through his veins feels that way. He’s still fairly young, holding steady at forty for a while now, but his bones and joints and muscles seem twice that.

It doesn’t help that the gods have decided to piss on him. He took a friend’s advice and traded in his coat for a warmer, waterproof one, but even that isn’t properly shedding the rainwater off his clothes. In fact, the new sturdy boots, although clunky and not at all fashionable, are the only things that haven’t become soaked.

As the path steepens and the altitude taxes him further, the wind picks up and it begins to change over to snow. For the first time since he set out on this little quest, something akin to fear squeezes his chest.

Jaskier stops to rest.

The upturned tree provides shelter from the wind, but the ground is too wet to make any sort of fire. Even the dry kindling in his heavy pack won’t be enough to stave off the sleet mix that pummels the earth and clings to the trees with icy tendrils. He’ll have to keep going until it stops.

It doesn’t. So neither does he.

The water flask is nearly empty, but he needs it to calm the flames that flick up the back of his throat. Worried about running out, he finds himself wanting for more snow. At least it would give some relief to the heat on his cheeks and brow.

Jaskier guesses he is feverish, but brushes it off as the result of strenuous movement. Besides. Even if it is sickness, it’s doing a hell of a job keeping his body warm when otherwise he would turn hypothermic.

This is yet another unhappy thought as he returns to the path and finds it snow-covered and faint. The Madame instructed him to follow the cattle trail to the tree line, and that’s what he intends to do. It’s just farther than he expected, and the daylight has been reduced to gray clouds and a heavy mist trapped between the trees. 

He picks up the pace.

Jaskier doesn’t know how long he trudges through the quickly accumulating snow, but he does know the feeling has left his fingers and toes. And he knows that each breath he takes burns icily inside his chest. And he knows that if the weather doesn’t ease he’ll be forced to set up his tent.

But Jaskier is no quitter. He won’t be deterred by a little fever and a little storm. He hefts the pack higher across his shoulders and ducks his head into the wind.

The cough begins next, just a tickle behind his tongue. He holds it back, fights against making too many sounds. Believe it or not, he’s learned a thing or two about traipsing through unknown woods. It’s best to not draw attention to oneself, especially when alone.

As his nose begins to run and his eyes water and sting, Jaskier makes a list of reasons in his head for making camp.

One: he has no idea where he is, and whether he’s headed in the right direction. For all he knows he’s going nowhere, in circles. Which is a waste of resources.

Two: his energy is waning, body failing, attention drifting. There’s a very real chance that his physical state could have him walking right off the side of a cliff.

Three: his mind. So much is happening inside his head right now. With news of the death of a certain Mage and the knowledge of what really happened in Cintra, Jaskier has put away his pride and hurt. Something much more important awaits him.

Jaskier has to find Geralt.

He stumbles. A lot. The pack weighs heavier and heavier. He sucks in a deep breath, lungs a scorching blaze of pain. He lifts the next foot and plants it carefully. The ground welcomes him with open arms as he falls.

It all goes to shit after that.

He’s too stubborn to concede, but he doesn’t really want to tempt the Fates. He appeases them instead with, “Fine. I’ll break for food. Happy?”

The response is a slap to the face by a particularly vicious gust of wind.

Jaskier removes the pack, setting it against the raised root system of a large fir tree, then digs out his oilskin and a wedge of bread. Wrapped in the tarp like a quilt, he gnaws on a frozen corner of his meal. It goes down like shards of glass on his parched tongue.

He chases it with a handful of snow and feels much better, until he looks up and realizes that his footprints have filled in. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, unsure now of which way he came from.

Jaskier throws his head back and looks to the heavens, but the sun is completely blocked out by the storm and falling snowflakes cloud his vision.

Panic begins to set in, but not before he gets control of his remaining senses. The wind had taken him head-on for most of the trip. If he walks into it, he’ll at least keep climbing. All he has to do is stay somewhat on the trail.

Three bites in his belly, pack tied and tarp covering his head, Jaskier pushes to his feet and moves on.

It’s difficult to judge how long or far he makes it this time, a minute, an hour, a day. His focus strays as the wind howls and he hears something unnatural behind it.

Jaskier pauses to listen. It’s definitely not just the gale. He can’t tell what direction from which it comes, but the sound reaches his ears enough times to know he’s no longer alone.

“Wolves.”

He tries to think about the hunting habits of roving packs. They call to each other to judge distance and to locate each other, he thinks he remembers. Or is that coyotes? Either way, he needs to be alert to be able to defend himself if they choose to attack.

The sounds grow closer, and Jaskier takes a quick inventory of his assets. He is much better with the short sword now, after a run-in with an oddly helpful group of bandits. They offered to teach him in exchange for a few chosen songs.

And not even the good ones.

He’s not stupid, no matter what any former traveling companions thinks. He knows he’s compromised by some illness, and both coyotes and wolves tend to take down the sick ones. 

Jaskier needs a plan.

Fortunately, a dark shape looms ahead, the kind made of rock and not flesh and bone. It’s an outcropping of rock on the leeward side of the storm.

He struggles more quickly through the snow and sets his pack down with stifled relief. There is work to be done before he can settle beside it, taking a defensive position against the rock face.

With sword in his lap and knife in his boot, oilskin covering both he and his things, Jaskier finally sinks into the snow, careful to pull the tarp beneath him. 

He scoops up more snow for his dry throat and listens for more howls. The only way they might sneak up on him would be from above, and he’s pretty sure he paid attention in class when they talked about sheer cliffs and canine claws.

Jaskier waits, taking shallow breaths and trying his best to keep the cough at bay. Twice he has to stifle them by hacking into his sleeve. It wouldn’t go unheard by sensitive ears, but it would give him more time. Even the most talented of hunters would be affected by the weather.

Apparently not.

The sharp bark comes out of nowhere, not ten yards to his front. Jaskier startles and tips over his pack, and the tin bowl and cup spill over the side and clatter against the rock

“Fuck,” Jaskier hisses, not thinking at all about what a certain Witcher would do. He’s too busy squinting through the blustering snow, searching for eyes.

Jaskier doesn’t see them until it’s too late. Orange, blue, and green orbs surround him on all sides. He draws his sword and crouches with his back against the rock for support. His arm trembles under the steel’s weight.

“All right,” he says, hoping he sounds soothing. “You beasties don’t want to eat me.” He counts the eyes; four pairs, unblinking. “I’ve come down with a nasty contagious virus that will surely cause you a painful death.”

The closest animal, the one with yellow cat-like eyes, pauses its slow and steady advance and appears to sniff the wind. Jaskier can’t be sure, though, because he can’t actually see the creatures yet.

The others flank this one, eyes blinking, then tipping skyward just like the first. Jaskier recognizes these are obeying their leader, the pack alpha. It’s this center one he’ll have to deal with first.

He speaks directly to this wolf. “I mean you no harm. I’m not interested in hunting on your territory. I’m just passing through on the way to Kaer Morhen —“

The lead animal gives a short yip and then growls, and Jaskier watches in horror as the other three glowing sets of eyes fall back.

So it’s to be a fight, then.

Jaskier prepares himself as best he can, allowing the tarp to slip off his head and bunch around his shoulders at the rock’s face. He checks his grip on the handle and grits his teeth. He will not be taken down in such a way.

“Very well,” he taunts, channeling his inner warrior. “You’ve warned, Wolf. And I’ll have you know, even if you best me, something more terrifying will hunt you down. I’m the favorite Bard of the Witcher Geralt. He will avenge my death.”

And with that, Jaskier leans forward like he’d been shown, ready to brace for impact. If he gets a good clean shot and takes off the leader’s snout, maybe he can beat back the others in a similar —

But the wolf doesn’t attack in a flurry of snow and claws and jowls and snarls. Instead, it emerges from the whiteness down on its elbows, inching forward on its haunches. Its lower jaw scrapes through the snow and its eyes shine half-lidded. A pitiful whine escapes from the beast’s muzzle, and it stops just out of Jaskier’s sword’s reach.

This animal is large, much larger than Jaskier, and the reason he couldn’t see it is because it’s the same color as the blizzard.

A White Wolf.

“What —?”

The others materialize in similar fashion, sitting on their tails and watching intently. One gray, one brown, just as large as the white. But there is something odd about the black one. It’s shaped like a —

“A panther.”

Where the rest are quiet, the giant cat gives a menacing growl, and it doesn’t sit like its partners. It paces back and forth, back and forth, behind the others. Murderous gaze focused on Jaskier.

“I must be delirious,” he whispers into the wind. Giant cats, especially black ones, aren’t known to live in these mountains. Let alone befriend a pack of giant dogs.

Before Jaskier can put much energy into that, the white creature whuffles a muted woof, and its companions rise and return into the storm. Even the cat. Before long, Jaskier is left with just the one.

This massive wolf eyes him warily, holding very still for whatever mysterious reason. Jaskier can feel his muscles weakening. If he’s going to strike, he needs to do it soon.

But the animal before him is not attacking, doesn’t even seem like it’s thinking of doing so. All it does is stare with eerie, unblinking eyes.

“So, what, Wolf? You going to wait until I keel over on my own?”  It shouldn’t take long; Jaskier’s blade is shaking now, too.

Nothing. 

It eventually dawns on Jaskier that the animal isn’t staring at him so much as his sword. He tests the theory by moving it ever so slowly.

The wolf flinches sideways, but returns to its belly in the snow.

Jaskier hums.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he tries, words sounding muzzy inside his head. “I put down my sword and you go away and leave me here. Alone. In the storm.”

The beast says and does nothing.

Although Jaskier’s judgment is flawed by exhaustion and something inside tells him not to, he huffs a sigh and returns the blade to the ground at his side. He leans all of his weight against the rock and considers his next move.

But the wolf takes its turn next. It crawls through the snow, slowly, carefully, afraid but determined, until its nose bumps into Jaskier’s toe and it looks up with a baleful expression.

As if it — as if it’s apologizing.

Which — which is strange behavior for a wild animal.

“Listen,” Jaskier says, voice trembling now, too. “I’m not sure what you want, but if it’s all the same, I’d like to rest now. This infection I’m hosting is rather tiring. Best leave me to it.”

The wolf does not leave. In fact, it doesn’t move for a long time. So long that Jaskier’s strength gives out and he collapses onto his backside in an ungraceful lump.

His new companion doesn’t even flinch.

It’s about this time when the fever seizes him and Jaskier absolutely knows he’s imagining the whole thing.

“Well, now, Dream Wolf,” he sighs heavily, pulling the tarp once again over his shoulders. “I’m going to rest my eyes for just a moment. Be a good beast and watch out for any monsters, will you?”

The wolf snorts through its nose. Snowflakes that have accumulated on its unmoving form take flight. Those eyes burn intently into Jaskier’s.

He takes the response for an affirmation and succumbs to the sickness.

He dreams. In one particularly odd dream, the man who hired them to hunt a dragon, Borch, appears to say, 'What you’re missing is still out there. Your legacy. Your destiny,' and promptly unzips his skin to reveal a wolf underneath.

In another, Jaskier is talking to a woman from his past, one he can’t recall the name or location of. She’s smiling and swaying her hips seductively, touching his chin, his shoulder, his lips. And without warning, she leans in and licks a fat, drooling stripe up the length of his cheek and grins at him through very large, very convincing, very pointed canines.

Some time after that, Jaskier begins to shiver. He knows this because his teeth clatter so loudly inside his head that he wakes. The snow is still coming down in sparkling white curtains, and the wind still blows everything sideways. And the wolf is still lying at his feet, head resting on its paws, watching.

“Oi,” he says, voice a rasping nothingness. “Do us a favor and start a fire. Right?”

The animal woofs dismissively. At least, that’s what it seems like. Either that or someone is making an impressively familiar ‘Hm’ noise. 

Jaskier curls in on himself to conserve heat and allows his head to fall back to the ground. Where earlier he would have been happy for ice to chill his heated cheek, now he’s perturbed to find the snow has spilled inside his tarp and melted to make his damp clothing, if possible, wetter yet.

He drifts again, a confusing stream of consciousness that borders on hallucinogenic. When the wolf speaks to him in Geralt’s voice, telling him to shift over to make room, Jaskier thinks that, in his delirious state, perhaps he accidentally picked and ate a poisonous mushroom. It would explain the way his bones feel as if they are about to explode.

Something soft brushes against his forehead, something heavy covers his torso, and something else seeks out his frozen fingers, massaging them with a very rough, warmly wet cloth.

Jaskier fights waking like he had planned to fight the pack of wolves, but he’s forced into awareness by the incredibly itchy tickling of coarse hair right up inside his nostrils.

He sneezes and opens his eyes to find a ridiculously soft, warm, and weighty fur coat has been draped over him. It’s so soft and warm that apparently he has stretched both arms and legs over and under it, hugging it against his chest as if his life depends on it. It may very well do just that, considering the snow has piled nearly knee-high around him.

It’s dark, darker even than when he took up this campsite. Inside the blackness, sounds seem even louder, more hollow and stretched, and he’s pretty sure someone else is breathing nearby. Its pattern is slower and deeper and doesn’t match Jaskier’s at all.

When he hears his name called, Jaskier is well and truly out. He jerks awake to find a spot of yellow light in the near distance. His mind tries very hard to convince him to sit up, to wave his arms and attract the attention of whomever carries a lamp in a raging tempest. But his body clings even more tightly to the fur that covers him so well.

“Jaskier,” the annoying voice says again, closer now. It’s gruff and one he doesn’t recognize. 

Jaskier closes his eyes more tightly. “Jaskier isn’t here right now. Try again later.” And he settles even deeper into himself.

But a cold intrusion pushes hard into his cheek, pushes into his gums, into his teeth. Jaskier huffs a massive sigh of frustration and opens his eyes to find a man.

“Still alive then?” the stranger asks. “Stubborn thing, aren’t you?”

He’s tall, dressed in leather, with a receding hairline, a tangle of hair and beard, and a long scar that crosses right over his eyebrow down his cheek. There’s something familiar about his eyes, but other than that, Jaskier can’t understand why this man speaks to him like he knows him.

“Yes,” Jaskier laughs, wrapping his fingers even deeper into the fur. “And you’re not getting me out of bed. No matter what prize you offer for doing so.”

Behind him, Jaskier spots another man, and perhaps – a horse? Yes. Definitely an equine-shaped darkness beyond the light.

The man laughs, and the lantern shakes. “What if I told you I could take you to Geralt?”

Read on AO3

[daitranscripts]

Skyhold Conversation: Here Lies the Abyss

Warden Alistair

Skyhold Masterpost Related Quest: Here Lies the Abyss

The PC can speak to Alistair up on the battlements.

Speaking to Alistair before the Western Approach: Alistair: We should get to that ritual tower in the Western Approach, ideally before it lives up to its name.

Speaking to Alistair after the Western Approach: Alistair: I can’t stand this. How many Grey Wardens died here? And for what? Erimond and the Grey Wardens are definitely holed up at Adamant Fortress, by the way. Don’t know if Hawke told you.

—

Alistair: Need something else?

1 - Dialogue options:

Investigate (Hero of Ferelden survived): Where is the Hero of Ferelden? [2]

Investigate: You fought in the Blight? [3]

Investigate: Tell me about the Wardens. [4]

Investigate (after Western Approach): How could they pay this price? [5]

Investigate (after Western Approach): Who is leading the Wardens? [6]

Investigate: What do the Wardens know? [7]

General: Goodbye. [8]

2 - Investigate: Where is the Hero of Ferelden? PC: Was the Hero of Ferelden involved in all this?

Alistair: I’m not sure. After we defeated the Archdemon, [they were] made Warden-Commander of Ferelden. [They] disappeared some time ago, not long before I started investigating rumors of Corypheus. [They] may have joined the Orlesian Wardens after I went into exile. If so, hopefully [they’ll] be on our side. Alistair (Morrigan did dark ritual): But I wouldn’t count on it. When we fought the Archdemon, [they] did things that… [They] walk a dark path.

Alistair (HoF rules w/ Anora): I couldn’t say. I was exiled after [they] decided [they] preferred Anora’s company.

Alistair (romanced but HoF): No, [they] left before any of this began. A mission of [their] own, something personal. We Wardens don’t live that long. The Calling I spoke of, the real one—before it went crazy—eventually it kills us. The thing is, when we killed the Archdemon… we discovered that might not be as set in stone as we thought. So [they’re] searching for a way to end the curse. For both of us. Maybe for us all.

9 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Why aren’t you together? [10]

Investigate: You can end the Calling? [11]

Investigate: Have you been happy? [12]

Investigate: Could [they] help us? [13]

[back to 1]

10 - Investigate: Why aren’t you together? PC: The way you talk about [them], I’m surprised you aren’t still together. Alistair: Oh, there was a discussion, believe me. Someone had to look into the rumors about Corypheus. We didn’t know what was involved at the time. [They] were going to stay to help, but we had a lead that couldn’t wait. One of us had to go. When I’m done here, we’ll be together again. Forever, this time. [back to 9] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 11 - Investigate: You can end the Calling? PC: How can the Calling be stopped? If that actually possible? Alistair: Grand Enchanter Fiona was once a Warden, so I’m told, but had the taint completely drawn out of her. There was also a Warden named Avernus who extended his life far beyond what should have been possible. So we looked into it. We weren’t going to give up without a fight. That’s when we found a rumor that meant going deep into the west. It wasn’t much, but we’ve done more with less. My love will find a way. I’m certain of it. [back to 9] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 12 - Investigate: Have you been happy? PC: Have you been happy with [them] in the years since the Blight? Alistair: Happier than I ever dreamed possible. [They’re] more than I deserve… and I hope I make [their] days easier as well. [They] were rebuilding the Wardens in Ferelden, while I hunted darkspawn left over from the Blight. It was hard work for both of us, but we always had each other. [back to 9] ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 13 - Investigate: Could [they] help us? PC: If [they’ve] been looking for a way to stop the Calling, perhaps [they] could help us. Alistair (after Western Approach): I doubt it. This false Calling that Corypheus created isn’t the same as the real one. Still, it couldn’t hurt to check. [They’re] deep into the west by now, but I have a way to contact [them]. Alistair: I’ll give the information to your people in the war room. If nothing else. I’d like to warn [them] about Corypheus. [back to 9]

3 - Investigate: You fought in the Blight? Alistair: I’m going to be answering that question for the rest of my life. Yes, I was there. It was big. The Hero of Ferelden was brave. But that was ten years ago. “What have you done for use lately, Alistair?” New time, new problems. [back to 1]

4 - Investigate: Tell me about the Wardens. PC: What’s it like being a Warden? Alistair: Oh, it’s wonderful! You get fresh peaches delivered every morning, first choice of local village girls, and bunnies, too! Well maybe it’s not that. Not even close to that. (Sighs.) I watched my brothers die at Ostagar soon after I joined. Never thought I’d see Wardens kill themselves.

Dialogue options:

Special: Why were they after you? [14]

[back to 1]

14 - Special: Why were they after you? PC: Why were the Wardens trying to kill you? Alistair: When Clarel started talking blood magic and demons to deal with the Calling, I said it wasn’t a good idea. First it was awkward silences and some coughing… but when I mentioned Corypheus, things went really wild. The Warden mages said I was interfering, called me a traitor. Funny how often that happens to me. [back to 1]

5 - Investigate: How could they pay this price? PC: How could the Wardens willing sacrifice their own to summon demons? Alistair: I know it sounds nutty. Being a Warden makes us special, but it comes with a heavy price. You have to walk away from your old life and be prepared to do anything to stop the next Blight. And we are they only ones who can, the only ones willing to make the decisions—the sacrifices—to do that. You wouldn’t understand. Or, well, with that mark on your hand, maybe you would. [back to 1]

6 - Investigate: Who is leading the Wardens? PC: You mentioned Warden-Commander Clarel. Is she behind this? Alistair: She’s the one who summoned me and the other Wardens to Orlais when she started hearing the Calling. I don’t know her well. She’s a mage—smart, careful, determined. The sort of mage the the templars told me to keep a close watch over. Makes her the best kind of Warden. Or at least, I would have thought so. Maybe the templars aren’t wrong about *everything.

Dialogue options:

Special: Is Corypheus controlling her? [15]

[back to 1]

15 - Special: Is Corypheus controlling her? PC: Do you think she’s helping Corypheus willingly or was she duped? Alistair: Clarel would never serve somethin that looks like a darkspawn willingly. I heard about an “advisor” of some kind though. Maybe we’ll learn more at the Western Approach. [back to 1] (this is a follow-up conversation to the above that is only triggered after the Western approach? I’m not sure what the deal is here.)

7 - Investigate: What do the Wardens know? PC: Corypheus was held in a Warden prison, right? So the Wardens should know all about him? Alistair: You'd think the Wardens would share information with each other, but they’re really big on keeping secrets. Maybe they think some knowledge is too dangerous? I don’t know. For most Wardens, he’d be nothing more than an old legend, dead long ago. If they knew of him at all. [back to 1]

8 - Goodbye. PC: We’ll talk later. Alistair: Another time, then.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

HEY LOVELIES GUESS WHO CAME UP WITH MORE SILLINESS WHILE PLAYING ZELDA GAMES

SO. Y'all remember how Blood of the Hero stemmed from me replaying BotW and wanting to spice up the story? Fun fact about me, I can't replay a game without creating a new storyline for it in my head. So Blood of the Hero came about because I wanted to replay BotW and change the stakes, change the gameplay, change the order of things, etc. I love exploring how you can complete the game differently!

I decided to replay TotK.

But I wanted to do it differently. I wanted to avoid the main quest, build up hearts/stamina and complete the side quests because frankly they're the best part of the game to me. So I was like "how do I complete the game without getting the sages or the dragon tears?" I was puzzling over what new story I could create just for my own amusement to help me complete the game like this, and it hit me.

It's freaking Mystery Link. Who else would avoid the Main Plotline like the plague? That man can smell Destiny's Call from a mile away and Noped right out of there.

It just--it fits so perfectly and now I am having an absolute blast. Becuase I had to come up with logical reasons why the game mechanics are the way they are for Mystery Link, so why is he almost naked at the beginning? It's because he was washing his one (1) set of clothes in the river and got distracted by Friend, so then his clothes washed down the river and off a waterfall and he never found them so now he's running around in his underwear.

And this poor man. Is trying so hard. To get some clothes. But he went to Kakariko and the clothing shop is overpriced because the owner's grandma is sick, and he feels for her plight but he can't afford these prices. So off in his underwear he goes. But wait! Hateno! Fashion central! Surely they have clothes! He goes there, and has to stand around and listen to fashion people argue over tickets to get inside, and eventually when they give up he gets the solitary ticket, and--

Sophie: Oh, well since you're the only customer now, you can enter. :) Mystery: THANK HYLIA, I can finally get some-- Sophie: It's only an exhibition, but Cece herself is-- Mystery: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME

The best part is that the first set of clothes Mystery and I could find was the barbarian top, and y'all, he was so annoyed.

Mystery, finding a big shiny treasure chest: :D Mystery, realizing there are clothes inside: !!!!! :D :D :D Mystery, realizing it's a glorified leather strap and a pelt to wear as a miniskirt: WHY

I am having so much fun. Also, fun fact, trying to complete this game without a paraglider is hellish but Mystery Link and I are accepting the challenge.

[tooftreef]

Inspired by the “About You: Video Games” chart that appeared on the internet several months ago, I decided to make this “About You: Fictional Characters” chart that lists my favorite fictitious characters based on their attributes. A blank template of the chart is also provided if you want to make one.

Below is the commentary for my version of the chart.

Best character overall: Wall-E - Several factors allowed Wall-E to become my favorite fictional character of all time. Including, of course, nostalgia. Wall-E is one of the many animated movies that my parents showed me when I was little. And out of those movies, Wall-E stands out the most. I always like films whose primary characters are not human, and both Wall-E’s design and personality are charming to me. His tendency to assume his box-like form and/or yelp when he feels uneasy, his unmoving but somehow lively eyes, his relationship with Eve… Are all incredible to my young mind. Even today, Wall-E still amazes me. And Wall-E as a movie is very good as well. It’s the first movie that causes me to actively search the internet for its clips. The garbage-cleaning robot is the best fictitious character. Enough said.

Best main character: Double King - What makes the Double King the best main character/protagonist in my opinion? Firstly, he’s a titular character. If you’re going to name a media using the name of its protagonist, you have to make sure the protagonist is particularly notable. And indeed, secondly, in the very first seconds of his film, his ambition and personality is immediately made clear; he’s a selfish psychopathic monarch with an insatiable lust for crowns. His film revolves around his relentless attempts to vanquish all kinds of kings and queens so he can take their crowns. Due to this, thirdly, he is shown to be a rather competent main character, utilizing various weapons, subjects, and methods to achieve his goals. Like all protagonists, he faced difficulties in his quest, but these don’t change his behavior even a bit. What a protagonist!

Best antagonist: Fawful - What can I say about Fawful? Well, he is a villain with a jovial personality, and I like those. He’s also a villain who simply and utterly cannot defeat the protagonist if he doesn’t do advanced preparations and planning. Thus, when he attempted to take over the Mushroom Kingdom, he made all kinds of catastrophes to panic the masses, created various machines for assistance, and hired/brainwashed many beings to serve him. These antics proved effective, and his plan went exceptionally well. This is another reason why I like him, because by the time the protagonists move out, Fawful has partially won (he continues to achieve even more of his goals as the story progresses). I like stories that take place when the antagonist has or almost has reached their goal. Even without his villainy, Fawful is a very likable character by himself. And of course, I can’t forget his Engrish. Chortles.

Best side character: Dave Panpa - The Henry Stickmin Collection features many characters that play minor roles in the overall plot, but perform actions that heavily impact said plot. Examples include Wilson Stone, Danil Dolche, and of course, Jacked Hughman. Then there’s Dave Panpa. Dave is one of the oldest Henry Stickmin characters, first appearing in 2010 in the original legacy version of Escaping the Prison, and has made further appearances in all subsequent Henry Stickmin games (except Fleeing the Complex), even playing a semi-major role in one of Completing the Mission’s endings, Toppat Civil Warfare. Dave is a side character and a very minor one at that. In Escaping the Prison, he only appears in the intro alongside his partner, Rupert Price (and later tries to stop Henry’s escape with a taser), in Stealing the Diamond, he is only seen talking with Kurt Dietrich about how he got fired and later knocks himself out when he sees Henry breaking into the museum, in Infiltrating the Airship, he is only seen incarcerated in a cell (though Henry may free him), and in Completing the Mission, Henry breaks him out of his cell and he joins his side in return. However, his action, giving Henry the “cake” that he uses to escape without inspecting it, is the catalyst that causes every further event in The Henry Stickmin Collection to unfold. Plus he’s a funny guy and most definitely a hard worker. Best minor character.

Best name: Rippersnapper - If you’re looking for fictional characters with peculiar names, Transformers is the franchise to go. There, you can find curiosities such as Slayride, Waspinator, and Mixmaster. But who is the transformer (or indeed fictional character) that has the best name in my opinion? Rippersnapper. He’s a member of the Terrorcons, a group of Decepticons that are known for their intriguing names. The Terrorcons are also known for their brutal behavior, and Rippersnapper in particular likes to rip and snap, just like a shark. His name is also derived from the word “whippersnapper”, which defines a young and inexperienced person considered to be presumptuous or overconfident. Indeed, Rippersnapper is considered to physically be the weakest member of the Terrorcons, causing him to be obsessed with superiority. I also really like names that are quite long but easy to pronounce, and Rippersnapper fits the bill.

Best design: The Redman - If someone asks me to quickly think up an original character design without any further prompts, a figure resembling the Redman appears in my mind. A bizarrely-shaped head with wide eyes possessing small pupils, an equally disfigured torso often without limbs, and pairs of spindly appendages underneath that acts as legs. My subconscious has decided that the Redman’s frame is the blueprint for character designs, and can then be modified to create characters with more complex appearances. And even with that out of the way, the Redman has a very sick design in his own right. Definitely the coolest-looking One Night at Flumpty’s character. His creator, Jonochrome, even said that he should’ve saved his design for a more original project.

Best personality: Basil - Kid me would consider Basil the ideal father. This is because Basil’s behavior towards his children reminds me of my father’s behavior towards me (by the way, love you, Dad). Of course, there are some aspects of my father’s personality that I don’t quite like, and I believe that if these aspects were to be removed, my dad would perhaps act exactly like Basil. In the few episodes of Bugtopia where Basil appears, he is shown to be a chill individual who tries to be polite to anyone he meets, and I have a soft spot for characters like that. A̶l̶s̶o̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶’̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶r̶a̶i̶g̶h̶t̶.̶ For these reasons, Basil is also my favorite Bugtopia character in general, and obviously n̲o̲n̲e̲ of his children has ever acted abrasively toward him. Nope, not at all. After all, this anthropomorphic orthopteran is definitely a competent family man!

Best ability: Leon - The can-like beings that are featured in the television series Canimals are capable of doing quite honestly insane things. But this is what I think makes them memorable. There’s Nia, capable of letting out a tumultuous scream, there’s Pow, an owl who’s capable of flight and e̲m̲i̲t̲t̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲f̲r̲e̲a̲k̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲l̲a̲s̲e̲r̲ ̲w̲a̲v̲e̲s̲ ̲f̲r̲o̲m̲ ̲h̲i̲s̲ ̲e̲y̲e̲s̲, and of course, there’s Leon. When I was younger and frequently watched Canimals, Leon always stood out to me. Firstly, because he is one of the few characters in the show that are reptiles (I like reptiles), and secondly and more importantly, he possesses an intriguing array of abilities. He is naturally an adept climber since he’s a chameleon, which also means he can change the color of his skin. He utilizes this for several things in the series, such as to express his feelings (he turns red when he’s angry, and he turns blue when he’s cold). He also has an illogically long tongue that is nonetheless very useful, as it can be used as a multi-purpose tool or an additional limb. He can also straight-up disappear, turning completely invisible, appearing as if he’s vanishing into thin air. I also like the sound he makes when he turns invisible or changes color. I wish I had a .ogg file of it…

Best role: A - A is legitimately the most underappreciated character in Alphabet Lore. A is one of the several letters that are on the protagonistic side with G, and A is used multiple times to form many words (and thus objects) that cause the plot to progress; the CAB, the VAN, the MAP, the COWARD in N's dream, and even the 'fart' F made in the flashback. Indeed, the fact that A is willing to help the good guys vanquish what they think is evil shows that A is a rather sane character, at least when compared to some other letters. A is even shown to be sad when B is lying on the ground after being mauled by F. Furthermore, A is the very first character introduced in the animation and is present until the very end, when G's team watches F's flashback. This means A has been through the whole thing. Ayy... A truly deserves to be in the Alphabet Lore logo alongside L.

Best backstory: Snowdrake’s Mother - Snowdrake’s Mother, like most Undertale characters, has an at best vague backstory. However, she is an amalgamate, and the notes found in the True Laboratory provides information about how the amalgamates came into being; after finding out that determination is what makes human souls so resilient, Dr. Alphys decided to directly inject determination into her monster test subjects. However, since the bodies of monsters lack enough physical matter to handle determination, they begin to melt and mix themselves to gain more physical matter. Snowdrake’s Mother is one of these unfortunate test subjects, and her in-game quotes suggest that she misses her son so much. To spare her in her battle, the player even needs to help her remember the happy times she had with her family before her transformation. And thankfully, in Undertale’s happy ending (the pacifist ending), she manages to reunite with her son and husband. She may look rather hideous now, but her family doesn’t mind; they are just as happy to meet her as she is to meet them. I always like the amalgamates and how they can only be encountered in the pacifist route, and Snowdrake’s Mother in particular is quite c̲o̲o̲l̲.

Best death: Fellstar - Fellstar, one of the most enigmatic and wholesome Serina characters. He is a mechanical being of unclear origin who landed on a life-bearing moon to study its environment, and while doing so encountered a curious reaper named Eve. As years pass, Fellstar and Eve grew fond of each other; Eve gladly helps Fellstar discover Serina’s biodiversity, which he is more than happy to witness. And Fellstar, too, helped Eve discover perspectives that she would otherwise never know. Eve and Fellstar spent a good ten years together, but things started to change when Eve noticed one of Fellstar’s legs fall off. More of his legs followed, and Eve realized that her friend was dying. Not by slowing down due to age, but by literally falling apart. Eventually, Fellstar’s physical capabilities weakened, but his curiosity did not. But still, no matter how hard she tried to prevent it from happening, Fellstar ultimately met his inevitable end. Before his system stops working, he manages to get a final look at Eve, who places lots of flowers near the unmoving body of her alien friend. Fellstar is gone, but the change he left upon Eve is not. Lastly, the text readable in The Visitor Part 4, presumably generated by Fellstar’s programming before it shut down for good, is the cherry on top of the cake. My behavior pattern after reading Fellstar’s story has become highly altruistic.

Best voice: Air Force One Angel - I like the Air Force One Angel’s voice, and not just because it sounds like it’s said by someone using an extremely broken mic. The Angel has a notably echoey voice, like multiple individuals attempting to speak at the same time, which makes sense if you think about it because the Angel is the amalgamated soul of seventeen soldiers. Their voice also has another intriguing property; it’s rather loud, quite unclear (if you don’t pay attention you might not know what they’re saying), and combined with the mentioned echoey quality, gives it a pretty… Ethereal vibe. Perfect for an exceptionally powerful entity beyond human comprehension capable of breaking down entire universes. The Angel has definitely spoken more than once in The Monument Mythos lore, but we only get to hear their voice in ANGELASHES, the third episode of the series’ third season (which is now unlisted). Also, I know that The Monument Mythos isn’t really an analog horror series at this point, but the Angel’s voice sounds like something you’d hear from an old analog device.

Best goal: SCP-168 - I have to admit, this is probably the most absurd statement in this chart. There are thousands of SCPs, and the one that I think has the best goal is SCP-168? Heck, I’m even gonna say that SCP-168 is the fictional character that has the best goal! So, what even is the goal of this sentient calculator? Well, from its article in the SCP Wiki, it can be concluded that it was owned by someone named Eric (SCP-066 is another, more popular SCP that was also presumably under Eric’s ownership). Like most other sentient SCPs associated with Eric, it deeply cares about and wishes to reunite with its former owner, and I like this goal because it’s fairly wholesome. I know there are lots of other SCPs with goals that are as or even more wholesome, but the goal of the Eric SCPs, to reconvene with the enigmatic individual who used to be with them, is special because I think it can be realized. I’m pretty sure an organization as powerful as the Foundation can readily identify and locate this Eric guy, and then let him at least briefly reconcile with his anomalous objects. After all, it’s unlikely that their reunion is going to have negative consequences. Now, there are a handful of SCPs that share the goal of wanting to meet Eric with 168, but why do I choose this calculator then, let’s just say, 066? Well, this is because as a calculator it is its job to help Eric solve his mathematical problems. When photographed using SCP-978, the camera that can reveal a being’s deepest desires, it is even shown being held by a kid with a book titled “Maths You Need a Calculator for” nearby. As a high school student who frequently struggle with maths, I respect this desire. Lastly, I also happen to share a goal with SCP-168 as well! That goal is: To avoid long divisions.

Best fictional species: Modular Person - All Tomorrows is a magnificent work of art if you’re the type of person who wants to see what would happen to humanity if they encounter a malevolent extraterrestrial race that views them as disgusting lowly creatures. Long story short, after the star people met the Qu, exquisite organisms such as lopsiders, striders, and hand flappers came into being. But the post-human species that suffered the most is arguably the colonials. The Qu were especially pissed at them because they managed to resist their forces twice before finally being subdued in the third conflict, so the overzealous space bugs punished them by genetically modifying them into essentially living carpets that must consume the Qu’s waste products to live. The Qu made sure to keep their eyes and sapience so they could see and comprehend their wretched fate. Their pitiful existence gets worse when the Qu suddenly decides to abandon humanity and leave. With the primary producer of their food gone, how are they supposed to survive? But the colonials are the hardiest of the post-humans, and they find a way. To live more efficiently, the colonials organize themselves into groups, and each member of a group is tasked with performing a specific function; locomotion, sensing, manipulation… And eventually, every colonial group effectively acts as individual superorganisms, possessing modules who are completely adapted to do specific tasks. Ocular modules have massive eyes, manipulator modules function as arms, and digestion modules assimilate nutrients into their fellow group members. Once living carpets, the modular people are now like living bricks, able to break apart the individual modules in their bodies to become smaller or combine themselves to get larger. Finally, another reason why I like this unique sophont species is because when it comes to speculative biology, I like superorganisms; synergetically-interacting organisms of the same species. The modular people prove that humanity d̲o̲e̲s̲ have an indomitable will.

First character that [I] favorite: Beetlemuncher - There is of course quite some history of how and why the Beetlemuncher became the very first fictitious character that I consider my favorite. About a decade ago, when my mother (bless her) found out what video games are, she decided to install one on her newly obtained laptop. That game happened to be Insaniquarium, and after beating it and unlocking the virtual tank, she made the surprising but wholesome decision to represent each member of her immediate family with a fish in the tank. After some negotiation, she put Guppies and Carnivores of various colors in the virtual tank that represents her parents and siblings. Of course, she didn’t leave her husband and son behind. I remember, my dad got a Guppycruncher, and then it was my turn to choose my fish. My mom brought me to the virtual tank’s shop interface, and she asked me which fish I like of the available choices. At that moment, a green chameleon-like creature with two limbs and big round eyes caught my attention. My young herpetology-obsessed mind immediately picked it, and with a swift motion of the mouse, my mom bought it, putting that Beetlemuncher, which now represents me, in the virtual tank. Once I’m older and able to play my mom’s copy of Insaniquarium on my own, I quickly learned that Beetlemunchers produce pearls and consume beetles spawned by Guppycrunchers, and they’re the reason Tank 3 is my favorite part of the game (besides the music). Unfortunately, the laptop that contained this historic copy of Insaniquarium has fallen into disrepair, which means my mom’s virtual tank and all of its inhabitants are now gone. Nevertheless, the insectivorous goofy-looking tadpole thingies will always have a special place in my heart.

Random character [I] really like for some reason: Tamataki & Chamataki - I don’t know why I put Tamataki and Chamataki in this chart. As mentioned, they’re just a (or technically two) random character(s) that I really like for some reason. Here are some possible reasons why my subconscious insists that this givanium-overdosed diapsid is a favorable character: Firstly, I really, really like reptiles (several other characters in this chart of mine are reptilian in appearance, notice), especially huge monstrous ones that are overly aggressive for no reason, because who doesn’t like unnecessary aggression in fiction? Secondly, they have a rather interesting backstory; Tamataki and Chamataki were created when the scientists of Banban’s Kindergarten added too many animal genomes into a single givanium-infused body. This presumably caused a phenomenon called genome cloy to occur, causing the unfortunate testee to become extremely hostile. I especially like this backstory because characters with backstories that have something to do with unethical experimentations peculiarly tingles my mind. L̶a̶s̶t̶l̶y̶,̶ ̶T̶a̶m̶a̶t̶a̶k̶i̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶C̶h̶a̶m̶a̶t̶a̶k̶i̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶n̶d̶i̶e̶ ̶v̶i̶d̶e̶o̶ ̶g̶a̶m̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶a̶n̶c̶h̶i̶s̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶h̶o̶n̶e̶s̶t̶l̶y̶ ̶q̶u̶i̶t̶e̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶’̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶d̶e̶s̶e̶r̶v̶e̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶x̶c̶e̶s̶s̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶g̶e̶t̶s̶.̶ I wish I can think of more reasons of why I adore this chameleon-turtle hybrid, but at the end of the day, I don’t think I need to have any reason at all to like them.

Character that reminds [me] of [myself] the most: Cleveland Brown - Cleveland Brown is the fictional character that reminds me the most about myself, and this is not a personal opinion! It was my friends who watch Family Guy who pointed out Cleveland’s behavioral similarity to me. I don’t watch Family Guy, but upon hearing that one of the characters in it is comparable to me, I decided to watch some Family Guy episodes (or more correctly, Family Guy clips that feature Cleveland) to get the idea myself. I even read Cleveland’s Wikipedia article to get further information, and after concluding and realizing that Cleveland’s primary disposition is that he is very calm and patient, even when he wishes he isn’t, I think he i̲s̲ quite similar to me. If compared to Peter, Joe, and/or Quagmire, or indeed most other Family Guy characters, it’s clear that Cleveland has a particularly rational mind, and in real life, I also often feel like a single sane individual in a group of oddball friends. Now, I want to talk about his professions. Cleveland is currently a postman, but he was also a deli owner. Now, I’m still at high school and don’t have a real job yet, but there were times when I routinely collected money by performing select tasks for my mom: Helping her sell pizza (my mom makes and sells pizza as a side job), and delivering accouterments from her to her siblings, associates, or other familiars with my bicycle. I know, even if only amateurly, how it feels to be a merchant and postal worker. Thanks to Cleveland, I can finally assure myself that it is indeed okay to just sigh around when problems appear. I think.

Best group: Trash and the Gang - One of the reasons that I think make Five Nights at Freddy’s a unique franchise is that it often categorizes its primary characters (the animatronics) into various “classes”. A “class” is a group of animatronics that shares physical characteristics and usually has a certain adjective placed before their main names. Each animatronic class in FNaF is awesome in its own ways, but I think the best group, or rather g̲a̲n̲g̲ of characters both in FNaF and in general is Trash and the Gang. Just look at them! An assortment of everyday objects that have been arranged to resemble crude figures. They are introduced in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria Simulator and are described as animatronic entertainers. Yeah, I don’t know if any of these guys (except Mr. Hugs) actually have electronics in them. And there’s something up with you if you claim that you can get entertained by them. But this is what makes me like them. Design-wise they’re so purposefully stupid that in a franchise like FNaF, it’s ingenious. I also like to ponder how they move. Other FNaF animatronics are capable of moving because they’re, you know, animatronics, but since Trash and the Gang doesn’t seem to even have motors, and as far as I’m aware they’re not possessed by the souls of vengeful children, it often puzzles me how these things are animate. Regardless, I believe that Trash and the Gang are the only enigmatic (as in not much is shown about them) FNaF characters that are intentionally not made to be scary. Just ask No. 1 Crate, and she’ll answer with her quiet soothing voice.

Still deciding whether making this chart is a genuinely good use of my time or not.

[pen-observing]

Genshin harem manhwa au!

CHAPTER FOUR OF SEVEN. characters: capitano & zhongli (seperate) x gn! reader word count: 4.8k (1.8k + 3k respectively) warnings: you can understand every character's story seperately, capitano calls you 'little one' but not in a weird way, zhongli's starts off funny, ajax is presumed dead in capitano's chapter.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

CAPITANO - YOU ARE LOOKING FOR REVENGE BUT HE STANDS IN YOUR WAY. HE SWEARS TO TAKE UP THE SWORD FOR YOU AND PROVE YOUR FOOLISH NATURE.

Sometimes it amazes you – this life that is. How, while you are taking determined steps to a bar that deals in the underground circles, people around here are living carefree lives. They take hold of their lover’s hands or lead children so they don’t get lost while buying animal ears for fun.  

You bite the inside of your cheek.   Ajax was once like that. Your heavy steps inside of this light atmosphere to your destination remind you of him. How, whenever there was a festival, he would ask for a day off. He was such a wonderful knight that you always allowed him to do as he wished because you knew he had his reasons.  

After you gave your permission, he would say he wanted to speak as a friend; then, he would invite you to help him look after his younger brother. He would bring you simple peasant clothes to mask your identity and then the two of you would walk down the street hand in hand while leading the curious-eyed child along.  

Thanks to those moments, you were somewhat acquainted with the true situation inside this small kingdom you were supposed to rule later. Your parents ignored the complaints and problems inside, but every outing with Ajax helped solidify the true state of it inside your mind.  

You were supposed to ascend the throne later. Ajax was supposed to stand by your side as the trusty knight he has always been. Your kingdom was supposed to prosper. Ajax was not supposed to die.  

That thought comes back again! Your determined steps take a small detour. By now you are away from the shining lights and faces of the citizens that spelled the doom of your bloodline. But Ajax’s blood belonged to them; not to your family and certainly not on the carpet and the walls underneath your castle while he helped you escape.  

Ajax should not be dead right now!  

But he is. And you have been unable to cope all this time. That is why you are crouching beneath a tree; taking deep breaths and trying to calm yourself down.   Inside that bar hides your only hope of vengeance. You have spent three years searching for any trace of that infamous informant. You know nothing besides that he frequents this establishment and that for a good price, he is willing to give you the name of the one who struck down Ajax. 

With that renewal of hope inside your soul, you finally rise to your feet and pull the hood over your head before continuing down the dirty path. There are no lights that lead to that bar, only some footsteps in the middle of a grass field and you hope they are trustworthy enough.   The money you paid did not lie. After an hour of walking through that forest, you finally found a house which had a worn-out sign. ‘Rowdy Dog’, the name of the bar that stood between you and your purpose.  

Pulling your hood again, you opened the doors. You were sure that if you did knock, they would immediately throw you out. Luckily, they currently happened to consist of just three quests and a bartender. With that quick scan, you decided that immediately getting a drink would be the next best choice.  

The chairs were squeaky and uncomfortable, but you sat in one right across the bartender. Your contact told you that he was the worst kind of man to deal with. And looking at him; confirming his size and build and that long hair which people said he used to mask a particularly bad scar from his shoulder to his stomach; you know the contact was right.  

The other guests didn’t pay you much attention and you doubt they even noticed you from how drunk they were but he... his eyes were already telling you to leave. It seemed like he was doubtful of your purpose and hoped a warning by rejecting to speak first would be enough to get you to turn back.  

But your quest for revenge was greater than anything else and you could certainly deal with a bartender before your informant got here.  

“Whiskey.”  

You noticed everyone you dealt with to get this far ordered that drink so surely it would prove you knew how to dabble in this line of business.  

The man turned around and put down a glass and a bottle of whiskey on the counter in front of you. Him not talking was unnerving.  

“Are you so clever not to pretend you saw my cue telling you to leave or are you so dumb that you choose to stick around.”  

Him speaking was already starting to give you a headache.  

“Just pour me a glass and ignore my presence.”  “This is my bar; by extension, it is my house. If I put down a bottle and a glass in front of you, it means that you have to pour it yourself.”  

You never thought such a deep and smooth voice could cause you this much annoyance.  

“Is there a reason why your particular business model is so prejudiced towards me Sir?”  “Yes. You are too soft hearted to set foot in this place.”   “It is none of your business what I do here.”   “Would you like me to kick you out right now?” 

Your informant was right. For a man that ran the bar most frequented by assassins and criminals with bounties on their heads; he was too dignified and moral. So what if you are a young person that never killed anyone? You swore to only use your sword on the person who killed Ajax and nobody else.   Still, you had to get on this man’s good graces or your new informant would never trust you either.  

You poured yourself a glass while thinking that it was necessary to put up with this for just a while longer.  

“Are you happy now?”   You were about to bring the glass to your lips but before you could, the bartender took everything in front of you and placed it behind the counter.  

“At least you are willing to bluff where it doesn’t count.”  “What is that supposed to mean? And the way you are running this establishment is horrible!”  

The man pinched the bridge of his nose and then he glared at you.  

“Meet me in the back in five minutes.”  “Excuse me?”  

He didn’t even dignify you with a response. He simply walked away and slammed the door behind him. You suppose nobody would dare to steal from him. But, why should you wait five minutes? You decided to immediately follow him instead. 

Outside, he was standing leaning against the wall with a cigarette in between his fingers. You approached and he was kind enough to blow smoke in the opposite direction. 

“I see you do not even possess patience.”  “Why are you acting this way towards someone you never met so far?”  

The man took in another puff and leaned his head on the wall as well looking up at the bright moon.  

“An innocent soul was never supposed to step foot into that bar.”  “You made it what it is. I don’t think you get to choose who steps into it or why.”   “Little one, you are so wrong about everything you have done tonight. Tell me, does the atmosphere inside that place fill you with any joy?”  “No. I don’t see how it could fill anyone with joy.”   “Wrong again. And that proves my point.”  

This man was incorrigible. Your head was staring to hurt more and more but something about him wanting to protect innocent people reminded you of Ajax. You decided that for the sake of your dead friend, you would take off your mask for a few minutes.  

“Do you think I am innocent even if my family caused poverty and death in this city?”  “Yes. Did your own hands ever do anything? Those guests inside are filled with joy by knowing everyone else in there has killed and felt blood on their tongue. It makes no sense to you; that violence.”  

How horrible. How could you not lay down your mask when this man seems to have a natural ability to disarm people?  

“Tell me, is the reason you are here revenge?” He says it nonchalantly, but his eyes look at you with a plea and a hope that you will say no. 

“It is. I have someone who was more innocent than me and they died by people who said they were seeking justice.”  “I would say that you too wish to protect innocent souls, but the dead do not need protection. Why not turn around and start something new like I did?”  

His cigarette is finished by now and he dims out it’s last light by stepping on it. 

“Something new? Isn’t your bar the place where everything you regret doing, other people plan to do?”  “Ironic, isn’t it?”  

Silence. Something about him makes you feel peaceful, and you hate it.  

“How can you sound so sure when seeing those guests?”  “It is simple. Trying to save them would be futile, but saving you like this would be enough. Wouldn’t you say you’ve enjoyed out conversation so far?”   “You cannot save me. I made up my mind long ago. I will avenge him.”  “A lover perhaps?”  “My knight.”  

He looks at you and laughs. His laugh sounds regretful, so you don’t take it as an insult. 

“A knight you say? And you said he had a soul purer than yours?”  “Yes. You sound like you disagree.”  “Before this, I was a knight of the enemy kingdom. The title of a knight is never innocent. We gain it by swearing to kill so that we can protect flimsy ideals and even weaker families.”  

All this time, you never even imagined Ajax’s sword decorated by another human’s blood. That image shattered your world. Revenge for a pure soul? Maybe it was revenge for yourself but just masked as less selfish.  

“Tell you what;”, the man kneels down in front of your feet. You can tell that his body automatically remembers the grace and honor knights carry on their backs. Ajax so quickly fell into this stance too.  

“To save your soul, I will be your new knight. To prevent you tasting blood, I will be the one to spill it for you. I’ve done it so many times that I can do it again.”  

Incorrigible man. Paradoxical man. 

“I do not need a new knight.”  “You need someone that will show you just how pointless revenge truly is.”  

When he says that, he looks up at you with piercing eyes. It will be your resolve versus his own and, as much as you hate to admit, it looks like he will win. Maybe that is why you hear Ajax’s laughter. Maybe that is why you get transported into the white room again. This golden door, it echoes with his laugh. Honey-like, warm and it is calling your name. 

Not answering it would be a sin. 

ZHONGLI - EVERYONE THINKS THE KING IS DEAD. IN REALITY, HE IS HIDING IN YOUR HOUSE SAYING HE NEEDS YOUR HELP.

“You again? I already made it very clear to you that your presence is disturbing to my chickens!” 

He is here again. You have debts to pay, and he is disrupting your quiet and small farm. Again. This is the third day in a row. Soon enough you will be as restless as your chickens if this man with intricate tattoos on his arms keeps coming back.  

Wait..coming back? That isn’t the right word. He doesn’t leave! He just spends all of his time here! Why on earth has this man, too tall for you to look at without stretching your neck, decided that sleeping every night in your chicken coop is the most comfortable place one can get some rest? He must be insane. One of those special calibres a friend told you about a while ago; like that man who thought waiting inside hospitals was the biggest joy he had so he would go to one every single day and just sit there.  

“I apologize for disturbing your chickens and, by extent, you. I have no other place to do.” 

Liar. Even if he has been sleeping inside of here for three days his clothes are of such fine fabric you refuse to believe his excuse being homelessness. Bandits pretend they need help all the time; they pretend to be sick and when someone lets them into their house, they rob them and escape with possessions that person spent all their life obtaining. You will not be fooled by his sweet disposition. He should count himself lucky you didn’t chase him away with a broom yet. Truthfully, your heart does not tell you that he is a bad person or that he wishes to spread evil but..he is a suspicious figure! One day, you walked inside the coop with your basket, ready to greet the mostly-nameless-chickens when Miguel (your roster, and, quite frankly, favorite one) screamed as soon as you opened the door while he was about to pluck the top of a sleeping man’s head.  

“If you have enough sense to apologize, then you have enough sense to leave my household and my coop. So, please, walk away somewhere else.” 

The man looks at you with eyes that seem more authoritative than his current homeless position would imply but you refuse to give in and look away. A staring contest first thing in the morning works wonders for your spirits.  

“Like I already said-”, he begins, and you already know how the sentence would end if Miguel didn’t sneak up on him and pecked his ankle. The man bit the inside of his cheek in frustration and looked down at the creature below him. It didn’t seem like it hurt him at all, it seemed like he found it an annoyance more than anything.  

“Tell this chicken that people should get to finish their sentences.”  “He did what any living being would when their home is invaded.”  “I did not invade his home. Be careful of what you accuse me of. I will admit that my presence here seems invasive to your home, but I just needed a place to stay that was very far away and quiet.”  “Then just walk a few more steps into the forest itself and it will serve you nicely.” 

For some reason, when you say that, Miguel starts to scream like never before, you can feel that the air feels heavier and...are his eyes glowing? No, you imagined it. In a split second everything is back to normal. Must have been all the stress. 

“It looks like you haven’t been sleeping lately but I assure you my presence should make no difference to your daily life. I have not even taken one of your eggs to eat in the three days I have been here – can that not be called fair?” 

The arrogance of this man. Does he really think this is a fair trade?  

“Your presence in this coop has decreased my egg production by 47 percent already!”  “Are you sure...did you really calculate that or did you make that number on the spot?”  “What if I did? Accurate number or not, if you continue to stay here, eventually, I will not be able to pay off my debts either way. I am on a very strict payment plan you see.”  

He puts a hand to his chin and looks down at Miguel again. He probably thinks you cannot understand what he is mumbling about but you hear it quite well. He says it is not surprise that your business is failing when you make up numbers on the spot. But then he drops his hand and looks at you.  

“I will leave this chicken coop.”  “So you finally have some sense?”  “If you allow me to sleep on your front porch instead.” 

You raise your eyebrow. It would help your production more and in turn you would be able to pay off your debts but...a grown man sleeping like a dog in front of your porch is not the best solution. Still, if you don’t pay them back in regular instalments they said they would destroy your property so...it should be fine? 

“Fine. But under no circumstances am I letting you inside of my house. Are we clear?”  “Absolutely. I thank you for your kindness?” 

Kindness? You saw him walk around with a stiff back and bruises and all the dirt. Miguel is a big fan of making sure this man gets as dirty as possible..just because you let him stay without feeding him does not mean you are kind. Well, you did give him one slice of bread on the first day since you thought he seemed like a victim. 

“Suit yourself. I still do not see what the difference between this and the forest is!” 

As you walk away, he sighs. Twice. Then he looks at Miguel again who is preparing to attack his ankles again. 

“Your owner really does not feel their own potential... What a shame. Shouldn’t the fact I am so close by be an awakening for that power in them?” he hisses.  “Miguel, if you bring your beak to my ankle once more, I will make you fly.”  

You said that and he really did move to your porch. Right now, you are cooking dinner and he just spends his time sitting there. You waved to him through the window because he sometimes gets up to walk around on the humble porch of an even more humble house.  

But something tells you it was a mistake. To hold a cooking spoon in one hand and to wave at him through the other. Why? Because as soon as he waved back, rain started to pour. The sound on your stove immediately got dimmed from the strength of the downpour and you knew that even the plants would live to regret the strength of this rain. But...it was a bigger mistake because your roof above the porch was never patched up and the rain seemed to be falling at such an angle that the man would get hit with it no matter what.  

It tugged on your heart, and you opened the front door. In those few minutes, your entire porch was already filled with water and, no matter how close to the house he stood, the man was completely wet. His long hair clung to his forearms and neck, his clothes were clinging to his skin too.  

“I know what I said but--” 

As if to help the urgency of your kindness, hail started to fall from the sky and you just quickly tugged on the man’s sleeve to bring him inside your house.  

“I will let you stay inside just for tonight.”  

He remained quiet and stood completely still next to the door. 

“You have my thanks.”  “Well, walk further inside?”  “No. That would prove I lack manners. Since I am all wet it is better if I stay in one place while I dry.”  “You-- Did you really think I would not offer you a change of clothes and a towel to dry yourself with?!”  “Well..you did let your chickens peck me for three days so..I just inferred you would be hesitant.” 

You quickly walk to another room and bring him a change of clothes without missing the chance to throw a towel in his face. 

“Here. I barely have any warm water left but go take a bath to ensure you do not catch a cold.”   “You have my sincere thanks.”  

You walk around to your counter to stir the pot. You can hear him drying his hair; somehow it annoys you his has that much volume. As you look up, wishing to glare at him, you can see that he is already shirtless and about to tug down his pants. In a moment of panic you decide that throwing the cooking spoon at him is your quickest reaction.  

“What are you doing?!”  “Hmm? I should change in this one spot because my clothes are dripping water onto your floor as well.”  “I do not want to see you change!” 

He freezes up. He has spent so much of his life inside his castle; never has anyone reprimanded him for his habits and he had his own harem. Somehow, he never expected such a reaction to befall him, and this moment just reminds him of how low he has fallen, even if he tried to show consideration towards your home.  

“You are absolutely right, I deeply apologize. I shall finish up the rest in your bathroom.”  

He tries to make his steps as light as possible when he walks by and you curse yourself for looking at his defined back.  

By his physique, he seems stronger than most..just why is he here in such a miserable state? 

“Thank you for choosing to share some of your dinner with me.”  “I did let you go hungry for three days and the rain doesn’t look like it will stop soon. So, I figured, it was the least I could do for now.” 

He sits up straight in the chair. This oversized sweater of yours fits him perfectly and the pants you brought him only reach up to his knees, but they are better than nothing.  

“You must know I... I understand your hesitance in not trusting me.”  “Do you now?” 

He nods.  

“I do not think I have given you many reasons to not trust me, but I also do not think I have given you reasons to trust me either. It crossed my mind just now that I never even gave you my name.”  “Will you give it to me now?”  “My name is Zhongli. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

He doesn’t seem to know that he should stretch his hand for a shake when introducing himself so you just raise up another spoon of broth to your mouth.  

“I am glad to finally know the name of the man who has lessened my egg production by 63 percent.”  “Wasn’t it 47 percent just this morning?” 

You did admit to making up the numbers but your cheeks still feel hot from embarrassment. 

“Hush.” 

Zhongli simply looks at you and puts a hand to his chin. He should have made more public appearances in this form, but he doubts his image as a king would have ever reached this place of solace you live in. Not only is it the smallest village in his kingdom, well, his ex-kingdom he supposes but...even with all of that you chose a house so removed from everyone else that you probably only talk to other humans once a week when you have to visit the village square.  

He wonders how you would react to knowing that you just told the most powerful king of these lands to hush up. Nobody ever did this before; he wonders if he should hate it instead of finding it endearing.  

“Could I ask you how your life has been since the king died? You might not believe this, but I did see changes when travelling all the way here.”  “What are you trying to hide from?”  “Pardon?”  “Zhongli what are- ugh never mind I actually do not wish to know. My life since the king died? My life while he was alive before the Revolutionaries took over was hard enough. You see where I live, and I have no idea why you are acting like it is a good place. To simply tell you of my life; I do not remember having a childhood, but I do remember waking up here and being cornered by some bandits. They kept asking me about my debts and I only saw the chicken coop from the window and decided to lie and say a fox snuck in and killed most of my animals.” 

Zhongli patiently listens to you. His eyes seem to glow again because of how interested he is in what you are saying. Maybe you are talking so much because you have not had human company in so long?  

“Anyway, they believed me without checking but they reminded me that I owe them for life because, apparently, I made a shady deal with them in the past. I wanted to fight but there wasn’t much I could actually do. Would they kill me? Sell me? Living in this dump and taking care of chickens to earn enough money to pay them back monthly seemed better than..living in that forest I tried to send you too.” 

Zhongli does not say much but he feels that you want him to say or ask something.  “All this time I supposed that the king only failed his people by dying but it seems like he failed you long before that. Based on my travels so far, I suppose that it only got worse after that fact?”  “Worse? It is hell! I never thought that the king had any duty towards me but maybe he did. The Revolutionaries certainly did not help anything improve! They raised taxes, which means the bandits I pay want even larger amounts of money now. I never thought the tax increase would even influence the illegal jobs of this world.”  

You take another bite of your food, but it tastes bitter this time, probably because your feelings are the same.  

“You must allow me to apologize.”  “Apologize? For what?”  “I had no idea you were in business with these..bandits...they came last night and since I deemed them suspicious I..took care of them.” 

At first, you laugh. A big, hearty laugh.   Then, Zhongli laughs with you. He was not expecting that reaction but he knows how wrong he was to relax when your spoon hits his shoulder. Now, you are glaring at him.  

“I was right not to trust you! When they return with backup what will I do then?”  

He can feel that you are panicking. And he lets you be angry at him because he knows what lies behind that is fear. He knows the prophecy; he knows why he let the rebels have the upper hand for now; he needed time to reach you – the one who is destined to help him. But with all this fear and your lack of memories or awareness of the power you hold – he had to subject himself to sleeping in your chicken coop and waiting for your power to awaken.  

It becomes crystal clear that as you are now, you will never grow into your potential without his help. He decides to approach this like everything else he has as the king right now. When you finish yelling, he extends his hand and his tattoos go from black to gold – he uses his power to make calm wash over you and he forces you to sit down in the chair again.  

“Listen to me, they will not be returning. Even bandits have enough sense to know that they will lose against me. Your chickens posed more of an issue for me.” 

Was this his way of trying to bring light to this whole situation?  

You should be angry still. You should be making sure he leaves your house; but his powers calm you beyond all harmony you have known so far.  

“How can you be so sure of yourself?”  “If you were not so filled with fear; you would remember who you are. Child of the Sun, we are the same origin. You are meant to help my mission in this world by standing as my equal. Yet, it is clear I will have to guide you regardless.” 

His..who is that man? Is he the considerate man who refuses to take another step to not wet your carpet or is he an arrogant bastard? The answer does not matter. His innocence and consideration can be the truth or a lie; you do not care.   Something in you snaps and your body grows yellow too. It lets you stand up and glare at him. Something is tugging your body and it does not feel like Zhongli’s power. You think this surge of emotions and power welling inside is going to make you faint soon, so you settle on just one sentence before you are plucked from this world and another door swallows you. 

“All of you kings are the same. And you can all beg for my help and burn as I do not answer you.” 

a/n: whelp,, it has been a while,,truly. how have you been? i hope this chapter is to your liking. I am trying to make these shorter than before but,,it is hard ://

TAGLIST: send an ask if you wish to be added.

@is-asimp , @irisxiel , @sunsethw4 , @sketcheeee , @thelonelyarchon, @magicalink , @ladycoleigh , @luvr-exe , @yuus3n , @haru-lucidream

[fishrpg]

2024-12-05: Oklahoma (Hex 5)

Dry forests of pine and oak are scattered across the prairie as it gives way to more hilly terrain. The way to the southwest, northwest, north, and southeast are craggy and prone to delays.

Notable Feature: Natural Landmark

A river in a shallow gorge winds its way through the landscape on both sides of the road; several lakes formed by the river's path are visible out to the horizon.

Secret: A Man And His Horses

A nomadic herder named Johnny Burns (which may or may not be his real name) grazes his herd of horses illegally on private property throughout the state and has somehow never been caught. His horses are prized for their racing ability and fetch an incredible price at auction, but he is only known to show up once a year with a single horse for sale at the Oklahoma Jockey Association. No one knows how to find or contact him, not even the people who regularly travel these mystical roads.

Johnny is intentionally difficult to find, as he has perfected a type of ritual that functions like a more powerful version of the Pass Without Trace spell. This spell keeps him and his herd hidden until they have left an area, but it does have one important limitation: it only obfuscates creatures from searchers on the ground. Flying a plane over the area will make it obvious where Johnny is.

If Johnny is ever found, he will offer to teach the finder(s) a ritual version of Pass Without Trace on the condition that they do not reveal his location and agree to swear a blood oath affirming this. The blood oath functions similarly to an explosive Glyph of Warding cast on a person's hand though it is not subject to the 10 foot distance limitation of the spell. The glyph explodes with fire damage and no saving throw if Johnny's secret is ever revealed to anyone who does not already know it, and it will completely obliterate the arm of whoever revealed the secret (if it doesn't outright kill them).

Service Station: Sooner Municipal Airfield

It's basically a strip of asphalt and a tiny shack where the radio operator (middle-aged man named Walker Bradley) works and other people pop in to escape the elements between flights. A corrugated metal hangar holds 1d4+2 single engine aircraft that crop dusters and aviation enthusiasts have left parked here. There are four pumps here that are spread out quite far from each other: three dispense aviation fuel and the fourth dispenses diesel.

The small-engine aircraft that launch from here have engines that use a very high octane form of leaded gasoline. It's a bit overkill for automotive engines, but regular cars of the era can use it without any trouble. The lone diesel pump is for fueling up the heavy equipment that tow planes, grade the airstrip, and keep the facility operational; but it's not uncommon for people to fill up their personal diesel vehicles here.

As long as someone gives Walker the radio operator at least a token tip, he'll conveniently forget he saw anyone filling up their vehicle. Failure to pay up means he'll take note of the offending license plate and notify both the police and any airborne pilots in the area. There's also a 1-in-6 chance that a plane will begin following the gas thief's vehicle and try to stop them long enough for the police to arrive if they don't decide to pursue vigilante justice first.

Items From Other Hexes

To be added later from Hex 26. I know what hexes are linked together with quests and secrets, but exactly what is going to be shared between those hexes has yet to be determined. This will be updated later with whatever the hidden feature is.

-----------

Apparently aviation fuel for small aircraft can actually IRL be used to fuel cars of the era because it used leaded gasoline. Modern cars that require fuel without tetraethyl lead in them can't use it, though. I am taking this information from classic car restoration forums and didn't fact check it beyond that, so if you attempt to use avgas in your vehicle, you're doing so at your own risk!

[invinciblerodent]

Now that I'm getting close to what feels like the point of no return with Ver (all side- and companion quests done, only a handful of chests and some exploration left to get to), I'm really wondering who of my Rook ideas should be the next I play

like I'm equally excited for all of them, for different reasons!

(just me thinking out loud under the cut- i've narrowed it down to all of four ideas, so that's fun)

Tristan, unlike Verbena, is going to be very straightforward in all his approaches to things- he'll be very direct and frank to the point of crassness, a quintessential "Rook" in the way that his mind moves entirely in straight lines- and it'll be a lot of fun to both experience such a Warden-heavy story AS a Warden, and at the same time roleplay him gradually softening up, and turning that hard edge towards protecting people, instead of only protecting himself.

(Plus, there's that wrinkle that he's not, entirely, uh, alive. And it'll be really fun to play through him and Emmrich kind of stumbling through budding feelings while Tristan is trying to keep the secret that he's kind of, sort of, partially a spirit of Purpose. From a necromancer. Who's teaching him manners. Shit's wild.)

The one thing making me hesitant to go with him is that I can't justify him not choosing to save Minrathous like Ver also did- it's strategically the most advantageous thing to do, and while it's regrettable that Treviso will need to pay its price, someone has to. In Death, Sacrifice. I just don't wanna do the same thing again.

his Inquisitor is my Cadash, with all the opposite decisions from my canon with my Trevelyan.

(he also has a couple "theme songs" in my head already, this one being the latest.)

Tanner, I'm very excited to delve more into all the dwarf-stuff with- she's a Lord of Fortune, a sailor, adventurer, and poet enamored by the ocean, but also an Orzammar-born dwarf- her parents were Warrior-caste, and part of the forces that Orzammar sent to combat the Blight. They decided to then remain on the surface, and Tanner, a very young girl then, fell in love with all the vast openness that the surface had to offer. She first took up arms against the Breach as an agent of the Inquisition- hence the name.

I think it'll be a very interesting roleplaying angle, to romance Harding as someone who also has very personal ties to her storyline, and will likely be tossed into a whole mess of identity issues herself.

She'll choose Treviso I think, but her story and reasoning aren't as well-formed in my head yet, so I'm thinking still a bit about an angle to approach it from- then again, that could form as I'm playing.

her Inquisitor is my Josiemancer mLavellan, with the same decisions as the ones I made canonically.

(my working song for her right now is this)

And Coris, my problematic pretty girl assassin, modeled to look as much like a portrait that hangs in the Dellamorte mansion as possible- I have this whole Plotline thought up for her to romance Lucanis through grit teeth and with a dagger behind her back- her "plan" breaking down to basically

make Lucanis Dellamorte fall madly in love with her

talk him into murdering his grandmother and taking the title of First Talon by force

murder him, but make it look like an accident so that she can wrest control of the Crows for herself- a nobody underling to the Fifth Talon wouldn't be able to, but who's gonna say no to the grieving partner of the second First they've lost in such a short time?

bonus points if Illario, that fucking bastard who ruined her life and then proceeded to not even recognize her afterwards, suffers. Even better if he dies. (I was gonna have her be mad at Viago at first, but yknow, plans change.)

She'll fail that plan at step one by catching feelings herself. Then Caterina will get "murdered", and everything is gonna fall apart, and it's a whole Mess, but maybe he won't get too mad once she comes clean about it all starting out as a ploy to crush everything he holds dear.

her worldstate has a Solavellan-romance, even though I've honestly never done that- I'm just really curious how that'll work out.

As a Crow, she'd of course choose to save Treviso too, so that adds up. (And have a fun funky lil song to her name, too.)

......

And then there's Marcus Ingellvar my dear, whom I have not even made a face for yet, but I'm just so unexpectedly enamored by Bellara that I'm even willing to play a mage(!!!!!!!!!!), just to make her smile.

I wanna play him as a Mortalitasi, and a he/him(he/they)(he/any) nonbinary person, partly to explore gender feelings (as of right now I'm in the "if I were to unpack this suitcase I might end up with something tangible but also, my native language doesn't even HAVE gendered pronouns so what do I fucking know, maybe THAT'S why 'they' feels a bit more correct than 'she'" part of it all), and maybe a little bit to confuse Taash a bit further.

yknow, they've figured out they/them as singular pronouns, get ready for a genuinely kinda gender-weird little guy, lol.

He however has the same issue as Tristan in being a pragmatic thinker, and I don't really see a way past him thinking "hey maybe letting the Venatori seize Minrathous is not, uh. the right. move, right now. things in Treviso at least can't get much worse....? maybe....?"

He's probably the least well-formed in my mind as of right now, but that has never stopped me before, has it

.......

writing it all out didn't help me decide