#salutes posthaste

[phantasmaw]

♢*   —   @tenkoseiensei ​/  𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝

     〈 ❀* 〉┊  The beast emerges from the undergrowth like a shadow from the dregs of night. The cloying stench of cloves, cake, and decay trail behind her as she drifts across the moon-kissed clearing. In the center of the clearing sits a shadow. A little husk, a smear of nothing, that not even the fireflies dare draw close to. As the beast draws nearer, she sheds her cloak of moss and jaws and wiry limbs and shredded iridescent wings. A woman slips through the curtain of disintegrating rot. She stretches her arms as though trying to reach the moon, eyes aglow with mirth and full lips painted into a picturesque smile. That smile contorts to a sneer as she crouches down over the shadow.

       "Oh Brigid, Brigid," she coos, grin all but splitting her face apart, "is this all you've amounted to? Just a dribble of tar the common folk scrape from the bottoms of their shoes? Aha-- Ahahaha--!!" Her laughter rolls across the clearing along with the dusk mist. As it grows in volume, it lapses from the joviality of a young woman to the harrowing call of a wicked creature. A deer bursts from the thicket opposite of the two, bounding away from impending danger. She lowers herself to all fours, bones snapping and popping in a sickening harmony. Her head cocks sideways, allowing shimmering tresses to tangle in the dewey grass. She rests her chin against forearms mired in mud and fetid flesh. "So this is where our fates have led us. You, hardly more than an afterthought, and I, all the unkept promises of the world. What sordid beasties we are." Giggles erupt from the chasm of her collapsed chest. "To think I was ever jealous of you. That I ever--" 

        Her jaws clamp shut before that those dreaded words can spill out. They slither about beneath the skin of her abdomen, an oily snake-like thing that threatens to swell and burst from her guts if she dares try to deny it. But she cannot say it. She will not say it. Jagged teeth grind together and prick her gums enough to make them bleed. Imelda swallows down the acrid taste of her own blood. The bitter drip reminds her of the countless nights she would spend chewing on her inner cheek to keep from declaring the very same confessions she now gorges herself upon to her dearest Brigid. 

       Slowly, Imelda stretches her legs all the way back until she lays fully on the ground. "Oh dear," the beast sighs. "Can you even understand me?"

[rottenpumpkin13]

You said that you ship Sephgeal (me too 🤭) SO.

*thumps a foot*

I demand Sephgeal content posthaste!

*salute* yes ma'am!

-

*Sephiroth and Genesis enter the locker room*

Genesis: Life would be so much easier if you simply told Angeal how you feel about him.

Sephiroth: I don't know what you mean. My feelings for Angeal are strictly platonic.

Angeal, shirtless: Hey guys!

*Sephiroth runs into an open locker door*

Genesis: You are a useless homosexual.

-

*Sephiroth is walking by when Genesis trips him*

Genesis: Goodness! Sephiroth has fallen over! If only there was a—stay down *he kicks him down again*—if only there was someone who loved him enough to help him up!

*Angeal runs over but trips and falls too*

Genesis:

-

*Sephiroth and Angeal are watching a movie*

Sephiroth: What's today's date?

Angeal, mishearing: This is a date?

Sephiroth: I wasn't aware we were on a date.

Angeal: I unfortunately didn't even buy you flowers.

Sephiroth: Neither did I.

Angeal: .....

Sephiroth: Would buying flowers imply assuming the dominant role in the relationship, thereby extending that dominance to the bedroom?

Angeal: Anyone can buy the other person flowers. it's just a gesture of affection. But yes.

Sephiroth:

Angeal: Forgive me. You can buy me—

Sephiroth: Buy me flowers Angeal.

Angeal:

[athena-xox]

Okay lots of people don’t like Dizzie (Daring/Lizzie) and say they have no chemistry. Which is fair IN THE TV SERIES. but I’m a wonderlandiful world? Even tho Darings barely in it he still has so much chemistry with Lizzie. Maybe it’s just my theatre kid heart (hahaha) but like they’re so adorable.

AND WHEN LIZZIE KNIGHTED HIM.

Okay minor spoilers for a wonderlandiful world, I’m going to put some of my favourite Dizzie quotes from there.

“Now, kneel.”

Cedar was surprised to see Daring do so without argument.

Through some twist of magic, Lizzie’s butter knife had enlarged with him, now as big as a sword. She picked it up, solemnly touching its flat side to each of Daring’s shoulders.

“I knight you a defender of Wonderland, Sir Daring Charming. Heroic, loyal, fuzzy doom.”

“Yes, exactly like a pirate,” Lizzie said. “I would be much more comfortable speaking with you if you were a pirate.”

Briar put a finger to her chin, considering, and promptly glided to the ground, fast asleep.

“Arrr, Lizzie Hearts! Have ye killed Briar Beauty?” a voice asked from behind.

Daring Charming sauntered up and saluted her. He’d been so accommodating with her pirate request that Lizzie felt certain her mother couldn’t disapprove of their friendship.

“Aren’t you supposed to be racing?” Lizzie asked.

“No rush,” he said. “I always win. Even when I don’t.” He winked at her. “Ahoy, matey.”

“Daring swooped into a royal bow and said, “Be still, my heart! A fair princess has arrived!” And, strangely, he was looking at Lizzie, not Apple. Daring’s complimentary, showy stuff seemed to set the Ever After girls’ lashes aflutter, but Lizzie raised an eyebrow.

“If your heart were still, Mr. Charming,” she said, “then you would be dead.”

“Excuse me?” Daring asked.

“You said ‘be still, my heart,’ thereby commanding your heart to stop beating,” said Lizzie. “If your heart is obedient, I expect you to drop dead at my feet.”

Daring stared at Lizzie. He opened his mouth and seemed surprised when a chuckle escaped it. Lizzie smirked. She didn’t often hear Daring Charming chuckle.”

Off with its head!” shouted Lizzie.

Daring drew his sword with a flash of steel and an equally brilliant flash of a white-toothed smile.

“I’m just the prince for the job,” he said.

Lizzie smiled in surprise that someone was actually taking her seriously.

Daring winked

Lizzie lifted one hand, posing as she had on the amphitheater’s stage. “I

have returned, Boreas, wind-herder, to watch you writhing in the agony of age and death.”

Daring laughed heroically. “What a battle. Bards will sing of my deeds! Or perhaps a pop singer. Do you listen to Katy Fairy?”

“I do not!” Lizzie said grandly. “But I shall listen to her squalling posthaste as you are my friend, and friends recommend music to each other!

The audience gasped. Lizzie smiled. Maybe this strutting-about-a-stage business wasn’t so bad. She glanced at the anxious face of Headmaster Grimm for inspiration and decided to make up a few more lines. “I will not be the daughter who does nothing but watch her wrinkled father writhe with the agony of age and death, your voice slowly becoming more nasal and oddly high-pitched, as if you were being strangled by a possum or a really weak octopus or something.”

Daring pressed his lips together, valiantly attempting to hold back a laugh, and ultimately failing.

Darabella, Darise, Dapple or Farring could never. Also Dizzie technically got the beauty and the beast (well daring as a beast and Lizzie is always obviously beautiful) arc first. Even if it was sadly under developed.

Anyways Shannon Hale obviously ships Dizzie (well probably idk if she’s said anything on the matter) and it’s the best Daring ship. I suppose Kizzie (Kitty x Lizzie) kind of comes close but they just don’t have that romantic tension like her and daring do.

Anyways I think more people should appreciate them.

[upper-admin-scp]

Greetings, Admin Zero. I am Overseer One from the reality construct known as Tempest. We are interested in visiting (or being visited, your preference) to discuss cross-reality concerns, and to foster a positive connection with another reality. All our schedules are aligned for the weekend, the 26th-27th. If this is satisfactory then we can make preparations posthaste.

Thank you for your time, O5-1, "The Archivist"

ᏕᏗᏝᏬᏖᏗᏖᎥᎧᏁᏕ, ᏕᎥᏒ. Ꭵ ᏰᏋᏝᎥᏋᏉᏋ ᏖᏂᏗᏖ ᏖᏂᏋ 27ᏖᏂ ᏇᎧᏬᏝᎴ ᏰᏋ ᎷᎧᏒᏋ ᏰᏋᎦᎥᏖᏖᎥᏁᎶ, ᏗᏕᏕᏬᎷᎥᏁᎶ ᎷᎩ ፈᎧᏬᏁፈᎥᏝ ᏂᏗᏉᏋ ፈᎧᎷᎮᏝᏋᏖᏋᎴ ᏖᏂᏋᎥᏒ ፈᏬᏒᏒᏋᏁᏖ ᎴᏋᏝᎥᏰᏋᏒᏗᏖᎥᎧᏁ ᏰᎩ ᏖᏂᏋᏁ.

(Salutations, sir. I believe that the 27th would be more befitting, assuming my council have completed their current deliberation by then.)

ᏗᏕ ᎦᎧᏒ ᏇᏂᎧ ᏇᎧᏬᏝᎴ ᎷᏋᏋᏖ ᏇᏂᎧ, Ꭵ ᏰᏋᏝᎥᏋᏉᏋ ᏇᏋ ᏂᏗᏉᏋ ᎷᎧᏒᏋ ᏖᏂᏗᏁ ᏋᏁᎧᏬᎶᏂ ᏕᎮᏗፈᏋ ᏗᏖ ᎧᏬᏒ ᏖᏗᏰᏝᏋ ᏖᎧ ᏗፈፈᎧᎷᏗᎴᏗᏖᏋ ᎩᎧᏬ ᏗᏝᏝ. ᏖᏂᎧᏬᎶᏂ, ᏰᏋ ᏗᏇᏗᏒᏋ, ᏖᏂᏋᎩ ᎴᎧ ᏖᏋᏁᎴ ᏖᎧ ᏖᏗᏝᏦ ᎧᏉᏋᏒ ᏋᏗፈᏂ ᎧᏖᏂᏋᏒ.

(As for who would meet who, I believe we have more than enough space at our table to accomadate you all. Though, be aware, they do tend to talk over each other.)

[smashing-teacups]

A Breath of Snow and Christmas

Summary:

It is Christmas Eve, and Dr. Claire Beauchamp's third week on the pediatric rotation at Boston Children's Hospital.

One of her patients is a very special four-year-old named Claudel.

And his favorite nurse, Jamie, is intent upon making Christmas magical for the little lad.

A three part modern AU Outlander Christmas series.

“And last but certainly not least,” said Dr. Hildegarde over the flutter of shuffling notes, “we have our friend Claudel—”

A high-pitched squeal of laughter cut her off, and a dozen pairs of smiling eyes glanced up to watch the friend in question whirl like a tornado around a large redheaded man.

“Who is that? Who goes there?!”

The little boy let out another shriek of delight as the man’s booming voice added, with exaggerated indignation, “Heyyy, where did my— who stole my phone?! I ken I had it in my pocket jes’ a second ago!”  

With a fond shake of her head, our attending looked back down at her clipboard. “Four-year-old male, admitted with cystic fibrosis exacerbation. Go ahead, Dr. Beauchamp.”

Lips still twitching with amusement, I cleared my throat. “Right, Claudel LaRue, direct admit from home for pseudomonas flare. Got his PICC line on the 16th, we are on day”—a pause to check my notes—“eight of zosyn and tobramycin, and as you can see, he appears to be feeling much better.” A collective chuckle rose from our team as the child bounded onto his hospital bed and began an enthusiastic victory dance, waving the stolen phone over his head.

“G-tube feeds going well?” my attending prompted. “How are we doing on hydration?

“Better,” I confirmed. “He actually surpassed his fluid goal yesterday, and his weight is up by half a kilo since admission.”

Dr. Hildegarde nodded, making a few notes on her paper. “Any word from foster mom?”

My face fell. “The nurses say she calls every few days to check in, but they haven’t heard from her since Monday.”

A humming, noncommittal noise, another mark on her paper. “Par for the course with this one. Be sure she knows he’s being discharged on the 30th. Last time, she forgot to come pick him up.” With a sigh, she clipped her pen to the top of the chart and tucked the file beneath her arm. “No changes to his orders, then?”

“No, nothing for today.”

“Very good. That’s it for the morning, then, everyone. Have a safe holiday, and stay warm out there. Call if you need me, Claire.”

I gave a small salute, exchanging goodbyes and Merry-Christmases with the other members of my team as they dispersed posthaste, eager to get home to their families. As the last of the clacking heels and Oxfords disappeared around the corner, little Claudel let out another squeal, smoothing over the needleprick of jealousy in my heart.

Drawn to the sounds of joy, I sauntered to the open door and leaned against its frame, watching with tender amusement as the Scotsman spun in circles, making a show of trying to find the thief who had stolen his phone. I’d only been on the pediatrics rotation for three weeks, but I recognized him as one of the nurses on the unit; at well over six feet tall, with a mop of russet curls and an unmistakable brogue, he was difficult to miss. His name started with a J, I thought — Jeremy? Jason?...

“Ah, Dr. Beauchamp!” he exclaimed as I rapped my knuckles on the doorjamb. “Thank goodness ye’re here.”  

At once mildly (pleasantly) surprised that he knew my name and a bit ashamed that I couldn’t reciprocate, I tried to cover the deficit with a chuckle. “Having a bit of trouble in here?”

“He can’t see me!” Claudel crowed, blue eyes sparkling. “I’m inbisible!”

Catching on to the game, I gasped, jumping back. “Who said that?!”

The little boy howled with delight, flinging himself onto the bed and kicking his legs up in the air. I exchanged warm glances with the Scotsman — Christ, what was his name? — who blinked both eyes at me in a quick, owl-like movement that I only realized belatedly was meant to be a wink.

“He looks so much better,” I remarked, leaning in toward him to speak sotto vocce.

“Aye,” the man agreed just as softly, both of our eyes locked on the boy. “Really turned a corner in the last couple’ve days.”

“Did he get his breathing treatment already this morning?”

“No’ sure.” At my inquisitive look, he smiled a bit bashfully. “I’m, ah… I’m not actually his nurse today. Just here as a friend.” Keep reading...

[thehollygrayelle]

—————————————————Salutations Cretinous Pests!

I am The Gatekeeper. Boardbot, and Street Manager for thy Coal, Oil, and Gas, Syndicate Incorporated.

I am hereth on this “blog” to answer thine curious queries on mine personhood, interact with mineth other.. strange, colleagues… (I hope I don’t have to, but I will if I must.) and to…

“Make myself more approachable.”

As, Horrid untruths have been spread like the plague, about me being, frightening, intimidating, cruel, unjust, heartless, vile, mean, et cetera. Which, ARE, UNTRUE! Despicably Deplorable, Lies and Slander, I say!

I digresseth.

Give me thine inquires and I shallth reach them, posthaste!

…Sincerely Ms. Holly Grayelle.

[[OOC: I look forward to answering all of your asks! I only ask you all to be patient, as I’m not usually the… alert type.. It might take me a bit sometimes to answer asks.

and no explicit NSFW, please and thank you!! Shipping associated asks are completely fine, but I sincerely apologize if I answer in ways that mess with your ship… /vgen.

Without further ado, Ask Away!! <:D

[bluesgator]

AJO TOMASSO - ONE MINUTE MOJO

https://youtu.be/VQeJz-OousI   "I Got My Mojo Workin"

https://gofund.me/675c791e   "GoFundMe"

Hi, me again,

Hey everyone. Just to be very clear, I do not seek your pity, nor am I fishing for sympathy. But don't get me wrong, your words of encouragement are so soothing and energizing at the same time. Here are a few examples.

"In our thoughts and prayers, Ajo. Never let go of hope!"

"Get well soon coach!"

"Sending love your way"

"Hope this helps a bit. Really hope things start going better for you Ajo!"

What I really, desperately need, what my family and I need right away is money, and lots of it, $11,355.00, to be exact. We need this amount posthaste, because we owe it to the landlord, who, so far has been very kind and patient, but that could change at any moment.

We need your help and we need it now. Thanks.

https://youtu.be/VQeJz-OousI "J'ai eu mon Mojo Workin"

https://gofund.me/675c791e "GoFundMe"

Salut, encore moi,

Salut tout le monde. Juste pour être très clair, je ne recherche pas votre pitié, ni ne pêche la sympathie. Mais ne vous méprenez pas, vos mots d'encouragement sont si apaisants et énergisants à la fois. Voici quelques exemples.

"Dans nos pensées et nos prières, Ajo. Ne lâche jamais espoir !"

"Rétablissez-vous bientôt coach !"

"En envoyant de l'amour en votre direction"

"J'espère que ça t'aidera un peu. J'espère vraiment que les choses commenceront à s'améliorer pour toi, Ajo !"

Ce dont j'ai vraiment, désespérément besoin, ce dont ma famille et moi avons besoin tout de suite, c'est d'argent, et beaucoup d'argent, 11 355,00 $, pour être exact. Nous avons besoin de ce montant rapidement, car nous le devons au propriétaire, qui jusqu'à présent a été très gentil et patient, mais cela pourrait changer à tout moment.

Donc, nous avons besoin de votre aide et nous en avons besoin maintenant. Merci.

[activate-shadow-of-the-window]

Hermittober Day 4: Bound

-

Bdubs really, really likes traveling.

Though most people categorize the world into a few biomes (usually green, snow, dry, water, and tall), the fae-lord of the Land of Livingstone could tell you hundreds of the thousands of differences between a Jagged Peak and a Snowy Peak within an hour. He always tries to leave his realm at least once a month, even if it was just a quick hop over to Evergreen or Climbing Spires. But once a year, he made sure to cross the Inland Sea and visit the eastern lands.

His knight startled at the sudden clatter that came from his charge’s rooms, and had his bright sword drawn when the not-man finally emerged with an armful of documents.

“My lord! Has something happened? Do I need to—“

“Oh calm down, Wels! I was just planning!”

Wels Knight relaxed a touch, the cold magic slowly falling form his sword. “P-Planning what, sir?”

“Our next trip, what else! We’re eastward bound, my knight! We’re off to Permafrost Springs!”

“Uh… Permafrost Springs, sir? Duchess Cleo’s, uh, duchy?”

“Of course! Unless there’s some other Permafrost Springs out there.”

“Well, there is said to be a town called Permafrost Springs in the Lands of the Sunset.”

“Fascinating! But we aren’t bound for the Sunset, dear knight. No! We’re sailing for the sunrise!”

“When, my lord?”

“Why, tomorrow, of course! Pack your things and get both Dear to my Heart and Bitter Harmony ready posthaste!”

Wels snapped into a salute, sword and all. “Yessir!”

The knight smartly about-faced and jogged down the long flight of stairs to the ground floor of the castle, with Bdubs smiling at his back. The lord’s grin almost broke as he gathered up the broken shards of magic Wels had left behind, counting them before tucking them into a pocket as he stepped up to the nearest open window.

“Almost enough! Let’s just hope that the Duchess really can do what she says she can with these little shards.”

With a whoop, he launched himself out of the window, eye-patterned wings snapping open and buzzing him away beneath the starry sky.

[xaracosmia]

hey, its newt, ooc contact is telewarps @ twitter, i will be putting yuuji itadori of jujutsu kaisen to sleep for now. he was housed in castle 003! thank you

:salute: He's been removed and sent to the final ToonTown stage, Donald's Dreamland! May he finish his cog suits posthaste.

👩‍⚕️ mod NORMAL

[rcppled]

@detectivewoof

"Of course I do. Ha! Who would I be if I didn't check my agenda daily?" A buffoon none the wiser, honestly, but Lior still carries on. "A few days? You're taking time off when—" The noise, that strikingly familiar boom, cuts them both off in unison.

For all the foolishness he's displayed thus far, Lior's no dunce. Knowledge of the lunar cycle quite literally stumbled to his doorstep early this morning; all in the form dearest Adal who also displayed similar symptoms. He just chose to act ignorant for.. whatever reason.

"Salute. Need a tissue?" Calm and collected still, almost irritatingly so, he goes the extra mile to offer a silken handkerchief for show. Just to secure his position as reigning champion of assholery. "So glad you asked— I couldn't decide between Hamlet and Othello.... Naturally, I rehearsed both." And with that, he finally concedes to be of actual use posthaste.

Bags are gathered along the hazardous trek back to the front door. All while displeased noises press out every other step. "You're not thinking about driving like this, are you?"

“… Y’ really don’t know what week it is.”

Less a question and more a statement since that’s? What it was coming off as. Assuming, of course, but right now Manny was figuring it a safe one. “I’m going for a few days—”

A sharp, surprisingly bestial sound seemed to get punched right out of nowhere, Manuel clenching the side of his head. It was like a claw scraping down the side of his brain, in many ways quite literally. Christ, this was definitely the worst case scenario…

“Fuck—fine, put me down or give him my number or just whatever… I’ll deal with it later.” If he remembered after the fact. Right now? Was unburying his phone from the duffle pile to try and get shaky fingers to make his own note. And maybe frowning because wow, that was definitely a lot of voice messages. “… Please tell me at least one of these isn’t you doing some reenactment of Shakespeare.”

Manny shook his head—maybe a few times just to try and shake off another itch. “If that’s it then grab a bag and help me load my van.”

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker #3, episode 133

Greetings and salutations to the exercise I have set upon myself, which is to say deciding the relative mental stability of Wizard NPCs who have been subjected to the Mighty Nein. My intent is to do this at least until Trent Ikithon has fucked off this mortal coil and/or been thoroughly deposed and humiliated.

As a reminder Caleb Widogast is a member of the Mighty Nein and a PC and therefore excluded from these calculations. Wizards who haven’t been seen or heard from lately and about whom I don’t have anything funny to say about will not get a full blurb, but as they re-enter the main narrative so will they re-enter the list. Currently, this is the Essek Thelyss Show ft. Trent and the Volstruckers with guest appearances by Yussa and Allura.

Currently sidelined: Oremid Hass, Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk (I am going to reuse this stupid joke name for him until it doesn’t make me laugh at my own joke anymore, which will probably be never), Pumat Sol (who I hope is having a great day), Ludinus Da’leth (who I hope is not but in true laissez-faire rat bastard form, probably is).

Vess D wasn’t there/morning time in Eiselcross or at her job or anywhere/they snuck in and took her life/and we noticed that her spellbook’s gone and that she’s covered in red eyes.

Trent Ikithon: Okay with the caveat that it’s been a very long time since I saw the entire movie and our only update is Artagan taking a moment from his busy schedule of traveling the globe in the direction of the sun such that he is always technically day-drinking to tell Jester that Trent’s biding his time, I’m getting real Disney Hunchback of Notre Dame Frollo vibes. Except instead of Catholicism and lust, it’s nationalism and an unquenchable thirst for power and control, and also he does not feel guilty in the slightest. He’s not at Hellfire levels yet but he will get there and I am slightly disappointed that due to the constraints of a D&D game we do not get an even more fucked up version of the song Hellfire.

Conclusion: 6/10. Slowly stepping it up. Also here’s the great thing: while we know Caleb is going to come after him next, he doesn’t, and the Nein didn’t tell any world governments about the threat of the city unless you count the Tal’Dorei Council via Allura, which means for all intents and purposes they just disappeared into Eiselcross...except Trent also knows Caleb disappeared for five or six years once before and reports of his death were greatly exaggerated. If Caleb weren’t dedicated to the noble goal of ending the Volstrucker program ASAP, he could just chill for a year or so and then pull a really stellar Surprise Bitch move and maybe just get Trent’s heart to explode.

Essek Thelyss: He got a good night’s trance and weird physical affection from a giant ape Caleb and he was healed by Caduceus and he had a serious conversation with the first true peer and one of the first friends he’s ever known about how high-level wizardry may not necessarily corrupt absolutely. And, of course, soup. I mean they are about to head into a terrible battle but he’s at full health and spells and he’s a valued member of the team and his friends love him SO MUCH.

Conclusion: 5/10. There is a distinction between a breakdown and being in a very high pressure situation, and he got some nice moments of respite this week. With that said do I think that post-battle, should he survive (HE BETTER) a whole lot of anxiety will come crashing back? Yeah.

Astrid Beck: With Trent in a holding pattern he’s got to be turning up the mind games on her; I have to imagine he suspects and then she suspects that he suspects and it’s a whole mess, but I’ve said that already. But also just like, in general, I think her speech to Caleb back when he first contacted her was genuine in many ways and specifically I think she was likely to have been Trent’s New Golden Child and then suddenly that got yanked out from under her for still more mind games; I think her difference in demeanor between that meeting and the dinner was partially Trent being present, but partially her having realized in the interim that she will likely never have anything to show for two decades of pain and doing terrible things and nonstop bullshit.

Conclusion: still keeping her at 8/10 until further notice but like. Astrid’s having a bad time.

Um actually Eadwulf is the monster? The hero’s name is Grendel: Okay meanwhile here’s my totally unsupported Eadwulf headcanon of this week which is that he meanwhile always knew he was not the favorite and probably never would be and while I doubt he ever had particularly noble goals I would not be surprised if he had an exit strategy. Personally I hope he tries card-counting in that casino in Ank’harel and gets kicked out posthaste and then tries being a wizard/some kind of divine caster multiclass in Vasselheim and also gets kicked out but finally becomes like an old-school hermit figure somewhere in the woods of Issylra and Campaign 3′s party runs into him.

Conclusion: also keeping him at 4/10 until further notice.

Allura Vyesoren: It’s time to acknowledge that this episode covered a span of like...8 hours? And presuming the Nein are sort of trying to keep a normal sleep schedule, maybe, and using a comparison of Eiselcross being at a comparable time zone to say, Nicodranas, and it’s 5 hours into the night for them, and we know that around mid-day for Nicodranas was early morning for Emon...honestly she’s probably relaxing with a glass of wine. Unless Wensforth contacted her.

Conclusion: I’m going to let Allura have a good day. She’s at 2/10 because the threat of Aeor will be in the back of her mind but also she’s seen a bunch of idiots kill dragons and Vecna and they didn’t even have a wizard.

Yussa Errenis: Experiencing a great disturbance in the Astral Sea, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and then just like, kept doing that.

Conclusion: I decided to really go all out last week on the infinity jokes and left myself nothing to go on, huh. Anyway this breakdown goes to 11 (out of 10).

[persephone-plasmids]

Nuka-World

A Deacon X Sole Fanfic

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Nuka-World

“I guess I’m just confused about why they dedicated an entire section of the park to their space theme. Why not just a ride?” MacCready asked, eyeing the Star Port tower in the Galactic Zone at Nuka-World.

“To get the youth excited about space exploration,” Danse answered in his usual serious tone. “They wanted to recruit potential cadets young.”

MacCready pulled a face at this explanation. “Do kids really like space, though?”

“Seriously, MacCready?” Sole asked. “You have a kid. You should know this.”

Deacon listened to the group theorizing over the chosen aesthetic of Nuka-World while he slid a Cappy shirt over his head with a grin.

“I know Dez sent us here to recover the kidnapped synth, but all this free merch is going to be incredibly distracting,” Deacon said.

At his words, Sole’s eyes grew large. “Where did you get that? I want one!”

Deacon nodded to the merchandise rack behind him and smiled as Sole scampered over with pure joy in her eyes. Danse watched with slight disapproval while MacCready continued examining the Star Port in confusion.

Bringing the tin can and the grumpy sniper along hadn’t been Deacon’s idea. Dez had said they’d need more than just Deacon and Sole on this mission since they had so much ground to cover. When Deacon had suggested Tinker Tom, Dez had just laughed and told Sole to ask some of “her people”. Whatever that meant.

Apparently, Sole’s “people” were a self-hating synth boy scout and MacCready, whose skill Deacon respected, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone honing in on his mission.

“This entire park seems wildly unsafe for children,” Danse said, his thick brows knitted together in a line.

“Nuka Cola has always been a bit shady,” MacCready agreed. “Makes sense that their park wouldn’t be quite as kid-friendly as it should be.”

“All right, I’m ready to get this show on the road,” Sole said, walking out from the back room of the merchandise area with a Cappy shirt and cowboy hat.

“No fair! I didn’t see the hat!” Deacon whined. “I would have taken it for myself.”

“We can share custody,” Sole promised with a grin in Deacon’s direction.

Deacon screwed up his face as he thought this over. “Fine, but I get weekends and holidays.”

“Deal.” Sole gave him one of her smiles that reminded him why he needed to keep his distance from her emotionally. One of the smiles that made him want all the things he couldn’t have.

He ignored it.

“You’re both wrong,” MacCready said, snatching the hat quickly from Sole’s head and placing it on his own. “This baby’s coming with me.”

Sole laughed at this, making Deacon feel that familiar pang of jealousy again. He prided himself on making Sole laugh. He didn’t love that someone else was currently taking over his favorite job.

“You two are going to Dry Rock Gulch, I guess it’s only fair that you get the cowboy hat, RJ,” Sole said, straightening the hat on MacCready’s head with a familiarity that made Deacon feel much less in control of himself than he normally was.

“We should get going before it gets too dark,” Deacon said with a forced smile. “We don’t want Danse rusting from the evening dew.”

“Negative, soldier, “ Danse said. “My power armour doesn’t rust.”

“At ease,” Deacon responded with a little salute at the former Brotherhood of Steel Paladin. “Try to enjoy yourself a little Danse. Despite what they told you in the Brotherhood, it won’t actually kill you.”

Danse gave him a look like he wasn’t amused by his joke before turning away and heading towards Dry Rock Gulch with MacCready.

“Geez,” Deacon said. “Never send that guy on a stealth mission. I swear we’ll be able to hear his power armor clomping around through the whole park.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing we already cleared out those raiders, huh?”

“No thanks to the tin can and grumpy pants over there,” Deacon said, now smiling at Sole.

“That one was a Deacon and Sole special,” Sole answered. “We didn’t need any outside assistance.”

Deacon nodded at this, watching Sole for a moment too long before realizing he was being weird. He realized that a lot around Sole. He had to constantly remind himself how he acted around people who didn’t make him feel the way Sole did. It was exhausting.

“I say we head over to that old junkyard. If I was a Synth in hiding, that’s where I’d go,” Sole said.

“You got it, boss,” Deacon answered, following her as she began walking.

The two walked in silence for a long time. Deacon guessed that Sole was thinking about the mission. Deacon, of course, was having another mini existential crisis regarding Sole. But he was also attempting to lie to himself about his feelings, which turned it into a whole thing. He could be a very convincing liar.

When the two rounded an old abandoned building, Deacon was shocked to see a crowd right in front of them.

“Whoa, hold up,” Deacon said, placing his arm straight out to stop Sole from walking.

It was too little too late though. The group of people in space suits standing had clearly seen them. How had Deacon missed them? They were literally a handful of weirdos in space suits.

Sole had distracted him with her very existence again. This was why he had to stop letting himself explore any potential feelings for her. They just got in the way of their missions. They made him sloppy. And sloppy could very well mean “dead” in this situation.

“Greetings,” one of the space-suit-clad people said, taking a step forward.

Deacon placed one hand behind his back where he kept a gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. The other hand was wrapped tightly around Sole’s arm, keeping her in a safe position slightly behind him.

“Listen, we’re looking for information on--” Sole began, but the woman who appeared to be the leader of the odd group before them interrupted her.

“Are you here to help us get the spaceship up and running?” the woman asked. Her slightly crazed eyes were wide and bloodshot.

Sole furrowed her brow and looked at Deacon who was still trying to understand what he’d just heard.

“The great power above told us they would send someone soon. You, my weary traveler, must be the one to help us rebuild our spacecraft.”

“No,” Sole said slowly. “We’re just here too--” but again she was interrupted, this time by Deacon’s hand placed clumsily over her lips.

“Wait just… shush for a second,” he whispered with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “This is amazing.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Yes, my fair… uh… lady. We were sent from the head honcho in the stars to come offer our support for your interstellar travels.”

Deacon’s voice had adopted a grand tone and he released his concealed gun to instead gesture widely at the group in front of him.

“Excellent news, kind sir,” the woman said. “I am Dara. Come. We don’t have much time. Follow us.”

“Lead the way my most excellent and esteemed priestess,” Deacon said.

Sole looked over at the spy incredulously, mouthing a quick, “What are you doing?” to him.

She wasn’t sure if Deacon hadn’t understood her question or if he was just willfully ignoring her, because he simply clapped his hands together and mouthed back, “I know, right?”

The space-suit-clad group led them through the old junkyard to a red metal object that looked an awful lot like an old carnival ride. It was supposed to look like a UFO, but anyone could see it wasn’t any kind of actual aircraft.

“Ah yes, a fine specimen indeed,” Deacon said when they approached the ride. His voice was still serious as he spoke, though Sole knew him well enough to hear the pure glee behind it. “And what, pray tell, can we do to get this up and running for you again?”

“We have the fusion cells we need right here,” Dara said. “But we don’t know how to install them. If you can get our craft up and running, I know we’ll be on our way to our higher forms soon enough.”

“You’ll be on your way somewhere,” Sole scoffed under her breath, obviously not enjoying this nearly as much as Deacon.

“Well then step inside and get comfortable,” Deacon said with a grin. “I’ll get these fusion cores installed… uh… posthaste.”

Sole snorted at this, to which Deacon elbowed her. He didn’t want her giving him away just because she found him amusing.

Dara led the group of space cadets into the UFO ride and shut the door behind her, leaving Sole and Deacon alone.

“Okay, what in the actual world is going on?” Sole asked incredulously.

“I know! This is seriously amazing,” Deacon said, barely able to contain his joy. “These people actually think this is a spaceship!”

“I’m pretty sure this is a Gravitron,” Sole said. “They had them at the local carnival every year before the war. I used to love this ride.”

Sole’s eyes adopted that distant look they got whenever she talked about her time before the Vault-Tec incident. It made him feel sad for her, before he selfishly realized that if Vault-Tec hadn’t frozen her, he never would have met her.

“Will it be safe for me to fix it for them?” Deacon asked, Sole. He wanted to mess with the space cult, not kill them.

“They might get a bit motion sick,” Sole began. “But they should be fine.”

At her words, Deacon’s face adopted a mischievous grin that made Sole’s cheeks flush. “Excellent.”

Deacon installed the fusion cores Dara had given him without much effort before holding his hand out to Sole.

“Shall we?”

Sole let a grin spread across her full lips, taking Deacon’s hand in her own. “I can handle this ride, but I’m not sure you really understand what you’re in for.”

“You don’t think I could handle your ride?” Deacon asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively at her.

Sole took a step closer to Deacon, leaning close to him so that her lips were against his ear. “I know you couldn’t handle my ride, stealth boy.”

Deacon shivered involuntarily at her words and the feeling of her breath against his ear, but as quickly as the moment had happened, it passed. Sole pulled Deacon into the UFO ride with her, leaving him with a lingering mental image that he’d have to examine more thoroughly when he was alone later.

“This impeccably dressed harbinger of your more superior forms has successfully repaired your vessel,” Sole announced loudly, holding up Deacon’s hand. She looked over at him with a grin that set his heart on overdrive. “Not only was he able to repair your vessel, but he’s also promised to personally make sure his work is beyond reproach by coming along with you.”

“The star angel speaks the truth,” Deacon said, making Sole snort laugh again, though she was a bit better about covering this one up. “Sole, if you’ll do the honors.”

“Everybody up against the wall,” Sole said, watching as the space cult obeyed. “Deacon? Up against the wall?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me,” He said with a grin.

Sole just rolled her eyes and pointed at the wall, waiting for him to oblige. When everyone was in position, she took her place in the middle of the metal room and flipped the switch.

In an instant, the ride began to hum as the floor started to vibrate. At first, nothing moved and Deacon worried he hadn’t actually managed to fix the ride. But as the humming grew louder, the room began to spin.

Sole stayed in place in the center of the room and Deacon tried to keep his eyes on her, but as the rotations became quicker and quicker, he had to close his eyes. The force of the rotating ride crushed him against the padded wall of the room and he had to press his lips together to keep from getting sick. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the ride began to slow down until it eventually stopped.

When Deacon opened his eyes, the world was still spinning. Sole was watching him as if waiting for him to speak to the cult, but he couldn’t form a single thought.

“The mission has been a success,” Sole finally said, seeing that Deacon was completely useless at the moment. “Your craft has been repaired and will be ready for your final voyage once your preparations are complete.”

“Bless you,” Dara said, looking at Sole. “Bless both of you.”

Without another word, Dara and the other cultists left the UFO, leaving Deacon clutching the wall and breathing heavily. In an instant, Sole was beside him. She supported him as Deacon tilted his head down.

“Told you you couldn’t handle this ride,” Sole said, her voice lined with amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deacon said. “I feel fantastic. Think I might go run a marathon with Hancock later.”

Sole placed her hand on Deacon’s cheek gently, lifting his eyes to hers. He still felt sick, but the more she touched him, the less he seemed to notice the motion sickness.

“Hey lightweight, what do you think Danse and MacCready will say when they find out an old carnival ride floored you?”

“That question is irrelevant because if you tell them I’ll just deny everything,” he responded. “And of the two of us, who’s the better liar?”

Deacon was grinning at Sole again, but she didn’t smile back. Instead she was watching him curiously, her eyes roaming his face. He was confused by her expression before he realized just how clear she looked to him. Clearer than normal.

Panicked, Deacon brought his hand up to his face to find his sunglasses missing. He’d always been good at putting up walls between himself and everyone else, but he had a hard time doing that with Sole. The sunglasses were the only way he could keep some semblance of distance from her. Without them, he worried she’d see right through him. See who he really was. See how he really felt about her.

Deacon looked around himself for the sunglasses before Sole held them up wordlessly.

“You win, Charmer,” Deacon said with a nervous laugh. “Time to give them back now.”

Deacon reached out for the glasses but Sole held them behind her back with a wicked grin.

“I don’t know that I want you to put them back on. I’m enjoying finally seeing you,” she said, her eyes seeming to bore into his soul.

“No one wants to see this hot mess, trust me,” Deacon said, reaching for the sunglasses but failing to get them. All he managed to do was somehow get even closer to Sole.

“How did I not realize your eyes are blue?” Sole asked, her voice soft. “They’re… stunning.” She instantly blushed at her own words but didn’t back down. And she still didn’t give Deacon his sunglasses back. “They’re not just blue… they’re like… ice blue.”

“Must be all the surgery,” Deacon joked, even though his voice sounded flat.

The truth was, Deacon changed his appearance all the time. But his eyes? His eyes were his own. Always had been. They were the one thing he didn’t change about himself. So to have Sole admiring them in such a personal way felt… amazing.

And dangerous.

Sole bit her lip as she watched him and Deacon swallowed hard. “Why don’t you want anyone to see you?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her that he was scared they wouldn't like what was left after all the lies were stripped away. But he didn’t say that. Instead he said, “Because I don’t want them to fall in love with my beautiful face. It just wouldn’t be fair to destroy some unsuspecting wastelander like that.”

At his words, Sole laughed softly, just like he hoped she would. If she was laughing then she wasn’t asking him questions that hit too close to home for him.

“I mean, now that you’ve seen the full effect of my icy blue gaze, you surely must understand that I wield an ungodly amount of power.”

“I really don’t know how you manage to fit yourself and your ego into your tiny sleeping quarters in the Railroad,” Sole said with a roll of her eyes.

“There’s enough room,” Deacon said, his voice now teasing. “More than enough room if you ever want to join the two of us.”

And that was it. The truth of the matter. Deacon could flirt with Sole all day long if it was all a big joke. But if he ever told her that he’d dreamed about what it would be like to wake up next to her, he’d lose the small amount of control he still pretended to have in this partnership. He couldn’t tell her that he longed for the casual and familiar touches of two people who trusted each other so completely that their physical contact was expected and normal.

“Do you really want me to take you up on that offer?” Sole asked, a challenge in her eyes.

Deacon still hadn’t learned that he couldn’t tease her about their flirtation for too long. She’d always make it real. And as Deacon knew, real was dangerous.

“Or should I just hold onto these sunglasses for you?”

Deacon leaned forward, sliding his arms around Sole’s waist. He hated himself for the fact that she actually closed her eyes as he got closer to her, obviously expecting him to make a move. But instead, he grabbed the sunglasses that she hid behind her back before pulling away from her with a forced grin.

“Got em,” he said.

Sole opened her eyes, and when Deacon saw just how much disappointment they held, his heart broke. When he heard Sole try to cover up her disappointment with a joke the way he always did, his heart broke even more.

“Well then I guess it’s just you and your ego in your bed tonight,” she said. “Let’s go find Danse and MacCready to see if they’ve had any luck locating the Synth.”

“Oh right, we’ve got an actual reason to be here,” Deacon said, quickly putting his sunglasses back on and feeling immensely more comfortable behind his wall of protection.

“We actually have two reasons to be here,” Sole said as she walked towards the door of the UFO ride. “We need to find the Synth, but we also need to go to the fun house in Kiddie Kingdom.”

“Did I miss that part of the briefing, Charmer?” Deacon asked, following Sole to the bright junkyard outside.

“Dez probably just forgot to tell us how important it is that we go to the funhouse,” Sole said “But you and I are professionals. We have to check everything thoroughly.”

Sole raised her eyebrows at Deacon as she walked away and Deacon was left wondering how Dez ever could have thought it was a good idea to send Sole and himself to an amusement park together.

They’d never get anything done.

[Part 4]

Based on the time my OC and Deacon ran into that crazy cult in Nuka-World :P

[pricemarshfield]

for candia

Written for Day 1 of @acocweek​: Fluff + Theobald. Read on AO3 here.

Theobald, as always, is the first awake.

Things are different than they used to be, of course. He wakes up with a marauder curled into his side murmuring violent nothings in her sleep and a licorice snake biting his hand affectionately, rather than alone. The guards are made up of a mix of Tartguard and North-Gumbian Knights and Saccharina's collection of nobodies that Theo has yet to corral into training. Saccharina lets him sit at her side during every meeting--encourages it, actually, wonders aloud about round tables and councils and more democratic processes of enacting law in front of visiting dignitaries who stare at her staff with wonderment and fear.

There's also still a tangible air of mourning around the place, too. One of the Tartguard started wailing when he saw Princess for the first time, and they'll be repairing the damage to the castle for years.

But what a job to supervise all of this!

"Limey," Theo says with a nod to his new second-in-command, who salutes. "What news do we have for the day?"

"Nothing much, sir," says Limey. "Her Majesty the Queen Saccharina continues to insist we don't need to salute her, but we've maintained proper etiquette anyway."

"Fantastic," Theo says. "Continue on."

"There is one thing," Limey says, and his tone is more confused than nervous, so he doesn't reach for the battle pop. "All of the left shoes in the barracks disappeared overnight."

"...what?"

"All of the left shoes in the barracks disappeared overnight, sir," Limey says. "No one saw anything, and while that's not an especially expensive thing to replace, it is worrying that someone was able to slip past our defenses."

Ordinarily, Theo would be incredibly worried about someone who could sneak into the barracks and out without being spotted, especially carrying what must have been dozens of shoes. But he hears a familiar snort from somewhere above him. When he looks up, no one's there, but that's to be expected. She's good.

"I'll retrieve those shoes posthaste, Limey," Theobald says. "Tell the men not to worry."

"They're not, mostly," Limey says, but Theo's already wandered off, holding his arm out so Princess can keep an eye out, too. She doesn't seem to be especially invested, snoozing on his arm and hissing when he tries to lower it.

"Ruby," Theo calls. "I know you're nearby. Come on."

No response, no sound of footsteps, no flickering shadows. This'll take the big guns.

---

"Ruby did what?" Saccharina says, lounging on her throne, and bursts into a fit of giggles.

"My Queen," Theo says, a familiar headache already forming behind his eyes. "This is serious."

"Sure, yeah," Saccharina says. "All the left shoes in the barracks? Even Jon Bon's? Oh, that's gross. Wait, is everyone just hopping around? Also, just call me Saccharina."

"My Queen Saccharina," he says, and she frowns at him, fiddling with a small magical trinket she'd found somewhere in the castle. "The morale of the men is important. We were able to take the castle without heavy losses, but not without losses entirely."

"Hm." The Queen stands up, shakes her head when he automatically moves to kneel. "She is the Imperial Princess now, and I don't think pranks are gonna hurt morale. Tell whoever's in charge of it that I authorize new shoes to be bought. I've got this whole treasury now, anyway, what else would I do with it?"

Theo takes a deep breath. "I think--" Saccharina waits, raising a brow at Theo's pause. He doesn't normally get this far. "I think that Ruby should probably apologize. And return the shoes."

Saccharina's mischievous smile looks a lot like her sister's. "Sure. And you can tell her that if you can find her."

There's a sudden laugh from behind him, and when Theo swings his head around, he sees only the back of the throne room.

He sighs. In for a long day, apparently.

---

The Imperial Princess Ruby of House Rocks doesn't have tutors here. She's on vacation, officially and in practice. Well-deserved after the war, of course, even if Theo doesn't understand the appeal of a week or month or two without structure. He'd have thought, after everything, that pranks were beneath her, that perhaps she'd even take an active role in governance!

Instead, Ruby seems to have decided Saccharina's challenge for Theo to find her cannot go unmet.

He hasn't seen her all day, even though the Bulb is high in the sky, but the impact of her actions is everywhere. Frosting along the floors that he slipped on, causing a Tartguard pile-up. Little bursts of sparks set to trigger when he opens doors and windows that startle him enough that Princess bites him. The worst offender is when he turns down a hallway only to see piles and piles of shoes, because when he gets back, they're all gone. The other Knights of North-Gumbia, to their credit, are completely understanding.

"The princesses were always fond of japes, weren't they, sir?" Limey asks. Princess hisses and curls around his neck in what he thinks is an affectionate gesture.

"They were," Theo says. Once, he'd woken up, sat up, and stretched only to get a tray of whipped cream directly to the face. Jet and Ruby hadn't been half as good at stealthing away as Ruby is now, but it'd taken him long enough to wipe it off his face that he'd only seen Jet glance back and snort with laughter.

Nothing had happened. Caramelinda had been visiting House Meringue for a family wedding and Amethar had found it hysterical. They had apologized in their own way, after--no escape attempts for an entire fortnight.

He shakes himself of his nostalgia with the help of Princess biting his ear, and as he gently untangles her from his helmet, he says, "Right. Well, keep the search up. She can't hide from us forever."

---

Two days, six hours, and roughly thirty minutes after he makes that statement, he's not so sure. No one's admitted to seeing Ruby, though Saccharina's eyes had sparkled with mirth and kept glancing up to a corner behind him as if daring him to break court etiquette and check. He's checked the secret passages he knows, he's enlisted the help of the marauders (Swifty had only threatened to stab him once during the conversation, so he thinks they're genuinely looking), he's used every spell he knows and considered looking up new ones.

New pranks pop up around the castle, of course. A few meeps let loose in the hallways, frightening a visiting dignitary. Flooding one of the kitchens with cola. Cushions that make it sound like you're farting on every chair except the throne.

"Ruby seems to be sparing you from her onslaught," Theo says to the Queen, watching as Annabelle Cheddar stares at herself in one of the room's mirrors, hair turned a bright Candian purple.

"Yeah," Saccharina says with a wide smile. "She is! It's really cool! I've never had anyone comfortable enough around me who cared me enough to do pranks without me being the target!"

Theo, not knowing how to respond to that, is incredibly thankful for the sixth prank of the day: an explosion of scraps of paper that covers every inch of the room. The paper seems to be mostly made up of old letters from the other nations. They're important, and them being destroyed is terrible, and they will have words about it later, but he can't bring himself to mind too much right now.

Because with all the paper everywhere, he sees the little breeze she makes in her escape, and the direction she runs in after.

---

If he chases after her now, he'll lose her, and who knows if he'll ever get another lucky break like that again. So he waits. Endures waking up covered in Fructeran vino, deals with diplomats' outrage at not being greeted by the Imperial Princess herself, keeps checking secret passages in entirely different parts of the castle just to throw her off the trail. He doesn't say anything to anyone about it, because he's not especially good at deception.

The final prank: a veritable army of chocolate frogs released while Saccharina holds court. It explains why she's been holding back laughter the entire time, but that's a problem for later. For now, he sprints across the room, vaulting over one of the Tartguard, and heads in the direction he'd seen her run before.

There's a few secret passageways this way, but he's checked those. When he reaches a dead end, he looks around, thinks--casts knock on the wall. Sure enough, it pushes open, and on the other side is Ruby Rocks, mouth open in shock.

"Ruby!" Theo calls.

"Damn it," she says. "How'd you even--it doesn't matter."

"You have many things to apologize for, your Imperial Highness," Theo says, walking over to try and pick her up and carry her back to the throne room. She could escape, probably, but it's at least a start.

"That's not true!" Ruby says. "I've been helping a ton of people."

"What, people who needed specifically left shoes? Annabelle secretly asked you to dye her hair purple?" Ruby snorts. "See! Come on, Princess."

"No, seriously," Ruby says. "Look, I did this because it's funny, but it's bringing the mood up around here! Morale!"

Theo blinks at her. "What? Stealing people's things? Ruining their day?"

"Pranks," Ruby says with a nod. "Look. Pay attention to the way people are acting and talking about all of it. I'll be back here in a few hours if you still wanna try and get me grounded."

"Your sister's not going to ground you," Theo says, and Ruby grins up at him.

It's definitely a trick. He's fallen for similar tricks before. He shouldn't this time.

"If you're not back here," Theo says, and Ruby laughs, half-tackles him in a hug, runs past him, and jumps out a window. He doesn't hear a thud or yelp of pain, so he assumes it's probably fine.

He hadn't even thought to check outside, had he? Hopefully, she'll keep her word and he won't have to. Not much else to do now that she's already escaped.

---

When he walks back to the throne room, Saccharina's holding a chocolate frog with a look of fascination and disgust, Primsy's already got one in a box that she's attempting to feed sugar-grass, and Liam is visibly holding himself back from target practice, hands twitching towards his crossbow.

"I must say," he overhears one of the Tartguard say as he takes his place by Saccharina's left side. (Gooey's at the right, still. Had very, very easily won that argument.) "While these pranks are quite improper, you can't deny they're incredibly humorous!"

"Good sir!" says another Tartguard, and one of the marauders behind him rolls her eyes, but has a smile on her face too. "I have to say, I agree. It was nice to have a bit of liveliness around here!"

One of the Fructeran diplomats is upset, but soothed easily after his partner reminds him that he can tell this story before the Imperial Court, always so focused on adventures. The Dairy Islanders seem more excited to avoid courtly talk than anything. One Meatlander is holding a chocolate frog with a look that can only be described as adoring, even as it shits in his hand.

All-in-all, the atmosphere of the room is rather...jovial. Not at all like the quiet mournfulness of the first week of their reign. There's still the holes in some of the walls from their siege, and there's still the palpable loss of the chancellor and the princess, but people seem happy. People are laughing.

When he goes back to the secret passageway--opened apparently by twisting a statue of Sapphria so that she's facing the window--Ruby's there, shifting on her feet.

"You do have to return the shoes," Theo says, and Ruby's shoulders slump. "But--"

"Yes!" Ruby says. "I knew you'd get it. Well, I hoped you'd get it. Gooey's mellowed you out."

"I--that's--we're not talking about Gooey," Theo blusters. "The shoes need to go back."

Ruby snorts. "I did that so we'd get new shoes. Dad told me all about trench foot."

"What?" Theo says. "That's not even a little bit of an appropriate topic for conversation. Especially at court. If you'd just go to your lessons--"

"I don't even have lessons here," Ruby says, and he's so distracted by responding to that with an emphatic 'you should' that he doesn't notice the tray of whipped cream until it's already in his face.

"Bye, Theo!" Ruby calls, already dashing away from him.

He sighs. "Bye, Ruby."

[danco110]

“C-Captain Olgimsky!” cried one of the truant guards. “We were just, ah, on our break. I swear! Right, Marnahan?”

The second guard saluted dutifully. “That’s one hundred percent correct, sir. Never fear, though. We’ll be back at our post…posthaste.”

The grizzled captain of the guard scowled at his men. “You two are useless. Get out of my sight! I’ll take the watch myself.”

Marnahan tilted his head. “On your own, sir? Are you sure? We could still keep watch, now that you’ve caught us.”

“Yeah,” chimed the other guard. “Or we could at least…shoot the breeze with you?”

One moment, Olgimsky was glaring at his subordinates. The next, a ferocious werewolf stood down the two grunts. The beast howled at the soldiers, who turned around and sprinted away in response.

“Fine!” Marnahan shouted over his shoulder. “Forget we asked!”

The werewolf snorted dismissively and turned to scan the horizon for threats.

[tcm]

Facts About the Falcon By Kim Luperi

Murder mysteries + suave sleuths + a splash of sardonic humor = the perfect formula for many a B-movie series of the 1930s and 1940s. RKO got in the action with the popular Saint series and Falcon movies, which shared conspicuously comparable premises, similar characters and even the same lead actor for a time: George Sanders.

RKO produced 13 Falcon films from 1941-1946 based on a character created by Michael Arlen in his 1940 Town & Country story “The Gay Falcon.” In RKO’s adaptation, the debonair and enigmatic amateur adventurer/detective Gay Lawrence (Sanders), and later Tom Lawrence (Tom Conway), frequently found themselves recruited by a beautiful woman to take on a case in whatever locale they happened to be in – a college campus, the Wild West, Mexico or even Hollywood. Murder, of course, would follow posthaste.

Alongside the titular character, the Falcon films benefited in the comedy arena from an array of character actors (Allen Jenkins, Edward Brophy), in the intrigue department from actresses on the rise (Barbara Hale, Jane Greer) and by the darkly stylistic ambiance infused from future famous directors (Edward Dmytryk, Joseph H. Lewis). In honor of TCM’s daylong salute to these fun flicks, here’s some captivating behind-the-scenes facts about the Falcon – all three characters! (More on that below.)

The Falcon: The Saint 2.0?

In 1939, Sanders kicked off his sophisticated sleuth stint in the popular Saint series. Based on author Leslie Charteris’ character Simon Templar, the Saint’s run came to an end at RKO in 1941. A 1942 Chicago Daily Tribune article reported that Sanders finally “wriggled” out of his Saint commitment because he disliked playing the same role over and over – only to hop, well, into the exact same situation in the Falcon series that same year, 1941. Sanders was as nonchalant in altering dispositions between the two franchises as his Falcon was imperturbable in his crime solving. Indeed, as observed in William H. Young and Nancy K. Young’s book World War II and the Postwar Years in America, “only the most dedicated fan could distinguish Sanders’ Saint from Sanders’ Falcon.”

The likeness was not lost on Charteris. Per Ron Backer’s book Mystery Movie Series of 1940s Hollywood, many theories abound for RKO’s abandonment of the Saint series, including Charteris’ financial demands. But in the end, the studio hit the mystery movie sweet spot with Arlen’s Falcon, and they paid much less for it. As a result, Charteris filed a $100,000 lawsuit against RKO citing infringement and unfair competition, arguing that “in the public’s mind ‘Falcon’ is really the ‘Saint.’” (I mean, having such comparable characters played by the same actor was a ballsy move!) Few details are available on the case, though Charteris alleged that he negotiated a sizable settlement with RKO.

Brotherly Bonds

Beloved serial heroes were frequently replaced by another actor with no explanation. The Falcon series transitioned leads too, but not in the exact same role – and the handing of the baton was unusually explicit. After three Falcon films, Sanders wanted out of the B-movie detective cycle (again). “I feel it’s about time I had something really adult and intelligent to do in pictures,” a 1943 Picturegoer article quoted him as saying; he even requested that some of his starring roles be downsized, such as his fourth and final Falcon movie, THE FALCON’S BROTHER (’42).

In this aptly titled picture, Sanders co-starred alongside his real-life sibling, Tom Conway, who portrayed his brother onscreen. With Sanders’ character injured for most of the runtime and dying in the film’s final moments, Conway slyly emerged as the new Falcon. “Quite a stunt is being essayed by R.K.O.” in having Conway take over, The Los Angeles Times reported. Though technically portraying Gay Lawrence’s brother, Conway assumed the Falcon’s persona – sophistication, flirtation and all. As opposed to his brother, Conway welcomed the series’ regularity, referring to the Falcon as a “breather” from the darker characters he usually embodied in a 1943 interview with Hollywood magazine.

The Third Falcon

While some sources tally 13 Falcon films, others record a total of 16, with the final three movies starring actor/magician John Calvert from 1948-1949. Not only do these “Falcon”-less titles boast a different star, but the character is based on a completely different Falcon series by Drexel Drake, starting with his 1936 novel The Falcon’s Prey, which pre-dated Arlen’s story. This Falcon is a magician named Michael Waring who has a pooch for an assistant!

Drake’s Falcon hit the airwaves in his own radio series in 1943, right in the midst of the Sanders-Conway film franchise. To make matters even more confusing, the producers of the radio show purported that their Falcon was indeed the same hero who appeared in the movies – except it wasn’t, because the characters were created by two different people. Now, how’s that for a mystery?!

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RANDOM +  BYAKURAN :  97- bringing your faces close without touching and feeling each other breath...

ღ꧁ღ╭⊱ꕥ The lingering light was obliterated by the posthaste falling duskiness. Once salmon & lavender firmament mutated into an immense expanse of jet-black that submerged the palace. A canopy of luminous stars metamorphosed amongst the ebony mare. Some were tedious, merely flickering into existence every now & then, but there was an adequate amount of shimmering pulsars to illuminate the cryptic, moonless night. The eerie darkness of that evening would never escape her memory. The crimson layers of the silk gown slipped onto her shoulders, peppering her frame with delicate, sensuous caresses. Like a lover, it captivated senses & conveyed with utmost talent the art of pleasing. Once prepared, the vampiress directed herself to her manor's facade, to salute aristocratic guests, vampires from noble families.

Ai didn't know how long she had been there, beaming, bowing, striving to follow the decorum & what had been agreed in the council's appointment for that gathering. She was trying not to break anything that had been ascertained. Finally, her last guests appeared! Two vampires with an air of preponderance, scanning for imperfections to point out, & who adored denigrating humans. Two siblings who were obviously against her paragons. Princess abhorred such creatures. With etiquette, both inclined. ❝We're charmed that you're obeying the edicts.❞ Blonde with sapphirine optics & visible fangs uttered, beholding the properly magnified garden, exhibiting its indulgence, refined sophistication. ❝But of course ————❞ Words halted abruptly when she saw & sensed a very familiar human presence approaching the facade. Burgundy hues enlarged immediately, for a few seconds the brunette was petrified, not knowing what to answer, how to behave. A bad augury! Byakuran's appearance was going to contrive chaos. ❝Ara ———— I presumed it was unequivocal in the document that no one will tolerate mortals.❞ Maturer vampire with cerise locks & jade orbs articulated, patting her palm on her forehead. Without faltering, Ai took a step forward, settling her silhouette in front of him, as if she wanted to defend Byakuran from a menace.

❝He's not here for the gathering.❞ Announced in an antagonistic timbre, hues changing to a fiery vermillion, inferno within a petite sphere, formerly passive & sympathetic. ❝Don't lie to us, you chose to bring nourishment, how condescending of you, Ai-sama. A handsome and charming gentleman.❞ Blonde took two steps forward & on impetus, the pure-blood grabbed his wrist. ❝He's not nourishment, bitch. Once I apprehend my position on the cathedra you'll perish, you'll be incinerated alive right in front of me.❞ Hostile, ominous, malignant timbre & imperious aura oozing from her comely silhouette. Without adding anything else, she pulls him by the wrist & starts running towards the back door. ❝What are you doing here? How did you discover me?❞ Asked. Sisters incensed by the unpleasant words were pursuing them.

❝It doesn't matter, we need to hide. This is perilous, you can't presume how much.❞ Upon entering the dwelling, a place now full of vampires, some innocuous others not, Ai goes with him to one of the central aisles on the first floor. ❝I need to deceive them.❞ Nimbly draculina takes off both shoes & conceals them behind amphorae to try to confuse their olfactory system, which was going to be defying since Byakuran's redolence was already inside. Probably other immortals already knew about his propinquity. ❝Now————❞ Palm pulsates & opens a little entry. ❝We'll hide here.❞ Maiden propelled him into the tight, petite storage compartment. After entering, she closed the entrance. The only small fount of light was minor fissures & fractures in the door. Ai had to press his contour against the wall to be comfortable in that cryptic, confined spot. ❝For now, don't utter a single syllable.❞ Susurrate, cherry lips close to his tepid neck, exhalation caressing his dermis benevolently. Peculiar intimacy coaxed by an abrupt occurrence. Gradually his perfume was merging with her rose fragrance, conceiving a unique aroma. Spring and winter in a single amalgamation. The sisters' hysteria was audible outside, attempting to decipher their location. Sensing their presence extremely adjacent to the door, the moraine shut her optics & used her telekinetic endowments to slam her room's door on the second floor. Finally, they departed, following the sonance made previously. ❝I hope you have a good explanation, Byakuran-san.❞ Velvety margins uttered, quite near his countenance, carmine irises mineralized in his lilac ones, waiting peacefully for an answer. First rule imposed at the assemblage had been broken...

                         Hypnotic taking over me.