#sharpener melk

[incorrect-toriko-quotes]

Melk II: What’s a queen without her king? Well, historically speaking, more powerful.

[amberswords]

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

YOU KNOW THE DRILL

🗡 DANG MELK /FIVE!?!?!?/ u lil rascal 😳😳 HDHDJ Thank you!! I'm doing these for my main three lil lads

🌙 Jotaro is the last one to join the relationship— He didn't realize Eddie and Noriaki were dating during the Egypt trip despite the pretty clear signs of their romance. Noriaki and Eddie had been crushing on him p much since the beginning.

🌙 Following that last one— Eddie and Nori actually got together because of their mutual attraction to Jotaro, teasing each other about it until it slowly morphed into awkward, poorly disguised flirting between the two of them.

🌙 Noriaki loves proving her physical worth, but that's mainly for Eddie— something something lesbian hierarchy. She needs to prove her strength to the softest femme of the group, while Jotaro as the butch proves his strength to both of them whenever possible. It's actually quite endearing to watch them try to out-shine each other by accident.

🌙 Brrrr God butch jotaro living in my head rent free. He's so effortlessly masculine and self-assured when he's simply lounging. One possessive arm around the back of each of his femmes plus his resting bitch face make him look intimidating and strong and so darn hot. He is so handsome and great actually

🌙 Noriaki runs very cold! She freezes so easily, meanwhile Eddie and Jotaro run extremely hot very often, which makes the sleeping arrangements a bit complicated with all the blankets needed or thrown out of bed at the worst times.

Send 🌙 for some headcanons!

[marblesarelost]

Odds and ends - Mikaren

   (This is a piece that's set in my world, but it's...it's supposed to be in Kyumin, but I'm not sure that's where it'll actually be. It might be somewhere else. Needs polish, a plot would be nice, and needs caught up to what I have of the world now.)           

  The sleet was thick, not quite ice, nor quite snow, and the streets of Kyumin were deserted, at least they were in this part of the city.  The cobbles were uneven here, and plenty were missing, leaving muddy, slick holes in the street as she made her way down it, her ghra-skin cloak shedding most of the weather.  Most.  Not all.

                The noise from The Heart’s Bite could be heard from several doors down in either direction, and she paused under the overhang of Melk’s Pawn Shoppe, breathing slowly and deeply, closing her eyes as she envisioned her goal, and said one final prayer to Selin, the War Twins; guide my hands.  Let me die on my feet.  But let me see him fall first.

                She came through the door with naked steel in both hands, though she used the pommel of her gladius to knock between the bouncer’s eyes rather than kill him, rolling through the motion and throwing the knife in her off hand to catch the other bouncer, the one by the fire, off guard and now scrabbling for the blade in his throat.  She jumped, flatfooted, to the top of the bar and then behind it, her glare more than enough to have the bartender raise his hands at the point of her blade to his throat.  “Where is he?”  She growled.  “Where is Ophel?”

                “In.  In the back.”

                “Someone go tell him that his past has caught up to him,” she snapped.  “Do it.”  She pulled back the cloak to show the starburst bomb she wore on her belt, its glow an eldritch red in the dim light.  “Stay back from me, else I’ll set it off.”  It had cost her, oh, how it had cost her, three years in service to Alphien, the Feyrie Mage; but he had kept his word.  “I don’t mind dying today, kiefblood, go get him!”  She shouted, keeping her back to the wall, her face half turned to the half-kief at the point of her blade, half to the dregs of humanity and the kiefkin beyond the bar, watching for sudden moves.  One against twelve.  She’d seen worse odds.  She’d seen better, too.  “It’s set to a word, all I needs do is say a single word, and we all go up!  I don’t want to take all of you with me, but I damn well will!”  One finally broke, finally, running for the doorway on the far side of the room.  Heavy footsteps, grunting, snorting from beyond that doorway, before he broke the plane and came into her sight.  His tusks, like himself, were filthy, but stone sharpened, she knew.  “Illytch,” he grunted, his bulk filling the doorway, he had to bend his head to come through it.  “What want?”

                “You dead,” she snapped, and he snorted.

                “You not first to try,” he shrugged.  “Ophel lives.”

                “Tonight that changes,” she said with a grim smile.  “You and I, Ophel, one on one, right here, right now.  Your men interfere, we all go up.”

                “How I know you don’t set it off if you lose?”  He asked, and she shrugged.

                “You don’t.  But it’s a starburst, Ophel.  Starbursts are set to the beat of their bearer’s heart.  My heart stops, the star goes out.”

                He snorted again, shook his shaggy head, vermin flying from his hair, she could see it.  Hell, she could smell it, even ten feet away.  “What I do to you, killer?  Your face is strange to me.”

                “It wasn’t me, Ophel.  It was my brother.  You killed my brother.”  She let her cloak fall from her back, glanced at the bartender.  “Don’t you dare interfere,” she hissed, and his hands rose a little higher.  Ophel grunted, then gave his men an order.

                “Don’t touch her.  She’s kin-mad.  I’ll kill her, and then we’ll cut her hands off, so the Twins won’t take her.”

                “If you can kill me, then I don’t deserve to stand before them,” she replied, sliding her best dagger from its sheath and coming out from around the bar, instantly dropping into spider stance, feet wide, knees bent, ass back, steel high.  She expected him to rush her, and she wasn’t disappointed; almost as soon as she cleared the bar, he came at her, big fists swinging.  She ducked the punch, whirled behind him, and slashed at his hamstring; she missed it, but her dagger bit deep into his thigh, anyway, as she danced away, changing from spider to fox stance, one foot in the air, knee bent, sword wide, dagger close.  He turned, his flat nostrils flaring as he reached down to the wound, sneered at her as he licked his hand. 

                Now he drew steel.  A long knife, not quite a short sword, and the battle was on in earnest.  He pressed his size and strength advantage, and he was indeed larger and stronger than she; but she had better discipline, better training, was quicker and more agile.  He would punch, and she would be already slipped away, or only caught a glancing blow rather than the strength of his fist.  He would slash, and she would parry, and slash herself with one of her own blades.  Long before it was over, he was breathing heavily, and though both were bleeding, her blades had left more marks.

                Finally, he charged, and she had had enough; she dropped to her knees and drove her sword straight up through his belly, like a pikeman downs a chevalier’s horse.  She twisted the blade as he rained blows down upon her head, making her ears ring; long years of training made instinct had her block his long blade with her dagger, even as she ripped up with her gladius, the stench of gutjuices filling the room as she did so.  That was a killing blow for most everyone, and she knew it, and so did he. 

He fell forward, but she rose up, pushing back his horribly heavy body with one hand, letting her legs do the work; he tottered, blinking, on his feet as she jerked her sword out of his belly, then fell forward again, on his knees.  “You ‘venged, stranger,” he muttered, both hands clutching his gut.  “You ‘venged.”

                “So I am,” she said, stepping backward and glancing over her shoulder.  The other kief were watching, most with mouths agape.  “Give you this, Ophel, you die well.”  She backed up another step, then turned and dashed from the inn, out into the sleet and cold, letting it wash over her.  The CryWatch wouldn’t be out in this, not in this neighborhood, so she left her steel out for a few blocks, easy loping down the streets until she reached the hire barn.  She took shelter under the hayroof for a quick moment, wiping the blood from her sword and dagger before sheathing them again, and walking on now rather than running, headed for the rooms she’d rented a few weeks before.

                There, she sank onto the cot and let herself shake, with cold and with adrenaline crashing out of her veins.  “You’re ‘venged, Deacon,” she muttered to herself.  “You’re ‘venged.”  Reaching under the cot, she found the jar of Dalvish wine she’d carried for oh so long, and cracked the seal.  A long moment she sat there, thinking of Deacon, of his laughter and his anger, of his blade flashing in the sun beside her own.  She lifted the jar.  “Rest well now, brother.”  She drank deeply, not letting even a drop of the sweet crimson-purple wine fall; it was too good and too dear to waste, and Deacon would have had her head if she’d poured any out for his shade.  Besides, she had had other jars of wine, none so dear, that she’d used for that.

                When the wine was gone, she was a bit light-headed, but that was all.  She laid across the cot, her back propped up by the wall.  She’d killed Ophel.  It had taken her years, but she’d done it.  The question truly was, now what?  What did she do now that she had no purpose?

                She had no answers when she woke the next morning, either, and it was the wrong season to hire out to guard trade caravans; no merchant in his right mind would be leaving Kyumin until after false spring, so the smartest thing for her to do would be to hunker down here until then.  She considered changing flops to somewhere a few steps higher class than Kiefhold; it was damnably close to a rookery, honestly, and she could afford it…she thought.  In the end, she decided to stay where she was.  She’d just not show her face more than necessary, not that that would be hard; the cold had come to stay, and most folk walked round with a scarf covering half their face right now.  She’d move to Shiller’s Quarter come false spring, and put her ear out for traders.

                So passed a few weeks, not quite to MidWinter, when one morning found her bored right out of her mind, and perhaps she fell asleep; she had been sleeping more often than not lately, as it kept her warm, anyway.  But a noise startled her, a noise out in the hall, and she came up from her seat by the window, dagger in hand as her sword was under her mattress.  Then someone tapped her door gently, once, twice.  She had to clear her throat before she could answer.

                “Who goes?”

                “Ah…” whoever it was whispered to others in Kief; she caught a few words, “lady,” and “speak,” and “flop,” but not much more before a male voice called out.

                “Would speak with you, lady of blades; speak only, word to the Twins and to the Night-Shod on it,” they called.  She frowned; the Night-Shod was the lord of thieves and assassins, but those who swore by him normally didn’t break their word outright.  She rose from her seat and took the few steps to the door, pulling the latch before backing toward the bed and slipping her hand between the corntick mattress and the ropes, pulling her gladius out from under it.

                “Come then, and so long as your blade stays sheathed, so then shall mine, by the Twins,” she agreed.  The door opened, and one of the largest godsdamned Kief ever she’d seen stood in it, blocking it up until he came into the room, looking round and moving out of the way so his friends could come in as well.  One more was full-blood Kief, with the flat nose and full tusks, but the third was half-blood at best, his tusks smaller, his nose more like to hers or a Feyrie’s, and his skin mayhap less greasy than the Kief.  None of the three wore steel on their belt, though any could have anything hidden up their sleeve or down their trousers, and besides, she knew full well how easy Kief could kill with their bare hands.  The big one and the half-blood looked to the one who’d come in second; he had pale yellow skin with gray undertones, whereas both of them were tinted more green than gray.

                “Lady of blades,” he said haltingly.  “Give you good afterbells.”

                “Good afterbells to you,” she said fairly.  “Shut the door, fella; let’s not let all the heat out, aye?”

                “Will if I can, lady,” the third said, shoving his friend over a bit as he did so.  “Sorry; is a small room for Kief and kin.”

                “It’s a small room for Mellon, too,” she said, a smirk running away from her face.  “But it’s what a simple sellsword can afford, fellas.”

                “Right.”  The yellow Kief’s tongue came out, wet his lips, and he seemed the most nervous of the three.  “Pardon I ask afore I come to the point; my Mellon ain’t that good, lady, an’ none of what I say means any offense.”

                “Would trade-tongue be easier?  ‘Cause I don’t speak Kief, fella, not well,” she offered, and he nodded fervently before speaking in trade-tongue.

                “Aye that, lady, that I’m right good in,” he agreed.  “May we sit?”

                “If you can find a spot, surely,” she agreed.  This was very, very strange; but maybe they had a job for a sellsword.  Again, this was damnably close to a rookery.  The three found spots to sort of perch, the yellow one taking the only chair in the room and pulling it closer to the bed.

                “Lady of blades,” he began, and looked down at his hands, clasped afore him, before catching her gaze again.  “Don’t know what you know of Kief an’ Kiefkin, Lady, nor our customs.”

                “Not much, to be honest.”  Her damn curiosity had her now.  “What is it, lad, don’t trip over your tongue.”

                “Na.  Lady, you are who killed Ophel in fair combat,” he said.  “That word’s spread throughout all of Ophel’s sworn-folks.”

                “Killed another who had naught to do with anything, and for that I’ll pay honor-price if I can, but I owe nobody nothing for Ophel,” she said.  “That was fair and true, he killed my brother, killed my brother for naught at all, just that he was praying alms in the wrong place.  I got that true from the Priest of the Twins in Macallen, when I collected his armor.”

                “Don’t know; don’t know aught on that, my word to the Twins an’ the Night-Shod, lady, I didn’t join Ophel’s sworn until well after he’d come here,” the yellow Kief said.  “But here lies the rub; according to Kief and Kiefkin custom, you defeated him square and true, fair combat, no tricks and no backstabbing.  That makes --“ he frowned, his bottom lip rising, his tusks quivering as he thought.  “That makes our swears to him go to you, lady, and that’s honest.  You’re our Chieftain now.  That’s not just -- not just Kief custom, lady, but Night-Shod as well.  So we come to collect you, lady, an’ take you someplace better than this; to hear your orders and obey them.”  He made some sort of signal, and slid from the chair to kneel before her as the other two did the same, all three of them looking up at her like she was some sort of Dacha or Pacha or Princess.  “Command us, Blade-Lady.”

                She blinked.  She couldn’t help it.  “Get up, get up,” she said roughly.  “I ain’t a queen, fellas.  Get up.”  Once they had, it was her turn to wet her lips as she tried to think.  “Chieftain?  Cause I killed a fella?”

                “It’s the custom,” the yellow Kief said, shrugging.  “Ain’t the first Mellon to do it, won’t be the last.”

                “And ain’t an ambush, then?  Nobody lying in wait to shove a dagger in my back?”

                “By the Twins, lady,” he nodded.  “You won.  You won fair.  No tricks, no slipperies, no blinding, all just steel and fist.  Makes you our chief.”

                “Night-Shod said so,” the half-Kief said, his voice high, thin and reedy.  “Night-Shod spoke to Vellash, Vellash Night-Shod Speaker.  Vellash say, go get the bladewoman, here where she be; she hide, hide good, but catch her before the caravans start running, else you’ll never catch her more.”

                She sat back, took a deep breath.  Well.  This changed things, din’t it?  “Where you call better than this?  Ain’t no leaks, ain’t no bugs.”

                “We cleaned up the Heart’s Bite,” the yellow Kief said.  “Cleaned it good, lady, with lye soap and hot water.  It’s warm, no leaks, we’ll get andelo candles to keep out bugs do you want it.  Got tribute, got men an’ women, many as all our fingers and toes together, come to swear to you.  Not all Kief or Kiefkin, some Mellon, a couple Feyrie-blooded.  Damn good Night-Shod folk, lady, but got no orders, yeah?  Need a chief to give us orders.  Need a chief to talk to the Dusk Guild, we ain’t in the Dusk Guild.  Ophel kept his nose away from them, had a bargain with’em just to work in KiefHold and Duster’s Corners, but ain’t no good, lady, ain’t hardly no money there.  Him, he was askeert of the Dusk Guild, askeert to try to bargain with’em any further.”

                “You think I ain’t?”  She asked, shaking her head.  “Only a fool crosses the Dusk Guild in any city, fella.”

                “Ain’t got to cross’em; just to make a deal.  We got damn good Night-Shod, lady, and more, we got good sellswords, sworn to the Twins and Night-Shod both.  Maybe not as good as you.  You’re grand.  But good ‘nough to hire out to Merc Hall maybe, guard folk on the straight and on the crooked both.  Ain’t fair that we get smashed here into KiefHold and Duster’s Corners, when we could be sliding up into Shiller’s Quarters and maybe even higher.”

                She sat thinking for another moment before she heard Deacon’s soft chuckle in the back of her head.  You set them free, sister.  Set me free.  Now you got to take responsibility for what you freed.  She squared her shoulders, nodding once.  “What’s your names, fellas?”

                “I’m Levi,” the yellow one said.  “Filip is by the window, Irvil over there.”

                “Right.  You got wine at the Heart’s Bite, Levi?”  Fangs showed as the Kief smiled.

                “Got wine, lady; you like Andalusian Red?”

                “Now you’re talkin’ my language.  Lead on.”

                Once at the Heart’s Bite, they stopped just long enough at the bar proper for the bartender, same one she’d had her sword point to his throat, to pour a jug of Andalusian Red.  She frowned, seeing him, and spoke.  “My sorrow on that, fella,” she said, shaking her head.  “I meant no harm to none in here but Ophel.”

                “Hazard of business in KiefHold, lady,” he shrugged.  “Truth, you coulda come in an’ just set off that starburst an’ kilt us all.  As it was, you only kilt Ophel an’ Mek, an’ Mek wasn’t worth a damn noway.”

                “Still,” she pressed.  “Accept my apology, friend.”

                “Ah gods and demons, an honor bound,” he sighed, but bumped his fist to hers.  “You’re my Chief now; I accept your sorrow and grant your pardon, Lady.”

                “Good.”  She reached for her purse, and he frowned.

                “No call; you’re the boss.”

                “Boss or no, this time you’ll take the silver, friend.  For yourself.”  The jug of wine would cost three silver at any other inn in KiefHold; she laid out five.  “Call it pride price.”

                “As the Chieftain wishes,” he inclined his head and made the silver disappear, and she followed Levi past the doorway.  It was cleaner, certain sure, and the candles burning didn’t stink of rancid tallow.  She could smell fish and greens and fried beef from the kitchen as they passed by it, back to a thick oak door that was slightly, just slightly, ajar.  Levi opened it for her, and stepping inside she saw a worktable and chair, fresh parchment and an inkpot neatly to one side, along with graphstick, a lantern burning low to the other side.  A great bearskin hung in the middle of the room; it must have been scented with alav flower, for that was what she smelled as she brushed past it.  Beyond it was a good sized cot, with muslin sheets and woven blankets.  Four chests were stacked two by two at its foot, four keys laid out on the cot.

                “What’s this, then?”  She asked, pulling back the bearskin.

                “You inherit,” Levi told her, inclining his head.  “All that Ophel had, blade-lady, now stands as yours.”  Slowly, she nodded.

                “Bring those out here.  We’ll open them together.  Ah -- Irvil.  Turn the lamp up.”  The chests were heavy; she watched the cords come out on Levi’s neck as he hefted the first, though Filip didn’t have any problems with his.  “Two at a time, I guess.”  She gathered the keys, brought them out to try them; she lifted the first lid and had to blink, pulling back at the shine as gold and silver coins glittered up at her.  “Twins’ BLADES,” she muttered, dipping a hand in and running her fingers through the money.  “It’s real?”  She brought out a golden kroner, flicked the edge with her finger; the song of the enchanted coin hummed up at her.  “It’s real.”

                “Night-Shod blessed you,” Levi said, and she shook her head, though her eyes stayed fixed on the treasure.

                “Na.  Na, this -- this is too much for an old sellsword, gents.  Let’s see the rest, then we’ll decide what to do.”  The second chest held papers, papers that didn’t make much sense to her, to be fair.  Not until Levi explained.

                “Debts.  Folk put their hand to it, they’re bound to pay.  That’s likesome to be how he had the chest so full.”  The third chest held gems and jewelry, gold and silver and even copper set, pearls and cat’s eyes, firestone of all colors, moon’s milk and flame shell and only the Twins knew what else.  The fourth chest…the daggers and short swords, claws and wands, all reeking of magic or gem encrusted…

                “What would you, blade-lady?”  Filip asked, leaning against the door.

                “These,” she tapped the chest of weaponry, “these need a mage to look at them.  Make sure no evil magic taints them, to turn the blade on the bearer.  Can’t do much with them till then.”  She frowned at the cask of gems and jewelry.  “These need sold.  Gonna likely have to talk with the Dusk Guild, ‘cause I don’t know who else to sell’em to.  Pro’lly talk to Dusk Guild about hiring one of their mages to go through those, too.”  Now she turned her attention to the debts.  “These…these folk don’t owe me.  They owed Ophel, not me.  Gotta go through an’ get names, send out word.  But this,” she laid her hand on the chest of coin, “this we gotta count.  And then we’ll see what happens.”

                All told, by the time the money was counted, she was rich.  Rich beyond her wildest imaginings, rich enough to buy ten trained warhorses, to buy a house in at least Shiller’s Quarter and possibly higher.  But that wasn’t what she wanted; what would she do with a fine house?  A trained warhorse, well, that was a thought, one she would keep close.  But any more than that?  She didn’t know what to do with the hoard.

                You’re responsible, Deacon’s whisper came again, and she knew.  “Right then.  Get word out.  Everybody who’s to swear to me, get word out, get here, get here tonight if they can at all.  I’ve words to say.”

                The inn was full, plumb full, of men and women when she came out from the door, Filip before her with naked steel in his hand, Levi behind her.  She took the seat next to the fire, so’s they could see her face, as Levi spoke, first in Kief, then in trade tongue.

                “Here is the Blade-Lady, the one who defeated Ophel in true and fair combat.”  Almost as one, the group of folks made obeisance, some going to a knee, some tapping their heart, some drawing steel and turning the pommel to her, all of it depending on what room they had and likely who their gods were.  She surveyed them, looking to see if any were refusing her.  She rose from the seat and drew steel herself, turning the pommel to them with one hand, tapping her heart with the other.

                “Let me be your blade, let you be my people,” she said quietly.  “This is everyone?”

                “Aye, Blade-Lady,” Levi nodded beside her.  “This is all of us.”

                “Twin’s blades.”  There had to be forty, maybe fifty of them.  She sheathed her dagger and began to speak.  “Make yourselves comfortable, but not so comfortable you sleep.  I have ideas for you, and plans to make, and I’d have your thoughts on what I think; let us work together as Clan and make everyone have a full belly, yeah?”  Murmuring rose, but not of anger, but wonder, as they followed her orders and looked at her.

                “First, Levi says Ophel told Dusk Guild, hi now, we’ll stay over here, you leave us alone an’ we’ll leave you alone.  Which was fine for Ophel, I guess, ‘cause no fool deals with Dusk Guild wrong.  But I ain’t like to him.  Not at all.”  She nodded, and Levi gestured; Irvil came out with the chest of debts, open so everyone could see it.  “These are the notes of debt he kept; but not one of you nor any other owes me a damn copper.”  She took the chest and dumped its contents into the fire, the flame licking up and turning those chains of paper into red edged ash.  She stepped back, handing the chest back to Irvil.  “Them that need a loan come to me, we’ll do business, truth.  And you’ll pay interest, truth.  But right now, all debts to Ophel are clear.”

                “What of the street folk?”  Someone asked.  “What of them what owe us?  Or owed Ophel?”

                “Any and all debt to Ophel is canceled.  Debt to you is debt to you; I’ll ask a tithing, as your Chief, but nothing more.”  More murmuring, some smiles, some disbelief, and she went on.  “More, there’s the matter of the Dusk Guild.  We got to send word to them that Ophel ain’t in charge no more, and the one who is wants to renegotiate the terms.  I hear tell there’s Night-Shod and sellswords among you that are just as good as Dusk Guild, and it’s poor pickings you’ve had.  Gonna renegotiate that, talk us up to at least Shiller’s Quarter, gonna try for Merchant Row, but I doubt they give us that.   Gonna send word to Merc Hall, too, if any of you want to work merc.  Leave your name with Danik behind the bar if you do, or if you want to work bodyguard or security to mageries; I’ve some contacts there.”  She paused to take a drink of her wine, the sweet-sour taste filling her mouth.  “Questions so far?”

                The folks looked at one another, murmuring together for a few seconds, before one stood up, a big Kief, maybe as big as Filip.  “What do I owe you, Blade-Lady, if you can get me on the rolls at Merc Hall?”

                “First, I can’t promise you’ll get on the rolls; I’ve been Guild Merc, and I can tell you, you get it or not on your own merit,” she began.  “You’ll have to fight two to one, then fight in formation, then they’ll test how well you follow orders; that’s Merc Hall business, and I’ll go no further on it.  But I’ll tell you that if you get on the rolls, there’s things you can watch for for me.  You can watch to see who’s hiring where.  You can listen to rumor and truth about who’s at war with who.  And you bring that information to me, and maybe we’ll see what our Night-Shod can do with that information.”    She leaned back, picked up her cup again.  “They’ll ask, if you get on the rolls, who to send your things to, who to send your pay and your death-price to if you die in service.  If you got family, you give their names.  If you don’t, you give mine.  Wisa Coneth.  That’s what I’ll ask if you get on at Merc Hall.  That, and to remember your Clan here, and the poor of KiefHold.  Fair?”

                “More than, Mikaren.  More than.”  He nodded respectfully, and she looked up at Levi beside her.

                “What’s that?  Mikaren?”

                “Blade-lady.  In Kief.”

                “I like that,” she said lowly, and sat up again.  “Who’s next?”

                Now that they saw that she answered them fair, more stood, and she chose, one at a time, to hear and answer them.  Yes, she did plan on sending word to the Dusk Guild.  Far as she was concerned, Kyumin was an awful big city; Dusk Guild ought to be able to give them more than what they had now.  Yes, she did want to see them fight, but not here and now.  Restday was soon enough, and not to first blood, even, “cause why waste your kin’s blood?  Nah, wooden swords and staves only, just for spar, for me to see what you can do and where to send you.”  No, she didn’t have any ideas as to targets for Night-Shod work yet, but she was new to Kyumin; give her some little time.

                “And now we come to the good part,” she said, nodding at Filip.  He left the common room and came back a few minutes later, setting a chest down on the table beside her, and opened it, picking up a little purse and jingling it.  “Presents for my new folk.  Ophel had too much for my blood, and no one starves in my clan.  One for each, and the rest put back for hard times.”  A mixture of silver and coppers; no gold for several reasons, but each purse added up in weight to two Owls’ worth, more than most of these folk would have seen all at once in their lives.  Enough to handle rent and food for six months for one, or two for a family.  “I need time to learn Kyumin better.  Time to learn you all better,” she said in the stunned silence as folk opened the little purses and realized what she was doing.  “I take care of my own, but you’ve got to take care of each other, too.  Brothers and sisters and cousins in my clan, and nobody hungry in the Starving Time, nobody cold now.”  She waited for the reaction she was sure would come; somebody to accuse her of trying to buy them, somebody to throw her generosity in her face.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, the tall one who had asked about the Merc Guild stood, nostrils flaring, and raised his blade to her as they had in the swearing.  “Mikaren, Kama-tek.”

Levi beside her leaned in close.  “Blade-Lady, Clan-Mother,” he murmured.

She stood up and gestured as others, one by one, rose, saying the same words.  “Come here,” she invited, and he nodded, sliding his sword back into place and making his way carefully through the crowd to stand before her; he was as big as Filip, maybe broader in the shoulders.  “What’s your name, kinsman?”

“Acret,” he gave her, his bottom lip trembling just a hair, dark eyes gleaming, she thought with wet but wasn’t sure.

“Acret.”  She reached up, took him by the shoulders and pulled him down to her, kissing his forehead.  “Welcome to my clan.”  When he stood again, she reached up one finger to wipe the tear from his tusk, saw his eyes; she had him. 

[bookwormmedz]

Got any headcanons for Teppei or Melk II?

I really love fulfilling your requests! May I offer headcanons for both?! I think I have plenty! I hope you enjoy these!

Teppei

1) Finds it very taxing to put up his hair every morning. He, however, has so much hair that it gets in the way to it’s better for work to wear it up.

2) Sometimes can find his scars bothersome. The more he stares at them in the mirror, the stranger they look and it irks him a little.

3) Secretly heeds skincare and beauty advice from Sani. Because he’s a Saiseiya, he has love and concern for the preservation of ingredients but he can sometimes forget to nurture himself too. Realizing it was a problem, at some point he began to take care of himself more. 

4) Likes to go for drinks on his own. It’s one way for him to wind down and relax a little. He doesn’t take many breaks. 

5) He was once interested in colouring his hair to a darker tone, maybe brown. Decided against it because all he owns is green clothing and it probably wouldn’t suit it very well. 

6) Recently developed an interest in trinkets and jewellery. I think he would own a ring and pendant collection. He doesn’t get to wear the rings much because he wears gloves on the job. 

7) He finds beauty spots to be fascinating. He also appreciates features on others that stand out that maybe they may not like.

Melk II 

1) I feel like she likes styling her hair and attempting different hairstyles in her free time. She once got caught in the middle of one of these sessions by Melk I and was extremely embarrased. Since then, she tries to do these more discreetly. 

2) On that note, she also likes to dress up sometimes. Since she is so skilled at crafting knives, it kind of followed onto sewing and other craft related skills. She makes her own clothes and gets really excited whenever she purchases and finds new materials to work with. 

3) She spends her free time in quiet introspection, looking to focus her mind and sharpen her craft by visualizing the process and outcome of a perfect blade. 

4) She finds that when she leaves small work unfinished, she has very strange and obscure dreams. After she wakes from them she usually goes to finish the work, even if it is in the dead of night. 

5) Melk II loves to indulge in long baths after an arduous day of work. She values and cherishes this time of relaxation. She tries her best to not spend too much time in there since she once feel asleep and when she woke up it was morning! 

6) Goes for walks in the nearby forestry in the early morning. This helps to wake her up and freshen her mind. Enjoys the sounds of nature and breathing in the clear air. 

7) Developed a recent interest in expressive dance though she would dare not tell anyone! How cute!

[windmill-ghost]

I know it doesn't make much sense because of canon, but I love the idea of trans girl Melk II. She's out the closet until she has to take her father's place, and goes into the closet again, pretending to be a man to be more like her father, but komatsu makes her realize... she doesn't need to pretend. She's a wonderful woman and sharpener and both are okay. I don't know I just wanted to share it with someone cool haha...

Honestly, I think this fits with canon just fine! And also this is really good.

I made a trans Melk post a while ago but I think I deleted it… the whole “I can never live up to who I want to be because my body is ‘female’” thing hit way to close to home, haha…

[topfygad]

Grafenegg, Austria: Castle & Live performance Working day Excursion From Vienna

Grafenegg. For a clean air of sophistication during a day trip from Vienna, head for Schloss Grafenegg. As a child I could not get ample of the castle’s magical Xmas marketplaces. Later on on, my daughter and I appreciated Grafenegg’s spectacular condition rooms and a garden picnic in two of its deck chairs, on our way to Wachau Valley. And most recently, I took a buddy for a classical summer season concert for the duration of Grafenegg’s once-a-year Summer months Competition. Uncover out what you could see and do there.

Viewing Schloss Grafenegg

At barely an hour’s generate from Vienna, the castle and compounds dating from the 15th century prolong in one particular of Austria’s loveliest wine locations: the Kamptal. Outfitted with turrets, towers and a moat, Grafenegg can make a correct fairy tale castle. Even much more so when you place the founding Bräuner family’s Medieval-design and style coat of arms, and the stone-carved animals and figures leaping out of the North side’s façade.

The moment you enter by way of the gate, the main tower, a splendid open staircase, a wood gallery and neat rows of painted home windows produce an immaculate historic courtyard. Offered how devastated Grafenegg was following Environment War II and the Russian occupation the Metternich-Sandor family, who currently owns Grafenegg, did a perfect renovation career.

As a make a difference of reality, the motive Grafenegg appears to be like a little bit English is the Tudor Gothic type that Britain admirer and owner Duke Bräuner was so fond of when he experienced it constructed in the mid 19th century.

Inside of, the pretty tale carries on with a proper knights’ corridor, a chapel, a library and quite a few lovely rooms. Most striking are the fantastically carved picket ‘hammer beam’ ceilings. Like with the outer façade, sharpen your eye for the lots of figurines you will discover in the ceiling corners of some rooms. On a person of the ceilings you will discover extra than 100 coats of arms of Duchess Bräuner.

One more spectacular element are the primary tiled stoves from the 19th century that have been warming most of the rooms for the duration of the Kamptal’s icy winters. As you enter the knights’ hall, observe out for the partitions coated in gold-pressed leather-based that miraculously survived and now regained their previous glory. In the library you will come across a couple open up antique textbooks that includes awesome paintings and drawings.

Grafenegg’s Gardens

About the castle you can promenade throughout a intimate park covering the measurement of 45 soccer fields. Substantially like in suitable English-design and style castle grounds, informal teams of tree giants alternate with wild flower beds though pathways meander throughout lawns and forestry regions. Just in just one space in the back again an alley of lime trees reminds of the garden’s previous baroque landscape.

Really, the castle gardens not only score thanks to their personal magnificence but to some fascinating aspect structures and sculptures.  As if counting down the previous hundreds of years, a crumbling backyard building traces up with a freshly renovated theater pavilion, a completely preserved farmyard including a attractive wine shop, a 21st-century auditorium and a significant historic creating now housing gourmet cafe Toni Mörwald.

Grafenegg Competition

In between mid June and mid September each individual year, dozens of renowned musicians and conductors from throughout Europe generate to Grafenegg to delight an auditorium of connoisseurs and music fans. Mainly because of Grafenegg’s higher status as a classical concert venue you will face grand symphony orchestras these as the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra as well as major ensembles of musicians, singers and soloists accomplishing classical new music, jazz, pop or even Latin new music.

On a heat August night I went to delight in baroque French new music with my community college close friend and France aficionado Barbara. As regular, the summer time live performance began with a prelude. In our scenario, a outstanding saxophone ensemble dressed up Haendel’s Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, Bach’s Italian Live performance and parts by Schostakovitch and Astor Piazzolla in soft velvet and impressive tones.

While some visitors used the time involving the prelude and night concert for evening meal at the gourmand restaurant subsequent doorway we stayed for a lecture about New music in Versailles.

By that time, the skies experienced cleared from the gentle rain. Even so, the night concert took location in the auditorium as a substitute of the open air Cloud Tower (aka Wolkenturm). Immediately after we had swallowed our disappointment together with sandwiches and champagne in the gardens we headed for dry seats within. In truth, it took the musicians only five minutes to place our anticipations back again into perspective – open up air would have been great but what mattered at the conclusion of the working day was the tunes.

I’m not confident about the orchestra or songs you would get a likelihood to pay attention to but ‘our’ Cappella Gabetta, fired up by a Paganini-style violinist and a breath taking trumpeter, dwarfed lots of of my previous classical music ordeals: when extraordinary musical skills meet up with with enthusiasm and precision you just cannot enable feeling completely awed.

As I’m finishing this submit, I have by now planned my return to Grafenegg next yr. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it to a person of Grafenegg’s summer evening galas in mid June and mid August, with fireworks and all.

Functional Facts

Handle: A-3485 Grafenegg 10, Austria

How to Get There: Both just take the train from Vienna to Wagram-Grafenegg and then a area taxi for the previous 2 km. Or get a non-public motor vehicle transfer – for illustration for a working day excursion including Wachau Valley, wine tastings and Melk Abbey (email me on barbara.cacao(at)vienna-unwrapped.com if you will need assistance).

Classical Songs Programme and Tickets: take a look at internet site

check out a lot more about nearby Wachau Valley

come across out about other Day Trips from Vienna

go back to Vienna Unwrapped homepage

from Cheapr Travels https://ift.tt/34hfpBF via https://ift.tt/2NIqXKN

[incorrect-toriko-quotes]

Melk I, with his microphone stone: Hey!

Melk II: What do you want?

Melk I: Remember what I said to you yesterday?

Melk II: ... you said something yesterday?

[incorrect-toriko-quotes]

Melk the First: Respect Melk the Second’s pronouns, or I'm going to have to...

Melk the First: PRONOUNS you dead :-)

[topfygad]

Grafenegg, Austria: Castle & Live performance Working day Excursion From Vienna

Grafenegg. For a clean air of sophistication during a day trip from Vienna, head for Schloss Grafenegg. As a child I could not get ample of the castle’s magical Xmas marketplaces. Later on on, my daughter and I appreciated Grafenegg’s spectacular condition rooms and a garden picnic in two of its deck chairs, on our way to Wachau Valley. And most recently, I took a buddy for a classical summer season concert for the duration of Grafenegg’s once-a-year Summer months Competition. Uncover out what you could see and do there.

Viewing Schloss Grafenegg

At barely an hour’s generate from Vienna, the castle and compounds dating from the 15th century prolong in one particular of Austria’s loveliest wine locations: the Kamptal. Outfitted with turrets, towers and a moat, Grafenegg can make a correct fairy tale castle. Even much more so when you place the founding Bräuner family’s Medieval-design and style coat of arms, and the stone-carved animals and figures leaping out of the North side’s façade.

The moment you enter by way of the gate, the main tower, a splendid open staircase, a wood gallery and neat rows of painted home windows produce an immaculate historic courtyard. Offered how devastated Grafenegg was following Environment War II and the Russian occupation the Metternich-Sandor family, who currently owns Grafenegg, did a perfect renovation career.

As a make a difference of reality, the motive Grafenegg appears to be like a little bit English is the Tudor Gothic type that Britain admirer and owner Duke Bräuner was so fond of when he experienced it constructed in the mid 19th century.

Inside of, the pretty tale carries on with a proper knights’ corridor, a chapel, a library and quite a few lovely rooms. Most striking are the fantastically carved picket ‘hammer beam’ ceilings. Like with the outer façade, sharpen your eye for the lots of figurines you will discover in the ceiling corners of some rooms. On a person of the ceilings you will discover extra than 100 coats of arms of Duchess Bräuner.

One more spectacular element are the primary tiled stoves from the 19th century that have been warming most of the rooms for the duration of the Kamptal’s icy winters. As you enter the knights’ hall, observe out for the partitions coated in gold-pressed leather-based that miraculously survived and now regained their previous glory. In the library you will come across a couple open up antique textbooks that includes awesome paintings and drawings.

Grafenegg’s Gardens

About the castle you can promenade throughout a intimate park covering the measurement of 45 soccer fields. Substantially like in suitable English-design and style castle grounds, informal teams of tree giants alternate with wild flower beds though pathways meander throughout lawns and forestry regions. Just in just one space in the back again an alley of lime trees reminds of the garden’s previous baroque landscape.

Really, the castle gardens not only score thanks to their personal magnificence but to some fascinating aspect structures and sculptures.  As if counting down the previous hundreds of years, a crumbling backyard building traces up with a freshly renovated theater pavilion, a completely preserved farmyard including a attractive wine shop, a 21st-century auditorium and a significant historic creating now housing gourmet cafe Toni Mörwald.

Grafenegg Competition

In between mid June and mid September each individual year, dozens of renowned musicians and conductors from throughout Europe generate to Grafenegg to delight an auditorium of connoisseurs and music fans. Mainly because of Grafenegg’s higher status as a classical concert venue you will face grand symphony orchestras these as the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra as well as major ensembles of musicians, singers and soloists accomplishing classical new music, jazz, pop or even Latin new music.

On a heat August night I went to delight in baroque French new music with my community college close friend and France aficionado Barbara. As regular, the summer time live performance began with a prelude. In our scenario, a outstanding saxophone ensemble dressed up Haendel’s Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, Bach’s Italian Live performance and parts by Schostakovitch and Astor Piazzolla in soft velvet and impressive tones.

While some visitors used the time involving the prelude and night concert for evening meal at the gourmand restaurant subsequent doorway we stayed for a lecture about New music in Versailles.

By that time, the skies experienced cleared from the gentle rain. Even so, the night concert took location in the auditorium as a substitute of the open air Cloud Tower (aka Wolkenturm). Immediately after we had swallowed our disappointment together with sandwiches and champagne in the gardens we headed for dry seats within. In truth, it took the musicians only five minutes to place our anticipations back again into perspective – open up air would have been great but what mattered at the conclusion of the working day was the tunes.

I’m not confident about the orchestra or songs you would get a likelihood to pay attention to but ‘our’ Cappella Gabetta, fired up by a Paganini-style violinist and a breath taking trumpeter, dwarfed lots of of my previous classical music ordeals: when extraordinary musical skills meet up with with enthusiasm and precision you just cannot enable feeling completely awed.

As I’m finishing this submit, I have by now planned my return to Grafenegg next yr. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it to a person of Grafenegg’s summer evening galas in mid June and mid August, with fireworks and all.

Functional Facts

Handle: A-3485 Grafenegg 10, Austria

How to Get There: Both just take the train from Vienna to Wagram-Grafenegg and then a area taxi for the previous 2 km. Or get a non-public motor vehicle transfer – for illustration for a working day excursion including Wachau Valley, wine tastings and Melk Abbey (email me on barbara.cacao(at)vienna-unwrapped.com if you will need assistance).

Classical Songs Programme and Tickets: take a look at internet site

check out a lot more about nearby Wachau Valley

come across out about other Day Trips from Vienna

go back to Vienna Unwrapped homepage

source http://cheaprtravels.com/grafenegg-austria-castle-live-performance-working-day-excursion-from-vienna/

[topfygad]

Grafenegg, Austria: Castle & Live performance Working day Excursion From Vienna

Grafenegg. For a clean air of sophistication during a day trip from Vienna, head for Schloss Grafenegg. As a child I could not get ample of the castle’s magical Xmas marketplaces. Later on on, my daughter and I appreciated Grafenegg’s spectacular condition rooms and a garden picnic in two of its deck chairs, on our way to Wachau Valley. And most recently, I took a buddy for a classical summer season concert for the duration of Grafenegg’s once-a-year Summer months Competition. Uncover out what you could see and do there.

Viewing Schloss Grafenegg

At barely an hour’s generate from Vienna, the castle and compounds dating from the 15th century prolong in one particular of Austria’s loveliest wine locations: the Kamptal. Outfitted with turrets, towers and a moat, Grafenegg can make a correct fairy tale castle. Even much more so when you place the founding Bräuner family’s Medieval-design and style coat of arms, and the stone-carved animals and figures leaping out of the North side’s façade.

The moment you enter by way of the gate, the main tower, a splendid open staircase, a wood gallery and neat rows of painted home windows produce an immaculate historic courtyard. Offered how devastated Grafenegg was following Environment War II and the Russian occupation the Metternich-Sandor family, who currently owns Grafenegg, did a perfect renovation career.

As a make a difference of reality, the motive Grafenegg appears to be like a little bit English is the Tudor Gothic type that Britain admirer and owner Duke Bräuner was so fond of when he experienced it constructed in the mid 19th century.

Inside of, the pretty tale carries on with a proper knights’ corridor, a chapel, a library and quite a few lovely rooms. Most striking are the fantastically carved picket ‘hammer beam’ ceilings. Like with the outer façade, sharpen your eye for the lots of figurines you will discover in the ceiling corners of some rooms. On a person of the ceilings you will discover extra than 100 coats of arms of Duchess Bräuner.

One more spectacular element are the primary tiled stoves from the 19th century that have been warming most of the rooms for the duration of the Kamptal’s icy winters. As you enter the knights’ hall, observe out for the partitions coated in gold-pressed leather-based that miraculously survived and now regained their previous glory. In the library you will come across a couple open up antique textbooks that includes awesome paintings and drawings.

Grafenegg’s Gardens

About the castle you can promenade throughout a intimate park covering the measurement of 45 soccer fields. Substantially like in suitable English-design and style castle grounds, informal teams of tree giants alternate with wild flower beds though pathways meander throughout lawns and forestry regions. Just in just one space in the back again an alley of lime trees reminds of the garden’s previous baroque landscape.

Really, the castle gardens not only score thanks to their personal magnificence but to some fascinating aspect structures and sculptures.  As if counting down the previous hundreds of years, a crumbling backyard building traces up with a freshly renovated theater pavilion, a completely preserved farmyard including a attractive wine shop, a 21st-century auditorium and a significant historic creating now housing gourmet cafe Toni Mörwald.

Grafenegg Competition

In between mid June and mid September each individual year, dozens of renowned musicians and conductors from throughout Europe generate to Grafenegg to delight an auditorium of connoisseurs and music fans. Mainly because of Grafenegg’s higher status as a classical concert venue you will face grand symphony orchestras these as the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra as well as major ensembles of musicians, singers and soloists accomplishing classical new music, jazz, pop or even Latin new music.

On a heat August night I went to delight in baroque French new music with my community college close friend and France aficionado Barbara. As regular, the summer time live performance began with a prelude. In our scenario, a outstanding saxophone ensemble dressed up Haendel’s Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, Bach’s Italian Live performance and parts by Schostakovitch and Astor Piazzolla in soft velvet and impressive tones.

While some visitors used the time involving the prelude and night concert for evening meal at the gourmand restaurant subsequent doorway we stayed for a lecture about New music in Versailles.

By that time, the skies experienced cleared from the gentle rain. Even so, the night concert took location in the auditorium as a substitute of the open air Cloud Tower (aka Wolkenturm). Immediately after we had swallowed our disappointment together with sandwiches and champagne in the gardens we headed for dry seats within. In truth, it took the musicians only five minutes to place our anticipations back again into perspective – open up air would have been great but what mattered at the conclusion of the working day was the tunes.

I’m not confident about the orchestra or songs you would get a likelihood to pay attention to but ‘our’ Cappella Gabetta, fired up by a Paganini-style violinist and a breath taking trumpeter, dwarfed lots of of my previous classical music ordeals: when extraordinary musical skills meet up with with enthusiasm and precision you just cannot enable feeling completely awed.

As I’m finishing this submit, I have by now planned my return to Grafenegg next yr. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it to a person of Grafenegg’s summer evening galas in mid June and mid August, with fireworks and all.

Functional Facts

Handle: A-3485 Grafenegg 10, Austria

How to Get There: Both just take the train from Vienna to Wagram-Grafenegg and then a area taxi for the previous 2 km. Or get a non-public motor vehicle transfer – for illustration for a working day excursion including Wachau Valley, wine tastings and Melk Abbey (email me on barbara.cacao(at)vienna-unwrapped.com if you will need assistance).

Classical Songs Programme and Tickets: take a look at internet site

check out a lot more about nearby Wachau Valley

come across out about other Day Trips from Vienna

go back to Vienna Unwrapped homepage

from Cheapr Travels https://ift.tt/34hfpBF via IFTTT

[incorrect-toriko-quotes]

Melk II: Sometimes I call myself 'she', but in an unmistakably un-female way.

Melk II: Like... 'she' in the way an old fisherman's boat is a 'she'.

Melk II: “She may be falling apart, but she gets the job done.”

[ekamy]

Melk: "... mnyonayonaofmonoan-"

Toriko: "... Yeah his voice is SERIOUSLY quiet. ... This is bad. I've got no idea what he's saying!"

[Episode 55]

SHARPENER MELK IS THE BEST, OK?