#she is also Op so be aware of that!

[aroaceleovaldez]

was thinking about next-gen kids and decided to doodle a couple. elaborated thoughts below:

Iphis is named with the same naming conventions that Sally used when naming Percy - primarily, mythological figure who had a good fate. Nice for Percy to honor his mom by naming his own kid the same way and Annabeth gets a fun nerdy mythology name. Also sending good vibes to their kid. Plus middle name directly in honor of Sally, of course.

Specific myth is Iphis and Ianthe, with the idea that a.) it's gender-neutral so works regardless of kid's gender and b.) not only does Iphis have a good fate, but arguably nothing bad happens to them ever and they get helped out by like three whole pantheons who show up in a literal parade and they live happily ever after. Percy and Annabeth are pushing for the BEST vibes possible.

(Also I am a very strong proponent of the "I don't think they'd name their kids after dead family/friends" so none of them have that)

Iphis of course inherited the Jackson family early grey hairs <3

Virginia is named after Juniper (cause Juniper is specifically implied to be Juniperus virginiana). She's probably been childhood bffs with Iphis since Iphis was born.

Chuck is Chuck. I gave him a Yankees jersey cause you know he's being raised as a sporty kid.

Do you ever think about how OP Frank and Hazel's kid would be. It's ridiculous. Quadruple legacy, including 2/3 of the Big Three. Frank by himself was already so OP the gods had to nerf him. Hazel came back from the dead and Frank kinda just said "nope" to dying that one time. Hazel presumably has every power that Nico has which is. A lot. Not to mention what Hazel has been shown to just be able to do on her own (including but not limited to SINKING AN ENTIRE SMALL ISLAND). Ares/Mars kids can functionally be completely invulnerable sometimes and also have some limited necromancy. Combo that with Hades/Pluto kids also being hard to kill and having necromancy as one of their main powers. Not to mention how Pluto geokinesis might combo with Chloris (goddess of spring) powers? And this kid is 100% being protected by both Nico (who is probably a deity by that point) and probably Pluto himself as well? Hello?

Anyways Hazel and Frank's kid is a total powerhouse. Possibly functionally immortal. Easily strongest demigod of her generation.

I like to think the latent Chloris legacy would crop up (probably in combo with Mars and Poseidon's plant aspects) and give them an accidental Persephone-type theme and that's fun. Frazel's goth daughter who takes after her grandmother (and uncle).

Figured since Frank is Canadian and Hazel is from Louisiana they'd go for a French name. The flower theme was not intentional on their part it just happened. Law of demigod naming conventions appears nonetheless.

I figure Leo might not have kids of his own but he probably still hangs around with Hazel and Frank so of course he's going to make their kid a cool thematic robot pet. He's probably her godfather or something.

Ronan is literally just some kid who showed up at the Chase Space who coincidentally was a legacy of Freyr and could shapeshift. Magnus and Alex obviously can't have kids cause they're dead, BUT some orphan with essentially a combo of their powers just shows up on their doorstep? Their kid now.

The ironic part is of course their shapeshifting powers just happen to be because they're distantly related to one of Annabeth's friends. Ronan finds himself suddenly gaining two parents and two cousins (Iphis and Lily) in rapid succession.

He only picks up Magnus' last name though cause Alex has 100% disowned her mortal parents.

He has a seal flipper cause shapeshifting and apparently "Ronan" means seal. I just wanted to draw those two showcasing their shapeshifting a lil bit.

Might try to doodle the other next-gen kid thoughts I had at some point but idk when. anyways yeah.

[lord-squiggletits]

"IDW Megatron got a redemption arc and Starscream didn't it's so unfair--"

Do not slander Metalhawk, Bumblebee, and Windblade's hard work trying to fix this man they didn't work for half the continuity (and in 2/3 of their cases) literally die and come back as zombies/ghosts for y'all to be out there saying no one helped Starscream get redeemed and have friends and be a better person

[kacievvbbbb]

The sheer amount of people doffy and his gang had been turning into toys is crazy 😭.

my guy a polar bear and a gorilla? really? why? 😭 what'd they even do to you?

fuck the hammer and the nail

if all Doffy has is a small child in a bear eared robe then every problem starts to look like it belongs in a playpen I guess

He needs to work on his conflict resolution skills

[toytulini]

OP of that music poll was joking but theres ppl in the notes who Arent and even more ppl in the notes who are like "i dont listen to anything past 2014!!" and thats mostly what i was pointing out as Also Weird. like its FINE. if youre enjoying the music like its literally fine like who give a shit. but it is also a little weird. possibly weirder than the op, who was joking, but im sure she also listens to music weird, bc who is fucking listen to music normal??

[cervidsunrise]

Sometimes I wanna yell about my characters themes and motifs bc they're so important to me but I have nowhere to yell about them bc nobody knows why it's so important without having access to 30-odd Google docs (per character) and also my brain bc there's a lot that I never wrote down

[omarfor-orchestra]

Sometimes the author does the worst possible thing they could to some character and sometimes the fanbase interpretation makes the whole thing even worse and you're there looking at the character like they massacred my boy(gn)

[kaesaaurelia]

Oof. Nothing like a bus ride that makes you wish you'd missed the bus.

[stirdrawsandreblaws]

trying to gently explain to someone that you do not make an oc for a decades-old thing that has one of the most autistic and lore-entrenched fanbases without being willing to do either 1) a cursory wiki skim beforehand about the extensively well-established canon you're supposedly building your character off of, or 2) prepare for people to Not Like Or Understand What You're Going For, Here

tl;dr if you wanna do an alternate interpretation of a d&d god (and llolth??? being a sad misunderstood and distant power who didn't want any murdering done in her name????? and Personally treats a *male* cleric well???? is Definitely an alternate interpretation) then...make your own setting and write or DM for it?? instead of being mad that other people would share lore with you bc what you've come up with directly contradicts the canon that everyone else is going by???

[aq2003]

oh btw i get even more why brennan (like me) clocked sophomore year fabian as fucked up and sad even if some of the other pcs were like "what are you talking about dude" . it's because the basic core theses of fabian and leiland eftbk as characters are actually pretty similar

[the-acid-pear]

Glad I'm aro so I can fucking say some other aros out there are so fucking annoying.

[gibbearish]

ive always wondered how other blogs with multiple mods work bc like ive seen ppl talk abt having discord servers and stuff to coordinate posts and im just here like 99% sure the other mod on ours doesnt even know my current url

[leezuhh]

what was that post about how people are getting afraid to ask stuff especially to popular bloggers because all of that person's followers will dogpile on them for something mostly innocuous,,,,

[dcxdpdabbles]

Oh my god, you laid out freelance inventor perfectly for the justice league to mistake Danny for Batman, especially with John Jones already making his thoughts known that Bruce wayne would be the perfect himbo for Batman lol. Does the entire league pull together to make a beach day seem intentional and end up making so many mistaken assumptions along the way? Either way, I adore what you have going. I'm kinda curious if you had any thoughts on Damians' first reaction to meeting Danny? If not, that's okay. I just love the thought of Danny bonding with Damian in a feral way or through sparing like ghosts tend to in this fandom

The first time Danny meets Damian Wayne is when he comes to the Manor for a surprise visit. He usually would have called ahead or messaged Alfred, but it was a last-minute decision to stop by Gotham on his way to Metropolis.

Initially, Danny was going to a technology expo hosted by Lexcorp, but it was delayed due to a giant fight. A robot had flung Superman through the convention hall, causing severe damage.

Since he now had a weekend free while Lexcorp searched for a new venue, he figured he would spend it with his favorite one percent. Imagine his surprise when he noticed the first thing he noticed was that Bruce had a biological son, one he had told to stay hidden.

He had told his displaced son not to venture out of the manner because he didn't want the public to know about him. Danny hadn't felt this angry in a long, long time.

The glare he sent Bruce had the man flinching, causing Damian, fresh to the Manor and not used to seeing his Father as anything but commanding, to raise an impressed eyebrow. "Kids. Bed. Now. I want to talk to your Father."

"No." Bruce cowered. "Please stay, kids."

"Sorry Bruce, I actually have to touch up some photos for this month's photo op," Tim was quick to say, jumping from his seat.

"I also really need to get started on some paperwork for the gymnastic gym." Dick laughed nervously, dropping out of the handstand he was in. Danny never understood how the young man could randomly spring into flips and handstands.

Damian did not inch from his chair, though. He meets Danny's gaze with a cool upturn of his nose and crossed arms.

"You have no control over me or my actions, Harlot," Damian hissed, but a pale Dick and Tim pushed him out. Jason had been out on some far-off island trip with his friends- Roy, Kori, Artemis, and that delightful Bizzarro who spoke like it was an opposite day every day.

He was the only person to whom he would not talk to Damian. Everyone else would look Danny in the eye and justify why they would assume that a child should be treated as a secret was the correct thing to do.

"Well?" Danny asks when all Bruce does is sit there, hands on his lap and sweating. He narrows his eyes, crosses his arms, and watches the sweat drip down Bruce's head. "Explain yourself."

"Danny, I swear I wasn't aware of Damian. His mother told me she had a miscarriage. If I had known, I would have told you-" Bruce started but was cut off by Danny marching across the room and practically snaring into his face.

"That's not why you're in trouble, Bruce. Why are you treating a nine-year-old boy like a dirty secret?!"

"um..well, that's...you need to understand he's a bit unstable-"

"Choose your next words very carefully, Bruce." Danny cuts him off, recrossing his arms. Bruce swallows before he seems to gather unknown courage and straightens out his back.

"Danny, I don't think Damian needs to be a secret forever, but he needs to adjust before he can go out. He had a hard life with his birth mother and tends to lash out in violent outbursts. Just last week, he pushed Tim off the stairway!"

That's alarming. In fact, it isn't very good to think Tim would not be safe in the same household as Damian. They talk more about it, especially the part where Damian makes clear he wishes to replace Tim and would do nothing to remove him.

Damian is a threat to Tim's well-being. He mentions this to Bruce, who waves it way like a damn fool.

"Tim can handle it."

"Just because he can doesn't mean he should," Danny growls, throwing his arms into the air. "I can't talk to you right now. I can't even look at you."

"Danny, please-"

"Nope. I will tell Tim to stay with me, and I will make plans to take Damian out and about. If you treat someone like a criminal, they will act like one. I'm going to help that young boy settle here, but I will not do it at the expense of another. Don't call or message me." Danny growls, strutting out of the room only to practically run into Damian.

The boy raises his chin as if daring Danny to tell him off for eavesdropping. For one second, Danny is reminded of Jazz, back when she had been so insistent that she was an adult.

His eyes soften, and he knows Damian can see based on his surprise blink. "H kid have you had the chance to go into Gotham yet?"

"Why would I waste my time with the peasants? I am an elite warrior, destined to rule over them."

Huh. He reminds Danny a lot of Jazz now, with her anti-social tendencies- not that she refused to be around people, more like she refused to make friendships with people her age because she thought herself too mature for them- and a little of the battle-hungry ghosts in the Zone.

He can handle that.

"You are to be a general, right? Why are you acting like a common foot soldier?" He asks, watching the boy's entire demeanor freeze over. "A good ruler is not just combat strength. They can take command and can easily step among their fighters. How can you do that if you do not understand the common folk's way of thinking?"

Damian opened and closed his mouth before narrowing his eyes. "You mock me."

Danny shakes his head, falling to his knees so Damian won't need to strain his neck. He keeps the baby talk out of his voice but only barely. He gets the sense that like his sister, Damian would prefer to be treated like a mini adult. "Never. I'm genuinely interested in your thoughts, but you must know that all knowledge is power. Know thy enemy..."

"...as one knows thyself," Damian finishes his quote, looking vaguely intruded. He considers the offer before nodding. "I shall accompany you on your outing and gain valued observations of the average American child."

"Only after you apologize for attacking Tim and tell him to his face how you will not be doing that again," Danny warns, raising a finger at Damian's clouded face. "A good leader does not want insubordination. Attacking Tim did not prove anything but how unreliable you are and how much you fear Tim."

"I do not fear Drake!"

"Then why does his presence so threaten you? Bruce told me how out of all his kids, you seemed so sure you could take him in a fight but not a battle of wits."

Damian's eyes grow cold before he lashes out a hand. Danny catches it quickly, much to the boy's shock. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Not bad, but not what a regular American child would behave. You would have been singled out as a spy the second you stepped in the street."

"....I shall work on my reaction and emotional regulation." Damian yanks his arm free, striding away but not before glancing back at Danny. "You are strange."

Danny smiles. "Thanks, kiddo."

The boy vanishes from sight, and Danny sighs. He must now find Tim and help him pack to stay with him. He also needs to yell at everyone in the Manor, including Alfred. Honestly, that man enables Bruce far too much.

[aiura-stan]

Nope.

aspd criteria

npd criteria

saiki kusuo has anti social personality disorder and teruhashi kokomi has narcissistic personality disorder. and i love them for it

[Confession 269]

[bixels]

Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 03

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it. Carmilla and Velvet feud because I also live for that. I also really favor Zestial for some reason as a calm mediator.

Song for this chapter: Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61

A/N: Thank you all so much for your positive feedback & feedback in general on the last two posts!! I really didn’t think this would catch so much attention but I’m so glad people like it. For some reason Tumblr’s being weird and doesn’t want to let me tag certain people, I don’t know why but if anyone does please let me know because I really don’t like that ;/ But I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! Please note that some blogs cannot be tagged, so I recommend checking this post and to check your settings to make sure I can tag you! If anything I can always just message you when the next chapter comes out, and yes I am making this series longer :) it’ll also be posted on my Wattpad soon!

Word count: 3890

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @iaaeav @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @pretty-puppy-stuffies @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @lunalixya

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part two. // Part four.

Engaging with guests throughout the night had become an exhausting endeavor, and a part of you yearned for the solace of your absence. Nevertheless, you maintained the façade, acknowledging every sinner whose smile dripped with crimson mischief. Having greeted each guest, you discreetly slipped into a shadowed corner, your shadows enveloping your figure quickly, seamlessly disappearing from the expansive room in mere seconds and emerging into an intimate gazebo outside, meticulously arranged beneath the sweeping branches of a weeping willow, you marveled at its unique ambiance. Unlike the earthly counterparts that stood white, the willow in your realm bore a deep crimson hue, its leaves adorned with a subtle, luminous sheen. A gentle smile graced your lips as you leaned against the sturdy black iron railing, delicately cradling a piece of the weeping willow between your fingertips. In the distance, the grand mansion hosting the gala loomed, its opulence contrasting with the simplicity of your secluded retreat. Despite the awareness of etiquette dictating against leaving guests unattended, the need for a mental break led you to this haven, a safe space for you. Reflecting, you acknowledged a desire for better preparation and rehearsal with the shadows, realizing the repetitiveness of conversations with the familiar sinners had rendered the night somewhat lackluster. It almost felt like you had come out of hiding for nothing. Quite the disappointment.

You sigh, massaging your temples, the lace fabric on your fingertips only slightly soothing the growing headache. However, not too far behind, you hear the sound of soft grass. You straighten up and turn around, seeing none other than your long time friend Zestial, who just smiled, nodding at you.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial inquired, standing by your side with his back against the railing. You resumed your original position, taking a moment to appreciate his father. Mentally noting how much of your grandfather Zestial reminded you of, you kept the sentiment unspoken.

Tonight, Zestial adorned himself in an outfit resonant with his time period, preserving his distinctive color scheme. A dark, meticulously tailored coat with lime green accents draped over his slender frame, capturing the essence of his demonic class. The cloak, adorned with lime green spider webs, unveiled a mesmerizing display when unfurled—his lime green eyes radiating, the upper pair embellished with vivid red irises. Instead of the customary big top hat, Zestial selected a smaller, more appropriate hat with a touch of flair. Dark as the shadows you command, it featured a light grey patch at the front and was finished with a grey-colored skull and a lime green and red-striped feather on the right side, adding a distinctive touch that mirrored his nature.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial repeated, shifting toward you a bit. Yet you resumed your original position, savoring the quiet ambiance before finally answering him. “What shall we discourse upon during our repast this eventide?” Zestial asked. Though his wording occasionally posed a challenge for others, having grown up in a family of eloquent speakers, you easily deciphered his intent. Something he truly appreciated. Though he was learning to speak more ‘modern’, or as modern as he could be.

“Quite unsure of that. Everything is changing, and I fear I might be left behind,” you expressed bluntly. Zestial sighed in response, a mix of understanding and concern evident in his lime green eyes.

“Madame, thou art timeless,” Zestial said with a bow, his cup proofing into smoke. “I pray thee, vex not thyself o’er so trivial a matter,” he added, his words resonating with both reassurance and genuine care.

You nodded, handing him a card. His surprised expression upon finding two cards instead of one didn’t escape you. “What manner of thing is this?” Zestial inquired, prompting you to summon a shadow for yourself, knowing he would find his own means back to the Gala.

“Carmilla. I am no fool to the both of you,” you said, amusement coloring your words as Zestial shook his head.

“Thou dost astonish me on every occasion,” Zestial remarked, standing by your side as you walked into your portal. Two seats vanished, leaving four empty seats at your table and six occupied.

In your study, you floated scripts in front of you, checking off names on the table list for tonight. With a few overlords left to choose from, Alastor and Charlotte secured seats based on trust and connections. Vox, Zestial, and Carmilla, an unspoken but potent couple, promised intrigue. Reconsidering Velvet for her potential devolution, you weighed each decision with strategic acumen.

Valentino, the Von Eldritch twins, and other weaker options were dismissed, maintaining a careful balance of power and influence. As you weigh the option of inviting Rosie to the gathering, her unpredictable nature adds a layer of excitement and potential surprise to the upcoming discussions. However, this unpredictability could also introduce challenges, creating an air of uncertainty around her contributions. Hopefully with Alastor around, she’d feel more inclined to behave. You check her name off the list.

In considering Stolas, the Goetia prince, his personal issues and tarnished reputation pose significant hurdles. Divorcing from his wife, sleeping with an imp for fun, as well as losing control of his daughter on Earth, it all seemed too risky to get involved with. While his wisdom and influence could contribute positively, the shadows of his struggles may complicate the dynamics, stirring potential conflicts and requiring delicate handling. Someone might get out of line with a comment towards him. His power was incredibly useful, but not worth the risk.

Husk’s transformation from a former overlord to a bartender signals a decline in power and status. While his laid-back demeanor might bring a sense of unpredictability, his diminished influence raises questions about the relevance of his involvement in the current political landscape of hell. Though he was your friend, you needed to keep your reputation pristine.

As the you contemplate the overlords assets, a mix of excitement, caution, and uncertainty envelops the decision-making process. Each overlord’s potential positive contributions are balanced by the looming negatives.

“Madame?” One of your shadows materialized, prompting a nod for them to proceed. “There seems to be some trouble in the lobby between the guests. What would you like us to do?” it inquired. A grimace crossed your face, hoping the disturbance wouldn’t mar your night. “Let me handle it,” you declared, snapping your fingers, causing the script to vanish. The shadow nodded, blending back into a wall for you to step through.

Upon reappearing, you assumed the form of a taller shadow. The room surrounded by guests revealed Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla standing in the middle. Zestial, seemingly composed, stood close behind Carmilla, observing the situation. Carmilla appeared visibly upset, with Velvet in proximity, a pointed finger dropping as soon as she noticed your arrival. Alastor maintained his usual wide smile, though it bordered on the eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The scene unfolded, presenting a potential challenge to the serene atmosphere you aimed to maintain during the gala.

Everyone seemed to stop, slowly turning toward you to see your face. Except there was no expression, just the large shadow you had taken form of. In seconds the shadow disappeared, leaving you in the fog, the expression on your face anything but calm.

"Madame I-" Velvet began, but her words were halted by the sight of your lace glove, your hand rising to silence her. Approaching the overlords, you spoke with an air of cold authority.

"My quarters. Now," you commanded, and with a snap of your fingers, smoke enveloped your spot as you vanished. Shadows materialized around the overlords, guiding them to your quarters, leaving the stunned guests in the lobby.

"Well, that was interesting," Valentino remarked.

In your study, the overlords found you seated in your tall, black chair. Its ebony surface featured intricate carvings of black glass, elegant swirls, and patterns tailored to your essence, creating an atmosphere of undeniable authority and refinement.

"I hope you all had fun acting like children," you chided sternly. The overlords lined up, forming a unified front. Leaning against the right side of your chair, you crossed your legs, elbow on the armrest, pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh. Annoyance laced your words as you questioned, "What did you feel the need to argue about now?" Before Velvet, Vox, and Carmilla could respond simultaneously, you halted them. "One at a time. I'd assume you all handle this like adults, if you even can." The tension in the room hung thick as the overlords awaited their turn to address your inquiry.

“She wants me at her table Vaggie! Me!” Charlotte said excitedly. Vagatha just smiled.

“That’s good! Now you can tell them about the hotel, and maybe someone will be interested.” Vagatha said, and Charlotte just nodded.

“Maybe they-“ Charlotte stopped, observing as people began to crowd around the center of the lobby. Charlotte and Vagatha stood from their spots at the bar to walk toward the center, where the overlords stood. Velvet and Vox were next to each other, while Carmilla, Alastor and Zestial were across. Carmilla and Velvet were face to face. “What’s going on?” Charlotte asked as Vagatha and her pushed their way through the crowds of people.

“Come on, Carmilla, always the mood-killer,” Velvet scoffed, a disrespectful tone tainting her words. Carmilla shot her a stern look, ready to assert her authority.

“Watch that tongue, Velvet. I will not let your insolence slide,” Carmilla retorted, attempting to rein in the escalating tension.

Vox, ever the smooth talker, chimed in, “Ladies, ladies, let’s not turn this into a drama fest. We’re all here for a reason.” Vox said, sternly giving a tight lipped smile to Velvet, silently telling her to keep her shit together.

Carmilla shot a glare at Velvet, who replied with a defiant smirk, “Drama or not, Vox, some of us aren’t here for the ballroom charm.”

Alastor, drawn to the brewing chaos, couldn’t resist adding his flair, “Well, well, a bit of spice never hurt a party, does it?”

Carmilla, unfazed by the chaos, spoke with a calm authority, “Velvet, your insolence is unnecessary. This is not a playground; it’s a gathering of overlords. Act accordingly.”

Velvet, seemingly undeterred, shot back with a dismissive laugh, “Poor Grandma, always trying to play the responsible one. Maybe loosen up a bit? Have a drink will you?”

Vox, ever the smooth talker, added with a slick comment, “Perhaps we can focus on the matters at hand. Save the theatrics for later ladies.”

Alastor, intrigued by the unfolding drama, simply grinned, “Oh the picture box has spoken! Quite intriguing.” The room continued to buzz with tension as each overlord, except Rosie, added their own flavor to the brewing turmoil. As the tension thickened, Vox, with a sly grin, couldn't resist adding his own slick comment to the mix.

"Ah, Alastor, the radio days were quaint, but it seems you're a bit outdated. Television is the future, perhaps you should tune in sometime," he quipped with a wink, the words delivered with a calculated smoothness. The room momentarily hung in a charged silence before the verbal sparring resumed, adding another layer to the complex interplay of personalities at the gala.

With Vox's comment about Alastor being outdated sinking in, the radio demon responded with a sly grin, sharp teeth on display, his eyes displays dials, as the rooms lights began to deepen, "Ah, Vox, your television endeavors are impressive, but remember, I'm not just audible; I'm unforgettable. A little screen time won't change that," he retorted, “This face was made for radio.” He said with a grin, tilting his head to the side, a sharp snap in his neck, his words carrying a mix of amusement and confidence. The verbal exchange between the two overlords added another layer to the already charged atmosphere, each comment becoming a piece in the intricate puzzle of conflicts and egos at the gala.

“See what you did grandma, now you’ve got the two of them fighting.” Velvet said, pointing a finger into Carmella’s chest. She scoffed, shoving her away.

“Don’t you dare get disrespectful on me you brat.” Carmilla said, beginning to heat up with anger.

That's when Madame stepped in, reappearing in the form of a taller shadow, casting a lengthened silhouette in the room brimming with guests. Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla found themselves at the center of the unfolding tableau, and Zestial, seemingly composed, lingered just behind Carmilla, quietly observing the escalating drama. Carmilla's visage betrayed a hint of distress, her pointed finger lowering as she registered your reappearance. Alastor, with his trademark grin, bordered on eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The unfolding scene disrupted the serene atmosphere you had meticulously aimed to maintain during the gala, presenting an unexpected challenge.

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned their gaze toward you, anticipating your reaction. However, your face remained expressionless, concealed within the depths of the large shadow you had taken form of. In mere seconds, the shadow dissipated, leaving you in a misty veil. Yet, beneath the calm exterior, a storm brewed, ready to challenge the delicate balance of the evening.

Now, here you all were, sitting in the study after Carmilla had explained the situation.

“Madame, with all due respect,” Carmilla spoke, looking down. “I truly do not believe Velvet is mature enough to be at our table tonight.” Carmilla said.

“Are you questioning my judgment?” You asked sharply, to which Carmilla stiffened quickly, shaking her head then.

”No Madame, I would never-“

“Then do not say foolish things.” You said. Sighing, you shut your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. Tonight sensitive information would be revealed and Carmilla did have some point here. Velvet clearly could not hold her tongue.

”Vox, control your associate please, or you both will be cut from the dinner tonight.” You said finally, to which he nodded nervously.

“Of course Madame.” He said, nodding to you.

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, looking to Alastor.

“I want none of this technology talk either.” You spoke, staring at Alastor who just smiled with lidded eyes. You knew he was very much upset, but you had forbidden anyone to fight in your home, anyone but you of course. “You all will act like mature adults wether you like it or not. I am not your guardian, I should not be having this conversation with overlords who should know better.” You said, standing. ”Now, all of you, out.” You said, snapping your fingers. Quickly the shadows began to move, ushering everyone out of your study. Everyone except Carmilla. “Not you.” You said to her, Zestial nodding to you and her as he stepped out, giving you both privacy.

“Madame, I didn’t mean what I said-“ Carmilla said quickly. You waved her off, straightening yourself out.

“Nonsense Carmilla, I know you meant well.” You said with a stoic expression. You sit back down, crossing your legs and snapping your fingers to form a chair in front of your desk, ushering her to sit. “I wanted to speak to you about your weapons.” You stated. At this her eyes went wide, before dropping again.

“Oh, very well then. What would you like to know?” She asked. You grinned, before standing again.

“Well, how much would I need to give you for you to make me a personal bayonet?” You asked. She went silent for a moment, before answering.

“Nothing at all Madame.” She said, standing to look at you. “May I ask what for?” She questioned. You shook your head.

“No, just to have on display. I want a new one, the old one I have is quite out of style for me.” You replied. She just nodded, before you waved to her, sitting back down and summoning a script again. “You may go now, and please, do not argue with children.” You commented. She just smiled and nodded, leaving you to your own vices.

It was half-past eleven, five minutes till the midnight bells chime. Everyone in the lobby was beginning to get excited for the entertainment you had planned for the night. Oh, you knew you would not disappoint.

“Madame would like everyone to accompany her on a journey tonight. She has sent me to retrieve you all. She would like to formally welcome you to tonight’s entertainment.” The large shadow said, standing from the topic of the stairs. Behind it was a large portal. It stepped backwards, into the portal, and nodded for the guests to start coming through.

The custom-built coliseum stands as a testament to Madame's vision, a grand fusion of opulence and dark elegance. The circular structure boasts towering columns, but instead of conventional pillars, thick chains rise, intricately linked and serving as both ornamental decor and structural support. The arches, molded in black, curve gracefully around the circumference, evoking a Victorian Gothic aesthetic that permeates the entire venue.

Two larger-than-life statues of Madame herself flank the entrance, capturing her regal poise and adding a touch of imposing authority. The statues serve not only as decorative elements but as a representation of the gala's hostess, a constant presence overseeing the proceedings, she is always watching, all seeing, perfection.

The overall ambiance is one of grandeur and mystery, with the black molding on the arches casting shadows that play into the darker undertones. Every intricate detail, from the chains to the statues, contributes to the unique Victorian Gothic feel of the coliseum, matching Madame’s home perfectly, matching her perfectly. The venue, finally being unveiled to the guests, now welcomes them who are treated to an appetizer course, surrounded by the striking architecture and entertained within the darkly enchanting atmosphere Madame has meticulously crafted.

Numerous shadows, dark and formless, line the entrance walls, extending silent greetings to the arriving guests. Their presence adds an air of mystique and intrigue as they blend seamlessly with the Gothic architecture. As attendees make their way into the coliseum, these shadowy figures create an ethereal welcome, embodying the unique atmosphere of Madame's custom-built venue.

At a separate entrance reserved for the handpicked members of Madame's esteemed dinner table, a solitary shadow stands guard. This entrance, reserved for a select few, hints at the exclusivity and importance of those who will partake in the upcoming dinner. The shadowy sentinels serve not only as silent greeters but also as guardians of the event's secrets, casting an enigmatic allure over the gala.

A singular shadows escorts Charlotte, Alastor, and the rest of the overlords to the exclusive section, leading them to an elevator to bring them to the best seats in the coliseum. The elevator’s interior is a striking display of elegance, with white and black checkered flooring lending a timeless touch. The walls, enveloped in darkness, exude an air of mystery, while black, smokey glass engravings on the ceiling add intricate detailing that dances in the ambient light. Each number on the elevator, indicating the ascending levels, glows a vibrant red, creating a vivid contrast against the monochrome palette.

“Oh I’m so excited! What do you think we’re gonna see? Gladiators? Sinners fight? Oh actually I hope not, I don’t want people to die.” Charlotte said to Alastor. Carmilla just chuckled at her antics while Zestial eyed her with curiosity. Where did Alastor find such a girl and why the princess of all people?

The elevator stops at the top floor, revealing the opening in the middle, which was surprisingly covered with water.

“What is Madame playing at?” Carmilla questioned as the overlords sat in a row at the top. From there they could see everything and everyone.

“I am quite uncertain, yet my anticipation is stirred nonetheless.” Zestial said. The lights around began to dim, and shadows began to pour glasses of water in front of all the guests. Down in the middle of the coliseum was the tallest shadow, the one that seemed to be Madame’s favorite, since it always spoke for her.

“Greetings all. It is Madame’s pleasure to invite you all to the special entertainment tonight. Madame has put together some of hell’s finest performers for your entertainment tonight. I would like to present, preforming here tonight, The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra preforming Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61.” The shadow said with a bow, before it vanished just as quick as it came. Then, other shadows appeared, but this time they were different. They were people, performers, with clear outlined silhouettes, faces and expressions, even clothes.

“Hey, Al?” Charlotte asked, leaning over in her seat to Alastor. He let out a ‘hm?’ In response.

“Does Madame own those souls down there?” Charlotte whispered, but before Alastor could answer, a shadow had already cut in.

“Yes. All the shadows here, even yours, Madame owns.” The shadow said quietly, filling Charlotte’s glass cup with water. Charlotte nervously, perked up, but said nothing as she shadow carried on with it’s catering.

The ethereal notes of the music filled the air as the performance unfolded. Around the musicians stood ballet dancers, their movements a delicate poetry in motion. Clad in all black, the performers created a stark contrast to the dancers, who emerged with an otherworldly grace akin to figures rising from the depths of water. The dancers moved with an angelic fluidity, their forms intertwining seamlessly with the haunting melody, creating a mesmerizing tableau that captivated the audience. The visual symphony of black-clad musicians and the whisky-hued ballet dancers painted a scene of enchantment and mystery within the grand coliseum. Even down to the dancers, this had Madame written all over it.

Velvet's keen eye captured the essence of the dancers' ethereal movements on paper. With each stroke of her sketch, she depicted the dancers as if emerging from a watery abyss, the fog enveloping their feet creating an illusion of water flowing upward. The intricate details on her sketch paper brought to life the dancers' graceful forms, their figures seemingly intertwined with the rising mist, evoking the enchantment of a waterspout captured in a moment of sublime artistry. Velvet's artistic interpretation added a layer of depth to the performance, transforming the ephemeral dance into a tangible and captivating visual narrative.

Water had begun to swirl, the dancers moving around it, the water getting taller and taller, similar to the way it had when you had first made your entrance at the beginning of the Gala. Now, it was water, and from Charlotte’s seat, she had struggled to make out what was going on. She turned to Alastor to see him holding a pair of opera glasses in his hand. Without you having to ask, he tapped the armrest of her seat. Charlotte turned to the side to see a pair tucked neatly against the front of the armrest. She grabbed them quickly, before looking through them and at the waterspout now forming in the middle. Her jaw flew open, as well as the loud screech of Alastor’s track playing. Vox had short circuited, and Carmilla gasped loudly. Velvet stood silent, but there was evident confusion on her face, while Zestial sunk into his seat, conflicting emotions flowing through him.

“Madame- she’s-“ Charlotte stuttered, and Alastor nodded, swallowing thickly.

“With an exorcist. I know.”