#still not sure if i like adding that shine to rolling cutter...

[scatterpatter]

Cutting it up!!!

[fivefeetfear]

Chapter one

This takes place a year into the future.

......................................

"Spinel please be careful while you are down on Earth." White says worriedly as she kneels before the pink gem. Blue nods in agreement as she joins White on the floor.

"And don't forget to call us whenever you have the time." The cool colored diamond chimes in a soft smile gracing her features.

"And please bathe everyday so you don't get the stench of that disgusting planet onto your clothes." Yellow advise with a scowl on her face. She really hated the smell when they last visited, and she doubts much has changed. The two other diamonds roll their eyes at Yellow whom only shrugged. They knew she was right.

All three of the diamonds then shifted their attention back to the beloved gem before them wary for the journey ahead of her. Spinel smiles nervously at the over baring women as she rubs the back of her neck. Though she lived with them for a year, the pink gem was not the biggest fan of the diamonds overprotective nature. It could be quite exhausting and honestly a bit embarrassing. Most days she felt like their child when she was not being their best friend. Even so, Spinel loves them dearly, but this trip is necessary for the sake of her sanity. Just the thought of sleeping in without entertaining anyone sounded amazing to her. Spinel never knew she would miss having her own space, at least this time she gets to choose when she wants to be alone.

Spinel steps onto the warp padded preparing herself to leave the palace.

"Don't worry about me my diamonds; you won't even notice that I'm gone." She says teasingly trying to bring some light to the situation. Though the diamonds didn't find it amusing. Yellow's eyes sharpen as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"Was that self-deprecation?" Yellow questions making Spinel straightening up her posture at her tone. Crap. Blue eyes widen as she lowers herself closer to Spinel with concerned in her hues. Blue gently strokes the top of Spinel's head as she spoke tenderly.

"Of course we will notice you are gone, we love you Spinel." Blue says softly making the small gem feel guilty at her poor choice of words. In her defense she didn't mean for it to come out as self deprecation, they just took it that way as usual. Yellow then glances over at White as she "mutters" to her.

"Do you think she is ready to be on her own? Should we send one of our pearls with her?" Yellow asks White, who seems to be considering the thought. Maybe she still needed more supervision.

Spinel felt panic swell in her chest as she gazed up at her diamonds with pleading magenta eyes.

"I'm ready! I promise no more self-deprecating jokes!" She says. Spinel appreciates that her diamonds had spent all their time helping her build up her confidence. It was not by much, a year barely made a dent to the damage of six thousand years caused, but it was a start. She was able to keep her abandonment issues under control since she literally spends every single day with them, but she had some minor setbacks. Spinel thanked the stars that Steven was able to convince them that she is ready to go back to Earth for a mini-vacation and to take a break from diamond duties. There was no way she was going to let this opportunity pass her by. Spinel clasped her hands together and enlarged them as she gave the diamonds her best doe eyes.

"Please." She mutters meekly instantly making White and Blue melt under her glossy eyes.

"Ok, ok, just be safe and you can come home whenever you like!" White concedes childishly, how could she say no to that face! Yellow scoffs as she rolls her eyes agitated at how easily she gave in. This is Pink all over again.

Spinel smiles widely as she nods her head. She quickly waves at her family as a bright light shined from beneath her.

"See you soon my diamonds, bye!" And just like that she had vanished from their sight. In a blink of an eye Spinel was in the middle of Little Homeworld. It was bustling with different types of gems and a few humans here and there. The building also varies in sizes and colors, her eyes shined at the beautifully crafted town. The atmosphere here felt warm and cheery, the sky is bright blue with birds flocking above. It was nothing like the dark cold space at Homeworld. Releasing a heavy breath her shoulders slouches low to the ground, her arms spiral to the floor feeling at ease.

"SPINEL!" Someone cried out making said gem whip around behind her. Her smile softens as she spotted the main Crystal Gems. Steven was waving animatedly as he rushes over to her with Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst behind him. Spinel nerves began to take over as they grew closer, she still felt a large amount of guilt for what she did to them. Even though they reassured her multiple times that all is forgiven during their visits to Homeworld. Nevertheless, she still felt a shred of doubt, but she pushed that aside as Steven yanks her into a hug giggling happily as always.

"It's so good to finally meet up again! This is going to be a fun summer with you around!" he says enthusiastically. The gems smirked at his upbeat energy, they were all grateful that even though Steven is getting older, he was still the go lucky kid they all love. Spinel hums contently as she pulled away, physical contact still made her anxious. Spinel waves at the rest of the Crystal Gems, each of them giving her their own unique warm welcome. The pink gem clears her throat as she looked around Little Homeworld, her orbs then looked over to the hilltop where her injector used to be planted. It was no longer a toxic cesspool, but a beautiful greenie that added to the scenery of this peaceful town. In addition, if she looked hard enough, the first crater her injector left was in the shape of a upside down heart much like her gem. It seems so long ago now, so much as changed but yet at the same time everything still feels the same. At least to her.

Spinel glances at her friends and their new outfits, then she looks down at herself. Maybe thats why she feels the same. Her appearance did not change much; she still has her spiky pigtails and the three lines running down her cheeks. The only differences are she exchanged her puffy shorts and her large pointy shoes for something more casual and comfortable. She also stretched herself a few inches taller, experimenting with her height. Her eyes sadden, as she looks back at Steven, who is now seventeen years old.

"Can't believe it's been a year since I've been here, this place is beautiful" She muses still remembering when the small town was only 83.7 percent complete. OR in her case 56.2 percent complete since she did destroy most of it trying to help Steven get Garnets memories back. She really did track disaster everywhere she went?

"Yeah remind me to dispose of the pizza cutter." Peridot voice chimes in as she, Lapis, and Bismuth approached the team. The three gems gave the pink gem either a small smile or a shy wave. She returned their greetings with a wave of her own. It will take some time for her to adjust being around them all at once again.

"Hey, guys ready for the show?" Steven asked the three breaking the awkward silence that fell upon them.

"Yeah, let's start heading over so we can get good seats." Bismuth suggested as she began to lead the way. The Crystal Gem's follow close behind as Spinel and Steven walked behind the pack.

Spinel stood close to Steven, still feeling a bit awkward with the rest of the gems.

"Show?" she asks him, Steven nods.

"Yeah, one of the gems created a Broadway theater so gems and humans can sing, dance, act and she is a really good friend of ours. I'm sure you'll like her!" Steven said positively, his smile never faltering. Spinel smiles ever so softly as she held her arms closed to her body.

"Ok sounds like fun." She mutters.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Piggy’s Had Too Much Wine

This fic is highkey a vent because my younger brother is an asshole who never stops calling me fat

DISCLAIMER: By writing this fic I am not saying that Katy Richardson is fat. She is not. And even if she was, she would still be drop dead gorgeous. This is a fictional story about the character she plays, not her.

Word count: 3159

TW: Body shaming, body image issues, self harm

--------------------

  “Damn, girl, you got enough in your face?”

Joan looked up from the forkful of food she had just put in her mouth and blinked at Anne smirking across the table at her. She chewed slowly, like a sheep deep in thought, then said after swallowing, “Huh?”

Anne nodded at her meal. “You got a lot to eat there.”

  “I know,” Joan said, shifting in her seat. “I’m hungry.”

  “That’s new,” Cathy observed. “Usually you don’t like eating during lunch breaks at work.”

  “Well, we’re not at work,” Joan said. “This is a restaurant.”

  “We know that,” Cleves said. 

  “And the food is good here.” Joan went on hastily. “I like it.”

  “Maybe a little too much,” Kitty said from behind her glass, earning her a sharp, but wounded look from Joan, which she countered with a petty sip of her drink.

  “I’m paying, anyway,” Joan continued. “Why does it matter what I get?”   “It doesn’t, honey,” Aragon settled her. “Don’t worry about it.”

Joan nodded and then took another bite of her meal. She couldn’t help but feel a little awkward as she did so, as if she were eating like a pig out of a slop trough, but tried to ignore it. It was fine. Everybody had to eat. There was nothing embarrassing about it.

  “So…” Anne started again. Aragon gave her a warning look, but she either ignored it or didn’t see it. “What made you want to come out with us? Usually you never go out.”

Joan shrugged. “I got lonely. And there isn’t anything good to eat at my apartment, so…” She shrugged again.

  “Ah, so that explains why you’re stuffing your face like there’s no tomorrow,” Kitty nodded wisely.

Joan ruffled, face inflaming with red. “I said I was hungry!” She yelped, her voice pitching slightly.

  “Don’t get mad,” Kitty held her hand sup. “I thought you were just trying to starve yourself or something.”

  “You do never eat,” Jane put in her two cents.

  “Well, I am now,” Joan grumbled.

  “Do you have a date?” Cleves asked. “Maybe you’re looking for someplace good to take them?”

Anne snorted. “If Joan had a date, then I hope they have a belly kink because she’s going to be packing after this.” She took a sip of her drink, then breezily added, “More so than she usually is.”

A few giggles swept through the tables, while others snapped their heads around to gauge Joan’s reaction. And she did not look happy about what had been said.

Joan’s fork was raised up for her to take another bite, but frozen in midair. Bright red consumed her face like the blooming of a rose in spring. She unconsciously wrapped her free arm around her stomach while slowly setting her fork down with the other. She sat hunched against the table for a moment, then was grabbing her purse and dumping money out on the table.

  “You can pay with this,” She mumbled.

  “Come on, Joan,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. It was just a joke.”

But Joan doesn’t listen to her. She stood up and shoved her chair in roughly. Tears of humiliation could be seen shining in her eyes.

  “Oh my god,” Anne groaned. “Are you going to cry? Are you serious? You’re literally thinner than half of us here! What do you have to cry about? Or even be embarrassed about?”

Still, Joan doesn’t listen. She slung her purse of her shoulder and stormed out of the building, her arms wrapped firmly around her stomach the entire time.

------

When Joan got home, she shoved her fingers down her throat and cried. So much for a good meal. At least she got to pay for it.

------

That night, Joan stood in the shower with a box cutter poised over her exposed belly. She wondered what it would be like to find clarity in its blade. Cutting off pieces of herself would make her feel more whole. A heavy decision with a light outcome. It would just be like how they cut meat at slaughterhouses.

Make yourself an animal. Make yourself less human. It’ll make the process easier.

But the pain was bright and sharp and unbearable, even with the smallest of slices, and she threw the box cutter at the wall.

Joan sunk to the floor, sobbing, thin trails of blood running from her stomach. The water dissolved the red into unfolding petals of flowers across her pale skin before sliding into the drain.

What did she have to be embarrassed about?

She looked at herself in the mirror after getting out of the shower and asked herself this. What does she have that makes her so embarrassing? What does she have to hate?

She wasn’t overweight. She wasn’t obese. In most people’s terms, she was the normal example of thin. It was just her stomach, it wasn’t that bad, or that’s what they say.

  “You’re not even that big,” That’s because you haven’t seen her with her shirt off.

  “It’s just your stomach, it’s not even that bad,” But that’s what people see the most.

  “You aren’t fat so stop saying you are,” And she wished she could, but tell that to the insecurities rebounding inside of her head.

When she wears jeans, she has to pull the waistband up over her stomach or else she would be doing an impression of an English muffin for the entire day.

When she wears certain shirts, she has to suck in her stomach or else everyone will see the not-actual baby bump she’s sporting.

When people jokingly (or sometimes seriously) ask if she’s pregnant, she has to force herself to laugh along because if she shows that she’s offended they’ll pull out the “you’re not fat, you don’t know what it’s like, you have no right to be so whiny.”

When someone says they wished she had her body type, she has to act like it’s some worshiping compliment when really it just makes her feel guilty.

And she gets it, she does, she knows how hard it must be for actual overweight people, but goddamnit, when she heard someone point her body out so rudely, it was enough to destroy any confidence she had in herself.

She wanted to cut it all off. All of it. Until there’s nothing left but a gaping hole left in her abdomen from where her ugliness used to be.

If only.

------

Joan hadn’t expected not eating to be so goddamn hard. She only ate a few things a day, but having nothing at all was absolute torture. The fact that she couldn’t go twenty-four hours without food did not help her confidence in her weight or body, but it was also too much for her to handle. She /had/ to eat. She could find a different way to lose weight.

------

Exercise was a bust. Turns out she has really bad stamina. She threw up when she attempted to jog an entire trail. She walked the same trail the second time and still felt excruciating stitches in her side during the entire hike. And then she waterlogged herself and felt even sicker. AND THEN her legs were sore for days. She hated it.

------

When starving herself and jogging failed, Joan turned to the local gym. She bought herself a membership and went in with the most confidence she could muster. The first day, her foot slipped and she got her leg caught in the turning pedals of the bike machine. In her attempt to escape, she sprawled right out of the seat, screaming. She hasn’t gone back since.

------

Two weeks have passed since the incident at the restaurant. Joan was still thinking about it, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself. Anne’s words and the laughter that followed just kept rebounding through her skull.

Hunching over her work desk, Joan carefully felt her stomach. She hated how soft and pudgy it was, as if she were actually pregnant like how people liked to joke, but with a deflated baby. She poked the roll of fat and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her nails curled into the skin as her anger mounted.

Why did she have to look like this? 

She had rewatched the recordings of the Sunday Sessions and noticed how much her stomach stuck out. Had she always looked that fat? Why didn’t anyone say something? Were they laughing at her while the Live went on? Were they looking? God, she even looks awful in her overalls. If she can’t wear her overalls anymore, then what’s the point of anything?

Joan whimpered. She scratched harder at her belly.

Cut it off. Cut it all off. Make herself good, whole, pretty. People will like her more. She’ll finally have friends. Yes. Yes. Good.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Stinging pain streaked all across her poor tummy. Her fingernails were claws and she was marring herself.

Give them a reason to like her. Just don’t let them see what lies underneath. Just smile and be pretty and stay thin. Cut it off.

Joan wondered what would happen if she scratched too deep. What if her skin split open? She’s heard of evisceration that has happened like that, granted it usually wasn’t caused by excessive clawing because of body hatred. Would pulling out some of her organs make her thinner? Surely she didn’t need her large intestines /that/ much. It had it in its name- “large.” It’s too big. It takes up too much space in her. It’s definitely making her look so swollen and gross.

Pull it out

  “Joan?”

Joan’s hands froze. Her entire body froze. She swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes and cursing herself in her mind. Then, she’s wiping the tears from her face and turning to the queen in her doorway.

  “Yeah?” 

Jane peered at Joan curiously. Strangely, the usual annoyance in her gaze was missing. She even looked a little worried.

No, no-- Jane doesn’t care about her. Jane thought she was fat, just like everyone else.

  “Are you alright?” Jane asked.

  “What? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” Joan said. She forced a light laugh. “I was watching some animal videos. You know The Dodo? God, those always make me cry! Don’t tell the director, please? I don’t want him to think I’m slacking.”

Jane looked at her computer screen, which definitely did not have an animal video on it, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  “So, what did you need?” 

  “Oh, uh. Tim needs you. Something about lighting malfunction.” Jane said.

  “A music director’s work is never done,” Joan chuckled dryly. She got up and walked out into the hallway, Jane stepping back with her. When she closed the door, faint bloody smears were left on the knob.

She and Jane both noticed it, along with the blood on her fingertips, but neither said anything.

------

You lose weight when you’re stressed. You also gain weight when you’re stressed. The fact that Joan was worried that her costume was tighter than usual does not help the latter.

------

The costume was definitely tighter. Or maybe it was always this tight? NO, there’s no way… Well, whatever it is, it’s making the waistband cut uncomfortably into her belly when she sits down. But maybe it rupturing her organs from the tightness may not be so bad. The loss of mass inside of herself could help her lose weight.

------

Joan tried to not eat again. It’s working a little. She’s restraining herself well enough. But it’s awful, so awful. The hunger pains are the worst.

------

  “Joan?”

Joan turned to the doorway of her dressing room to see Aragon standing there. 

  “Yes?”

  “Are you almost done?” Aragon asked.

Joan furrowed her eyebrows at her paperwork. “No.”

  “Wonderful,” Aragon said. “Come on.”

Joan blinked. “What?”

  “Come on,” Aragon said again. “We’re going to my house for dinner.”

  “Wha-- But I said I had work?”

  “It doesn’t matter right now. Let’s go.”

Joan hesitated, then gathered her belongings and walked out with Aragon. If it weren’t for her undying loyalty to the queens and that she was kinda afraid of Aragon, she might have refused. Too late now, though.

  “What are we having?” Joan asked meekly on the drive to the queen’s house.

  “Lasagna,” Aragon answered. “And, no, before you ask, I’m not going to add every single existing spice into it.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe that Anne really thought that?”

That got a tiny giggle out of Joan. Aragon flashed her a quick smile, then focused on the road ahead of her.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I am a little,” Joan said, and that’s the moment her stomach decided to growl obviously loud. Her face flushed bright red and she wrapped her arms around her midsection as Aragon laughed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Aragon chuckled.

Joan remained flustered for the rest of the short car ride. And then she was just embarrassed when they pulled up to the queen’s house and realized she was going to have to eat in front of them again. She was already preparing herself for the humiliation.

Weirdly, though, the house was empty when they walked in.

  “Everyone is out eating,” Aragon said, catching Joan’s confused expression. “So it’ll just be us.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry you had to miss that.”

Aragon waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. It’s quite alright. Now come help me reheat this lasagna.”

Half an hour later, they were eating. Except Joan just stared at her plate, wringing her hands anxiously in her shirt. Her stomach was dying for the freshly made lasagna, but she really didn’t want to add the calories to her already thick body.

  “Joan? Aren’t you going to eat?” Aragon asked.

  “Oh, uhh-- I’m not that hungry, actually.” Joan said.

  “But I thought you were earlier?”

  “That was earlier.” 

And then Joan’s stomach growled. Redness enveloped her face as she hunched her shoulders in and looked at the floor. Aragon gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “Eat, honey. Please.”

So Joan does eat. She eats more than she actually wanted and after four plates she feels stuffed and sick- both physically and mentally.

  “You really were hungry, huh?” Aragon mused, picking up Joan’s plate. Joan whimpered below her. Instantly, her maternal instincts flared to life. “Joan?” She knelt beside the chair and set a hand on Joan’s back. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Joan sobbed. She looked up at Aragon and tears were rapidly streaming down her cheeks.

  “Oh, sweetheart… Come here.” Aragon pulled Joan into her arms and the girl slid off the chair to be enveloped in them. She noted that Joan didn’t hug back, rather kept her hands firmly gripping her stomach. Things were starting to fall into place. “Shh, shh… It’s alright, baby. It’s alright.”

  “No, no,” Joan shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s not, Catalina, I--” She practically screamed. “I hate myself so much.”

  “Joan…” Aragon helped Joan up so she could sit on the couch. The girl instantly curled into her upon sitting down. “Joan, honey, why? What’s wrong?”

  “I-I--” Joan cut herself off with a tight whine.

  “Is this about what Anne said?” Aragon asked.

Joan nodded with a feeble whimper.

Aragon looked absolutely enraged. “Goddamnit, that bitch--” She hissed. She pulled Joan against her firmly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. This has been eating you up, hasn’t it?”

Joan nodded again. “It’s--it’s all I’ve been thinking about. It’s been killing me, Catalina, it’s been killing me…” She sobbed into Aragon’s chest. “A-and I know it’s stupid because I’m not overweight, not really, so I don’t have the right to complain, b-but--”

  “Oh no. Don’t you dare.” Aragon pushed Joan back and cupped her tear-stained face, making the girl look her in the eye. “Don’t you dare say that, Joan. You have every right to feel the way you do. You can be upset if you want to, regardless of your body type. You can be tall or short, black or white, skinny or fat- it isn’t just overweight people who have body image issues. So don’t be guilty over that, honey.” She brushed some hair out of Joan’s face. “But just know that the things you are thinking are not true.”

Joan pulled away and shook her head. “They are.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach again.

  “They are not.” Aragon said. “Joan, you are not fat.”

  “Yes I am!” Joan cried. “Have you SEEN my stomach? I’m fat, Catalina! I’m fat and gross and--” She dissolved into tears again.

  “I have seen your stomach, Joan.” Aragon said gently. “Am I supposed to be disgusted by it?”

Joan nodded, not looking at Aragon.

  “Why?”

  “B-because,” Joan stammered. “It’s ugly…”

  “Honey, you are not ugly.” Aragon said. “You are anything but ugly. You are very, very beautiful.”

Joan answered with only a tiny, “mmmm.”

Aragon pulled Joan back into her arms. Joan curled into them, her head finding its spot on her chest.

  “I don’t care about what you look like, baby. You’ll always be beautiful in my eyes. Not ugly or fat.” Aragon said.

  “P-please don’t say I’m not fat,” Joan begged quietly. “I-I can’t-- I can’t believe you. Not right now. It’s too-- I--”

  “Shh,” Aragon pressed her head underneath her chin. “I understand, honey. But just know my opinion will never change about you. You will always be my perfect girl.”

Joan sniffled. “R-really?”

  “Really.” Aragon confirmed.

Joan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. She finally hugged Aragon back, practically burying herself against the queen.

  “I-I don’t know how long it’ll take,” Joan whispered. “For me to not see myself the way I do…”

  “That’s alright,” Aragon said. “I’ll be here helping you every step of the way.”

  “Thank you.” Joan nuzzled into Aragon’s warmth. She winced when her stomach cramped. “I think I ate too much…”

  “Oh, my poor baby,” Aragon cooed. She lowered one hand and rubbed comforting circles against Joan’s belly. “I used to do this with Elizabeth, you know. She was such a fussy girl.” She chuckled. “Don’t tell her I told you that.”

Joan giggled. “Your secret is safe with me.” She leaned her head against Aragon’s chest and relaxed into the feeling gliding across her full stomach. “I can see why she liked this, though.”

  “Oh yeah?” Aragon smiled at her. “I’ll have to see if she still does, then. Ha, she would be so red!”

Another giggle. “She’d kill you.”

  “I’d like to see her try.”

Joan smiled slightly. Her hatred for her own body was still clouding her mind, and she knew she was going to continue to have problems over it in the near future, but it suddenly felt like they would be easier to deal with. She had someone who loved her, who thought she was perfect and beautiful, regardless of what she or her stomach looked like. 

Well. At least there was one good thing about having a soft, chubby tummy. More room to get belly rubs.

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 challenge 21 and 22 - Undercover and Red Sand

Summary: Alistair Shepard’s back at it at Krispy Kreme when a contact informs him about red sand on the Citadel. So... how easy is it to get into Chora’s Den when you’re wearing OTT Sweet? He’s about to find out...

---

Nothing like showing C-SEC up by blowing the lid off their latest red sand problem. If only it hadn't wound him up in interrogation.

“Alright, Commander... I can understand a Spectre shutting this down... but how?”

Alistair shrugged as he shifted his weight so the uneven chair didn't bother him. They had one main way of dealing with suspects, even the ones who had helped them out. Unlucky for them, he understood physics. After all, they drummed the basics into recruits during boot camp. Chairs could eat his ass – ironic, considering he was sitting.

“Well, I heard rumor of it, so I investigated and found out what was going on. The rest was easy with my squad.”

The C-SEC agent looked almost incredulous as they glanced at him from across the table. “And... how did you do that? We've been working to get someone in for months.”

“Oh... I went undercover.”

“Undercover?”

And here was the time to get creative. He couldn't give ALL his methods away. Besides, no way such a straight-laced C-SEC agent was going to believe this.

“Commander Shepard, it's been a long time since we've worked together. How are you doing?”

Alice was looking good. He still wasn't sure why they were meeting on the Citadel like this, however. Good thing he had brought her things along to return, otherwise he would've had to mail it the next time he was in port.

Ah, the life of a wandering Spectre. Never in one place long.

He sipped at his tea before he answered. It was good tea – strawberry. He liked strawberry, good to know she did too. It went with her outfit more than his, mind you – today's coord was OTT in pink and white. Not a bad look on her, definitely different than the mint-chocolate number in the bags by his side.

“As well as can be expected. I hope you haven't been bothered by anyone since I dealt with the Blue Suns.”

She smiled at him as she took a dainty nibble at a biscuit. “Not at all. Things have been quite peaceful, actually.”

That was great... but it didn't explain why he was sitting in a lovely little cafe, drinking tea with his sister's friend. There was something she was going to ask him, and he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it much.

Maybe he should've just done it by text... it would've been easier to say no.

In the pause, Alice took another sip of her tea and daintily put the cup down without making a sound. Her eyes were on him, burning not with desperation, but determination. Something about that made his stomach shift, yet at the same time... well, curiosity didn't just get the cat. Sometimes it got hamster-handling Spectres.

“In the time since then, I've become aware of something on the Citadel. I come here every so often to shop. Omega unfortunately leans a little too Classic for my taste, though I do believe that it would be the perfect style for you-”

Nope. Taako was good out here, to quote the old 21st century classic.

“Anyway... during one of my trips, I happened to catch whispers of something when I stopped for a refreshment. I believe you know what red sand is, Commander Shepard?”

His eyebrow zoomed to his hairline. “How does red sand come up among lolitas?”

Alice put a hand to her mouth to hide her chuckle. “Why, it doesn't. When did I say I only associate among lolitas?”

Yeah... that was his mistake. Still, his mind was wheeling. If Alice had heard mention of red sand on the Citadel... just the thought of it made his stomach turn. It was the sort of thing she definitely shouldn't be around...

And he sure as hell shouldn't. After all, as a biotic that shit fucked him up six ways to Sunday.

“At any rate, I tried to contact the proper authorities about it. They laughed at me and dismissed it as ramblings of a little girl with an active imagination.” She sniffed. “Ignoring the fact my ID says I am almost 30, by the way.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, they're a real crack squad.”

“Which is why I came to you. You know my information is real, and more importantly, you are a Spectre.” She took a sip of her tea. “You can get to places that C-SEC cannot.”

Both of these facts were true. Still, he didn't see why they needed to meet in person. For something like this, all he really needed was an email. More than that, Alice had the same tone she had used the first time she had asked him for a favor.

You know... when he wound up in the dress in the bag he was currently holding.

“Right, but... why do I get the feeling this is going to involve a petticoat again?”

When Alice smiled, there was nothing friendly about it. “I may have neglected to mention when I was in this establishment, I may have slipped to my acquaintance that a friend of mine was a gorgeous petite blonde with blue eyes and a taste in OTT sweet...”

Alistair's cheeks turned scarlet. “You set me up again?!”

“Well, you did it so well the last time...” her voice dropped. “Please, Commander. I know you know the danger of red sand. I heard about your accomplishment on Illium with the Justicar. C-SEC refused to believe me, and I know this was true. You need to investigate this for the good of every biotic in the Citadel.”

She had made a grab for his hand with this, her eyes shifting from crafty to pure pleading. Part of him wanted to believe this was an act... yet the gaze she was giving him was downright desperate. Alistair felt his resolve dropping away as he glanced down at the bags.

Good thing he had made sure these were properly cleaned and ironed...

“Where do I have to go?”

Alice smiled as she poured him more tea. “Have you ever heard of a bar called Chora's Den?”

“Yeah, I almost got shot there twice.” His voice was flat, his eyebrow even higher. “A lolita at Chora's Den is going to stick out.”

His contact chuckled as she reached for a biscuit. “That's the point, Commander. Now, you're going to need to be there by 22:00-”

Why did he get the feeling he was going to regret this...

---

“Commander, are you ready?”

Yes, he just needed to fix his petticoat.

Alistair had never expected to wear one ever again, and yet there he was. Apart from some new accessories borrowed from Alice to help with the change in fashion and season, it was the same damn dress, petticoat, and wig he had worn the last time.

The purse was different, though. Made hiding his gun and a few other tools easier should he need it.

“I'm ready, Alice, just had to make sure everything was sitting right.”

The line for Chora's Den was short that night as he approached with quick, even steps. The second time in rocking horse shoes was easier, not that he had practiced for the occasion or anything. He was just more confident this time as he made his way to the entrance. After all, this wasn't his first rodeo.

“Now, I told them my friend's name was Jane. You can fill occupation and hobbies in yourself, just remember that we met at Baby the Stars Shine Bright's store on the Citadel.”

He knew that brand – it was a classic. Not quite OTT due to the prestige of being one of the cores of lolita fashion, but it was famous. Hell, he'd watched Kamikaze Girls the first time he'd been preparing for a mission like this. A brand only lasted that long through staying power and appeal. It wasn't quite to his taste, but he could see how it had made it to the late 22nd century.

…

And now he was forming opinions on clothing brands. Shit. He was getting way too into this undercover work.

“Right... thanks for the ad-lib room.”

“Bo said you were an expert at it. Now, I'll let you know when I see them. This contact camera is amazing, did you really design it yourself?”

Alistair had to resist a chuckle as he waited in line, pretending like he was taking a call on his omni-tool. “Oh no, it was a customization of an existing design that didn't quite meet my needs. I could show you the fabric when I get back tomorrow.”

Alice was a smart woman – she caught on quick. “Impressive. Is this what working what a Spectre is like?”

Oh, she should see him when he had tech in his hands. That's when the magic happened. His contact cam was just a fruit of that effort from having to go undercover one too many times. After all, he could hardly rely on cameras where he went half the time. It was better to have one on hand that was constantly being saved to his hard drive on his computer back on the Normandy. There was also a backup version Alice would have, and a second version on his omni-tool. You could never have enough backups in case things went wrong.

Some might call him paranoid. They could kiss his ass, he had died once before – you could never be too careful.

“Excuse me, sweetheart, I think you're lost. The Tea Room is up a ways.”

There was a man leering at him. The outfit had definitely turned him off, so his only reaction to what he perceived a woman was scorn and minimizing. Alistair had seen this plenty of times before, and dealt with younger versions in his teens. Luckily, it didn't bother him.

So he shot them a blank, dignified look down the bridge of his nose as he walked past. “I do believe the line is back there. Chora's Den isn't fond of nobody line cutters last I checked.”

The man's friends laughed as he sputtered. Naturally, an assault to his identity would prompt a desire to beat the shit out of the one who had caused it. The question is, would he go after someone in a dress and petticoat?

Looks like the answer was yes – he was leaning forward.

“Why  you little-”

With a swift movement, he had the man off balance and knocked on his ass. Then he kicked as a reminder to stay down. It wasn't hard enough to hurt anything seriously – just well aimed. It left his annoyance groaning on the floor.

He gave the friend group a blank look as he kept walking. “I would advise keeping your friend on a leash. I think he's in heat.”

Then he entered Chora's Den under the eye of a more than amused bouncer and with the chorus of a bunch of already drunk men. They were quickly drowned out by the music of the club and the energy that surrounded it.

It looked a little different since Fist had been running it. Cleaner maybe, though probably just as corrupt. There were still dancers of various council species, and those who enjoyed watching. These he gave a wide berth, making his way to the bar. This was the same person- he hadn't seen their body when they had cleared the place out. Smart woman.

“Nice going with the guy out front, honey.” She gave him an appreciative nod. “Saw it on the cams. What can I get you?”

He smiled, carefully. “Please tell me you have some form of sprite here. I don't exactly drink, but I'm here to meet someone.”

The bartender laughed as she reached under the bar. “Last time I heard that, Commander Shepard was still on his first life. It's why I carry the stuff. Here, I call this the Red Shepard. It's got a little grenadine in it for color.”

…

Apparently, there were drinks named after him in bars. Who knew? At least it seemed to be the designated driver special. He was happy to accept, though when he tried to pay she shook her head. Part of him was worried it was his borrowed credit chit, but then she smiled.

“You did us a favor, honey. The bouncer almost threw out his shoulder tossing him out. Drinks are on the house tonight.”

Well, that was good for him. He smiled and went off to find a place to sit so Alice could get a view of the floor. Though the music was loud, his ear piece had a noise blocking feature he was more than happy to turn on. When it came down to it, he just didn't like night clubs. Add in the dancers and he liked them even less.

If they were dudes... well... he probably would've been too embarrassed to stay long.

“See anybody yet, Alice?”

“No, but your performance outside the Den was impressive. Was that aikido?”

He smiled as he sipped at his drink. “I picked it up in basic because I was smaller than everyone else and got tired of getting my ass kicked.”

“A friend of mine learned judo for the same reason.”

Good to know someone else was kicking ass on the small side. Alistair raised his glass in tribute as he took a careful sip. He had needed the sugar anyway – he had started to feel a little shaky after walking in. Low blood sugar was fun like that.

As he waited for his blood sugar to raise as Alice looked around, he took the chance to glance around Chora's Den without moving his head. They had definitely cleaned the place since Fist had run the place. They probably had to – his squad had left more than a few bodies and bullet holes when they were breaking out to go rescue Tali. He could still remember where he had almost collided with a wall running after Bo to make sure everything was alright.

She had left quite the trail of destruction. It was kind of impressive. Good they had fixed it in the two years since he had been dead, though.

“Commander, the target is approaching you now. Play nice.”

Alistair picked up his head as he took another sip of his drink. There was indeed someone approaching his table. Surprisingly, they weren't wearing a coord. Instead, he would have said they were any normal resident of the Wards.

Which of course, meant nothing. Out of uniform he looked like any random twink with a minor obsession with hamsters.

“Jane, is it?”

Right, that was his code name. He gave his best cordial smile, much like he had seen Alice give, and nodded. The person in front of him smiled as well as they took the seat across from them, already carrying a drink in their hand.

Theirs was definitely alcoholic – it was making his damn eyes water.

“It's so good to finally meet you...” he trailed off. “Forgive me, Alice didn't give me your name.”

They answered a little too quickly – someone was eager. “It's Rax. I was a little worried you weren't going to show up. Chora's Den is kinda rough, I'm still surprised Alice comes here when she's on the Citadel.”

People were just full of surprises, weren't they?

Alistair took another sip of his drink as he gave Rax the once over. While he didn't see any tattoos for the major gangs, the lean muscle and scarred hands suggested they were into something. Part of him would have considered undercover C-SEC, but they were obvious from a mile away. Garrus had taught him to to tell them anyway. So this guy was probably either a low level merc striking out on their own, or they were from a third party gang trying to muscle in on the big three.

Poor sap. They'd be lucky if they survived the year.

“So... why don't you tell me about yourself? Alice played this close to the corset I'm afraid.”

They were already stammering as they swallowed half their drink in one impressive gulp that dribbled down their chin. Gross. At least Alistair was a master of keeping it off his face as he kept the camera trained on his target. C-SEC might need this data later after they wiped the egg off their faces.

“Oh uh... nothing special. I just do some work locally.” Another sip – someone was nervous. “How about you? Alice says you're not on the Citadel much?”

He shook his head carefully, taking another sip. “No, my work takes me off the station frequently. I work for a small organization doing research on how the various council species construct clothing.”

“Makes sense, what with how you dress and all.” They obviously then bit their tongue. “Sorry, just... don't see a lot of women like you on the Citadel.”

Alistair chuckled much like Alice would as he played with the straw of his drink. “Oh, I'm not that rare.  We just keep to different places on the Wards.”

Why did he get the feeling Rax would love nothing more than to know where those areas were? While he wasn't exactly a member of the subculture, he could tell someone trying to scratch an itch when he saw it. The guy was kind of pathetic, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. A little more charismatic, and maybe he'd be concerned.

Then again, he was just pumping the guy for info.

“Oh... m-makes sense I guess. I mostly stay down here.”

The Spectre in disguise took another sip of his drink, careful to monitor the level. “What kind of work do you do? You look strong... C-SEC, maybe?”

The person in front of him snorted into their way too strong drink. “C-SEC is a fucking joke, Jane. They're just glorified pencil pushers sweeping the Citadel over.”

While this was true... maybe he could lean into this to get somewhere. Alistair nodded along as he played with his straw again. It was easy to see Rax was watching his every move. Maybe it was a good thing he had painted his nails for this...

It was the little touches that made the role worth it.

“Sounds like you get into some dangerous things, Rax.” He smiled, leaning in. “That's kind of exciting.”

Rax grinned, but there was nothing friendly about it as they lowered their voice. “Oh, you could say that. C-SEC doesn't even know I exist. Those idiots keep pinning my shit on other small time idiots. It's really clearing the market for me.”

Man, he must have been drunk to let go this easily. That, or he was puffing himself up. Alistair wasn't sure right then as he started putting the pieces together. With dealers, he could never tell. Usually they weren't too friendly with him... but that was when he was in armor.

So he lowered his voice again. “Market? Do you mean like... drugs?”

“Oh, I got something better than that, Jane.” Rax was so close that Alistair could smell their breath – gross. “You ever heard of red sand?”

“There, you have them! Pump them for information!”

Alice was getting excited, but the Spectre remained calm as he took a small sip of his drink. Every motion he made was deliberate, due in part to the fact he knew he was being watched. Rax's body language was screaming some rather lascivious things to say the least. Sadly, they weren't Alistair's type.

He liked his merc on the good guys's side.

“Red sand... that's that stuff that makes you biotic, right?”

Rax nodded as they drained their drink. “For a bit. I have a guy who supplies me from Ilium. C-SEC still thinks it's coming from Omega, the fucking morons!”

Yeah, they were... but now Alistair needed to find out where he was keeping it. Oh, he was going to regret this part... but it was what he needed to do. Luckily, he had a gun in his purse and a well-modified omni-tool to put up kinetic armor should he have the need.

So he smiled, finishing his drink. “Sounds thrilling. Skirting the law, working with that kind of material. You live an exciting life.”

“You don't know the half of it, Jane.” They looked at both empty drinks on the table. “Say... looks like both of us are out. I got something a little better at my place. It's not far if you want to come with... I can walk slow for you.”

Alistair smiled as he stood, straightening his skirt as he did. “Maybe you can tell me a little more about your exciting life while you're there. I've never tried... you know...”

He looked away, willing his face to blush. It was hard to do it on command, but it gave him a chance to look through his altered eyelashes. Rax was watching him, looking as though they had just won the world series.

Too bad they wasn't getting lucky tonight.

“Well, I think I could give you a taste.” They held out their arm. “Follow me, then. This place was getting a little too loud anyway.”

The pair were soon leaving Chora's Den, walking out of the club entirely. The bartender gave Alistair a concerned look, but when Rax wasn't looking he winked and patted his purse, briefly showing the outline. Then she shook her head, but smiled anyway.

It was short walk, like the merc had said. This part of the Wards was pretty run down, just like the Spectre remembered it. Luckily, they were heading for a small group of ramshackle warehouses. Honestly, it was just the place he expected someone to hide red sand.

Still... talk about keeping it right under C-SEC's nose. If Rax hadn't been so horny for a pretty face in a long skirt, they might've pulled it off longer.

“Here's my little piece of heaven.” Rax's smile turned to a smirk as they nudged Alistair closer to the door. “So uh... how about we get to know each other a little better? It's gonna be hard to do this in such a big skirt a-”

Alistair was all smiles as his eyes glowed bright blue and pinned his target against the wall. “Yes, I do believe it's going to be a little hard to do this if you keep trying to undress me with your mind. Now, about the red sand?”

Now it was going to get fun... he had plenty of sugar to work off from that Red Shepard. Might as well put it to use.

Poor Rax. All they had wanted to do was get laid. They had even been nice about it. Sadly, that's what happened when you tried to fuck a Spectre pumping you for info.

---

“So you went undercover in Chora's Den and wound up meeting with the middleman.”

Alistair nodded as he finished his compacted story. The C-SEC agent still looked incredulous, but he had filled in the needed pieces. Naturally, he had kept out the parts about him being in a dress, but they were more window dressing anyway.

“Yep. They showed me the warehouse, I restrained them when they made a move against me. Then you guys showed up.”

Turns out Rax had been sitting on a small mountain of red sand, enough to really fuck some people up. They were still working on locating their supplier, but Alistair had a feeling they had long since cut and run. After all, there hadn't been nearly enough to strike out as a solo dealer. More likely, they were just holding for someone more powerful.

But... that was one supply cut off he supposed.

“Well... you managed to clear up a red sand smuggling ring we had previously thought was connected to Omega. Not to mention a few assaults, a missing person, and a possible murder.” The C-SEC agent looked rather sheepish. “You uh... you do good work, Shepard.”

Alistair smiled as he rose. “Thank you. Can I get going, though? I need to get back to the Normandy. They kind of can't take off without me.”

“Oh uh... sure. If we hear anything else, we'll let you know...”

With that, Alistair took his leave of the station. As he did, he walked past the office of a few other officers. From the looks of things, they were clearing the cases he had managed to bust open for them with a few hours work.

Not a bad job for a Spectre.

“I don't get it... are you sure that's what she said?”

“Yeah, bartender at Chora's Den said a woman in a green, puffy dress with blonde hair was seen leaving with Rax. Nobody's seen her since.”

And then he was walking a little faster. After all, he had a ship to get back to, and a lot of questions he didn't want to answer. Besides, he had a dress he needed to iron and return once it was back to pristine condition.

He was definitely returning it this time. No more cross-dressing...

…

At least not in this dress. Green wasn't really his color, and Alice probably wanted it back. Maybe he should...

Fuck. Now this was a road he didn't want to go down.

[tlbodine]

Pandemic and Pandemonium: Sickness in Horror

Well, it’s official: Novel Coronavirus, COVID-19, has been declared a pandemic -- ie, a new and widespread infectious disease actively infecting people throughout the world. For most of us currently alive, this is the first time we’ve seen a pandemic. It’s certainly the first time any of us have seen the kind of city-wide or country-wide quarantine measures currently being employed. 

It’s an anxiety-inducing situation for sure. And people are dealing with that fear in different ways. Some folks are hoarding bottled water and toilet paper. Some folks are checking the news compulsively. Some folks are finding 20-second-long songs to sing while washing their hands. 

And some of us are looking for horror fiction that might just mirror our anxieties and give a momentary but welcome catharsis. 

Germs have existed since, well...the beginning of life as we know it. And for as long as humans have been alive, we’ve sometimes gotten sick from these microscopic invaders. It’s just a part of being alive. Everything gets sick sometimes, and humans -- who live in large complex groups and have a lot of casual contact day-by-day -- get sick a lot. 

There’s a lot to fear from widespread illness: 

Germs are invisible to the eye, so you can’t necessarily see the threat coming for you

Because infection is carried from person to person, mistrust and even hostility can grow toward people who appear ill (whether or not they really are sick)

Controlling the spread of disease often requires social isolation and can invite a loss of rights (ie, confinement)

The disease itself can have terrifying effects, from gross symptoms to death 

If enough people get sick, it can disrupt the machinery of society, causing problems with food, electricity, healthcare, law enforcement, you name it. 

Now, in real life, things don’t usually get that bad, especially in modern times when we have advanced healthcare and science and great communication. History’s greatest pandemics, from the Black Death (bubonic plague) of Europe in the 1300s to smallpox in the US in the 1700s to the worldwide Spanish Flu epidemic in the early 1900s, have been devastating -- but obviously, humanity has survived them all, and the numbers have been less terrible each time. With the power of antibiotics and vaccines and anti-virals and advanced medical interventions, we can save a lot of lives. 

But we can’t save all of them -- which is why anxiety still lingers, and why stories about pestilence remain compelling. 

The Magic of Fictional Viruses 

When it comes to fictional illness, viruses usually end up in the spotlight. Some of the nastiest diseases in history have been bacterial infections -- Bubonic Plague, syphilis, typhoid, tuberculosis. Now that we have antibiotics, these once-deadly illnesses are essentially wiped from the modern consciousness. 

But viruses are trickier. We have not yet developed a singular treatment as effective against all viruses as antibiotics are against bacteria. Instead, we rely on vaccines to immunize us against them. But vaccines are individualized, working only for the specific disease they’ve been developed to treat -- and if a new virus pops up, it takes time to craft the response against it. 

Viruses also function in ways that make them especially attuned for horror: 

They are smaller and less complex than other microorganisms, and it’s debatable if they are even, strictly speaking, alive.

Their only method of reproduction is by invading a cell and injecting it with its own genetic material; viruses cannot reproduce without a living host.

Because they reproduce quickly and rely on their host cells, viruses can swiftly mutate and change 

Some people can be carriers, able to spread the virus without ever knowing that they’re sick or showing any symptoms 

It’s little wonder then that viruses in fiction can cause all kinds of things -- zombies, werewolves, insanity, infertility, even turning your body to stone. In modern horror fiction, viruses often fulfill the role previously occupied by magical curses. 

Horror Recommendations for Disease Fiction 

With a global pandemic currently active, the CDC is recommending that people self-isolate whenever possible -- working from home, avoiding large crowds, and abstaining from touching people. So do your part to protect yourself and the vulnerable people around you by staying home and watching movies or reading a book instead. Here are some thematic lists. 

“Realistic” Contagion Stories

If you’d like to watch a tense medical thriller rooted at least partly in realism, try one of these: 

Outbreak - A california town is quarantined to stop the spread of an Ebola-like virus.

Contagion - A woman brings home a deadly virus that triggers a quarantine, complete with social upheaval and looting.

Pontypool - A radio disc jockey reports on a dire, apocalyptic pandemic while in isolation in Ontario

Containment - A TV series about a city that falls under a quarantine to prevent the spread of an Ebola-like disease; it's partly medical drama, partly commentary on social conflict

Apocalyptic Stories 

Curious about what happens after the fall of mankind? So are a lot of authors and filmmakers. 

The Last Man - Did you know Mary Shelley wrote an apocalypstic novel about a world-ending epidemic as a way to process grief about her husband's death?

The Stand - Perhaps Stephen King's greatest epic, the book details the fall of civilization as we know it and its brutal, power-struggle-fueled rebuilding in the wake of a devastating flu.

Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood conceived of a trilogy of near-future dystopia focused on genetic engineering, a plague, and the horrors of technology. Start with this one and read all three if it grips you.

I Am Legend - Richard Matheson's short novel is often adapted, but you can't beat the original. A plague novel, a zombie novel and a vampire novel all rolled into one.

It Comes At Night - A story of isolation following a deadly outbreak, and also a question of sanity and the choices people make in difficult positions. (full disclosure: I didn’t like this movie much, but it’s very well-reviewed so you might like it more) 

Weird Chaos Viruses 

I’ve talked about zombies before at great length, so I won’t recommend anymore traditional zombie tales -- just go read my other list for those recommendations! But sometimes apocalypses come by not-quite-zombies, so let’s talk about those: 

Bird Box - The novel by Josh Malerman or the film starring Sandra Bullock, take your pick. Both are about a woman trying to survive in a world torn asunder by a an eldritch evil that drives you to madness if you see it.

The Happening - One of M. Night Shyamalan's more ridiculous films, but one I can't help but guiltily enjoy. An unexplained event drives people to commit suicide (in increasingly ridiculous ways), creating a world-threatening pandemic.

The Crazies - The original 1973 film and the 2010 remake both deal with an outbreak of a bizarre illness that causes people to go, uh, crazy. In a murder way.

Cabin Fever - Eli Roth’s directorial debut, this is a classic gross-out film franchise about a flesh-eating virus that chews its way through a bunch of young campers. 

Dreamcatcher - Basically exactly the plot of Cabin Fever, except with aliens and some It cross-over cosmic horror. A decent Stephen King novel and a fun, if cringey, film, take your pick. 

Mimic - A sci-fi approach involving cockroaches, genetic engineering, and bad ideas. Did you know this was co-written and directed by Guillermo del Toro and was the first Norman Reedus movie? 

Cold Storage - A wonderfully gross debut novel by David Koepp featuring mind-controlling fungus. 

The Troop  - Nick Cutter’s gross-out novel is billed as “28 Days Later meets Lord of the Flies” which is basically everything you need to know. Monstrous tapeworms + boyscouts = bad times for all. 

The Thing - A research team encounters a terrible alien parasite in an isolated frozen wasteland. 

Historical Horror

The Black Death is one of the oldest, best-known, most-historically-significant illnesses in the Western world, so lots of people have told stories about it -- but it’s not the only epidemic in town. If you prefer your disease horror with a side of history, try one of these: 

Black Death - Not a great movie, but it has Sean Bean and Eddie Redmayne and some exceptional gore, so it gets a vote just for that. It’s not about the plague so much as it’s about witchcraft, but it fits. 

The Masque of the Red Death - One of Edgar Allan Poe’s finest stories, in my opinion. You can read this online in multiple places if you don’t have a Poe collection handy, and there’s a lot of audio and short films for it too so take your pick. 

Love in the Time of Cholera - Like it says on the tin, this is a book about life and love and a cholera epidemic. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a masterful writer, so this is well worth picking up for the quality of prose and storytelling alone.

The Plague - Part social commentary, part plague story, this Albert Camus novel is heavy on philosophy, if you’re into that sort of thing. 

Cabin Fever and Isolation 

A lot of the stories already mentioned touch on themes of isolation, quarantine, and cabin fever, but if you’re staring down the long barrel of social distancing and want more stories about going crazy in enclosed spaces, consider adding: 

The Shining  - The Stephen King novel and the Stanley Kubrick film are both excellent in their own ways, and I recommend both. A family makes the unwise decision to stay alone in a haunted hotel through a long snowed-in winter. It ends badly. 

Devil - However bad your life is, it’s probably not as bad as being trapped in an elevator with the literal devil, which is the premise of this film. 

The Cabin at the End of the World -- You didn’t think I’d write about apocalypse scenarios without finding a chance to plug my favorite Paul Tremblay novel, did you? Part home invasion, part psychological horror, part cosmic apocalypse, 100% terrifying. 

Now, go forth and enjoy many a movie night, or curl up and treat yourself. Social distancing never felt so deliciously spooky ;) 

[noxxy-boxxy]

Hetabang time!

So, it’s finally te time to upload this! I’ve been waiting for this moment lmao

I wrote this and my amazing partner did a drawing of the last scene, but they haven’t posted it yet so imma wait till they do and tag them! 

Edit: Here is the artwork! 

https://aph-florida-shitposts.tumblr.com/post/616694960857710592/they-my-peice-for-the-hetabang-art-thing It’s made by @aph-florida-shitposts The artis amazing and everyone should go and check it out, period.

The meeting ended sooner that day. Thank God. 

Gilbert grabbed his laptop and his briefcase, stretching his neck until it popped. It was Friday, finally, and that meant a lot of things. It meant beer, a nice dinner, some of that leftover cake, and the best part:

"Gilbert! Buongiorno!" 

He could invite him for dinner. He could finally invite Italy for dinner and ask him that thing. 

"Hey, little Italy! Guten morgen!" He smiled, his heart almost doing a cartwheel when Feliciano kissed his cheeks. "What are you doing here? You're going to miss your flight." Even after saying that, Feliciano sat on the table, and Gilbert did the same, not interested If he missed his own. 

"I was looking for you." Said the Italian, and God, if he didn't die at that moment, he really had to be a tough one. His pale face took a very slight shade of pink, invisible to Italy. 

"Oh, so you were searching for me?" Gilbert said, his speech still perfect, his tone normal, but his face warming. Slow but steady. 

"Yes, I wanted to ask you something." Gilbert arched an eyebrow, blinking once or twice. 

«Keep it cool.» He thought, panicking internally. "Oh, yeah, whatever you want, little Italy. I'm all ears." And, to be honest, he didn't expect that much, but surely he didn't see that one coming.

"Can you help me with my paperwork?" 

Oh God, Italy was lucky he liked him. He wouldn't waste his weekend explaining paperwork to anybody, but him. He was the only exception. 

But now, he surely was going to be talking about boring numbers, when they could be having a delicious dinner and a delicious dessert. Amazing. 

Unless. 

"Come with me. We can stay together at my house and I can explain to you how I do my paperwork." He smiled, petting the Italian's head. "Then, we can have dinner together. I'll make some homemade pasta for you and we can have cake at the end." And that was the exact way to convince Italy. Gilbert smiled softly, seeing Italy jump from one place to another while he sang some song. "Okay, okay. Chill, Kleine. Don't hurt yourself." Italy stopped and grabbed his hand, tangling his fingers with his own. 

"I would love that, Gilbert!" He smiled widely, so beautifully. "Oh, Gil, you're red. Is something wrong?" 

"Uh, nothing..."

They were kneading the dough, and Gilbert was amazed at the way Italy did it. His movements were perfectly fluent, his voice hummed a soft song, his eyes half-open. He stopped for a second, pinching the dough slightly. 

"It's ready to stretch and cut." Prussia nodded, and then, they began to stretch the dough, making it thinner. Over, and over, and over again, until Feliciano felt like it was perfect. Then, they passed it through the cutter, making perfect spaghetti. 

"Perfect." Said Prussia, bringing a tray with flour. "It's ready to cook." Italy nodded, looking incredibly happy. They both went to the kitchen, where the water in the pot was already boiling. Italy added some salt, and then, the pasta. 

"It should be ready in two or three minutes. Could you check the sauce?" Gilbert nodded, and went to another pot, opening it and grabbing some sauce with a spoon. He tasted it, the flavor lingering in his mouth. It was absolutely... 

"Delicious." He said, smiling widely. "It's delicious." Feliciano smiled, looking at him, small little face so adorable. He wanted to take a picture, no jokes. Gilbert covered the pot, seeing how his hand trembled, feeling his throat tightening. «Everything is going to be okay.» He had to say to himself. 

And he really hoped it would be. 

"Well, I think it's ready to drain." He nodded, getting closer. Italy was holding a fork, where one string of pasta sat. "Could you taste it, Gil?" And he extended his hand, offering him not the fork, but the food. He had to stop a second, trying to gain control of his face, to avoid that God damned red. He got even closer, eating the spaghetti from his hand. 

"It's ready." He said, tasting it. It had the right amount of salt, and it wasn't incredibly soft, but a little bit chewy. It was perfect.

Italy drained it and put it in the same pot with the sauce. he moved it around with a pair of tweezers, and then, it was perfectly ready to eat. 

"Let's go. I'm hungry." Italy smiled, grabbing a bottle of wine and a bottle of beer. Prussia nodded, grabbing the pot. 

"So, did you understand that thing about your paperwork?" Italy nodded, smiling and grabbing his glass of wine. 

"Yes, thanks." He smiled, taking a sip of wine. "You're a very good teacher, Gil." 

"Oh, ask West or America, they'll probably have something else to say." He laughed. "I am a good teacher, indeed," he started, grabbing his bottle. "but I am not going soft on anyone. You're just a special case. Usually, I would be more strict and rude with any other. Only for you." And Gilbert smiled softly, booping the Italian's nose, making him laugh.

"I like you a lot, Gil!" He smiled, and Gilbert definitely felt something jump in his chest. 

"Ah, yea, ja." He mumbled, looking away. "Actually, little Italy... Feliciano" He whispered, taking a big breath. "I like you too. I like you a lot." And Italy didn't even flinch. 

"Yeah! Me too, Gil! You're an amazing friend!" Oh, no. 

"No, dearest. I mean, uh, I like you, like, more than a friend. I like you a lot more." 

"Like a best friend, then! You're my best friend!" And Gilbert rolled his eyes, but Italy kept talking before he could explain himself. "I wouldn't change you as my best friend for anything in the world! You'll always be the best friend I could ever have, and I hope nothing ruins our friendship!" For God's sake, Gilbert thought, almost speaking again. 

Unless... 

"You... Wouldn't want me to be anything more than... Your best friend? Only... That?" He said, his voice normal, but something was cracking. "Not even-"

"Always friends!" Italy interrupted him. 

Then, he understood. Italy was understanding what he really wanted to say, but he surely didn't want to reject him. He just wanted him to... Catch the cue. He only wanted him as a friend. 

He only wanted him as a friend. 

"O-oh, yeah. Always... F-friends." He whispered, forcing that painful sensation at the back of his throat. Not yet. "I should take you to the airport so you can go back, Italy. You're going to miss your flight." He said, getting up and grabbing his keys and his helmet. He went to the garage, putting the key at the contact on his motorcycle. "Move, Italy! We don't have all the time in the world!" His words sounded a lot ruder and mean, like if he was tired or angry. Obviously, Italy got scared, and just followed the orders. The garage door opened with the controller, and they went out. Suddenly, Italy had to hold himself again Gilbert, because hell, they were going 100 kph, and it was just rising. They arrived at the airport in 3 minutes, when usually it would take 15. 

"Let’s go." And as soon as they were on the ground they were running. Or well, he was almost running. Gilbert was just walking. Incredibly quickly. Gilbert had to buy the tickets for him because obviously, the people spoke German.

"Here. Have this." Italy grabbed the tickets with one hand, while he grabbed his document and passport from his briefcase with the other. 

"Is everything alright, Gil?" He literally had to take a step back when Prussia looked at him. His eyes were glowing. 

"I don't allow my own brother to call me by my name, Italy. You don't have that privilege either." He deadpanned. 

But... Italy wasn't dumb. At least, not when it came to feelings. Even if Prussia was "angry", he saw sadness. In his face, those eyes were not glowing, they were shining.

"Gilbert..." He whispered, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but at that second, his flight was announced. Prussia didn't even say goodbye, he just left. 

His eyes were shining, yes. And he swore, he saw a tear leaving his left eye. 

«Is he sad?"

Gilbert went back to his house calmly. He entered and started washing the dishes. The leftover spaghetti was poured in a container and stored in the fridge, with the forgotten cake. Then, he went to the table, grabbing his bottle of beer. It was half full, but in a second, he drank the rest. The wine was stored in the fridge, and the glass... He literally spent half an hour looking at it, trying to go back in time, when he bought that glassware, the moment when he grabbed it from the counter, just some hours ago. That moment, when they were still friends. 

His knuckles turned white, and in a quick movement, he threw the glass against the floor, turning it to just useless shards. Panting, he kneeled at its side, slowly picking up the pieces, just hissing when one of them cut his finger. 

Wine stung, but the tears falling were even more painful. 

The meeting was in Berlin that day. Ironically.

"He didn't come today..." Whispered Italy, looking at the German's seat, unoccupied. In his place, Germany entered, even when he was, technically, on vacation. Apparently, though, he was not there for the meeting, because he wore just civilian clothes. 

"Italy." He said, looking at him. "Can we talk? Please?" Italy nodded, concerned. He looked slightly sad but he looked mad too. Something surely had to be going around the Germanic countries. "What happened last Sunday, Italy? When I came back, Prussia was devastated. And I mean, really, sad."

"I knew he was sad. We were just talking, and in a second he was suddenly really mad but really sad. I swear I saw him crying."

"What were you two talking about? Do you remember what you said or what he said the moment when he changed?" 

"We were talking about our friendship! I told him I liked him, and he told me he liked me too, but, like, more than a friend! Then I thought, well he wants to be my best friend, and then it went down really quick and he was like that in a second." 

Germany observed him for a second, and then he arched an eyebrow. 

I mean. He thought he was the clueless one, but even he would have understood that. 

"So. Let's set things clear. You said something like 'I like you', then he said 'I like you too.' Then you started talking about friends, but he said 'I like you more than a friend.' Then you started talking about best friends. Then, he was suddenly angry. Is that what happened?”

"¡Si Capitano!" Said Italy, smiling widely. And oh God, he thought he was the clueless one. 

"Italy, my dear friend." He started, taking a deep breath. He needed France. "Let's say, a man and a woman are together. And he says 'I like you more than a friend.' What would you think he's meaning?"

"He loves her!" Italy said, smiling. And he smiled and smiled until he didn't. "He... He loves... Her." Slowly, he whispered. 

"And what if he does things for her he wouldn't do in normal situations? Like, cooking for her, or allowing her to call him by his name, or taking the time to explain to her something slowly, when everyone would say he's a devil when he's teaching. Or calling her with endearments, when he doesn't do that. What would you think? Does he want to be her friend?" And Italy slowly came into realization. 

"Oh my God, I messed it up. I ruined everything. I wasted his time. I fell really low. I-" And Germany had to touch his arm, to prevent him from missing the line. "I have to go and talk to him." And he almost ran away, just in the for Ludwig to grab him and bring him back. 

"Do you have any idea of what you’re going to say, at least?" Italy arched his eyebrow, opening his mouth, but Ludwig spoke first. "He liked you even when we were dating, but he never said anything. He liked you since the beginning. And I can't risk you going there and messing it up even more because I haven't seen him this sad since 1945. He doesn't deserve so much pain, and I won't let you go there unless you know exactly what to say." He took a deep breath. "Do you like him? Not like a friend. Not like a best friend." And Italy, slowly, nodded, making him smile. "Give me a pen. I have to give you the address. He's not in Berlin, so you'll have to go now unless you want to miss the train that goes to Hamburg." Italy grabbed a pen, and Germany didn't even waste time on paper, writing it directly onto his skin. "Do you understand it?" Italy nodded, and flew, running to the train station, buying a ticket to Hamburg, and getting on the train in record time. He just hoped that there was still time for him.

He made it to Hamburg, and then, he started going around, trying to remember each street. He reached a big building of apartments and looked at the key in his hand. The door opened, incredibly, and then he started walking, trying to reach the apartment number 19. The door made a little sound when unlocked, and then he went in. 

«It has to be Ludwig's private department.» He thought to himself. Some books were easy to recognize for him because he saw them in his library. A jacket was on the sofa, he recognized it as Gilbert's. And there was a bed for a dog on the floor. 

He walked to the bedroom, and entered, finding him sleeping peacefully. 

«He's here...» He thought, slowly getting closer to him. He sat down on the bed, and at that moment, he woke up.

"What the fuck, Italy?" He almost screamed, going back. "What are you doing here? Get out!" Now he was screaming. 

"No!" Italy responded, but Gilbert didn't listen. He grabbed his arm, dragging him to the door, without paying attention to anything he would say. And when they were almost out, he stopped for a second. 

"What did you said?" 

"I'm sorry," Italy whispered, squirming in his place. "Prussia, my hand hurts..." And he left him to go. He dragged some tears left In his eyes, saying that again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't understand at that moment. Please, forgive me." And his face was suddenly red, his eyes shiny again. 

"It's not fair, I try to get out, and you drag me back, you probably don't even mean what I think you're meaning. And I thought West was bad when it came to feelings." Italy grabbed his hand, pressing it. 

"I like you too." He said, feeling Prussia's hand tremble. "I like you. Not like a friend. Not like a best friend. I like you a lot. I just thought you weren't meaning it like that, or I was just a little tipsy and I wasn't thinking, but I'm sorry. For making you cry and for hurting you." And when he looked at his face, he was crying. "I'm sorry..." He whispered one last time, slowly touching his nose, and kissing him. 

It was something slow. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. He was suddenly so weak, so small. For a second he was a child again.

His hands just hung at his sides at the beginning, but then he slid them, right to his shoulders. They separated, looking at each other for a second. Then, Gilbert spoke. 

"I like you, Feliciano." 

"Me too, Prussia." Italy smiled. 

"Call me by my name. Please." But Italy didn't, because, of course, he had to kiss him again.

[theonyxpath]

WOW! What a weekend!

And it started with our Legendlore Kickstarter funding on Friday! Now we’re moving into Stretch Goals – so please, if you haven’t already, check it out! The link is below in the Kickstarter section!

And and, to get you started, here’s a review of the free PDF of the complete text for the book linked on the KS site: https://thetabletopalmanac.wordpress.com/2020/06/15/rpg-reviews-legendlore-manuscript-preview/

Of course, this leaves the rest of the weekend, which just happened to consist of the first-ever Onyx Path Virtual Gaming Convention!

What a fun time!

We really didn’t know how folks would respond, but now that the three days of panels and gaming are done, I can say that our community was in turns hilarious, supportive, giving, excited, and energized. And that energy really flowed right back into all the events and energized all of us!

I mean, we’re still tired as all get out – who’d have thought that a con I could attend from my own house would do that? – but pretty sure we’re all still feeling the love, too.

Just to pull the giving part out for a second, we are absolutely thrilled that our charity goals were blasted through sometime mid-con, and we’ll be donating over a thousand dollars to each of our excellent causes: The Bodhana Group, and the Thurgood Marshall College Fund!

Now, back to the whooped by the con part, we are and I am, so today I’m just going to pull out some impressions of the events from a bunch of us who normally would have had our Monday Meeting today – we rescheduled it for later this week.

SCENES FROM A VIRTUAL CON:

Matthew: The Onyx Path Virtual Gaming Convention was the first con I helped organise, and while it had its share of stresses in the setup, it came to excellent fruition due to the fantastic teamwork of everyone working hard behind the scenes and amazing engagement from viewers, panelists, players, and those who donated to our charities and took advantage of our sales on onyxpathcon.com

RichT: I started us off on Friday night with the Opening Keynote speech, and then just sort of chatted with Matt McElroy, Dixie Cochran, Eddy Webb, and Matthew Dawkins about what was coming with the con.

For me, I then rolled into my first game, I played one per day, which was the first Actual Play of Exalted Essence. It really did run both fast and smoothly, and all of the various Exalted types we were playing had their times to shine. I was able to put a different, more easy-going, pie-eating, spin on my bear-totemed Lunar who still wound up grappling with the big bad and bear-hugging them in place for Danielle’s Solar to practically one-shot the sucker!

Ian: Convention was great, despite a few hiccups. I was on two streams early on: one Friday evening and one Saturday morning, and then the rest of the con was “free.” Travis and the GG crew were all-stars. Travis couldn’t get Nightbot working for a bit so I took over the random prize drawing for a few streams. I was often juggling two different streams in different monitors to help keep dialogue going in chat. Kudos to everyone, especially those of you who worked multiple panels and games in a single day.

RichT: In fact, the panel Ian refers to on Saturday morning was the “What’s Up With Onyx Path?” panel that started off the day at 9am. This is a panel where a bunch of developers and I talk about upcoming projects for their lines, and answer questions. Eddy and I started doing them about a decade ago when it was “What’s Up With White Wolf?”, but changed the name for obvious reasons after Onyx Path appeared.

During that panel, a couple of things came up: Matthew teased that we might very well do They Came From (the Old West!, or something more flavorful that fits the genre) as the third They Came From game, and Ian talked about Trinity Continuum: Aeon Mission Statements, a book all about the organizations in the setting that aren’t the Psi-Orders. We also noticed that some folks in the chat were new to Onyx Path and what we create, so that was unexpected but welcome news!

Then, I played my second game of the con, which was a sneak preview of Scion: Demigod! Neall took us through a voyage to the Grecian Afterlife, using the Ready Made Characters from Heroes of the World and I got to play a stern Horace Farrow ala Sam Elliott, while Steffie cut up many, many things with Yukiko’s Grass-Cutter Sword. Then, another panel on Community Content and why it rocks wrapped up my Saturday.

Matthew: I didn’t encounter one instance of bad behaviour in chat or anything dubious discussed on screen in games or on panels, and I attended most that I could as a viewer, if I wasn’t an active participant.

Viewership of panels and games peaked at around 250 to 300 people at one time for a couple of the shows, and bottomed out at around 50 people. Those are good figures. Our subscriptions and follows on Twitch rocketed, with many subscriptions being gifted by viewers and even more just being purchased or acquired via Amazon Prime.

My own highlight is impossible to choose between the games and panels I ran or appeared on, though the “Create Your Best Character” panel, which I suspected would be a sleeper, turned into an excellent talk on not playing harmful stereotypes and break out of dangerous tropes.

Eddy: The convention was great for me. My scheduling was a little odd, and I ran into one minor technical issue, but otherwise it went smoothly and it seemed like people in the chat were excited and appreciative. I felt like we got to dig into topics we aren’t able to do in normal convention settings, and attendance was definitely higher than usual for panels at other shows. I also heard that people had a good time watching the games or playing in ad-hoc games all weekend. I know there were some problems on the back-end of getting this all together, but I don’t think any of our attendees noticed anything but a nice, polished experience.

RichT: Sunday started out just like Saturday, with the second “What’s Up With Onyx Path?” panel, although with a different set of developers. The big news was when Eddy ratted out that he was working on Squeaks in the Dark, the mice/rats supplement for Realms of Pugmire!

I then had my second panel on Sunday, the “Art of Onyx Path” one, where Mirthful Mike Chaney joined three of our freelance artists and I in discussing just how illustrators work for us: how they submit their work, how they are contacted, how art notes work, how artists work, and what sort of music do we listen to while doing illustrations. Lots of great questions from the audience, and a wide range of experience within the panel, made it really interesting.

RichT: Then my Sunday game was the first public playtest of They Came From Beyond the Grave! run by Matthew, and featuring Dixie’s Rose Thorne, a driven vampire hunter with attitude, and 70s hair. She teamed up with B. Dave Walters’ smoooth street investigator to blast the ever-lovin’ hell out of evil cultists, while Ian Mueller’s exorcist (sorta) shot the big bad between the eyes with Rose’s derringer, and my slightly odd professor tried to save as much weird-science lab equipment as he could. Science! We left the haunted house as the superimposed fire effect began to devour it, fortunately for all involved (except the dead 70s prog-rock star sacrificed by the cultists).

I immediately had to log into my last event, but what a special event it was! Added late in the proceedings as we had to work within a lot of people’s schedules, I was thrilled to sit down with a bunch of my old co-workers at the original White Wolf in a “Memories of WW” panel with Bill Bridges, Rich Dansky, Ethan Skemp, Mike Tinney, and my old go-to designer for graphics, Matt Milberger.

Much reminiscing occurred, interposed with questions from the chat, that pretty much focused on our time from the early 90s to the early 2000s, although we did chat a bit about the late, lamented WoD MMO, as most of us worked on that in one capacity or another. Mike talked about how he cozened us an arcade version of Dark Stalkers for our little lunchroom, and we had fond memories of the WW Blood Bowl League.

(My Children of the Khorne chaos team won the cup two seasons in a row, just sayin’).

And although I didn’t want it to end, it did, and my time at the first-ever Onyx Path Virtual Gaming Convention was over. Which was actually pretty good because my brain was on autopilot at that point.

Ian: Everyone on both sides of the screen seemed to have a great time, and the only real complaints I heard were that there were too many good things happening at once and people had to make a choice on which stream to watch.

Matthew: While many games had a tendency to overrun, I’d say they each ran to optimal length and didn’t cause too much disruption farther up the schedule.

RichT: Which are all good things to happen, actually, with your first online convention, so we’re going to review all the metrics we can gather ourselves and from the super folks at Gehenna Gaming, and see what we can learn from all that.

Will we do another one? We just don’t know yet, but whether we do or not, this one sure did what we wanted to do – folks who attended had a whole lot of fun! If you missed out and want to watch the games and panels, they are currently on the Onyx Path and Gehenna Gaming Twitch channels for subscribers, but will soon migrate over to the Onyx Path YouTube page for all to watch!

So, from all of us to all of you, whether you attended or didn’t, thanks for making it a real joy to walk with you exploring:

Many Worlds, One Path!

Blurbs!

Kickstarter!

The Legendlore Kickstarter funded right before we started the Virtual Con last week! A really great way to start things off! Now we’re building towards Stretch Goals: the GM’s Screen, and starting the Legendlore Companion book PDF!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/339646881/legendlore-rpg-setting-for-5th-edition-fantasy-roleplaying-0

Grab your friends and escape to another world!

You’ve found an enchanted portal — a transition point — between worlds. The portal, called a Crossing, takes you to a world you thought only existed in novels and films: a magical land where dragons roam the skies, orcs and hobgoblins terrorize weary travelers, and unicorns prance through the forest. It is a world where humans join other peoples such as elves, trolls, dwarves, changelings, and the dreaded creatures who steal the night. It is a world of fantasy — of imagination.

It is the Realm.

It is Legendlore.

Onyx Path Media!

This week: the most exciting episode of the Onyx Pathcast ever, recorded live at the Onyx Path Virtual Gaming Convention!

As always, this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast will be on Podbean or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

Hi all!

We’ll be back next week with our usual promotion of all the excellent games on our Twitch and YouTube channels, but for now, we encourage you to do what it seems a lot of people are doing right now, and hop over to our Twitch: twitch.tv/theonyxpath

While the convention has ended, but subscribing to our Twitch channel (which you can do for free if you have Amazon Prime), you get access to all the panels and games that ran on it over the convention weekend. So, if you missed a panel or game you really wanted to watch, head on to our Twitch, subscribe, and browse our back catalogue!

Other than our content, we would like to promote a couple more games for those without Twitch:

Occultists Anonymous continue their excellent Mage: The Awakening game here:

Episode 106: Friends & Minions The cabal combats the uninvited guest summoned by an Exarchal Supernal Being. The danger of the Exarchal attention prompts further investigations away from the Supernal. https://youtu.be/YSErlwnC7Nc

Episode 107: Making Promises Songbird reaches out to the Queen of the Vampires of New York about a divine blessing. Wyrd and Atratus hatch a plan to make a car… https://youtu.be/dueYYUl0FrY

And A Bunch of Gamers have just started up a two-part extravaganza of They Came from Beneath the Sea! right here:

The Crabby Lizard from the Murkey Depths

Episode 1: In the small east coast town of Chatham Massachusetts things are easy. The soda pop shop is ready for any of the locals. The city comes together for a bake sale to help their neighbors, and everyone knows each other. All that changes when a strange electrical storm and a booming voice can be heard over the jukebox. Tonight, the strange, the horrid, the damp creatures from beyond the stars and the depths of the sea rise up to meet the people of Chatham.https://youtu.be/UwxzdwVoYQE

The Tabletop Almanac has released a lovely review of Legendlore that you’ll want to see! https://thetabletopalmanac.wordpress.com/2020/06/15/rpg-reviews-legendlore-manuscript-preview/

Please check these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games! We’d love to feature you!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost Second Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And now Scion Origin and Scion Hero and Trinity Continuum Core and Trinity Continuum: Aeon are available to order!

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

Available this Wednesday, we are just a bit embarrassed to say that we’ll be releasing on DTRPG the PDF and PoD versions of Swine and Cheese Party, Et Al., excerpts from The Complete Duke Rollo, for Trinity Continuum: Aberrant!

Also available this Wednesday on DTRPG: the Advance PDF for Quantum Entanglement the Trinity Continuum: Aeon Jumpstart!

Conventions!

Though dates for physical conventions are subject to change due to the current COVID-19 outbreak, here’s what’s left of our current list of upcoming conventions (and really, we’re just waiting for this last one to be cancelled even though it’s Nov/Dec). Instead, keep an eye out here for more virtual conventions we’re going to be involved with:

PAX Unplugged: https://unplugged.paxsite.com/

And now, the new project status updates!

Development Status from Eddy Webb! (Projects in bold have changed status since last week.):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep.)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Adversaries of the Righteous (Exalted 3rd Edition)

The Clades Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

The Devoted Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

Saints and Monsters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Anima

CtL 2e Novella Collection: Hollow Courts (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

M20 Technocracy Operative’s Dossier (Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary)

Redlines

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hundred Devil’s Night Parade (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Novas Worldwide (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Exalted Essence Edition (Exalted 3rd Edition)

M20 Rich Bastard’s Guide To Magick (Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary)

V5 Children of the Blood (was The Faithful Undead) (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

V5 Forbidden Religions (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Wild Hunt (Scion 2nd Edition)

Second Draft

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Dearly Bleak – Novella (Deviant: The Renegades)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Under Alien Suns (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

V5 Trails of Ash and Bone (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

Dead Man’s Rust (Scarred Lands)

Development

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Assassins (Trinity Continuum Core)

Manuscript Approval

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Post-Approval Development

Editing

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

LARP Rules (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

The Book of Lasting Death (Mummy: The Curse 2e)

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (They Came From!)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Post-Editing Development

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Indexing

Art Direction from Mike Chaney!

In Art Direction

Scion Titanomachy – Art coming in.

Tales of Aquatic Terror

WoD Ghost Hunters (KS) – Prepping KS assets.

Aberrant – AD’d. First new comic in.

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Mummy 2

Deviant – Dividing up among current artists.

Legendlore – KS running.

Technocracy Reloaded (KS)

Cults of the Blood God – Rolling along.

Scion: Dragon (KS) – Waiting on art notes.

Masks of the Mythos (KS) – Some tweaking to art notes and hiring artists.

Scion: Demigod (KS) – Tweaking art notes, hiring artists. Splats in progress.

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (KS) – Finals coming in.

TC: Adventure! (KS) – Cover art finishing.

In Layout

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad

Vigil Watch

TC Aeon Terra Firma

V5 Let the Streets Run Red

Pugmire Adventure

Proofing

Trinity Aeon Jumpstart – New artist taking care of finishing missing art.

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate – Finishing Backer PDF errata.

Contagion Chronicle – Going to WW for approval this week.

Cavaliers of Mars: City of the Towered Tombs

Magic Item Decks (Scarred Lands)

Yugman’s Guide Support Decks (Scarred Lands)

Dark Eras 2 Screen and booklet

At Press

Scion Companion – Shutting down errata.

TCFBTS Heroic Land Dwellers – Prepping PoD files.

TCFBTS Screen and Booklet – Files at press.

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Files at press.

Creature Collection 5e – PoD files uploaded. Traditional files sent to printer.

Pirates of Pugmire – Files at press. Prepping files for PoD.

Pirates of Pugmire Screen – Files at press.

Duke Rollo Aberrant Book: Swine & Cheese Party – PDf and PoD versions on sale Wednesday on DTRPG.

Pugmire Buried Bones – Gathering errata.

Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition Dark Eras Compilation – Gathering errata.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Today is feet up and dozing after the busy, busy, Virtual Con and celebrating its success!

[noeliareads]

Roses are overrated x Mark Lee

Roses are overrated (Tia and Mark Lee)

Requested by @sweetie-yoongi7

Genre: Fluff

****

“Hey Tia wanna go to the movies tonight?”

“Sorry Johnny but I have to work at the store tonight. We have a wedding tomorrow.” She said as she gathered her notebooks. She offered Johnny a sad smile and left. She had to hurry, otherwise her mother wouldn’t be very pleased if she were late. 

Tia worked at her family business every weekend and sometimes on a weekday if they had a lot to do. Tomorrow, Saturday they had a wedding and they had to do around 10 center pieces, arrangements for the church, the food table, the cake table and a whole lot of other tables. I mean, there were a lot of flowers involved. She arrived at the store, said a quick hello and changed into an old t shirt that she keeps in the office. 

“Hey mom, I’m here.” 

“Oh thank God! Tia I need you to cover the front for me because Sandy left. She had an emergency. Use the main table and please try not to make a mess. I’ll send you the images so you can start making them.” 

“Kay mom.” Your mom gave you a kiss on the forehead and retired to the back. But, you actually forgot one thing. “MOM,” you hollered. “What flowers and what color?” Your mom gave you the answer and you grimaced. You hated those, especially the color. But what can you do? The client gets what they want. You cleared your work space, got the flowers, the greens, your scissors, thorn cutter, many many vases and pots and began to work, 

***

“Son, did you get the flowers I told you?” Mark slowly turned to look at his father and smiled sheepishly. His father rolled his eyes and told him to go to the Riviera Flower shop, the best one in town. It was only 4:30 so it was probably still open. Mark grabbed his wallet and ran out the door. It was his mother's birthday and he had forgotten to buy the flowers after school. He biked to the store, being that the fastest way to get there. Tiny bells chimed as he opened the door. He was invaded by the smell of flowers and the buzz of classical music playing. Some people say they can’t smell flowers but this was a place where there were flowers everywhere. His eyes settled on a girl behind a large table cutting the thorns out of blue roses. He cleared his throat and the girl looked up. What he saw was a girl, a beautiful girl with bronze skin, wide chocolate colored eyes and long straight hair tied up in a ponytail. A few baby hairs were around her face but it was understandable because she was so concentrated in working. ‘She’s beautiful’ He thought. 

Tia felt someone watching her, she didn't hear the chiming bells as the person opened the door but she did feel the stare.

“Can I help you?” She asked as she looked up. It was a boy. A dark haired, tall, lean boy with sharp angular features. Cute.

“Oh! Uh yeah. Um, I need some flowers.” The girl lifted an eyebrow with the ghost of a smile on her lips. Mark laughed nervously. Of course he needed flowers he was in a flower shop. “Yeah, like it’s my mom's birthday and I just wanted like, I dunno like some roses or something.” The girl scoffed. 

“Roses are so overrated.” She blurted out. Mark couldn’t help but stare at her. ‘Why?’ He asked. Tia blushed. ‘Me and my big mouth.’ 

“Everyone thinks of roses when they think about flowers. If it’s not red roses. It’s white ones or pink ones. I mean, there are hundreds of types of flowers out there! ” Mark watched as she ripped out the thorns of a dozen roses with a special instrument, she didn’t even look at what she was doing. It came natural to her. She learned flower names and meaning since she was little. She loved helping around the shop whenever she could. 

“Ok then.” He said. “How about some white tulips.” He smiled inwardly. People usually buy purple, red or yellow tulips. 

“Are you crazy?” She exclaimed. “White tulips mean heaven and eternity. Heaven and eternity = death. Dying, bye bye world!” He shifted nervously on his feet. She was intimidating. 

“Ok then. What do YOU recommend?” She put the rose and the thorn cutter on the table and walked around to the large fridges where they kept their flowers. 

“Mom’s birthday you say?” He nodded. She grabbed a large piece of Kraft paper that was beside her and began to grab some flowers. “Bluebells mean gratitude.” She began, turning around to look at him with a meaningful expression. “Carnations mean love and admiration. Sunflowers mean loyalty and baby’s breath mean everlasting love.” Mark wasn’t paying much attention to what she was saying. He was paying attention to how she delicately grabbed the flowers and arranged them effortlessly, grabbing some greens to add volume and color. Deep into his thoughts, he didn’t notice how she was staring at him with the flowers in her hands. 

He was handsome she thought, very handsome. It was cute when he said ‘like’ 100 times in one sentence. But of course, your sarcasm and sometimes nerdy personality shines through most of the times. 

“Here are the flowers by the way.” You said. Mark snapped out of his daze and thanked you for them. 

“How much are they?” He asked, while he fished for his wallet. 

She waved it off. “Nah, it’s on me.”

“Yooo! No, I can’t.” She smiled. 

“I’m serious. It’s ok. My parents own the store and the coffee shop across the street, so I work for them.”

“Are-are you sure?” 

“Positive!” She beamed at him. And extended her hand. “I’m Tia by the way.”

“Mark.” 

After their exchange, Mark went back home. He couldn’t stop thinking about Tia. He didn’t even acknowledge the praise he received from his parents in choosing flowers. It was her voice, the way she phrased things. The way she didn’t think he was weird for saying ‘like’ so many times. He already got enough from his friends. But it was her, her working hands, the bright colors of the flowers contrasting with the color of her skin. Her, he had to see her again. 

Mark went almost everyday to the flower shop and the coffee shop in hopes of finding her. After about a week and a half he did. He found her in the coffee shop. 

“Mark! Hi!” She exclaimed as she saw him. ‘Oh crap. Was I too obvious?’ She thought. Tia also thought of him constantly. Almost a week after their first encounter, she was working in the back room of the flower shop doing inventory when she saw some bluebells and smiled. It reminded her of their interaction. ‘Ok, Tia. Get yourself together! He’s just a guy.’ 

After some quick conversation she told him to take a seat and that she’ll be out soon. “Can I get you anything?” She asked. 

“Nah, I’m good.” Still she made him a cup of coffee alongside hers and a piece of chocolate cake. They talked for around 2 hours. There were some moments of awkward silence but they were replaced with random topics and his hilarious laugh. His laugh was contagious. Even clapping while doing so. She couldn’t stop laughing and smiling with him. “Oh crap.” They both thought. “I’m in deep.” 

“So, what does baby’s breath mean again?” He asked. They were talking about the meaning of flowers and how she grep up to know about them. She crossed her legs and said without hesitation. “Everlasting love.” 

“Yeah but, is there like a cool story behind it?” 

“Story?”

“Yeah yeah. Like a legend. I dunno, like a hero saves a princess and like they have a kid and like the baby had magic powers and with their breath the baby like made...the flowers?” Tia laughed out loud. 

“OH MY GOSH!” She kept on laughing making Mark’s ears turn red with embarrassment. “Dude, that’s a great story but no. It also means purity and innocence. We use baby’s breath with everything basically. But in terms of like a story?” She paused. “Mhmm. I do know that in some places it’s common to give some of them to new mothers. But other than that it resembles the innocence and delicateness of a baby.” 

“Nice nice.” He kept on quizzing her about flowers, at least the ones he knew the names of. 

“I could...” She hesitated. “I mean, you can come by the store sometime if you wanna know more...”

“YES!” He cleared his throat. “I mean yeah, that’s cool.”

Tia and Mark met every Saturday and Sunday that she worked in the shop. She showed him what she knew about flowers and plants.  She taught him how to make basic arrangements and how to dye flowers. ‘We don’t buy pre dyed flowers.’ She says. ‘Not the same quality.’ Tia’s mom welcomes the helping hand and teased Tia at home about him. After Mark got a hang of the flower stuff he grew to work in unison with Tia. He knew what she was going so he did the other in order to help her out. Shoulders bumped and hands brushed. There were blushing cheeks, reddening ears and giggles (mainly from Mark) every weekend. 

After a few months and coordinated with Tia’s mom, Mark booked the store for the night. He didn’t need flowers because the store was full of them. But he wanted to make sure Tia knew how he felt about her. That night, he asked Tia to be his girlfriend, offering her a bouquet of red chrysanthemums, blue irises and of course, baby’s breath. He knew she loved bright colored flowers and he loved seeing her in those colors as well. 

“Tia, I uh, I just want you to know that I really really, like really like you.” He started. “These past few months I got to know flow--- I mean you. I got to know you.” 

Tia giggled, still surprised that he organized this. And with her mother’s help! “And flowers.” She added. 

“Yeah you and flowers.” He took a deep breath and let it out fast. “Ok, you know what?” He said exasperated. “I really am not good at this. I wanted to say that you are as beautiful and delicate as a flower, you also always smell like flowers.” He stated. “Like, always!” He earned another laugh from Tia. She was really enjoying this. “Tia, my point is. Do you want to be my flower? I mean, my girlfriend?” 

Tia was actually waiting for him to say those words a while ago. She nodded and headed over to hug him, his tall frame towering over her. And just like flowers, their romance bloomed. 

[hazyheel]

Impact Wrestling Rebellion 2019 Review

Night began with a six man scramble. We had Petey Williams, Jake Crist, Aiden Prince, Ace Austin, Cousin Jake, and Eddie Edwards. No real reward for winning here, but it would be a big victory. The announcers seemed to be implying that this match would be important in the X-Division. The big spots started right out of the gate, with Crist intercepting Austin’s suicide dive with a cutter onto a pile of opponents. Crist was actually all over the place, drilling people with huge DDT’s and cutters all over the place. Austin as well was flying around with well placed kicks to all of his opponents. Jake was the powerhouse of the match, coming in to deliver huge power moves when the action was low. The finish came very quickly, with Williams hitting Jake with a Canadian destroyer, but Austin slid in and rolled up Williams for the win.

Grade: C-. Fine match, very spotty, not really long enough. Jake Crist and Ace Austin really shined, but everyone else felt very left out. Prince and Edwards in particular only really got one spot each, with Edwards hitting a tiger driver and Prince hitting a 450. The physicality of the match may be enough for some people to put it on the positive side, but they just didn’t give it enough time, nor was there much of a story here. A couple side stories converged here, especially between Austin and Williams, but we didn’t need this many people in a match to further that story. If you are gonna book a match with this many people, then you need to give it ample time. There was less than 6 minutes here, so each wrestler literally had less than a minute to do something memorable. That would be impossible. This match was doomed from the start.

Then there was an ad for Impact+, a new streaming service. Very exciting.

Next was another new match on the card, Scarlet Bordeaux vs Rohit Raju. This was a pretty basic inter gender match, with Raju being a dick and not taking her seriously. Raju had the win early on with a snap suplex, but he pulled her back off the mat. Not long after, Bordeaux was able to lock in a cross face, with Raju nearly tapping out but powered out of the hold. Scarlet was able to get the win after hitting a low blow while Fallah Bahh distracted the ref, and then a package pildriver for the win.

Grade: D. Bordeaux really isn’t all that good, and this match was so easily telegraphed that I called her getting a win with a low blow from the beginning. Raju did his best selling and such, but this match was heavily held back by its own “gimmick.” Not really worth watching.

Into the 6-man tag, Moose and The North against the Rascalz. Page and Alexander were actually cheered as they entered, possibly because of their affiliation with Canada. Heels has a huge size advantage. Rascalz started out with some high flying teamwork, hitting senton after senton to Moose, before Moose destroyed them after a kip up. Dez was destroyed for much of the beginning, but when they got the offense they hit some killer offense. Page was taken out after being hit with a pushed moonsault off the stage from Wentz. Moose then caught a suicide dive from Trey, powerbombing him into the barricade, before Dez came flying in with a senton, jumping off the back of Alexander on the stage. The Rascalz hit a series of offense of the top rope, only for Page to break it up with a crucifix bomb. Alexander then threw Wentz out of the ring onto Trey. Dez continued to get destroyed, being hit with a superkick, forearm, and then a pump kick. The North then destroyed him with an assisted fireman’s slam, and then a spear from moose for the win.

Grade: B+. This is how to have a flippy sprint of a match. Everyone had a chance to shine, with the Rascalz showing some of their high flying prowess, and the heels showing how good they could be in a prominent pay per view spot. Makes sense for the heels to pick up the win, builds up a new tag team and a new challenger for the world championship. I liked this a lot.

In an interview, Johnny Impact and Taya Valkyrie bullied Melissa Santos, and ultimately said that they would destroy their opponents. Simple stuff, but Santos is an awesome interviewer. She gives me Renee Young vibes, and hopefully she becomes just as big.

Into the Knockouts championship match, Jordynne Grace against Valkyrie. Grace attacked right at the bell, immediately dropping Valkyrie onto the apron twice for a near fall. Valkyrie targetted Grace’s arm throughout the match. Grace started to fight back, hitting Valkyrie with a lariat, but falling to the mat in pain from the injured arm. Grace continued to use her arms to attack, with one lariat after the other, but she just couldn’t keep it up. Valkyrie took advantage of that and hit the road to Valhalla for the win.

Grade: B-. This match was a bit slow, and really was just short of being bad. I liked the story of dissecting the arm, and having that come back to hurt Grace. Valkyrie played a great heel here, and nevertheless got a clean win. It was just a very straightforward match that felt like it should have been on TV, given how much limb work was in it. But I was into the story, so good on them for crafting a narrative.

Another interview from Santos, this time with Gail Kim. Kim said that she is coming back to the ring to teach Tessa Blanchard a lesson. A lesson that no one is willing to teach them themselves. She wouldn’t listen to Kim as an agent, so maybe she will listen as an opponent. 

And next up was Rich Swann against Sami Callihan for the X-Division championship, under OvE rules. The rest of OvE, including their new heavy, are banned from ringside. As Swann came down, he was not dancing at all, dead serious, opening the match with a series of quick strikes. Swann wasted no time getting extreme, stapling Callihan several times in he opening stretch. Callihan returned the favor with a staple to the mouth the second he got the staple gun. Callihan countered a suicide dive with a brutal shot with a steel sheet to the face. Callihan even countered a crossbody by catching Swann, and drilling him into a seated chair with an exploder suplex. Swann shocked the crowd with how sadistic he could be, licking Callihan’s blood, and nailing Callihan with a series of kicks while his head was in a garbage can. Swann also used the stipulation to aid his flying offense, swinging off part of the set into a hurricanrana, and also nailing a handspring cutter on the stage. Callihan has a bit of railing set up between the stage and ring steps, and ended up piledriving Swann onto it for a near fall. Swann was on the top rope locking for a splash, but Callihan countered with a hand full of salt to the eyes, and then piledriver him off the top and onto a pile of legos for a crazy near fall. Callihan introduced a barbed ware baseball bat into the match, but Swann got it after a hitting a low blow, tapping Callihan out with a cross face using the bat.

Grade: B. Pretty good match, with some absolutely brutal death match spots. I wasn’t sure how much Swann’s offense would translate into a style like this, but he worked pretty well. My biggest problem with the match was simply that they didn’t play up their rivalry enough. This match was one of the best built on the whole card, but I didn’t feel as much emotion as I thought I would. They didn’t really tap into it until the end, when Callihan begged Swann to have mercy on him. With that little bit more of storytelling, and possibly a bit more wrestling before they got into all the deathmatch stuff, this could have been a really great match.

Another interview, this time with Blanchard. She said that she doesn’t need to respect anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Tully Blanchard showed up out of nowhere, saying that he fully supported his daughter, and that she needed this win. Well alrighty then.

We went right into that match next, Gail Kim against Tessa Blanchard. This was a brawl from the bell, and it was Blanchard’s strength against Kim’s speed. Blanchard hit a brutal codebreaker off of the middle rope for a near fall. This really felt like the two hated each other, with a bit of extra emphasis on each of the strikes. The two even brawled on the ring steps, with Tessa going face first into the post. After a big splash out of the corner from Kim, the crowd erupted into well deserved “you still got it” chants. The two brawled on the stage, and Blanchard used her signature reverse dragon suplex spot to throw Kim off the stage. Kim was able to hit Blanchard with eat defeat after countering a slingshot suplex, but only a near fall. As Kim locked in a dragon sleeper on the top rope, Blanchard countered by biting her arm, and then hitting magnum for another near fall. Blanchard then immediately locked in a sort of cobra clutch on the mat, and Kim had no choice but to tap out. After the match, Blanchard offered a handshake, but Kim came in with a hug. Blanchard was balling her eyes out, so happy to get the torch passed to her. Kim was in the ring and soaked up the applause, in what could easily be her last match. And it was a hell of a match to go out on.

Grade: A-. This was a brutal match for a brutal feud. All the hatred that built between the two in the preceding weeks was addressed here. They brought the fight to each other with as much as they possibly could. The adversity between the two was real, and it was awesome to see the two get to show what they had. The showcase at the end was very sweet, but it kinda took me out of the whole “hate each other” thing. But it was clearly a huge moment for Blanchard, the biggest win she’s ever had, so I understand why she couldn’t contain herself.

Cage cut a weirdly quick promo about how he will do anything to beat down Impact tonight. Their friendship was long gone, and he wants to show him that he is the better man.

And that world championship match was next, Brian Cage against Johnny Impact with Lance Storm as the referee. Another match that started right at the bell, with Cage destroying Impact with tackles, kicks, a German Suplex and an F5 for a near fall right out of the gate. Then he hit a buckle bomb, and a deadlift vertical suplex off the apron and into the ring for another near fall. He went for another deadlift, but Impact fought out and hit an incredible German suplex. Impact then took the fight to the stage, and hit a Spanish fly off the the ramp and onto the floor. At some point, Cage did a blade job, probably after being thrown into the barricade. Actually, looking at his head, Cage May have cut open the top of his head, but either way, he was bleeding like a stuck pig. As the two brawled, Valkyrie and the crooked ref Bravo set up a table for Impact on the outside. Impact had Cage set up for a Starship Pain through the table, but Cage got up and powerbombed Impact through the table. Bravo tried to get involved, but Cage caught him. Impact hit Cage with the belt in the back, only for Valkyrie to pull Storm out of the ring, and Impact nailed him with a dropkick to the outside. Impact then played possum in the ring, with Valkyrie pretending that she hit Cage with the belt. Cage drilled her with a powerbomb, only for Impact to grab the belt and hit Cage with it. Bravo then ran in the ring, with a ref’s shirt on, and Impact hit the Starship Pain, but Cage kicked out! Storm ran back in the ring, and superkicked Bravo. He was about to disqualify Impact, but Cage stopped him. Cage then hit Impact with a superkick of his own, and the drill claw to finally win the Impact world championship.

After the match, Michael fucking Elgin showed up debuting in Impact, and he seemed to challenge Cage for his belt. He attacked Cage with a backfist and a spinning powerbomb. Seems like we have the next big opponent for Cage.

Grade: B-. This was fucking wild. Huge moves all over the place, and while it seemed slow at times, the big moves more than made up for it. That finishing sequence was all over the place, but it seemed to tick all the boxes. Impact got comeuppance with a powerbomb through a table and losing his belt. Valkyrie ate a rough powerbomb, and Bravo was hit with a superkick. However, everything that was leading up to that finish, apart from the opening sequence, seemed like it slowed down too much. I think that Cage looked a bit weak, even in his victory, because he didn’t have he advantage much after he started bleeding. But still, his win was the right choice. I wouldn’t have had Elgin beat him down right after his big win, his first big win at that, but it will probably be an awesome match. I was wondering where Elgin went, and this is a huge acquisition for Impact. Also, they used to be a tag team in PWG, so maybe they will bring that up. The finish, while entertaining, was a bit overbooked and had too many twists and turns to really keep up with. A bit tough to grade this one, but I think that the loss of momentum and the flurry of stuff happening in the latter half of the match hurt it a bit for me.

In the clubhouse, LAX were prepared for their match in the main event. Kennan called the full metal mayhem match a Mexican standoff, which is weird because it is nothing like a Mexican standoff, other than the fact that it is a standoff amongst Mexicans. Maybe I’m stupid, because I was thinking about that so much that I missed the rest of the promo.

And in the main event, the Lucha Bros took on LAX for the Impact Tag Team Championships, in Full Metal Mayhem. Once again, LAX attacked before the bell with stereo dives. Fenix and Pentagon responded with dives of their own, sending everyone through tables. The Lucha Bros hit their classic double superkick spot, but Satanna’s head was in a trash can this time. LAX hit their team combo, but Fenix broke up the pin with a big diving dropkick, and then fended them both off with a series of kicks. At one point, Ortiz had Fenix up for a draping cutter into a couple set up chairs, and Santana assisted with a double stomp to Fenix’s head, for a near fall. The four met in the middle of the right, nailing each other with elbow strikes while just sitting in chairs. Konnan involved himself after this, passing Ortiz and Santana a couple forks. LAX set up a bunch of chairs near the corner, only for the Lucha Bros to use it against them with a terrifying fear factor into the chairs, but Santana kicked out! Fenix looked pretty busted up during the match, and even Don Callis and Josh Mathews on commentary pointed out that his left arm looked limp. Lax had a table set up on the ramp, and Ortiz tried to put Pentagon through it with something off a ladder, but Fenix walked the top rope and drove him through it with the scariest Spanish fly that I have ever seen. Fenix under rotated, and landed on his fucking head and somehow he could still walk. Back in the ring, Santana ate a Pentagon driver through a chair, but still kicked out. Then came the thumb tacks. Pentagon spread them out on a pair of tables. Pentagon and Santana battled atop a ladder, teasing who would go through them. It seemed like Santana would do the honors, but Ortiz ran in to make the save, putting Pentagon in a powerbomb position. Santana helped out his partner by stabbing Pentagon in the head with a fork, and Ortiz blasted Pentagon through the tables and the tacks. That was what did it, and LAX began their forth title reign as the tag champs.

After the match, Fenix could barely stand up straight. Konnan decided to squash the hate, saying that they are family. They all embraced, and then the faces of the roster came out to pay their respects.

Grade: A. One of the most terrifying matches I have ever seen. The spots were so sick, everything was scary as hell, and it was car crash TV at its finest. This was as much of a war as their feud needed, and it was a hell of a blowoff. I hope that Fenix is okay, because that was a scarier spanish fly than Will Ospreay last year. The embrace at the end made a lot of sense as well. They started this feud as friends, and that was how they ended it. Great match through and through, easily the best Impact match in years. Match of the night for sure.

Overall Grade: B-

Pros: Good commentary; 6-man tag; X-Division Championship; Blanchard vs. Kim; Main Event

Cons: Way too short of an opener; Bordeaux vs. Raju

On a note that I wanted to be completely separate from the review, why wasn’t anyone disqualified for using the tables in the main event? They aren’t made of metal, so they shouldn’t be legal. Just saying.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

Christmas Cookies

DECEMBER 13TH, 2017.

Set in 2017. The missus Amelie and Harry spend Christmas with Gemma and Anne and Michal at Anne’s Home x

I have a funny feeling this is one that a lot of you have been waiting for. ;) It’s small, and the ending sucks a little, because I’ve literally had one of the worsts days ever... so I deeply apologise for that. I have a couple more TeenDad/XFactor!Harry Blogmas stories to come this December... which I’m extremely excited for because I love exploring with this little AU world that we’ve created. I love exploring the little relationship that the family has and I’m so glad it’s settled so well with everyone.

Feedback is welcomed, as always.

Enjoy. xx

CHRISTMAS EVE, 3PM, 2017. HOLMES CHAPEL.

Your boots were off of your feet, and your coat was off of your body, before Harry had managed to close the front door behind the both of you, upon your arrival home. An echoing bang bouncing off the walls in the hallway and filtering around the lower level of his mum’s house, startling someone, he could guess, from the surprised yelp that came soon after - his mum, presumably. Your chequered scarf still wound around your neck, to fight the chill in the outside air, as you dropped the house keys into the dark and polished oak bowl on the hallway table, beside the house-phone and set upon a small pile of books, from the most recent Yellow Pages directory to an address book for close friends and family to maps of Manchester and towns located down south and in the London area. A heavy breath being puffed out from Harry’s chapped lips, slightly cracked and bleeding in some areas and shining, from the Vaseline, beneath the light, as he shrugged out of thick brown coat and adjusted the sleeves of his black hoodie. Pulling them over his hands whilst toeing out of his clunky boots. The sky already darkening, making the day turn colder, as the softest of snow flurries begun to fall from the dark snow clouds.

You heard the two of them before you saw them.

Amelie’s sweet giggles mixed with Anne’s as the both of them occupied the sweet and deliciously smelling kitchen for the afternoon, having kicked the both of you out for an hour or two, informing you that you should ‘go for a walk’ around Cheshire or ‘buy a coffee for each other’ in the local coffee house or ‘go to see old friends’ that the two of you hadn’t seen for a long while, and having sent Robin out, into the chilly garden, to gather the firewood to prepare for the cold chill of the evening that would spring, unexpectedly, upon the atmosphere. The clattering sounds of pots and pans and the tinkling of mixing bowls and wooden spoons echoed around the spacious room and filtered through to the hallway, and entryway of the house.

“Careful with that, sweet girl. It’s a little bit hot. We don’t need burnt fingers before Christmas Day, do we, hm?”

Came the soothing tone of Anne, filling the quiet house. All except the crackling of the open fire in the living room that emitted an orange glow as you shuffled passed the door and the radio, set on the lowest volume, as it hummed quietly through the house. Harry hot on your heels as you peered around the corner. Both heads poking into the kitchen, seeing the two of them stood at the cooker as they hovered above the cooker, the smell of melted chocolate drowning out the smell of gingerbread and the spice of cinnamon that clung to the air. A tinkle of the wooden spoon hitting the glass producing slower arm movements from the 7-year old stood beside her grandmother. High on a chair with an apron tied loosely around her neck and bow-tied at the small of her back. Her hair still tied into a makeshift topknot that Harry had gladly tied up, that morning.

“Nana, it smells delicious, doesn’t it?” Amelie lisped, taking a glance at Anne as the elderly lady nodded with pure delight on her features, “can we put loads n’loads of marshmallows on the top, too? ‘cause, I love it when you put them in my hot chocolate,” she grinned as Anne helped guide her tiny hand into a rotating motion, consistent and slow to make sure the cubes had completely melted, “and, daddy likes them a whole lot, too.”

“He does, doesn’t he? Your daddy has always had a sweet tooth. I made sure I went and brought more from Waitrose before the three of you came up. And daddy gets his own bag,” Anne smiled as Amelie giggled in amusement, unwrapping her hand from around her granddaughters and tending back to the gingerbread dough that was sprinkled with flour and ready to kneaded and rolled out, a cookie cutter, in the shape of a person, set close by. “Did you know that me and your daddy used to make rice crispie cakes, all the time, together? They were his absolute favourites and I’d always make sure I had a batch made for him.”

“Really?”

“Really, really,” Anne nodded. Because there really had been plenty of days, in the past, when her kids used to love joining her in the kitchen, without caring what people thought about them, and helping out wherever they could. Granted, they were usually found licking the spoons or dipping their fingers into the cake batter when she turned her back, but she was never angry because she never knew when those days would come to an end. “And your Auntie Gem used to love my gingerbread cookies and she’d always decorate them for me and she used to dunk them in her cups of tea on the colder days when she came home from school,” she added. Arms and muscles flexing as she began to knead the heels of her hands into the sticky dough on the counter. Flour getting between her fingers and getting stuck beneath her red-painted nails, “I think she’d be happy to pass on the decorating to you, my darling.”

“The cookies you’re makin’ now were her favourites?” Amelie wondered, as Anne hummed in response, her eyes lifting from the bowl, full of the thick and brown and melted dairy chocolate, to look at her grandmother, a glisten twinkling in her orbs, “can she help me decorate them when she gets here?”

“I think she’d absolutely love that, my darling,” Anne informed her, stretching her arm out to grab hold the handle of the pan, pushing it further onto the cooker before taking a peek into the glass bowl, “I think we could add the rice crispies and the marshmallows now, don’t you think? I think the chocolate is all melted, yeah?”

Amelie nodded in agreement, carefully hopping off the chair, and stabilising herself with a hold on the edge of the counter. Her socked feet slipping against the tiles as she spun around to make her way to the pantry, seeing you and Harry stood in the doorway and admiring the scene before your eyes. Cheeks still wind-bitten and fingertips still pink from the bitter atmosphere outside. Feet tingling from the sudden change in temperature with socks damp at the toes from having to trudge through the melted snow and muddy slush and the puddles that set on the pavements. Your trousers speckled with, what could have only been, melting snowflakes from outside. Hair damp with a few droplets that formed upon the strands.

Her feet taking her, quickly, towards her father as he hunched over to welcome her into the tightest, warmest and cuddliest hug he could give her. No concern, whatsoever, to the dribbles of chocolate that clung to the red apron or the chocolate that clung to the pads of her fingers and thumbs as she gripped his shoulders. Her marble-print jeans twisting around her legs as the black sleeves of her jumper stayed up by her elbows.

“Hi, little love,” Harry chuckled, letting out a playful groan as he lifted her from her feet and set her upon his hip, “god, you’re getting too heavy for me to carry. Want you to stay small forever, you know that? Are you having fun with nana, yeah? What are we making this afternoon?”

“Gingerbread cookies and your favourite cakes, daddy! With extra marshmallows and lots’a chocolate,” she giggles into his neck and clung to his upper body as he took strides across the kitchen. Setting her back on the chair and making sure she was sturdy on her feet before he took off towards the pantry to grab the forgotten box of cereal, tucked into the end of the lowest shelf possible so that Amelie could have reached for them. “Nana said we could make ‘em look like Christmas puddin’s, too!”

You stalked across the tiles and pressed a kiss to Anne’s cheek, reaching into the bowl of chocolate buttons and popping one between your teeth, sending her the shyest of smiles.

“She’s been good for you, yeah?” You wondered, as you watched her hands work hard on the dough. Stretching and pulling and nudging her palms into the sticky substance. “She gets rather, you know, excitable when she gets in the kitchen to do some baking. Always runs havoc at home when Harry suggests they make some cakes.”

“Absolutely freezing. But, it was nice to have some time as just the two of us. We rarely get that now,” you hummed, as you looked across the space to see Harry dropping individual rice crispies in his daughter’s open mouth. A smile bright on his lips, splitting his face and, probably, aching his cheeks, with a dimple popping to the side of his mouth. “It’s so great to be back up here for Christmas, you know? It feels different when we’re celebrating in London. We have so many memories here.”

“Hey,” Harry whined behind Amelie’s palm, his eyebrows furrowing on his brow-line as crumbled pieces landed upon the cotton of his sweater. An matching jumper upon his daughter, with the exception of no hood that sat at the base of her neck, “what was that for, little love? Gon’a waste ‘em all if you keep muckin’ around, huh?” 

[thethotwithoutfear]

Shine Bright Like A Diamond (Part 1)

A/N: Ok so this is like my first fic ever and I’ve been a huge fan of the Spider-Man comics since I was a kid. I absolute loved the vibe of Homecoming so I was completely inspired and decided to try and combine the two using one of my fave characters in the comics but make her less of the “neurotic jealous ex” (yuck) and instead put the reader quite literally in her shoes. It’s going to be spread out into multiple parts (don’t know how many right now but so far I have four done and I can’t wait to share them with you). The first part is a little slow but I promise the rest will only go up from there. Its not completely canonical but I hope you all enjoy it regardless!

Wordcount: 1,935 

Warnings: Not many, just a couple of swear words here and there 

Summary: With her notorious cat burglar of a father sick and held hostage by a former employer, (y/n) must take on the mantle of the Black Cat in order to pay off his debts and regain his freedom. All this whilst navigating high school, new found friendships, a secret identity, and maybe...love? 

                  You stood on the edge of your apartment building, the chill of an Autumn breeze making the already inching goosebumps on your arms worse. You were nervous, anxious, maybe even a little scared...ok maybe a lot scared. This was it, your first time at it alone, and you sure felt alone now, the night air swallowing you up as you scanned the skyline of New York City from your little patch of Queens.

 You reassured yourself one last time before making the big leap, remembering the skills your father had practically ingrained into you over the years: stealth, determination, speed, a quick wit, slight of hand, combat, and charm. Those were the tools your father passed on to you, and now in his greatest time of need you were going to make him proud. Sure, he let you tag along once or twice on a job, sometimes he'd even let you practice down in Time Square with his supervision. Him, charming tourists out of their wallets as you caressed their pockets smooth as silk. Tiny you looking out during heist jobs, him practically being your private professor of computers/tech so you'd better understand vault systems and the tech he'd so ingeniously crafted to get the job done easier, anything it took to survive. The pressure was great but he had always believed in you.

                You secured the night vision goggles of your own making to your face, flicked your fingers twice, the retractable claws of your suit giving way; it was now or never. You took a deep breathe and let yourself fall consumed by the darkness of the Black Cat...

[Student AV Club anchor #1: In other news, last night New York's biggest one man diamond heist in history took place along with another Spidey sighting!]

[Anchor #2: That's right Adam. At around 12 p.m. The NYPD reported that an unknown suspect stole what is believed to have been 400 million dollars worth of diamonds from within the International Gem Tower and the vaults of the Diamond Dealers Club of New York City]

[Anchor#1: The thief managed to go undetected for a majority of the heist until what the authorities believe was a misstep on the last leg of the DDC's security measures: an infrared laser cage. Witnesses outside the Gem Tower reported however, that here was a quick and some would say spectacularly acrobatic altercation between New York's newest and baddest cat burglar and Spider-Man. What a sight, huh Claire!?]

[Anchor #2: No doubt about it Adam! Unfortunately the thief, who authorities and the Daily Bugle are are now dubbing the Black Cat, DID get away. Lets hope if there's a next time, the hero of Queens can put the cat..back in the bag.]

          As much as you wanted to hear the school AV Club's amateur reporters talk about your wild accomplishments for the night and lavish in your victory, you couldn't help but admit to yourself that you were just too damn tired and too sad to do either. Even though the events of last night should have freed your father from his captors, your success in pulling off their supposed one time impossible heist, did not. Instead they decided to give you ONE more extremely vague heist, one even more ridiculous than the last to truly set your father free. And your father's time as it was, was already falling short. For now though, you had to do what any other 16 almost 17 year old kid had to do and that was go to school.

In fact it was the second semester of your Junior year. Your backpack added more weight to your already Atlas-like shoulders, the hoodie over your head masking your dark circles in a cotton shadow and hiding a mess of un-brushed hair. No one would notice of course, hardly anyone talked to you here. You had transferred almost a year ago this year being your second. Your father had fallen sick shortly after being released from prison, leaving the two of you no choice but to move in with your Aunt Dalma. You left everything you knew from your Brooklyn apartment to her slightly bigger one in Queens. You'd never known your mother, and your father's sister was the only family you had left. You needed her help looking after him and your father couldn't really look after you anymore. Not that he ever really did outside of training you in the art of cat burglary.

He'd spend most of his days scoping new targets to heist, getting blueprints, hacking systems, developing strategies, choreographing precise movements to by pass laser security in the comfort of your living room, holed up later in his own room tinkering away perfecting his signature code breakers, wall crawlers, laser cutters, etc., and negotiating new deals with bosses in exchange for a percentage of whatever he'd manage to steal was worth. Although he'd earned pretty hefty cuts, you couldn't lie to yourself or him hide well enough the fact that he had gambled most of, if not all, his earnings leaving you with barely enough to scrape the barrel and have enough for at least a roof over your heads. Despite this, you'd often stay up all night waiting for him to get back at ungodly hours, still loving your father very much even in his absence and with his irresponsibility. Cat burglary was the only thing that truly tied you to him.

The one good thing that came from the move however, was finding out that the tech and science your father had taught and passed down to you and your ever assessing brain was that it made you a virtual robotics, computer, and programming genius; genius enough to be able to attend Midtown. Although it had been a lonely sophomore year, you enjoyed distracting yourself from your personal problems with constant learning. You didn't have to think about how your family would manage to pay for your father's treatments while figuring out a new algorithm for your programming final or learning enough chemistry (even if it wasn’t your strong suit) to perfect your dad's smoke bombs. You didn't have to wonder if you and your Aunt could scrape up enough money to pay for food and rent if you were too busy trying to figure out the faulty mechanics that were ruining the fluid movement of the prosthetic robotic hand you were making for robotics shop.

It had all gotten to be too much however when The Boss who had ratted your dad out to the authorities and had been responsible for his imprisonment came calling. He only spoke through phone calls and he apparently wanted money back that your father had, unbeknownst to you, stolen from him and then some. But there was no way you and your Aunt Dalma could get a measly chunk of that kind of money and your father was in no state to pull off the alternative heist in exchange for settling of his debts, so in a moment of desperation you took your father's debt upon yourself. The Boss had his minions kidnap your father and hold him for ransom in the meantime. His days were numbered without your Aunt and you there to take care of him even if you practically begged them to give him proper care in your absence. When they had allowed you to see him the night of your more than successful diamond heist, he looked much too haggard and tired to bare.

The memory of it was vivid and painful, consuming your mind as you walked down the crowded hall to your locker. The first period warning bell however, snapped you back to earth as you found you had mindlessly arrived at your locker, staring at it's open grates blankly for what probably had been longer than most people would. A small clearing of a throat caught your attention and you turned to look at its source. It was Ned Leeds, the always joyful kid from last year's robotics period, his best friend with the perfectly gelled and curled hair who was almost attached to his hip, beside him as usual.

“Are you alright?” he said, a concerned smile on his face. You gave him one back as convincingly as you could, “Yeah, I-I'm fine. Just...really tired that's all.” He gave a small nod looking not so convinced but still friendly as you had often observed him to be,“Alright... Hope I see you in robotics class again! Get some sleep soon.” With a small wave and a gentle chuckle he turned to go, his friend exchanging a small sympathetic but sleepy smile with you as he followed along to whatever class they probably shared. You stood there a little surprised, you hadn't thought anyone ever really noticed you. Ned had never really talked to you either, maybe once or twice when he needed to borrow a tool you had sitting idly at your work table. The short exchange brought a strange feeling that you'd never felt before; the idea of someone noticing you, let alone caring, warmed you.

As robotics class rolled around you took your usual spot in the back right corner of the shop, only this time however your neighbors were Ned and his friend. They shot kind familiar smiles your way as they walked in at the final warning bell for last period. You smiled back, the confusion at the attention obvious on your face. Ned turned around to speak across the ways to his pal who sat at the work area next to you. “I'm so hyped! We finally got robotics during the same period dude. Now we can work on all THOSE things we've been talking about! We'll finish so many projects in no time now. That will definitely free up LEGO building time.” His friend gave a strangely warning cough and followed it with a light chuckle. “Yeah man, lets just not talk about THAT right now,” He said as his eyes rolled slightly in your direction, “BUT I did JUST get a new model of the Poe Dameron X-Wing!” You pondered the eye movement suspiciously as Ned caught the suggestion and went along with changing the subject. “NO WAY!? WE HAVE TO HANG OUT SOON AND START IT! I hope the internship this year doesn't take up most of your free time again”, he said. You caught faint babble from time to time over last year about the guy's Stark Internship way too many times. Mostly from people like Flash Thompson who doubted if he really even had one in the first place. Ned's voice suddenly caught your attention after you had managed to tune out their conversation.

“Oh umm btw, we were wondering if maybe you'd like to sit with us at lunch tomorrow? It's totally cool if you cant, I know some people don't have the same lunch period. We just thought you might like to join us, not to sound mean or anything but you don’t seem to have any friends. Nobody should like eat alone so we though why not just bless us with your company!? Our friend MJ usually sits with us too...kinda. You'd probably like her!” He seemed like a nice enough kid, you weren’t offended at all. You were honestly a little shocked, again, that anyone even noticed you. You had kept to yourself most of the time because your life and your father were too hectic, infamous, and quite honestly shameful to let people know you were the daughter of New York’s best cat burglar. 

You looked at his friend to asses the sincerity of the invitation. A very sweet and assuring look was written on his face, the light freckles and the brown of his irises seemed to impossibly smile at you too. “Umm yeah sure. I don't mind. Not eating alone might be nice for a change. I'm (y/n) btw. I don't think we've ever really met or spoken to each other, I’m sorry” you said, extending your hand to Ned and then his friend. Ned gave a happy giggle as he shook your hand and introduced himself, the excitement of making a new friend evident in his bright grin and blushing cheeks. “It's nice to meet you (y/n),” the friend replied, the almost dancingly high tone of his voice taking you by surprise, “I'm Peter, Peter Parker.”  Maybe this year wouldn't be as lonely as the last...

[igotanaddixon]

Fallen Stars (Thorin x OC)

A/N: Hi guys! Here is the next chapter for Fallen Stars! I hope that you will like it! Thank you for all the kind words you guys sent me for this story! Love you! 

Fandom: The Hobbit 

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x OC (Elentári) 

Tag list: @weirdnewbie @villainlove @fizzy-custard @fictionalquintessence @ealasaid @xalexandriaxk @maidenadventure @sdavid09 @lainternettuale @deepestfirefun @shewalksinanotherworld @fangirl570

Prologue 

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4 --> Current read 

Chapter 5 

Elentári’s outfit: 

Chapter 4: Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart… This is not enough.

The next day, Elen made sure to stay away from Thorin. She avoided his eyes when he tried to start a conversation or when he was simply staring at her. His temper was really getting on her nerves. However, Elentári couldn’t deny that his behavior hurt her feelings. It was an odd feeling for the elf because she was used to receive hate and disdain from others but she seemed to crave for Thorin’s kindness and approval. Elen shook her head as she rode next to Bilbo, the hobbit was telling her about the Shire and Hobbits’ traditions while Gandalf and a few others listened as well.

The day went by rather quickly and soon the company decided to camp for the night near the edge of a cliff. Thorin asked Fili and Kili to take the first watch and Elen stayed awake with them. The half-elf tried to stay away from the moon light. She wasn’t ready to show the entire company how her skin would shine with ancient blue runes as the cold light of the moon kissed her skin. They were already suspicious with the half-elf, Elen didn’t need to add some glowing moon runes to her situation.

After dinner, Fili, Kili and Elen settled before the fire, their backs against the hard rock of the mountain above and their eyes focused on the darkness. Elen sighed and watched everyone sleep, she noticed that Gandalf and Balin weren’t sleeping among the others, discussing something in hushed whispers. Fili took his pipe out and lit it while Elen watched Thorin sleep.

The king was sleeping sat on a rock next the fire, his back against the rock wall and his hands on his lap. He didn’t look as if he was peacefully sleeping, his face was tensed and his entire body stiff. Nevertheless, Elentári was entranced by his beauty. The king was tall for a dwarf, his body strong with hard muscles and rough skin. His hair was so dark that the few white steaks that shew his age, almost sparkled through the night. The position he was sleeping in gave Elen’s eyes a better access to his throat and the elleth blushed as her eyes followed the line of his throat to see soft black hair vanish into his shirt and armor.

Kili noticed his new friend staring at his uncle and nudged his brother then gestured in the woman’s direction with a knowing smirk on his lips. At first, Fili frowned at his little brother but then followed his gaze and saw the bashful looking elleth staring at his king. Fili smirked and winked at Kili before deciding to speak up.

“Like what you see, miss Elen?” Fili’s voice made the half-elf jump, her eyes blinked several times as if she had been brought out of a dream in the middle of the night.

“W… What?” She asked out, her head looking from her left to her right as if she was disoriented. Fili and Kili chuckled and shared a look.

“You seemed to like whatever you saw on our uncle.” Kili stated, smirking knowingly at the woman. Elen scoffed and glared at the young dwarves.

“I was just thinking.” She defended herself.

“Oh, aye! Thinking about how handsome our uncle is!” Kili exclaimed and Elen suddenly grabbed a wooden stick one the floor next to her and threw it at the poor young dwarf in an attempt to shush him. Kili ducked and laughed while his brother shook his head in disbelief and amusement.

“Shush you oaf!” Elen said playfully. “Your uncle made it clear that he despises me anyway.” She muttered, looking away and into the fire. The two brothers looked at each other then back at the elleth.

“He does not despise you, Elen…” Fili said and reached a warm hand to squeeze the poor woman’s shoulder.

“He’s just really… confused.” Kili offered as a consolation. Elen sighed and shrugged, not daring to look at her friends.

“Don’t worry, lads. I’m used to it.” She said, Fili and Kili were ready to answer but suddenly a loud snore made them jump and after a few second of silence, the tree of them started to laugh.

Elen observed as Gloin slept; tiny flying insects got sucked into his nose every time he inhaled, and they were expelled when he exhaled. Elen chuckled when she noticed Bilbo watching the scene in disgust. The hobbit finally got up and walked around. He couldn’t sleep with all the snoring of the dwarves combined and Elen started to wonder if she would ever be able to sleep on this journey. Bilbo walked over to his pony and Elen saw him give her an apple but not before checking to see that no one was looking. The half-elf quickly looked down and smiled at herself as Bilbo finally gave the apple to the pony.

“Hello, girl. That’s a good girl. It’s our little secret, Myrtle; you must tell no one. sh, sh” Bilbo’s hushed voice said. Elentári was probably the only one who was capable of hearing the hobbit, making her smile even bigger. However, a scream rang out into the night making Fili and Kili tensed as Bilbo turned around scared and ran back toward the fire.

“What was that?” The frightened hobbit asked. Elen’s eyes scanned the horizon beyond the cliff, her right hand running across the handle of her sword.

“Orcs.” Kili seriously said as another scream is heard. Elen saw Thorin jerk awake upon hearing the word “Orcs.” He looked around in alert, his hand gripping the handle of his sword as well. His eyes landed on his nephew then on Elen and he noticed the alert state she was also in.

“Orcs?” Bilbo asked, not knowing what those vile creatures were.

“Throat­cutters. There’ll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them.” Fili answered, as seriously as his brother.

“They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood.” Kili added but this time, Elen heard the playful tone in the young dwarf’s voice and she glared at him. Bilbo looked away in fright; Fili and Kili then looked at each other and began laughing. Elen rolled her eyes and punched Fili on his arm.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed playfully but Thorin’s voice stopped any complains coming from the Durin brothers.

“You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” Thorin said in a bitter tone as he got up and stood before his nephews.

“We didn’t mean anything by it.” Kili told his uncle as he looked down in shame. Thorin looked at his nephew in anger and disappointment.

“No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world.” The dwarf king hissed then he walked away to stood at the edge of the cliff, his hands crossed behind his back and his eyes absently staring into the darkness of the night. Elen watched him for a while but her eyes turned to look at Balin as he walked to talk to the young dwarves. He stood next to Elen and leant against the rock wall on his arm.

“Don’t mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs.” Balin started, earning Elen’s attention. “After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first.”

Elen closed her eyes, as flashes of the Battle of Azanulbizar plaid before her eyes. Thousands of dwarves and orcs fighting in front of the gates of Moria, blood and death everywhere… Elen shook her head as screams of death filled her ears. A massive, pale, orc wiped out many dwarves with his mace, then Elen could remember seeing the Orc engage King Thror in battle.

“Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs lead by the most vile of all their race: Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began…” Balin’s voice waved with grief. “By beheading the King.” The old dwarf said as Elen opened her eyes to watch Thorin from her spot next to Fili.

Bilbo was listening closely to Balin’s tale, Fili and Kili as well. Elen’s eyes trailed up Thorin’s back, still remembering his agonizing scream as Azog - having defeated King Thror - held up his beheaded head as he roared and then flung the head, which bounced and rolled to Thorin’s feet. Elen sighed then looked back at Balin.

“Thrain, Thorin’s father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us.” The old dwarf said, sorrow clouding his eyes until he turned his head to look at Thorin.

“That is when I saw him: a young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc.” Elen remembered struggling to reach the prince and the orc. Thorin was facing Azog alone and he finally got knocked away. Thorin fell down an embankment and landed on the ground before the helpless half-elf. However, at this time Elen was trying not to be seen by the dwarves, using her energy and her essence to move as quickly as she could. She could only be seen as a flash… A flash of white light and of a glowing warrior’s silhouette.

“He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent…wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield.” Fili and Kili listened on, completely absorbed into the story as Elentári shook because of the intense memory.

She remembered seeing Azog leap to smash Thorin, but Thorin, grabbing an oaken branch lying on the round, managed to roll away in time and avoid the mortal hit. Azog continued wielding his mace against Thorin, who was still on the ground, but Thorin blocked the mace with the oaken branch - which he uses as a shield - over and over. Azog swung one last time and Thorin, grabbing a sword lying nearby, cut off Azog’s left arm from below the elbow. Elen recalled seeing Azog clutch the stump of his arm as he howled in pain.

“Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken.” Balin said, his voice waving with emotion and pride for his king. Elen looked at the two brothers next to her, they were wearing proud small smiles on their faces.

The elf then remembered that she started to back off when Azog was rushed into Moria by other orcs and when Thorin started to lead his people, yelling “Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!” to rally the dwarves to battle.

“Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song, that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived.” Balin looked down as he remembered the death of his and Dwalin’s father that day.

Finding his body had been terrible for Balin. Elen had watched from far away, she saw the desolation, the sadness, the pain and sorrow that gripped the dwarves’ hearts as they searched the dead for they loved ones. And she remembered seeing him too. The young dwarf prince who had defeated the pale orc and saved his people yet once again.

Elen’s eyes landed on Thorin as he turned away from the view beyond the cliff; the entire Company watching him as they stood wide awake and in awe while staring at their king. Thorin looked at them quickly then walked between the dwarves toward the fire. His posture still as stiff because of the painful memory he had been drown into just a few minutes before. At this moment, Elentári knew why they were following him. He was their king but he also gave them hope.

“But the pale orc? What happened to him?” Bilbo suddenly asked Balin as he sat on a small rock next to the fire.

“He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago.” Thorin almost growled at the hobbit while he walked back to his sleeping spot.

Elen frowned then glanced at Gandalf from under her eyelashes. The old wizard glanced at her then at Balin, the three of them worriedly sharing a knowing look. Elen’s eyes then landed on Thorin who was already watching her with dark eyes. Elen blushed then look down at her hands. Thorin knew that she had been affected by Balin’s tale but the truth about her was beyond what he could imagine or even suspect.

After that, the dwarves went back to sleep, Bilbo too. Elen stayed awake with Fili and Kili, her eyes watching Thorin sleep for a while before she finally decided to focus on sleeping before dawn. The next day would be really demanding…

  Dawn came too quickly for Elentári, she hadn’t been able to sleep more than 3 hours last night after recalling the horror of the Battle of Azanulbizar. Consequently, her mood was execrable when she woke up. The dwarves had quickly eaten a light breakfast before everyone was already back on their ponies and ready to leave. Bilbo couldn’t help but yawn over and over as he sat on his pony, making Gandalf smile at the poor hobbit. Elen kept to herself during the entire morning, partly because of her mood but also because of the rain that started to pour down on them.

Elentári might have been an elf but she was quite different from the rest of her kind. She could feel the cold, the heat, the humidity… She could be bothered by the rain while other elves couldn’t care less. Elen sighed as she shook under her thick coat, she tightened the hood even more over her head in an attempt to stay dry and put on her black leather gloves. The dwarves weren’t as affected by the rain, they were always warm (something that Elen secretly felt jealous of) but some of them seemed bothered by the constant rain as they couldn’t smoke their pipes and their clothes were drenched, clutching to their skin. As Elen looked around to see how the company was doing she saw that they looked cold, wet, and miserable. Even if they were dwarves.

“Here, Mr. Gandalf, can’t you do something about this deluge?” Dori asked Gandalf who seemed as grumpy as Thorin that day.

“It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done.” Gandalf answered, annoyed by the rain and the dwarf. “If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.”

“Are there any?” Bilbo asked curious.

“What?” Gandalf turned his head to the hobbit.

“Other wizards?” Bilbo clarified.

“There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards…” Gandalf said and Elen could see that the wizard couldn’t remember the two other wizards. “You know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.”

“Alatar and Pallando.” Elentári piped in, riding Shadowfax next to Gandalf.

“Ah yes, yes, indeed! Thank you, dear.” Gandalf thanked Elen. The elleth waved her hand at him as if to say ‘don’t mention it’.

“And who is the fifth?” Bilbo asked as Elen already smile, knowing who was the last one.

“Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown.” Gandalf said, looking at Elen with a kind smile. The other wizards did not like Radagast but Gandalf understood the lonely wizard and he even considered him his friend. Then Bilbo said something that made Elen completely loose control.  

“Is he a great Wizard or is he...more like you?” The hobbit asked, innocently. Gandalf looked slightly offended as Elen burst out laughing. She bent forward on her horse, holding her stomach as she laughed hysterically. That hobbit had definitely brightened up her mood. Gandalf glared at Elen who was trying to control herself as she wiped the joyful tears away from her cheeks.

“I think he’s a very great wizard, in his own way. He’s a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world.” Gandalf answered the hobbit, trying to keep him composure.

Thorin watched as the half-elf laughed. Her laugh had rung as a beautiful melody into his ears and his heart had stopped for a second. The grumpy dwarf had turn around and it was even worse. His heart started to hammered against his chest as his eyes landed on Elen. She was beautiful with her huge grin on her face and with the look of happiness that lingered on her face afterward. Her mood seemed to have an impact on the entire company, and on Thorin’s nephews especially.

Thorin hated the way he felt every time he looked at the elleth. He hated the fact that he was supposed to hate her but deep down couldn’t. He wanted to hate her, he wanted to be indifferent but that day like the last night he desperately wanted to keep her safe, to cradle her into his arms every night so she would feel safe enough to sleep. The King wanted to understand. He wanted to know who she truly was and what it was that he was feeling. The warmth that spread into his heart was so unknown for him… He did not know if he truly liked it or not.

  The day passed by quickly once again and at some point, during the afternoon, the sun had come back. Elen removed her cloak and let her clothes dry as the warm sun kissed her skin. Unfortunately, the elleth had forgotten that she was wearing a white flannel under her leather jacket. When she removed the jacket, her white shirt stuck to her skin, showing her curves in a way that she didn’t feel comfortable with. The brown leather corset she was wearing over her shirt wasn’t really hiding anything. Elen blushed as she saw the king’s eyes on her for a brief second before he looked away. However, the other dwarves did not seem to notice so she waited silently until her clothes dried.

The sun quickly started to set as the company arrived at an old, abandoned farmhouse that was in ruins. It looked burnt down and destroyed but Elen felt something evil in the air. She looked around the place still on her horse. Shadowfax tossed his head and neighed to show his discomfort.

“I know, Shadowfax. I can feel it too.” Elen told her horse friend as she ran her hand through his mane soothingly. The dwarves dismounted their ponies, following Thorin’s lead.

“We’ll camp here for the night.” The dwarf king said. “Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them.” Thorin told the two brothers. Elen glanced at them with a smirk, knowing that the king was making them pay for their joke on orcs. Kili rolled his eyes and Fili looked determinate to prove his value to his uncle. Elen quickly tended to her horse and gave the reins to Fili before following Gandalf as he walked into the ruined farmhouse.

“A farmer and his family used to live here.” The wizard said out loud but it was obvious that he was lost in his mind and not talking to someone in particular.

“Oin, Gloin.” Elen heard Thorin voice from her place next to Gandalf.

“Aye.” Gloin answered.

“Get a fire going.” Thorin ordered as he walked in Gandalf and Elen’s direction.

“Right you are.” Gloin answered.

“I think it would be wiser to move on.” Gandalf spoke out loud as Thorin appeared behind them.

“It’s not safe here.” Elen added just above a whisper as she tried to understand what happened to the family who lived in the farmhouse.

“We could make for the Hidden Valley.” Gandalf told the dwarf king who turned around and glared at the wizard.

“I have told you already, I will not go near that place.” The stubborn dwarf said, his eyes dark at the mention of elves.

“Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice.” Gandalf tried to persuade Thorin. His voice was gentle but Elen could hear the annoyed tone behind his words.

“I do not need their advice.” Thorin said glaring at Gandalf once more and moving from one foot to another in annoyance. Elen rolled her eyes.

“I understand why you hate Thranduil, trust me I do not like him either but Lord Elrond is completely different.” Elen tried to explain but Thorin turned his dark eyes to her.

“I told you before, I don’t care about what you think, elf!” Thorin barked suddenly, making Elen’s eyes widen.

“Are you behaving like that with all women? Or are you just a pig with me?” Elen asked the king with a sarcastic smile on her features. Thorin’s eyes widen and he took a step toward the elleth but Gandalf took a step to interfere.

“We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us.” The wizard said.

“Help?” Thorin exclaimed. “A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father.” The dwarf looked betrayed that the wizard would try to convince him.

“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past.” Gandalf huffed at the dwarf, annoyance evident on his face.

“I did not know that they were yours to keep.” Thorin hissed, darkly. Gandalf looked shocked for a second before her turned around and stomped off angrily, leaving the Company.

“Gandalf!” Elen called out, trying to reason him but she knew that it was no use when the wizard was in this mood. Elen sighed and watched her friend leave helplessly.

“Everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?” Bilbo asked as the wizard stomped past him and Balin. Bilbo looked confused and scared.

“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense.” Gandalf answered in a huff.

“Who’s that?” Bilbo asked genuinely and innocently.

“Myself, Mr. Baggins! I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day.” Gandalf hissed, clearly angry about the situation. Elen sighed and looked back at Thorin as he stepped at the entrance of the ruined house.

“Come on, Bombur, we’re hungry.” Thorin said or ordered as if he didn’t care that the wizard was leaving them to their fate.

“Is he coming back?” Bilbo worried Bilbo asked to Balin. The old dwarf sighed and looked rather unsure.

This fight and Thorin’s mean words from earlier made Elen turn to face Thorin. She had enough pf his behavior, they needed Gandalf and his stubbornness was starting to get dangerous if it cost them the wizard’s skills and protection.

“Thorin… You should reconsider what Gandalf said. I know that you don’t trust the elves but the elves of Imladris are wiser and…” Elen said as she walked closer to Thorin but the king stopped her as he screamed at her.

“I do not care about those elves! I didn’t ask for your advice, half-breed! I did not want you here, try not to forget that! You’re not part of this company. The wizard forced my hand and now that he’s gone, it is just a matter of time that I send you away to roam this earth alone because no one will ever care about a half-breed elf like you!” Thorin shouted in the elleth face, hissing the last part with his eyes clouded by anger and hate. Elen gasped and walked backward in fear, she held her arms up to cover her face as she truly thought that the dwarf was going to hit her but nothing arrived. Elen lowered her arms and looked at the king in fear then suddenly his words hit her, she felt her heart clench as she watched the anger slowly vanish from the dwarf’s face and realization hit him. ‘You’re not part of this company,’ ‘it is just a matter of time that I send you away to roam this earth alone’, ‘no one will ever care about a half-breed elf like you’… Thorin’s words replayed in her head over and over as her biggest fear came back from the deep pit of her past. ‘No one will ever love you…’ a voice said in her head and before she could control it, hot tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at the dwarf before her.

His face was now a mix of guilt and horror at his own words but Elen couldn’t understand why he hated her that much. Thorin tried to reach a hand to hold her arm but fear gripped Elen’s heart again and she took another step back. Unfortunately, the elleth tripped over a wooden log and fell backward. She let out a small scream of pain as a tick branch pierced through the flesh of her right arm when she collided with the floor. The company tried to help her up and Thorin tried to walk closer but she rolled on her side and got up quickly, tears still running down her cheeks.

“Lass, let me look at it.” Oin tried to reach for Elen’s arm but she quickly backed up and ran to grab her bag on the floor. She called for Shadowfax, feeling breathless and suffocating as everyone watched her. They all tried to stop her except Thorin. He knew that he had crossed the line with the elleth. He knew that he had make a huge mistake by letting his anger go on her.

“Elen, wait! Where are you going?” Bilbo tried to stop her but she did not glance his way.

“Lass, please. You’re bleeding.” Oin tried as well.

Soon Bofur also tried to reason with the elleth but she simply tried to hide her face from everyone until she was on her horse and ready to leave. Then, she turned her face to stare at Thorin, her eyes filled with tears but empty of all life.

“You once said that all you asked for was loyalty, honor, and a willing heart… that you could ask no more than that… But that’s not true, this is not enough.” Elentári said before turning away and Shadowfax bolted down the hill, taking her far away from the company.

Far away from Thorin Oakenshield.

Tell me what you think! 

xxx Lisy 

[thegamecollection]

Destiny 2 - Review Roundup So Far! (Final Scores Pending)

Since its release a short while ago, ‘Destiny 2′ has been stealing hundreds of hours (and sleep) from gamers worldwide! With it’s iconic predecessor breaking new ground in its success, the guys and girls at Bungie had an Earth levelling battle on their hands to come up with the goods. Well the reviewers have had their say (as much as they can after 8 days of gameplay) and the results are certainly very positive! It’s difficult for these guys to get a finalised review out when there’s so much content to get through. We’ll be updating this post when all scores are finalised but for now, we’ve compiled the big names right here so you don’t have to go venturing off aimlessly into the solar system!

IGN - 8.2/10 (Not Final)

“I loved that we had to call out the elemental type that was currently active and help the person who’d been appropriately equipped to jump into the fray as the other two of us supported from behind. As enemies died, seconds were added to the clock, but we fell short of one quest, clocking in at the three-minute-remaining mark on our third runthrough. Instead of feeling defeated because we failed to hit the five-minute mark, I was left excited to go back again with my second character and give it another shot, using what I’d learned from the failure. This is where the teamwork and gameplay mechanics of Destiny 2 shine, and forcing you to pick your gear carefully adds a layer of strategy I’m really loving.”

Read the full pre-review here.

Gamespot - No Score (Daily Updates)

“I couldn't sleep last night. I'm fully in just-one-more-thing mode. Just one more challenge. Just one more round in the Crucible. Just one more hour and maybe I'll get the gear I never knew I needed. I'm at 269 Power as of Monday afternoon, and there's still so much to do[...] I definitely feel more accomplished, or maybe more rewarded, than I did in the first Destiny. Grinding and repetition still exist, but the benefits you get from grinding are more immediate; getting to the late-game stuff isn't the frustrating slog it used to be.”

Read the daily updates so far here.

Polygon - Review in progress

“At the very least, what I’ve played of Destiny 2 is an incredibly promising start. In plain English, it feels like Destiny without all the bull****. It seems like the sequel Bungie needed to make — not a fundamentally different experience, but improved enough over its predecessor to reel veterans back in and attract people who skipped the original Destiny. Now we have to see how it holds up.”

Read the full pre-review here.

Destructoid - 7.5/10 (Good)

“Everything is flashier and more functional in Destiny 2. Instead of sticking with a tried and true subclass, I loved experimenting with all three for Warlock, Titan, and Hunter, trying new combos out with friends and trying to synergize class abilities. The end result is that everyone has more utility, and there's less room for cookie-cutter builds (though they'll still exist when the raid rolls around). It took years, but they're pretty close to getting balance right.Even the story is flashier, which mostly works in its favor. Sure it might basically be a re-telling of several Star Wars beats, but it's easy to follow and even easier to get invested in, with the game's cast coming front and center. Every performance, including Lance Reddick's Zavala and Nathan Fillion's Cayde-6, feel less phoned in, and some of the newcomers have already cemented their place in the Destiny universe.”

Read the full review here.

GameRevolution - 4.5/5

“Destiny 2 is just as visual pleasing as it is to play. Bungie are masters of gun-play and it's no different here. The much needed quality-of-life improvements like removing the trio of primary, special, and heavy weapons in favor of the less restrictive categories of kinetic, energy, and power weapons are much appreciated. This is in addition to more plentiful ammo, smarter enemy AI, and more accessible multiplayer.”

Read the full review here.

GamesRadar - No Score (Daily Updates)

“The addition of the Destination Map means no more losing time hovering in space. You’re always doing something, heading into a helpfully labelled public event, journeying to a distant planet, levelling up with the planet’s overseer for engrams. Destiny 2 is constantly moving, focussing on all the ways you want to keep playing and making it easier than ever. Even little tweaks like your best armour not actually having to be on you to make sure you’re getting higher drops. The niggles you had, the places you had to stop, these are gone, instead replaced with only the desire to keep on Destiny-ing. And that’s, quite frankly, better than ever.”

Read the full pre-review here.

So there we have it(for now! Keep checking back as this will be updated when scores are finalised) It seems that Bungie have succeeded in making the sequel that everyone was screaming for. If you’re ready to suit up and lend a hand then you can purchase your copy on PS4 & Xbox One, as well as PC being pre-orderable right here with us at The Game Collection!

Happy hunting, Guardians...

-Jack

[misc-oneshots]

Bad jokes and Perfect hair

Hope you get well soon! May I make a request for a fanfic once you’re better? I thought I’d seen a primeval fic written by you once before so can I please request a Becker x female reader fic? Feel free to write whatever plot you’d like but nothing too angsty and a happy ending please :)

Captain Hilary James Becker x Female Reader  For Anon Words: 2007

Always send me Primeval Reqs, Connor Temple remains to be my ideal man. Part of this is taken from Jurassic Park 2.

“I’m not being rude, I’m just surprised you have friends.” Becker had chided at Connor when he’d first mentioned you. “Well, actually, that was very rude.” Connor said and looked to Abby for backup who rolled her eyes at the men. That was the first time Becker had learnt of your existence, it seemed like forever ago now but he remembered it well because it was the first time the team seemed to trust him.

You had no involvement in the ARC at first, you were a close friend of Connor and, through him, Abby. It killed him that he couldn’t tell you the truth, about the dinosaurs, the ARC and the anomalys, he knew how much help you could be. But Lester would hear none of it, the ARC was invite only and you were a newly qualified palaeontologist, there was no reason to bring you onto the team.

Cutter had always predicted that Connor would eventually spill the beans and that you’d make a great member of the team and he was right. In fairness there wasn’t much more that Connor could do, he’d gotten a call about a Spinosaurus Aegyptiacus running amok on the M1, he knew the dinosaur was larger than a T-Rex, he’d need as much help as he could get. It helped that you were with him when he’d gotten the call.

It took some convincing, and by convincing, you didn’t believe him.

But in the end his pleading got you to go with him and you figured that you might as well go with him because: one, either he had really lost it and he needed your help to make sure that he didn’t hurt himself or someone body else or two, let’s just say for a moment that he could be telling the truth and there was really a dinosaur that you’d studied trashing the motorway and you could help stop it.

So you went with him and let him drive so that you could google on your phone how easy it was to commit somebody for insanity, surprisingly easy as it happens. It would be easy to say that you were shocked when it turned out Connor was right but honestly you were more preoccupied by the mighty beast flipping over empty cars with its massive snout on the abandoned motorway. If anything the crew were more shocked by your reaction to the dinosaur which was essentially running after it down the road. Action man, as Connor called him at the time, tried to catch you but you dodged him by ducking around a flipped car.

In the end he rugby tackled you, not hard enough to injured you but hard enough to scrape your knees and elbows as you crashed to the floor. He was shouting at you, some barking military order that he seemed to think you should take note off but you were too busy staring. It was a real life dinosaur.

You’d pushed him off and mocked his plan of ‘loud noises’ to push the creature into the anomaly, didn’t he know that he was dealing with what was thought to be the largest carnivore to ever prowl the earth? You were pushed back with Connor and Abby and they shot at the dinosaur until it was pushed back into the anomaly then Connor rushed forwards to mess with something until the shining spark closed. You took a moment to look around at the size of the military operation; Connor had clearly put himself in danger by telling you about the dinosaur so you found it hard to be mad at him for keeping it a secret for so long.

He ran back over to check that you were okay before asking, “Are we still friends?” “Of course you idiot.” You laughed.

He officially introduced you to Becker, though you much preferred the name Army Man, Connor knew that he’d finally got his way and would be able to get you into the ARC. “You’re not going to do some weird Men in Black memory easer type thing to me, are you?” you asked Becker, his face was full of scorn that he’d had to deal with another run away palaeontologist, like he didn’t have enough to deal with Connor, Cutter and Abby.

He didn’t like your joke, “You could have gotten yourself killed, you know that?” You couldn’t help yourself, “Correction, I could have gotten us both killed.” Behind Becker you could see Connor but his face in his hands at your quip. Becker gave you a level look, “So you’re Connor’s dinosaur friend? The palaeontologist.” “No what Connor means by that is I’m an actual dinosaur pretending to be a person.” You joked. It took a moment of Becker’s blank expression for you to realise that he didn’t appreciate your jokes.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a joke, I’ve just seen a bloody dinosaur, I’m in shock okay?”

That was how you joined the ARC.

—-

It took two weeks of working together for him to get used to your humour and for you to learn that you weren’t allowed to run up to the dinosaurs. He’d only had to tackle you once or twice more until you understood that.

A friendship developed between you that neither expected, you respected how hard he worked to keep you all safe and he found it easier to ask you any questions about the creatures you were following because Connor always went off on a tangent and Cutter was always slightly mocking.

You’d been working closely together for four months when Becker realised that he’d done something very, very, stupid. He’d fallen for you. He absolutely had fallen head over hells for not only someone that he worked with but someone that he was paid to protect. Becker was furious with himself, he couldn’t let anyone get hurt because he was distracted by you. So he started to distance himself from you but eventually he had to stop because you’d approached him quietly and asked him if you’d done something to offend him.

He’d lied and said he had a lot on his mind and stopped pulling away from you and you’d fallen back into your habits of him coming around to your place to hang out and watch, of all things, Jurassic Park.

You were happy to have Becker back to normal, you’d missed your gym sessions where he kicked your ass and your easy conversations during quiet times in the ARC. You’d been worried that maybe he was avoiding you because he’d realised that you had feelings for him.

You were both in one of the ARC labs when you decided to pester him, “Hey Hils?” He groaned, he really regretted the day that you’d seen his file and his full name. He didn’t answer. “Hilly I’m talking to you.” You teased. “Stop it.” He snapped but his expression was soft. “Oh Hils why are you being so mean?” You asked spinning on the high lab chair. Becker stepped over to you and put his hands on either side of the chair to stop it so that you were facing him. You swallowed hard, did he always smell this good? “Final warning, stop.” He told you, his expression smug. You knew what he was threatening, he was going to tickle you, your one weakness, and he knew that you couldn’t escape with his thick arms on either side of you. “Okay.” You pouted before adding, “That’s very mean of you Hilary.” “Right!” He said as his hands dove to your side tickling you. You squealed and jumped forwards, practically splatting against his chest, he chuckled deeply and caught you. Becker looked down at you, practically bundled into his arms. You looked up at him and gave him a shaky smile and it hit both of you how close you were. In the back of his mind, Becker knew that he should never have gotten this close to you, not at work, but it didn’t stop his head inclining down towards you and gently brushing his lips over yours.

You sighed into the kiss and ran your hands up his chest and up over his shoulders to run into his hair which was always so damn perfect. He was still practically holding you up and too him in a sturdy but soft grip. The kiss was softer than you would have ever expected from someone who always shot first and asked later.

A blazing alarm made you jump away from each, chests heavying not from the kiss but from the surprise. “We should-” he started. “Yeah.” You agreed and then you were both running towards the alarm.

—-

It had taken you five minutes in the vans to get to the anomaly in the grounds of a large estate, Becker had taken that brief time to fix his perfect hair.  The vans had been parked around the anomaly and it had quickly become apparent that you were dealing with a herd. You caught side of the dinosaur briefly before you were yanked behind a van by Becker. “What are we dealing with?” He breathed, his hand left your arm and his gun was raised. “Pachycephalosaurus.” You told him and he gave you the proud look that he always did when you reeled off ridiculous names with ease. “Is it going to eat my men?” He asked you, business as always. You shook your head, “No, herbivore, Late Cretaceous. See the dome skull, its solid bone. The neck attaches at the bottom of its skull so when it lowers its head it lines up directly with the spine. Its essentially a battering ram.”

Becker was absorbing the intel when, as if on que, the van you were hiding behind was rammed into you. Becker snatched your arm and yanked you both out of the way just in time. “Thanks.” You breathed, his gun was raised again, “Don’t shoot it, it’s just scared.”

Eventually you drove the vans in a circle around the pack and herded them into the anomaly. The anomaly was kept open and guarded by Becker’s guys while the rest of you split up in the grounds to make sure that you’d got them all. You went with Becker and walked in silence for the most part, dinosaurs and your kiss on both of your minds. Your phoned buzzed and you read out the messaged from Connor, “They think that’s the entire herd. The anomaly has closed naturally, time to go.” Becker nodded and moved his gun so that it was strapped to his back and when you were both walking back he coughed to get your attention, “Are we okay? About the kiss?”

That was Becker all over, straight to the point. Gathering your courage you decided to just go for it, “Yeah we’re okay. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if we did it again.” You shrugged and continued walking like you hadn’t just admitted anything. Becker caught your hand and you stopped, when you turned his lips were on yours instantly.

Your hand found his perfect hair again and his hands held your body to him. He was the first to pull away, “Maybe this isn’t something we should be doing right now.” When your expression fell he added, “It’s not really work appropriate, is it?” “Neither is your hair, Hils.” You joked and then laughed as he rushed to push down his hair as you headed back to the guys.

[michaelbartram]

Illusion (For previous chapters read below in reverse order starting with Prologue)

Chapter 5

 ‘Where am I?’

He opened his eyes. For a second... These walls, the shutter… Where? Of course. Slowly he breathed out. Morning. Linen lavender-fresh, heaven-smooth against the skin. Silence. Peace. A noise from outside. Tsk,tsk,tsk. Prodding, pushing. Tsk,tsk,tsk.

‘A garden hoe,’ he murmured. Brisk, workman-like intrusions into Mother Earth from just beneath his window.

Peace indeed.

He glanced at Felicia, asleep on her front. Hair falling wantonly across her cheek. Lips open. The restless sleeper had wrenched the sheet all night and in the last throes bared her buttocks.

He considered Felicia’s gorgeous culo. If he touched it now – could he without her muttering ‘Get off, pendejo’? – his fingertips would feel… Ah, the perfect curve and smoothness of it.

He advanced his outstretched hand.

From outside, a call, questioning, sharp. His homing hand stopped.  Playfully slapping it with the other hand, he fell back.

‘Peacocks.’

He smiled to himself, remembering a conversation with an elderly literary friend. They had been discussing Sanskrit love poems. The old man had said, ‘That showy bird, who when marooned in Europe, wanders the lawns of country houses without purpose, was in the East born to a task.’

‘Which was?’

‘He was the mount of the Hindu god of love. In arcane lore the peacock stood for impatient desire.’ The man of letters smiled mischievously. ‘Like yours, Claudio.’

‘Mine?’

‘Book-lover though you are, my friend, I believe you’re more interested in women than literature.’

‘Does one or the other have to come first?’

‘Assuredly.’

The friend’s stare conveyed a blend of guile and innocence. ‘All in all,’ he added, ‘women are probably a safer choice.’

Delightfully paradoxical, but how wrong. Women were far more dangerous to Claudio than any book.

Impatient desire. He glanced back at Felicia’s bare rump and was stabbed with both lust and annoyance that she, not he, would determine when he might next satisfy it.

The cry, sounding again, mocked him.

Best to get up. He reached for his dressing-gown, opened the shutters and with a flourish stepped out onto the balcony. His jaw fell. ‘Buenos cielos! Now that is something.’

The sun was rising over snowy peaks. Distant crags fell away to a wide patchwork of field and forest. In the middle distance, off-centre, was the lake. And just as Lazar had promised, there too was the summerhouse. The exquisite structure acted as the focal point of the panorama.

The view was dramatic, yet superbly balanced: ‘classical’ in fact. To complete the effect, the foreground was peopled, as if painted by Claude or Poussin. Gardeners were hard at work with pitchforks and barrows amidst clusters of shrubs and colourful borders. Animating the pattern of paths, lawns and ponds, these early risers scythed and swept, watered and clipped.

Claudio’s eye was drawn back again to the summerhouse, its chinoiserie reflected in the placid waters.

Leaning on the balcony rail, he daydreamed.

‘I am a Chinese poet. The lake waters lap. The morning sun pierces the traceries. Under the pagoda roof I am penning verses. I write of the joys of wine, my mistress’s culo, the passing of all things.’

He lifted his hand to his neck. That scratch. Still it hurt to the touch.

He sensed Felicia stirring behind him. ‘Are you awake?’ he called. ‘Felicia, you must see this.’

Her grunting response hinted at a certain readiness. He moved swiftly through and perched on the bed. ‘Felicia. It’s incredible.’

She levered herself up. She seemed to force a smile. ‘You’re a happy boy then, Claudio.’

‘The v… view. Th… this… silence,’ he stuttered, ‘this… is how it must have been once. They did everything in this silence. Someone hoed and peacocks called across a lawn and nothing, nothing ever ruptured the pre-mechanical quiet.’

‘Mm...’ she said, knitting her brows.

‘You don’t like the idea, maybe, but don’t you see, there was still noise. They got drunk, shouted, brawled. People slammed doors. Then there was the tumult of war, cannons going off, muskets. Just no machines.’

‘Exactly what Lazar said, Claudio. Machines are shit. Oh well, we’ll soon see. I’ll miss my electric toothbrush.’

He reached for her hand. ‘Come outside and see the view. You’ve got to do that.’

She sighed. ‘Ok, but don’t rush me. I’ll be sick of the view by the end.’

He went back outside and gazed, again awestruck. ‘Young people, impressed by trash, utterly unable to recognise the stupendous. What a waste.’

When finally he went back in, he found Felicia, at last vertical, examining their en suite. She opened the chest of drawers releasing aromas of sandalwood and perfume. She ambled through to the bathroom, turned on the gleaming brass taps and watched the water gurgle away.

‘Claudio,’ she called, retrieving two pairs of shining shoes from the corridor. ‘Look.’

‘Just as I hoped,’ he said. ‘I can see my face in the toe caps. Superb service to add to the blissful surroundings.’

‘I thought that would please you.’

There was a knock at the door. A smiling woman in a starched pinafore came in.

‘Where will you be taking your breakfast? I can suggest the veranda. It’s nice and quiet. No cars, no motorbikes, juggernauts. No electric mowers or concrete mixers. No drills, no hedge-cutters, electric mowers, no motorboats.’

‘Just what I was saying,’ said Claudio ‘The silence out there is beyond belief. And indoors, I don’t doubt, a superb absence of radios, TVs, piped music.’

‘You may be sure of that. It’s heaven on earth here, but not,’ she went on, glancing at Felicia, ‘if you want to party. I’ll put the tray out.’

‘Bitch,’ muttered Felicia, as she closed the door. ‘She thinks I’m an airhead.’

Over breakfast, savouring the coffee and rolls, Claudio watched the gardeners come and go and the birds winging over the lake. Felicia had merely humphed when she saw the view but now she allowed her eye to wander and appeared appreciative.

‘Well, that cow brought us nice warm rolls, I’ll say that,’

Claudio touched her leg with his slippered foot. ‘You’re enjoying yourself, eh?’

‘I’m not complaining. I just don’t want to be patronised by a lot of snobs. I get enough of that from you.’

Claudio sighed. ‘Felicia… please… let’s not bicker… Let’s just allow the peaceful spirit of this place to spread balm.’

‘That’s up to you,’ she said, looking away.

‘Anyway,’ said Claudio, ‘that bitch, as you call her, has stepped right out of the Paris Ritz of the 1930s. She has pageboy hair like Garbo’s in certain studio shots. I would like to photograph her in black and white. For a moment I can regret we were not allowed cameras.’

Felicia shrugged. ‘I don’t know why you’d want to photo a snotty cow like that.’

Without rush they finished breakfast. Once dressed, they headed out. The staff were everywhere, tidying and polishing, gliding through with trays, easing trivial anxieties, answering queries.

‘It’s going to be lovely today, we can be sure of that.’

‘Did you have a good night?’

‘We can recommend…’

Claudio saw people he recognised from the journey. Paulus fixed them both with a graveyard stare. Claudio pulled Felicia quickly past. He had no wish to expose her to that lecher all the more since he believed the attraction was mutual.

Next, they came across Elena reading in an alcove. She wore a gown of crushed green velvet. The sunlight played on her long golden hair. As they walked on he murmured to Felicia, ‘A bit posed don’t you think? Look at me, the reader.’

‘She’s a phony,’ Felicia agreed.

Sabatini was in full flood on the front steps.

‘Let’s steer clear of him,’ said Claudio.

Hand in hand, they stepped out. The air was deliciously moist and scent-laden. Tangy smells drew Claudio to the herb garden secluded behind an old brick wall. Felicia picked some aromatic eaves and crushed them between her fingers, which she held up to Claudio’s nostrils.

‘There you are, Claudio, try that.’

He sniffed, then reeled back. ‘It’s disgusting!’

‘Valerian. It smells of tomcats. I grew up with it in our garden at home. That’ll teach you to be such a romantic.’

He eyed her breasts, full under her pale cotton shirt. Beads of sweat glistened in her cleavage.

‘Kiss me, Felicia.’

‘If you promise to stop ogling my tits.’

‘You like it.’

‘Do I?’

He moved towards her. She closed her eyes. She seemed ready after all.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel. Claudio cursed. They moved apart. It was Paulus, still wearing his dark suit, carrying two wicker baskets.

‘Good morning,’ he said, without smiling. ‘You missed the announcement. We are to wander at will through the orchards. Mulberry, pear, peach, apple and cherry. The real taste of uncontaminated fruit. It’s all here for us to enjoy. We are to pick what we want. They even handed out these baskets.’ He handed one to Felicia.

Paulus began picking and placing fruit in his basket. Felicia did likewise, too obediently, it seemed to Claudio, who hovered grumpily.

They moved on in this fashion, Claudio semi-detached, strolling a few paces then stopping and admiring the view, the other two stooping or reaching up to pick from overhanging branches. Paulus would say, ‘That’s a nice one, Felicia.’ Felicia would ask, ‘Can you reach that one for me, Paulus.’

Further up the hill, Felicia, mouth full of ripe peach suddenly cried, ‘Look, windmills.’

Vast white sails joined to clapboard circled grandly against the blue sky, about a dozen in all.

Paulus put his basket down. ‘That’s how windmills used to be. I hear they got a Dutchman here, not an engineer but a historian of science. He knew how it used to be done in old Holland.’

Claudio was damned if he was going to express any interest though in point of fact the windmills intrigued him. Not only did they remind him of Dutch landscape painting, but with his poet’s eye he saw the windmills taking off into the sky, sails cracking, pennants flying, riding the clouds like magical airships.

‘There’s hardly any wind today,’ Paulus continued, ‘but still they turn. It’s like navigation. Adapting the windmills to make electricity, they have to make the most of every breath out here. And store what they get.’

‘Like the Egyptians,’ said Claudio testily.

Paulus turned to him. ‘Eh?’

‘Like the Egyptians in the Seven Years of Plenty, they have to hoard for the lean years. Sometimes, I daresay, there is no wind. They’ve hoarded. They survive.’

‘I’m going down now,’ Paulus said suddenly. ‘I guess our paths will cross again.’

They watched him retreat down the slope, ever incongruous with his suit and fruit basket.

Claudio removed Felicia’s basket from her hand and pulled her to him. Running his hand up between her thighs and breathing heavily he managed at the same time to edge her towards a clump of bushes which in his impatience with Paulus he had already identified as a possible site for outdoor sex. How fortunate that that creepy predator had left them.

‘Hey Claudio, steady on.’

‘Felicia… I want you…’

‘No… Claudio…’

‘Yes, yes…’

She began to remove his hands. He clung on. ‘Dear girl… You don’t know what you do to me…’

‘No, Claudio.’

‘Yes.’

‘No.’  

Finally he pulled away and turned a sharp eye on her.

‘It’s him, isn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘Paulus.’

‘What about Paulus?’

‘You can’t get him out of your mind.’

‘What?’

‘There is attraction between you,’ said Claudio, ‘unlikely though it seems. He has this sexual allure to do with his seediness. He probably lives for the next polvo. Some women sense that in a man and it turns them on even when he’s not good-looking. All they want is a polvo with that man who thinks about a polvo so much.’

She shook her head, a picture of disbelief and scorn.

He went on. ‘I’ve met it before. It’s sick but true. You lie in bed dreaming of a polvo with that gangster. You might as well admit it, Felicia.’ He took her hand. ‘I will forgive you. If you confess, it might even turn me on in. We can incorporate it.’

She rounded on him. ‘Jesus, Claudio you’re crazy. I don’t know if I can deal with this. I’m serious. The deal might have to be off.’

‘Deal? What deal?’

‘Oh hell, Claudio. Just stop questioning me. Questions, questions. What deal? What this? What that? Who are you on the phone to? Who did you see? Do you fancy him? How much did you drink? What drugs did you take? You are not my father. If this holiday is to have any chance of success, just lay off me, do you understand?’

Her lips quivered. She was trembling. Her eye went to the windmill sails, turning and creaking. She seemed to be weighing things up. Grasshoppers and birds made merry.

He was contrite. ‘Felicia, you’re right.’

‘I am right. You’re an idiot.’

‘All will be well, my dear, I promise.’

She looked past Claudio, down at Arcadia, then beyond to the snow-capped mountain peaks.

‘Ok,’ she said, ‘I forgive you. Just don’t ruin it.’

[chris-mukkah]

Maple BACON Cheddar Biscuits

This comes from Joanne Chang's "Baking With Less Sugar" which I got as a b-day gift :B 5 slices thick-cut, applewood smoked BACON (used a bit more maple-flavored BACON instead, not so thick but just as delicious...that, and I wanted the maple to really shine in this) 2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour 2 tsp baking powder 1/2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp kosher salt 1/2 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into 8 to 10 pieces (equivalent to one stick) 3/4 cup creme fraiche (used sour cream instead, same thing) 2/3 cup grade B maple syrup capful of vanilla* (doesn't call for it, but I thought it added a bit more flavor) 2 large eggs 1 tsp cornstarch 1 to 2 heaping tablespoons of water up to 1/4 cup but no more!* (I say this because it was still a bit floury...you still want a dough but not a batter, put it that way.) 1.) Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 300 F (150 c) Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or aluminum foil. (Used parchment, its easier on the clean up) 2.) Lay the bacon on the prepared baking sheet and bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until each strip is crispy and still a bit bendy. Remove from the oven and let cool on the on the baking sheet and RESIST THE URGE to devour said bacon..which was a bit difficult for me to say the least :p When the bacon is cool enough to handle chop into 1/2 in pieces and set aside. 3.) Increase the oven temperature to 350 F (175 c) 4.) Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or with an electric hand mixer - I went by hand all the way), briefly mix the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt on low speed until combined. Add the butter and beat on low speed until combined. Add the butter and beat on low speed for 30 seconds to 1 minute or until the butter is somewhat broken down but there are still pieces about the size of a grape. (Alternatively, use a pastry cutter or two knives to cut the butter into the dry ingredients and proceed as directed.) Add the bacon and Cheddar and beat on low speed for 5 to 10 minutes or until somewhat mixed into the dry ingredients. (If mixing by hand, use a wooden spoon to mix the bacon and Cheddar into the dough.) 5.) In a medium bowl. whisk together the creme fraiche (sour cream), 1/3 cup maple syrup, vanilla, and eggs until thoroughly mixed. With the mixer running on low speed, pour the wet mixture into the flour-butter mixture and beat for 20 to 30 seconds or until the dough just comes together. There will probably still be a little loose flour mixture at the bottom of the bowl. (No kidding, Joanne...which is why I put in the two tablespoons water !) 6.) Remove the bowl from the mixer. Gather and lift the dough with your hands and turn it over in the bowl so that it starts to pick up the loose flour at the bottom. Turn the dough over several times until all the loose flour is mixed in. (With the water I added, this step isn't really necessary and keep in mind I did this all by hand! As long as the dough is all mixed and still a bit 'tacky' you're good to go.) 7.) Dump the dough onto a well-flour work surface and roll into a rectangle about 6 by 10 inches (15 by 25 cm). With a knife or bench scraper, halve the dough lengthwise and cut each half into four pieces to make 8 rectangular biscuits in total. Place the biscuits on the prepared baking sheet. (You can also store these in the freezer individually and tightly wrap in plastic wrap for up to one week. If baking directly from the freezer add 5 to 10 minutes to the baking time and proceed as directed.) ...Truth be told, this dough made about 12 biscuits, and as you can see I don't do rectangles...as for that one missing, that went to the chef *BURP* 8.) Bake for 30 to 35 minutes or until the biscuits are golden brown. Remove the biscuits from the oven and let cool on the baking sheet or on a wire rack. In a small saucepan, whisk together the remaining 1/3 cup maple syrup with 1 tbsp cornstarch. (Here, I made sure the cornstarch was mixed with a teaspoon of water for a slurry first - I didn't want any lumps) Bring to a boil, let cook for 1 to 1 1/2 minutes until its gooey but NO MORE than that, otherwise it'll be glue and never come off your saucepan! I'd also recommend using a bit more than 1/3 cup...like 1/2 cup instead, I barely had enough to cover all of the biscuits...and, the other reason you don't want to cook this too long is that if burnt, it doesn't taste all that good either. 9.) The biscuits are best enjoyed the same day you bake them, but they can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days. On tasting the biscuit, these came out pretty good - the maple syrup acts as a 'faux' caramel, and doesn't get in the way of the biscuit's flavor. Will make again, enjoy!