#supervise your thralls!

[flock-of-cassowaries]

When Barnabas Collins leaves his thrall Willie unattended:

Normal indoor behaviour, Willie; normal, adult, indoor behaviour.

When Hannibal Lecter leaves his thrall Will unattended:

Hate it when my thrall convinces my opposite-gender romantic partner to arm herself against the danger I pose.

[usagirotten]

Beyond Apocalypse: Why HBO's Scavengers Reign Demands Your Attention

If you’re looking for a show that will keep you on the edge of your seat, Scavengers Reign is definitely worth checking out. The animation is stunning, and the story is both thought-provoking and entertaining. Whether you’re a fan of science-fiction or just looking for something new to watch, Scavengers Reign is a great choice.  Imagine a post-apocalyptic world where survival is a daily battle, and the lines between hero and villain blur. That's the backdrop of Scavengers Reign. The show hooks you in from the get-go with its gripping storyline, complex characters, and stunning visuals. Trust me; this is one series you won't want to miss. Scavengers Reign follows the Demeter's four human survivors as they attempt to navigate this world in vastly different ways. Loner Azi (voiced by Wunmi Mosaku) tries to build and maintain a homestead with the help of her robot companion, Levi (voiced by Alia Shawkat). Pilot Sam and botanist Ursula (voiced by Bob Stephenson and Sunita Mani) make use of Vesta's many resources to try to find a way off-planet. Then, there's the deeply troubled Kamen (voiced by Ted Travelstead), who finds himself in the thrall of a hypnotic, toad-like creature simply known as Hollow. co-creators Joseph Bennett and Charles Huettner (working from their 2016 short Scavengers) craft a tight story of survival and ecological turmoil What makes Scavengers Reign stand out is its ability to weave together action, drama, and mystery flawlessly. Each episode leaves you craving more, with unexpected twists and turns that'll have you reeling. One of the key highlights of this series is its phenomenal cast. From seasoned actors to rising stars, each performance is captivating, adding layers of depth to the narrative. You'll find yourself emotionally invested in the characters, rooting for some while questioning the motives of others—a rollercoaster of emotions, to say the least! Moreover, the production quality is top-notch. The attention to detail in creating the post-apocalyptic world is mind-blowing. The set designs, costumes, and special effects transport you into this dystopian realm, making it all the more immersive. But don't just take my word for it. Dive into Scavengers Reign and experience the adrenaline rush yourself. Be warned, though: once you start, it's hard to stop. So, grab your popcorn, settle in, and prepare for an unforgettable journey through a world where survival is the ultimate prize. This series isn't just entertainment; it's an experience—a thrilling, heart-pounding adventure that'll have you eagerly anticipating each new episode. So, what are you waiting for? Join the scavengers' world, where every decision could be a matter of life or death.  

- Cast: Wunmi Mosaku (Azi), Bob Stephenson (Sam), Sunita Mani (Ursula), Ted Travelstead (Kamen), Alia Shawkat (Levi). Guests: Pollyanna McIntosh (Kris), Dash Williams (Barry), Freddy Rodriguez (Terrence), Sepideh Moafi (Mia), Skyler Gisondo (Charlie). - Credits: Created and executive produced by Joseph Bennett and Charles Huettner; executive produced by Chris Prynoski; co-executive produced by Sean Buckelew and James Merrill; supervising director Benjy Brooke; produced in partnership with Titmouse, Inc.       Read the full article

[catflowerqueen]

Security Cam Moon, Sun POV: Part 3 of 3

Part 1 here.

Part 2 here.

Okay! Finally got this done. Please enjoy.

Once again, inspiration credit goes to the "Redemption Au" from @madcatdaderpydrawer-blog

Sun POV, part 3 of 3:

But before you could come up with another, desperate possibility, you burst back into the Daycare’s main area, scanning even more frantically for signs of your brother, and froze in horror at what you saw.

Or, rather, at what you didn’t see.

Bonnie’s “retirement” had come out of the blue; for staff, guests, and animatronics alike. The result of a freak accident that was, in retrospect, one of the early warning signs of the impending takeover by the digital ghost of a rabbit-themed serial killer, but one which no one not already in the ghost’s thrall could have possibly recognized at the time. Foxy’s retirement, on the other hand…

You and your brother had still been young, at the time. Still caught up in the transition from acting together onstage and watching children from afar to suddenly being in direct control of their health and wellbeing as the new Daycare attendants. As such, you hadn’t been able to recognize the writing on the walls for what it was. But hindsight showed the very clear plan and pattern being followed for the pirate’s gradual removal from the Pizzaplex.

First, management shortened Foxy’s active hours. With you and Moon there to take charge of the younger kids in the Daycare, the decision was made that the older kids who had the run of Kid’s Cove could mostly take care of themselves—especially since they no longer had to worry about babies or toddlers getting trampled underfoot—and would only need Foxy’s direct supervision for peak times, or during special events. But considering that “pirates” didn’t really fit the theme for the rest of the Pizzaplex, those special events were pretty few and far between.

After that, Foxy’s other areas and his various images all over the Pizzaplex were given less and less priority when it came to cleaning them of graffiti, or repairing any rips or tears, or getting replaced when it got destroyed. Eventually, it reached a point where it pretty much only ever happened when there was a high volume of guest complaints—and even then, rather than replacing the destroyed pieces with more of Foxy’s merchandising materials, they were instead replaced with images of the other Glamrocks, or, at best, an ensemble piece that had everyone in it.

The trend continued, Foxy getting slowly erased from the Pizzaria… until one day he was simply gone, with little to no protest from guests. And with no real warning or final goodbye for the friends and family he left behind.

And… those memories, with their final, agonizing conclusion, were what was running through your mind as you looked—really, thoroughly, looked—at your Daycare, and catalogued just how much it had changed while you weren’t paying attention.

It wasn’t just the blankets. Moon’s face and phases on the stacking barrels? Stickered over with different images of the Glamrocks, or DJ Music Man. The throw pillows and beanbag chairs that held Moon’s cooler colors? Patched over with decals of your innocent, ignorant, smiling face, much like the blankets were. The plushies and toys based off of Moon? Conspicuously missing from the toybox. And what wasn’t just altered or outright gone was instead broken or defaced so badly that it was sure to be removed soon anyways—like the posters of the two of you that had Moon’s side slashed out. Or the video screens behind the security desk that usually showed commercials for your candies that looked as though they had been kicked in and no longer functioned.

But the worst of it was that you had no idea how long they’d been like that. After everything, when you’d still been so terrified of your brother, you’d trained yourself to basically avoid anything with his image so as to avoid setting off a panic attack. And then you’d just kept up with that habit even as time went on and you started feeling better. But while that strategy might have helped you heal, it also meant that, now, you had absolutely no idea how long this Moon-erasure had been going on for.

When…when was the last time you’d seen his toys, outside of your beloved plushie? Or one of his posters? Or… or him?

Was Moon… was your brother even still alive?

Dread lanced through your battery at the thought, and you didn’t even notice the blanket drop from your grip as you tore through the Daycare. Rationality fled as you frantically searched for any sign of your brother, however small.

“Moon?!” you called out, begging for an answer.

“Brother, please! Where are you?!”

But there was no response.

“Moon!”

[mikebay02]

How to Recognize and Manage Separation Anxiety in Dogs

Dogs that break out of crates, harm themselves in the process, and can’t be left alone for even ten minutes are not only a risk to themselves but the people who live with them, too.

"A well-trained dog and a well-behaved dog are two entirely different things. A trained dog will do what you ask, but a behaved dog? They will make good choices on their own."

This behavior is called separation anxiety, and. Single. Day. We are getting DMs, emails, and comments about how much this behavior is destroying peoples’ (and dogs’) lives. 

“I haven’t been able to go on a date night with my s/o since we got this dog.”

“I had to pull my kids from extra-curricular activities because we can’t leave the dog home alone.”

“My dog destroys the crate when left alone, and hurts himself in the process. If he’s not created, he WILL eat the window frames.”

“Our dog will howl and bark so loud, my landlord is threatening to evict me.”

These are REAL stories.

This is how separation anxiety is affecting families around the world. 

It’s heartbreaking, and we understand how much pain and stress this ONE issue can cause. We put it at the top of the “most painful to live with” list— above aggression, believe it or not.

There is no escaping separation anxiety when you’re in the thralls of it. It’s a problem that spills over to every part of your life.

That’s why when people describe It…it’s often accompanied by the words: “suffering” “struggle” “desperation” and “trapped” It’s a crappy way to live with your dog…

And we don’t want that for anyone.

But life doesn’t need to be that way. Despite what the internet tells you, this behavior can be modified, and you can get your life (and your peace of mind) back. 

Inside Separation Anxiety Solutions, you’ll join Jeff, Joelle, and Courtney of Solid K9 Training, to learn the exact dog anxiety training protocols and methods that are saving dogs from the prison of separation anxiety. Dogs just like yours.

As a dog owner, you deserve to have a dog that can live happily and peacefully in your home!

Your dog should be confident enough to calmly relax and self-soothe on its own—whether you’re gone for 5 minutes or a couple of hours.  

No dog should require 24/7 supervision. It’s not realistic, and most of us have jobs, kids, and other life events to put our time into. 

But if you you’re knee deep with a dog who is running your household and your life, you might feel like that’s impossible at the moment.

And you might be struggling trying a hundred different methods, a hundred ways, only to keep getting the same result: a dog that’s a danger to itself and your house. 

So how do you help your dog get past this behavior?

If you’re searching endlessly for solutions, or don’t even know WHERE to begin…

Be encouraged.

YOU CAN HAVE A DOG WHOSE BEHAVIOR DOESN’T TAKE OVER YOUR LIFE.

You just need proven methods to push you in the right direction and get you RESULTS, that’s exactly what you’ll find inside of Separation Anxiety Solutions. 

Meet Your Instructor

Hi, I’m Jeff Gellman, the guy with the hair that works with those insane dogs. I got my start in dog training 20ish years ago when I owned a wildly out of control dog myself. His name was Max, and he was large, powerful and had a lot of bad behaviors. He was making my life a living hell, and it felt like nobody could help me at all. That was until I finally met THE ONE trainer who looked me dead in the eye and said “you can tell your dog “no”, Jeff.”

And that was the day everything changed. I was able to stop all of my dog’s horrific behaviors rather quickly, and actually train him up to be one of the coolest dogs I’ve ever owned. He became my sidekick in mountain climbing, biking, and even my demo dog when I created a dog training business of my own (hello Solid K9 Training.) Max was the first “why” behind everything I do today.

I currently own and operate an exclusive, boutique style dog training center in Bradenton, Florida. I rehab and train dogs from all around the country and even traveled for 5 years holding dog training seminars around the world. When I say I have worked with the worst of the worst behavioral cases, I truly mean it. I own a highly successful virtual dog training company where I can put my passion into video format to help even MORE people who can’t reach me geographically. 

I also held dog anxiety training seminars around the world. Throughout my career, I have worked with tens of thousands of dogs and humans, and I know firsthand how lack of training can affect the quality of life for both ends of the leash. Between my free social media content, virtual one-on-one work, seminars, and in-person training, I have kept countless dogs in their homes who were on their last chance. 

I have always wanted to find a way to help EVEN more families and their dogs. There is such a need for dog training that works, and so I created this course. My Green to Graduate series addresses one of the most common pain points I see people struggling with- lack of training overall! So many folks are struggling to get their dogs to do the basics, so I wanted to create courses that truly covers it all. 

This simple and easy-to-follow video series will get you on the path to better walks, better obedience, and a better lifestyle with your pet for the long run. You'll finally be able to live life with your dog exactly as you imagined, and the best part is, you'll be there in 4 weeks or less.

We know the struggle is real out there with SA. So we will be putting everything we’ve got into this course with 20+ years of experience under our belts. 

We’ve worked with dogs who destroy kennels, break teeth, rip out toenails, and wreak havoc on their owners’ lives with separation issues—and we’ve got the tools, methods, and information (and creativity) to turn it around. 

We’ve never shown our protocols for separation anxiety on video before. This is a first for us. And the dog who we will be training in the course displays ALL of the behavior above ^.

We know what an impact this course is going to have not only on the dogs, but on the PEOPLE who are suffering in silence, too. 

For the first time ever, Jeff, Joelle and Courtney will all be working together in a course to show the exact process behind how we resolve separation anxiety with a dog who mutilates, breaks out of crates, destroys the house, and has put a halt to his owners’ social life.

Inside Separation Anxiety Solutions, you’ll get in depth dog anxiety training that you can apply to your own dog, in real life.

When you join Separation Anxiety Solutions you’ll…

Learn how to eliminate arousal, incessant whining, and non stop barking inside the crate

Learn our processes for stopping all crate breaking and self destructive behaviors

Receive step by step coaching on how to set up training protocols that address your dog’s state of mind (even when you’re not home.)

Learn our tried and true methods for creating calmness within the home, within the kennel, and within your dog’s MIND

Understand how you LIVE with your dog effects everything as far as your dog’s behavior is concerned

Learn how to muzzle condition your dog with our Muzzle Conditioning course ($99 value)

Recordings of Our 2023 Live Two-Day Leash Reactivity Seminar

Unlock the Masterclass Vault, where you’ll have access to FIVE of our best-selling live classes from 2023 ($997 value):

Walk Mastery LIVE where you’ll learn to teach a perfect on and off leash heel

Leadership LIVE where we break down our most impactful leadership exercises

Day 1 behind the scenes with a Client Dog LIVE

How to Walk a Pack of Dogs LIVE

Our exclusive “How To Work With A Biting Dog” masterclass where we teach our exact protocols on how to stop resource guarding within the home with a dangerous dog

-A 90 minute FREE group q+a session with Jeff and Joelle to support you on your journey

Our weekend problem solving seminar course ($197 value)

One month FREE of our Private Community Membership (2 coaching calls included! $997 value)

Here’s what you’ll learn inside of Separation Anxiety Solutions:

Part 1: Eliminating arousal to get your dog ready to learn

Part 2: Generalizing this training to every part of your dog’s life, including inside your home and out. We will teach you how to have a dog that is calm when told to do so. 

Part 3: Setting up real life protocols like leaving the house, and preparing your dog for success (and what to do if things go sideways)

Part 4: Troubleshooting. We know dog training is a roller coaster, and it’s not uncommon to have days that feel like a “set back.” You’ll learn exactly how we work through these scenarios and see the “messy middle” of training that isn’t being shown out there on social media. 

Every module is in order, so that you can follow the process in the most effective way. 

This is your one stop shop for stopping separation anxiety in its tracks, and helping your dog get out of this unhealthy headspace permanently. 

And you’ll get it all for just $197 presale pricing!

For a program worth more than $2500

Testimonials and Feedback

Don't take our word for it. Take a look here or look at our testimonials at the link on the top of this page.

-Kristen O

"It's SO helpful! Nice to be able to rewind and replay certain tips. It's like having Jeff in my house!"

-Michelle L

"Started the videos and will recommend to my clients. So easy for them to understand! Thanks Jeff!" -

-Sunshine T

"Love how the dog makes mistakes and you guide him through the process. Nobody else shows that." -

-Kelly A

"Best purchase. A no-nonsense approach to training. Teaching me how to be a better teacher for the path I want my dog to follow."

-Murph M

"Fantastic. I'm having fun learning and you make it very clear/straight forward."

-Tricia K

"These courses are amazing! Now I have more things to really get my skills where they need to be to do better for my dogs. Thank you Jeff for taking the time to expand on content and help the masses!"

When you join Separation Anxiety Solutions, you’ll get: 

    -The Muzzle Conditioning course

    -Walk Mastery LIVE where you’ll learn to teach a perfect on and off leash heel

    -Leadership LIVE where we break down our most impactful leadership exercises

    -Day 1 behind the scenes with a Client Dog LIVE

    -How to Walk a Pack of Dogs LIVE

    -our exclusive “How To Work With A Biting Dog” masterclass where we teach our exact protocols on how to stop resource guarding within the home with a dangerous dog

($997 value)

 PLUS the -90 minute Q+A with Jeff and Joelle ($600 value)

-Weekend Problem Solving Seminar Course ($197 value)

-One FREE month to our Private Community membership ($47 value for the month PLUS a discounted rate if you choose to join for the year)

These bonuses are only valid when you join within 48 hours! 

And in case you were wondering…

Q: Is this course right for me? 

A: this course is for EVERY dog who struggles with whining, self destructive behavior, inability to be alone, and even destroying the house. There is so much to learn, and likely some very simple changes you can make that will change everything for you!

Q: It’s on pre-sale, so the course isn’t done yet?

A: we’re offering this course at special pre-sale price since we are still currently filming. Videos will drip out as they’re completed! We should have the course wrapped up and completed by January 31, 2024

Q: How do you know this dog anxiety training works and that is will work for me? That it’s not just you, because you have years of experience?

A: I wouldn’t call something proven if it’s only worked for me, one time. The training I teach inside this course has worked on tens of thousands of my client dogs—around the world. If you commit to applying what you learn, and trying things that might not be familiar to you, but could get you the results you want, this program will work for you. 

Q: I’m exhausted. I’ve tried everything…what makes this any different?

A: I’m so sorry. I get it. Almost every single one of my clients comes to me after spending thousands and wasting time on training that doesn’t yield results. I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone. However, what if everything you’ve been trying just isn’t the “right” method? This is a self paced program, so no rush to consume it all in one day. Try it one module at a time. I promise you’ll make improvements. If not, shoot me an email and I’ll be happy to offer another solution. jeff@solidk9training.com

[cursesavior]

"Well, you are delicious. I can't let just anyone have a taste of you." Suguru purrs with a grin, tongue darting out to wet his lips at the thought. "Especially since you taste so sweet - you're a real delicacy, you know." He's like a dessert, honestly, just letting him wander around without supervision would be like leaving a freshly baked pie on a windowsill and somehow expecting nobody to take a piece for themselves. Blood tends to have a savory flavor for the most part, so even putting aside that he was a vampire hunter, he was a rarity. Only he could eat so much damn sugar and stay so healthy. He won't let anyone else have him, though. That's a taste reserved solely for him.

"Come on, do you really think I have time to watch TV? I'm a busy man, you know." He scoffs, but he can't help smiling despite himself, fond of the way he laughs far too loudly at his own joke. It's cute, even when it's at his expense and it's more of a cackle than anything. With the way they're pressed together he can feel the way his heart pounds in his chest, it thrums against his ribs and through him, reverberating and almost making it feel like Suguru's still heart is beating once again. Being with Satoru just makes him feel so alive again, warm and renewed, making him miss it all the more when he pulls away to wander back over to his desk. He might whine if he had less self control.

"Oh, you shouldn't need to worry about that. They're a rather obedient crowd - we wouldn't have come so far if they weren't." Suguru has a particular kind of power over his followers - he can explain it away as being the carefully-crafted image of a powerful leader he'd created for himself, or his charm, maybe even his thrall or a combination of it all, but it's quite the sight to behold. He postured himself as their savior, the only one who could create the world they wanted to see, and for the sake of that dream they followed, they listened, bent to his will. He's a little surprised at how little friction there's been - the conflicts that did arise typically didn't have anything to do with him, and when he came to settle things, his word was law. He supposes that's what makes this a cult and not just an organized militia - they practically worship him. "If I tell them not to touch you, they won't. If I tell them to listen to you, they will. There's no question about it."

He's not deterred by his complaints as he picks him up and tosses him onto the bed, nor is he surprised when the topic of his weapons comes up again. It's only natural - he remembers what being a vampire hunter was like. You don't go anywhere without a stake, or some holy water, or at the very least a crucifix. You're taught to live in fear, constantly on the defense from those creatures that lurk in the shadows, just waiting to tear your throat out... Being completely unarmed must be unnerving. "Hmm, I suppose so, since I can trust you to behave yourself. But try not to walk around with a ton of them on you all the time - people are going to be more reluctant to trust you if they feel like you don't trust them." Plus, the fact he was a former hunter was a fact some would surely find unsettling. "I understand that you're not going to feel completely safe at first, though. Just keep it hidden and don't use them unless it's absolutely necessary."

He lets his eyes fall shut as he lies down and lets his head rest near Satoru's chest - the sound of his heartbeat brought great comfort to him, a constant reminder that he's here and alive and real. "Don't bring them out during training either, I have prop weapons to make sure nobody gets hurt... I think you'll have a little fun with it, heh." He mumbles, his voice making it clear he won't be able to stay awake for much longer. The sun will rise soon, and the fatigue from such a busy night is seeping into his bones, making his body feel heavy. "Get some sleep, doll... We've got a long night tomorrow..."

                   "Mm, you're right. Gerbils at least get a water bottle, some food, and a wheel to run around on."   There's a soft tease in his voice, an even softer noise leaving his lips when hands land on his hips. It feels surreal, feeling that power coursing in his veins, warm and from him. It makes him let out a slow breath, lets his mind wander  ––  there's a soft throb on his neck where the bite has taken root, where he wants desperately for Suguru's teeth to be dug back into. He had never thought that he'd be addicted to something as strange as someone drinking his blood, but he remembers that feeling all too clearly, of teeth and the euphoria that made his back arch and his fingers dig into the sheets. Flush races across his cheeks because he's thinking about it now, resisting the urge to reach up and touch that spot. Tongue brushes up against the backs of his teeth and he taps his fingers against his skin instead to stave off the urge. 

                   "Yeah yeah, I know. I'd be too delicious for everyone to resist."  Blue eyes roll  ––  but of course, Suguru is correct. Not to mention the fact that he doesn't exactly have his weapons: those had been relinquished when he had proved his loyalty, kneeling before his new master. He doesn't regret it, even if part of him is missing his favorite dagger; he'll coo his way into Suguru's heart about that later. It's about keeping him safe and even though Satoru may roll his eyes at it, part of him is touched at the gesture; it's another way that it proves that he is truly Suguru's and it's both intoxicating and terrifying at the same time. Having everything he's ever wanted pressed up against him right now still feels surreal  ––  like he's in some sort of dream and can't seem to wake up from it.

                   "I guess I missed you."  Another shrug of shoulders but there's a shy, sheepishness behind the gesture. He knows his cheeks are still flush from the kiss, his lips shiny from it as well. It's another form of marking  ––  his heart pounds against his chest as he feels every inch of himself line up against Suguru's, feels his eyes flutter half way shut as he swallows hard. There's a warmth that settles underneath his skin that he hasn't felt before; it's not a thrall, it's just him. It's every ounce of longing that he's felt for years thrumming underneath him and threatening to consume him if he lets it. Though, he can't think of a reason for it not to. It would be so easy to just give everything that he is over to him. They deserve it after so long apart, don't they? There's no way you're reunited with someone that you had thought was dead for a decade without feeling something overwhelming, right?

                   A scoff, then he's smacking at his chest, faking a glare in his direction.  "I was bored. There's not even a television in here  ––  what are you, Dracula?"   It makes him laugh at his own joke, something ugly, and he has the audacity to flush at that. But there's a soft lull that settles between them, when he's leaning into his hand and letting his eyes slip closed for a long moment. The exhaustion is starting to settle in, has for a while, but he couldn't find it in himself to let his guard down enough to sleep. He knows that Suguru wouldn't set him up, but there's still that instinct in him, the one that has hackles raised and that is used to sleeping with a knife or a stake underneath his pillow in case of an intruder. Being so bare of his own weapons gives him something strange down his spine, even if he doesn't want it to. So he unfolds himself from the secure grip and slips the book closed, leaning against the chair for a moment as he nods.  "I think that should be fine. So long as no one is going to you know, try to kill me. I don't want to hurt anyone but."   There's a small shrug that's almost apologetic  ––  he's sure that Suguru understands.

                   At the promise for bed though he yawns, stretching his arms against his head before he is hoisted over a strong shoulder. He lets out a soft oof, white hair falling over his eyes as he reaches down to smack at the vampire's ass.  "I didn't consent to being manhandled, you little shit."  But the bite isn't as strong and he simply allows himself to ragdoll, knowing that his full weight is precarious as it tips on the mound of a shoulder.  "Hey, Suguru? Think I'll ever get my weapons back?"  There's a quiet worry that settles in him, even as he bounces on the bed and scoots up against the pillows. Blue flares in the night from his eyes, his face squishing itself into the soft material once more.  "I feel naked without them."

[hemoplagued]

Truth Serum, how do you have so many willing servants? Aren’t you scared they will tell your secrets?

Truth Serum

He side-eyes one of his servants. Their statue-like appearance was unnerving for those who weren’t used to their presence.

“My servants don’t have a will of their own. You see, they are controlled by me most of the time. Like thralls in a way.” he points at a woman, she's wearing a maid dress. Although her eyes are wide and watching a tear is rolling down her cheek and she is shaking uncontrollably.

“They see, hear, watch, but they cannot do anything. Funny little puppets on autopilot to only do tasks that I have assigned to them. Forever unable to speak what they think and free themselves from this place. Sometimes when I am bored I do let them roam the manor without my supervision. It is fun to watch them panic as they realize they have never been here before. The other servants are quick to suppress those who are freed of my influence.”

[ceescedasticity]

More thoughts on "Orkish" (and orcs and language in general):

The language of power in Utumno and Angband is a form of Valarin — all Melkor's top lieutenants are umaiar, why wouldn't it be? For non-Ainur it's painful to listen to even compared to regular Valarin, but probably still mutually intelligible.

The orcs, thralls, and anyone else physically incapable of pronouncing Valarin speak… an elvish language, actually. A lot of the sounds have changed, it's not easily recognized, but it descends from the 'Primitive Elvish' spoken around Cuiviénen.

This continues to be the case well into the First Age, but eventually the influx of new prisoners tilts the balance and most thralls and a lot of the orcs switch at least partially to bastardized (but intelligible) Sindarin.

Melkor really doesn't care about this, but Sauron is affronted.

Meanwhile, orcs east of Beleriand not under anyone's direct supervision have come up with a fun game.

When two groups temporarily part ways, each group tries to mutate the language it speaks before they meet again. The less intelligible you are to the other group, the more points you score. (It has to be what you're actually speaking most of the time, otherwise it's cheating.)

It started out with shifting vowels and switching rules for conjugation and declension, but then they ran into dwarves, and also started incorporating Khuzdul words and grammar into their own speech to score points off their frenemies.

(Did offense at this contribute to dwarves deciding to make their language private? Maybe.)

Orcs carried on doing this as they encountered humans with additional languages.

In the early Second Age, the escaped orcs of Beleriand assimilate into the orcs of the mountains, and they quickly pick up the game.

By the time Sauron pulls himself together enough to start gathering power, pretty much all orcs will sound like they're speaking an entirely new language if you turn your back on them for six months. It's annoying. But he certainly doesn't want them speaking any straight Elvish or Edain language, so he starts working on his conlang.

(Meanwhile his human empire has gone ahead and decided one of its languages is its Official Language.)

Sauron's conlang is actually not a big hit.

Orcs will learn the "black speech". They just don't use it among their closest associates. Many of them adopt a number of words from it.

Sauron's human subjects have to learn the "black speech", at least if they're going to be dealing with Mordor. But the language of administration in most of the Empire doesn't change. (The "black speech" isn't good for administration. One example: it only has one word to describe any kind of animal raised for meat. Which is not enough when you're trying to collect taxes or describe available resources!)

(Sauron won't give up on making his conlang happen, though.)

(Meanwhile a troop of orcs in Mordor are adopting each new Steward of Gondor's name to be their new word for latrine.)

[dearviper]

Certain Dark Things Chapter 14: Thanks to Your Love

WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni!); incel behavior/language; nonconsensual voyeurism; nonconsensual cuddling/spooning; dubious consent kissing (Check the replies for where to stop/restart reading if you want to avoid these while reading the chapter!)

Table of Contents | My Masterlist

Edward had recently begun to let you venture into the rest of the apartment (under his supervision, of course).

Depending on whether he was busy with work, Edward either left you on the leash or tied you to a chair in the living room when he let you out.

It was irritating, but at least it was a change of scenery — and a disconcerting change, at that. With a figuratively and literally looser leash, you fell further down the rabbit hole of his plot.

The various apparatus scattered about the living room was disturbing, to say the least. It looked like a mad scientist’s lab, with flasks and beakers strewn across the counters and devices whose purposes you could not yet fathom.

He kept a cage full of rats (underfed, if his threat from a few weeks ago was to be believed) on one of the tables near you.

Their squeaking was incessant, and your skin crawled each time you glanced over at their writhing bodies.

The rest of the space was taken up by notebooks and scrap paper. Much of the scrawling writing you saw was incomprehensible, both because of his penmanship and the nonsensical phrases he wrote.

At the top of a wall plastered with newspaper clippings and photographs was the phrase “THE TRUTH ABOUT GOTHAM.” On various pieces of scrap paper lying around, he had written generic slogans, like “RENEWAL IS A LIE” and “NO MORE LIES.”

On others were Biblical allusions, though you didn’t understand most of them.

6 days — on the 7th I REST

Mitchell Family Values are that of Cain and Abel

Wayne Tower of Babel

Jericho’s Walls COME TUMBLING DOWN

You could tell the first phase of his plan was drawing near. He was more on edge than usual, raving about the mayor’s sins at the slightest provocation.

Once again, you performed the balancing act of feigning the right amount of interest when he spoke.

At first you thought that the less you knew, the more likely he would be to release you. But after two months with Edward (had it really been that long?), you had resigned yourself to the fact that he would not willingly let you go.

Every action you now took was with one goal in mind: survival. If you fawned enough over him, maybe you could extend his affection for you. It was certainly working so far.

A little too well, in fact.

Whenever he wasn’t working, his eyes were constantly on you. You pretended you didn’t notice them raking over your body, but he was growing far bolder.

You were now allowed to use the toilet and the shower with the caveat that he would supervise. Internally, you scoffed when he told you that.

He had already removed every possible weapon from the bathroom — razors, cleaning product cans, even the toilet tank cover. The only thing he would “supervise” was hot, soapy water running down your naked form.

The saddest part? You hardly cared. He had already taken so much from you; your privacy was just another item on your long list of losses.

Still, you didn’t enjoy being his one-woman peepshow. The poorly-concealed tent in his pants was an unsettling reminder that you were completely at his mercy.

As he grew more comfortable touching you and leering at you, you knew it was a matter of time before he would make a move. The shy, repressed Edward you had once known was no more.

There was one perk to having him in your thrall: with a little flirtation, he would do practically anything you asked. There was power in that, the only modicum you had since he took you.

You had grown used to his touching, and that made it easier to charm him with touches of your own.

What was a soothing pat or a held hand in the grand scheme of things? Nothing. Means to an end. If it kept him happy, it kept you safe.

But again, you knew he was itching for more. You gave an inch, he took a mile. Your caresses were succeeded by his gropes, and your chaste touches were bastardized by his lewd desires.

You knew things were getting out of hand when you heard the doorknob to your bedroom turn in the middle of the night. Thinking you were asleep, he eased himself down on the bed next to you.

Edward traced the curves of your body with his fingertips, fearing to apply too much pressure lest you wake.

You kept your breathing even, grateful you were facing the wall so he wouldn’t see you wince when he pressed his body against yours.

Nuzzling his nose into your hair, he inhaled your scent. When he slid his hand under the covers and let it rest on your lower hip, dread filled your stomach.

You pretended to stir in your sleep and he yanked his hand back. Gingerly, he clambered off the bed and exited the room.

Even after you heard the lock latch, you waited a few minutes to make sure he had truly gone.

Still feigning sleep, you rolled over to face the door and cracked your eyelids. When you were certain you were alone, you let out a quivering breath of relief.

Still, you did not fall back asleep that night.

Edward scrolled through the texts you received each morning over his coffee. It became a routine, like reading the paper.

He responded often to avoid suspicion, but very few people checked up on you.

Communication with Tyler and Claudine had dropped off after your firing, and he outright ignored Adam’s messages on your behalf.

The only correspondence he needed to maintain was with Marisol, and occasionally with your parents.

It was sad, really, to see how alone in this world you were — how alone you both were. It was lucky you found each other.

On the other hand, he was relieved that your circle was small. Keeping Marisol content with messages to distract from your impromptu “trip” was difficult enough; it would’ve been far harder if you hadn’t been fired.

That was just pure luck. Kismet, even. An act from the universe conspiring to bring the two of you together. The signs were all there — you were made for each other.

That made it all the more annoying when Adam refused to cease badgering you. Edward toyed with the idea of telling him off, of berating him as you.

It was tempting, certainly, but stupid. He had to be logical about this. There could be no doubts about who might have your phone.

Still, it drove Edward up the wall every time Adam’s name popped up on your screen.

“Your boyfriend keeps texting,” he drawled one day, trying to appear bored by the notion.

You looked up from the book he lent you. “My what?”

“Adam dearest,” he replied, unable to stave off the venom in his tone.

You arched a brow and spoke carefully. “Adam isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my friend from college. You know that.”

Edward looked at you with mistrust. “And the date I caught you on?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, anger already brewing at his entitlement. “You didn’t ‘catch’ me on a date because it wasn’t a date. I was hanging out with an old friend.”

“Sure you were,” he shot back caustically.

“I don’t even know why I’m justifying myself to you. I’m telling you the truth. If you don’t want to believe me, that’s your problem.”

You tried to go back to your book, but his eyes were burning holes into you.

“I don’t believe you because you’re lying to me,” he bit out. “You were toying with my emotions and then whoring yourself out-”

“Are you serious, Edward?” you finally lost your temper, slamming the book shut. You would have jumped to your feet if you hadn’t been tied to the chair. “If I had wanted to go on a date, that would’ve been well within my rights because I wasn’t in a relationship! It’s not ‘whoring myself out’ just because it makes you jealous!”

He opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off before he could speak.

“And not that it makes a difference, but I wasn’t even thinking about dating anyone else because I thought there was something between us and I didn’t want to jeopardize that.”

Your breathing was coming out heavily, rage seeping from every pore. Edward was speechless, staring blankly at you as if his every thought had been derailed. Finally, he managed to speak.

“You wanted… to be… with me?”

“Yes,” you snapped back hotly. “As if I didn’t make it obvious every time you and I were alone. But you ran off every time things between us got intimate, so I figured you weren’t interested.”

“I was!” he protested quickly, making you snort loudly.

“Yeah, I realize that now,” you replied snidely, gesturing to your collar and the ropes securing you to the chair. He at least had the good grace to blanch in shame.

But something quickly changed in his eyes as he took in your words.

“You wanted me,” he repeated slowly, gaze darkening as he began to approach you.

You squirmed uncomfortably, fearing where he was going with this. Edward kneeled in front of you, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

He probably thought that if you had been attracted to him before, there was a chance you still would be. You wanted to ridicule him for believing you could ever care for him after this, but you knew better.

His eyes were filled with yearning as he stared into yours. Slowly, he raised his hand and caressed your face as he had many times before.

“Wanted,” he mused. “Past tense?”

You weren’t sure how to respond, eyes wide as he continued to stroke your cheek.

“I love you,” he said slowly, repeating his words from the day he had taken you. “Do you…?”

He trailed off, searching your face for the answer.

You couldn’t tell him no; it would be borderline suicidal to do so.

Instead, you cut him off in the only way you could think of.

Lurching forward, you pressed your lips to his. He made a small noise of surprise, but returned the kiss with equal fervor.

It’s just a kiss, you soothed your distressed mind as he forced his tongue into your mouth. You’ve kissed him before. You’ve kissed lots of people before. It’s okay to pretend, to lie if it keeps you alive.

Eventually, he broke away from you, gasping for air with a delirious grin.

“My sweet girl, my angel,” he breathed, leaning back in to press reverent kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “You’re gonna save me, you know that? Sometimes I- I go too far, get too close to the edge. But you always pull me back…”

He gazed at you with adoring, wanting eyes.

Fuck.

What had you just done?

previous chapter | next chapter

[exclamaquest]

>be a nurse in like 1953

>get gratification and meaning from how grateful all of your patients are that you cure them

>realize that that ends when they leave

>start fucking with the dosages of their medications so they *can't* leave but are eternally grateful to you for keeping them alive

>hot girl comes into your hospital's ER and you're assigned to her

>the medication just goes right through her. nothing changes. you're fascinated by her.

>all her x-rays are like *incredibly* fucked up.

>you're obsessed.

>she says all her ribs are fused and she'll let you crack them to see what happens if you let her drink your blood

>she keeps her word

>you are now her thrall.

>it's fifteen years later and she has just told you she's bored.

>you freak the ever loving fuck out

>she turns you before she leaves

>you go absolutely berserk and have zero support system.

>you start sneaking into hospitals and killing people.

>by the time you're done with that phase of your life it's the mid to late 1970s

>you just start sneaking into hospitals and posing as a nurse

>nobody questions you because you have medical knowledge and are willing to take night shifts

>start fucking with medications again but it's not the same as last time

>begin feeding off of your patients

>realize that this is unsustainable when a few of them die

>skip town to another hospital and restart

>along the way you turn a few stillborns and their families LOVE you for it

>this time it's hospice care

>you start turning your patients and secretly feeding them a mixture of blood and sugar to keep them alive

>none of them remember and if they do they're dismissed because they're all senile

>nobody suspects you and everyone is grateful that their beloved grandparents are making recoveries

>you get a little too comfortable and start turning everyone there

>eventually you start harvesting other patients for blood

>people notice them dying like flies

>someone you turn attacks their relative and it's big news

>the night court notices

>they have to go take care of all of the old people vampires and human witnesses

>they also find the stillborn kids you turn and place them with vampiric familes

>one of them is given a mock bondmark to signify how indebted she is to that family and made to be their legitimate children's bodyguard

>they have to cover up the resulting media storm too

>you are no longer allowed outside without supervision.

>finally you work your way into enough trust to have a job again

>allowed to be an assistant school nurse

>it's the school your fucking ex is pretending to be a student at.

>you are mikan tsumiki ♥

[encomium-emmae]

Love your work!

Word: beard

Inspired by a comment @mercurygray left on one of my earlier stories. And no Emma in this one, alas... perhaps we can think of it more as a tiny prequel! It does get a bit spicy beneath the cut (at least in its description of things), so be forewarned... ;)

Canute was fifteen when he began to grow a beard. 

It was not particularly impressive at first, a bit thin and patchy in places, but it made him feel older, more like a man, ready to be thrust into the world of the longboat and the battle shield. He had grown tall that year—outstripping both his father and his elder brother—and also solid, chest and shoulders filling out with each hour in the practice yard. But when he followed his father on the English raids that summer, he wanted to look like a hardened warrior, not an overgrown boy. 

His young companions teased him mercilessly for it, telling him he needed to spend more time at the washbasin for all the dirt still smudging his face, or else asking if he had contracted mange from one of the curs that begged for scraps outside the king’s hall. Canute had grinned—were the shoe on the other foot, he would have been just as unsparing—and then proceeded to best each of them as they fought in mock combat in the open space of the yard. 

His efforts won him a few words of praise from the man supervising their training: Thorvall, one of his father’s veteran warriors. The hurscarl had grown too old to raid, but his eye was still sharp—and his tongue too, unrestrained in his criticism of the multitude of their faults. But it was Thorvall who had showed Canute how to keep the shield close to his body, thinking of it as simply an extension of himself, Thorvall who had taught him how to properly wield the weight of a sword, Thorvall who had knocked him to the ground, again and again, but always helped him rise back onto his feet. 

When they went raiding that summer, Canute wished to make his father proud, but he wanted the same from the old hurscarl. It would be something to return to Jelling with tales of victory, and glory gained. He would no longer be a youth, content to practice, but a true warrior, a true Viking. 

Canute’s companions were not the only ones that spring to notice his new appearance, nor the man’s body he now possessed. The women who frequented his father’s hall were unashamed in their looks of open appraisal: not just high-born ladies, but skjaldmær and even serving girls, casting glances at him over their baskets of soiled linen and firewood. 

Perhaps before the summer arrived, he thought, he would become a man in every sense.

It took him a few days to identify a suitable candidate. She would need to know something about what she was doing—if only to make up for his own lack of experience—but not too much, or else she would see him merely as a pupil, not a partner. He wanted her soft and gentle and above all, willing; he would not bed a thrall or anyone else who could not truly say no. 

The girl Canute finally settled on was one who had likewise been eyeing him: Tove, the daughter of his father’s master shipbuilder. She was a year older, with mischievous green eyes and a small, curved body that furnished his mind with delights every time he envisioned it. Slowly, he began to find times to speak with her, stopping by her father’s workshop where she often frequented, or occupying the seat next to her during the evening’s meal at hall. As the skálds sang, he pressed his thigh against hers, and when the hour grew late, shifted closer and whispered warm words into her ear. Before long, he had kissed her, learning the sweet rhythm of it, and soon enough was pressing her up against the wall in quiet corners, the breathless sounds emerging from her lips driving him slowly mad. Tonight, she murmured, after the meal. When no one will be looking for us. 

That night, Canute was on fire with anticipation, his eyes searching for her as he waited in the half-empty hall for the king and his court to assemble. A hand settled on his shoulder, but as he turned, he realized it was not Tove. 

It was Thorvall. 

He was surprised; normally the hurscarl kept to the table with the other men of the king’s household. But the old warrior’s gaze was direct, as if he had sought Canute out for a reason. 

“Word has it you are close to bedding Hjalmar’s daughter.”

He could only stare, dumbfounded. How could Thorvall possibly know such a thing?

As if he could read Canute’s thoughts, the hurscarl continued: “Tongues are looser when it involves the king’s son. I also hear you have not been very discreet.”

“What business is it of yours?” Canute asked, suddenly defensive. 

Thorvall shrugged. “None. But as I have felt some responsibility in readying you for the world, I wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing.”

“We are not in the practice yard. I do not plan to fight her with an axe and shield.”

“No, of course not. But there are other things you should know.”

“What other things?” Canute scoffed. “How hard can it be? You put your cock in her.” He did not want to seem so crass, but it was difficult to understand what could be all that complicated about the act that Thorvall felt the need to explain it to him. He had seen enough of animals coupling, heard enough from his companions about their own exploits. It all seemed fairly simple. 

But the old warrior simply shook his head. 

“You are tall... and big. That is good—you will make a strong raider when the time comes. But you cannot just put your cock in her, as you say. Not unless you want to hurt her. Do you want to hurt her?”

Canute glanced at his training master, suddenly alight with the realization of how they stood at nearly the same height, Thorvall’s broad chest and shoulders almost a mirror of his own. The older man’s feeling of responsibility towards him was beginning to make more sense. 

“No,” he said quietly. “I do not want to hurt her. What do I do?”

Thorvall rubbed his hand across his face, then let out a rough breath. “I am going to tell you three things, and I want you to listen, because they are all important. Are you listening?”

Canute nodded, feeling as if he had been transported back to the practice yard, and he was being instructed on the proper formation of a shield wall. 

“First, you must talk to her. That is how you will find out what she wants, what she likes and does not like, if she would like you to slow down or go faster, or if she wants you to stop. And you must listen. Do not ignore what she says.”

“Alright,” Canute said. What the hurscarl was saying seemed reasonable enough. “And second?”

“Putting your cock in her will be the last thing you do. Before that, you need to use everything else: mouth, hands, fingers. You must take your time and stoke her desire as you would a fire, letting it build slowly.”

Thorvall rested his hand on Canute’s shoulder, leaning in a little as he lowered his voice. 

“Finally, there is a place on her body that is key to all of this.”

“A place?” Canute asked in partial confusion. What part would be so important to the act that he had never heard of it before?

“Yes, just at the top of her cleft. It is small—you would probably never notice it.”

“What does it do?”

“If given the right attention, everything. Just as your cock is the source of your pleasure, so this is for her. You must not overlook it. And you will know when you have given it the right attention.”

Canute’s brow furrowed in uncertainty, his mind still slowly sifting through the old warrior’s words of advice.

“And if I do all this, I will not hurt her?”

“You will not. And you will give her something of great value.”

“What is that?” Canute asked.

“A memory of you, unspoiled by fear or pain. She will carry that with her, the knowledge that you saw her joy as equal to your own.”

He nodded, struck by the depth of sentiment he had not expected from a warrior such as Thorvall. It was a side to the hurscarl that Canute had never seen and he began to wonder what experience had granted the man such knowledge. It was unlikely he would ever know, but still, he felt grateful to Thorvall for having sought him out and shared some part of it with him. 

“Canute,” the older man said, his gaze narrowing, “you will be a great warrior, perhaps even a king if you are lucky. But it is as important to know how to be a good man. Do you understand?”

Canute rubbed along his jaw, the growth of his young beard prickling rough against his fingers. “I am beginning to.”

[send me a one-word Emma/Canute prompt]

[tomorrowusa]

Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-MA) visited with Stephen Colbert last night.

She wasted no time summarizing what is happening to the opposition party...

“The Republican Party is eating itself. And it is discovering that that meal is poisonous.”

She also talked about the sorry state of US cybersecurity. Putin-stooge Donald Trump was unwilling to take measures which might offend his master in Moscow. The result has been a seemingly endless series of cyberattacks on the US originating in Russia.

The worst hack on the US was uncovered last December when Trump was more interested in overturning the presidential election which he had just lost.

SolarWinds: How Russian spies hacked the Justice, State, Treasury, Energy and Commerce Departments

The recent ransomware attack on Colonial Pipeline most likely had at least indirect links to the Russian government. Investigative reporter and author Michael Weiss told the PBS NewsHour...

It is true that the FSB — that is the domestic security agency of the Russian government — has often outsourced its hacking operations to various criminal rogue elements, not only in the Russian Federation territory itself, but in other countries.

They have created this environment, this permissive environment, which has allowed these cyber-operators to proliferate. I find it very hard to believe that Russia's counterintelligence or their intelligence services haven't figured out who the actors were. And if they had given them a kind of by your leave, as it were, to go after targets in the West, but to do so with this veil of plausible deniability, that wouldn't surprise me in the least at all.

Colonial Pipeline is, of course, a private company. Despite its important role in America’s energy infrastructure it hadn’t been required to share cybersecurity information with the FBI or federal investigators. That is part of the Republican legacy of deregulation. President Biden is putting such slackness to an end. On Wednesday he signed an executive order tightening cybersecurity for both the public sector and all private enterprises that do business with the government.

Biden Signs Executive Order to Bolster Federal Government’s Cybersecurity

What’s also needed, though seldom stated publicly, is an offensive capability to hit back when attacked. Russia could afford to hack at will because the Kremlin knew that Trump would not do anything about it.

A surprising factor regarding cybersecurity is immigration – but not in a way many people might think.

Prof. Terry Thompson at Johns Hopkins University explains:

Many U.S. companies outsource software development because of a talent shortage, and some of that outsourcing goes to companies in Eastern Europe that are vulnerable to Russian operatives.

This outsourcing has increased to a large degree because of Trump’s immigration policies. Instead of attracting skilled immigrants to this country, companies are outsourcing the work abroad.

The vulnerability of the software supply chain – the collections of software components and software development services companies use to build software products – is a well-known problem in the security field. In response to a 2017 executive order, a report by a Department of Defense-led interagency task force identified “a surprising level of foreign dependence,” workforce challenges and critical capabilities such as printed circuit board manufacturing that companies are moving offshore in pursuit of competitive pricing. All these factors came into play in the SolarWinds attack.

SolarWinds, driven by its growth strategy and plans to spin off its managed service provider business in 2021, bears much of the responsibility for the damage, according to cybersecurity experts.  I believe that the company put itself at risk by outsourcing its software development to Eastern Europe, including a company in Belarus. Russian operatives have been known to use companies in former Soviet satellite countries to insert malware into software supply chains.

Belarus is basically a satellite of Putin’s Russia. d’oh!

There’s also a shortage of cybersecurity talent in the U.S. Engineers, software developers and network engineers are among the most needed skills across the U.S., and the lack of software engineers who focus on the security of software in particular is acute. 

It’s better to have qualified software engineers settle here and work under US supervision than to have anonymous remote workers overseas whose companies may be in thrall to some potential malefactor. We also need to make higher education more accessible and more affordable in the US to help end the shortage in cybersecurity experts. 

Sen. Warren feels that cyber defense needs to be taken as seriously as traditional military defense. In her words, attacks “aren’t just about bombs any more”.

NOTE: There’s a peculiar issue, possibly temporary, going on with the vid at the top of this post. If it doesn’t show up, try viewing it directly here.

[shimmerbeasts]

The Noxian flue was infamous for putting even the strongest people in a casket. Having to witness Silco in its thralls was one of the worst experiences of Jinx's life. For the first four days, she hadn't even been allowed to see him at all. Sevika stood guard at Silco's - their shared - bedroom door and let nobody pass. Not even Jinx herself. The girl had been forced to move her hammock into the office and sleep there, away from Silco, away from that breeding ground of germs and infection.

She had barely been able to sleep, always dreading that the fever would take Silco away from her. By the sixth day when Singed deemed it alright for them both to check on Silco and supervise his medical process themselves, Jinx was as white as a sheet from her own anxiety and the inability to sleep.

The next few days were filled with murmurings and Silco's fitful sleep, sometimes trashing in bed so hard, that Sevika and Jinx had to pin his wrists down with united strength while reassuring him that the figures plaguing him were neither Vander nor his father. Jinx did not know much about the latter, but it seemed Sevika did as at one point she told Silco in that sharp, abrasive voice, that Jinx knew so well that that old knacker could stick it where the sun didn't shine.

All the while, Jinx dutifully kept administrating the Shimmer from the injector into Silco's eye. As Singed put it: "Just because your father is battling a whole different sickness does not mean the infection in his eye has disappeared." And so Jinx kept bringing the needle down, hands carefully controlled, face a mask of concentration and care. The years of her having applied the medicine on her own were starting to show. By now, Jinx could assemble the injector of her own accord, including slipping the hair-thin vial of Shimmer into it without breakage.

However, the probably hardest period was when the Doctor gave Silco an ice-cold concoction to bring his fevers down. It had given Silco the worst shivers, Jinx had ever seen, to the point that when in his delirium he called her name, she begun to lay next to him in his bed, sometimes on top of him to warm him, even if she risked infecting herself with this. The brutish bear greatly disliked this idea and demanded that Jinx at least wear a mask when she was this close to Silco, but she kept refusing.

Somehow against all odds, Jinx didn't get sick, even though there were several close calls. By the time, Silco could properly breathe and sit up on his own, they still had to remind him that he couldn't leave yet. Whether that be the Doctor or Sevika helping him back into bed after he had fallen out of it or flat out refusing him exit of his own room. As Silco's irritation and anger grew, making him lash out at his caregivers, Jinx withdrew and eventually chose to find out where the sick man, who had infected Silco, came from. Better to be preoccupied with one thing than giving Mylo needless ammunition.

By day fifteen, Jinx had finally been able to find traces of the sick person. Now that Silco could finally do not too strenuous work, the Loose Canon had immediately roped Sevika into the whole mess. For as skilled as Jinx was at tracking down and killing people, she knew that at the end of the day, Sevika was the better interrogator. Always had been and always would be. If Jinx wanted to avoid killing the man immediately, she needed the brutish bear to help her hand stay still.

Jinx dimly could perceive Silco's flinches and tenseness at the loud sounds, she was making. She bit her lips bashfully and lowered her head in wordless apology. Sometimes, Jinx forgot that Silco's hearing was even more sensitive than hers. No doubt, the illness hadn't done it much good either.

Jinx nodded in agreement and said: "I thought so too. It made very little sense that Finn tried to kill you. I mean, no offence but that knife assassin had a better idea of how to end you. This... This whole idea sounds whacky and really not thought through enough to count as a murder attempt. Though, you gotta hand it to Finn. He did everything in his power to ensure we couldn't trace the sick person to him."

Tapping Zapper against her lips, Jinx briefly licked some of the blood sticking to her mouth away. Scrunching up her nose in distaste, she said: "For one, he must have done something to conceal his sigil on this man. Sevika and I found traces of acid on his wrist. The skin had already healed there, but the tattooed sigil... Yeah, that was gone. So, we had to get information the old-fashioned way.

"The sick man worked for Finn. Apparently, Finn has been neglecting quarantine rules. He is not willing to have a lower income for a few months, so he basically forced sick people to work. According to this mole, a lot of women and kids are sick in Finn's territory and because they are working, their infections spread like wildfire. I have no doubt that by now half his territory is infected. Finn probably did all this bullshit" - she gestured towards Silco's sick figure - "to prevent a culling. Maybe he thought if you are sick, he can get his shit sorted out. Not wanting to admit that not following the rules is what caused this mess in the first place."

Jinx put Zapper on her shoulder and curiously tilted her head sideways as she peered at Silco. Her expression was a strange blend of playful mischief through her fanged smile and a hungry, murderous glint in her eyes as if something's blood thirst had woken up. Rolling back and forth on her soles to release some of her energy, Jinx asked coyly: "Soooo, what do you want us to do about the sick person? They are still alive, you know."

Counting the days of one's recovery was difficult when the fevers were so sudden and high that it wiped the memories of the past twenty-four hours each night. Death lingered upon every minute for the first days and nights, his body ravaged by heat and nausea. He was unable to keep anything solid down, living on bone broth and tea. By the time he was well enough to remember the hours actually passing, he'd been told he had been in bed for a four days.

The night terrors and hallucinations born from intermittent fevers were the worst of it. Strange visions of his father at the foot of his bed, or sounds of water rushing into his ears plagued him with anxiety and dread. Mucous filled his lungs, choking his throat and inducing the lingering sensation of drowning above water. It was only by the sound of Jinx and Sevika's familiar voices that he found his way back to reality. By the time he could sit up on his own and breathe properly, it had been ten days.

The doctor was a patient man, dealing with his antics of trying to get out of bed, only to fall to the ground and require help back into it. Being so thoroughly weak and feeble irritated him to no end. In his heavily drug-addled state, he found himself lashing out at those caring for him, growing frustrated with their sterile coddling. He wanted out - he wanted freedom - but the laws of the Sickly Months were his own to obey. By the time he could get out of his bed and walk short lengths, it had been fifteen days.

Finally the day came that Singed told him he was no longer in the direct clutches of the Noxian Flu, and cleared him to return to some form of his regular work. 'Nothing too strenuous,' he said, as if promising freedom while attaching an incorporeal leash to Silco's neck. Still, he had a point.

He was free of the mandated bed rest, but not free of all the symptoms the invasive flu brought with it. Muscle aches and bone pain still sank their teeth into his body, and food was a hit or miss some days. His balance had yet to return to him fully, requiring the use of his ornate, but practical cane. The worst of it all were the intermittent headaches, feeling akin to a pick axe being driven into his skull through his left eye socket.

He was having one right then, while laying down on his camelback sofa. He had one leg off of the sofa's cushion, drooping onto the floor, while the foot of his other leg rested over the arm by its heel. One hand was covering his photosensitive eyes, and the other arm was resting across his chest. His cane was propped up against the arm of the sofa by his head. All together, he probably looked like a mess. It wouldn't do to have anyone come in and see him in such a state, so he pushed himself upright with a groan and grabbed his cane.

He circled around to his desk with fatigued steps, staring down at the stacks of unanswered letters and shipment manifests he had yet to work through. Some of the letters were from the other chem barons, either inquiring about trading routes or mildly questioning his absence from meetings. Going long enough without seeing him had begun to raise some alarm bells, it seemed.

When the door slammed open, he took in a stiff inhale to brace against the pain that sound sent through his whole cranium. His sensitive hearing, though somewhat dulled by lingering illness, was keen enough to be rattled by the sudden sound, giving him a short wave of disorientation. He hid it behind the motion of sitting down, resting his cane across his lap as his daughter approached.

She looked to be covered in ash and soot today, indicating some form of work with her gadgetry. Her gun, Zapper, had remnants of her more recent activity dripping from its muzzle like a freshly fed jackal. Looking at her, she appeared healthy still, which was the most he could hope for, given he'd run the risk of infecting her while he was sick. His eyes lifted from her hands slamming on his desk (another jolt of headache) to her face when she leaned against his desk, and tired, but focused eyes locked with hers as she made her announcement.

They had found the source of the strategic biological attack at last, and it was just the kind of person he thought it might be. Finn was a troublesome wretch - a perpetually obstinate young man with ambition beyond intelligence. "Finn..." he said lowly, voice gravelly and worn from weeks of coughing and wheezing. He leaned back in his chair, his index finger curling under his nose as he thought. "The fool either wanted me dead - a waste of a plan - or he was covering his own mistake by distracting me with an illness." He reached out, placing his hand over Jinx's on the table. "Good work, Jinx. Tell me everything you know."

[conaionaru]

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless/Hvitserk)

No time to die

Synopsis: Skuld finally leaves the hut and reunites with Ivar. She deals with the aftermath.

Warnings: PTSD, murder, revenge, suicide attempt, trauma, toxic relationship

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​

Skuld sat in the hut, watching the light stream in from the small crack in the wall. The wall was sturdy enough to hold her in, but at least it gave her some sort of light—the only ray of sunlight since the start of her confinement.

She felt empty, emptier than she did before. She must look like a madwoman - dirty and crazy. Yet she still laughed. At least some things are very still funny to her, like the occasional shadow that passed by the crack in the wall or the hopelessness of it all. That was the funniest thing for her—the fact she will probably starve here before getting to leave.

All these visions of her future, all crushed in this endless darkness, all because she fucked a cripple. Who knows if what Astrid said is true? Did Lagertha truly only notice her cause she slept with Ivar? If Skuld slept with Margrethe like she thought she would, no one would have paid her any mind... Nonsense. Lagertha was intimidated by Skuld's mind, not her bedfellows.

The new Queen had to make sure no one would challenge, so breaking the most ambitious woman in court was a good example. Better a madwoman than a corpse. Oh, but she will pay for that miscalculation. Skuld would wait and kill her slowly. Dragging it out till there will be nothing left of the bitch than legends and whispers.

Meanwhile, Ivar sat before Lagertha, annoyed by her denial of their fight to the death. "Where is Skuld?" He asked the smug Queen; seeing the uncertainty in her eyes made him perk up. She knew where the now blonde was.

"Skuld is locked away for her own safety. If you want to care for her, I can give her to you." Lagertha said diplomatically as the sons of Ragnar frowned. Sigurd and Ubbe completely forgot about their mother's guest.

"And since when is the daughter of an Earl property?" Ubbe asked, watching the blonde Queen frown.

"A guest in need of supervision. Not property." Shieldmaidens brought the girl in. Dirty, dressed in a slave garb with greasy hair and bloody scratch marks on her arms.

The people gasped as they saw her, so strange compared to her usual style. Skuld shielded her eyes from the sunlight, squinting at the harshness of it and the whispers of the people around her. "Skuld," Ivar called out, making her look at him with shocked eyes. He was alive.

She slowly walked over to him, the armed shieldmaidens behind her. Ubbe draped his fur around her as she clenched Ivar's hand in hers. She was shaking and looking around like a wounded animal.

"I am sorry for your treatment, Skuld. But your behavior against me is unforgivable." The Ylvasdottir looked up at Lagertha and tilted her head to the side.

Her blue eyes trailed over to the proud female warrior still standing there, her guard down as she watched her mentor talk. Skuld blinked and stabbed the woman in the neck. Blood sprayed over her face as the gasping warrior fell backward, the other shieldmaidens catching her bleeding body. Out of her neck stuck a chicken bone, bitten into sharpness.

Everyone gasped as they watched the woman die, Ivar watching the emotionless look on Skuld's face. The female looked at Lagertha, empty eyes meeting shocked ones. "I will rip you apart, limb by limb. All of you will die for what you die. Maybe not today or in a year. But your days are numbered. And when my mother returns, I will have enough skulls collected to serve them all mead in them."

She turned towards the crowds of people and pushed back her shoulders. "Your Queen, the usurper, took me captive and imprisoned me! She starved me and made me live in my own filth like an animal. All because she thought me a threat. I would have never raised a hand against anyone if she left me be! If she can do these horrible things to an innocent bystander..."

Skuld turned back to Lagertha and softened her look, looking like she might cry, but her eyes spoke vengeance. "What would she do to her people? Are the men and women too poor to pay the fines, too weak or old to fight? What will she do to those who don't please her? A prison cell or an execution?"

"You are not as innocent as you like to make people think. You just murdered the third shieldmaiden since my reign."

Skuld frowned and looked at the corpse. "Your shieldmaidens kidnapped me and locked me away like an animal. If you do that, you should expect the beast to bite back once it is free. The safest option... is to put it down and save yourself the impending doom. But I am human, not an animal."

Lagertha clenched her jaw as if she wanted to protest, but she held her tongue. Ivar and Skuld left the hall, the other two brothers following behind them. Skuld walked with her head held low, her shoulders hunched, and steps timidly. The more beat up she looks, the more sympathy she gains. And the easier Lagertha's downfall will be.

"Are you alright, Skuld?" Ubbe asked her watching the dirty girl walk.

"I will be. I could use a bath, food, and clothes."

The dress they put her in was a nice change against the itchy one she had before. But still, she felt unclean. She scrubbed her skin till it was red, blood trailing from some of her old wounds. Margrethe entered the room with a timid smile. The thrall was a free woman now and set to marry a Ragnarsson. Maybe she isn't as stupid as Skuld would like her to believe.

"Food will be ready soon. I just wanted to tell you... I am also sorry for what happened." Skuld smirked and looked at Margrethe's false look of pity.

"You are angry. I get that. After all, you very nearly beat for spreading rumors." 

"You made me spread them. You said it would save me from Ivar's rage, and instead, Aslaug got angry at me." The blonde ex-thrall glared at Skuld. Angry at the obvious betrayal. She felt like a puppet and couldn't believe she trusted Skuld at all. Someone of Skuld's social status would never be kind to a slave.

Skuld sighed and looked up at the wooden ceiling. "I did what I had to do.  You were in no danger, Margrethe. You were a puppet, true, but not a target. Aslaug would have scolded you, not beat you. That's more Lagertha's way, isn't it? She used you more than I did. Worse things."

"Sex slave." Margrethe spat out, annoyed, making Skuld wince. 

"Ah, yes. That bitch is long overdue, don't you think? When the time is ripe, she will fall. For you and for me."

"You want me to believe you are killing her for me?" 

The older blonde chuckled and watched Margrethe's doubtful look. She didn't believe one word Skuld said. Good. She had potential, after all. "Oh, not at all. You just benefit from my revenge. That doesn't mean you shouldn't support me, nonetheless. Free woman or not, take what you are given, Margrethe. Those who strive too high and have nothing to back it up with end up dead - forgotten, with an unmarked grave and no legacy left behind."

"Why all the advice?"

"I told you... We, strong women, should work together. That's the only way we might survive. Always one step ahead."

Margrethe frowned and shook her head. "Is that truly how you live? Always scheming and plotting, expecting betrayal from everyone? Then I truly pity you."

Skuld scoffed and pushed back her shoulders; she looked more terrifying like this. Like a queen about to execute her enemy. And if Margrethe continued to talk, she would become her enemy. "I don't need your pity. This is the world we live in. Where men can do what they want, and only the strong survive. Love, emotion, trust all means weakness in the end. Always expect a dagger in your back; that way, it won't surprise you when it comes. Call me crazy, but I survived. And when all of this is done. All those legendary men will be dead, and the only thing left behind is me. Queen Skuld. Wouldn't it be a nice fate?"

"For a slave to become a Queen? Yes, it would." Skuld smirked at Margrethe's ambition. The fool would die before she ever touched the crown.

"Then I wish you all the luck in the world, Queen Margrethe. After all, you are going to need it." She hunched forward and leveled the ex-slave with a glare. "Not leave. I am still not finished."

Margrethe slammed the door behind her, and the moment they closed, Skuld threw herself on the bed and burrowed herself on in the furs. The walls around her felt small, and the light kept irritating her eyes. Even the voices outside the room were getting on her nerves.

"Never took you for a killing type." Ivar'd voice commented from behind her as he crawled over to her from the door. 

"There are many things you don't know. For instance, right now, I don't want to be around people." The Ragnarsson chuckled and moved up on the bed to lie next to her. But instead of touching her like she thought he would, Ivar just laid there, watching her. 

"Sorry about your parents." She whispered, watching the anger and sadness on his face. 

"It wasn't your fault. We have something in common now, other than than the sex." 

Skuld scoffed at his words and rolled away from him to avoid his offended look. "A common enemy is not relationship material, Ivar. You romanticize it too much."

Ivar rolled his eyes and watched her breathing even out. The scratches on her arms looked terrible—some with newly dried blood on them. "How long were you in there?"

Skuld swallowed and turned on her back. If she looked at the wall for too long, it seemed as if it was inching towards her faster. Ivar's need to talk was driving her up the wall as well; she felt trapped all over again. "I don't know, since Lagertha attacked the village. I was walking, and some shieldmaiden kidnapped me. I killed two but was overpowered. I have no idea how long I spend in that hut."

She felt too vulnerable, admitting it to Ivar. Maybe if she showed some emotion, Ivar would get spooked and leave. Instead, he hummed and took her thin hand in his. "That was two months ago." 

The blonde sucked in a breath and froze. Two months in that hell hole, no wonder she went crazy. She was crazy,... Wasn't she? Only insane people can see walls moving and imagine enemies in every shadow. "Are you alright?"

Ivar's words went to deaf ears as her breathing picked up, her chest falling and rising in panic. Her blood rushing and heart-pounding drowned out his voice in her ears. Skuld clawed at her forearms again; a knock sounded from the door, Ubbe's worried voice asking if they are okay. 

It snapped her from her trance; she sprung from the bed and marched away, shouldering past the oldest Ragnarsson, his wife, and Sigurd. The door banged against the wall as she runs down the hill, needing to be as far away from people as possible. She stopped near a cliff and took in deep breaths to steel herself.

The voices in her head got louder, the pounding of her heart following every sentence like a war drum.

"You would have never been a hostage if you just didn't sleep with Ivar. Lagertha would have never noticed you if you didn't strive so high." 

"I am calling you a dangerous woman with love for violence and death..."

"Deranged whore."

"Glorified drunkard."

"What in Odin's name is wrong with you?! Why are you so weird?"

"What do you mean you don't know what empathy is? Have you never felt sorry for someone?"

"You are manipulating them. They are your puppets, not friends."

Skuld held her head in her hands, her hair tightly clenched between her fingers as her breathing grew harsher by the second. It felt like her heart would explode out of her chest any moment now and jump off the cliff...

She dropped her hands back to her side and closed her eyes. Pushing her shoulders back and holding her head higher did wonder to her look. The blonde now seemed more in control despite the ruffled hair and scratched arms. Her face was still a little bit red from her panic attack. She turned on her heel and marched away from the cliff. Not even ten steps away from the edge and Skuld turned around again.

"Why did you do that?"

"Mercy. It would die anyway. Why let it suffer?"

Why let me suffer? And so she spread her arms and let herself fall off the cliff. The freezing water surrounded her and made the world go dark.

[bedlamgames]

Q&A #106

Today we’ve got humans masquerading as dwarves, learning to dance, bimbos, girly goblins not being girly enough, an extended digression on titles, and more.

[ Anonymous said:] Bug for NH 0.912: The Female Fallen Dwarf portrait shows the Female Fallen Human portrait when selecting your slaver. I downloaded the 3 times and checked it is was on a fresh start or just because of quick restart, but it always appears this way.

- That’s because there currently isn’t one for that combo so the current fallen lady human portrait is needing to work overtime. Do have some good news on that front. I’ve been trying to work out for ages what I was going to do with the portaits that need all these variants as it’s a lot of content needed. However I think I’ve found someone now though who might be up for taking on the challenge and they’ve started work on their first set of portrait+variations. 

[ Anonymous said:]  [no haven 0.912] so I have the harmony trait, and just had a start with 3 normal humans and 1 centaur, I thought harmony was supposed to make the field of starting slavers broader?

- It does increase the variation however humans are still relatively common so you’re still going to see more of them than many of the other races. 

[ Anonymous said:] [no haven 0.912] would it be possible to make the strict supervision(sub) and its dom counterpart able to assign slavers to the MC? I kinda want to just have slavers as my personal subby bitches for dual assignments etc., also a bug seems to still exist where I enslave and sell the owner of a draki maid, but she still stays flagged as owned and spawns her "former" own in as a new slaver or slave occassionally and takes them on assignments with them causing the influence of that "ghosts" traits. (There were several more follow ups as things got more and more broken)

- You can do that right now without needing the aspect if you assign them to be your bedwarmer. Other one should be fix for this update. 

[ Anonymous said:]  [no haven 0.912] I kinda forgot if there is an assignment where the MC slaver can get the dancer perk, was there one or am I confused?

- Imperial Muses currently. Sure there will be others in future. It’s also possible to get it through corruption so theoretically you could get it from any assignment result that can apply corruption. Not something to be  counted than though as corruption.  

[ Anonymous said:]  [no haven 0.912] would it be possible to get bimboborn as a crit result from advanced bimbo training if other requirements (like exquisite fellatrix etc) are met as well? kinda annoying that I can't get myself a bimboborn stack anymore cause corruptions almost never trigger it

- Given the mystical element to the way the aspect works I’d prefer to keep Bimboborn as a rare corruption result. Saying that review of the training results is doing well in the current patreon direction polling so if that wins I’ll see about giving that an additional reward that will hopefully be just as appealing. 

[ Anonymous said:]  [no haven 0.912] so I remember you saying that once you get the golem from tyrannical legacy the quest shouldn't trigger again, well, it did, and I'm currently attempting to get a 2nd copy imgur /QoSPzHE

- Will check. Thank you!

[ Anonymous said:]  Ground forced encounters for an hour with five max-gold slavers, one of which was a Dominator. Couldn't get puppet leader to fire. Think it's still busted.

- You’re right. Is fixed for the upcoming update. 

[ Anonymous said:] Is there any reason that the "Trade Prince" portrait for male goblin can't take feminine, or is that just an oversight?

-  Was indeed an oversight. I’ve made that available for him and some others for the update. 

[ Anonymous said:]  Any chance to add potion or something to cure Cum Addict? Sometimes Orc slavers tend to go hard on single slave that you may want to promote, and there is still a problem with slavers joining with that thing on (may or may not be related with them appearing during/at the end of Orc Cum Addict, or maybe I am getting really unlucky rolls...)

- Not outright cure it once having been through the full training however likely sure when I do potions properly for the increasing levels of cum thirst. In the update there’s also a encampment upgrade which can help (or possibly hurt) with that. 

[ Anonymous said: ] "Outfit: Wrought Extra-padded Iron Mercenary Wear (Decorated with Lots of Lace, Greaves, Reinforced Spike-heeled Boots, Shiny Stockings, Cloak with Hood - quality) +46" Bugged description, does not show type of quality

- Thanks for the spot. 

[ From the Discord:]  Idea: Since XP stops being useful for Supreme-level slavers, maybe every 1000 additional XP or so, they could get a temporary crit buff for a few days? Could call it "experience insight" or something.

-  I'm still thinking about doing that level above with the super aspects

[ From the Discord:]  hey, quick question, how does one get a mystic troll slaver? (which spun out into a discussion about those titles)

- yeah the idea was to give alternate more thematic titles to slavers  on generation other than well slaver to give a quick hey this is what this slaver is good at prompt. 

Any with a * won't apply to those races which would always have those traits:

Terrifying* - Chosen

Were - Lycanthrope

Flying* - Skybreaker

Trainer - Master/Mistress

(M:Co) - Warlock / Fel-Mistress (Succubi) 

(M: Na) - Hedge-Wizard / Hedge-Witch 

(M:Bt) - Blightomancer 

(M:Ar) - Mage 

(M:Il) - Trickster 

(M:Bi) - Shaper 

(M:Su) - Spirit Singer 

Monster* -  Vanquisher (Golem) / Goliath / Hellion 

(E:Ea)/(E:Wa) - Mystic 

(E:Li) - Spark Thief 

(E:Fi) - Pyromancer 

(E:Ai) - Wind Twister 

Dominator - Thrall Binder 

Hypnotic - Entrancer 

Healer - Acolyte 

Psionic - Psion 

Tracker+Trapper - Hunter 

Tracker - Tracker (Such an obscure out there choice) 

Fleet - Outrider 

Loner+Seductive - Agent 

Beastmaster - Beastmaster (Again so obscure) 

Thug - Mook 

Bimbo - Bimbo (Which could mean anything really) 

Fel Tainted+Tentacles - Abomination 

There's also all the uniques who tend to have their own alternatives to Slaver

[the-ipre]

Lup as The Wordless One AU,,?

- Davenport is the one who tries to go and take back his relic, the stories of illusory armies and magiced up monsters making him grit his teeth and decide to take action. He was the captain, after all, and he couldn’t just sit idly by. He searched, and even though he was still unable to find the Oculus, he found something of a life. He stayed in an inn in a port town, and he made some friends, and they all knew that he was searching but they just viewed him as something of an eccentric adventurer. When Lucretia fed her journal to the Voidfish Davenport lost a lot. He lost the memories of his childhood, growing up on the IPRE campus, and he lost memories of the mission, and he lost his family, but he still had some life to remember. There were so many gaps in his memory, but those around him were there to say You’re Davenport, you’ve been here for about a year, you were looking for...something. He can say more than just his name, and even though his memory is about as complete as swiss cheese he still has some bits of who he is.

- Lup, on the other hand, stayed on the moon base. The one day that she tried to leave to get her relic back, Taako was in the kitchen, and when he asked where she was going, well. They were twins, and for all the years of practice she couldn’t exactly lie to him. He held her back, and she didn’t go to get the gauntlet, and more cities were turned into black glass. More cities were turned into peppermint, and more islands were lost to storms, and Lucretia couldn’t stand by and watch the deaths. She carefully, so carefully, crafted a journal, and she fed it to the Voidfish, and all of her friends forgot themselves. She had a home for Merle, and a teaching position for Barry – who wasn’t on the deck of the ship looking for Lup, this time around, and he wasn’t killed by his friend – and she had a stagecoach all set up for Lup and Taako. Sizzle it Up! With Lup and Taako. When she found them, though, Lup’s head was in her hands and Taako crouched next to her, confused, and Lucretia felt a knot tangle in her stomach.

- Turns out that being a lich and having your love story taken away from you, along with a fair amount of your life, snipped away and turned into a paper snowflake, can do something to a girl. Lucretia wasn’t quite sure where things had gone more wrong for her than they had for Barry, but they had, and all that Lup could say was her own name. Taako still knew that she was his sister, though, and Lup knew that Taako was her brother, and so Lucretia gave them the stagecoach, and a world to travel as they pleased, because even after what she had done everyone deserved to see them. They travelled, and cooked, and even though Lup always had trouble making those connections between what she was thinking and what she was saying, and even though she could only say her name even as she winked as she always had done, and even as she had a brother and a scrambled brain, she kept the important bits.

- Taako and Lup had a different set of cons than they used to, most of them now hinging on oh my poor dear sister, she can’t speak, can’t you please help us, as Taako robbed the person blind and Lup blinked owlishly like she didn’t know what was going on. Afterwards, they would split the spoils, and Lup would laugh, and Taako would make a joke and for a second expect Lup to respond, and for a second she expected to respond as well, and then she would open her mouth and say Lup!��There is a moment where everything feels so deeply wrong, and then that slips away as they think well, isn’t this how it’s always been? They made a life on the road, same as they always did, and even though things were irrevocably shifted, it felt like nothing had changed in a number of ways.

- Lup, Taako, and Magnus take the job for Gundren Rockseeker, but there is not a Barry Bluejeans the Fighter. He is still off being a professor, slowly starting to find himself involved in necromancy, and there is some other person brought along the quest. The three of them find the gauntlet, and Lup can’t get rid of the ever persistent feeling that there is something she is missing, and they get a job with the Bureau of Balance. Merle and Davenport come along later, finding their way onto the Rockport Limited and joining the Bureau when it turns out that they can both resist the thrall of the relic. Merle met Davenport after leaving his home with the beach dwarves, and after drifting through life in a port town Davenport felt like he had finally found something important.

- Lucretia finally feels like she has so much of her family back, but it is all shifted. There’s loss behind Magnus’ eyes, and Davenport has become much more crunchy and less focused, and Merle seems like he’s running from something instead of just enjoying life, and Taako doesn’t trust any of the others besides Lup, and Lup, she has lost so much of her own. She could only say her own name, and even though she was still bright and visible and impossible to ignore, some of that light had dimmed. Sometimes she would simply stand there, staring, lost in thought between one connection and the next. Lucretia did all that she could to make a home again, though, and it might not have been enough, but that never stopped her from trying.

- They continue on their adventures, and with five reclaimers, they don’t all have to go on missions. Sometimes Lup has a bad brain day, everything falling through even more than usual, and Taako will stay back as well, because I’m good out here, y’all can go get your dicks chopped off by some plants without me there to supervise. They cook, or explore the moonbase, or pester Madam Director, and if things sometimes feel like they are a bit closer to fitting together, well, who are they to complain. Davenport and Lup bond, and Davenport gets the feeling that if things were just a few bits shifted, he might be in her place. His past is full of enough holes as it is, and the two of them become masters of comfortable silence. Davenport can talk when he needs to, and Lup can laugh when she needs to, but it is nice to simply be able to sit back with someone else who gets it. 

- The story goes on, as it always does, and in the background Barry becomes involved in necromancy, professor as he is, and he ends up dying. He comes back as a lich, and everything comes back, and he soon learns that the Hunger is coming back as well, and he resolves to do something about it. The next mission that the squad goes on he finds them, and he recognizes Lup and is so happy, but when all she can say is Lup (even as everything in her screams out that he’s important, do something) he starts to get a wider scope of what happened. He works in the background, checking up on the rotating cast of his family as they go out into the world to retrieve the relics that they released, and he tries to find a way to fix things.

- Things spiral together, and Barry finds his way back onto the moonbase, and everyone gets their memories back. There is no tremendous you took everything from me; instead, Taako just holds Lup as she holds him, because they have known that they were twins this whole time but everything just came flooding back. They are Taako and Lup, and they lost a century, and Lup almost lost herself, but they still had each other. Even when so much else was gone they still had each other, and they were still siblings, and now everything came back. They had a family bigger than each other, and all of those people were back, and even though the apocalypse was knocking at their doors they could ignore that for just a moment.Their family was here, and it wasn’t just the two of them anymore, and they were Taako and Lup but they were so much more than that as well.

- The Hunger is defeated, and Lup talks even more than she did before everything went down. She can actually think through thoughts, and she can say what she’s thinking, and she can tell Barry how much she loves him, and she can tell Taako how much he means to her in the same sentence that she roasts his sauce-making skills, and she doesn’t fall silent. She can still appreciate that comfortable quiet with Davenport, but those moments are much more few and far between. Now that she has herself back, now that she can talk and be so loud and bright as ever, she has trouble letting that slip away so that she can simply exist, no questions necessary.

[wishyskeleton]

Hmmmmm how about.....Sergio. What an original idea right

>Sergio. What an original idea right

>A weird hairy skeleton. You met him in the woods. He’s shown himself to be very kind, and earned his own spot in your family. You have many things you want to ask him about, but respecting his privacy comes first. Sadie and Sam will probably ask them anyway.

>A skeleton with your [Red Notebook] pages lining his coat. Is you, apparently. The details are foggy. At least you won’t become a skeleton anytime soon, but if you did, being one like Sergio would be kind of cool, at least.

>A cool skeleton that moves without legs. Max’s weird uncle now, as far as you are concerned. Their sharp intuition have quickly become invaluable to your investigations.

>Your old friend from the Lanan Tunnels. He’s a little thinner and without company since the last time you saw him, you’re in no hurry to press. You’ve had a lot more time to rest now that he’s helping supervise Marco.

>An undead, potentially a necromancer’s thrall who’s a little too close to the children for your comfort. You’re very uneasy dealing with it, but unfortunately, it seems to be your only ticket out of this mess. You only hope you don’t become a Shadow’s thrall yourself when it’s over.