#the atmosphere of the sewers feels like it was given a lot of attention

[oddly-casual]

I’m gonna try and keep this as non spoiler-ey as I can, but one thing about Mutant Mayhem that I appreciated was that the sewers felt lonely. Every iteration of tmnt makes the lair feel lonely and isolated at times because the turtles are literally forced into hiding (except for Rise, their lair always felt like a home).

But in MM they took extra steps to make the space feel cramped and dark, no major lighting source aside from lamps, candles, and phone lights. Warm colors are scarce in the sewer and the pipes and valves take away any space they could’ve have had, not just in their home but everywhere in the sewers. It actually makes you not want to be in the sewers, because it’s all cold. Even the bars of the sewer grate look like prison bars! Every time they close the manhole cover it sounds like a door being slammed, like they are sealing themselves away.

Obviously this changes, and MM isn’t the first to do this, but it’s the first time watching anything TMNT related that I actually felt uncomfortable in the space that was supposed to be their home.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

A familiar Soul - Chapter Nine

Summary: Hilda decides to be completely honest with her mother, surprised when she seems to be a lot more in on magic than Hilda had expected her to be.

With her daughter’s association with witches, Johanna is forced to face some secrets of her own, bringing her back to feelings and people she’d rather have left behind

Dealing with insecurities and inner demons of her own, Kaisa finds herself face to face with the very issues that brought her to be so displeased with her own abilities

Or: the one where Johanna is Kaisa’s familiar

Notes: I suppose this is more of a filler chapter, but I hope you could enjoy some shippy fluff anyways. And look! We’re over the half way mark now :D

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8) (chpt9)

The second time Matilda hears that story, the atmosphere is astoundingly different.

She pretends to never have heard about the recent happenings in the sewers, of course, because Frida sounded so excited about her success that she wanted to give the girl an opportunity to ramble about it all she wanted, without leaving any detail out. Tildy would be the first to admit she was no actress, but she thought she did quite well with making exclamations of surprise, worry and wonder at just the right times, all the while feeling the warmth of pride fill her chest.

Hilda had come with her that day, and even though she wasn’t as thrilled with the recent adventure as her witch, it was stark clear that she wasn’t traumatized or scarred from it like any other person would be. If there was anything bothering her, it seemed to have been her mother’s attitude, but she hadn’t talked much about it and Tildy hadn’t pressed her. Still, the sorceress couldn’t deny that the outcome could have easily been tragic had her apprentices taken any longer to arrive, and as someone who cared about Hilda that truly didn’t sit well with her. Besides, she had made a promise to Johanna, after all.

Having been told that story by Kaisa right after it had happened, she had had enough time to prepare for the girls’s next visit. On top of the small table by the door, there were two miniature drawstring velvet bags, the sort that was used to carry crystals when a witch wished to take them on a trip. Inside those two, however, there were no precious stones, and Tildy picked them up when she had finished congratulating Frida for her magic feat.

“Only one thing worries me.” As nonchalantly as she could, Tildy weighed the two bags on her hands, making sure they felt the same. “If something of the sort happens again, you might not be as close to Hilda, or vice versa. I made some of this for both of you, and it would make this old woman a lot calmer if you could promise to keep it with yourselves at all times.”

Frida took the bags from her hands and passed one on to Hilda, whose curiosity immediately led her to opening it. A bluish glow lit up the underside of her face as she stared inside, amazed. It looked like Tildy had captured all of the stars in the sky and trapped them in that tiny satchel.

“What is this?” Frida asked as she looked over Hiilda’s shoulder and into her friend’s bag. The scent of seawater tickled her nose, and traveled down to her lungs making her feel like she was on the beach on a stormy day.

“Enchanted kraken shell powder.”

Hilda gasped “Kraken shell?!”

“Enchanted powdered kraken shell. Should one of you ever be in danger, the other needs only to step on some amount of the powder and find themselves instantly by their side. Crafty, isn’t it?”

Blinking, Frida tried to get past her surprise. Yes, it was crafty, but most of all it was impossible. Wasn’t it?

“Tildy, how on earth did you get this?”

Her mentor shrugged. “I know people. And the kraken was already dead, so worry not for that.”

While Frida tried to comb her mind for any spell that had a similar end and could be manipulated to have that same result, attempting to figure out how such an awe inspiring feat was done, Hilda’s head was already filled with ideas of how useful that could come in the future.

“That’s so cool!” She exclaimed. “Could it work with other people too?”

Dialing Hilda’s excitement down, Tildy moved her head left to right in a negative gesture. “This powder only works between witch and familiar. That’s why it's so rare. Familiars are usually treated as pets, so they rarely stay away from their witch at all.”

“But how are we supposed to know when the other will need help if we’re not close by?’

“But that’s the exciting part!” Tildy clasped her hands together in glee. “I think it’s time for you two to learn about the call!”

Though she herself didn’t know what that was about, Hilda noticed Frida gasp softly; no doubt her witch had already read about that.

“That’s really true? I tried to send the call to Hilda one day to test it but… I don’t think it worked.”

“Wait, what?” Hilda turned to her friend while her mentor watched them with amusement. “I never got any call from you.”

“That’s why I’m saying it didn’t work, Hilda.”

“The call isn’t something you get, darling.” Moving past them, Tildy began walking in the direction of the room where they did their magic training. It was the girls’ cue to follow her. “It is something you feel. The bond between witch and familiar is so strong that you are able to send a signal of sorts to each other, but you have to properly learn how to do it first. Once this ability is activated, you never lose it.”

“So cool!” Both of them gasped at the same time as they followed on the sorceress’s tail.

Turning the brass knob clockwisely and sending a jolt of magic through it (after all, what kind of witch would she be if her spell room was protected only by mundane ways?), Tildy opened the door to allow them in.

“It’s good to see your excitement! Shall we begin?”

_#_#_#_

Even though Kaisa would be the first to say that rainy days were her favourite, she had to admit to being glad for the sun shining brightly that afternoon. The event would be ruined otherwise, and that would make Johanna terribly upset.

Children of different ages ran excitedly through the stands that were put up in the field near the Sparrow Scouts Hall, playing games which Kaisa couldn’t recognize or gathering close to said stands. The Raven Leader had had the idea of introducing the children to different crafts, in order to try and make them interested in parts of their culture that weren’t given much attention. Being one of the senior Sparrow Scouts, Johanna had taken upon herself great part of the responsibility for organizing that event, and Kaisa even had accompanied her to those professionals’ houses to be with her when she made the invitation. Artisans with a wide range of different abilities now showed their skills to the children, and Kaisa was sure her girlfriend must be feeling really proud of the result of her work.

As she looked for Johanna among the swarm of similarly dressed scouts, Kaisa could only imagine how livid Henrietta would be if she learned that a witch so close to being fully trained was attending such a human event; mingling with non witches was not something she was encouraged to do, and the feeling of rebellion made being there even more worth it. Of course, that still couldn’t compare to the chance of seeing her girlfriend doing something she felt comfortable with.

Kaisa found her in the middle of the crowd, giving information to a trio of children who didn’t know where to begin exploring the event. After sending them on their way to a woman who was demonstrating the making of julehjerters, little decorative hearts of weaved paper, Johanna lifted her gaze and noticed the witch observing her. With a smile on her face, she beckoned Kaisa closer and closed her in a tight hug.

“I’m so glad to see you here!” She chirped into Kaisa’s cardigan, both of them taking a couple of seconds to just hold each other.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Answered Kaisa, looking around without dislodging herself from the embrace. “Are you sure I can be here, though? I only see other scouts around.”

Granted, the witch knew she wasn't the best of influences when it came to following rules, but she still wouldn’t want Johanna to get into any kind of trouble because of her. There were no other outsiders around her, and Kaisa didn’t think stealing a sash from some random kid would be a good solution.

Johanna took a step back, though she kept herself close enough that they were still holding each other’s waits, and smiled. “Don’t worry about it! We were encouraged to call people for the event. I just asked you to come earlier so we could make the most out of it, but people will begin arriving soon enough.”

“‘The most of it?’” Kaisa lifted an eyebrow.

“Of course!” Johanna’s eyes glittered as she tugged on her hand, guiding her girlfriend through the gathering. Kaisa didn’t resist, trusting her girlfriend knew where she was going as she began feeling a scent of flour and hearth in the air, which got stronger with every step they took. “There are things we must try before there are queues! Have you ever eaten a traditional lefse?”

_#_#_#_

Johanna had been right; it didn’t take long before a crowd began gathering on the field, both people who seemed to be there for their Sparrow Scout loved ones or those who only happened to hear about the event and showed up to enjoy the activities. As she’d already worked hard to make that event happen, not much else was expected from her except helping a confused younger scout every now and then, leaving her with time to spend with Kaisa.

Already eating their second serving of lefse with butter, they were discussing a way to find the recipe (Kaisa had offered to use a spell to steal a copy from the stallman, but unfortunately Johanna had stopped her before she had the chance) when one of the faces among the ones surrounding them caught their attention. Not because it was familiar to them in any way, but because there was something unquestionably strange about it. Framed by eerily red bangs, the girl’s eyes seemed to reflect no light at all. Johanna tried to point her out subtly.

“There’s something weird about that girl.” She said, watching Kaisa’s eyes narrow as if she was staring right through the other teenager.

“She’s a marra.” The witch stated with not an inkling of doubt in her voice, even though Johanna couldn’t tell what kind of magic she might have used to reach that conclusion, and turned to her with a sly smile in the corner of her mouth. “Should we do something about it?”

“No, I don’t think we should. Let’s not ruin our lovely day.”

“Anna, where is your sense of adventure?” Kaisa lifted an eyebrow, only half joking. She had noticed that with each passing day her girlfriend became less and less excited about the things they used to do together. It didn't mean that they were drawing apart, since they still always enjoyed simply being together, but sometimes Kaisa worried that things were changing too fast; while Johanna got more mature, she still felt moved by the same things she did as a child. She could only hope Johanna would never outgrow magic. It’s not like Kaisa had anything else to offer her.

“Right here, as always.” Johanna tapped her chest playfully, making Kaisa giggle, and then slid her arm across her girlfriend’s back to keep her close. “But the only adventure I’m interested in right now is being with you.”

Rolling her eyes, Kaisa leaned her head against Johanna’s shoulder and resigned herself to not doing anything. She watched the bustling event with little interest, focusing only on Johanna’s comments about school, her family, the Sparrow Scouts and all the other things happening in her life. Adventurous or not, she would have loved to spend the whole evening like that. Soon, however, Johanna took her arm away from around her witch, which made her look up questioningly.

Johanna was wearing an apologetic expression, trying her best to not look away from Kaisa’s face. The few strands of curly copper hair falling in front of her eyes made her seem disheveled for a moment. “We should probably get going. People are leaving, the place will be deserted soon.”

“Right.” Kaisa sat upright on the bench. “Want to come over for dinner? Tildy said she was making stew.”

The smile that Johanna had managed to put up wavered. “I’d love to, but… not today.”

After so many years, Kaisa recognized that tone of voice, and her own happiness faltered. “Your parents?”

“Yeah.” As a cooler breeze brushed against their skins, Johanna shivered. “They don’t like it that I seem to be out more often than before.”

It took Kaisa effort not to huff. Of course Johanna was going out more; she was trying to get extracurriculars under her belt for when the time came to send out college applications, not to mention how she had taken to helping some of her friends with their studying. How it escaped Johanna’s parents' notice that they were lucky to have a daughter like Johanna, Kaisa didn’t know, but she did take them for fools for it. Though Kaisa had to admit that their wariness of her didn’t get them any points with her either.

She did, of course, know that Johanna was certainly more upset with this than she could be. It was her problem to deal with, after all, and Kaisa wouldn’t make it worse by protesting. As they lifted themselves up to their feet, she tried to smile reassuringly.

“You could come over some other day, then. Don’t worry about it.”

Despite her mood, Johanna’s spirits were lifted by Kaisa’s thoughtfulness, and she leaned in to kiss her girlfriend sweetly on her lips, uncaring of who could see them. She tasted of coffee and of the lefse they’d had some time before, leaving Johanna slightly breathless when she drew back. Their hands interlaced between them as their foreheads touched, they had to make an enormous amount of effort to let go.

“Good evening, then.” Kaisa whispered, wondering how on earth the day had passed by so fast. If she thought such magic even existed, she would have suspected of some wicked witch casting a spell to steal their time from them. “And good luck.”

[riversofmars]

Chapter 12: Expectations

Skaro

“I think I would chose a more comfortable place to die, to be honest…“

Missy looked up to see the Emperor stepping out of his TARDIS that had materialised in the medical centre. He looked around slightly bemused and his eyes fell on the pair in front of him. Missy sat with Davros who was looking old and frail.

“And better company, too.“ He added as he pulled out the confessionary dial from his coat pocket.

“Is that why you’re here?“ Missy eyed the dial he was turning in his hand. She was surprised he’d actually bothered to come.

“I’m still your best and oldest friend is seems.“ He chuckled before chucking the dial at her dismissively.

“Well, this is… atmospheric.“ River stepped into the doorway of the TARDIS, seemingly bored of waiting inside. She looked around and wrinkled her nose.

“Don’t worry, dear, won’t be staying long.“ The Emperor turned to her, extending his hand, ever the gentleman, as she stepped out of the TARDIS as well.

“It seems congratulations are in order, Doctor, albeit a bit late.“ Davros’s voice was weak but the distaste was obvious.

“Ah yes, been a while Davros. How’s life. Thought I was here to watch Missy die, not you, but perhaps it’s my lucky day and it’s both of you.“ The Emperor smirked at him, ignoring the use of his old alias. Instead he turned to his wife. “River, Davros and Missy, Davros and Missy, my lovely wife Professor River Song.“ He introduced them with great amusement.

“I hear it was quite the wedding.“ Davros turned his chair to face them, doing his best to appear strong but the way he reached for Missy’s hand betrayed him. Missy stood, regarding the couple in front of them. She had not met the Emperor’s wife before, he had been alone when they had stood amongst the Cybermen. She had, however, heard all about their wedding day, the entire universe had.

“Yeah, lovely day, wasn’t it, dear.“ The Emperor smirked and River sighed:

“Why are we here?“

“Yes, why are we?“ He looked to Missy. “Are you quite certain you’re about to die or should we come back later?“

“I’m not, no.“ Missy replied curtly and as if on cue, all doors to the medical wing opened and Daleks rushed in, surrounding the TARDIS. The trap was sprung.

“Ohhh, would you look at that.“ The Emperor grinned and raised his impressive eyebrows, there was a sense of excitement about his expression.

“I’m about to die, Doctor, the last thing I wanted to see with my own eyes was the sun rising on a world that’s finally safe from you.“ Davros spoke, summoning his last ounce of strength. When he had taken this suggestion to the Master, she had not been keen, but he had had to try, so here they were.

“That’s low, Missy, setting a trap like this, I would have thought it beyond you.“ The Emperor looked to Missy with mild amusement.

“Someone has to stop you.“ She retorted calmly, trying her best to hide how uncomfortable the situation was making her.

“Did you think you were being clever? You know I would come if you sent me that dial, didn’t you.“ The Emperor stepped away from the TARDIS circling around the room as if the Daleks weren’t even there as he regarded the medical equipment. Davros really was the one dying here, not Missy. River watched her husband, Missy could tell she was feeling nervous about him leaving her side, but she remained quiet and watched.

“I knew it would get your attention.“ Missy focused on the Emperor again.

“And you, Davros, one last thing to do before you finally give up the ghost?“ The Emperor asked, his voice condescending. “Look at all this, keeping yourself alive, I know what you need…“ He returned his attention to the medical equipment and his hands turned golden with regenerative energy.

“Sweetie!“ River called out when she realised what he was doing but it was too late, he grabbed hold of the tubes connected to Davros.  

“You’re making us stronger. Why…“ Davros looked to the Emperor in shock. He felt his strength growing and with him, the Daleks all around.

“No, stop it.“ Missy called out as she realised what he was doing and pushed him away with some force. The Emperor stumbled and caught himself. He regarded her with a grin as he returned to his wife.

“Ah see, you’re not half as stupid as you look.“ He smirked as Davros turned to Missy looking for an explanation.

“The sewers, Davros.“ Missy said grimly and focused on the Emperor again who delighted in the sense of panic that spread amongst the Daleks.

“No.“ There was rumbling far below the city and realisation dawned on Davros’s drawn features.

“Never forget who you are dealing with.“ The Emperor grinned with wicked delight. “Now have a unpleasant death.“

“No!“ Missy called but he ignored her and pushed the door to the TARDIS open. He put his arm around River’s shoulder.

“Kill him!“ Davros shouted to the Daleks but they weren’t listening, desperately looking for a way out as rumble below their feet became louder.

“How can you just stand by and watch this, River, you were raised better than this!“ Missy burst out catching River’s eye as she turned to follow her husband. Madame Kovarian had told her and made her peace, before she went to the godforsaken wedding. And now, Missy could only look at the girl she had tried to protect with disbelief and hurt. River looked back and Missy hoped for a moment she sensed her stalling but then she just carried on into the TARDIS without looking back.

——

“I think they’re on to you.“ River perched on the bed when Clara opened the the door. The visitors had long left and River had gotten bored waiting by the door. She knew Clara would come back for her eventually.

“She’s always like that.“ Clara waved off her comment and chucked some clothes at River. “You might want to get changed, you stand out.“ She gestured to her environmental suit.

“Are we going for a candle light dinner?“ River raised her eyebrows at the silky gown Clara had given her as she held it up.

“Get changed, then we talk.“ Clara rolled her eyes at her and turned to leave again.

“Are you going to be honest with me now?“ River called after her but didn’t get a response.

When River emerged from the small bedroom, she found Clara had tidied up the mess she had made earlier and a meal had been laid out on the table. Clara was just pouring herself a glass of wine and looked up. The gown fit well, of course it did, it belonged to the other River after all. Clara made a mental note to see to some shoes as River was barefoot at the moment. Her sense of style probably didn’t allow her to wear the practical boots with a pretty dress.

“Candle light dinner after all?“ River questioned, noticing that Clara had got changed as well, though in her case it was probably just because her shirt had been blood stained. The cut up her arm appeared to be bandaged up now, at least so it seemed from the bulge under the sleeve of her cardigan.

“I don’t know which one of you I find more irritating.“ Clara sighed taking a sip of her wine as she waited for her to sit.

“Me or my twin from this universe you mean?“ River asked as she sat and poured herself a drink as well. The food looked delicious and she felt she needed a drink right about now. So why not take advantage of the opportunity? She didn’t have anything better to do.

“You’re quick.“ Clara observed as she helped herself to food.

“Wasn’t exactly hard to figure out listening to your conversation with them.“ River shrugged mirroring Clara’s actions. “Makes a whole lot more sense now why you need the Doctor’s help.“

“You’ve only just arrived, you haven’t seen the damage the Emperor has done.“ Clara started but River laughed:

“You can cut the crap, there is no need to pretend with me. You don’t care about the population or anything else.“ She took a sip of the wine and regarded Clara over the rim of the glass. “You just want the power, which is fair enough, I don’t like playing second fiddle either. But here is my question: She trusted you once, she doesn’t seem to be the sort of person that trusts people easily, so at some point you were loyal to her. What changed?“

“I don’t think I owe you an explanation.“ Clara retorted cooly as she cut a piece off the steak on her plate.

“You don’t but you will give me one.“ River replied leaning forward.

“Is that so?“ Clara chuckled, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes because you want something from me.“ River nodded skewering green beans with her fork.

“And what makes you say that?“ Clara asked tilting her head a little.

“You could have just left me in that room until tomorrow afternoon when everything is done. If you just needed me to be able to blackmail the Doctor, you wouldn’t have wasted your precious time on me. But here we are, having a meal together, wine is good too, so you want something from me.“ River took another sip of her wine. It actually was very nice.

“I did say you were quick.“ Clara smirked, she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or unsettled by her quick deduction but she figured either way, it would make things easier.

“So before you tell me what it is you want from me, butter me up a little and let me in on why you’re doing this.“ River leaned forward. She couldn’t deny she was a little intrigued. It wasn’t every day one visited a parallel universe and met different version of themselves. “There was no small measure of animosity between you and my twin. Something happen between you?“

“Nothing springs to mind.“ Clara shrugged cutting another piece of meat.

“Oh so this isn’t about how you’re in love with the Emperor and want her all to yourself but can’t because she’s married and faithful and if you can’t have her, then no-one should?“ River mused nonchalantly. “I mean, that’s just the general vibe I’m getting, I could be wrong… I only listened in a little.“ She shrugged and took another bite as she watched with amusement as Clara’s expression went from surprised to angry to embarrassed. “I couldn’t care less, Clara, it’s not my wife you’re after.“ It had been Clara’s statement to the Doctor about how she wasn’t going to convince the Emperor that she was a more suitable match that had given her away.

“You have no idea what it’s like, you have her! You wouldn’t understand!“ Clara snapped, struggling to keep her emotions in check. She was starting to dislike this River as much as the one she knew, though for different reasons. She couldn’t stand how she acted like she could just see right through her.

“I think I understand far better than you know.“ River sighed. “So this place… it’s not just a parallel universe, it’s a mirror universe, isn’t that right?“ She looked over to the window, looking out over the Citadel. “We’re opposites of each other so to speak?“ She looked back to Clara. “Where the Doctor is kind, the Emperor is cruel?“ She had to be sure she was getting this right, a lot would depend on it.

“I suppose so.“ Clara replied reluctantly, she hadn’t given it too much thought but it certainly appeared that way. From what she had learned from the Doctor so far, their universe was as different to theirs as it could possibly be.

“What of my parents, Amy and Rory, are they here?“ River pressed on.

“They are.“

“Not trapped in Manhattan then, and I’m not dead. Different choices, due to different personality, different outcome.“ She was speaking to herself more than anything else as she worked through the information.

“What is your point?“ Clara carried on eating, trying not to get unnerved.

“Well, I’m just trying to understand. I don’t know you, Clara, not in my universe, I must have died before the Doctor travelled with you… So we never would have had competed for the Doctor’s affection.“ River tilted her head, looking Clara up and down. She was certainly pretty, she couldn’t deny that. She wondered what the Clara in their universe was like.

“If it makes you feel better, she said she never had romantic feelings for her Clara.“ Clara huffed.

“Wouldn’t have made a difference to me, I was dead. I would want them to be happy.“ River shrugged. “Believe me, we’re not that exclusive…“ She couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What?“ Clara looked at her utterly confused.

“You find that hard to believe, don’t you? Different personalities, remember?“ River pointed out.

“But you love the Doctor.“ Clara frowned.

“Of course I do. With all my hearts. And she loves me, I know she does. She just broke every rule in the universe to bring me back. I once broke time for her. It happens.“ River laughed a little, thinking about the lengths they had both gone to for each other.

“But…“ Clara didn’t know what to make of her statements, it made no sense to her.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that your River and I have made different experiences with our spouses. River has always been with the Doctor, sorry, Emperor, since you’ve known them, right?“ River asked, noticing how Clara had stopped eating, she was clearly intrigued.

“Of course, they barely spend any time apart…“ Clara confirmed.

“So I imagine she’s scared about losing her. To the universe or to anyone else for that matter.“ River carried on, her suspicions confirmed.

“What do you mean by that?“ Clara asked.

“The Doctor and I have been all over each other’s timeline, out of order, bad timing, stolen moments, there was some time together, yes, one very long night… but our relationship was never what your Emperor and her wife seem to be enjoying.“ River explained, putting her cutlery down as well.

“That’s…“ Clara was surprised, she didn’t know what to say.

“Sad? I guess so. But I’m grateful for the time we had. And I learned not to hold the Doctor too tightly. I learned to be grateful for those moments and that our bond is stronger than time itself. That’s why I’m not scared or worried about her devotion to me. What we have is bigger than that. So, what I’m guessing is whatever your River has been through, the life she has had with her Doctor… she’s clinging on to them because she’s scared of losing them. That’s why she’s jealous. That’s why she’s confrontational. She’s insecure about what they have. Mirror opposite to me.“ Of course River couldn’t be sure, she had never met the woman, but it made a lot of sense to her. She knew the feeling all too well. Before she had met the newly regenerated Doctor on their trip to Darillium, she had assumed he didn’t love her nearly as much as she loved him. He had spent twenty-four years showing her how wrong she had been. Then it had been time to part ways again, knowing it might well have been their last night together. River had only been able to do it because she had finally realised how strong their bond truly was. And now, she was here, after the Doctor had saved her from certain death, proving her right, yet again.  

Clara didn't know what to say, she just looked at River dumbfounded. In the same way as the Doctor was soft and kind in comparison to the Emperor’s roughness and cruelty, she had expected this River to also be a more mellow and sweet version of the tough and short-tempered empress she knew. But it seemed as though River was far more conflicted in her motivations than she had anticipated and her mirror image wasn’t as clear cut as the others.

Almost as if River had read her mind, she carried on:

“Did you think because she’s tough, I had to be weak? Some people are more complicated and I can only presume, this will be the case for her and me. We all carry both good and bad in us, some of us more than most.“ River swirled her wine. She was curious about the other River now. She knew herself to be someone who at any given time was able to go one way or the other. There was one determining force in her life, the same she presumed to be true for her counterpart: “She may be cruel and tough but she’s doing it for her. Just like I’m being good for the Doctor. We both just want to make them happy. Love can do that to you. Make you change everything about yourself so you can be the person they want and need you to be. I’m a psychopath, the Doctor will confirm it. I was born and raised to kill the Doctor. Of course, I fell in love with them instead but the damage is done. And she’s not here right now.“ River leaned forward setting her glass down. “I’m also a pragmatist. I’ll do what I can to help people, particularly when it aligns with my own interests, but we it’s a choice of me or them? Well.“

“You’re… not what I expected.“ Clara shook her head in disbelief, chuckling.

“No?“ River grinned amused. “Well, we’ve only just met.“

“Why are you telling me all this?“ Clara asked leaning forward as well.

“Because you’re about to ask me to help you and I want you to know what sort of a person you’re dealing with. I love the Doctor. I will do anything to keep her safe. So before you do something stupid like threaten to harm her in any way or put her in danger, just tell me what you want from me so we can get out of here. I have no interest in this place and your squabbles. The agreement you had with my wife stands. We help and you give us the TARDIS.“ River reached for the wine bottle to refill her glass.

“That was… far easier than I anticipated.“ Clara shook her head to herself unable to believe her luck.

“Why?“ River took a sip of her drink. This really was good wine. “Did you expect me to kick up a fuss?“

“Well, yes.“ Clara laughed and held out her glass to River who obliged and filled it. “I’m about to ask you to impersonate the Emperor’s wife, sneak into their quarters and kill the Emperor while I deal with her wife. Does that not bother you?“

“Is that all?“ River chuckled.

——

“Darling, you must know that she is playing you, you must!“ River burst out when they returned to their quarters and the door closed behind them.

“River…“ The Emperor sighed, then chuckled. She really was persistent, wasn’t she.

“No, don’t shot me down again, you already humiliated me by doing it back there, now you listen!“ River snapped, her emotions bubbling over. She couldn’t believe her wife refused to see it. For a long time her dislike of Clara had been with very little factual reason, she admitted it. It perhaps was a little childish and born out of an insecurity that she usually kept well hidden, but things were different now. This was not a time for wishful thinking or blind loyalty.

“No, you listen!“ The Emperor interrupted her. She reached for River’s hand but her wife pulled away, still angry. She was just about to go off on another rant but the Emperor pushed her index finger against her lips to shush her. “I know she’s up to something, River, I’m not blind! Of course she is.“ She smirked and River’s face fell, her continued protest dying on her lips. The Emperor reached out and took her face in her hands and reassured her. “There was no denying it now.“

“Then why…“ River looked at her perplexed and annoyed in equal measures. She was relieved of course but confused as to why she hadn’t said so before.

“What do we gain from putting her down now? If she is indeed in league with the Doctor or has somehow secured her cooperation, they will meet up again.“ The Emperor explained.

“You want to see what she’s up to?“ River huffed. It made sense of course but she would have preferred she didn’t take the risk.

“They have to be up to something. At first I thought it was just a matter of escape for the Doctor but she came back to talk to Clara… there must be more to it.“ The Emperor mused. She let go of River and strolled over to the drinks cabinet. They had gone from viewing the Doctor as a valuable asset of information, to having to worry about a treasonous plot in their midst. If this was really the case, she had underestimated the Doctor, the Emperor had to admit it. She felt River’s eyes on her and looked around to find genuine worry painted all over it. “She won’t outwit us.“ She sat down her glass without drinking and returned to her wife, more concerned with her wellbeing. She brushed River’s curls back and gave her a reassuring smile, something much softer than anything anyone outside of this room ever got to see. “We keep a close eye on her. When she has led us to the Doctor, and her disloyalty is proven, we can get rid of her.“ The Emperor leaned forward and kissed her wife softly to reassure her.

“I want to be the one to kill her.“ River said after brief contemplation.

“Why does that not surprise me?“ The Emperor chuckled. “You hated her all along.“

“I like her just fine. I hate the way she’s throwing herself at you.“ River huffed looping her arms around her wife’s neck.

“As I have told you many times, you don’t have to worry about my loyalty to you.“ The Emperor winked and carried on teasingly: “Talking of… so about the Doctor?“

“Yes, well, I hope you can forgive the little indiscretion.“ River sighed though somewhat amused. Of course she had told her wife about it straight away, they didn’t keep secrets.

“Oh, I don’t blame you.“ The Emperor chuckled. She hadn’t been wild about the whole thing when River had first told her, but she knew and trusted her like no-one else. There was a bigger picture to look at and she was starting to find the whole thing quite amusing. “I would have loved to have seen her face when she realised you played her.“

“She would have kept going as well… it’s quite sad really, she must miss her…“ River mused as she tenderly brushed her wife’s hair back. “I wonder what happened to her.“

“The Doctor’s fault, no doubt.“ The Emperor huffed, she couldn’t give two hoots about the Doctor’s state of mind. “So what was it like? When you were getting it on.“ She smirked and pressed her lips to the side of her wife’s throat.

“She tried, to be fair, to come across strong.“ River chuckled leaning into her.

“Hm… like this?“ The Emperor pulled River around and urged her over to the sofa.

“Something like that…“ River grinned when she pushed her onto it with some force.

“Let me remind you of how that’s done.“ The Emperor climbed on top of her and pushed up her dress.

——

“So where do we start?“ Missy asked, a sense of excitement and hope gripping her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. They had called on the Monk and Manton and restored Missy’s tent as best as they could. Now they sat gathered around a small fire waiting for a simple soup to cook.

“We need to find out what Clara is planning.“ The Doctor clapped her hands together jumping to her feet again. She didn’t do well sitting still. She thought better on her feet.

“I have contacts at the palace still, I’ll see what I can find out.“ The Monk said. “And Doctor? Thank you.“ He smiled at her. Missy had filled them in on what had happened at the palace and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“It’s the least I could do.“ The Doctor smiled. “I’m confident Clara wouldn’t harm River, not while she needs her to blackmail me, but we need to find out where she is keeping her and we need to think up a way to get her out of there.“ She carried on.

“She’ll likely keep her close in her quarters, she wouldn’t risk moving her around the palace and anyone see her.“ The Monk observed.

“What sort of tech have you got down here?“ The Doctor asked turning to Missy, she needed to figure out what sort of resources they had. She had a few bits and bops in her coat pockets but not a whole lot. “I managed to teleport into her quarters…“

“You can’t just teleport in, there is a suppression field, it was probably cause you were inside the field already.“ Manton mused.

“Or because it was because I used the TARDIS…“ The Doctor sighed. The TARDIS was obviously far more powerful than an average teleport. One idea off the list.

“Her TARDIS?“ Missy asked surprised.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t fly her, she revolted.“ The Doctor waved it off. “But the TARDIS must be the key, somehow surely I could…“ Her thoughts were running away with her again. From the moment she had laid eyes on the TARDIS, she’d been devising theories about how she could use it to take her back to her universe. “No, park that for now. Let’s focus on the problem at hand.“ She pushed her theories away and refocused on the group in front of her. “This celebration tomorrow, what will it look like?“

“Usually she receives guests from the significant civilisations she’s conquered… , Silurians, Zygons, Sletheen… It’s a show of strength… then there is usually a parade around the city…“ Missy explained.

“Plenty of opportunity for an assassination attempt out in the open…“ Manton mused.

“The security is impeccable. Also, if she wants the Doctor to take the Emperor’s place, it can’t happen in public.“ Missy shook her head. “If people realised she’s dead, there will be an uprising. It’s her they’re scared of. That’s why Clara needs you. The people need to believe the Emperor is still around to keep the Empire together. Clara may be powerful but nowhere near what she would have to be to stand in her place, that’s why she can’t just kill her.“ Missy turned her attention to the Doctor who was listening intently. “I very much doubt she will let you go when it’s done… she’s going to want you around to maintain the role play.“

“All the more reason to not let this succeed.“ The Doctor nodded feeling determined.

“It would have to be in private, where you can then take her place. But that would involve Clara getting past the Royal Guard and River.“ Missy carried on. “I can’t believe she’s stupid enough to try this… She’s going to get herself killed. There is no way she can pull it off, no matter what she’s planning…“ She shook her head to herself.

“What’s the ideal outcome here, Doctor?“ Manton asked. “Do we help Clara Oswald kill the Emperor and then we deal with her? What does winning look like?“

“I don’t want to kill anyone.“ The Doctor said softly but it was beginning to look like that was what they would have to do. Stand by while Clara carried out her little scheme, even ensure that she succeeded… and then find a way to get rid of Clara in turn… which would proof difficult while she controlled the Quantum Shade… with her, too, killing her might be the only option.

“You can’t save everyone, Doctor…“ The Monk mused. “And some people don’t deserve saving.“

“And we don’t get to decide who lives or dies.“ The Doctor retorted firmly and locked eyes with Missy who gave her a sad smile. She understood. “And there are Amy and Rory, Yaz, Ryan, Graham… would you kill them all?“

“If that’s what it took…“ Manton said gravely.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.“ Missy interrupted. “Why don’t we focus on saving your wife for now, Doctor?“

[ivisite]

“I’m only here to establish an alibi.” for Saoirse and Bryn! :)

You always pick the ones that I really have to get creative with, but I enjoy the challenge~ 

The Thalmor agency wasn’t exactly the most comforting place in the world but if it meant getting Delphine off her back, Saoirse would happily oblige in whatever nonsense the old Breton woman spat out. In this case, she found herself waist-deep inside arguably one of the most hated places in all of skyrim. While the civil war ripped threw Skyrim's vast, snow-laden lands, the hatred for the Thalmor and it’s agency sitting a top the mountains of Haafingar was one of the few things all of Skyrim’s people could come together on, wars and empires aside.

Not at all her preferred company, she had to admit the lavish decorations tickled her fancy. While the other guests began to promptly arrive, she found herself wandering around the non-restricted areas of the agency banquet hall. She could put on airs just as well as the pompous snobs she stood among and took little in the way of effort in fitting in seamlessly. She busied herself with eyeing trinkets and vases while the party guests settled, keeping an eye on Malborn from time to time and noting where the hostess was at all times. She wanted to get in and get out and if that meant dusting the rich with faux business adventures and merchant mishaps for an hour until given the right time, she could think of worse things to be spending her time.

All of the most important and easily manipulated families of Skyrim were in attendance to the grand feast. From Battle-Born to Silver-Blood and every other posh name in the region between, the hall was packed to the brim with some of the worst people imaginable. Of all the snobs that hogged around the chance to grovel at the Elven hosts’ feet, Maven Black-Briar stood out the most. She was the first guest to strike up a conversation with the hostess, pouring out lavish compliments and gaudy quips that filled the atmosphere with a certain eccentric vibe. Maven knew she was in the company of a power greater than her own and she was smart enough to manipulate it. Filling the hostess and her guards with flowery remarks and light-hearted jokes, she found herself in a higher regard and a safer place than some of the other guests. With the hostess more than appeased by her showy signs of respect and agreeableness, Maven took to finding a seat and looking for her dates for the evening. Neither were thrilled at the proposition but didn’t have much choice when she offered them a job and sack of septims.

“Mercer, there you are.” She cooed, waltzing over to the displeased looking Breton off near a corner. He never seemed happy but in particular he seemed even more disgruntled than usual in the moment.

“With all do respect, why did we have to come?” He grumbled, his voice all ready heavy with the scent of alcohol. Maven eyed him for a moment before locking arms with him and nodding to a guest as they walked by.

“Rats belong in sewers, I might remind you.” He continued with a scowl. He hated a lot of things but in particular he hated the posh gentry types that filled the room. He wasn’t against being wealthy, no, instead he looked to them with envy. 

“Rats and sewers, business partners and parties. Funny how often the lines between those things blur together.” She cooed calmly. No one recognized Mercer, of course, but it was all for show. The more guests she had and the more dressed up she made them, the better she looked to the other guests. Her mystery entourage made people whisper and she was more than happy to tease them with bits of information. All they needed to know was that she had friends with means to an end, and whether or not they knew in what sense that was in didn’t matter. 

“Where did Brynjolf run off to? I told him to stay close.” Maven asked once the corner of the room the two were in hushed. Eyeing the room for the red head in question, her brows began to knit in concern. 

“If he was smart, he’d have found some alcohol and a nice tramp to cozy up to. This place is unbearably stiff.” Mercer groaned. Maven shot him a sharp look. He was a smart man, Mercer Frey, but even he had his limits. Posh parties aside, she only brought him along so not to worry him of his favor with her.

“With all due respect, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Why worry?” He asked, making a subtle, sour expression at a gaggle of guests across the way.

“I have an odd feeling, is all." 

———————————————————————————-

While Mercer and Maven made their way deeper into the Thalmor Embassy, nodding to guests with fake smiles and poised gestures, Brynjolf managed to sneak off from his place as the "handsome body guard" behind them. As soon as the trio made their way into the door, he was graced with his favorite scent in the world. It was faint but he recognized it right away. Breaking away from the general crowd, he made his way deeper into the non-restricted areas of the Embassy, nodding and smiling to guards and agents a like while he casually passed by. She smelled of cinnamon and burning leaves and he always mused about how befitting it was and perhaps more so now that it was known of her Dragonborn soul. Her very essence was spiced like the ale during the winter months and warm like the fire that swirled around within her.

Near the back of the embassy just at the edge of the restricted zone stood Saoirse. He claimed to know her well but it rarely held any truth. He knew very little of her and it was increasingly obvious every time she managed to break away from her Dragonborn duties to come hang around Riften. More importantly, perhaps, was that they both ended up here of all places. With a raised brow and a cocky smile, he quietly approached. 

"With that dress on you almost look the part, lass.” He whispered from over her shoulder. Sneaky and agile as she was, even he could manage to surprise her from time to time.

 His presence made Saoirse jump just slightly but she quickly regained her poise and turned to face him. An amused look fell over her face at the sight of his interest in her attire. She watched as his cocky smile softened and his eyes traced every elegant detail of her dress. Never before had he seen her in such attire and his shock made her laugh.

“Rat got your tongue, Bryn? My eyes are up here.” She cooed playfully, lifting his chin up to meet her gaze. A cocky smile soon replaced her giggling as Brynjolf cleared his throat and straightened out his own robes. He was a hard nut to crack but if anyone could do it, it was Saoirse and she took pride in the rare moments it happened.

“You almost clean up as well as I do. What brings you here?” She asked. Finished dusting himself off, he let his eyes wander back to the more crowded room nearby.

“Maven insisted Mercer and I tag along with fancy clothes on to make guests whisper. She’s not exactly one to say no to, so here we are.” He chuckled. He cleaned up very well though Saoirse would never say it, but even with his new robes on he seemed out of place. For as much money and wealth he claimed to want, he couldn’t quite match the vibes of the other stuffy wealth that strutted about.

“And You?” He asked, turning his attention back to her. His eyes were torn between admiring her in her dress and gazing into her eyes that haunted his very dreams some nights. Fresh on good terms again after the last job Delvin sent them on forced them to be, the two had to fight back the magnetism that would have them pressed together in a feverish haze. Always far too good a match for the other in more ways than one, seven years of absence left a lot to make up for.

“I’m only here to establish an alibi before I break away from the party.” She said quietly, watching the area for Thalmor guards. She trusted him enough to not worry over small details but was smart enough not to say more. He seemed to understand and changed the subject. He had a way with conversation and words that astounded even the best orators but it was a handy talent, never-the-less.

“Why don’t I escort you to the counter for a drink, lass? A woman of your stature shouldn’t be seen with the common rabble, you know.” A cheeky smile graced his lips while he held out an arm for her to clasp onto. He was a handsome man and Saoirse couldn’t help but smile at the sight, taking the gesture and walking with him back into the other room. 

“I suppose birds of a feather flock together, hm?” She said quietly as they walked, nodding to the hostess again when they passed. 

“Rats in wigs could still get into a Tavern on half price ale night, aye, I suppose.” He chortled. 

The two shared a small laugh and caught themselves staring at one another quick enough to avoid flushing with color. Malborn, the barkeep, raised a brow at the sight but instead focused on the task at hand

“If you have expensive taste in wine, madam, I can check the back whenever you’re ready to try some.” He said once Saoirse was close enough. She gave him a slight nod and cleared her throat. 

“Bryn, I have a favor to ask." 

"Hm? What is it, Saoirse?”

“I need you cause a distraction….”

—— 

Ask [ Prompts ]

[laur-rants]

Fic Update – Wolfbann

Chapter 9 - With Golden Cats and Fevered Dogs

Fandom: Dishonored Ship: Corvo/Daud, Past Jessamine/Corvo Rated: Mature Chapter Synopsis: Emily, Emily, wherefore art thou Emily?

AO3 Link

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The Golden Cat has the worst kind of smell clinging to it. It looked clean and proper, but the truth of it hung heavy in the day’s humidity like a poisonous cloud waiting to fall. It smelled of sickness and disinfectant, it smelled of the poor and the corrupted rich, of festering wounds and broken minds and heavy hearts. Corvo was glad for the mask he wore as he quickly scaled the outer wall; it kept the overpowering scent of the brothel’s perfumed air out, and kept the curl of his lip hidden in.

Despite the plague, the Golden Cat defied all business logic by staying open. The property remained heavily protected by the dangerous Walls of Light and was filled with guards ready to usher out anyone showing even the faintest sign of a cough. The decadence of the nobles kept numbers in the green, and meant the place was busy enough that no eyes spared a glance for Corvo; he slipped in easily, a whisper on the wind that the courtesans and their clients paid little attention to. Corvo didn't ignore them, however; every conversation was vital information in a place where nobles gathered and gossiped. He hid himself around corners and above doorways, cataloging the stories revealed to him.

“Are you sure you only have Claire available tomorrow? Then I'm not sure if I can. There's been rumor she has a cough and I just can't afford to take that chance…”

“How much longer on this shift do we have? I was hoping to grab some whiskey and cigars before the downpour started, but…”

“Did you hear about what happened last night at Holger Square? If you didn't, the Courier is sure to run a piece on it soon. Either way, I don't think Campbell will be visiting any time this month…”

“Has the Madame given you today's schedule? Can you switch with me? This man, I just- he always hits too hard and I just- I can't, not this time…”

“Don’t lie to me, Officer! My brothers have been missing for over a week! Yet you're telling me you saw them just yesterday? The Pendleton twins are unmistakable, and none of the girls here have seen them recently, so once I find out who paid you to keep quiet, you'll have my lawyer to answer to!”

Corvo shifted in the shadows as the stiff and irritated form of the youngest Pendleton heir interrogated an equally agitated City Guard. He fidgeted, feeling his own annoyances grow. This brothel held many secrets and stories, sure, but did any of them matter to him? The increasing consensus so far was no, and that did nothing but bother him even further. His skin itched and his teeth gnashed and he pulled at the Void just to give his mind something to do.

He moved from room to room, trying to refocus on why he was here in the first place: finding Emily and bringing her back home.

Martin didn't say it so directly, but there was a chance that Emily was here, dropped off by Burrows in a plea to be rid of a loose end. Corvo could see the logic behind such a decision; killing Emily causes more issues than it solves, and conveniently “losing” her means she can be heroically “found" by Burrows later, cementing his spot in power. And if she isn't found, she can be forgotten, another lost daughter amongst all the others.

At least, that was the prevailing theory. It was sound enough that Corvo wasted no time in getting here and commencing his feverish search. But the more he looked, the less he found and the more he feared he was on a wild goose chase.

That fear was slowly morphing anxiety and anger. He crawled and smoked through the rafters, trying to quiet the growl threatening to bubble up and out of his throat. As much as he ached to change, it would do no good to make a scene in a place like this.

Though, if Corvo was honest with himself, a man turning into a giant wolf might actually be the kind of distraction a place like this would enjoy and undoubtedly look forward to.

He curled a lip down at the vivacious and inebriated guests and decided it best to simply move on and leave them to their strange sexual fantasies. Instead, he spied a pair of women making their way back to the powder rooms, and decided the back rooms would be quieter and less fervent than the main areas. He swept his eyes over the before smoking in after them, just as the door shut and locked behind him.

“All these folks are comin’ in like the rain; hard, fast, and far too wet,” the one complained to her friend once they were out of earshot of the patrons. Corvo flattened himself into a stall, holding his breath as he listened to the conversation. Through the Void pulled over his eyes he watched as the other scoffed out an agreement, moving to adjust her revealing outfit.

“At least we'll get paid double for our time,” the girl commented, “what with the plague and the weather, we'll all need it.”

“What? Madame Prudence said nothing to me about this!” The first complained, pulling out a bag from a locker down the ways. She brandished it at her co-worker, “She still owes me for having to deal with that noble who thought it right to smack my face. Sure, he was kicked out, but…”

“You should take it up with her then,” the friend huffed out, changing her top. “But she told me I'd get double pay, at least. And she should have the money, most of it comes from those Pendleton's, after all.”

“And did you hear the twins went missin’?”

The other girl paused.

“No? I mean, I coulda sworn I saw them just yesterday, but maybe it was their brother…”

They moved on to a different room; Corvo let them go, brain turning. It was the second time he had heard of the missing Pendletons, and of the Madame, who seemed to manage the girls. He didn't much care about the twins -- he ’s sure he threw one of them out of the Tower for insulting Jessamine -- but the Madame could be of some help. If anyone would know if Emily was here or not, it’d be her.

One stretch of the senses and stairwell climb later, Corvo found himself hovering outside the office door to the owner of the Golden Cat. His senses told him the Madame was on the other side, deep in a heated intercom conversation.

As he stood and weighed his options in the hallway, a soft, rhythmic thump from his inner coat pocket whispered it's own opinions to him.

The Golden Cat was here long before Madame Prudence found it, the Heart privately told him, but the curtains were her idea.

“An eclectic sense of taste,” he murmured back, head tilting as he watched the glowing body of the Madame end the conversation, tutting back to her duties. He waited a beat before smoothly raising a fist and rapping his knuckles against the door.

The Madame was halfway around her desk when she paused. Corvo watched through the Void as she wiped down her coat and vest, straightened her furred shawl, and stalked over. Corvo stepped out of her field of vision as she opened the door, waiting until she cleared the threshold before pulling a clawed hand down, bringing reality to a stop along with it.

The magic smoked from his burning hand as the world greyed around him, leaving all but himself suspended in time. Casually, he pocketed his hands and strode into the room past the annoyed form of Madame Prudence, noting her heavy makeup and beehive hair. His nose curled in anticipation of the heavy perfume her office undoubtedly reeked of.

He leaned against her desk and with a sigh, let his glowing mark fade to black as time resumed again.

It wasn't but another moment before a mumbling Madame turned back to her room, closed the door, and winced at the sight of Corvo, with his deep hood and gnarly mask. However, if she was afraid she didn't show it, but she did place a hand to her chest, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“If you're here for my theatrics play, there are easier ways to get my attention, you know!”

Corvo's head cocked. His nose twitched; the office was not only perfumed but also heavy with drugged hookah smoke. His lip curled in disdain; not even a dunk in the sewers was going to get this stench out of his jacket.

“Apologies for the intrusion, Madame,” he rasped out, throat burning against the laced atmosphere. “But I'm not here to be part of the cabaret.”

He remained casual: she remained irritated.

“Then what are you here for?” She sniffed out, straightening her back. “If you aren't here by appointment, then excuse me, for the safety of my courtesans I must alert the guards to have you escorted-”

She moved to the knob. Before she could turn the door open he was there, one hand over hers and another gripping her throat to the wood of the door.

And there it was, the faintest sliver of fear. His grin slipped into place. Perhaps now he could finally get her to take him seriously.

“I don't think you want to do that, Madame,” he growled out, low and soft. “We can do this the easy way, but bringing in the guards will make this exponentially harder for both of us. Besides, causing that sort of scene is…” he adjusted his grip and tilted his head. “Bad for business.”

Even so threateningly close, Prudence managed to scowl up at Corvo, sniffing at his mangled metal mask.

“Is the best you can do? You come into my property, sneak past my guards, and can't even threaten me properly?”

Corvo stilled. Prudence scoffed.

“You haven't even told me what you want, boy. And do you have to be so close? You smell like a wet dog.”

Corvo removed the Madame's hand from the handle, putting his body between her and her only method of escape. He watched her carefully, undeterred by this old woman's lack of self-preservation.

“I'm looking for a girl. I was tipped off that she is here, in hiding.”

Prudence fixed her shawl and looked him over.

“There are a lot of girls here, if you hadn't noticed. Be more specific.”

Corvo rumbled out a growl, one clearly inhuman and tired of this business. Prudence stilled, eyeing him critically.

“Don't play dumb. The girl would be young, near ten. Royal blood. Probably asking for her mother… or the Royal Protector. I'm sure someone with two coins to rub would gladly pay out the nose to hide her here and keep her quiet.”

The Madame narrowed her eyes.

“You think I'm holding the late Empress’s daughter here? Do you think I have a death wish?” She scoffed out a laugh and paced, casual. “Well, truth be told, I didn't even get the offer. Not with those Pendleton's conveniently going missing.”

Corvo shifted, crossing his arms.

“What do they have to do with anything?”

“Outsider’s ass, you were the Royal Protector, weren't you? You can't hide from me, boy,” she laughed, before adding, “the Pendleton's own silver mines. Their wealth comes from them, they paid half the nobles here in Dunwall and perhaps even Gristol. They were among my best customers, even if they are rough with some of the girls…”

“Whom you should treat better,” Corvo muttered out. Prudence's eyes flashed dangerously.

“Those girls are mine, and I will handle them as I please!” She snarled back, but Corvo just rumbled out another warning himself, and they went back to their standoff. “I won't have some dog telling me how to care for my own property…”

“Get to the point,” Corvo stated threateningly, “so that I can leave you to find the Empress's daughter.”

“The point is that the rumor from the girls is that the Pendleton's were supposed to have her, but they never got their hands in her.”

“What?”

“It was quite the point of contention, one they complained about constantly. And then, they up and vanished.” Madame shrugged. “Must've been too loud, those idiots. And now I'm out my wealthiest customers and instead have to deal with their nagging brother.”

“Where were they last seen?”

“Outside the Distillery District,” the Madame said. She went over to her desk, pulled out a long cigarette and readied to light it. “But the Bottle Street Gang rules those alleyways. My girls aren't allowed there, so you'll have to go there yourself to look for any more clues.”

Corvo straightened up off the door.

“Thank you for the information. However, I need assurance you won't speak of this.”

Prudence lifted a drawn-on eyebrow, pulling a drag from the cigarette.

“Didn't we already discuss the fact that you being here and making a scene is bad for my business? The back door is to the right and down the stairs. Now get out of here before I change my-”

Prudence blinked, and looked around. The masked man was gone, and she was standing alone in her office. Huffing out a ring of smoke, she carefully checked under the desk, in the closet, around the hookah. All the most likely (and unlikely) places for a killer to hide. Nothing.

Five minutes passed. She sat down, contemplating as she smoked her cigarette. Finally, assured privacy, she reached out once again for the intercom switch.

A black, clawed, hand grabbed her wrist, holding it tight. She gasped, throat catching as the hand smoked and burned, and a low rumble emanated out from the mask glowering down at her.

“I mean it, Madame,” the destroyed voice told her, as the light caught on the glass lenses of the mask’s eyes. “Not a word.”

Her blood ran cold as she nodded. He nodded back and as fast as he had reappeared the figure fled again, leaving no trace behind.

For once, Madame Prudence decided to live up to her own name and chose to not speak of her meeting with Corvo Attano to anyone, ever.

------

There were worse jobs to be assigned to than scouting. There were more boring jobs to be assigned to than scouting. Like laundry. Or patrolling. Patrol duty was always assured to be a long shift filled with nothing but the smells of rats and whale oil and not much else to look forward to.

But if Connor was being honest with himself as he flitted from rooftop to rooftop over the Distillery District, scouting was still at the bottom of the 'exciting jobs’ list. Common folk probably saw assassin work as mysterious and interesting when in truth it was a lot of waiting and watching and doing next to bloody nothing in-between.

Connor also knows, in the back of his mind, that Daud only sent him out to give him something to do. Not that much needed to be done; the area simply had to be routinely watched. Devon and Kieron already dealt with Slackjaw and the Pendleton twins a while back, so his presence was more for quality assurance. His job was to listen and make sure nobody was asking the wrong questions or following up investigative leads.

And of course, Connor just needed to get out of the base one more time before the rain hit. After the seasonal deluge started, nobody would want to go out or do anything, himself included. Best to get the stir-crazy out of his bones now-- but with the rain threatening already, not even being dry was a guarantee on this particular mission.

“It's not that bad,” a soft voice offered in his ear, but he shrugged the contact away. As much as Connor enjoyed having the mental connection to his brother, he also didn't need to hear his twins’ soft admonishments from where Thomas waited back at base. Why Daud hadn't sent them both out was beyond him, but Connor supposed this was an easy enough job for one. It didn't require both of them just to make sure there weren't any more leads looking into the Pendleton's disappearance.

With a flurry of ash, Connor landed and hunkered down on a low rooftop across from the Distillery where Slackjaw kept his offices. He rested his head back against the nearest chimney and let his senses extend. Even through the muffled sound and reduced visibility of his heavy whaler mask, he could hear and see every passerby with the help of the Void. Daud had gifted him and his brother with plenty of abilities, including ones that made an endlessly boring job slightly more bearable. Connor turned his head, his eyes silently following the route of a guard, the sad lurching of a plague victim, the gamblings of the Bottle Street Gang.

It was shaping up to be a quiet shift.

All the better to eavesdrop with.

A flash from the sky caught in his peripheral for just an instant. Connor instinctively inhaled, tilted his head and counted the seconds.

Three beats later, the rumble came. Connor shifted and cursed to himself; the rain closer than calculated. The clouds didn't look any friendlier, either. Perhaps he'd be getting water-logged after all.

“As if we need another wet dog here,” Thomas mused, his presence brushing against Connor's mind once again. Connor frowned; as much as the Bond kept them connected no matter how theoretically far apart they were, sometimes he could do without his brother’s casual observations of his missions. Sure, their stronger mental link meant better recon back to Daud but still, privacy and silence would be nice sometimes.

“This is just payback for when you wouldn't leave me alone when I was stationed at the Boyles Estate,” his brother told him, the smirk coloring every thought that washed softly over Connor's mind. “You wouldn't stop asking me for better angles on Lady Boyle, if I remember correctly. I swear your voyeurism knows no bounds.”

“Alright, alright fair,” Connor eventually relented, and Thomas's smug triumph filled his mind, mixing with Connor's own irritations. “Just let me do this in peace, I'd like to try and make it back before nightfall.”

“Well before I go; Emily sends her regards.”

Connor swallowed. Thomas withdrew from his mind, the silence left behind a tangible thing. He clenched his fist, doubling his interest in the Dunwall citizens below to occupy the space left behind. He tried but failed to stop the mental image of Emily Kaldwin, back at the base and sending her love, probably hopping around Thomas as he relayed what Connor was doing and-

He ground his teeth down, biting at his tongue. They really shouldn't be so attached. It was all too dangerous. She was the Empress’s daughter. She was slated to rule one day. They didn't need to sleep cuddled up with her, or let her borrow their masks, or let her pet them or-

He took a deep breath. It was dangerous. He knew it; The Whalers all knew it. Daud probably knew it too, with how fidgety he’d become as of late. And yet, there was something about her, something that drew the wolves to her like flies to --

“Did you see that? Up there.”

Connor stiffened, the confused growl rumbling out of him unbidden. Instinctively, he clenched his fist; in a rush of ash he leapt 20 meters away, safely out of the sightlines below. He took a steadying breath; no way they had seen him, but something had made his hackles rise, had made him second guess himself.

And then it hit him.

The wind shifted and the scent of another filled his nostrils. Connor stilled and forced his body low. There was another wolf here, and it wasn't Daud, or another Whaler. He knew all of their scents by heart, like knowing a relative's face.

So who…

Movement by the distillery had Connor freezing in place, his limbs rooting him to the spot. By the door he witnessed the flash of light and smoke beforr a tall hooded figure appeared out of nowhere, spooking the nearby guard.

The figure looked around. A metal mask glinted in the remaining light.

Before their gazes could meet Connor was moving, already transversing to a new rooftop, one closer to the old brewery. His heart hammered in his chest as he crouched low, doing his best to hug the wall.

His distress didn't go unnoticed.

“Connor?” Thomas tentatively offered, mind brushing against his. He took a shaky breath but didn't respond. First, he needed to see what in the Void was going on. Conversation floated up to his position and he strained his ears, listening.

“Hmph. One of you dogs, again, huh? What you want?”

“I'm not one of those…” there was a pause, like the broken voice behind that mask had to take time to collect itself. “You were expecting me?”

“Slackjaw ain’t dumb. He always knows you lot come back for check-ups. Come on.”

A door unlocked, opened, then closed. Connor peeked over his hiding spot, breath heavy on the exhale. He looked down: the party had moved indoors. His attentions immediately turned the roof of the distillery, looking for cracked windows, bad ventilation shafts, or shoddy roof tiles.

“Connor , ” Thomas tried again, as Connor clenched a fist and let his body slip inside through a loose window. “Connor, who was that? What's going on?”

“I may have stumbled on someone, or someone stumbled on me,” he fed back to Thomas as quickly as possible. “Don't tell Daud, not yet.”

“Don't tell-- Connor are you insane?!”

But Connor didn't give his twin the benefit of a response. He ignored the surge of phantom anger and annoyance and instead hugged the rafters, squeezing through pipes and over wood to follow that hooded figure inside.

The interior of the distillery was hot, even in the large, open air space housing the huge fermentation vats. He transversed from shadow to shadow, keeping his body as high up as possible, doing his best to follow the voices leading him further into the brewery building.

“You look a little lost. Surprised that ol’ Slackjaw knew you were coming?”

Connor slipped around, claws growing from smoking gloves to grip at wood barrels. He caught the scent of the other -- the Turned wolf he was sure was Corvo Attano -- and he stilled in instinctive apprehension. With a tilt of his head and a wave of his hand, Connor watched their conversation through the Void.

“I don't care about that,” that raspy, broken voice said. “I just want to find Emily. To that end, I was pointed in your direction.”

Connor swallowed; there was a snap of teeth on the edge of those words that not even the Royal Protector’s mask could hide. How much control did he even have? Connor shifted uneasily at the possibility that it was less than expected. Fighting a feral, newly turned whale-wolf wasn't his idea of a good time.

But at least it wasn't boring.

“You were sent to me? ” Slackjaw asked, feigning surprise. “Why? I don't have the girl, and if I did I probably would have sold her for a pretty penny.”

The hooded silhouette of Corvo Attano shifted, fist clenching. The growl rolling off him was palpable.

“I went to the Golden Cat looking for Jessamine's daughter-”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And heard the Pendleton's had mentioned her-”

“Oh?”

“And now they are missing, and they were last seen in the Distillery District.”

“That so.”

Slackjaw didn't seem perturbed by Corvo in the slightest, but that didn't surprise Connor. Slackjaw dealt with worse than an agitated Royal Protector on a daily basis. Connor had seen his previous business negotiations with Daud -- that was truly terrifying.

Slackjaw coolly paced the office, picking a knife up and spinning it on the tip of a finger before sheathing it at his side.

“You best be careful where you're sticking your nose, Lord Protector, or you're gonna get yourself burned.”

“I'm not a Protector without someone to protect,” he snarled, hands flexing. “And I need to find her first. Either you help me, or you get out of my way.”

“That what you told the High Overseer, before he shat himself?”

Corvo shifted. Slackjaw laughed.

“Listen here, Corvo, this area is my business. And I have good friends in this business . You can be one of my good friends! I just need something in return.”

Not a beat passed before a heavy purse hit the wood table between them. Even Slackjaw appeared surprised; he looked from the purse to Corvo before slowly reaching down and grabbing the coin.

“Courtesy of the Golden Cat.”

“My my, I didn't know our fancy Royal Protector was a thief at heart.” Slackjaw rubbed a hand over his moustache before reaching in the purse and checking the coin. “So. My Lord. What would you like to know?”

“Where is Emily?”

Connor shifted as the cold dread of guilt flooded his system. Slackjaw, however, held no such feelings as he openly shrugged in front of Corvo.

“No idea, and that's the damned truth. But I do know the Pendleton's were talking about the Empress's daughter, and I know what happened to 'em as a result.”

“And?”

“Had a guy come through a few weeks back,” Slackjaw concluded, counting a few of the coins in the purse. “Was paying to have anyone talking about the Empress taken care of, and I knew some powerful people who were flapping their jaws.” He grinned, pocketing the money. “It benefited us both to have those mouthy twins removed from the picture.”

“Do you know who he was? The man who paid you?”

“Oh that assassin, who has all his little masked followers.” Slackjaw eyed Corvo carefully. ”You're not with him? That Daud fella?”

“He is not working with me,” Corvo snarled out, and the rage was so intense, Connor felt himself slink back. Even Slackjaw brought his palms up, looking for peace.

“Don't shoot the messenger, friend. I just know what you are, and what he is. I've seen his rooftop dogs, he can't fool ol’ Slackjaw.”

Heart thudding in his ears, Connor worked out of his hiding spot as discreetly as possible. He'd overstayed his welcome already, but if he didn't get back to Daud with this soon...

Connor's foot kicked. The pressure valve burst. Slackjaw yelled. Corvo's head jerked.

Connor clenched his fist, using the cover of the steam to transverse up and away through the rafters. He prayed that Corvo didn't notice him, hoped he could use this as a clean get-away.

The window he crawled in through was still open. He scrabbled through it, claws scratching on the glass, feeling the wind catch angrily against his mask and jacket as soon as he was free of the building. Connor looked skyward; the clouds were dark and angry and ready to drop.

“Thomas,” Connor sputtered out loud. Instantly his brother brushed against his consciousness, questioning. “Thomas, there's been a complication.”

“What's going on?”

“It's Corvo,” he told his twin. His gloved hand closed, the Void propelling him to a different rooftop. “He knows Slackjaw was paid off, he knows Daud paid him off-”

A crack of lightning. Connor turned his head from the too-bright flash. When he looked back, a figure stood in front of him, blocking his path.

Connor froze.

“Don't tell Daud yet,” Connor frantically relayed as the thunder crashed and reverberated in his chest. “I'm going to handle this.”

“Damnit, Connor!” Thomas shot back, worry lacing his anger, but Connor didn't respond, couldn't respond, not with that mask keyed on him, watching his every move.

Connor tensed. Neither of them moved. He knew he'd been spotted, but now it was a battle to see who would break first, who would give chase. They were both predators, in their own ways. They didn't flee or fear easily.

But this… this was different.

Connor knew he would have to run. He shared Daud's powers, yes -- he could transform, manipulate space, see through walls. But he was still just a bonded wolf, using borrowed magic. Corvo was… he was something much greater and far more dangerous than that.

Another flash. Corvo vanished.

Connor jumped through the Void as fast as the magic in his veins allowed. He felt more than heard the arcane power crackle in the air behind him, hanging amongst the ozone and electricity of the coming storm. His hair raised; his head ducked.

Those long black claws sliced right where his scalp had been.

Connor spun, twisting around to bring his blade up to parry the next swipe. Corvo's claws clashed loudly against the steel and Connor caught the glint of the mask, that laughing metal face, and felt the anger hiding just behind it.

Spirits, Corvo was going to kill him.

He pushed the blade up and side-stepped the next attack, but Corvo was faster than anticipated. He clipped Connor-- just for Connor to dissolve into ash. The Royal Protector's claws slashed through air and he snarled, taking no time to temper the growing ferocity of his voice and body.

“Coward,” he rasped out, looking for Connor even as the assassin reappeared silently behind Corvo. He bent low and kicked out his legs and then immediately blinked away again before Corvo fell on him. He then leapt off, trying to gain distance before Corvo gathered himself up and gave chase.

“I don't know how much control he has,” Connor shot across to Thomas, reigniting their connection. “I don't know-”

“How bad is it?” Thomas asked, sharp and clinical. “Can you transform and get away?”

Connor heard an angry roar from somewhere on the other side of the rooftop and cursed. Against his better judgement, he looked back; Corvo was blinking in and out, a blur of smoke and fur, that was quickly gaining on him.

“I can't. If I lead him back to the Flooded District-”

“Isn't that what Daud wants?”

“He'll kill everyone, Thomas! Not an option!”

“Okay, if he's that much of a danger then I'll tell Daud and-”

“No! No, I’ll deal with this. I'll send him on a wild goose chase then report back when the coast is clear.”

“Connor…”

It was stupid. Well, not stupid, but it was reckless. And it definitely wasn't boring. Might even be fun.

A terrifying, semi-feral bit of fun.

Outsider's ass, he needed to get out more often.

Connor breathed, then blinked right into Corvo's line of sight. The man -- if he could even be called that -- turned, zeroing in on his movement. Corvo's body was wavering at the edges; limbs too long, back too hunched, focus too tight.

Connor readied himself. He'd have to move faster than he ever had before. Under his own mask, he felt himself smirk.

“Please, don't get yourself killed,” Thomas pleaded.

“No promises.”

Connor's fist clenched and he was off, speeding over the rooftops. Corvo fell for it; like a carrot on a stick he leapt after Connor, chasing him across the skyline as another flash of lightning lanced by. Corvo was fast, but Connor knew the area better. He jumped diagonally, making his movements erratic. And while it worked for a time, it wasn't enough. Like a spear Corvo’s aim was straight and true. He crashed into a rooftop next to Connor, launching himself straight at him, claws raised, snarling-

Leaving Connor to blink away just in time.

The howl Corvo let out was screeching, like a dying whale. Connor's body stumbled against the power of it, instinct overruling his self-preservation. His knee hit the rooftop, hard: less than a beat later he's thrown, the wind knocked out of him, his mask smashing the tiles with a painful crack. He can smell Corvo, can hear the deep rumbles, can feel his claws sink into the lapels of Connor's coat jacket as he’s dragged up just to be smashed down again.

“Where is he?”

Connor didn't need to ask who Corvo meant, not when those angry daggers were digging into his coat, threatening permanent damage. Despite imminent death, Connor didn't respond, keeping his mouth closed, thanking the Void that his mask hid any and all emotion. Corvo waited, but as no answer came his patience waned. He threw Connor into the roofside again, snarling, the heat of his power coming off in waves.

Then a mind slammed into Connor's, angry and vicious and wild.

“WHERE IS HE?”

Connor gasped, his breath catching and his body shrinking away. Corvo threatened to mentally suffocate him, throwing all of the weight of his turmoil straight at Connor. Instinctively Connor’s mind retaliated, shoving against the pain and the emotion, frantically doing whatever he could to get Corvo out, out!

Corvo stilled and his mind retreated so fast it left Connor light-headed. The grip on his jacket lessened, the magic smoking off of Corvo's arms. Connor eyed him carefully; the hooded, masked man before him shuddered, his body cracking.

“What was that?” Corvo gasped out, as if his teeth were remembering how to talk. Connor said nothing, too stunned to move.

Oh Void, Connor realized, he's never-

Corvo himself was no longer paying Connor any attention. The man himself was falling apart; every now and then Connor would feel the distress of his mind brush against his, but even the softest push against Corvo's thoughts sent him wincing back, the foreign sensation too much for his mind.

And yet, Corvo couldn't control it. The contact felt terrified, angry, tentative , as if Corvo was realizing he yearned for the mental contact but didn't know what it was, or how it was happening. Which was possible, right? Connor didn't really know, his mind had been linked to Thomas -- to Daud -- for so long that-

Corvo vanished.

Connor gaped.

His head was clear; the distress of the Royal Protector completely gone. He sat up, looking around furiously. A quick inhale told him Corvo really was gone, as if he teleported -- or, more likely, stopped time--

“Connor.” The new voice boomed across the Bond, it's clarity and familiarity overwhelming. “Get back here. Now.”

“But sir, Corvo-”

“Left,” Daud told him, the irritation and acidity of his thoughts laced with relief. “And you're relieved of duty for tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” Connor replied, head bowing even without Daud there to see it. He stood up and called to the Void; fur flowed out, bones popped and senses sharpened as he leapt from the rooftop, four legs propelling him fast than two. His wolf body moving on residual adrenaline, beelining for the Flooded District.

“I told you not to tell Daud,” he shot angrily to Thomas, though he added the cool tones of reassurance as their thoughts touched.

“And I told you not to get yourself killed,” Thomas retorted back.

"And I didn't,” he stated, matter-of-factly. Around his paws, fat drops of water began to appear, signalling the coming rain. They were both quiet; Connor was tired, Thomas was upset. It wasn't until he had made it halfway back to the Flooded District that he finally asked what neither of them wanted to bring up.

“Perhaps we don't tell Emily?”

“Yes,” Thomas resigned, sounding defeated. “I agree. Let's not tell Emily.”

[marybeatriceofmodena]

chance may crown me - a story for the 2017 reylo fanfiction anthology: celebrate the waking

chapter I (AO3/Tumblr) | chapter II | chapter III | chapter IV | chapter V | chapter VI | chapter VII | chapter VIII

“Got it!” Rey whispered with a note of triumph.

Finn grimaced as she spoke. “Quiet! If someone else hears us, they might claim the place for their own.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “You always worry too much, Finn. It’s the evening. No one comes near this spot. All the scavengers are lining up at Plutt’s, and anyone who’s got any credits is having supper.”

“Yep, and I don’t want to eat prison food for the next ten years. I heard it’s even worse than the portions. Let’s go.”

Rey snorted as she slipped the pearl necklace in her bag, grabbing her staff. “ Nothing is worse than portions, Finn. If what they serve in prisons is worse, then it’s got to be bantha poodoo.”

Finn wrinkled his nose. “Great way to cut my appetite, Rey.”

“Oh, come on,” chuckled Rey. “I’ve heard your stomach growl ever since we got here. I’m pretty sure it made more noise than I did.”

They headed out of the jewelry shop’s basement or, as they liked to call it, their “scavenging spot,” using the underground tunnel Rey had discovered a few weeks earlier. They travelled through a maze of sewers, where someone less experienced would have lost themselves, but not the two of them, and especially not when Finn was working on a map of the city’s underground as a useful pastime.

Rey blinked as her eyes saw the light again. It wasn’t too blinding, of course; it was twilight, and the upper atmosphere of Naboo displayed shades of pink and orange. It was her favorite time of the day, as the sky reminded her of the fine silks noble ladies would wear on special occasions, the fading clouds reminiscent of the soft texture.

Unlike other people living in the undercity, Rey and Finn could still see the sky from their home. It was one of the reasons why Rey found it hard to complain about the rusty AT-AT where they lived. As she slipped inside, right behind Finn, and they sat beside each other as they always did, she couldn’t help but pick up the pearl necklace from her bag and wave it around, marveling at the many colors the remaining rays of light coming through the AT-AT’s small window gave the pearls.

“Can we keep this one?” she asked.

“Why? What will we even do with it?” Finn chuckled. “If an officer catches you wearing that, you’re done. And anyway, we’re out of portions. We can’t afford keeping that, especially if you’re just going to use it to look at it all day.”

Rey frowned. “I wouldn’t! I’d use it to… to…” Finn tilted his head with a small smirk, while Rey scowled at him. “Fine,” she grumbled. “You take care of the exchange with Plutt. I don’t want to do it. It’s too pretty.”

“Deal,” replied Finn, shrugging. “Anyway, at this hour, the line at Plutt’s must be smaller. I think we can go. You think you can hold up until then? I may have leftovers from yesterday—”

“Finn, I’m fine. You’re the one who’s hungry.”

“Me? Nah. You, on the other hand—”

“Finn, just because I got sick last spring doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a little doll all the time. It’ll take us an hour at most to get to Plutt’s, do the trade, and come back. But you need to take care of yourself.”

Sighing deeply, Finn retrieved a chunk of hard bread from his bag, biting off a piece with some difficulty. “Don’t make me regret this,” he said, his mouth full. Rey’s only response was to hug him with a chuckle. Finn could only smile. It was hard to refuse Rey anything.

As soon as Finn was done eating, they headed out into the night. The undercity was barely lit, but Rey and Finn were used to it, having experienced it since childhood.

Finn still remembered the frightened ten-year-old little boy he’d been when he had run away from the orphanage. Rey had been in the street for a year already, still waiting for her parents, but a feisty little slip of a girl at the young age of six years old, earning her meager living by pickpocketing. They hadn’t left each other since.

Thirteen years later, as they made their way to one of Unkar Plutt’s warehouses, Rey still held his hand in the barely lit city, just like she did when they were children to make sure he wouldn’t be scared. Finn hadn’t been afraid of the dark for ages, but the habit had remained.

The undercity of Theed was as busy during the night as it was during the day. Rey and Finn were so used to the noise, however, that they barely noticed it.

On the other hand, any unusual noises or happenings rarely escaped their notice.

A droid beeping in distress caught Rey’s attention. Tugging at Finn’s sleeve, she then let go of his hand and ran straight towards the noise.

It was Teedo, another scavenger that had given them trouble more than once. He had caught a droid in his net, unlike any Rey had seen before. It was small, and probably belonged to some Naboo noble as a companion. Its round shape, however, was unfamiliar to her, and yet she couldn’t shake away the feeling she had seen it before.

In another time, she would have let Teedo with his prey so he could take it to Plutt and exchange it for portions, and perhaps even credits. It wasn’t the first time a droid, often malfunctioning, had wandered in the undercity and been caught by scavengers. But this time…

For some reason which Rey couldn’t quite put her finger on, she couldn’t let Teedo take this droid away.

“Let him go!” she yelled, ignoring Finn running after her and pulling her arm. Teedo cursed at her in his language, but Rey didn’t move an inch, standing straight, her hands clutching her staff in case she would have to defend herself. When Teedo shook his head, and got back to work, attempting to turn off the droid while it was still trying to free itself from the net, Rey took a few steps forward, brandishing her staff to intimidate him. Teedo mumbled less than flattering names to Rey before turning his back and running away. He was already familiar with Rey’s fighting, and wasn’t exactly eager to experience it again.

“Well, that was easy,” mumbled Finn. “What are we gonna do? He might come back with some of his buddies.”

“We’ll have to hurry, then,” shrugged Rey. “Help me with the net, please?”

The droid was thankfully unharmed, apart from a bent antenna. When Finn reached for it, attempting to set it straight again, the droid immediately pointed out a stun ray, zapping Finn.

“Ouch!” he yelled. “Great way of thanking me after I rescued you!”

“For your information, I rescued him,” replied Rey. “Let me try.”

To Finn’s great surprise, the droid became docile while Rey fixed his antenna, even beeping in happiness and purring like a kitten. “Your name is BB-8, right?” said Rey, translating for Finn what the droid was telling her. “Where do you come from?”

Rey frowned at BB-8’s reply. “What? What did he say?” asked Finn.

“He—he says he’s been programmed to accompany and obey me,” replied Rey. “There must be a mistake.”

BB-8 shook his head.

“BB-8, can you tell me who programmed you?” Rey asked. She was doing her best to hide her hands shaking.

Finn’s heart tugged a little. Even after all those years, Rey was still clinging to her parents promising her they would come back after abandoning her in the undercity. Finn knew all too well it was probably a lie to cover the fact she would never see them again. But he had never dared to tell Rey the truth. But even after all those years, wasn’t he her family? To him, Rey was his little sister by everything but blood, but there were some moments where he wondered if she also saw him as a brother.

Regardless, he would stay with her and protect her, no matter what. Even if she always claimed she didn’t need protecting.

Rey’s shoulders lowered in disappointment as BB-8 answered. “He says his programming doesn’t permit him to reveal who sent him. Finn, what are we going to do?”

Finn shrugged and tried to smile, but it was anything but convincing. “I’m pretty sure we’ll know soon enough, Rey. Droids are weird.”

An insulted BB-8 beeped in protest while Rey laughed. “That’s because you never bothered to understand them, silly,” she replied. “Let’s get going. Are you coming, BB-8?”

The droid immediately rolled to Rey’s side, purring happily. The trio started walking, but it didn’t take long for Rey to notice Finn was uneasy.

“Is there anything wrong?” she asked.

Finn tried to smile. “Nah. I just—”

Rey stopped, crossing her arms. “Don’t fool me. I know you well enough to know when you’re not okay.”

Finn swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “Rey… if you find your family—”

“What do you mean, if ?” Rey interrupted him. “I will find them!”

Finn winced. “All right, when you find your family… I mean, you won’t forget me, right?”

Rey’s eyes widened in understanding. She laughed. “I’m not going to leave you in the undercity, you idiot. You’ll come with me.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! I’ll just tell them that I wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“Well, you never told me that, Miss-Know-It-All,” teased Finn.

“Just don’t get too much of a big head with that,” scowled Rey, muffling her laugh.

Unkar Plutt was one of those noblemen who had recently gained his social status by connections, craftiness and wealth. However, he still couldn’t keep up with the lavish lifestyle he was attempting to pursue, and, like many others, he relied on undercity thugs and pickpockets to give him a bit more resources.

In exchange for whatever “goods” the scavengers brought Plutt, they received credits and food portions. Most of the time, it wasn’t even worth a quarter of what they stole, but many scavengers such as Rey and Finn had no other choice but to rely on whatever Plutt was gracious enough to provide them with in exchange for their work.

For many of the nobles, the black market was too risky, considering the previous Queen of Naboo, Soruna, had done much to destroy the system, which gained a lot of power during the Empire’s time. It made living in the lower city and undercity much safer, considering bounty hunters and other criminals didn’t run rampant anymore.

The reconstruction efforts, however, had not extended to destroying the class system the Empire had put in place: Naboo’s restoration to how it had been in the Old Republic’s times would be a long process, and some even speculated it would only be attained a hundred years after the Empire’s fall. The new Queen, Kusumina, had just been elected, and all inhabitants of Naboo hoped the situation would only get better for all of them.

 Including Unkar Plutt.

The greed in Plutt’s gaze as he noticed BB-8 entering the warehouse with Rey and Finn was far too obvious to ignore. Regardless, Rey pretended she hadn’t noticed and pulled out the pearl necklace from her bag, handing it to Plutt. He picked it up and glanced at it, with a hint of disdain.

“Krayt dragon pearls,” he muttered. “That’s worth… three portions.”

“What?” interjected Rey. “You said last week krayt dragon pearls were priceless! They’re only found on Tatooine and it’s become more and more difficult to—”

Plutt dismissively waved his hand at Rey. “For the droid, though… I’d be willing to pay a lot more. How about… sixty portions? And there will be another part of my payment for it in credits.”

Both Rey and Finn froze, looking at each other. Plutt had never been so generous.

Rey looked down at BB-8. His head was turned upwards, as if he was begging. She took a deep breath, looking one last time at Finn, who seemed to almost immediately guessing what her reply to Plutt would be. He nodded in agreement.

“Actually… the droid is not for sale,” Rey replied. “Only the pearls. And they’re worth more than that.”

Plutt scowled in anger, throwing the pearl necklace in his pocket. “Then I don’t see the point of continuing business with you. As long as you’re not willing to sell the BB unit to me, you’re fired.”

“ What? ” shouted Rey. “This isn’t fair! You have no right—”

Unkar Plutt laughed. “Oh, but I do. I know you all rely on me. Starve for a few days, and think about it. I might not make you beg too much if you come back sooner.”

“Oh no, you don’t, you son of a—” Rey grabbed her staff, ready to jump on Plutt, ignoring his thuggish bodyguards coming closer to her to defend their boss, but Finn grabbed Rey from behind.

“Hey, we’re not trying to cause trouble here, okay?” said Finn. “We’ll just… go.”

“Good call,” chuckled Plutt. Rey was still struggling as Finn dragged her towards the exit, BB-8 in tow.

“You want us to try to catch the droid, boss?” asked one of the thugs.

“No use,” replied Plutt. “They’ll be back. The girl needs a lesson. I’m sick of her snotty attitude. You’d believe she’s some long lost princess at times.”

It took a moment after they had come out of the warehouse for Finn to calm Rey down. When she finally breathed deeply, as Finn encouraged her to do, she only snapped again after a few seconds. “The dragon krayt pearls! He still has them! That kriffing bastard is going to—”

“Hey, hey, you need to calm down, okay? I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, all right? Let’s go back home.”

“But Finn! We can’t let him get away with this!”

“I know. But we’ll find a way. I—I might have an idea. But we can’t talk about it here, right? So let’s go back home, okay?”

Rey nodded, a glimmer of hope finally managing to calm her down. If there was one person who could elaborate plans, it was Finn.

The walk back to the AT-AT was silent, and as soon as they arrived, Rey sat on her makeshift bed, BB-8 standing by her side, her feet swinging back and forth as she awaited Finn’s explanation.

“All right,” he started. “It might be risky. Well, actually, it really is. But it’s really a Force send that we found BB-8.” The droid beeped in agreement, making Rey laugh. Finn couldn’t help but chuckle. “So… I thought I could ask Maz Kanata for help. She—she could provide us with a dress and a fancy headpiece or something. We could… dress you up as a noble lady.”

Rey’s eyes widened. “Wait… what do you want to do with this? I know nothing about behaving like a noble lady! And do you really think Maz could help us?”

Finn shrugged. “I’m sure she could. I mean, do you ever wonder how she got her hands on all those weapons? And how she just happens to know lightsaber forms? She never tells us why, no matter how much we ask her.”

“I try not to ask too much,” replied Rey. “She told me once that if I kept on asking questions about it, she wouldn’t let me use the lightsaber for training anymore.”

“Yeah, well, maybe she’d let me use it, instead of that vibrosword,” grumbled Finn. Rey giggled, shaking her head. “Anyway, if we do manage to get Maz’s help, I’ll give you the basics of how to pass as a lady.”

“Oh, so you’re suddenly a ladies’ expert, now?” teased Rey. Finn felt his ears heat up.

“What I meant to say is that I’ve watched a lot of them,” he continued. “How they behave, how they talk. You have a nice crisp Coruscanti accent. That’s going to help a lot. You also stand straight. That’s good too. The rest is going to be a piece of cake.”

“So, I’m going to dress up… for what? I’m just going to sneak in the upper city?”

Finn’s eyes glittered in mischief. “Well, the Festival of Light and the Queen’s wedding are coming up this week, right? Plutt’s going to be at the palace, his room will barely have any security compared to his place, and he’s going to be busy for sure.”

Rey frowned in puzzlement. “Yeah? So?”

Finn smiled. “We’re gonna rob Plutt.”

[aellesaan]

Wanderings of Mac’Aree: Part Two.

Part Three

As the two females entered the building, Danarshi listened intently to Epilvik as he described the sceptor of Archimonde in depth, issuing the Justicar with his undivided attention. As the explanation draws to an end, Danarshi, in turn, returns a nod to Epilvik in acceptance of the situation. "It is near difficult to fathom the concept of such a powerful artifact being within our very grasp. If this is where it is truly located, and this is the trial in which we must pass in order to retrieve it, then I am in utmost agreement with you, Justicar. We must try. If such a weapon harbors even the slimmest of chances to wound the Dark Titan himself, then we cannot afford to ignore it, or allow it to fall into the wrong hands." he articulated. He conclusively forms into a salute of service before the Justicar. "When you are prepared, lead the way, Justicar. I shall follow you to the ends of this place." he states, returning to a passive stance a few seconds later. Upon Epilvik's command, he would move into the tower, though he could not help but notice his eager sisters who had already started their journey into the darkened structure.

The rest of the group would undoubtedly follow as Aellesaan and Phaelastra would step inside the old building. Rhuua, Epil, and their two beasts brought up the rear, with the small burning torches on their mounts lighting the inky blackness. They revealed what would amount to be a rather large foyer, much the same as would be seen in many storefronts or perhaps a hotel and other similar places the group may have seen. If Epilvik noticed Aellesaan and Phaelastra's closeness, he didn't make comment. Either not noticing, or not thinking it important as he looked around the room, clearly the two girls seemed to be quite happy to take the position of leader in this exploration and he was more than content to letting them explore and move the group as they saw fit. "Hmm now to find a way that the curator's comments make sense in relation to where we need to go." Epilvik questioned, as it seemed there were three tunnels that went off this room, a set of staircases at the end of each could just be made out. One of the tunnels was brightly lit and clear the whole way down, one covered in inky unpenetrable darkness, and in the third a howling could be made out down it, seemingly up the stairs, but not the howling of an animal, no more like one of a harsh storm, a primal earthly howl. Around the room would be several desks, as well as a small sitting and waiting area. Likely nothing that could be of purpose, however the group was free to spread around and look, one never knew what might occur.

Akaepi cast a glance down the three tunnels in turn. As lovely as the nice, warm and light one was- yea, if this was a test then it wasn't that one. It was downright too inviting and that enough was cause for it to be the wrong answer. The second and third equally made her skin crawl but she settled at the howling corridor and outstretched a hand to test for any sort of draft or wind coming from the corridor. "Anything upon the desks?" She calls back, her hydra seeming to just lumber about behind her with an uneasy little snarl given. If putting money on their destination was at hand, she'd pick spooky corridor number three and claim her prize now.

Aellesaan sighed in relief as the dim light from the torches lit up the antechamber. Giggling to herself, she brought a bright blue flame onto her hand for her own torch. Silly girl forgetting such a simple task, she chided herself. Taking a look at the tunnels, she agreed with Akaepi. "The answer to the riddle is obviously a hurricane, or a tornado. They have an eye, but cannot see. They move fast, but have no legs." With a nod to herself, and a glance back at Phaelastra, she moved to stand in front of the entrance. "I hope you guys brought hats if there really is a storm in there. You wouldn't want your hair looking like a rat from the sewer made their home within your hair." Fiddling in her pouch, she procured a leather hat, almost like a lumber jacks hat, but with cutouts for her horns, and strings on the flaps to tie under her chin. "Perhaps we will find out if there is life after death today. I sure do love learning!"

As the dim light washed throughout the large foyer of the tower, revealing many of the eery features that were scattered about the interior, Danarshi did not, once, allow himself to be swept up in the moment. Any manner of creature, from panthara to evil spirits, could sneak up on them at any moment. He did, however, notice the three tunnels, each with a significantly differing atmosphere about them. It was true: one tunnel was too inviting, one was too mysterious, and the other was, well, something. The third did certainly line up with the riddle, however, as it did sound much like a hurricane or tornado. As the group wandered forward, a voice would've spoken from the darkness. Sardonic and biting, the gravely tones were - no doubt - startling at first as it spoke . "You lot are all standing around like a bunch of  sitting ducks." From the inky blackness Tzipor'rah would've emerged, looking fierce despite her small stature. Her tight leathers were topped with a fearsome looking helm, the kind that many Rangari wore during field work. She stood with a hand on her hip and her bow slung over her shoulder. Like the ever faithful shadow he was, Kha'ul too appeared from behind the group looking as sparkling as ever, his ethereal form towering over Tzipor'rah's as he stood by her side. "Walking directly into a storm seems like a terrible idea. Don't people usually try to avoid storms?" Kha'ul asked, raising a purple and sparkly brow. Tzipor'rah shot him a look. "In normal circumstances, but these are not normal circumstances."

As the voice of Tzipor'rah rang from the darkness, Danarshi alertly twisted his entire body in its general direction. As, however, the Draenei huntress usually makes her appearances, he immediately stood down, remaining silent. Eventually, he nears Aellesaan, and had overheard her questioning of the afterlife. The Anchorite peers towards the woman. "There is a life after death, sister, and, lest you pass on peacefully, you do not want to live it." he plainly describes. This man wasn't dead, yet, still, he knew all about it.

"I cannot say there is anything too terrible for ducks that are sat." Akaepi quipped back at Tzipor’rah with a visible roll of her eyes. One of her shoulders rolled, a huff falling from her lips and trying to play off the sharp start that her poor heart received at some stranger slinking out of the darkness. Her head shook slightly before turning to Aellesaan, "I am aware of the answer, given we have what appears to be a storm down this corridor but I would much rather not jump to conclusions without first surveying the situation first." Her hand continued to scratch at her Hydra's scalp, the beast hissed very loudly at Tzipor'ah for daring to scare him.

Aellesaan blinked at Akaepi, and turned away, feeling slightly berated. She continued to patiently stand there, her tail swinging to the beat of a song that was stuck in her head.

Once Phaelastra felt Aellesaan was safe with the others, she stepped back into the darker shadows. Her fingers stroked against her quiver of arrows; her grey-silver eyes watching the group.

Akepi's searching and looking on the desks would elicit no aid in their current task, but she would find hundreds upon hundreds of drawings, seemingly pictured of the lobby they stood in. Only the images had a murky black shape coming in it from all sides, clawed hands seemingly reaching for the dozens of individuals in the office, drawings after drawings repeating these images, the hands getting closer and closer until she would simply come across black pages. What would be most eerie though, would be the fact that the male to female ratio of the individuals in the lobby in the images, would match the group of Te'Amun, as if history was repeating itself, or, it was to come. Any further thought on this matter quickly came to an abrupt end though as both the front doors sealed shut, the light that was coming in blacking out, as an ink like look spread out over the glass, the only light left would be the torches they had with them and their magical ability.

When Aellesaan spoke the tunnel she believed to be the answer, a loud chime could be heard coming down it. The sound repeating every time another agreed with her, signifying something or reinforcing their choice perhaps. Albeit at the same time, a rough creaking could be heard from below, a rumble, the sound of cracking, breaking, smashing, almost as if the floor was crumbling away beneath them. The group would need to move sooner rather than later, did they trust their minds choice to lead them to safety?

Aellesaan quit pouting and immediately looked at the tunnel when it chimed. A smile spread across her lips as it chimed again, almost like a ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk. As the ground began shaking, she dived for the tunnel, "Well looks like the party is about to get started!" She shoulder rolled down the length of it, feeling the increasing rumble of the ground below.

The Rangari Akaepi could not help but roll her eyes. A faint grumble of 'So much for caution' rolling out from under her breath as she glanced to the others then the corridor. She didn't like this place-... She didn't like those pictures and she definitely did not like how the floor was falling away either. "We should move." She, oh so helpfully, called out. "Do not wander too far from the group nor split apart. We do not know what is in here."

For a small while, Danarshi remained in silence. Whilst his kin worked to unravel the mysteries of the foyer, he kept a steady eye trained upon their blackened surroundings - that was until the troubling sounds started to erupt from the very floor itself. Danarshi peered towards the ground beneath his hooves, his eyes widening. As Akaepi made the wisest of calls, he did not hesitate to follow her lead. "Precisely! Let us move, brothers and sisters!" he replied, beckoning the few others towards him as he ducks into the noisy tunnel.

As the group followed Akaepi and Aellesaan sprinting down the hall, any who might glance back would only see darkness. A penetrating deep darkness. One of which no light could possibly escape, so encompassing as to drown out even a glimmer of hope; the floor being eaten up step by step, whether or not just disappearing in the darkness or into the darkness was a question none of them would wish to answer. Not with the disturbing eerie groan that came from within it, almost as if it was trying to speak. A deep malevolence buried within the darkness below, the sound of scratching claws, grinding and screeching against the polished stone. The passage was only 20 or so meters long, but it felt like a mile as they bolted in mortal fear for their lives. Bounding up the stairs swiftly, rising two floors up, before they would feel safe enough to collapse panting in exhaustion, and catch their breath. It was here on this flight though that their good friend returned, the Curator. Blipping in on some sort of pedastol, obviously not there physically, but the image seemed off somehow. The construct was bathed in a blood red, flickering, wavy and garbled, its voice distorted and uneasy. It looked back and forth, and around as if it didn't want to be there even in this form. "Run run run... dont stop now... run run run.... hiding is futile .... run run run.... find what the person who buys me doesn't need me, the person who makes me doesn't want me, and the person who uses me can't appreciate me.... or perish in this place..." It said to them before blinking out. They would notice with that they were plunged into darkness, only the torches they carried and a single ceiling light remained on; there beneath it rested three objects, each of which could be opened. They however soon noticed that in the darkness it seemed to be getting wet... although they were in a building, but stranger yet, this rain that seemed to fall, didn't fall so much as rise, splattering against them as they moved. They'd soon realize if they stepped they seemed to be standing in hoof deep puddles of some kind. It was that moment the pedastol flashed back on. "You are all going to die in here." It told them clearly and menacingly before blinking back out just as quickly.

[theunwrittenman]

The Great Big “How to build a dungeon” post, Part 5.2

Accelerating the pace

 Art is Ruins with ancient tree by Sviatoslav Gerasimchuk

When I was younger I used to run sprawling games with endless encounters and meandering threads of story which could go on forever. We played until one of us dropped from exhaustion, and thanks to youthful metabolisms and energy drinks, we often ran up against the wrong side of dawn. Since hitting the later years of university however, I’ve come to realize that time is a precious and finite commodity when it comes to running games, as well as a canny editing tool.

In this part of the HTBADP we’ll be discussing ways to make the best use of your time both in and out of the dungeon, as well as ways to conceptualize your content in the most punchy and efficient way possible.

Visualizing the dungeon:

To start this off I’d like to share a bit of a revelation that came to me a few days ago: that the mental conception of the dungeon for both players and games masters is fundamentally different, and as such has us thinking about different ways. For a DM, our first conception of a dungeon is as a top down grid listing everything in a room and whatever might be hidden within. We are taught to think of the rooms like they were being built in a videogame, pre-rendered and factually restrictive.

Players however first experience the dungeon as a verbal interaction. A paragraph to be listened to and mentally skimmed over. Primarily, they experience the dungeon ( and the rest of the game) as a bit of theater. Objects and features don’t exist until their existence is stated outright, and as such, we need to abandon the practice of keeping important details a secret until the players search for them. Anything that’s important to the scene needs to be a part of the scene.

For practice, try saying aloud how you’d describe the scene like it was at your table. If you can’t describe what’s cool about a section of your dungeon out loud in a sentence or two, you won’t be able to foster that feeling in your players while you’re at the table.  Likewise, you should be using these sorts of statements to communicate with your players, rather than waiting for your players to ask questions about what’s in the room like you were the narrator in some kind of text adventure.

Since the goal is to provide people with as much fun in as short a time as possible, I’ve tried to rid myself of the “ text adventure” sort of narration that I’d grown used to. Video Games have trained me in such a way that the narrator expects input from the players, then returns their query with information like a game of verbal tennis. But as a dungeon master you are not a videogame system, you are a storyteller, and a story is a living and wild thing that your players should strive to stay atop of. Spending time on things that won’t delight your players is equivalent to visiting a gallery and staring at the space BETWEEN the paintings. 

Death to the Corridor:

As part of combatting the “text adventure” sort of narration, I’ve also stopped describing hallways for in the most part. I’ve realized that by and large much of my time narrating as a dungeon master I was doing extra work because I assumed that my players demanded an extra level of immersion, and my players never questioned it because they assumed that everything I said had purpose.

Instead I give a general example of the area they’re moving through, what the atmosphere is like as they move deeper into the dungeon,maybe how long it feels like they spent traveling through it. If there’s a persistent hazard that comes from spending a lot of time in the dungeon ( getting sick in the sewers, getting cold in the mountains), this is where I do it. This allows me to save the time, effort, and details for the points of interest the players should actually put their attention on.

For example, rather than describing each and every deserted room in a section of a  haunted manor, I can say something along the lines of “ The rooms in the east wing are long neglected, given over to cobwebs and the dust of neglect.” then if there’s points of interest within any of the rooms, I present them to the players, assuming that their characters gave the area a cursory search. In this regard I zero in on the actual content of the dungeon while maintaining the illusion that the characters are in an expansive building.

No one’s going to fault you for not filling out every square inch of your dungeon, the players care about having fun, not how much effort you’ve put into rooms they’re only going to visit once.  

Art is desert cave ruins by wwsketch

Off the railroad and Into the amusement park:

You’ll likely hear a lot about the DM’s cardinal sin, Railroading. I’ve ranted against it more than once in this series, but more often than not you’ll seldom hear people give you a good example of what you should do instead. Railroading is after all an apprentice narrator’s tool, and here I am to give you a better one.

Rather than a static series of events, an adventure can be a bit like an amusement park, offering a number of equal options for players to chose one based on the group’s preferences at the time. Presenting multiple options up front lets players decide what exactly they’re up for that night, rather than enduring something they dislike to get to the part they’ll really enjoy. A person in an amusement park has a good idea whether they want to go to the rollercoaster, the haunted house, or the waterpark next, just like your players can agree on whether they want to fight, sneak or explore for their next challenge.  

Since we already set the larger scene and identified our points of interest, we can skip right to the decision making process.

DM:“ Alright ranger, you’ve spent a good hour scouting the hills, keeping low to the scrub in order to avoid detection. Perhaps closest to your party’s camp there’s an old crumbling tower, covered with blue ivy. South along the river there’s a half flooded cave marked with orcish graffiti, and beyond the river you found the tracks of some great, three clawed beast. “

Saves a lot of time and sounds a lot more interesting than

DM: “ You have arrived in the hills, make me a perception check everyone”

Players: “ I got a 15”  

DM: “You see a tower, covered in blue ivy, do you choose to go in? “

Players: “ uh, sure, what else are we supposed to do?”

Dm: secretly broods that they’re going to spend all session fretting over the tower and completely ignore the other encounters

Remember what I said about dungeon entrances way back when? Well, I used to keep any beyond the first entrance secret from my players, but I noticed they

“ from what you can currently perceive, there are two easy ways in…” is a simple way to give the party options while subtly hinting that there are more ways.

I don’t expect my players to remember every option they didn’t take. If they seem lost, or hit a dead end, it gives me an opportunity to casually list some of the other roads they could have taken, likewise, it lets me draw attention to some options they might have missed or neglected the first time.

 Art is Risen Lissandra concept by Thomas Randby

Budgeting time:

If I know I’ve only got three or five hours before the game ends I can start budgeting the time spent. Hour and a half for big fights, half an hour for the small ones. Shopping  or leveling can take up to forty five minutes and an hour is a good time to budget for getting everyone fed/ a break in the middle.

This of course applies to dungeons. If you know you how long you have, you can budget your energy accordingly. Navigation chews up a lot of time it doesn't need to and bossfights can be tiring, so better to get them over when people are still fresh, or to have them kick up next time the group gets together to play.

If your players aren't actively conversing on which route forward to take or what would progress the situation, you should feel obliged to move them along. All players want to have fun but they’re not always comfortable taking the reigns. If someone’s thinking about the options presented to them though, I encourage you to rewind back and let them perform their bit, otherwise the show must go on.

Boil down bickering: 

I let my players go back and forth too much, and people have a tendency to overplan. Strategizing between rounds of battle which slows the pace to a crawl, arguing how to get over a shallow pit.   To combat this, I usually give them a time limit, ( about 5-10 minutes) with the understanding that if they go over this time limit some unfortunate thing is going to happen as their characters have been bickering for just as long and have likely attracted some kind of unfortunate attention. Once the players realize that there’s consequences to being overly particular about things I’ve found that they’ll move from over elaborate schemes to trying the direct approach more often than not.

Now, If the players can’t come up with something in that time don’t hit a buzzer or inform them that they have to act, just start to make things a little more difficult for them. Their lamp oil is running out, there’s sound from back down the corridor that means the body they left has been discovered by one of the patrols.

 Art is Book of Aules children by Lucas Durham

I think that’ll do us for now. I hope you’ve been enjoying it as much as I have. As always, share this around and leave your own thoughts. If you have suggestions about what I should write about next.

Till then,

Happy Delving~

[entergamingxp]

Mind Control Delete Review — Hacking the System

July 9, 2020 12:00 PM EST

Superhot is back with hacks and cores to master, and new enemies to shatter.

It’s happening again. Red polygonal people chasing you, with you breaking them open to see them bleed golden light. The system is taunting you once more, but this time, things are a lot more action-packed. New enemies, weapons, and levels achieve this very well in Superhot: Mind Control Delete.

The original game launched back in 2016, with you trawling through digital levels while refusing to adhere to orders from the “System,” killing red enemies that were hell-bent on killing you. But now there’s a new installment, this time in the form of a standalone experience that builds upon the successful gameplay from the original. Now you get to enjoy a more time-pausing dependent system with roguelike gameplay to really keep you on your toes.

“The system is taunting you once more, but this time, things are a lot more action-packed. New enemies, weapons, and levels achieve this very well in Superhot: Mind Control Delete.”

Superhot: Mind Control Delete starts off similarly to the original, guiding you through the general time-moves-only-when-you-move gameplay mechanic. I mean, you may be new, or you may not have played the game before. But then it lures you into a false sense of completing the game fairly quickly before resorting to the whole, “Haha, got you. Now the game truly begins!”

You’ll find yourself having to progress through what are called RUNs, with each completed one unlocking the next. While some RUNs unlock distorted story text, there are also cores and hacks to unlock. Cores are permanent abilities for that selected RUN, while hacks are abilities you can apply throughout a RUN at specific points. I’ll explain these in more detail shortly.

Imagine RUNs being chapters that consist of numerous levels, as you can see in the above image, each “stop” is shown as red text. Each level is randomly chosen from a list of locations such as the kitchen level, the bank, or even a sewer. You’ll go from level to level until you complete all levels in a chapter without dying. If you die, you’re sent back to the first level. Along the way, you’ll have maybe 2 or 3 chances to apply a hack from a randomized selection of two unlocked hacks that will remain with you through the chapter unless you die.

But what are hacks? Hacks are unlocked after completing some RUNs and have you enter a quick training level to try out your new ability when you first acquire it. Hacks can range from refilling hearts, exploding throwables, bullets that pierce through enemies, a strong punch, etc. The fact you can only choose from a randomized selection each time the option appears means you’ve got to go for what hack you think will benefit you. Do you heal your hearts, or go for the ability to stomp on an enemy?

The other thing is cores. These special RUNs find you basically using the core through the whole run, and once you complete all levels, you acquire it to your core library. Only one of these cores can be selected at the start of every RUN and will be present throughout every level on top of any hacks you assign while progressing. Cores can come in the form of having extra hearts, having a charged punch, switching bodies, and my favourite, having a katana you can recall.

Having cores and hacks added to the gameplay actually builds a brilliant combat experience. While you’d think they’d help you, sometimes they can be a hindrance and you need to get a bit more strategic. For example, I found myself only choosing the hack to punch bullets back at enemies providing I had a heart to spare in case I cocked up. Not knowing what hacks I was going to be offered also added to the suspense in ways that made me question how I wanted to approach a level. Slowly and timidly, or with quick steps and potential clumsiness to rush through.

Generally, Superhot: Control Mind Delete is best played strategically. After all, the levels are cleverly designed to ensure you’ve got enough cover, but also contain so much open space that you’re able to become quickly overwhelmed. Throwables are scattered throughout levels so you’ve usually got things available to throw, but most require you to turn your attention away from the enemy. This, of course, means you’re making time move unaware of an enemy running around the corner with an assault rifle.

“Having cores and hacks added to the gameplay actually builds a brilliant combat experience.”

Weapons come in the form of throwables such as ashtrays, fish, and the like. Melee weapons such as shurikens and katanas join firearms such as pistols and shotguns. There are many more types of weapons too, but generally, you’ll find yourself lobbing guns at enemies anyway because it’s quicker than reloading.

As for enemies, they seem to grow smarter, learning to dodge bullets themselves and trying to outflank you. There are also new enemy types that ramp up the challenge. Some foes start to have specific body parts you can hurt, some have weapons you cannot take from them, there’s a samurai or something, and there’s a damn dog-headed one. I hate it. Essentially, the dog head is invincible and chases you, encouraging you to kill and finish the level before it manages to maim you to death. Honestly, it changes the pacing so much that I actually started panicking.

The weapons, enemies, and clever levels all wrap the game up to become an incredibly enjoyable experience with the roguelike elements ensuring you’re constantly thinking strategically. The challenges that come with each level are always unpredictable, but I found the fluidity of the time-moves-only-when-you-move style encouraged me to keep going at it. And sometimes, I’d complete levels in ways that felt like they needed to be captured and boasted about online.

And that’s entirely possible with Superhot: Mind Control Delete’s new replay editor, but I don’t like the replay editor. It’s a bit naff. Not only is it a bit confusing to understand and control, but it never seems to capture the action as it happened with time-moves-only-when-you-move active. Movements feel unnatural, the camera’s too smooth, and it’ll show throwables/bullets heading off way before when you actually sent them. Evidently, everything really is better in slow-motion.

There’s an endless mode that’s unlocked at one point, allowing you to go through levels you’ve previously played. This finds enemies growing harder the more waves you progress through. You’re given the option to choose your core before you start an endless level, and as you get through so many waves, you get to apply hacks, adding more on as you survive. I honestly loved this mode, feeling like I could really utilize and enjoy the combat mechanics without the lingering sense of permadeath blocking progress. However, the further into the waves I got, the more dedicated I was becoming to staying alive.

What I like about Superhot: Mind Control Delete is the audio design and the music. The majority of the time, RUNs are fairly silent with just diegetic audio playing out such as gunshots, crashes, and shattering glass. However, any moment the story is progressing there’s a lovely, haunting soundtrack that plays. While these segments separate the gameplay from the story, I felt there needed to be more music in general.

The perfect example comes in the form of the Disco level, in which you can hear the upbeat soundtrack slowed when you’re not moving, then when you do move, it plays the music in real-time. The music, both slowed and real-time, really helped increase the tension and intensity and made me want other levels to have a prominent, upbeat track.

But then, the absence of music isn’t a negative point, so let me be clear about that. Superhot: Mind Control Delete’s world has enough audio cues to keep you embedded in the atmosphere. Directional gunshots, the hellish rumbling when the dog enemy has arrived, the beeping of a nearby bomb activated either by attacking it or getting close to it.

There needed to be more visual cues, though. There are red glows emitting from areas enemies are appearing from, and if an enemy is behind you you’ll have “Watch your back!” flash up. But there could have been more done with indicators for off-screen bullets, darker UI elements to stand out against the white aesthetics of the world, a clearer reticle and perhaps something like a glow or shading to determine an object’s distance for interactivity.

“If you were a fan of the original, you’ll be right at home in Superhot: Mind Control Delete.”

Control-wise, I felt Superhot: Mind Control Delete was easy to maneuver, requiring only the WASD keys, and about three other buttons to grab objects, throw them, or use core abilities. It is about precision at the best of times, timing a dagger throw to hit an enemy’s red leg, or punching a bullet back with your bare hands. With this precision in mind, and the clever scattering of objects in the level, if you mess up, then chances are you’re dead. This is especially true when you see a wall of shotgun bullets entering your face with no escape.

Really, Superhot: Mind Control Delete is a very fun experience that builds on the success of the original game and improves the already well-done mechanics by adding more. The combat feels enjoyable and the challenge that comes with all of these new abilities left me feeling like I was mastering the game.

But that experience was short-lived in a good way when the enemy AI became more challenging and more types spawned. My comfort zone of hiding in a corner became a hindrance when the demon dog thing became involved, and opting for close combat was a mistake when the exploding enemies were introduced.

It’s a game that will have you striving to get through the levels to unlock more hacks and cores, but the endless mode is where it really lets you go to town on everything you’ve unlocked. If you were a fan of the original, you’ll be right at home in Superhot: Mind Control Delete.

July 9, 2020 12:00 PM EST

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/07/mind-control-delete-review-hacking-the-system/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=mind-control-delete-review-hacking-the-system

[jjamwal]

THE BASHING OF BRAHMINS AND INDIA’S CASTE-SYSTEM HAS AN AGENDA Common people in the west know hardly anything about India. But one thing they all know: India has an ‘inhuman’ caste system, which is an important feature of their religion, Hinduism. Most also ‘know’ that Brahmins are the highest caste, which oppresses the lower castes, and worst off are the untouchables. I learnt this already in primary school, but knew nothing at that time about the concentration camps of Nazi Germany only a few years earlier or about the atrocities of slavery or colonialism. Yet the Indian caste system with Brahmins as villains was part of the curriculum in Bavarian schools in the early 1960s, and it still is today: some time ago I asked three young Germans in Rishikesh what they associate with Hinduism. Their prompt reply was, “caste system”. Surely, they also had learnt that it was most inhuman. In all likelihood, all over the world school children are taught about the ‘inhuman’ caste system. Why? There is likely an agenda behind it. Yes, the caste system exists, and untouchables, too. And it exists all over the world. Curiously, ‘caste’ is Portuguese for class. It is not even an Indian term. The ancient Vedas mention four varnas – Brahmins, Kshatryas, Vaishyas and Sudras, which form the body of society, like the head, arms, thighs and feet form the body of a human being. It is a beautiful analogy which implies that all parts are important. True, the head will be given more respect, but will you ignore your feet? Not everyone is made for intellectual work, fortunately, because a society without farmers, traders, workers won’t be possible. All have their role to play. And in future lives, there are likely to be role reversals. Varna was not hereditary originally. It depended on one’s predominant guna (quality of character) and one’s profession. The job of Brahmins was specifically to memorise the Vedas and preserve them absolute correctly for future generation. They had to have predominately Satwa (pure) guna and had to stick to many more rules for purity than any other caste. Brahmins were the guardians of the purity of the Vedas. So it is understandable that they would not touch those who for example remove the dead bodies of animals or clean the sewers, though a society needs people, who do these jobs, too. In the west, people also wouldn’t shake hands with them. But no issue is made out of it. Due to their satwa guna, Brahmins were least likely to be abusive to other groups in society. Usually it is the group which considers itself socially just above another group, which looks down on those lower. This trait is there in all societies, but it is true, that in India, unfortunately over time, the four varnas were inherited by birth. There are today many Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, Sudras, who do not follow their dharma any longer and therefore should not consider themselves as belonging to their inherited varna. But why is the structure of the society in India constantly decried, when nobody accuses for example the nobility, the highest ‘caste’ in the west, that it does not mingle with workers and won’t live in their neighbourhood? Why is nobody upset that the British allowed only ��whites’ into the club of Madikeri town in Karnataka and probably all over the country, as an old Indian gentleman told me? If I remember right, he said that the sign at the club read, “Dogs and Indians not allowed”. Why is nobody upset that the agriculture policy of the British Colonialists starved some 25 MILLION Indians to death? 25 million men, women and children slowly dying because they had nothing to eat in a country that was one of the richest before the British took over… There are terrible pictures on the net of Indians only being skin and bones, barely alive. Why is nobody upset that the British, after slavery was abolished, sent indented labour from India all over the world in cramped boats, where a big number died during the journey already (and were spared the torture in the sugarcane estates)? Why nobody talks about what the Muslim invasions did to Hindus and especially to Brahmins? How cruel they were? How many Hindus were killed or made slaves? How many Hindu women committed mass suicide by jumping into fire so that they won’t fall into the hands of the Muslim troops? Nowadays, due to ISIS we can well imagine what happened then, yet the Leftists and even ‘respectable’ British Parliamentarians are not concerned with all this. They are concerned with the ‘most inhuman caste system’ of India. It can be safely assumed that the colonial masters tried to drive a wedge between the castes by ‘fixing’ the former fluidity of varnas in their census from 1871 onwards. And today, their democratic successors, though without political power in India, try to drive a wedge with the help of manipulative media and even parliamentary legislation in their own country. My point is: what Brahmins did by segregating from others or even snubbing others is negligible in comparison what Christian colonialists and Muslim invaders did. So why are the so-called atrocities of the caste-system so hyped? The reason may well be to divert the attention from those who actually should feel guilty what they did and still do to India. It’s not the Brahmins. Many of them suffer today, mainly due to reservation and, though poor in many cases, by being excluded from benefits which are given to religious minorities or lower castes. But this is not the only reason why the caste system and Brahmins are being bashed worldwide. Another important agenda is to shame Brahmins, to make them feel guilty about their forefathers and to make them reluctant to follow their original Dharma of learning and teaching the Vedas. The goal is to make Vedic knowledge disappear in India, because it poses a danger for Christianity and Islam. It can easily challenge their so called “revealed truths”. Vedic knowledge makes sense and is therefore the greatest obstacles for Christianity and Islam to expand over the whole world. Unfortunately, a lot of Vedic texts are already lost. The former Shankaracharya of Kanchipuram, Sri Chandrashekarendra Saraswati, says in his book “The Vedas” that out of 1180 Shakas, into which Veda Vyasa divided the 4 Vedas some 5000 years ago, only eigth are still in use. (Just wondering: would a search in England, Germany and other countries rediscover some of this treasure? ) It is about time to stop this Brahmin bashing and stop portraying the Indian caste system as the worst that has ever befallen humanity. It sounds so fake, especially, when ISIS gets neutral treatment by just mentioning facts, like, “ISIL burns 19 Yazidi women to death in iron cages because they refused to have sex with fighters” without any emotional colour or condemnation. Some time ago, I saw an old Brahmin couple in a temple in south India. They had dignity, but were very thin. When Prasad (sacred food) was distributed, they were in the queue before me. Later I saw that they joined the queue again…. It was in all likelihood due to poverty. Brahmins don’t need to feel guilty about their forefathers. They can be proud of them, because it is only thanks to them that India is the only country that has preserved its precious, ancient wisdom at least partly. Yet others should indeed feel guilty, but those others are brazen and won’t. They rather vitiate the atmosphere with unjustified hatred for Hinduism and anti-Brahmanism. By Maria Wirth http://ift.tt/2DO9xSA

[lavishclean-blog]

Organic House Cleaners

If in case you have a busy lifestyle, it may be tough doing every thing and cleansing the home as well. Your best choice is to hire home cleaners, to make sure your home is always clear irrespective of how busy you're. Selecting a home cleaner is a giant choice. These are individuals who might be working right in your home and you have to make sure that they are people you may belief. Additionally they need to do an excellent job since your home is where you and your loved ones spend a whole lot of time.

When selecting home cleaners, you'll want to listing down all the duties you need achieved. It will help you when on the lookout for cleaners maid service in phx since you may choose those who cowl the areas you want cleaned. Decide a company that may customize its services to suit your wants.

One other thing you need to consider is the costs of cleaning. At all times go for an organization that offers affordable cleansing services. You may ask whether or not they cost per hour or relying on the amount of cleansing you get carried out. This helps you understand how a lot you're going to spend on the cleansing and whether it is inside your finances.

The cleansing ought to be done to your personal satisfaction. The corporate needs to be ready to have somebody redo the cleansing in areas you aren't proud of. This protects your funding and you are assured of good outcomes. There are various sites on-line the place you may get cleaning providers.

Go over the terms of service from each of the providers. You can even take a look at among the customer evaluations written by those who have entrusted their cleaning to the company. This can ensure that you already know what to anticipate from the home cleaners.

If you are happy with what you see, you can request for a session assembly. This lets you discuss nose to nose with the people who find themselves going to clean your house. This is the easiest way so that you can assess them and get a really feel of the form of people you are coping with.

Ask as many questions as doable concerning their cleansing strategies, the tools they use, and even the chemicals they will use. Enquire about their durations of work and what days they'll come in to do the cleansing. If you're allergic to some chemicals, it is likely to be obligatory to inform the cleaners no to use sure products. Ask concerning the qualifications and professionalism of the house cleaners who can be coming to your house.

Upon getting chosen a company, you'll be able to ask them to come back for a take a look at run clean. This will give you an opportunity to evaluate the standard of their companies. If you are comfortable and happy, you can go ahead and signal a contract with the cleaners. That way, they are going to be coming to do the cleaning at regular intervals and ensure your own home is a clean and wholesome place to dwell.

Cleaning is without doubt one of the obligatory chores in the house. We simply can not live in a unclean home. A home that has kids and pets particularly wants cleansing due to the diseases that germs convey in the house. Most individuals favor hiring the providers of house cleaners when they are busy with work and other commitments.

At present's way of life has necessitated the need to hire cleaners especially whenever you don't have the power and time to wash the home. It's also important to rent home cleaners because they've the information on professional house cleaning. Certainly cleaners are certified to go away your home looking fresh and protected in your pets, youngsters and visitors.

Notably, once you determine to seek assistance in house cleaning, the cleaners will require particular data from you such because the date and time that you need the home cleaned and the areas that the cleaning will be achieved. Data reminiscent of the scale and structure of the house can also be essential. After this, the house owner is given a quote that outlines the fees and any other related data earlier than the cleaning day. He or she will then book an appointment when the cleaners will come and care for the house.

Folks have totally different needs when it comes to cleaning of their homes. The companies that a professional cleaning firm affords normally depend upon the consumer. Typically, the service given will contain sweeping, dusting, vacuuming and cleansing the carpet. Carpet cleaning is definitely best done by professionals as a result of they use detergents and carpet cleaners, which take into account the fabric of the carpet allowing it to remain sturdy. This may routinely depart your carpet clean and contemporary.

Probably the most requested companies is spring cleansing. When the season modifications especially after winter, home cleansing specialists are usually on excessive demand. Purchasers request cleaners to refresh their homes and take away the cold temperatures inside and around the house. Rooms that were not in use are additionally prepared for use. Locations such because the garden, garage and patio obtain probably the most attention.

Each day cleaning is one other service that cleaners give to their shoppers. Individuals living in apartments get pleasure from this service sometimes as a part of their lease each month. There are clients who rent cleaners after a fortnight. In such instances, cleaners often come to do the laundry, clean the curtains and iron garments for his or her clients.

Month-to-month cleaning is one other requested service. People who request for this service from professional cleaners normally have households and wish particular attention for their loos, rugs and kitchen. Certainly these areas want professionals due to the necessity for tools and experience. Often they will also test on kitchen appliances and work on any upkeep and repairs. Plumbing and the sewer system can even be checked and repaired forthwith.

There are circumstances when emergency cleansing is required in the home. This happens when stains are on carpets and rugs or friends mess the toilet after a celebration. In such cases, extra expenses might apply due to booking was not achieved in advance. This might be very helpful and depart your own home spotlessly clear.

Natural cleaning is defined as "cleaning to guard health with out harming the atmosphere" (The College of Connecticut's Green Cleansing Agenda). The majority of folks clear in an effort to preserve a secure, wholesome dwelling atmosphere, but what is ironic and disheartening, is that almost all of family cleansing agents commonly used as we speak include chemical substances which can be hazardous to our well being and the atmosphere.

Cleaning And Our Health:

While organic home cleaners serve the same basic purpose as widespread family cleaning agents, the most important difference between natural and non-organic is that non-natural, or common cleaners, comprise chemicals that are harmful to our health. Certain household cleaning products include warning labels, akin to "irritant", "corrosive", and "poison", however it is what the labels do not say that may be detrimental. They do not mention that the chemical components "might cause cancer", "are linked to an increase in bronchial asthma, or decrease in mind operate" or "may lead to reproductive points". The listing goes on, sadly. This being mentioned, well being and security do not appear to be the number one concern of these whom are manufacturing these dangerous cleaning products.

Quite the opposite, producers of organic house cleaners have considered the adversarial impacts chemical toxins have on our well being. Thus, they have done their homework and spent the money and time essential to eliminate these chemical substances from their merchandise. You will not find a lengthy listing of chemical substances on organic home cleaner labels, but instead, a short record of natural ingredients corresponding to citric acid (present in citrus fruits), thyme oil (which is a pure disinfectant) and other plant-based elements.

Cleansing And Our Atmosphere:

Most cleaning products have been certainly not created with the fragility of the environment in thoughts. Every year, tons of and thousands of toxins are rinsed down drains, flushed down bogs or hurled into the streets, all in the identify of maintaining clear. Unlike organic house cleaners, which are naturally derived, widespread family cleaners include Risky Natural Compounds, or VOC's. Some acquainted VOC's include phosphorus, ammonia, and nitrogen, all of which wreak havoc on the atmosphere. These VOC's particularly aren't removed during water remedy processes, thus they enter our lakes, rivers, and streams inflicting extensive harm, equivalent to contaminated waters and depletion of marine life. Natural house cleaners, nevertheless, are a distinct story.

When natural home cleaners are manufactured, they are created with the environment in mind. Instead of containing dangerous chemical compounds that negatively influence the environment, organic house cleaners are rigorously crafted utilizing biodegradable, plant-based ingredients which have little to no effect on the surroundings. It is easy to know why many people are making a conscious effort to switch to those natural house cleaners.

In right now's society, people are continually looking for ways to steer healthier lives, and this pertains to their cleansing methods also. Once people turn out to be aware of how harmful many of the frequent cleaners are, they make a conscious effort to switch to raised, safer natural house cleaners.

To be able to do a thorough and general cleansing, you want to have a checklist for home cleaners. Having a guidelines helps to make sure that you don't miss any spots while cleansing. It is also necessary to make sure that the professional individuals you could have working for you might be doing a thorough job. After you have hired house cleaners, you possibly can undergo the guidelines with them so that they are well conscious of all of the necessary locations to be cleaned.

The first on the guidelines ought to be the kitchen. You must make sure that the cupboards and shelves are thoroughly cleaned since they are hardly ever tidied during regular cleaning. The fronts of the cabinets may also be wiped and polished to go away them trying vibrant. Skilled house cleaners also be sure that the sinks are scrubbed and disinfected. The trash cans must also be cleaned in order to forestall them from growing a bad smell.

If there are home equipment within the kitchen, they may even be included in the house cleaners checklist. The home equipment must be cleaned in line with the manufacturer's specs. The fridge needs to be emptied and the shelves completely cleaned. The other appliances that need to be cleaned embrace microwaves, dishwasher and the cookers. This may be wiped on the skin as effectively in order to remove any stains which will have by chance spilled on them.

The toilet is an space of the home that can harbor plenty of germs if not totally cleaned. Home cleaners pay attention to this area of the home to be able to make sure that there isn't a buildup of germs. On the checklist must be the sink and the bathtub tub. These should be scrubbed down with effective scouring powder so as to prevent staining. The bathroom additionally must be scrubbed and disinfected. Mirrors ought to be cleaned and if there are any tiles on the loos, they should be scrubbed as well.

The bed room checklist for home cleaners includes cleansing the linens. The beddings should be cleaned and changed. The flooring should be vacuumed even under the beds. The closets must also be emptied and wiped out to make sure that there isn't any buildup of dust. The lamp shades additionally have to be cleaned and the lamp stands dusted as nicely. The windows additionally have to be cleaned and the window sills wiped out for mud.

The lounge is likely one of the areas the place you spend essentially the most time when you're at residence. Subsequently, skilled corporations also ensures that this area has been covered as properly. The carpets needs to be vacuumed or cleaned fully and the floors beneath them cleaned too. If there are artifacts or decorations reminiscent of image frames around the lounge, they should be dusted as well. Furnishings also needs to be cleaned and cobwebs eliminated. If you are getting skilled cleansing firm it's best to confirm that everything on the checklist has been accomplished.

[fullprincegardener-blog]

4 Crazy Ways To Prepare Your Turkey Utilizing NASA Equipment.

The large tip today for solar and electric batteries is this: put photovoltaic panels on your rooftop, an electric battery in the backyard (or cellar), and become utterly private from the electrical power grid, making use of totally free electric power coming from the sunshine. For the very best direct exposures, bear in mind the recommendations that freelance photographers have actually observed for many years: Attempt to place yourself to ensure the sun lags you or even over some of your shoulders. Much more powerful to Zhou however, is a component that assesses water quality throughout different machines in the very same region, monitoring overall high quality for communities. Once the faucet is intended in the ideal path, just tap or hold the reddish button to squirt water. So this falls to you, in this particular Disney-published perplexity, to drive water right into the hydro-generator that energies this spaghetti clutter of cylinders. In Hot Quest, you comprehensive under the watchful eye of the local law enforcement. In Lagos, 60 percent of Nigerians earn lower than $1 a time, as yet the nation is currently home to nearly 16,000 millionaires, many of all of them in Lagos. This is actually mosting likely to be crucial for obtaining tidy drinking water to people without gain access to in the creating planet. At that point the Brilliant people will definitely only start up a choir of giggling at your expense, if you fell this in water. This went to that time that they determined to create a beautiful area one hr north from Cabo San Lucas. For now, the current well is actually aiding to curb the several problems Someone Like You summarizes when living without tidy water access. In the video clip, they take an Apple Watch Sporting activity right into the downpour and also lather this up along with hair shampoo and also hot water. This raising comes scorching on the heels of a $181 thousand financial investment only 10 months prior. Traders seem to still be fascinated from Apple's reduced P/E proportions in addition to Apple's scorching brand-new G4 and iBook. Hotdogs, Horseshoes and Hand Explosives is a careless Sunday trip over to your pals residence ... if your friend was actually a retired gun-nut along with a storehouse filled with playthings, a few irritating robot animals, and a grill that's consistently running. To figure out, Ramirez and also Kaltenegger managed environment designs for hypothetical earths orbiting superstars that varied in temperature level coming from 2,600 to 10,000 Kelvin (our sunlight averages regarding 5,800 K), with atmospherical H2 attentions ranging off 1 to HALF. For example, I went outside and also Sunshine Hunter revealed me that the Sun was simply responsible for the eaves from my home. Famines, dry spells, and also pains destabilize federal governments, and assets in water security will certainly prevent or even mitigate those catastrophes. Participating in the new Hot Activity, it's all a far cry from the existing HD Need for Velocity headlines, the majority of which start off by creating you drive the slightly very hot alternatives from ecobox hatchbacks, pushing you to work through hours of gameplay in under-powered lorries prior to the truly respectable automobiles are rolled out. The brand-new MacMall Hot Deals webpage has offers on FireWire hard drives, a wireless router, Workplace, DiskWarrior 3, Virtual Personal Computer 7, an Alien Skin layer package, two Zip Drives, and also some Zip media. Truong informed TechCrunch his original tip for the business was inspired through training courses that he took at Tufts Fletcher College of Regulation and also Savoir-faire as well as MIT, as well as through failed efforts through non-government companies as well as benefactors to feed the globe. Although your city may still offer your water as well as sewer solution, the business from water is big sector. Leonardo Daemon, organizer from water high quality surveillance for the state's ecological firm, pointed out officials are actually strictly adhering to Brazilian requirements on water quality, which are all based upon bacteria degrees, as are actually those from mostly all countries. He did that from a giant jump put together at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, developed to resemble a life-sized length of promising orange Hot Wheels monitor. Once this possesses pair of souls and also a mermaid step you'll receive Sylveon next opportunity Eevee levels up. As http://tacut-frumusetea.info of Company Nic Barnes tells me, this will be actually rather crazy to presume that LeBron James and also Miley Cyrus call for the same quantity of water daily. This's something to transform drainage right into potable consuming water; it is actually one more trait completely to switch that into the honey of the hops gods. It surely feels like Insomniac knows what it's doing with the components, given the attractive Spider-Man E3 2016 specialist trial was actually working on a bog-standard PS4 as well as Sony's presently including about Spider-Man's PS4 Pro assistance Our company have great chances that a hot property is actually merely exactly what the staff needs to accentuate its activity chops, which were actually sadly discounted by the cringe-worthy witticism from Dusk Overdrive as well as the grimdark overhaul of Fuse. In 2014, ISI Technology introduced the Heatworks Model1 in the Startup Battlefield at Disrupt NY. Unlike existing products, the Model1 works through capitalizing on the power resistance that's belonging to the water so the only point that fumes inside the gadget is actually the water itself. Fantastic Hot Wheels Autos - Hot Wheels World's Best Driver features 24 outrageous and renowned Hot Tires cars; there is actually something for everyone! The major webpage reveals your longitude (lambda), latitude (phi), sunrise and also sundown times at the top combined along with a compass viewpoint from the arc of the Sunlight via out the day in yellow. And on certain days when I perform feel bloated, alcohol consumption water assists my signs and symptoms subside. The research studies come at a time when the worst dry spell on report because a minimum of the 19th century is forcing California representatives to cut water use off even the politically powerful farming industry. In the beginning, it seems like Sundown may be a video game about the futility of personal heroism from systemic fascism. I inquired myself if as opposed to helping make the property well-maintained, you could help make the water tidy. This process from water evaporation and condensation is actually the most extensive distillation process in the world! The Earth is not a sealed unit, that has a sunlight putting gobs from power in to it. This sun ranch grabs several of that electricity - and afterwards our experts may use this. And without a lot of air pollution. Yet actually, anybody who can market one thing gotten in touch with FATwater (virtually water along with body fat in that) should have a medal in the purchases hall from prominence. As even more Americans become aware of the must conserve water for ecological causes, or due to drought-related water use limitations, the water electricals have actually found themselves having a hard time to remain monetarily sound as they start to market much less water to their customers.

[ivisite]

For the drabble meme, 33 with Anruin?

Anruin is petty with a capital “P” and I’m all about that.

#33. “I saw you staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage.”

It wasn’t often that Anruin managed to successfully read his map well enough to make it to his destination and it was even more rare for him to stumble upon something worth writing about. Besides studying half-diligently at the two colleges of Skyrim, the small Bosmer found himself enthralled with his own personal journey. He wanted nothing more than to become the greatest bard and with his Mer blood giving him a few extra years to hold over the common man, he was happy to say he had plenty of time to accomplish said feat.

Bards of old simply spoke tales they’d heard from others but Anruin was determined to do the opposite. Based strictly on rumors he picked up while coaxing about local Inns, he managed to catch wind of a new figure emerging- or two, rather. One such figure was the Last Dragonborn, a Nord woman with hair as fiery as the souls of the dragons she captured and the other was a mysterious hooded figure that few had ever actually seen, a harbinger of thieves and larceny that guards whined about in the days after the it was supposedly spotted in the area. Amused by the notion but bribed to say otherwise, Anruin knew far too much about any given person anyways but in particular he knew quite a bit about the newest soon-to-be hero of old.

“Can’t you guys get some incense? Just because it is a sewer doesn’t mean it has to smell like it- and it’s far too humid, too. Humidity isn’t good for singing..” Anruin rambled, walking about the infamous Ragged Flagon that everyone spoke ill of.

At the counter, the owner of said makeshift bar wiped down tankards with an annoyed flair. He was a surprisingly decent looking man, all considering where he set up shop and his so-called lady friend wasn’t too bad on the eyes either. Both, however, watched the Bosmer parade about with the last of their nerves ticking away. 

“Woof Elf, I’ll ask again, what do you want? Shouldn’t you be prancing around an Inn or something?” Tonilia rather pointedly asked. She was a Redguard, Anruin presumed and had a tough demeanor about her. Pretty enough but perhaps too domineering, Anruin could see why her little friend the bar keep might like her so much. Docile by contrast, the barkeep was a good balance to her more assertive nature.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping with your actual lover instead of literally everyone else?” Anruin coolly snapped back, taking out his journal and scribbling something down.

Both the barkeep and Tonilia’s mouth fell agape. The rabble that lived in the sewers weren’t exactly posh and well-mannered but for some stranger to waltz down on his merry way to gods know where just to bother them was infuriating in both both and practice.

“Why you dirty little bast-” The Redguard woman started to say, cut short by a rather loud throat being cleared.

“Can someone please be so kind as to tell me where all my workers are? I’d really appreciate it.”

The man in question was of average height but made up for any short-comings in the area by his gruff voice and permanent look of annoyance that chiseled itself onto his face. The man haphazardly glanced between the three other people in the Flagon only to shake his head and take a seat at a table off to the side. Grumbling about needing something to drink, the man motioned his hand at the barkeep.

“And what in Oblivion do you want, elf?” He spat, looking to Anruin rather hatefully. 

“A hearty drink with warm company, of course. Why else would I have come to such a lovely establishment with such inviting patrons?” Anruin cooed back, smiling at the irritated knitting of the man’s brow.

“If you must know, though, I’m looking for Saoirse. Had a gut feeling she might be around here when not dragonborn-ing.” The wood elf said slyly. In truth, he knew all too well of Skyrim’s rising hero. She wasn’t much of one from what he could see, at least not based on the great, bulky heroes of the past and had a bit of a dark side to her that she bribed him with gold and food to not tell anyone about.

“Oh, well then, that makes two of us.” The grump of a man retorted, rolling his eyes as he drank from his tankard.

“Ah, Mercer! Delvin and Vex are out on jobs with a few of the other stagglers from the Cistern. Brynjolf and Saoirse are probably killing each other or something. Delvin sent them on another job together.“ 

From his spot behind the bar, Vekel must have seen a lot of thing and for that Anruin could respect. Barkeeps and Bards knew everything about everyone that walked by them and were dangerous in their own right. Either type could twist a rumor just a bit and have the whole hold gossiping for weeks on end.

"As long as the job gets finished first, what’s it matter afterwards.” Mercer grumbled again.

It grew quiet in the small tavern after that, an odd but welcoming atmosphere if you squinted and tried really hard to find it. Persistent, Anruin took a seat at a table that was situated on what he called the dock, for lack of better words. If she were out on a job, she would have to come back eventually and he had a million things to ask as soon as she did.

Despite popping up at a bad time during a dragon attacking a nearby settlement, Anruin and Saoirse managed to get along rather well. She wasn’t pompous or haughty like he imagined someone with her title would be and seemed to put up with his presence on most occasions. Perhaps only because he was so insistent on the friendship, the two and whomever happened to be following her around at the time were quite the gaggle to behold. 

After what seemed like hours, the Flagon was greeted to the oncoming hum of what sounded like people screeching in the ratways coming towards the entrance of the tavern. While Vekel seemed amused by it, muttering something about his end of a bet going well, Mercer groaned and rubbed his temples.

“You bloody bastard! How dae you except me to be able to read your damned mind?! Ruddy haired son-of-a bi-" 

”-Look who’s calling the kettle full, you ruddy haired wench! When Mercer heres about this, he’s going to kill me and I’m going to push you in front like a human shield!“ 

Bickering as they walked into the tavern, Saoirse and another red head that Anruin couldn’t help but give a second glance towards made their way over to the seating area. They hadn’t noticed the other patrons just yet but they made good time in grabbing their alcohols of choice and taking seats as far away from each other as possible. Saoirse found herself sitting at the bar and her accomplice sat pretty with the grump from earlier. As quickly as the storm rolled in, it seemingly settled as soon as they had a drink in hand and back to one another.

Anruin watched the two for a moment before taking a seat next to his favorite muse, nudging her playfully in hopes of striking up a conversation while the men across the way talked business in hushed voices. Others started pouring into the tavern soon afterwards, as well, filling the seats and talking loudly while chasing what was left of daylight with various meads and wine. It was oddly comforting, Anruin noted, despite the general ambience leaving something to be desired. He was a muscian and a story-teller at heart and a bustling tavern was where he belonged.

As brazen as he might have seemed, Anruin could read a room in seconds flat. Despite the rumblings of several different conversations and boisterous laughter here and there, he couldn’t help but notice a stale bit of air sitting stagnant overhead. The other red head from earlier seemed to have lightened up once a few drinks settled on his stomach, carrying on with a balding man, a hateful looking blonde and this Mercer fellow from earlier. In contrast, Saoirse was uncharacteristically quiet, even having moved down a few seats from the Bosmer after muttering about not being in the mood.

It was absolutely tantalizing. Like a moth to a flame, Anruin took out his journal again, placing it on the counter along with a quill and ink bottle much to the barkeep’s amusement. There was always something to make a song out of and if the dragonborn had some sort of edge to her, he was about to write every observation on the matter down in his notes. The song of the era would need to be detailed and Anruin was more than happy to include this odd moment of stagnant tension in the hero’s journey in the song.

Not paying mind, he managed to draw a few curious onlookers attention towards him. Another Bosmer of the more cliche archer sort took a seat nearby while a dark haired man with a nicer disposition than the others sat on the otherside of Anruin. Both were quiet as they watched the bard scribble but couldn’t help but interrupt after a while passed.

"What’re you writing, kinsman?” The other Bosmer asked, peering over Anruin’s shoulder while the darker haired male squinted to read the pages.

Anruin loved attention, so when it was given he was to engage, though kept a certain watchfulness about him so not to miss anymore note worthy things. Smiling, he put his quill down and dusted off the corner of the page he was writing on.

“It’s a song. I’m trying to write about our dragonborn over here but she’s too busy moping about to get anything noteworthy out of.” He playfully chimed, pushing the journal into better view for his onlookers.

They seemed intrigued by the notion if not amused as they both skimmed the pages. Strangers they might have been but patrons never-the-less. If they wanted to hear a story Anruin would gladly oblige. While the pair quietly muttered and read through the pages of notes, Anruin let himself study the room. Nothing really changed since his last glance around but from the corner of his eye he did manage to catch a glimpse of something worth taking a moment to ponder on.

From across the way at the table full of important looking members amongst the rabble, Anruin watched as the red headed man gazed at Saoirse when he thought no one was looking. He would let his eyes linger on her for no more than a moment before flickering them back to his own company but wouldn’t let himself go too long without looking her way again. His expression was neutral as far as Anruin could tell from his peripheral vision but the gazes were intense. He wasn’t the target, but he could almost feel the weight of it pass over his shoulders en route to the woman nestled at the edge of the bar. 

“Curious…” He thought to himself before turning his attention to Saoirse down a ways from him. She sat quietly at the edge, tinkering with a fork while her bottle of mead sat sparsely touched.

She, too, seemed to notice the weight and made quick to let her own eyes wander towards the other red head from time to time. It was another hard read but Anruin could feel the weight of her gaze passing over him just as much, if not more so than the red headed male’s. They seemed to dance around each other, glancing in perfectly timed intervals so not to catch one another and Anruin found it rather amusing. It was as though they were bickering still, taking non-verbal shots at one another before passively looking away to await the other’s response.

Picking up his quill and dipping it in ink after several moments of watching the two, Anruin raised his brows nonchalantly and let a coy smile make its way across his lips. His notes were rather bland as of late, mostly based on rumors and the odd sighting but in this instance he decided to toss a bit of grease on the fire. Fingers popped and legs crossed just so, Anruin cleared his throat and caught the attention of the tavern. Pleased with spotlight, he chuckled and looked between the red heads on either side of the room. 

“I saw you two staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage. Care to elaborate or should I just write down that it’s both? That would make for a good line in my song….” He cooed.

Horror struck the faces of both people that had been singled out and every pair of eyes in the tavern began to waver between the two. Anruin, however, couldn’t help but chortle at his feat as he dipped his quill in the nearby ink well. With both red heads at a loss for words by the sudden call out, Anruin shook his shoulders happily and began writing.

"Oh good, it’s both then. The plot thickens and the tension rises! This is going to be the best song ever….”

Anruin is the messiest ho in all of Tamriel and I couldn’t be more proud.