#then it turned out Awesomesauce in this lighting so. uh. yeah.

[knightwhoisni]

electric angel

[platypanthewriter]

Lazerbeamy Strongman

Day One of Harringrove AUgust, prompt: Superhero AU

Steve Harrington, newly hired reporter and resident Wholesome Nice Guy, kept sidling over to Billy’s desk to read his interview questions. It was hard enough coming up with questions for a superhero who could fly, hold up falling skyscrapers, and shoot lasers from his eyes. The memory of the pulse of blue light blowing out the engine block of the armed robber’s getaway car made Billy shudder.

‘Are the lasers under complete control,’ he typed. ‘Could you be startled into vaporizing the city?’

Directly behind his chair, Harrington snorted a laugh.

“Shut up, Hawkins Indiana,” Billy told him.

Harrington didn’t move.

“Cut this shit out, or I’m squirting you with a bottle,” Billy told him, through a bite of ham’n’rye sandwich. “You keep climbing all up in my business, you’re gonna get Lysol between the eyes.”

“Sorry,” Harrington said, looking abashed, but his eyes still strayed to Billy’s screen, and Billy grabbed the Lysol, spraying a whole cloud as Steve dove back to his own desk. He ducked his head as the editor of the Planet walked by.

A few hours later, Billy caught him staring at the list of questions again, from way too far away, really—it wasn’t like Harrington could actually read Billy’s screen from the coffee machine, but he looked suspiciously intent, so Billy stalked over.

“Can you see my questions from there?! Are those huge nerd frames telescopic, or—just—what the fuck, dude,” he muttered, squinting over at his desk. He could make out that Microsoft Word was open, maybe. Maybe. “How the hell,” Billy growled, turning his glower on Harrington, who stared innocently out the window, sipping his coffee.

“How could I possibly,” Harrington said, not meeting Billy’s eyes as he drank the last of his mug of coffee, and Billy took the last of the coffee in the pot just to spite him, and stalked off.

Ten minutes later, he scooted his chair back and hit Harrington’s jeans with his elbow, and Harrington stumbled back, like he hadn’t been reading over Billy’s shoulder. “Are you a fucking cat?!” Billy hissed. “I’m gonna get one of those invisible fences and shock you every time you try to sneak my interview questions—”

“You’re better at interviews than me,” Steve told him, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck in the annoyingly ‘aw, shucks’ way Billy was fairly sure couldn’t be sincere. “Just interested.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna have the opportunity to use these questions again,” Billy said drily. “Unless you’re gonna ask the next CEO you write up which planet he’s from, and how his clothes don’t burn off when he pulls people out of burning buildings.”

Harrington shrugged, grinning. “Um, I was actually gonna ask, what are you doing tonight? After wor—”

“Staking out the roof of the police department,” Billy told him, walking away to his desk—backwards, so he could yell. “He keeps leaving criminals up there. With notes! Thirty-percent higher chance on Friday nights!”

When the spandex-clad hero landed, cape aflutter, Billy leapt out. “To whom am I speaking?” he asked, in a breathless but calm professional voice.

“Just a moment, citizen,” said the hero, running his fingers through his hair and winking at Billy, and it was the first time he’d seemed like a real person, albeit a pickup artist, and not a comic book cliche.

He bent to handcuff three unconscious bruisers to the roof, prodding a muscled, fishnet-stockinged leg back towards the woman it belonged to. “Ah,” he said, when he stood back up, his hands on his hips like he’d practiced his dumb hero pose in the mirror. “I must go! Crime never waits!”

“What the hell,” Billy shouted after him, waving his notepad.

The next morning, Harrington looked smug. “How’d it go?” he asked, like he knew, and Billy sat on the asshole’s desk and drank, in turn, from both mugs of coffee. “Hey, isn’t that one mine?!” Harrington asked, and Billy stuck his tongue in it, swishing it around.

“Not anymore,” he said sweetly, and Harrington stared at him. “And it went great, obviously. He totally listened to his public and didn’t just fly off after acting like a shithead.”

“Wait, what’d he do?!” Harrington yelped, staring. “I—I read he, uh, he brought in the leaders of three different gangs!”

“Yeah, like a shithead,” Billy repeated, draining Harrington’s favorite mug, licking it, and handing it to him, empty. “And I froze my nuts off for four hours waiting for him to come back. That’s how it went. Shithead.”

“Oh,” Harrington said, frowning into his empty mug, as Billy wandered back to his desk with his own, ignoring Harrington’s mumbled “I mean, maybe—maybe he’s got to keep, like, his identity secret—”

“I didn’t ask for his goddamn alter ego, I was asking general shit,” Billy shot back, growling, and waving the hand without coffee in it. “Or I was going to!”

The next time Billy saw the shithead, he ran straight at him, dodging the falling debris, until abruptly he was flying.

“What are you doing,” the shithead hissed, his arms warm and strong as they carried Billy to the top of another damn building. “We’re under fire.”

“That’s your job,” Billy hissed at him. “My job is this damn interview. What kinds of disasters are you most likely to help with? Does Search and Rescue have your number?”

“Stay here,” the shithead commanded, and flew off, leaving Billy stranded on the top of a skyscraper. He spent the next hour trying to pinpoint the name of the building on Google Maps, before finally finding a number to call to let him in.

“I heard you ran right into the wreckage,” said Harrington, like he was worried, and Billy scoffed.

“I’ve worked warzones,” he said. “I can handle a car accident.”

“The viaduct collapsed,” Harrington said weakly, like a coward. “You were almost crushed by a flaming bus.”

“I also didn’t get even one question answered,” Billy muttered, glaring at the list on his screen, and Harrington stared from him to it. “I’m gonna have to grappling hook that shithead.”

“Um,” Harrington said, wincing. “He seems kind of...busy, usually, when he’s—”

“So am I,” Billy told him, reaching up and prodding his coworker’s shoulder. “I have won Pulitzers, I have better shit to do than spend my nights shouting questions at some shithead who can’t be assed to tell anyone his name, let alone answer some basic peace-of-mind questions like—” he made air quotes, “—‘to what degree do you feel obligated to help humanity?’”

“He’s kind of new,” Harrington said, wincing. “Maybe he doesn’t have, a um, a super...name, yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to say, like, ‘hello, good citizen, I am Lazerbeamy Strongman’—”

“Oh jesus,” Billy snorted, choking on his coffee.

“Hello, I’m Captain Awesomesauce,” Harrington groaned, his cheeks red for some reason. “I’m Rad-Dude.”

“Oh fuck me,” Billy coughed out, cackling. “So you’re saying he’s a moron.”

“I did not,” Harrington huffed, and Billy grinned at him.

“Are you a fan, Harrington? I saw you run right over to look at the latest pictures of him. That why you’re trying to edge in on my interview?”

“No!” Harrington groaned, rolling his eyes. “I just think you put all this...thought into this, and maybe he’s just helping out, you know, like anybody. Like if somebody calls the police on a purse snatcher, you don’t ask them why, or like, how much help they’re gonna be in future—”

“He wears a cape,” Billy pointed out. “He put a goddamn cape on, and he’s wearing some kind of themed onesie, and he says stuff like ‘Hello, innocent bystander,’ and that’s all weird as hell, so he better answer some questions. This isn’t somebody who was just there—he came on purpose, and he doesn’t want people to know who he is, or he’d talk to me—”

“Heroes wear capes!” Harrington argued, rolling his eyes again. “Maybe it’s a little creepy when you ambush people. On the roof of the police station.”

“We gotta call him something,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “He can answer my questions, or he can have every investigator in three cities trying to figure out his angle. He’ll be a police file five inches thick by this weekend.”

“Oh no,” Harrington said, wide-eyed, and Billy snorted.

“The hell d’you care?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You think he’s a moron who calls himself Lazerbeamy Strongman.”

“No,” Harrington said quickly, grimacing. “No, I just, uh. It’d...it’d suck if he’s just...trying to help.”

“If he’s just trying to help, he can give me something reassuring to publish, even if it’s just that he’s calling himself ‘Mr. Neato McCheeto’. People need to hear that he’s not going to use those laser eyes to shoot planes out of the sky.”

“Fuck you, he’s helping,” Harrington said sullenly, covering a snicker.

When Billy left for lunch, he bought the guy one of the badly painted caped bobbleheads already circulating the city, and left it on his desk.

“Oh no,” he heard Harrington say in horrified tones when he found it.

The third time Billy caught the new superhero, he was flying everyone to the tops of buildings. “Oh, fuck you,” Billy groaned, his body held in strong arms while his hands investigated the texture of the cape.

“She turned the ground into actual lava,” the shithead hissed at him. “I’ll get you down when you can walk without turning into a pillar of flame.”

“You better be back within the hour, or I will step off the edge,” Billy threatened, and the shithead groaned. “What’s your cape made of?” Billy yelled after him.

“I’ll come get you,” the shithead yelled back, and Billy sat down to wait, and write some preliminary scene setting. Metropolis’ newest hero shuffles a street of pedestrians onto the roofs of buildings in under a minute, before emptying the cars. Below him, Shithead was dodging around, trying to talk to the small child waving a wand and spraying lava.

Shithead did reappear, though, within the hour. He wasn’t even panting or sweating, and Billy eyed him with extreme dislike. He took the other people down, and Billy yelled threats after him, fully expecting to get stranded again, but Shithead flew back up and floated in front of him, his arms folded like Billy was supposed to be impressed.

“I’ll answer your questions,” he muttered, glowering.

“What’s your name,” Billy asked, wasting no time, because the wind on the skyscraper was sliding through his coat like he was naked. He shivered, turtling deeper into his scarf, and Shithead reached out, his hand twitching towards Billy.

“We—I can take you somewhere else? Somewhere warmer,” he offered awkwardly.

“Somewhere there’s coffee,” Billy growled, and the shithead laughed, grinning at him, and then stepped close to lift Billy again, but didn’t do it.

He just stood so close Billy could feel him breathing, holding his arms up like a scarecrow, and Billy groaned and turned to put his arms around the neck of a goddamn superhero and got scooped up like he was a damsel in distress. He sighed, disgusted, as Shithead took them back to the Daily Planet, dropped down past the roof, and landed them on the glassed-in balcony where Billy went when it was a choice between 1) smoke or 2) commit homicide.

Billy stared. “Have you been watching me,” he hissed, and the damn hero raised his hands.

“There’s coffee here,” he said, grimacing, and Billy stalked past him, by Harrington’s desk—the slacker was missing, and Billy snorted dismissively, and then remembered not everyone had had a ride back through the freezing wind. He shivered so hard as he poured the coffee he nearly spilled it, and whispered a brief prayer to Saint Drogo, patron saint of coffee and the insane, for his intervention in saving Billy’s water of life. The first sip told him it had been sitting on the burner, and his tongue curled in his mouth, his nose wrinkling, but he could feel it warming his veins and brain.

Shithead was still waiting on the balcony, frowning out over the city, and Billy watched him, taking another sip of the acrid coffee.

“Why d’you float like that,” he asked, and the weirdo blinked at him.

“Oh, um,” he said, frowning down, and reddening. “Uh, is this...on the record?”

“...not if you say it isn’t,” Billy said, leaning back into a creaky plastic chair, and putting his feet up on another.

“This outfit is sturdy enough to not burn up, but the feet get dirty if I walk,” Shithead said, grimacing.

“Your footie pajamas get dirty if you walk outside,” Billy said flatly, sighing. “This is an amazing start. On the record now—what’s your name, hero?”

“Oh! Ummm,” he said, wincing.

“Christ,” Billy groaned, pinching his brows together.

“"I'm...very...strong...ness..." the moron trailed off, and Billy stared at him.

“Try again,” he said.

“My sidekick—”

“You have a sidekick,” Billy interrupted, holding his pen up. “Nobody’s seen a sidekick.”

“He tells me when things happen, so I can help. He doesn’t go out there,” Shithead said, looking horrified, and for once sounding reasonable.

“Ah. Carry on,” Billy said, writing sidekick?? in the margin to address later.

“He thinks I should go by Encyc—oh, no,” he slapped a fist into his hand in realization, “It was Atlas,” the unnamed hero said, and Billy narrowed his eyes.

“Fair enough,” he said, about to ask why that didn’t out-rate ‘Very Strongness’, but the shithead crossed his arms with a huff.

“It makes no sense, I’m not a book,” he said, and Billy stared at him.

“You’re exactly the moron he thought you were,” he said disbelievingly. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! I—I just—I saved you from lava,” Shithead protested. “I saved you from a falling bus!”

“We gotta workshop this,” Billy said, groaning into his hands. “I’ll help you, because you did do all those things. And more to the point, I can’t make every news agent in the city say something that stupid every time you’re in the news.”

“What about Superguy,” the hero asked, leaning in enthusiastically. “Great...dude? Mister Awesome!”

“Fuck my life,” Billy sighed, laughing in despair. “What about something based on your powers—”

“Muscle-lasers! Musclasers?” the idiot suggested excitedly, and Billy smacked himself in the face again.

“What about just like...Knight Errant. You’ve got that kind of...shield shape on your chest—”

“Oooo,” Shithead said, floating closer, and Billy put a foot up and nudged him further away. “Because just Knight could get confusing, huh, like on the radio,” he said, and Billy wondered whether he did have a brain, and it just shorted out, like, most of the time. Maybe it was the lasers.

“D’you want to see the sunset,” Knight Errant asked, and Billy blinked at him. “You’re off work, right? I promise I won’t run, I’ll answer your questions,” he said, grimacing. “But...do you? The sunset over the city?”

As a career reporter in Metropolis, Billy could hardly refuse, and he tried to remind his libido of that while he lay cradled in strong arms, warm against Knight Errant’s chest, watching the sun set and the lights come on all over his city.

He was close enough to hear the hero’s stomach growl, and they got sandwiches from a street cart to chomp on during the interview. After that, Knight Errant flew them to a small loft apartment on the edge of the industrial district, and Billy wandered around trying the faucets, fascinated by how normal it all was.

“My apartment’s off the record, right?” Knight Errant asked, with belated nervousness.

“Yeah, sure,” Billy laughed. “I protect my sources. So. You...get hungry?” Billy asked, watching him put away enough food for four people.

“I’m just a person,” Knight Errant muttered, wiping mustard off his chin. He’d taken his cape off, and pushed the onesie down to his waist. In the dim light of the city, he looked familiar, though Billy couldn’t place him—and attractive, the shadows on his abs and arms making him look like he’d been painted in chiaroscuro.

It felt like a date, was the thing.

“Search and rescue does have my number, or a way to get ahold of me, anyway.” Knight Errant sighed. “There’s nowhere in the outfit for a phone. I mean, it’d melt, anyway, first time I flew into a burning building,” he pointed out, and Billy nodded slowly, talking to a hero about his revealing costume, and wondering whether he’d been sucked into the Twilight Zone.

“There sure isn’t anywhere to hide anything,” he agreed, remembering.

“Sometimes I don’t help them,” Knight Errant confessed. “—but I can’t—I help where I can. I have to sleep too.”

“You sleep?” Billy asked, cocking his head at the shadowy king-sized bed in the corner. He wondered whether the moron had different-patterned footie pajamas to sleep in, possibly with sheep on them. And a woolly sheep cape.

“I sleep. I have a job,” the man sighed.

“Thanks for saving me from the lava,” Billy said, belatedly. “And I...probably would’ve been crushed by that bus.”

“Anytime,” the hero of Billy’s city said, stepping close with a grin. “You have to be more careful. I’d hate to lose my favorite reporter.”

“You talk to all the others already?” Billy asked, laughing, his heart pounding as he stepped closer.

“Nah. I know it’ll always be you,” the moron said, grinning with an incomprehensible mixture of mischief and sweetness, and Billy kissed him.

The next morning, Billy hitched a ride to work in the arms of his superhero. He took the time to straighten his jacket and tie after the wind, and found Harrington at his desk, holding a mug of coffee, his eyes huge and weird in the absurdly thick glasses.

“Had a good night?” he asked, smugly, and Billy shot him a suspicious glare, and flipped him off.

Here’s the rest of my Harringrove (and everything else)

[vardasvapors]

DRUNK LIVEBLOG OF THE AKALLABETH BC I PROMISED @rose-of-the-bright-sea​

Uh unfortunately i’m not too drunk since once again my job was to bounce everyone once the party ended but uhhh it is early morning and i’m still not asleep and i did just spend 5 hours dancing and doing shots so...

ANYWAY: first scene of the Akallabeth, remember how the edain were the only Men who fought against morgoth in the war of wrath etc, and when morgoth was defeated the Evil Men who fought for him ran away and conquered all the Stupid Men who were still living in the middle earth area and these men’s lives sucked and were constantly attacked by orcs and monsters and they were dumb and wild and stuff. this explanation is like 20 kinds of LMAO NARRATIVES but also not like, in a lying way, just in a framing way.

otoh the edain got given a giant island in the middle of the ocean as a reward for fighting against morgoth and stuff, osse and aule and yavanna did it. (valar: ‘have an island way out in the sea’ elros: ‘SOUNDS LEGIT’). meanwhile the elves of ME are long-sufferingly granted permission to come to tol eressea because their lives kinda suck. the difference in the tone of the edain’s gift and the elves’ gift is totally not noticed by the narrator but the fact that avallone was build on the eastern edge of tol eressea where it could be seen from numenor is. lol.

there’s this super gorgeous entrancing description of how earendil burned super bright so that he shone night and day and the edain followed him over the calm enchanted sea until they found the island of numenor -- andor the land of gift, elenna that is starwards. however we all know all this incredible rich storytelling stuff isn’t important compared to the tiny scrap of smugness that can be wrung out of making elros hate earendil and/or elves, bc everyone knows that no character’s narrative matters except the feanorians’.

elves of ME also brought all the edain to numenor and elves of tol eressea gave the edain a ton of tools and gifts and stuff to help build their new nation, but you know it’s fun to headcanon elros as a bitter chest-puffing supercilious self-satisfied little prick who finds these elves embarrassing and blinkered and their existence pitiful and tut-tuttingly Wrong. bc that makes sense and is woke for some reason.

the numenoreans became taller than all the sons of middle earth, not all the men of middle earth, so numenoreans are taller than elves. also they didn’t have a lot of kids, bc i guess population explosions on islands with almost no death outside of like 300 years of old age is a Bad Time.

also “and the light of their eyes was like the bright stars” hahahahahahahahaha lmao! kill me! lies down. does not get up.

WHITE TREE FRACTALS

the numenoreans are super cool and get to talk and visit with both elves of tol eressea and elves of middle earth, which seems to lead to the completely inescapable conclusion that numenor is a place where the peoples of all lands can pass messages to one another but this is never mentioned. the numenoreans could totally also have prob defeated the evil human kings of middle earth if they tried but they were totes peaceful -- at an undefined point in time. nice vague timeline blurring bruh.

instead they like, instructed the dumb middle earth men on how to grow grain and grind flour and make stuff out of wood bc uh i guess the middle earth men are too dumb to figure it out, for “the ordering of their life, such as it might be in the lands of swift death and little bliss” hahahahahaha this is the most condescending line in the entire silm it’s great.

then the numenoreans start getting dissatisfied with how they still gotta die and stuff. it’s vaguely described as being something to do with how even their long lives are still not as long as elves’ loves, but every time i read this it reminds me how pissed about mortality i’d be if my great-great-great-uncle who was totally allowed to choose to become immortal kept popping in to talk about how he got to see the cool millennia of my country’s history first hand and debate with my revered ancestral founding king. so.

however the numenoreans totally brush over these sorts of super compelling and sympathetic and valid points and instead just whine about how they’re A Bigshot Kewl Superior Race and HDU Say We Can’t Control Everything If We Wanna, 36 Presents? But Last Century I Got 37! because they’re fucking useless dumbasses.

The valar reply that Aman Will Not Make You Immortal, Yo, and also that elves being immortal and men being mortal aren’t rewards or punishments, which are reasonable points. they then go on to go ‘TBH shouldn’t WE be the ones envying YOU bc you get to peace out of this clusterfuck world, huh, huh whaddaya think about that. also btw the whole mortality thing is some Secret Plan To Fight Inflation eru came up with, and none of us will know it until you and a bajillion generations of your descendants are all dead, lol!!!!’ THANKS VALAR. THAT’S REALLY HELPFUL. GREAT JOB OF ACTUALLY ADDRESSING ANYTHING THE NUMENOREANS ARE BOTHERED ABOUT. KUDOS. i love dumb gods.

the numenoreans are super dissatisfied but instead of anything constructive the king decides to hold his breath and throw a tantrum stay king until he’s totally senile and his son is old, bc of spite, then numenor gets divided into the king’s men and the faithful. the faithful are also bleh about death but assume that the valar have some kind of good reason for what they said, because um, reasons, i guess. no one says if the reasons are more mindless dogma or more a grounding and strengthening faith, but since numenoreans sound like RL humans to a tee it’s probably both. the king’s men aren’t skeptics tho -- they just conquer and enslave and colonize and steal from middle earth, bc ‘the west was denied to them.’ some fans find this to be a ‘yes, but--’ where it’s not the best thing to do but sympathetic and better than those un-nietzschean faithful. i’m gonna assume every single person who finds this nod-worthy is as White as sour cream.

later on Ar-Gimilzor bans the Faithful’s language, sends secret police or smth to find out everyone who is Faithful and forcibly remove them from their homes, relocate them to Romenna, and corral and watch them, call them and the elves of tol eressea spies, chase them out of numenor, and force the faithful leader’s sister to marry the king. some fans still somehow think this was a morally grey and understandable thing to do because secular-culturally-christian libs are vile and have never parsed a history book in their lives.

Tar-Palantir becomes king after being secretly taught Faithful stuff by his secretly faithful mom, but nothing he does to fix things helps and he eventually dies young from depression. His daughter Tar-Miriel becomes queen but her cousin Ar-Pharazon forces her to marry him and give him the kingship instead. exactly how this happened remains unexplained! Boo! I want more details. Anyway Pharazon is a Fragile Masculinity poster boy and when sauron starts causing trouble he decides he’s just gotta go capture him and bring him to numenor to show off and stroke his ego, bc he is an Heir Of Eärendil and Respect Meehhh!! God this guy sounds SO UNPLEASANTLY FAMILIAR DOESN’T HE EH. (parenthetically i am delighted beyond words at how absolutely bang-on it is that the King’s Men, both here and earlier with the convo with the Valar, totally Do Not Mention the fact that they’re heirs of Elros, not just Earendil, bc that would be super inconvenient to their vision of themselves and their mortality grievance!! lol!!! i love it!!!! god!!!!!!!! *fingers and thumb in a circle emoji*).

anyway sauron is super smart and an awesomesauce genre-savvy villain and way too good for pharazon and he flatters him and manipulates him into making him his councilor and convinces him that the valar are lying and and to worship morgoth and slaughter the faithful by sacrificing them on.....hm....altars....as rebels and as scapegoats for all numenor’s Problems(TM)....>_>....lmao tolkien can be really fucking dumb and scattered about his mythology and religion patchworking, and yet the wokeness-masturbating section of fandom is infinitely worse in the most predictable ways.

WHITE TREE FRACTALS (this time featuring bonus BAMF and Super Awesome And Lovable 21 Year Old Isildur......have i mentioned recently how much i hate peter jackson......)

anyway when Pharazon has a mid-life crisis about getting old sauron also convinces him he can become immortal by invading aman, which he should totally do bc The Strong Do What They Will And The Weak Bear What They Must (remember this is tragically admirable if flawed, because it’s defying fate!) and a super armament is built to invade aman and ar-Pharazon’s ex-bff Amandil who’s secretly friends with the Faithful freaks and makes secret plans to sail to valinor to beg the valar to do something and has his son elendil prepare to go to middle earth to see the elves who are hunkered down there doing.....uhhhhh???? probably hiding from numenorean conquest????

but anyway when pharazon invades aman and chases the elves out of tol eressea and then tirion, he has a Uh-Oh I Think This Was A Bad Idea feeling but can’t back down now so he lands ashore and camps out around tirion and then manwe prays to eru to bail everyone out and says he will lay down rule of arda for a minute since he doesn’t know what to do, presumably a la ‘omg dad i fucked up and totally crashed your car,’ and eru solves this by getting ar-pharazon & co buried under a mountain until the end of the world (funny how so few fans ever address this thing re: tirion in valinor fanfic eh? oh yeah i forgot silm fans don’t give a shit about humans), opening up a big crack in the ocean, pulling aman and tol eressea out into space, turning the earth from flat to spherical, and letting the island of numenor get buried under the resulting tidal wave and fall down the crack to wherever. because you know overkill is great! also sauron is too busy doing an Evil Villain Laugh to realize he’s about to get drowned and he totally dies and has to make himself a new body out of Anger and he’s now ugly, which sucks for the fanartists.

anyway manwe saves elendil and his fleet (it doesn’t say manwe, but it does say ‘but the great wind took [elendil], wilder than any wind that Men had known, roaring from the west, and it swept his ships far away...’ which, duh) and they wind up washed up on middle earth, but totally grief-stricken over the destruction of numenor.

I can’t liveblog the rest any better than verbatim so I’ll just quote:

Among the Exiles many believed that the summit of the Meneltarma, the Pillar of Heaven, was not drowned for ever, but rose again above the waves, a lonely island lost in the great waters; for it had been a hallowed place, and even in the days of Sauron none had defiled it And some there were of the seed of Eärendil that afterwards sought for it, because it was said among loremasters that the far-sighted men of old could see from the Meneltarma a glimmer of the Deathless Land. For even after the ruin the hearts of the Dúnedain were still set westwards; and though they knew indeed that the world was changed, they said: 'Avallónë is vanished from the Earth and the Land of Aman is taken away, and in the world of this present darkness they cannot be found. Yet once they were, and therefore they still are, in true being and in the whole shape of the world as at first it was devised.'

For the Dúnedain held that even mortal Men, if so blessed, might look upon other times than those of their bodies' life; and they longed ever to escape from the shadows of their exile and to see in some fashion the light that dies not; for the sorrow of the thought of death had pursued them over the deeps of the sea. Thus it was that great mariners among them would still search the empty seas, hoping to come upon the Isle of Meneltarma, and there to see a vision of things that were. But they found it not. And those that sailed far came only to the new lands, and found them like to the old lands, and subject to death. And those that sailed furthest set but a girdle about the Earth and returned weary at last to the place of their beginning; and they said:

'All roads are now bent.'

Thus in after days, what by the voyages of ships, what by lore and star-craft, the kings of Men knew that the world was indeed made round, and yet the Eldar were permitted still to depart and to come to the Ancient West and to Avallónë, if they would. Therefore the loremasters of Men said that a Straight Road must still be, for those that were permitted to find it. And they taught that, while the new world fell away, the old road and the path of the memory of the West still went on, as it were a mighty bridge invisible that passed through the air of breath and of flight (which were bent now as the world was bent), and traversed Ilmen which flesh unaided cannot endure, until it came to Tol Eressëa, the Lonely Isle, and maybe even beyond, to Valinor, where the Valar still dwell and watch the unfolding of the story of the world. And tales and rumours arose along the shores of the sea concerning mariners and men forlorn upon the water who, by some fate or grace or favour of the Valar, had entered in upon the Straight Way and seen the face of the world sink below them, and so had come to the lamplit quays of Avallónë, or verily to the last beaches on the margin of Aman, and there had looked upon the White Mountain, dreadful and beautiful, before they died.

[imagineimuptonogood]

JugBug || Jughead J.

Word Count: 2266

Warnings: None:)

A/N: Riverdale is my newest obsession and obviously my favorite character is Jughead Jones. I’ve never read the comics but I’ve seen that there he is asexual, however, I’m pretty sure the show is changing him (AKA Bughead) and that’s how I want to write him. I’m sorry if that offends you, but come on, who doesn’t want a little fluff/smut from the mysterious closed-off hottie in the gray beanie? Also, I wrote this at 2 AM when I couldn’t sleep so if it is complete trash, let me know. I value you all comments unless it involves hate. :) 

Sidenote: Thank you to all of the people that followed me after Holy Trench Coat! I love you all so much and you are the best!

(gifs are not mine)

           It was Friday, the typical day that you rejoiced all your happiness because the week was finally over. You didn’t have to go to school, and you could sleep for as long as your mother allowed you to before she decides she needs to vacuum the house and wake you up.

           Normally, on Fridays, You would have a fantastic breakfast of waffles and bacon at Pop’s with a certain raven-haired boy as he typed and you drew, before you headed out to a prison that forced learning upon you. After you would serve your eight-hour sentence, you and sometimes Juggie, if he hadn’t already walked there, headed to Pop’s. Yes, you do interact with people on the way. It is a fair few and normally short conversations as your sarcastic humor is just not appreciated as much as it should be. 

           However, today is different. Your alarm casually didn’t go off and you were rudely awakened by a loud fist slamming into your door. Ever since you realized that your door had a lock on it, you made sure to use it and last night was no different. It definitely helped when your mother decided you didn’t need to sleep anymore.You thought you had fooled her but you were wrong and that was when she began to use the vacuum as punishment and to this day you can’t stand to look at that Dyson Dirt Devil. It even has devil in the name!

           Groaning, you stuck a pillow over your head trying to drown out the banging. After what felt like an hour, but was possibly only five minutes the knocking went away. A soft sigh left your lips as you snuggled deeper into your covers waiting for sleep to overtake you once more.

           However, you were sadly mistaken. The intruder did not go away and just as you were perfectly comfortable, your blanket was snatched off your body and the cold air from the AC unit blew goosebumps on your skin. Your eyes immediately sprung open and you sat up.

           The raven-haired boy didn’t even say anything, but as soon as you stood up his smug expression changed. You watched the smirk drop from his thin light pink lips and his brows furrow.

           “What the hell Juggie? How did you even get in?” Your eyes watched as his hand lifted to show the key that you had given him at the beginning of summer.

           “Oh, makes sense,” You concluded sitting up further as you were now wide awake. With your small hands balled into fists, you rubbed them against your eyes to make sure they were clean of any sleep gunk before letting out the most un-ladylike whale noise and stretching both your arms to the now invisible stars.

           “Is that my shirt?” Jughead’s voice brought you back to reality and you immediately stopped your daily routine of the infamous “whale stretch” and looked down. The old hunter green v-neck was big on you. Not too big to be over-sized, but enough so that if you stood up your lady-bits would be covered. It was your favorite shirt to sleep in. The softness of the tee was just right and if you were being 100% honest with yourself the only reason you started to wear it was because it smelled just like Jughead. Pinewood, Old Spice, and burger grease were now only a memory of scents since your mother decided to wash it after finding it on your floor one morning. Now, it was “blessed” by the scent of Gain Moonlight Breeze fabric softener and it came at a far second to the original. You still wore it, it made me feel closer to him.

           Heat rose to your cheeks. You didn’t ever expect him to see this shirt ever again, let alone you in it. “Uh, yeah. Maybe.”

           That seemed to break Jughead out of his trans he was in as his blue eyes raked over your figure. “That’s where it went.”

           Deciding to not let the moment get any more awkward than it already had, you broke the silence. “So, what are you doing here JugBug?”

           He winced at the nickname still not too fond of it, but for some reason he let you use it. “It’s Friday and you didn’t come into Pop’s this morning for waffles, so I knew something had to be wrong. However, I can see it was just laziness and you didn’t wake up to your alarm.” He smirked at her once more, dropping himself into her black computer chair that was to the left of her queen-sized bed. Her comforter laid abandoned on the ground in front of him.

           She rolled her eyes at him but smiled. “I apologize Juggie, I didn’t know my presence was of such importance to you.”

           This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. “It’s not.” Lies “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t the second person murdered in the crazy town.”

           Even though he meant it as a joke and deep down you knew it was one, your heart crack slightly. Having a crush on Jughead wasn’t easy. He didn’t often show affection, his sarcastic humor most of the time got the best of him, and you were almost completely sure he had no feelings for you what so ever. That didn’t stop you from loving him, though. You loved his humor, his style, his determination, his detective skills, his love of movies, honestly, there wasn’t anything you disliked about your Jugbug, except maybe his father and the way he always put himself down, as if he wasn’t that important in anyone’s life.

           “Ouch Jugbug, my heart, it hurts.” His lips twitched up in an almost smile and I wanted to do a victory dance.

           “Yeah, yeah. Now, get up. We have six more hours of torturing ourselves while listening to old bags droning on and on about subjects only half of us care or pretend to care about.” He stated getting up from his chair and throwing the comforter back at you.

           You groaned again falling back against your pillows and looking over at the clock. He was right, it was only ten AM. Your arm fell over your face in defeat. That was until a brilliant idea struck your brain. “I don’t think so Juggie. I’m going to sit this one out.”

           “You’re skipping?” He questioned stopping to lean against the door frame. You could almost feel his amused expression behind your arm that guarded your eyes.

           Dropping your arm back to the bed, you drug your glaring eyes to stare at him. “You act like I haven’t done it before.”

           He shrugged. “You haven’t done it in a while. But don’t let me stop your fun.”

           He went to walk away, but you called after him. “Are you just going to leave and go back to scision?”

           His head popped back into the doorway with confusion written across his face. “Scision?” 

           You smiled at him. “School-prison.”

           He raised his eyebrows clearly not impressed with the word. “Please, don’t ever combine two words again and try to make them into new ones. Or else I’m going to start calling you a River Vixen who says like every few sentences and the words ‘awesomesauce’ and or ‘tots fab’.”

           A smirk worked its way onto your lips. “Why not, that would just be amazeballs?”

           “Now you are trying to scar me.” He retorted walking back into your room and dropping his bag near the end of the bed. “But, yes I have to head back. Betty wanted to talk to me about something.”

           Jealousy popped in your veins thinking about Betty anywhere near your Jugbug. Yes, the three of you were friends, but lately, after Archie confessed to having no feelings for Betty what so ever, it seemed she was flirting with Jug any chance she could get and it irked you to no end. Jug was yours. Well, not really but still. She knew you had feelings for him, he’s supposed to be off limits.

           “So, you wouldn’t even stay if we watched this?” You slid your hand over to the nightstand and help up Pulp Fiction. You could see his conflict in his eyes. To go or not to go seemed to be the question.

           “And I might even pay to have Pop’s delivered in about an hour for lunch?” That was the cherry on top. You knew that Jug couldn’t resist free food. Especially cheeseburgers from Pop’s.

           “You had me at skipping.” He clarified dumping his dark brown coat on your chair and sliding off his shoes, before coming over to the other side of your bed and slipping under the recently thrown dark blue comforter. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized you were staring at him. “What are you waiting for? Put the movie in Sunshine.”

           Sunshine was his nickname for you. It had come about just after Jugbug. He definitely wasn’t a fan of your name for him so he decided to call you something that annoyed you. Secretly, you thought it was the cutest thing, but you weren’t about to tell him that so he would stop.

           Rolling your eyes, you stood up and put the movie into the DVD player before returning to the bed.

             During the whole movie, you couldn’t help but feel like someone was staring at you and after looking over at the raven-haired boy, you realized someone was: Jughead. It would happen every few minutes. You would start to feel as if someone is watching you and you’d slightly look to your right. Immediately Jughead was intensely staring at the movie screen. You swore the guy might get whiplash.

           But as the first movie was coming to a close, you caught him staring one more time. This time, however, he was staring at your body and when you looked over to ‘catch him’ he didn’t even seem to notice. 

           “Jugbug, what are you staring at?” You whispered, not sure you wanted to know the answer.

           His head immediately swung up to meet your eyes. Those bright blue orbs shined as they widened. He glanced back down for a brief second before he looked back up at you. “I like you wearing my clothes.”

           The room’s temperature soared and you felt your whole body flush. “W-what?” You weren’t usual the one to stutter, but hearing those words come from Jug’s mouth made you very flustered, very fast. 

           Suddenly, Jug leaned closer staring into your eyes as if he was searching for something. “Why do you like wearing my clothes?”

           “Because they remind me of you.” The truth just blurted out and it seemed to take the poor boy by surprise and he leaned back but continued to stare at you straight in the eyes. You decided since this moment was coming to a turning point of good or bad you would finally try something that had to do with your feelings.

           “Can I try something?” You whispered once more, this time you were the one leaning closer.

           Faintly, Jughead nodded and you took your moment.

           The blue spheres watched your every move with anticipation. He had been waiting for this moment since freshman year when he finally began to see you as more than just his best friend. He just never had the balls to do this himself. Plus, he didn’t want to ruin the friendship that you both shared with unrequited feelings.

           You closed your eyes as your lips fell onto his and in that moment, you kicked yourself for waiting this long. You’d always thought that his lips would be rough, chapped, maybe even cracked from all the frustrated biting and constant licking that he did to them when he was writing, but they were as soft as butter. Smooth, pink, lines molded onto yours and a moan was let loose. You couldn’t tell if it was from you or Jug, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was when your lips touched his, he only tensed for a second before wrapping one arm around your waist and the other cupping your cheek as he held your lips together. He tasted like peppermint mixed with chocolate and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

           The need for air was the only thing that broke you two apart.

           Sliding back from him, you licked your lips hoping to taste him just a second longer. You hadn’t realized it, but your body now sat on his lap straddling him as his arms encircled your waist.

           For a few seconds, no one said anything and you two just looked at each other. This time, however, it was Jughead who broke the silence. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that to happen.”

           “I have a pretty good idea.” You whispered causing him to smile. A real smile this time. You mirrored his expression as the two of you leaned your foreheads together and pressed your lips against each other’s one more time.

           His hands squeezed your hips in happiness while pressing you closer to him. “I really like you, Maya.” He whispered. His eyes were closed while his forehead laid against yours. Your chests were pressed together adding to the temperature of the room, but neither of you moved. At first, you thought it was just yours, but soon you concluded that his heart was beating just as wildly as yours.

           Bringing your hand up you caressed his cheek with your thumb. His bright blue eyes slowly fluttered open to stare into yours. “I really like you too Jugbug.”

[carpedmtranscripts]

Episode 1: Feast or Famine Transcript (wip)

[Intro music. Very boisterous, accordian music.]

Nate: So my name is Nate, I have been uh.. I’ve been dungeonmastering since I was eleven or twelve years old, when I was in seventh grade I got my dad’s copy of, uh, Advanced Dungeons and Dragons that I- no, nonono, it was Basic Adventurer’s set, I got AD&D from him later. I found it in his closet and played it with my friends and had a real great time and since then I’ve played GURPS, Shadowrun, Mazes and Monsters, Labrynth, uh, I playtested basic fantasy roleplaying game and I’ve played it a lot since then, uh, and I haven’t been a big fan of 2.0 to 4.0 but I did really like 5e and we are going to be playing fifth edition today which is a real fun game. So again, I’m Nate, I go by they, and I’ve got my three friends here today to play their characters and we’re going to hear from James first.

James: Uh, hi. I’m James, I’m 17, I’m the fucking.. Token non-American in the group. I’ve played [Nate: What’s America?].. Listen, [Nate: We’re in a fantasy world, there’s no America here.] Oh, yeah, and I’m the only one with an accent. Right.

James: I tried to [Nate: I have an accent.] get into Fourth edition D&D but it really just didn’t work cause it didn’t just.. I don’t know, it just didn’t feel good at all to play. Fifth edition feels way better and I’m getting way into it but I’ve really only played a couple of sessions, and I’ve got no characters higher than level three.

James: But, I’ve read the handbook like seven times, and I’m trusting Nate with this, sooo- [Nate: I don’t really know why you would do that, but.] Because you’ve played like twelve thousand different versions.

Nate: Uh, that’s true. And I don’t know how many of them- I’ve DMed in all of these systems at some point, and I don’t- except for Shadowrun, I’ve never done that, and I don’t, I would never want to. But I, uh-

James: Listen, my only experience with Shadowrun is the videogame, so you’ve  got more experience than me. 

Nate: I’ve never played that, but I have played two different Shadowrun characters. But I don’t really understand how that system works, I just played it with my group.

James: Well, either way, I am playing a moon elf named Lliana, who goes by they (Transcriptor note: Lliana also starts using she pronouns in the next episode, but is still nonbinary), I go by he or they, and I plan on being a wizard, my highest stats are dex and intelligence, and I’ve got fuckall strength and charisma. [Nate: *slight laughter* Awesomesauces.] I leave that one up to Roddy.

Nate: Alright, next let’s hear from Knives.

Knives: I’m Knives, and I’m 17, I go by it and he, (Transcriptor note: Knives primarily goes by he/him but also goes by it still on occasion) and I’ve played one campaign like years ago and it was 3.5 edition. [Nate: Eugh] *small laugh* [Nate: I’m biased.] It was like, four years ago too, so I was like twelve. Geez. Um, anyway, my character is a copper dragonborn which means I have acid (??? STAS?), and her name is Dee, and she also uses they pronouns, too. And her highest are strength, dexterity, and constitution; her lowest is intelligence.

Nate: Gotcha, gotcha. And last of all, let’s hear from Roddy.

Roddy: Alright, hi. I’m Roddy, I’m 15, I go by he pronouns. I play a lot of Dungeons and Dragons, pretty much entirely fifth edition. I’ve also played some Call of Cthulu, which has sorta different stuff, but the same sort of premise. I literally have three campaigns going on right now counting this one, um, I’m playing a tiefling sorcerer, who I named Vigil. My highest stat is charisma at a rockin’ 17 and then my lowest are strength and wisdom tied, with a ten. 

Nate: Alright, alright. Uh, last thing, I wanna know how old everybody’s characters are. Rod, how old is your character?

Roddy: I am seven years old.

Nate: Seven? Wow, you’re real small. Knives, how old-

James: Did you de-age by two years? [assorted laughter from multiple people]

Roddy: I decided that since I’m tiny in real life, I’m gonna be small-

Nate: Y’know, it’s real funny, the base age for this campaign was supposed to be ten, [Roddy: I’m sorry,] but we have a seven-

James: No, you said around ten, you didn’t say we could only go up. [Roddy: I’m seven years old. (Knives is also laughing here)]

Nate: No nono, ten was the base age, you guys could be around there, but ten was supposed to be the [Roddy: I’m seven years old] average age.

Roddy: I’m seven years old.

James: Well, I’m twelve, so-

Knives: I’m three years old.

Nate: You’re twelve now? You were eleven before! [Roddy: Listen,]

James: Listen, Roddy’s gotten younger, I have to get older. 

Nate: Okay. Knives, how old are you? [Knives: I’m the only one that-]

Knives: Three. [Roddy: But that’s not time.]

Nate: Okay, good, good. We have a three year old, a seven year old, and a twelve year old.

Roddy: You can’t be three, three year olds can’t see!

Knives: But I’m a dragonborn!

Nate: It’s a dragonborn, dragonborns, they do actually- they are adults by... what,-

 Knives: Fifteen. [Nate: Fifteen?]

Knives: And, it says in the handbook that a three year old dragonborn [Nate: Yeah?] is basically exactly a ten year old human. 

Nate: Yeahyeahyeah that is true, it is true, three years is actually like ten for them-

Roddy: So you- so you’re, you’re ten in people years, and three in dragonborn [Knives: Yeah, basically] years?

Nate: In, in dragonborn years-

James: So ten in dragonborn years, [Nate: they’re like dog years] it’s like dog years.

Roddy: It is like dog years, exactly, I’m glad we’re all on the same page.

Nate: Exactly like dog years, but they spit acid.

Nate: Uh, in any case-

Knives: And I have acid resistance, 

Nate: /muttered/ I hate you so much. /end mutter/ In any case, we are- [Laughter from other people] We are ready to play our not video game now, is everybody excited? [Knives:Yep] Alright alright- [James: Hopefully this doesn’t go terribly.] So how do we play dungeons and dragons, anybody know?

James: No fucking idea. [Roddy: Uhhh.]

Nate: Alright, cool. [Roddy: Not a clue, not a clue.] In any case, uh, you three are orphans. Uh, you don’t live in an orphanarium. Unfortunately, you guys live out on the streets. Um, did you ever see the beginning of Fable 2? 

Knives: Nope.

Nate: No?

Roddy: You sent the link earlier but I was- [James: Yes, I’ve beaten that game like four times.]

Nate: It is basically the beginning of Fable 2. You live in a lush kinda, a nice kingdom. But uh, it’s very kinda, cockney, a little bit, where it’s kinda shitty. Things at the, uh, center of the city, are real nice, people have a lot of money. Out on the edges, things tend to be... Less nice. Uh, you guys live on the streets, they’re-y’know- very cobbled streets, very-lots of kind of shitty houses and derelict buildings, and you guys just kind of live wherever. Uh,

James: Nate, if you introduce a music box, I will know where this is leading. 

Nate: I- you already have the music bo- no, no. Um, [Slight laughter from? i cant tell laughs apart rip] you do live on the streets though, and on the streets you guys have a little, kind of, derelict bit of area that you call your own home. Maybe that’s an abandoned building, or uh, an old warehouse or something. Probably by the docks, I would think? But that’s up to you, you guys can live wherever you want, I don’t run your lives. 

Nate: Um, but you guys do live somewhere, and you live together- you’re orphans- and, y’know, there’s other orphans out there, there’s other street orphans. They’re- you’re definitely not the only street orphans in this city, uh, and uh- Oh! This is the city of Eltimoor by the way, you live in Eltimoor. And uh, you live in a much larger kingdom that is run by Eltimoor, is the, the major city of, of the Kingdom of Vellinium. 

Nate: Anyway. So, you guys live in Vellinium. And Eltimoor is the major city, you guys live on the streets, and you’re real small, you’re real sm- you’re three, seven, and twelve, as we’ve fully established. Uh, so. It is late fall right now, so it’s real cold, but it’s not like, super cold. You’re not dying. But you’re definitely having a bad time. You’re all bundled up pretty well. 

Nate: Dragonborn’s probably sitting better than anybody else, cause if I recall, dragonborn do tend to run hotter than other races?

Knives: Yeah.

Nate: So, you’re probably okay, uh, the moon elf here- you’re probably not having a great time. Uh, my tiefling friend- you actually definitely run hotter than everyone else, so you are probably TOTALLY fine. 

Roddy: When you said hotter than everyone else- [James: So I’M the only one getting fucked over by this?] [Nate: Yeah, actually-] When you said hotter than everyone else I winked in real life. 

Nate: Yeah, thanks. Okay, good, you’re welcome, you fucking- idiot child. Okay, [Roddy: *does the tch-tchk thing and, based off of Transcriptor’s experience, probably did fingerguns*] So, *laughs a bit*

Knives: I just wanna say, it’s really easy to get into the mood because I’m too lazy to turn off my cieling fan- it’s freezing in my room right now. 

Roddy: Okay, - [James: Oh, mine’s going fucking wild.] [assorted laughter]

Nate: So, it’s late afternoon. Uh, there’s a light kinda snowfall- I’m assuming your moon elf friend is bundled up real tight but the other two of you are probably, y’know, kind of okay. Wearing clothes, but nothing particularly special. 

Nate: And, uh, it’s late afternoon, light snowfall, sky is, y’know, it’s real grey. And you guys hear some noises coming from a couple of alleys over. Uh, I’m assuming, around this time of day, you’re heading back from whatever street-urchin-y kinds of things you do, panhandle for money or you try to pickpocket people- whatever it is y’know, horrible children do, to try to not starve to death. [Roddy: Whatever it is the kids these days are doing.] Whatever it is the kids are doing, trying to avoid horrible starvation.

Nate: Um, but, you hear some noises, y’know? You hear some laughter, some sticks being thrown against walls, y’know, general, kinda raucous. And uh, there’s other people around, there’s some shops, some kids. [Roddy: ??? 9:45 or so] There’s some people passing by.

Nate: And here, I’m gonna let you guys do whatever it is you wanna do! 

James: So, where the fuck are we?

Nate: You guys... You guys are in your alley, near where your little warehouse house is, that you live in. It’s an old, derelict kinda building, down by the docks, and it- it probably stored, like, boats or boating equipment at some point, but it hasn’t in a real long time. So it’s got a roof on it, and it’s got a big, open room. And inside- 

James: Are we the only people who live here?

Nate: Umm.... Do you want to be?

James: I mean, it just seems strange. I feel like we’ve got this warehouse here, why are we not sharing it with other orphans?

Nate: Do you- do you- okay, do you, well-

Roddy: I’m into that concept.

Nate: I mean, there’s no other orphans here now, but you guys can go- I don’t know, recruit orphans if you want.

[laughter] [Roddy:No rules-] [James: Join my orphan army!]

Roddy: No rules, just right, orphan warehouse.

Nate: Okay, y’know what, sure. This is, um, another orphan warehouse, there’s other orphans that live here. There’s-[Roddy: Like a chain?] there’s other orphans. This is a little, kind of um, [A bunch of laughter]

Knives: An orphan warehouse- [Roddy: Come on down to Orphan Warehouse.]

Nate: [Roddy: ] (im, theres so much happening here,,, 10:56. come back and do this part later. next starts around 11:00)

Nate: It’s a big building, there’s other orphans living there. And inside there’s plywood, and various woods, and boxes, and crates and things, sort of stacked to create individual rooms and whatnot, y’know? Everybody’s kinda got their little area, and some-some parts of it actually look okay, y’know. They’re pretty nice, some people’ve got some nice sort of things. And with the amount of you living there that there are, nobody really gets into too much trouble with each other.

Nate: You don’t really know everybody here particularly well. You guys are, y’know. You’ve lived here your whole live, but you’re children and there’s really no adult supervision here, like at all- at all. So I’m pretty sure, uh- Lliana, you haven’t lived here very long, if I recall?

James: Mhm. (note; said affirmingly)

Nate: Yeah, so you guys aren’t super familiar here, but you do know each other, you do know each other. And um, y’know, you’ve (??? 11:47 or so), it’s snowing. And you guys can go do whatever you want. What do you wanna do, as orphans? What do you wanna do here?

James: Uh, just a question- why am I babysitting the demon? [Roddy: (says something here, at 11:55 or so)]

Nate: You’re- you’re not, you don’t have to stay together.

Roddy: It’s just like real life, James.

Nate: I’m gonna tell you right now, you guys are standing in this building. There are a bunch of little rooms, not too many people here. There is, uh, there’s a little tiefling girl sitting over in her little corner, and she’s- she’s winding a music box- no, uh...

[assorted laughter]

Nate: Y’know what? She’s playing with a music box. It’s totally irrelevant, but she’s having a good time with her music box in the corner, uh, there’s a couple of elf children off in another corner, kind of reading a book together out loud. Um, there’s just some people loitering around. [Roddy: Aw. Good kids.][James: That’s all- boring shit.] Yep. And then, outside, there’s the fish market nearby, y’know, where people come to barter fish- cause you are near the docks.

Nate: And then there’s the boats, where the, the kinda militia resides, and uh, you guys are on the outskirts of the town. You can generally, at this point, you can tell me what you wanna do. What do you wanna do, as orphans?

James: Okay, what the fuck is in the city that I can go check out?

Nate: What do you wanna look for?

James: I don’t know! [some laughter] I don’t know what’s in the city!

Nate: It’s a major, capital city, dude, and y’know, just imagine a basic fantasy town with a castle in the middle, kind of a thing? Y’know, big tower? Uh, there’s probably a king or something in there, you don’t know- you’re like s-, you’re like twelve years old, you don’t know what’s here.

Knives: I have a question. [Nate: You definitely probably know there’s probably someone royal up there.]

Knives: If you had to estimate, how many orphans like live in the warehouse?

Nate. Mhm. If I had to estimate how many orphans live in the warehouse...

James: I don’t think Nate needs to estimate, they can just decide.

Knives: Oooh, I’m-How many orphans live there, not including us?

Nate: Including yourselves, there’s eighteen orphans. So there’s fifteen other orphans that live here, but they’re not all you would know.

James: So we do in fact have an orphan, a small orphan army? [Roddy: Good to know.]

Nate: You got an orphanarium out here, but, uh, there’s people-

Knives: Theoretically, could we overthrow the kingdom with this many orphans?

Nate: I don’t know, I- uh, probably not, actually, that’s not that many orphans, if you really think about it. [assorted laughter] They don’t have great stats.

James: (?? 14:03 or so)

Roddy: In the grand scheme of things...

Nate: In the grand scheme of things, I feel like I’ve killed a lot of orphans in other games, and I don’t think they’re pretty hardy.

Nate: Anyways, it’s up to you, what do you wanna do with your time, what do you wanna do with your day, what do you wanna do with your lives?

Roddy: Did you say that there was like, a ruckus outside?

Nate: Uhhh... It was not a ruckus, [Roddy: Or was it.] it was just kinda like the noise of people playing. Like children.

James: I wanna go check out the docks actually.

Roddy: (14:30 ????)

Nate: Alright, you wanna go see the docks?

James: I do in fact want to see the docks, you mentioned like... Boats, and [Nate: Okay.] militia.

Nate: Yeah, um. You guys are allowed to split up, and if you wanna go together, lemme know.

Knives: I’ll go together. [James: (??? 14:33) like ten,] [Roddy: We should all go together.]

James: I don’t think -splitting the party will get us killed.

Roddy: Yeah, if we encounter, like, a bug. (note; emphasis on bug)

Nate: You will not die in the intro mod as a level zero.

James: I don’t believe you. [assorted laughter]

Nate: I won’t lie, it’s possible, if you guys really screw up, I will fucking kill you.

James: I drown myself in the ocean. [Roddy: Okay.]

Nate: Okay, you die. Congratulations. [Roddy: Don’t do that.]

Nate: Roll a new character. Anyway, um, while James is doing that, let’s- no, no

[laughter]

Roddy: Rest in peace.

Nate: You can continue to be your character, you’re not drowned, shut up. Get out of the water. Um, you go down to the docks! And, down at the docks you see big ships, like, a ton of them, y’know, there’s fifteen to twenty ships out here, they’re loading things, you’ve got people pulling fish on, you’ve got fishermen boats, you’ve got people loading cargo ships.

Nate: You’ve got some people kinda milling around, like they’re waiting to get on passenger ships. You’ve got lots of militia-looking, guard-type people kinda marching around, keeping an eye on things. There’s some rats scurrying around, y’know. General shipyard nonsense.

James: Is there- are there people shipping any sort of food?

Nate: Uh... I don’t know, there’s a bunch of crates.

James: Can I make a perception check to find out? [Roddy: (says something, 15:58 around)

Nate: Yeah, go ahead. Make me a perception check.

James: Oh shit, what was my perception.

Nate: I don’t know.

Roddy: (smthn) plus zero.

Nate: It’s gonna be, uh- [James: Oh, wait a second.]

James: Plus four.

Nate: You don’t have it, uh, remember you’re level zero so you don’t have any, uh,

James: Elves naturally have proficiency in it. (note: talking about perception proficiency)

Nate: Well, ok, yeah [Roddy: I have a pet mouse?] racial- you don’t have a pet mouse.

Roddy: Excu- Yeah I do, it says I do!

Nate: Where- where does it say you have a pet mouse?

Roddy: I have an urchin background because that’s what I just put in, I think that’s what gave me a pet mouse. [Knives(softly): Oh shit.]

Nate: Are you serious? [James: Fuck me sideways.]

James: I rolled a ten.

Nate: Are you serious right now- [James: Yeah he does, I think he does in fact have a pet mouse.]

Roddy: I definitely have a pet mouse, I can send you a picture [Nate: Wait- hold up-].

Knives: It’s in the handbook. If you have an urchin background- [Nate: Does urchin say pet mouse specifically?] Yep. A pet mouse.

Nate: Do you want a- [Roddy: I- I’m very into this.] [Knives: A full sized map of the city,] Okay, y’know what, sure- [Knives: a pet mouse,] Take your mouse. [Knives: a token to remember your parents by,] [Roddy: Aw daaang.] [Knives: Clothes, and a belt pouch containing 10 gp.] Uh, what is this? Does this pet mouse- is it, like, linked to you psychically, can you (something 17:00 or so) of it?

Roddy: I don’t think so. I think it’s just a pet. [James: It’s just a pet.] [Nate: (smthn)] [Knives: It’s a pet mouse.] [James: It’s not a familiar, Nate.]

Nate: Okay- don’t try to get this mouse to go do anything,-

Roddy: Oh yeah, absolutely not. It’s a- it’s a trinket, if nothing else.

[time note; 17:14 around]