#unscrupulous merchants

[spicygoblin13]

THE FUNNIEST WORD IVE EVER SEEN: A SAGA

I was with my boyfriend and I needed to google something, and we stumbled apon the funniest sentence i've ever seen from google in my LIFE

wtf is unscrupulous you ask? it means immoral and without care. it is a real word. i had to dig deeper, and boy did it get worse

THERE ARE SCRUPLES???

me and my boyfriend then spent the next 10 minutes trying to use this word in various sentances and variations of the original word (the word made no sense after saying it 100 times)

[byz-was-here]

Chapters: 28/? Fandom: Bionicle - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hewkii/Macku (Bionicle), Takua & The Chronicler's Company, The Chronicler's Company & Turaga Metru, The Chronicler's Company & Toa Nuva Characters: Takua | Takanuva (Bionicle), Kapura (Bionicle), Macku (Bionicle), Tamaru (Bionicle), Hafu (Bionicle), Taipu (Bionicle), Kopeke (Bionicle), Jaller (Bionicle), Matoro (Bionicle), Turaga (Bionicle), Hewkii (Bionicle), Nuparu (Bionicle), Kongu (Bionicle), Hahli (Bionicle), Toa Nuva (Bionicle), Bohrok-Kal (Bionicle) Additional Tags: Bionicle G1, Mata Nui (Island), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, The Turaga have some explaining to do, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Jaller deserves a vacation, Trans Tamaru (Bionicle), Taipu is a cinnamon roll, Nonverbal Kopeke, Pohatu: he's everyone's friend, Treespeak/Chutespeak, Kongu's accent is nigh incomprehensible., Now slightly more beta read, Vakama has the gift of prophesy and it's everyone's problem Summary:

So, how'd the bohrok-kal find out where the suvas where, anyway?

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Knights of St. Kazvarin

There's pious and selfless devotion, and then there's whatever these weirdos have going on

Riding forth from their brooding fortress-abbey to do the will of a long dead holy man, these inscrutable warriors have long been the subject of rumour and suspicion. It's not an undeserved reputation, as apart from looting tombs for ancient relics or ominously observing the goings on of the common folk these forboding knights are most often acting as the hired muscle for unscrupulous nobles who have no regard for the legality or virtue of the orders they enforce.

Far more than mercenaries with a patina of piousness, the Knights use these contracts to fund a secret and sinister endeavour that they have undertaken for centuries.

Adventure Hooks:

While delving through a dungeon the party follow a trail of slain monsters to a gravely injured knight and his thoroughly overwhelmed young squire. The boy will introduce them as Tilaen and Ser Darrik respectively and ask for their aid in tending to his master's injuries, before the dour Knight chides him for speaking on his behalf and tells the party to be about their way. Ser Darrik wants no help from "the faithless" and is willing to use the last of his strength to get violent about it. If cooler heads prevail, the party will learn that the two were after a rare manuscript hidden somewhere within the dungeon, and the offer of collaboration might be explored. If the party don't help, they'll find the squire waiting for them at the dungeon's entrance, requesting their help to bury his master and guide him back to their order's abbey. It's only after a few days of travelling together will realize that Squire Tilaen is muchabused by his sect, and that steering the boy away or outright adopting him might be the real kindness.

Acting as a stern and imposing shadow to whatever asshole noble or callous merchant the party have recently pissed off, the towering and always helmed Ser Gelceiras has "Bossfight" written all over him. However when the adventure's final confrontation looms the party find him cleaning off his massive axe, his employer's head in a bloodsoaked bag waiting to be delivered to them. "We got what we wanted from him" he rumbles as he exits, " you can have what's left. no hard feelings."

Just a new threat encroaches on the settlement, a mace wielding bruiser in burnished armour rides up and pledges to fight alongside the party in its defence. Ser Portia's skill as a fighter is sorely needed, perhaps enough to overlook whatever agenda it is that drew her to the settlement in the first place. Shortly after the final battle is fought and the dust clears, the party will realize Portia is nowhere to be seen... having escaped sometime during the aftermath after inexplicably kidnapping one of the locals.

Background: Before he was a sacred corpse, Saint Kazvarin was a necromancer of great talent, having dedicated his life to the study of thanatology and the many loopholes around death. This earned him great renown and wealth in his day, amazing the masses with seances while charging the powerful dearly for cut-rate resurrections. He amassed generous patrons and fanatical followers, only to have it all fall apart when the Raven Queen took an interest.

Kazvarin had and constructed his own bootleg afterlife, a place where his most loyal followers would rest forever in glory before being called back in time of greatest need. Atleast that was the sales pitch, in reality the "saint" had stopped just short of lichdom delving into the shadow to create a demiplane where his own soul would reside undeminished after death, sustained by the faith of his followers as the realm hollowed them out.

Such villainy inevitably created it's own downfall in the form of a young woman who's family were taken in and exploited by Kazvarin's cult. Though her name was not recorded by history, she was marked by the Duskmaven for greatness when she swore to tear down the saint who would conquer death, years later succeeding along with some allies in not only killing the necromancer but cursing him with a most ironic fate. Denying him the afterlife he had so meticulously constructed, the raven queen cursed Kazvarin with reincarnation, forcing his soul to live out a new life where it would forget all he knew and be remade.

It would have been a perfect punishment had the Saint's followers not been so fanatical. Though their organization had been shattered by their "benevolent" leader's apparent assassination, the most loyal of his inner circle poured through his research, finding the spells nessisary to seek out his soul in its new vessel. Thereafter they engaged in a grim hunt, crossing the realms to ritually sacrifice the youth their leader had grown into and pulling free his undigested soul. This is the cycle Kazvarin's followers have been following for generations, spending decades hunting for signs of their leader's return before using murder and necromancy to forcibly deincarnate him. Thereafter Kazvarin has a few months or years to act freely before he is swallowed back up by the tide of souls and the hunt begins again

Future Adventures:

Though they begin as a comparatively minor oddity, the knights become a true threat to the campaign as soon as they figure out who Kazvarin's current incarnation is and manage to wrest his soul out. Ideally this should be someone the party knows, to make it all the more tragic that they were sacrificed to bring about the villain's return.

Though it is much deminished, Kazvarin's demiplane (called the Howling Basilica) still traps the souls of those who have sworn their lives to him, acting as a vault from which he can pull rank upon rank of shadow-maddened spirits to his bidding. His most loyal retainers are allowed to keep their skills and individuality while being deprived of their will, meaning he has a backlog of highly skilled Knights just waiting for new bodies to possess no matter how many times the party defeat them on the field. What's worse is that the saint still remembers how to manipulate people with the offer of offbrand immortality, and will likely begin reaching out to powerful individuals shorty after his return.

Art 1

Art 2

[whencyclopedia]

Pirate Havens in the Golden Age of Piracy

The buccaneers who roamed the Spanish Main and the pirates who plundered the Caribbean and the Indian Ocean during the Golden Age of Piracy (1690-1730) needed a place of refuge where they could share out and enjoy their loot. Pirate havens like Port Royal on Jamaica, Tortuga on Hispaniola, and New Providence in the Bahamas provided safe harbours, the possibility to sell looted cargo to crooked traders, and were within easy reach of the main shipping routes. As the colonial authorities finally got a grip on piracy from 1720 onwards, so the pirate havens declined, many of them becoming a pirate’s very last port of call: the place of their execution.

The Lure of the Pirate Dens

Pirates needed safe harbours where they could hide from the authorities and share out their loot. Ideally, a base was close to the routes taken by merchant shipping, the pirates’ primary target, and, even better, close to a strait where these ships were obliged to navigate through. It also needed to be a place of refuge during the winter or storm season. Pirates needed to be able to repair their ships, and so a base with shallows was ideal as a vessel could be more easily careened. Such locations had the added advantage that large naval vessels could not easily access them.

The havens were a safe place for pirates to rest their weary sea legs and let their hair down. Here they quickly spent their ill-gotten loot on wine, women, and gambling. Pirates sold captured cargoes to unscrupulous dealers who had set up business in the various pirate havens in the Caribbean and the Indian Ocean. The dealers were on to a good thing since they acquired goods at a much cheaper rate than from legitimate merchant vessels in any other port, and the pirates were happy enough to get their cash, even if they were obliged to sell at a price much below the real value. The dealers then smuggled their dubious goods into legitimate ports where it was sold through the channels it would have reached if the pirates had not interrupted the trade process.

Pirates struck deals with corrupt colonial officials if they could, getting a better price for their plunder than they would have in a haven. Perhaps the most infamous of the rotten governors was Charles Eden, governor of North Carolina, who gave such notorious and unrepentant pirates as Edward Teach (aka Blackbeard, d. 1718) and Stede Bonnet (d. 1718) pardons, even allowing the former to establish a pirate base at Ocracoke Island. Another infamous governor who fenced loot for pirates was Colonel Benjamin Fletcher in New York before his dismissal in 1698.

Continue reading...

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

HELLO!!

IMAGINE IF DONNA SEES ANOTHER VILLAGER FLIRTING WITH THE READER AND SHE GETS EXTREMELY JEALOUS? Like, the villager is being a creep and Donna scares him away. Then, she brings the reader straight back home and fucks her until she can only think of Donna and nothing else.

And then there is some happy cuddles at the end :D

Yess!!! Here it is!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

You belong to me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: smut, jealousy, possessive Donna, slightly dark themes, fluff

Word count: 4,463

Summary:  You are hers, and she wants you to remember it

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! Yes, two requests in one day, I had a day off, so I could do it :))) I love you all!!!

“To the village, to the village! Let's go to the village!” Angie hummed, while you and Donna walked slowly through the forest, already seeing the wooden gate that delimited the Beneviento lands.

“For Gods’ sake, Donna, make her shut up...” You sighed through your teeth, shaking the hand of the woman in black, who laughed half-heartedly.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N), but I'm afraid you brought this on yourself,” the woman in black said, whispering, letting her words get confused with the wind.

“Me?” You asked, pointing to yourself and stopping walking.

“Who has the idea of going shopping to the village?” The woman asked, with a certain tone of pride. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“It was my idea, but...” You started to say, frowning.

“So, Angie being overexcited is because of you,” Donna said, gently pulling your hand so you walked next to her.

“Come on, Donna... It would be really good for us to take a walk around the village,” you sighed, making the woman stop and look at you through her horrible black veil.

“I don't know why,” she complained again.

You sighed and rolled your eyes for the third time in that short walk.

Your romance with one of the village Lords was going great. After meeting the mysterious Donna Beneviento, you knew that there was no place in the world that wasn't next to her, at least for you. To really get to know her took you a lot of time, to understand her feelings, her frustrations, her fears... But you did it, and you didn't regret it at all. You loved her and she loved you. You didn't need anything else, you didn't want anything else.

“Stop complaining, tesoro...” You said in a mocking tone, emphasizing that word which she used to address you.

“Are you making fun of me?” She asked, knowing it was on purpose. Well, that was your intention.

“Yes,” you said without any problem, moving forward and slightly lifting her veil so you could steal a kiss from her, one of those stolen kisses that drove you crazy, and you suspected that her too.

Donna sighed, unable to contain the urge to caress your cheek gently. It was a romantic moment, one of those moments that you loved, in silence, just looking at each other. Too bad you weren't alone in that forest.

“Hey! Hey!” Angie shouted, trying to separate you when the kisses returned, slow, affectionate... “Stop doing that, now!”

“Angie,” you growled, covering your lover's face again and clenching your fists tightly.

“Forgive me, I'm nervous,” Donna said, taking your hand again and gently stroking it with her thumb. “I haven't been to the village for a long time.”

“Don't worry, I'm with you,” you said, turning to continue walking, before she once again pitied you enough to go back home.

Fortunately, there were not many people. It's not like you were taking a walk either. Shopping was a priority and, to be honest, you didn't really want to explain things to your old acquaintances either. You knew your relationship was known, but you hadn't had the chance to check out their reactions to it. It was better that way.

“But what do my eyes see...” a familiar and sarcastic voice said. The Duke, a greedy unscrupulous merchant, the only bastion of commerce in the village, laughed with pleasure when you approached his usual stall. It was very strange not to see that man in his carriage.

“Hi, Duke, how is everything going?” You said with a kind smile. You got along quite well.

“Great, Miss, (Y/N). Lady Beneviento, it is an honor to see you in my humble store,” – the man said, bowing to show respect. You knew it was just courtesy; he could be as powerful as any of the Lords.

“Do you call this a store?” Angie mocked, in Donna's arms, speaking for her. Poor woman, she will never lose the habit of speaking through the devilish puppet. Even having kissed you, she had a hard time letting you hear her real voice.

“Well, I sell things so... Yes, it's a store,” the man responded, politely, rubbing his hands.

“Do you have fabrics?” Angie asked, along with an impatient sigh from her owner.

“The best fabrics for you, Lady Beneviento,” the merchant replied.

You looked at the sky, knowing that this transaction was going to take a while. Donna was very meticulous with her work. She was not going to choose the first fabric that was offered to her. A familiar smell reached your nostrils.

“Chestnuts...” You said, licking your lips, searching with your eyes closed for the source of that aroma. You soon located it. Mrs. Ionut, that adorable old woman, continued doing what she liked best, and what you liked best.

“Donna, give me a moment,” you said, putting a hand on her shoulder while your girlfriend checked the quality of some fabrics.

“Mm?” She murmured quietly, without looking at you.

“I'm going to go get some roasted chestnuts if you don't mind,” you said in a friendly tone, rubbing your hands due to the cold. “With this cold they will be very handy.”

A mourning hand grabbed your wrist almost immediately.

“Are you going to leave me alone?” Donna asked, making sure that no one but you was listening to her.

“No, no, no,” you said, taking her hand to loosen her grip on your dress. “It will only be a moment, and I will be right there.”

The lady in black let you go and nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” you said as you paid the old woman, delaying your return to that boring fabric display for a bit.

Leaning against a small wall, you looked around, letting the memories of your childhood in the village make you a bit nostalgic, just a bit.

“I can't believe it... (Y/N)?” a voice behind you said, startling you. A young boy, your same age, jumped over that small wall, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips.

“Oh, hello Adrian...” You murmured half-heartedly. Yes, you knew him, unfortunately.

“Wow, wow, wow... You've grown a lot, huh?” the boy said, leaning next to you, too close.

“It's what people do, grow,” you said disinterested. At that moment you wanted to see fabrics with Donna more than talking to your old school friend.

“People? You are still a person?” He asked with a mocking tone and a smile that made you chill.

“I don't know,” you said with the same sarcastic tone. It was not enough for Adrian to understand that you wanted him to disappear.

“Do you know what I don't know? Where have you been all this time,” he said, giving you a nasty elbow that made you clench your teeth tightly.

“That's none of your business,” you whispered, putting the rest of the chestnuts in your bag.

“Wow, I think it is. They say you go around with strange company now,” he said, pretending to speak in a low voice.

“Don't tell me,” you sighed, looking for Donna with your eyes.

“It is said that you have gotten into bed with Lady Beneviento... You couldn't settle for a simple villager, could you? You always had very high expectations...” The boy said, making your face turn red with shame and anger.

“You're right, that's why I never wanted to have nothing to do with you,” you commented, being as direct as possible.

“Oh, come on, don't talk to me that way, we were good friends, do you remember?” The young man insisted, wearing down your patience more and more.

“I try to forget about traumas,” you said, separating yourself from the wall and ready to leave. His rough hand grabbed your wrist, dragging you next to him again.

“Wait, wait, where are you going so fast?” He whispered in a tone that made you want to vomit.

“I have more important things to do, Adrian.”

“Oh really? Hey, is that true?” He asked not wanting to let you go. Your patience had been exhausted for a long time.

“What is true?”

“You already know… Lady Beneviento is freaking crazy. It must be exhausting putting up with a woman like that, right?” He said in your ear, making you immediately push him away and grab his handkerchief.

“Say that again, you piece of shit, and I swear I'll give you such a kick right in the balls that you are going to see all the stars in the Universe,” you threatened. Your words only made his smile grow.

“I'm just saying what they say out there,” he said, with his hands in a position of surrender. You shook your head, stopping the growing desire of your fist to crash into his face.

“Why don't you go to stalk someone else?” You asked, crossing your arms and turning around again. This time his grip went directly to your waist. You tried to break away, but you couldn't.

“Come on, come on, (Y/N)... You and I don’t have to repress feelings...” He said disgustingly in your ear, making you gag.

“Hey, let me go,” you protested, putting your hands on his chest to push him away. It was useless. He was much stronger than you.

“Stop denying yourself what you feel...” Adrian whispered in that disgusting tone again, getting closer and closer to you. “Let me show you that I… What?”

His gaze was lost behind your shoulders, which made you free yourself from his grip.

“A, mo, mo, mo mo...” He stammered, pale with fear of something you couldn't see. “A monster!” He screeched with a high-pitched voice as he hurriedly fled through the orchards.

You laughed satisfied, knowing it wasn't a coincidence. When you turned around, Donna, with the doll in her arms, was there.

“Oh, thank goodness...” You said, with a hand on your chest, approaching her “Thank you for getting rid of him. I guess now Adrian will think twice before...”

“Shut up,” Donna said, interrupting you abruptly, unpleasantly, something unlike her.

You made an effort to say something, but you were quite confused by that attitude.

“Let's go home,” she said next, grabbing your hand even tighter than Adrian, dragging you through the snow while you tried not to trip.

“Hey, hey, Donna, what's wrong with you?” You asked, pulling her to let you go, making you almost fall into the snow.

She didn't respond, she took your hand again in a more abrupt way and dragged you through the forest until you reached the old estate again.

“Come in,” she said, opening the door and pushing you inside. You were confused and you weren't going to deny it, a bit scared.

“What’s wrong, Donna? What is all this about?” You asked, rubbing your sore hand.

The lady in black removed the veil from her face, revealing an expression of deep pain, of uncontrollable anger that you didn’t understand.

“What are you about, (Y/N)? Do you think you can laugh at me?” Donna asked, her entire body trembling, her knuckles white as she pressed them on either side of her hips.

“What? Donna, come on, calm down,” you said, thinking it could be a crisis, that her head had chosen a bad moment to destabilize, something that happened less and less frequently.

“Don't play dumb...” She hissed, getting dangerously close to you. “I saw what you did with that boy.”

“Oh, yes, pure love...” You said ironically, laughing, crossing your arms and shaking your head, incredulously.

“Does it seem fun to you? You flirt with a boy in front of me, and you laugh?” She asked with her eye wide open, breathing faster and faster. “Sei una cagna…”

Faced with that insult, your body acted alone, slapping the face of the woman in black with a look of pride.

“What the…?” She hissed with a hand on her cheek, looking at you with a hatred you had never seen before.

“I'm sorry, Donna. I’ve understood you. You’ve insulted me for no reason and that has offended me,” you explained, without leaving aside that cocky tone. You were sure the brunette weren't right.

Donna shifted in place, looking for an answer or a punishment for such audacity. In its place, her face relaxed and lowered her head, pursing her lips.

“I'm sorry, it was inappropriate. I shouldn't have insulted you,” she said with a low voice, unable to recognize that she had made a mistake.

“Well, well...” You said, looking at your nails coldly. “Apologies accepted.”

Donna nodded, shaking her head and grabbing you by the shoulders as you were about to leave.

“Don't you think you owe me an apology too?” She asked with that dangerous tone again. You stood frozen in place, grimacing tiredly.

“Why do I have to apologize? I haven't done anything,” you said with a frown and your hands outstretched as a sign of ignorance.

“I think you have, (Y/N), you have broken your word,” she said, cornering you against a wall.

“My word? What are you talking about? Donna... My love, you are very nervous... Let me prepare something for you to relax...” You said with a more understanding tone.

“I don't want to relax!” She screamed, kicking the ground childishly, like a little girl who was having a tantrum. “I want you to explain to me why you were flirting with that stronzo!”

“Flirting? Oh, okay… okay… I think, I think you're wrong,” you said, laughing nervously, rubbing her arms so she would relax a bit.

“I know what I saw,” she murmured, pushing your hands away in the same unpleasant and abrupt manner. “That boy was... Groping you...”

“Do you think I wanted him to do it?” You asked, this time offended by that accusation.

“I don't know, (Y/N)... You promised me that only I could touch you, that I was the only person in your life!”

“You are! Damn it, Donna... Let's see... You can't be jealous of something that hasn't happened,” you said, controlling your nerves, the desire you had to beg forgiveness for something you hadn't done, the desire you had for your love  to believe you and come to her senses.

Her heavy breathing calmed down, but her eye still looked at you with hatred, with resentment. You took advantage of that small silence to bring your hands to her face, wiping away the tear that was running down her cheek.

“Donna, my love...” You whispered in a loving tone, trying to keep her gaze in yours. “That guy is an idiot… I have never felt anything for him in my life. Well yes, disgust. Nothing else, darling... You are the love of my life... I will never cheat on you, I promise you...”

She nodded, letting her forehead rest against yours. Her sobs and the tremors of her body told you that she didn't believe you.

“Seeing you next to that boy... I... It was horrible...” She whispered, well, she sobbed. You closed your eyes and kissed her forehead in understanding.

“It’s over, Donna. You’ve scared him, you’ve fought for me and you’ve won...” You said, bringing her head to rest on your shoulder.

Her embrace was almost desperate, pulling tightly at the fabric of your dress, as if she feared that if she didn't hug you tightly enough, she would lose you. It was always her biggest fear, losing you. You couldn't blame her for losing her mind over her only hell, a life without you.

“I want, I want you to be mine... Only mine, (Y/N)” she said, separating herself, her voice slightly dark.

“And I’m... I’m only yours,” you said, approaching her lips, kissing them tenderly until she kissed you back after a few confused and tense moments.

“No... No, it's not enough,” she said, shaking her head and breathing hard again. “I want you to think about me, only about me…”

That slightly different tone made you raise your eyebrows, not being able to stop your face from breaking into a mischievous smile.

“Oh, and how are you going to get that? My mind thinks about many things...” You whispered seductively in her ear, biting the lobe gently. Donna looked at you confused by your attitude, but she soon smiled in a similar way.

“After this, honey... It won't...” The lady in black whispered, running a finger along your neck, sending hundreds of electric shocks through your nervous system.

“Test me,” you hissed, biting your lip and leaning against the wall. Donna's smile widened even more, grabbing your hair and pulling it so she could kiss you again, this time in a hot, dominant way, something that was very rare to see from the lady in black. You were going to enjoy that.

The gasps didn't take long to come. Donna's hands and body against yours made clear her intention to not let you escape, to make you hers, to make your mind not think about anything else. She would never know but… She had already achieved it, a long time ago.

You moaned when, in the middle of that tangle of kisses and messy caresses, her thigh settled between yours, making you sway with a burning desire, wanting more and more contact.

“Look at you, (Y/N)... Are you anxious?” She asked mockingly, enjoying your erratic movements.

You nodded, not even letting her words cloud your desire, lunging at her neck to bite it, clawing at her back, hanging on to her as she laughed contentedly.

“Donna...” You moaned when the heat that the clothes gave you began to become unbearable. “Please…”

She pulled away and gaped at you. She couldn't help but have that tender look, although a dark shadow bathed her expression.

“Come,” she said, removing her leg and dragging you through the house toward the elevator.

The descent was slow, which led to the wild kisses continuing, your body clinging to hers almost desperately. Donna panted nervously, with the same eager desire as you, but this time she wasn't going to give up easily, somehow, she felt like she had to punish you somehow.

As her kisses deepened, her hand moved up your leg, scratching your skin, marking you like an animal making it clear what its territory was. You moaned at the sensation, beginning to unbutton her dress.

“Stay still,” Donna said to you, gently pushing you against the wall of the elevator. “I want you to really want it, (Y/N), I want you to want me...” She whispered in your ear, rubbing your underwear under your dress, running her finger over your already wet and hot folds. Apparently she found that amusing.

“I hope I caused this...” The lady in black said amused, increasing the intensity of her caresses between your legs, pressing your clit, but without putting her hand in your underwear, which made you moan in frustration.

“Yes, Donna...” You managed to say, closing your eyes from the pleasure that her simple touch caused in your body. “Please, do it to me now… Right here, I need you…”

“No, tesoro...” She said, shaking her head and removing the hand from your wetness. “That's not enough.”

“Please...” You begged pathetically, attacking her dress again. “I want you, only you…”

“Do you?” She asked, with a slightly kinder smile, but with a mocking tone, also revealing her own desire. “How much do you want me?”

“So much...” You sighed, putting your hand through her covered chest, letting out your desire in the form of soft caresses on her breasts through the black fabric. Donna closed her eyes and shook her head.

“No, no...” She said with an evil smile, removing your hand and putting it against the wall, making the entire cabin move. “How much do you want me? She asked again, against your lips, removing the soaked fabric of your underwear and caressing you inside, playing at your entrance, causing you to seriously tremble.

“So, so much...” You gasped, spreading your legs to give her more access, which she didn't take advantage of. No, she wasn't going to do it until you said what she wanted to hear. The situation was getting more and more exciting.

“Tell me, (Y/N), are you thinking about me?” She asked, stopping her caresses until she heard your answer.

You could only nod, moving so her hand slid further into your folds.

“Oh, and what are you thinking about?” Donna asked again, resuming her movements, making you moan again.

“I think, I think that I want you to fuck me...” You said with a gasp, noticing how the tip of her finger was brushing your entrance, just brushing it. That game was going to finish you.

“But how rude, (Y/N), you know I don't like when you talk like that,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Say it, tesoro.”

“What?” You asked confused.

“Say you're mine,” she said with a dark look, raising her free hand up your immobilized arm, leaving marks where her nails passed. “Say it and I may grant your wish.”

“Fuck…” You huffed, looking away from her and grabbing her wrist to push her hand right where you needed it. She frowned, but she let your hand guide her movements.

“What have you said?” She hissed arrogantly. You shook your head.

“I'm yours, Donna... Only yours. Only you can touch me, only you can... Oh, Gods, please...”  You stammered, moaning when she finally acceded to your wishes, inserting two fingers into your entrance, curling them right where she knew you couldn't resist.

“Shhh, that's it, good girl...” Donna said with a triumphant smile, looking for the most comfortable position for you.

She couldn't pretend she was that way, she just couldn't. Knowing that behind that strange game of domination a fragile heart hid, that Donna would give her own life rather than harm you, only increased your desire more.

Her hand moved slowly, but with intensity, making you enjoy every caress, every gasp that her lips emitted when she touched you that way.

“Oh, Donna,” you moaned, burying your head in her shoulder as she held you, while she made love to you in a different, strange way, but one that you would definitely want to repeat.

“That's it, say my name...” She said, increasing her speed, making your body almost destabilize. “Say it”

“Donna…”

“Who do you belong to, (Y/N)?” She asked, stopping just when your walls were ready to contract, just when your body was already preparing the best orgasm of your life. -Answer, or I won't continue!

“You, I’m yours! Please, I want, I want...”  You screamed, slapping her back comically, making her laugh softly as she continued to move inside you, making you finally, and after a gasp that surely traumatized Angie, manage to release yourself.

“(Y/N)...” Donna whispered, caressing your heated cheeks. “I love you…”

“I love you, Donna...” You said, throwing yourself into her arms innocently. “I will never love anyone else… I promise you.”

“I know,” she said, separating, with a confused look. “But I don't want to talk anymore. I think you have to do something for me.”

You nodded amused, tugging at her dress to pull her towards you as she awkwardly shifted out of the elevator.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, undressing completely and flopping onto the bed. She looked at your sweaty body and reached down to caress your legs, getting lost in the softness of your skin.

“Stay still,” she ordered you, to which you nodded.

Her hands went down to her dress, getting under it.

You stood stunned, watching as her underwear fell to her ankles, with her dress almost intact if it weren't for the buttons you managed to undo earlier.

“You're going to think only about me, (Y/N)... You're only going to see me... Nothing else, nor anyone else,” she said with a serious tone, almost growling because of the humidity that would surely be between her legs. With a movement similar to that a predator would make when hunting its prey, she climbed your body, kissing every part she found, every inch of your skin she ran over.

Her ascent up your body didn’t stop until, lifting her dress, Donna placed her knees on the mattress, on either side of your head. Just that sight was enough for you to discreetly lower your hand to an area that became moist again.

“Oh... (Y/N)” Donna moaned, covering you with her dress as your mouth made contact with her wetness. You had never done anything like this but, like that improvised act in the elevator, you would repeat.

Donna wasn't lying. In your eyes, in your touch, in your entire being, there was only her, her warmth, her wetness, the sweet smell of her arousal. You were hers, in that moment you were Donna, you were part of her.

Her hips moved slowly as your tongue struggled to cover everything within reach. The sensation of moaning against her body increased as your naughty hand was unfaithful to the lady in black, rubbing yourself as you enjoyed her taste.

It wasn't long before another indiscreet scream, followed by a word you didn't understand, filled the walls of the room.

Donna relaxed and moved away from you, finally getting rid of the annoying fabric of her dress and approaching you with a confused look, kissing you, tasting herself on your mouth.

Silence was necessary. Your breathing was agitated, your chest rose and fell rapidly, but it didn’t prevent you from hugging each other affectionately, from resting your head on her chest, now naked.

“Donna,” you said, with reason already recovered and with that unfortunate argument in mind. “About that boy, I don't…”

The brunette interrupted you with a soft kiss, her caresses touching your face.

“Don't say it, (Y/N)... I know, I... I'm so sorry,” she said with her head down, kissing your forehead and looking at you sincerely, tenderly.

“I promised you that I would be loyal to you and I plan to keep my promise,” you said seriously, sounding as sincere as possible. “I'm yours.”

“And I'm yours, (Y/N),” Donna said suddenly. “May Mother Miranda curse me if I dare to hurt you.”

“That's... Nice, I guess...” You said amused, earning a soft smack on her shoulder.

“I can't do it better,” she replied, lowering herself until she was level with your lips, smiling against them, rubbing her nose against yours.

“No? Well, I think what you did to me was pretty good,” you joked, raising and lowering your eyebrows. Her cheek turned red instantly.

“I, I guess,” she said, turning around to hide her embarrassment. You moved, leaning over her body and resting your head on her shoulder.

“Yes, besides, you have achieved your goal. I can't stop thinking about you...”

[clericofgale]

Spoilers for Patch 5 and the whole game.

I posted my thoughts about the new ending Gale got in patch 5 on Reddit first, but I might as well post it here with some revisions. I'll say it, I love the god Gale ending. But it is NOT his good ending to me. Before I would never have pursued it, but now it is tantalizing to say the least. I'm into it though Gale the mortal is still my preference.

"Gale Dekarios cuts a poor figure next to the wizarding prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep. You like so many things about me I'd have sooner discarded…"

By ascending Gale, you are killing Gale Dekarios. The nerd that hits on you in front of everyone while you're covered in zombie blood, procced to infodump an entire tangent to complement you, and yet somehow stick the landing to hit you with the most romantic poetry you've ever heard. A sensitive man who wears his emotions on his sleeve and wants to make the world a more beautiful place. An artist of the weave and a poet. The owner of the most overbearing tressym in the world. The moment the spell was complete, Gale Dekarios died and Gale the divine was born.

Even then, why is god Gale now so enticing to me unlike ascended Astarion? Because he loves you. He wants you by his side as an equal. It's actually sweet and romantic, just like all of Gale's romance is. I'm nothing if not a sucker for a romance.

"Follow my Lead" "Show me more. Show me it all." "I want you to seize the crown and make us a new world"

BeMyGod is the name in the data file for the boat scene where Gale asks you if you'll be with him when he seizes the crown. I know file names can be arbitrary, but if you agree to his proposal, you really are asking Gale to be your god. It's so easy to say yes. You're in the stars, Gale says I want to show you so much more, but it's not worth it without you. All you need to do is say yes. You're angry at Mystra who demanded so much of Gale, caused him such suffering and won't lift a finger to help. So You say yes. You love him. He loves you.

When Gale ascends, even in 6 months he is a different entity. The devs indicate: "His posture/demeanor here should feel slightly more aloof/detached than the regular Gale - he's been immortal for six months, his ego is as powerful as his magic. The real Gale's insecurities still lurk beneath his godlike confidence, as does his love for the player, but this is clearly a Gale setting out on a darker path."

The Gale here is a twisted version of the one we loved. His flaws are worse, he good traits have mostly disappeared. Namely his kindness and tolerance to deprecating humor. He no longer tolerates any perceived slight or jab. He doesn't let go of his bitterness towards Mystra. His ego is large yet fragile. You saw a glimpse of it at the ritual circle scene if you succeed in upstaging him in magic. Now it's only gotten worse. Yes even his insecurity. If you rejected him after accepting the proposal, Gale says this.

Tav: No, I think it's the end. What happened to the man I once loved? Gale: He's the god he deserves to be. I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I'm not good enough for you?

He's also lonelier than ever. His last 6 months were in isolation, with nobody he could trust while dealing with the crown and celestial politics. Immortals don't really have friends. They have allies and lovers. He stops talking to his mother who was so dear to him. He develops a spell to polymorph people into Tara, his oldest friend who rejects him after ascension. He then develops a spell that summons Shadowdark ale and forces people to dance and be happy, just like the vignette he told you about the Yawning Portal. The third spell is Power word: Ruin. he's finally back to speaking death into being with a single word, just like he used to.

Gale wanted to be a god to make a better world, but now he's a neutral god answering prayers from any alignment. He doesn't care if they are Thayan wizards aiming for lichdom or unscrupulous Amnian merchants. Ambition is a neutral idea. Ambition also drives healers to develop a cure. For adventurers to slay monsters.

What's the most noticeable remaining good trait in Gale? Gale still loves you. He's much nicer to you if romanced. He refuses to be with you if you don't go with him because he doesn't want to hurt you. He admires your good heart if you want to honor the pact with Raphael. He calls you my love just like before. He will fulfill the promise sealed that night in the astral sea. All you have to do is say yes. And the ascension cinematic is a callback to the romance scenes from before.

"Follow my lead. Close your eyes. I have so much more to show you."

And you know what. I'll go with you. Even if we will eventually lose both our humanity in our folly, and dreams become nightmares. Even if I'll come to regret that night when I said yes to the mortal you, I don't want you to be lonely. Where ever you go, I'll go. You'll always have me. And I'll always have you.

As God Gale would say… "A toast then, to our myriad ambitions. May we each get what we deserve."

[nightghoul381]

Ellis Twilight ~ Main Route Mad Love Epilogue + Letter

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: None

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

A few weeks ago, rumors started spreading that there was a shortage of people at various places due to a cold that was going around.

Medicines were in short supply and prices were soaring. Doctors saw long lines of patients every day.

In such a situation, the number of bad people selling fake medicines and trying to make money by posing as doctors increased—

Jude: “This ain’t gonna go that well, dammit.”

Unscrupulous merchant: “Yes… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

In a rundown suburban back alley, a man sold flour claiming it was medicine for the common cold—

The mission of punishing such a criminal was completed quickly in the morning.

Ellis: “There was nothing to do.”

Kate: “Yeah, that’s good… Ah Jude, if you step on him any more than that, his shoulder will…”

Jude: “Will it come off?”

Unscrupulous merchant: “Haaah! Please spare me!”

While Jude laughed at his screams, Ellis expertly tied up the man.

(…Huh?)

Looking around—I noticed a shabbily dressed boy peering timidly at us.

(Today’s mission isn’t something that would cause trouble if someone saw it, so I think it’s fine to just leave the kid alone…)

I was curious about what was going on and couldn’t help but go over to him.

Kate: “Is something wrong?”

Boy: “! Um, I need some medicine…”

The boy looked at the bound man.

When Ellis noticed what I was doing, he came over to me.

Ellis: “…Is someone sick?”

Boy: “My sister… but proper medicine is expensive and only available to the rich.”

Boy: “I can’t find it in any stores anymore… but I thought I might be able to buy some here.”

I exchanged looks with Ellis.

(It won’t do this child any favors to hide the truth…)

Kate: “You see…the medicine that was being sold here is fake.”

Boy: “Eh…”

When I told him the truth, the boy’s expression turned to despair.

(I wonder if she has serious symptoms… I want to do something.)

As I was thinking of a way to help, Ellis suddenly called out to the boy from beside me.

Ellis: “I don’t have any medicine, but I might be able to make something nutritious for you.”

Kate: “…!”

Boy: “…I don’t have any money. And my house is dirty. Is that okay?”

Ellis: “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Kate: “…I’ll go too.”

Ellis: “Kate, please go home with Jude. It would be terrible if you caught a cold.”

Kate: “That’s true for you too though, right?”

Ellis: “Yeah… but, if I get sick, I want you to take care of me.”

(…Oh…)

Ellis: “…right.”

--

Kate: “That’s what’s so amazing about Ellis…”

On the way back to the castle with Jude, I suddenly blurted that out.

Jude: “Even if ya help the one person ya see on a whim, it ain’t gonna fundamentally solve anythin’.”

Kate: “But, even if he can’t save everyone, if he can save just one person,”

Kate: “Thanks to Ellis, that person’s day will become a happy one.”

Kate: “I like that side of Ellis… I respect it.”

(Every time I learn more about you, Ellis… I fall more in love with you every second of every day.)

Kate: “I wish I could be that kind of person to Ellis…”

Just as I muttered that—

Postal worker with braids: “Aah! Kate~~…!”

Kate: “What!? What happened!?”

One of my coworkers from my days as a postal worker came running up to me, half in tears.

For some reason, there were three delivery bags hanging from his arm.

Postal worker with braids: “Five out of ten people in charge of deliveries today have fallen ill with the common cold~~!”

Kate: “Wha…!?”

(Oh, this is terrible…!)

Kate: “Jude, is it okay for me to go into town on my own now?”

Jude: “Ah? It’s been a month, so it’s fine.”

Kate: “Well then, please let the others at the Castle know!”

Kate: “Give me a bag… If we split up we’ll have this done in no time, it’ll be fine!”

Postal worker with braids: “Ahhh~~”

After checking the delivery addresses, I grabbed a delivery bag for the first time in a long while and ran off.

Jude: “…Heh.”

Jude: “Suits ya perfectly.”

--

Roger: “So, in the end, both of you caught the cold?”

Kate: “I’m sorry…”

Ellis: “Sorry, Roger.”

The next morning, we quickly came down with fevers and rushed to Roger’s lab.

(For symptoms to appear in just one day… this is a terrible cold…)

Roger: “Really… here you go, it’s easy. Drink this and rest up.”

Kate: “…medicine?”

Looking at the medicine that was tossed toward me, I stopped thinking for a moment and instinctively approached Roger.

Kate: “Where did you get this!? Its rare even if you search the whole town and everyone needs it…!”

Roger: “Jude had stocked up on a lot of substitute drugs.”

Roger: “It finally arrived yesterday, so it’s probably being sold all over London by now.”

Ellis | Kate: “!”

Roger: “Apparently, it’s being distributed at low prices to stamp out shoddy goods and fraudulent business practices.”

Roger: “The price of the original medicine will also go down.”

Roger: “I don’t know how he got it at such a low price, but the quality is guaranteed.”

Roger: “After all, I inspected it.”

Kate: “I see…!”

I’m amazed by Jude once again by his ability to solve the problem.

(It’s only natural that Ellis has been his assistant for so long.)

Ellis: “I wonder if it will get to that boy’s sister too?”

Kate: “Once you get over your cold, we’ll go and see how she’s doing.”

Roger: “Hey, you two, stop getting worked up, just be good kids and go to bed.”

--

At Roger’s urging, we quietly lay down on Ellis’ bed.

(The medicine has calmed my fatigue a bit, but my body still feels hot.)

Ellis, lying beside me, also had slightly watery eyes likely due to the fever.

Kate: “I promised to take care of you… I’m sorry.”

Ellis: “… It’s because you worked hard helping to deliver the mail, right?”

Kate: “! How do you know that?”

Ellis: “I heard from Jude.”

Ellis: “I thought you must have been helping with deliveries late into the night, running here and there through crowds.”

As if he’d seen me, Ellis narrowed his eyes as if waiting for me to tell him he had the right answer.

Ellis: “I like how hard working you are, Kate.”

Kate: “…But I just keep spinning my wheels, falling, and getting injured.”

Ellis: “I like that about you too.”

Ellis: “Before you think about whether you can do it or not, you think about how you have get it done.”

Ellis: “When you feel like you have to do it, you’re already starting to move.”

Kate: “…even if you’re trying to encourage me, you’re praising me too much…”

My face was getting hotter, and not due to the fever from the cold.

When I tried to turn my face away, I was stopped by a hand gently cupping my cheek.

Ellis: “I’m not encouraging you… I’m confessing… Listen carefully.”

Ellis: “Every day, every second, I fall more in love with you.”

(…Ah.)

(Every time I learn more about you, Ellis… I fall more in love with you every second of every day.)

Kate: “I wish I could be that kind of person to you, Ellis…”

Yesterday, I felt like I had received an answer to the silly wish I’d muttered to myself.

Kate: “Ellis… How come you always seem to know the words I want to say?”

Ellis: “Fufu… Is that right?”

Kate: “That’s right…”

(Ellis… I bet you cooked delicious meals for that boy and his sister, and cleaned the house too.)

Even though we weren’t together at the time, I could easily picture my beloved Ellis.

I loved how Ellis was able to tell what I was doing and what I wanted to say.

It was because he loves me. When I thought that, my heart was overcome with emotion.

Kate: “…I fall more in love with you every day, so much that I think I might suffocate.”

Ellis: “Do you love me?”

Kate: “Yes…”

Ellis: “Then you can’t… Don’t die until I kill you.”

Our lips touched gently.

Our tongues, hotter and softer than usual because of the fever, entangled and our languid bodies pressed together.

Ellis: “What should I do when I get over my cold?”

Kate: “… I want to push you in a wheelchair…”

Ellis: “Huh? Ahh…ahaha, you still remember.”

Kate: “Nope… I just now remembered.”

Feeling dizzy from the fever and sleepiness, we pressed our foreheads together,

Just doing that seemed to ease the pain.

Kate: “With some smart maneuvering, I’ll make you like me even more, Ellis…”

Ellis: “Mmm… I’m looking forward to it.”

--Then, a few days later.

Kate: “Wah… sorry, there was a bump.”

Ellis: “Nah, it’s okay.”

(Ugh… I can’t turn the corner…!)

I was feeling much better now, and as promised, I pushed Ellis around in the wheelchair.

Smart maneuvering—although, what I’m doing is far from it.

Kate: “Hey, are there any tips or anything…?”

Ellis: “Hmm… I guess it’s like you loosen it up when you want to go fast, but tighten it up when you want to turn?”

(Gh…? What…?)

Kate: “This might be harder than driving it myself…”

(Ellis, you were really considerate.)

Maybe he’d practiced a lot before giving his brother a ride.

He said that he had failed many times to make a wheelchair before finally succeeding.

(You’re really amazing Ellis…)

As my respect and affection for him overflowed again, I heard Ellis let out a small laugh.

Kate: “What is it?”

Ellis: “I’m sorry… I’m just happy that you’re working so hard for me, Kate.”

Kate: “…!”

Even with my terrible navigating skills, he smiled happily.

Every time Ellis laughed, my love for him grew even more…

(I might actually suffocate soon.)

Kate: “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Ellis: “Show me your happy face more clearly.”

I peered over at Ellis from behind the chair.

Kate: “…Like this?”

Ellis: “More.”

Kate: “More…?”

He pulled my face closer and I understood.

Kate: “…You weren’t trying to see my face were you?”

Ellis: “Was I found out?”

Ellis: “Kate, I want to kiss you.”

Kate: “…mmmnn”

Looking at him upside down, our lips met.

The feeling was strange and different from usual, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Another swell of happiness rose up and fell softly over my heart.

[bacchanal-if]

“Society is a masked ball, where everyone hides his real character, and reveals it by hiding.”

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

On the eve of your betrothal to an unscrupulous merchant you are presented with an opportunity you cannot refuse: admittance to the fabled Bacchanal. A night of costumed revelry awaits you at high society’s most anticipated underground ball of the season. Unburden yourself of every pretense, find a romance most real, and satisfy your lust. Can the sentiments endure when the masks are dropped?

Bacchanal is an interactive story about romancing the hidden depths of another, unobscured by layers of practiced charade. The year is 1742, set in an alternate Georgian London where all colors/genders/sexualities are treated equal and magic is subtle yet doubtlessly exists. When the masks are donned the façades are disrobed, and your world is suddenly filled with uninhibited characters. End up in the arms of a courtly charmer, flustered ingenue, mysterious rake, uninvited guest, loathed betrothed, childhood friend, or find yourself torn between them.

18+ filled with (optional but recommended) erotica.

Set your protagonist’s age, gender, pronouns, sexuality, and more.

Choose between a variety of masks, costumes, and enchantments.

6 gender selectable romance options.

Enter a romance with one of 4 masked figures in a love triangle/square where you must establish your final desire.

Entertain yourself with various encounters.

Explore a sexual relationship or remain chaste all the way.

Learn the shocking secrets of your friends, family, and acquaintances.

Marry or declare your independence.

❥ Characters of Interest

Preorder Information

This story is currently under development. By pre-ordering you will receive:

A discount. The pre-order is $3, while the final game will be $5 after release.

Access to the complete nsfw version of the game. The sfw version will be entirely free as a demo, but without sex scenes and other depravities―these will fade to black.

Access to the nsfw game wip and every update.

Access to the nsfw blog which contains spicy asks, drabbles, and art.

Exclusive nude portraits of Edith, Edward, Tamsin, and Thomas.

PLEASE NOTE: The current wip does not have any nsfw content yet. As such, it is currently the same as the demo.

[geraldofallon]

Fallen London Travel Guide:

Arbori Eastern Market

A discerning eye could find much of worth here. Unscrupulous merchants peddle trinkets and distractions for ludicrous prices. Near-Arbori, desperate for novelty, will usually pay.

[theespressooqueen]

I’ll protect you anyway

Drake stepped out of the room, his damp hair curling against his temples, a frown etched into his face. Mira hadn’t returned yet, and that nagging sense of unease was growing. He headed downstairs, scanning the tavern’s common area, where his drift and Mira’s squad were gathered.

“Mira?” he asked, his sharp eyes darting around.

Vince leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Not here. She left after we teased her a little too hard. You know, about you.”

Drake’s jaw tightened. “Where did she go?”

“Outside somewhere,” Vince replied, shrugging. “Didn’t say much.”

Drake turned to the tavern staff, his unease bleeding into his tone. “Did anyone see her? Where did she go?”

One of the staff members, a young woman cleaning glasses, nodded. “Yes, sir. She said she was heading to the market. Went off on her own.”

Drake’s frown deepened. Mira was fiercely independent, and while he admired that about her, the thought of her wandering alone in an unfamiliar town didn’t sit well with him. His mind raced with possibilities—Breavick was generally safe, but markets attracted all sorts of characters, including unscrupulous merchants from the Isle. He’d heard stories of those men using fragrances to lure women into dangerous situations.

Without another word, Drake strode out of the tavern, heading toward the market. The streets were bustling with activity—vendors shouting out prices, people bartering for goods, the scent of spices and roasted meats filling the air. His eyes scanned the crowd, his height giving him an advantage as he searched for Mira.

Just then, he saw her. Relief flooded him for a brief moment, but it was short-lived. Mira was standing near a stall, her expression distant, as though something was off. Drake’s sharp gaze zeroed in on the man beside her, his hand resting far too familiarly on her waist.

His vision darkened.

“Mira!” he called, his voice cutting through the noise.

She didn’t turn. Her eyes seemed unfocused, her posture stiff.

Drake didn’t hesitate. In three long strides, he was there. Before the man could react, Drake’s hand shot out, gripping him by the neck and slamming him against the wooden post of the stall. The vendor cried out in protest, but Drake ignored him, his attention solely on the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Drake growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The man sputtered, clawing at Drake’s iron grip. “I-I wasn’t doing anything! Let me go!”

Mira blinked, her dazed expression clearing as she turned toward the commotion. “Cordella?”

His gaze flicked to her, softening slightly, before returning to the man with a glare that could melt steel. “You touched her. Why?”

“I—I was just helping the pretty lady with the fragrances,” the man stammered, his voice trembling. “She seemed interested!”

Drake’s grip tightened. “She’s not interested in anything you’re selling.”

“Cordella,” Mira said sharply, stepping forward. “Let him go. I’m fine.”

His jaw clenched, but he released the man, who stumbled backward, coughing and clutching his neck.

“Get out of here, not just this market but out of Breavick” Drake barked. The man didn’t need to be told twice, disappearing into the crowd.

Mira crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell was that?”

“You didn’t look fine,” Drake shot back, his tone clipped. “And I don’t trust men like him.”

“I had it under control,” she insisted, though a faint blush colored her cheeks.

Drake exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You didn’t even hear me calling you. What was wrong?”

She hesitated, glancing at the stall. “I don’t know… something about the scent. It was overwhelming. It made my head feel… foggy.”

Drake’s expression hardened again, his suspicions confirmed. “That bastard was using Isle tricks. You’re lucky I found you.”

Mira bristled, her independence flaring. “I don’t need you to rescue me, Cordella. I can take care of myself.”

He stepped closer, his voice softening but his eyes intense. “I know you can, Mira. But I’ll protect you anyway. Always.”

Her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, the tension between them hung heavy. Finally, she sighed and nodded.

“Fine. Let’s just go,” she muttered, turning toward the market.

Drake followed closely behind, his hand resting lightly on her lower back—not possessive, but protective. He wasn’t taking any more chances.

-- --

The sun was high as Drake led Mira through the bustling market, his hand steady on her lower back, guiding her away from the crowd's chaos. Mira shot him a sideways glance, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Why did you come here alone?" Drake asked, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of annoyance. "You know this isn't Navarre."

She huffed, folding her arms. "I wanted to buy crackers and brie for Violet. She loves those."

"You should’ve asked me to come with you," Drake muttered.

Mira rolled her eyes. "I don’t need a bodyguard every time I step out, Cordella."

He smirked but didn’t respond, guiding her to a merchant selling the exact items she wanted. Mira picked up the crackers and a small wheel of brie, inspecting them before turning to the merchant.

"How much?" she asked, reaching for her coin pouch.

Before the merchant could respond, Drake had already handed over a pouch of coins.

"Wait—no!" Mira protested, holding out her own money.

The merchant, however, had already taken Drake's payment and bowed slightly. "Thank you, my lord."

Mira turned to Drake, her brow furrowed. "Cordella, I could’ve paid for that."

Drake shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "You didn’t have to."

Mira shot the merchant a look, but he avoided her gaze, clearly unwilling to contradict Drake. Huffing in frustration, she grabbed the bag with the crackers and cheese and started walking again.

The murmurs started as soon as they moved further into the market. Mira noticed people glancing their way, some whispering behind their hands.

"Why is everyone staring?" she asked under her breath, glancing around.

Drake smirked. "They’re curious."

"About what?"

"About you," he said simply.

Mira's steps faltered. "Me? Why?"

"They’re not used to seeing me with someone. And certainly not someone like you."

Mira felt heat rise to her cheeks. She stopped walking, putting two steps of distance between them to discourage any more assumptions.

Drake tsked audibly and closed the gap in two strides, his hand finding its place on her back again.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

He leaned closer, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Step away from me again, and I’ll carry you through the market. Do you want that kind of attention?"

Her eyes widened in alarm, and she glanced at the curious faces watching them. Huffing in defeat, she resumed walking, this time letting his hand remain where it was.

"You're insufferable," she muttered.

"You keep saying that," Drake replied, his tone light. "But you’re still here."

Mira bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She hated how he could disarm her with so little effort.

[sirenjose]

Analysis of Anne (Annie) Lester

Annie’s mother came from a “wealthy British family” (likely a merchant family based on Annie’s backstory), while her father was a “nameless painter”. He was likely Czech as Annie’s original backstory mentions being either born into a Czech family or growing up in the Czech Republic.

Whether or not she actually lived in the Czech Republic, her father fell in love with her mother (Wendy), who he apparently saw as his “muse”. Based on what he says to Annie later and how he wants her to be, he apparently loved/admired Wendy due to her “ladylike demeanor”/”lady’s bearing”, “talent”, and beauty, while Annie’s trailer also uses the words “dignified, decent, elegant”.

Wendy really looking forward to Annie’s birth based on the baby room and wooden toys that she purchased for Annie. Unfortunately, she dies on November 29th due to hemorrhaging during Annie’s birth.

Annie’s father is very upset over her death, and even more so due to his view that Annie failed to adequately replace her in terms of talent, beauty, personality, and behavior. Due to this viewpoint, he likely was very strict on Annie, who he likely attempted to train and educate her on how to properly act like a lady and everything else he saw as necessary to be a lady.

This left Annie only 1 hour of free time a day. Only 1 hour where she was allowed to be in the baby room and play with the toys all left by her mother. Only 1 hour where she was allowed to “be herself”. Annie was clearly unhappy over how her father was trying to make her act and behave. Annie loved her mother but she could not perfectly replace her. She was her own person, a person that wasn’t the sort of perfect lady her father wanted her to be. But she had no choice while she still lived with her father, who showed little to no love to Annie due to her continued failure to be ladylike enough to replace her mother. So she used that 1 hour to escape from reality into her own fantasy world.

1 of the toys in that room is said to be “wings for gliding” with it seeming like “its owner was planning an escape with limited materials available”. It is possible she wanted to use these to escape her father, but for now I’m assuming she built them as part of her fantasy rather than actually used them to escape, but it’s hard to know for sure.

As Annie grew up, suitors attempted to woo her, though they were not the good type as her backstory describes them as “unscrupulous womanizers hoping to live a carefree life supported by her riches”. This had to do with the fact that, after Wendy’s death, Annie stood to inherit “50% of her estate, including property assets, when she comes of age”. They weren’t the only ones interested in Annie’s inheritance, as her own father, who likely had no real love or care left for Annie after this long, likely decided this money was the only thing of value left regarding Annie.

1 of the suitors Annie meets feels to her to be the perfect man. Considering her trailer mentions “The beautiful flowers, the adoration of the crowd, a gorgeous dress, and a seemingly perfect fiancé” as well as used the word “grandeur”. This could mean she was forced to act like a noble lady, likely including attending parties, which is where she met all these suitors, including the one she fell in love with.

Based on the fact Annie in her deductions says “He seems to know me well. Most importantly, he accepts me despite my shortcomings”, it almost seems less like Annie was interested in marrying and instead simply sought someone who offered her real love with no strings attached. Someone who loved her for who she was rather than desired her to be someone she wasn’t and didn’t want to be. After growing up under a strict father who showed her little to no love, a man who refused to accept the way she wanted to be and only showed approval if she did what he wanted, Annie sought acceptance. But this need made her vulnerable, as right now she was said to be “kindest to those she trusted and was prepared to believe in them implicitly—at least, this is what she used to believe”.

The issue with this implicit trust was that the man she thought would be the one, the love of her life, was actually another liar and scammer. Based on Annie’s deduction 8, Annie’s fiancé had been working with Annie’s father to manipulate Annie into marrying her so they could get their hands on her inheritance.

Considering Annie’s father interest in her inheritance, and based on how Annie’s deduction 2 describes Annie’s father as a “nameless painter” managing to somehow marry into a “wealthy British family”, I wonder if Annie’s father never truly loved Wendy or Annie and only married Wendy due to her wealth, just like the suitors trying to marry Annie for her inheritance now. I wonder how long he’d been planning to steal Annie’s wealth, and if he’d been thinking about it even before Annie’s birth. I also wonder if Annie’s fiancé was actually a friend of her father’s, and that could be why he was able to work with him to attempt to steal Annie’s inheritance. From how Annie says her fiancé knows and accepts her for who she is, I wonder if Annie’s father could’ve told her fiancé about Annie and her desire to give her fiancé a better chance at winning her over.

Based on Annie’s deduction 9, it seems they succeeded in getting that 50% from her. One of her backstories mentions she did get married and had a miscarriage too. Whether or not that happened, after the 2 scammed Annie out of her inheritance, and without Annie’s father financing Annie at all, her financial status fell “under the poverty level”. She also was deeply hurt by the betrayal, and it was only than that she began to not implicitly trust everyone.

Based on Annie’s 1st letter, it seems due to her poverty, she was forced to temporarily live at “Holloway Nursing Home”. While there, the mention of hoping to bring “uplifting” news helps further confirm Annie was pretty depressed after what had happened to her. Her trailer uses the words “Deceived, Manipulated and discarded, Just like a toy”, so this is likely how she felt after the betrayal, while “imprisonment” is how she felt with her father.

In the CN version, it instead calls it the “Holloway Sanatorium Temporary Ward”. A “sanatorium” is a medical facility providing long-term care (usually for treatment for people with chronic illnesses). It is possible she was sent here after her “miscarriage”. On the other hand, Holloway Sanatorium is actually a real place in Surrey, England. It was said to be “for the care and treatment of the insane of the upper and middle classes”. This implies Annie was likely sent here for reasons tied to her mental or emotional state.

She is referenced to have some pretty severe anxiety during the games which she likely developed due to how she grew up under her strict father who didn’t show Annie any love, only seeing her as a failure her whole life, with her backstory implying he made her feel “worthless”.

Her anxiety likely also ties to her toys, as these toys were said to symbolize “comfort, family, and stability, and she only feels when she is around them”. This could imply she developed a kind of dependence on them, as she may have essentially used them as an emotional/mental crutch and tied them in her mind to her mother, who Annie knew had loved her despite never having the chance to meet her, even though her mother was gone. Without any of her toys or safe room, her mental state likely deteriorates to some degree.

Besides her anxiety, there’s also the outcome of Annie’s fiancé with her father betraying her and taking the inheritance from her mother. Annie’s emotional state isn’t described anywhere, but it likely isn’t hard to imagine how this likely affected her.

Annie already had developed feelings of low self-worth, insecurity, and a multitude of other issues due to how she grew up under her father. Then when she was betrayed by someone she felt might finally accept her for who she is, this further devastated her mental state. We know, despite how she grew up, that she still trusted to some degree, and was kind and implicitly believed those she trusted, but this was destroyed following the betrayal, and she likely developed trust issues (becoming more guarded and afterwards not opening up as easily). Besides this, she obviously would’ve felt deep emotional pain, heartbreak, and betrayal after what her fiancé and father did. Anger, sadness, confusion and loss would also be expected, as well as lower self-confidence and increased self-doubts and insecurity.

If Annie had been sent to a mental facility, this could imply she, at least for a time, had extreme emotional instability, and could’ve been shifting between emotions quite rapidly, from sorrow enough to cause her to cry uncontrollably, to panic attacks, or even intense anger. I imagine it had to have been enough to impair their ability to function or threatened their well-being for her to be put there. It’s also possible she experienced delusions or hallucinations due to her distress or deteriorated mental state. At the very least, panic attacks tied to her severe anxiety (which could also reasonably put her at risk of arm) are also fairly likely. She was likely sent to the mental facility to help her stabilize.

While she was there, before she’d stabilized but was recovering, she met Nicholas Oz, an attorney appointed by Wendy to inform her that Annie’s current status had activated a portion of the will Wendy left for Annie, which gave her a different 30% of Wendy’s estate as Wendy had made Annie her “designated inheritor”. This was a 30% that had “remained unrecorded” and had included “Madam Lester's foreign assets and assets entrusted to the care of her relatives and friends, all of which will be inherited by you”. Included in the items inherited by Annie is a “brand new children's wooden aircraft”, which could be the same one she uses in game (and may have been a real life, better version of the wings she’d built herself in the past).

I wonder if Wendy potentially knew a bit of the about how Annie’s father truly was and did all this in advance for this very kind of situation. Maybe that’s why there was a condition in her will that gave Annie 30% if Annie fell below the poverty level, which could imply Wendy had potentially foresaw this happening.

In any case, Annie (now definitely not living with her father if she hadn’t already escaped him before) used the money to build a toy shop (the objects that had helped her escape her miserable reality into a fantasy world where she had real freedom) and pursue her own desires. She also hoped her store would help bring happiness to other children and help grow their own fantasy worlds. Her toyshop is successful, and is said to have helped her regain her confidence. She vows to “get back what she deserves and her dignity”.

The last thing we know is she receives an anonymous letter that promises information on the “two scammers” (aka her father and fiancé who stole her inheritance) and so she decides to go.

[frithwontdie]

Historical Fun Facts #5

Did Y'all know, that jews were almost expelled from Union military districts in Kentucky, Tennessee and Mississippi during the American Civil War? Yes, it almost happened.

On December 17, 1862, Union General Ulysses S. Grant lashes out at Jewish cotton speculators, who he believed the driving force behind the black market for cotton. Which he was trying to surpress.

Grant was extremely angry about the unscrupulous activities of jewish profiteers who were undercutting Union efforts to suppress the black market in Southern cotton. After learning that his own father had teamed up with three Jewish traders from Cincinnati in a scheme to procure cotton at a discount, the general lashed out in anger, and issued General Order No. 11 expelling all Jews, which he issued from his headquarters at Oxford, Mississippi. Which this order expelled all jews from the territory he commanded, which was comprised of portions of Kentucky and Tennessee west of the Tennessee River, and Union-controlled areas of northern Mississippi, "within twenty-four hours from the receipt of this order."

Prussian-born Jewish immigrant Cesar J. Kaskel from Paducah Kentucky, received his later to leave his home and business behind. He telegrammed Lincoln on behalf of a group of Jewish merchants from Paducah, condemning the order as "the grossest violation of the Constitution and our rights as good citizens under it... [it would] place us...as outlaws before the world. We respectfully ask your immediate attention to this enormous outrage on all law and humanity....” Other telegrams were sent to President Lincoln from Chicago, New York and Philadelphia. This stirred the extremely powerful jews in the North to protest to President Abraham Lincoln, who promptly directed Grant to rescind the order. Then Grant later made an apology to the Jews.

Yet what Grant wrote in his General Order No. 11, speaking about how jews cared only about making a profit, and were dishonest and swindling every gentile that they did business with.

One recorded Example of shady dealings:

A swarm of Jews, within the last ten years, has settled in nearly every southern town, many of them men with no character, opening cheap clothing and trinket shops; ruining or driving out of business, many of the old retailers, and engaging in an unlawful trade with the simple negroes, which is found very profitable.

Here is the text of Grant's General Order No. 11. Judge for yourselves whether the activities of the jews seem familiar:

The Jews, as a class violating every regulation of trade established by the Treasury Department and also department orders, are hereby expelled from the Department [of the Tennessee] within twenty-four hours from the receipt of this order. Post commanders will see to it that all of this class of people [Jews] be furnished passes and required to leave, and any one returning after such notification will be arrested and held in confinement until an opportunity occurs of sending them out as prisoners, unless furnished with permit from headquarters. No passes will be given these people to visit headquarters for the purpose of making personal application of trade permits.

A military comrade, General James H. Wilson, later suggested that the order was related to Grant's difficulties with his own father, Jesse Root Grant. He recounted:

Quote:

"He [Jesse Grant] was close and greedy. He came down into Tennessee with a Jew trader that he wanted his son to help, and with whom he was going to share the profits. Grant refused to issue a permit and sent the Jew flying, prohibiting Jews from entering the line."

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Wifeplot #XXX: The Bell Of True Origins

The PIDW origin story (heh) of the pivotal artifact of my Scum Villain fic "on all my dying days (I swear)"!!! This is quite long, so the rest is under the cut <3

The Plot: The Bell of True Origins is a small bronze bell which, when rung, reverts the user in form to what they looked like when they experienced a turning point in their life, and brings them back to their current self once rung again

Specifically, it casts a mental manipulation spell on the user to subconsciously create a self-perpetuated illusion of that past self. This means that the illusion might not be a perfect recreation-- the illusion might be better-looking or thinner than they really were at that point. Or, if you're, say, Yue Qingyuan reconstructing what you felt like while qi deviating to death in a cave, even bloodier!

The Wife: Li Shuangjie is a non-cultivator whose younger twin sister (Shuangjue-- you can throw rocks at me for the name puns now) was killed was by some villainous rogue cultivator many years ago, and she's been hunting for revenge since

MANY years ago. Lsj is, at the LEAST, in her thirties, but I've been imagining her in her mid fifties. Battle between Airplane and pidw fans' perceptions of older women vs mine akdkfk

Lsj narrows in on this villain, finally, at just the time Bingge happens to roll into town. She befriends Bingge at an inn pub (he's undercover as a regular guy and is doing spywork for himself or something, idk). They hit it off, and Bingge is intrigued by how lsj clearly has something going on, though she won't share what. Lsj is drawn to him too, but she's too on-edge and too focused about being on the cusp of achieving vengeance to fall for his flirtations. (Yet)

Lsj comes across the Bell of True Origins-- I'm imagining an unscrupulous merchant pawning it off to her without explaining what it does besides it nominally being a cultivation tool-- and it reverts her to the dashing twentysomething year old she'd been when her sister was murdered

Lsj can't risk ringing the bell again, because to her knowledge this just deaged her by full decades, and she can't afford blipping herself out of existence, not now. But her efforts to find that shitty merchant again are unsuccessful, so her plan is now ruined; the rogue cultivator wouldn't have recognized her at her real age, but he'll definitely recognize her current appearance. She's devastated, and she goes back to that pub in abject shock and despair, at a loss for what else to do

Lsj meets Bingge again, who immediately recognizes her despite her looking oh so different, and she breaks down and confesses everything. Bingge valiantly swears to carry out her revenge instead, to lsj's astonishment

He indeed kills the villain and returns to lsj at her room in the inn (I'd say with the guy's severed head, but idk if Airplane can write romance like that)

At this point lsj has of course fallen madly in love with Bingge, and she tearfully tells him that he's done her a great service and there is nothing she can do to repay him

Obviously, Bingge proceeds to reveal that he's the Junshang and hits her with a few devastating come-ons, but lsj protests that this isn't her ~true~ self and he couldn't possibly want the real her

Bingge somehow produces the Bell of True Origins (he definitely murdered the guy who gave it to her) and solemnly tells her how it works, giving her the chance to use it on herself again

After great and serious contemplation, lsj decides to keep her young hot body, in the name of reliving the life she could not while hunting for her sister's murderer. She and Bingge immediately have sex. End of arc <333

This is widely seen as one of the more feminist wife acquisitions solely bc lsj is a milf and Bingge, gasp, even generously gave her the opportunity to keep looking the part!!!

Peerless Cucumber, of course, furiously reviled the arc for the ill-defined effects and unreasonable strength of the artifact, for stealing lsj's chance at the final blow against the man who ruined her life, and for lsj's personality doing a 180 as soon as she turned young again. But he did appreciate that Bingge and lsj actually spoke like companions before the arc devolved to papapa, and he thought her reasoning to stay young was actually pretty decent, even if it was obviously another sign of Airplane's lack of integrity 🙄

There was so much fanart and fanfiction about what the bell would do to Bingge. Hahahaha.

[ironwoman359]

A Thief's Gamble - Ch.8

Caught Red Handed

Prev: Ch.7 - A Dampened Pursuit || Next: Ch.9 - Every Cloud... Fic Masterpost

Fic Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Chapter Summary: Brynjolf and Ariene try to make time for one another, but before they're able to slip away, more than one crisis rears its head and gives them pause.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence, blood.

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Word Count: 4,323

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

— — — 

Brynjolf being a lieutenant for the Thieves Guild was the best worst-kept secret in Riften. A handful of the city’s wealthiest and most influential citizens knew all about his identity, as did its poorest and most unscrupulous inhabitants. Yet as far as Jarl Laila Law-Giver was concerned, he was just another merchant plying his trade in the city marketplace, and most everyday citizens thought he was nothing more than a peddler of, charitably, eccentric wares. 

This dichotomy was perfectly illustrated by the members of the town guard, half of whom were on his payroll and half of whom had no idea who he was. 

Of course, with their helmets obscuring their faces and muffling their voices, it was difficult to tell at a glance which guards were in on Brynjolf’s various schemes around town, so he had to keep a tight lid on communications.

“I didn’t know you lads could shop while on duty,” Brynjolf remarked casually to a guard who approached his stand in the market. 

The guard paused, and Brynjolf waited. Either the man would ignore him, bristle about being told how to behave by a citizen, or…

“If there’s a guards’ discount, I could be persuaded to buy,” he replied, and Brynjolf smiled. 

“Aye, it so happens there is,” he said, reaching beneath his counter to pull out a bottle. 

The guard dropped ten septims into Brynjolf’s hand, and Brynjolf passed the bottle to him. 

On the outside, the bottle was identical to all the others that Brynjolf sold. On the inside though, it was anything but. A rolled up scrap of paper was stuffed into the neck, and the guard would take it out later to find his instructions for the week scrawled on one side and a dead drop location that contained his next payment on the other. 

Brynjolf didn’t put too much stock in the other guards’ investigation skills, especially with Maven’s agent Anuriel keeping the other palace officials from spending any serious time hunting down the Guild, but it never hurt to be careful. Anuriel couldn’t be everywhere at once, and the last thing anybody needed was some rookie guard trying to prove himself and ratting on his fellow officers. 

Brynjolf passed instructions to two more guards throughout the rest of the afternoon, and sold a half dozen or so elixirs while he was at it. When the sun began to dip behind the roof of Mistveil Keep, he packed up his stall for the day and took the opportunity to visit some of the other local establishments. 

He dropped by the Pawned Prawn first, smirking when he saw the cracks in the Dwarven urn on display by the window. Once his business there was concluded he took a “delivery” to Haelga’s Bunkhouse. To an outside observer, he appeared to simply be doing regular errands at the end of the work day, but Bersi and Haelga were perfectly aware of his intentions. They each handed over that month’s protection money without a word of complaint, though if looks could kill, he’d be bleeding out on the bunkhouse floor.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile as he stepped back out into the cool evening air. A part of him had been worried that their newfound cooperation would be temporary, but for now at least, everything was back on track. And if they did ever lax in their payments again, he knew just who to send their way. 

Brynjolf rounded the corner of the Bee and Barb and there, standing at the edge of the market as though summoned by his thoughts, was Ariene. 

She’d traded her usual attire of Guild Armor and a quiver full of arrows for a short-sleeved blue dress and a belt lined with leather pouches. She’d even let some of her hair down from its ponytail, and she looked for all the world like any other townsperson running their errands for the day. She didn’t look quite like herself without her bow over her shoulder, but her orcish dagger still hung on her belt, the hilt of the weapon glinting in the last few rays of sunset.

She had a notebook in her hand and was talking to Marise, nodding and scribbling down something in response to what the dark elf said. She closed the book and slipped it into the pocket of her dress, then caught Brynjolf’s eye as she looked up. She smiled, bid Marise farewell and headed down the walkway towards him. 

“Fancy meeting you here, lass,” Brynjolf said as she approached. “I must say, you make a very convincing citizen.” 

Ariene looked down at herself, as though scrutinizing her own attire. 

“Do I? I admit, I’m not the most familiar with Skyrim’s fashion. It’s not too much, is it?” 

 Brynjolf tried to look at her as though she were a stranger to him, another mark out of dozens to be carefully scrutinized. 

The dress she wore wasn’t particularly ornate, but it was far from the plainest garment he’d seen the women of Riften wear. Delicate embroidery lined the dress’s hem, collar, and sleeve cuffs, telling Brynjolf that the wearer was someone who could afford more than simple necessities. However, the boots paired with the dress were well worn and caked in a layer of dirt and grime, she wore no jewelry, and her hairstyle was something she could accomplish easily on her own, without the help of a maid. All this told him that this was not a rich or noble woman in her day or travel ware, but a commoner wearing what was probably her best dress to market. 

Of course, Brynjolf had a pretty good idea of how much money Ariene had made with the Guild over the past month or so, and knew that she could have afforded even nicer clothing if she wished to have it. The fact that she wasn’t wearing more expensive clothes or her Guild armor told him that she wanted to be discreet, to blend into the crowd and not draw attention to herself. 

“It’s perfect,” Brynjolf said, nodding in approval. “Blue is your color, lass. Brings out your eyes.”  

Ariene’s cheeks flushed slightly, and Brynjolf grinned. 

“So,” he said. “What brings you out to the market at this hour? Most of the stalls are getting closed up for the evening.” 

“Actually, I was looking for you,” she said. “I thought we might have a drink at the Bee and Barb.” 

“A drink, eh?” Brynjolf repeated, raising an eyebrow playfully. “We could have a drink in the Flagon.”

“True,” Ariene acknowledged. She glanced around, then took a step closer.  “But I thought it’d be nice to have a little…privacy.” 

“Well then lass, by all means–” 

“Stop! Thief!”  

The marketplace exploded into pandemonium. Vendors shouted, shoppers screamed, and guards materialized seemingly out of nowhere, swarming towards the commotion like moths to a flame. Ariene had spun around to see where the shout had come from, and so she and Brynjolf both saw the exact moment that a figure wearing Guild armor burst into the center of the market, a guard hot on their heels. 

“Stop him!” the guard shouted again. 

The thief had a sword drawn, and Brynjolf’s stomach dropped when he realized that there was blood on the tip of the blade. Guards all around them drew their own weapons, and even as the thief raised his sword, Brynjolf knew it was over.

He glanced at Ariene, just in time to see her hand drift towards her dagger, but he caught her by the wrist. She looked up at him, frowning, but he just gave a small shake of his head. He didn’t need to speak. Looking back towards the fray, she knew as well as he did that there was nothing they could do. 

As soon as it had begun, the chaos was over, and guards were directing people away from the scene. Brynjolf took a breath and forced himself forward, Ariene falling into step behind him without a word. 

“Let me see him,” he said to the guard who tried to stop him as he stepped forward. He watched the man closely for a reaction to his presence, but there was no recognition in his posture. 

“We have this under control sir, please move along,” the guard said. 

“My father’s amulet was stolen last night,” Brynjolf insisted, the lie falling easily from his tongue. “At least let me see if it’s on the scoundrel.” 

The guard hesitated, but then he nodded and stepped back, allowing Brynjolf to kneel beside the dead man. He did his best to ignore the blood already pooling beneath the body and made a show of checking the man’s pockets, while discreetly checking under his hood as well. He caught sight of a pointed nose and a scraggly beard, and he bit back the sigh that welled in his chest. 

“Damn,” he said, getting to his feet. “The bastard doesn’t have it. This city is getting ridiculous, I tell you. Thieves in broad daylight now? Why can’t you lot do your jobs properly?”

“We have things handled here, sir,” the guard said, barely hiding his frustration. “You can move along now.”

“Come on dear,” Ariene said, pitching her voice a little higher than normal and tugging on Brynjolf’s arm. “We should go.”

“I have half a mind to complain to the jarl,” he called over his shoulder as he and Ariene walked away. 

“Very good, sir,” the guard said tiredly, and Brynjolf would have chuckled had the circumstances not been so grim. 

He tilted his head in the direction of the Temple of Mara, and Ariene nodded silently. They headed through the temple courtyard into the cemetery, ducking into the mausoleum when they were sure no one was there to see them. Brynjolf paused in front of the stone coffin, letting the haughtiness drop from his posture.

“Who was it?” Ariene asked quietly, and Brynjolf sighed. 

“No one that you know, lass. His name was Girrolf.”  

“Girrolf?” she repeated, and he nodded.

“Technically he’s not even one of us, not anymore. He was a new recruit a while back, before you joined up. He got caught on his first job and was sent to prison in Falkreath. Mercer didn’t think he was worth the risk to break out.” 

“So what, he broke out on his own?” Ariene asked, but Brynjolf shook his head. 

“I doubt it. The lad didn’t have that kind of skill. To be honest, he wasn’t as well suited to our line of work as he thought he was, but I’d hoped with some training, he’d improve.” 

Mercer had not shared that opinion, and Brynjolf had endured weeks of not so subtle digs about his recruiting tactics once Girrolf had ended up in jail. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“If I had to guess, the lad’s sentence was up and he was released. He must have thought that if he came back to us with a good haul, he’d be brought back into the fold.” 

“But he got caught again,” Ariene mused. “And instead of running, he tried to fight his way out.” 

“Which is a surefire way to just create more trouble,” Brynjolf said. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Something I’d have thought you’d know, lass.” 

Ariene folded her arms, raising her own eyebrow right back. 

“You didn’t need to hold me back, you know,” she said. “My brain would have caught up with my body before I did something drastic. It was just…” she trailed off, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. 

“Just what?” Brynjolf prompted. 

“Instinct.” She shook her head. “And look, I did know better than to get involved back there. In my father’s crew, if someone ever had any trouble with the guard, it was their problem and their problem alone. Why risk your entire organization over one fool who can’t even handle a minor scuffle with the law?”

“It sounds like your father and Mercer would get along,” Brynjolf observed, and Ariene chuckled ruefully. 

“You’re probably right. Gods know they’ve both got a mean streak, not to mention an ego that could fill a room.” 

She fell silent, but the thoughtful expression didn’t leave her face, and Brynjolf decided to press his luck. 

“What’s bothering you, lass?” he asked softly.

“It’s just…my father’s rule didn’t always stop people from jumping to their friends’ defense if things got ugly. For some, personal loyalty ran deeper than any adherence to my father’s rules.” 

Brynjolf nodded, eventually prompting her to continue with a quiet “And?” 

“And…I was never one of those people,” Ariene said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “Every man for himself; it was the one rule my father had that I didn’t have trouble following. Even after I got away from him, I just…lived my life like that. Looking out for myself and only myself, and running whenever the heat got to be too much.”

Brynjolf thought back to that day he’d confronted her in the training room, to the distant look in her eyes and the slump in her shoulders when she’d said: 

“It seems no matter where I run to, I find something else to add to the long list of things I’m running from.” 

“But back there?” Ariene said, pulling him back to the present. “I didn’t even know who it was, but I saw the Guild armor, and my instinct was to draw my blade.” She pulled her dagger out of its sheath, looking down at it curiously. “I don’t even have my bow with me, but my first thought was to fight, not run.”  

“I wanted to fight too, you know,” Brynjolf said quietly. “Every part of me wanted to rush into the fray and pull that fool out. Despite Mercer’s cold streak, we try to have each other’s backs whenever we can.” 

“I know,” Ariene said. “And I know why tonight, we couldn’t. It’s just…never mind.” She shook herself, and gave him what was probably meant to be a smile, though it came out more like a grimace. “Let’s go downstairs. Probably best to let everyone know what happened.”

Brynjolf nodded.

“It’s not a good night to be hitting the streets wearing Guild armor, that’s for sure.” 

He activated the secret entrance, then stepped back to let Ariene descend the ladder first. He followed her down, and his boots barely touched the stone below before an angry and all too familiar voice rang out across the room. 

“There you are!” 

Brynjolf turned to see Mercer stalking towards him, a look of death in his eyes. 

“Mercer,” he said. “Something happened–” 

“We have a lead on the Goldenglow buyer.” 

Brynjolf immediately straightened, pushing what happened in the market aside in his mind for later. 

“Someone identified the symbol?” he asked. 

“No,” Mercer growled, clearly put out by the failure. “But the contact I spoke with did identify something else. The name on the Goldenglow bill of sale, Gajul-Lei? It’s one of Gulum-Ei’s old aliases.” 

Brynjolf’s eyes widened. 

“Gulum-Ei’s mixed up in all this? That Argonian couldn't find his tail with both hands.” 

“Who’s Gulum-Ei?” Ariene asked, and Brynjolf jumped. The lass had been so still that he hadn’t realized she was still in the entryway. 

“Gulum-Ei is our inside man at the East Empire Company in Solitude,” Mercer explained. “I'm betting he acted as a go-between for the sale of Goldenglow Estate and that he can finger our buyer. I want you to get out there, shake him down and see what you come up with.” 

Ariene frowned.

“Just so we’re clear, you’re asking me to do that?” she said. 

“Who else would I be asking?” Mercer snapped. “You leave tonight. I’ve already arranged a wagon for you; it’s waiting at the stables.” 

He turned and stalked away without another word, and Ariene glanced back at Brynjolf.

“He’s in a good mood,” she muttered. 

“Just this once, I can’t blame him,” Brynjolf admitted. “We’ve been trying to get a lead on this for weeks.” 

“Well, I guess I need to pack a bag,” she said with a sigh.

She flashed him a small smile, then she turned and headed off towards the Ragged Flagon. Brynjolf watched her go for a moment, then turned his attention back to the matter at hand. 

“Mercer,” he called, stepping up to the Guildmaster’s desk. 

Mercer looked up at him as he approached, and his frown deepened into an outright scowl. 

“I won’t have my methods questioned, Brynjolf. You were the one who was so determined to convince me that the girl would be a good investment; now that she’s proven her worth I see no reason not to make use of her skills. Besides, she’s already tangled up in this mess. She may as well be the one to dig us out.”

Brynjolf blinked. 

“Eh, I actually wanted to give you a report on something that happened in the market tonight,” he said, folding his arms. “I’ve got no problem with you giving the lass the assignment.” 

Not strictly a lie; he was glad that Mercer seemed to finally consider Ariene a trustworthy operative. The insistence that she leave immediately when it could take anywhere between three days to a whole week just to get to Solitude was frustrating, and in his mind, a bit unnecessary. But Mercer was in one of his moods, so the last thing Brynjolf wanted to do was point that out to him and start another argument.

Mercer grunted, but didn’t say anything else, gesturing instead for Brynjolf to continue. 

“There was an…incident,” he began, then he went on to describe Girrolf’s failed attempt at burglary and subsequent death. 

“You’re supposed to have the guards under control, Brynjolf,” Mercer snapped when his story was finished, and Brynjolf grimaced. 

“We don’t have the funds to buy off all of them,” he replied. “And besides, Girrolf fought back, in the middle of the street surrounded by witnesses. Even the guards we do have sway over would have to defend themselves in a situation like that.” 

“I knew that lout wasn’t cut out for this,” Mercer muttered.

Brynjolf wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. Even if he thought Mercer was being overly harsh, he couldn’t deny that the lad had brought his fate down on himself. 

“I’ll speak with Maven,” Mercer continued. “Maybe she can use her resources to redirect the Jarl’s attention. Let everyone know to keep off the streets in the meantime. Hopefully the heat will die down in a few days and we can get back to work.” 

Brynjolf nodded and turned, but Mercer spoke up before he could make his exit. 

“Remember what I told you about attachments, Brynjolf.” 

Brynjolf frowned, looking back at him. 

“Excuse me?”

Mercer just raised an eyebrow. 

“Do you honestly think the rumors about the two of you somehow wouldn’t reach me?”

Brynjolf fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Last I checked, we were running a Guild, not a gossip chain,” he said, and Mercer scoffed.

“Last I checked, the Guild’s first lieutenant needed to keep himself free from distractions.” 

“Why is everyone suddenly so interested in how I spend my spare time?” Brynjolf demanded. “I don’t need your permission any more than I need Vekel’s, Guildmaster or no.” 

“True, and as far as I’m concerned, you can bed whoever you damn well please when you’re off the job,” Mercer growled. “As long as you’re able to keep your priorities in line.” 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Brynjolf asked, crossing his arms. “The Guild will always come first, Mercer. I shouldn’t need to tell you that.”  

The two glared at each other for a moment, but then, to Brynjolf’s surprise, Mercer sighed and nodded his head. 

“You’re right, of course. And you’ve done nothing that gives me any real reason to think otherwise.” 

“Damn right I haven’t,” Brynjolf said with a huff. “So why the sudden scrutiny?”

Mercer glanced around the room, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. 

“It’s just that the last time a member of Guild leadership got involved with a subordinate? It didn’t exactly go well. That’s not something I’m eager to revisit anytime soon.”

Brynjolf winced. He had to admit, the comparison wasn’t entirely without merit. He could imagine how a strong willed, quick witted, and highly skilled thief like Ariene, who used a bow as her main weapon on top of it all, would give Mercer some bad memories.

He hadn’t known Karliah as well as he’d known Gallus; if he was honest, he’d felt a bit intimidated by the Dunmer when he was a young footpad. Still, it’d been plain even to him how much both Gallus and Mercer had admired and cared for her, which only made her betrayal sting all the more in the end. 

“This won’t end like that,” he said quietly, but Mercer just raised an eyebrow.

“And you can guarantee that, can you? Listen, like I said. Bed whoever you want, I can’t stop you. Just keep what I’ve said in mind. Men like us, we aren’t meant for the softer things in life.” 

“Whatever you say,” Brynjolf muttered, turning away. 

He scanned the cistern, and he knew from the way every Guildmember in the room became very absorbed in what they were doing the moment he laid eyes on them that this conversation would be all over the Guild by morning. 

Fine, let the footpads talk. It didn’t make any difference to him, as long as everyone still did their jobs. 

He approached Rune, who in his estimation would be least likely to indulge in any gossipping. 

“The streets are hot tonight, and probably will be for a few days,” he told the lad. “Everyone should lay low down here until things calm down a bit topside. Spread the word, and if anyone has work in other holds, they shouldn't wear guild armor until they leave the city.”

Rune nodded, and Brynjolf cast another glance around the cistern.

“Ariene went through towards the Flagon,” Rune offered in an overly casual voice. “Just in case you were wondering.”

Brynjolf looked back at him, raising an eyebrow, and Rune blinked a few times, holding his eyes wide open. They stood frozen for a moment, staring at each other, then Brynjolf finally laughed. 

“The innocent look doesn’t suit you lad,” he said, shaking his head. “Play to your strengths and stick to picking pockets.” 

“Whatever you say, boss,” Rune called after him, and Brynjolf chuckled as he walked away. 

Sure, the other Guildmembers could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but in their own strange way, they were all a family. He knew Mercer had his reasons for keeping things close to the chest, but that didn’t mean the rest of them had to live like that.

True to Rune’s word, he found Ariene sitting at a table in the Ragged Flagon, a new quiver of arrows and a pack of supplies at her feet. She was still in civilian clothes, though she’d pulled a thick travel cloak over her dress, and her bow was once again strapped across her body. 

She looked up as he approached, and nodded to the empty chair across from her. There was a drink and a small plate of bread and cheese sitting there for him, and Brynjolf smiled. 

“Sorry it’s not the meal that I’d hoped we’d have tonight,” she said as Brynjolf sat down and took a grateful sip of the ale.

“Don’t worry about it, lass,” he said, waving off her concern. “Vekel’s cooking hasn’t killed me yet.” 

“Don’t tempt me!” Vekel called from across the room, and Ariene snorted. 

“Have everything you need, lass?” Brynjolf asked, gesturing to her supplies, and she nodded.

“I think so. I have to say, I’d planned on avoiding Solitude, what with it being the site of the Imperial headquarters in Skyrim and all. But I doubt anyone that far north will be concerned about a border runner, what with the war in full swing after Ulfric’s escape.” 

Brynjolf frowned. 

“If you really want, we can assign someone else to this–” he began, but Ariene shook her head.

“I’ll be fine. I know how to blend in in a big city like Solitude. What about Gulum-Ei, any tips on how to handle him?” 

“He’s one of the most stubborn lizards I’ve ever met, I’ll tell you that much,” Brynjolf said with a snort. “You’re probably going to have to buy him off; coin is just about the only way to get his attention.” 

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. 

“Now that I think about it, I’ve not heard of him dealing with property before. Smuggling goods is his usual scheme. But then again, he hasn’t done business with us in the last year or so. I’ll bet you my last septim that whatever he’s up to now, he’s in way over his head.”

“Hmmm…maybe I can use that as leverage,” Ariene mused. “Thanks for the insight.” 

She rolled her neck and shoulders, letting out a sigh before getting to her feet and grabbing her knapsack. 

“I should probably get going, before Mercer comes in here and sees me ignoring his orders.”

“Stay sharp out there, lass,” Brynjolf said. He took a breath, then added: “and I’m sorry too. About tonight, I mean.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ariene said, shrugging. “Hopefully I won’t be gone too long, and we can pick things up where we left off.” 

“Come back with good intel, and I’ll buy you one of those fancy concoctions Talen-Jei makes at the Bee and Barb,” Brynjolf promised. 

“Deal,” she said, smiling. 

She started to move past him, to leave through the cistern’s back door, but Brynjolf caught her by the hand before she could exit. 

“Good luck, lass,” he said. 

A phrase he’d heard Gallus use years ago flitted through his mind, and he found himself repeating it. 

“Walk with the shadows.”

— — — 

Prev: Ch.7 - A Dampened Pursuit || Next: Ch.9 - Every Cloud...

[sasaranomiya]

Koukyuu no Karasu Volume 4 Chapter 1 - The Silkworm God (Part 1)

hey guys im back~~~ this chapter was supposed to come out way earlier but i got sidetracked

Previous || Index || Next

The moon sank into the sea and became two gods:

One the god of shadow, one the god of light

Eight thousand nights they spent at the sea.

The first god secluding in the black palace

The second god cavorting in the palace of the moon

And thus, one became Kakurenomiya

And the other became Sasaranomiya

Another god became the port of Kakurenomiya

This was the Great Sea Turtle God

The god had sinned, and was thus rent into eight parts

The flowing water carried them away from the palace

Its head was Jie, its arms were Bahuang, its legs were Gulu

Its carapace became canyons, its blood transformed into rivers

Its eyes became swamps, its breath became a maelstrom that called the tide

Ears of rice ripened in its rotting flesh and degenerated into seeds

The mulberry tree grows, the silkworm grows, and mankind grows

Its bones were made one once again, and the white turtle god was formed

His name was Gou-no-Kami

This god calmed the violent seas to protect ships

The descendants of these gods began

The bloodline of the white king, the emperor—

――From a ritual song of wubangs

There were bundles of raw silk packed in a wooden box in front of Banka. The milk-colored raw silk, resembling morning mist, had a moist luster. Her father, Chouyou, had sent her some of the finest raw silk from Ga Province.

Ga Province’s raw silk was considered to be of the highest quality in the nation of Shou. The province’s sericulture industry began with the silkworms brought by the Saname clan when they migrated here from Kakami, and it had the reputation it developed today after Chouyou devoted himself to selectively breeding the silkworms. Banka had been taking care of the silkworms since childhood under his orders. Spring silkworms, summer silkworms, autumn silkworms, late-autumn silkworms…everyday, she picked mulberry leaves, fed them to the silkworms, cleaned, moved the place where they made their cocoons during their maturing period, sorted them based on their shells after they became cocoons, and repeated that year after year.

Banka liked listening to the sound of the silkworms eating mulberry leaves. When she sat in a corner of the cocoonery and listened closely to the sound of silkworms feasting on the leaves, she felt calm as if being enveloped in gentle rain. It was the sound of life itself.

That was why, when she watched the sorted cocoons being boiled in hot water and their threads taken out, she felt a cold shadow in her heart. The sound of boiling water was the sound of life being torn away. However, the threads spun in this way shined coldly and was above all beautiful.

Whenever the silk slid over her skin, there was always a blue-black chill, like a winter shade.

Banka picked up a bundle of raw silk from the box.

The bundle was tied with paper. Banka stuck her finger in there. Unscrupulous merchants would cheat the weight by rolling in lead or scrap iron into the bundles. Of course, there were no such tricks in packages from her father, but there were other tricks. Banka’s finger felt for the paper string pasted to the back of the paper. Unlike ordinary letters, letters he didn’t want other people seeing were always delivered in this way. She removed the paper string and opened it carefully. A short sentence written in her father’s handwriting was on the thin strip of paper.

“Don’t get involved with the Raven Consort.”

Banka’s breath caught.

Why?

Her father’s written orders never contained reasons. Banka simply obeyed his words. That was why she informed him about everything that happened in the inner palace, and let him know how the emperor looked whenever she was near him. She could do these things only because she thought it was for the best interests of her father, and by extension, the Saname clan.

That was why she wrote about Jusetsu’s secret in her letter. The fact that she hid the color of her hair.

She told him the secret of Jusetsu, who saved her life, who she even wanted to be friends with.

After much hesitation, she weighed Jusetsu and her father, and in the end, Banka chose her father.

She didn’t know why her father, who knew Jusetsu’s secret, ordered her “not to get involved with her.”

However, she didn’t need to be ordered to do that. She didn’t know what kind of face she should make when she saw Jusetsu from now on. They could no longer be friends.

Banka stroked the raw silk. It was cool, but she felt a heat that bounced off her hand as she stroked it. It was the heat of life. Of harvested life.

I’m sure I don’t hold a heat like this.

Banka recalled the sorting of cocoons. It was the work of sorting the good cocoons from the bad ones. Among the bad ones, there was the so-called dead cocoons. The moth had died inside the cocoon and it rotted. A rotten, mushy cocoon.

I’m the same as them.

Unbeknownst to anyone, I rotted on the inside, and now I’m dead on the inside…

“I heard that there’s a ghost in the cocoonery.”

Jiujiu didn’t talk about that rumor until nightfall. As the weather got cooler day by day, the sun set earlier. As usual, Yamei Palace was quietly plunged into darkness without any of the lanterns lit. The sound of insects could be heard in the distance. The only people in the room were Jusetsu and her attendant, Jiujiu. Even though Jusetsu told her it was fine, Jiujiu stayed up with her until late at night. This was because of the guests who visited the Raven Consort at night. They relied on the black-clad consort would accept any request from searching for lost items to curse killings, so the people of the inner palace hid away from prying eyes in the darkness of the night and came here.

“Where?” Jusetsu asked back at the unfamiliar words.

“The cocoonery. It’s the place where the silkworms are raised.”

“There was something like that in the inner palace?”

“Apparently, there is a mulberry grove north of Hakkaku Palace. It’s located there. It was also there during the previous dynasty and the reign of the emperor before the last. The previous emperor’s wife disliked silkworms, so the cocoonery was demolished, but His Majesty built a new one. You see, the Crane Consort’s family runs a thriving sericulture business.”

“Banka’s family…the Saname clan?”

“Yes. The cocoonery was built for the Crane Consort. Apparently, she also helped raise silkworms back home. It’s the palace ladies of the Hakkaku Palace who work in this cocoonery, though.”

This is where we come to the main topic, Jiujiu said.

“People are saying that it’s haunted.”

“Oh? Is it a silkworm ghost?”

“No, it’s the ghost of a palace lady.”

According to Jiujiu, this was the story.

During the previous dynasty, there was a palace lady who worked in the cocoonery. One time, she accidentally stepped on a silkworm and killed it. But she kept silent without confessing her crime. After all, she would be punished if she did. That night, however, she suddenly began to suffer in pain and started to vomit silk from her mouth. The raw silk kept coming out without ever ending. Her body wasted away as more silk came out. When one of the palace ladies hurriedly cut the silk with a pair of scissors, she collapsed and died. Her hair had become white like raw silk.

“It’s the silkworm’s curse,” Jiujiu said fearfully and pressed her hand to her cheek. Jusetsu tilted her head to the side.

“Then is that not a story about a palace lady who was cursed and killed? I don’t believe it has to do with the ghost.”

“That’s where the story begins, Niangniang. The ghost of the palace lady who died from this curse is said to haunt the cocoonery. It’s said that she would appear there from time to time and take care of the silkworms while mixed in with the other palace ladies. She blends into the group while no one is paying attention, and once someone realizes that she’s there, she disappears. They say that she also showed up during the reign of the emperor before the last. The cocoonery didn’t exist during the previous reign, so it seemed that she never appeared, but—”

“After the cocoonery was rebuilt, the ghost appeared again.”

“That’s right, Niangniang,” Jiujiu nodded deeply.

“She didn’t seem to have harmed or cursed the other palace ladies, but the Hakkaku Palace palace ladies are terrified.”

“Did you hear that from them?”

“No, from a palace lady at Enou Palace. I heard it when I went there to get scrap paper for Ishiha’s writing practice.”

Yamei Palace’s boy eunuch, Ishiha, was currently learning to read and write, and he needed all the paper that he could get. That was why they asked for scrap paper from many people.

Every palace had chatty palace ladies, and Jiujiu gathered gossip whenever she went on such errands. She got useful information, as well as trivial ghost stories.

“If it didn’t come from the people involved, then there is no way to know how true it is.”

“Shall I ask a palace lady from Hakkaku Palace, then?”

“You need not go that—” Jusetsu stopped and looked at the doors. Xingxing the golden bird was flapping its wings. They had a visitor.

“Niangniang,” the voice that came from the other side of the door belonged to her bodyguard eunuch, Onkei. “I’ve brought a palace lady who got lost in the woods.”

Yamei Palace was surrounded by a lush forest of laurels and rhododendrons. The forest, which was dim even during the day, was even darker at night when the moon was covered with clouds like today. One could lose their way if one wasn’t careful.

When the doors opened, Onkei brought with him a petite palace lady who had an anxious expression on her face. She knelt in front of Jusetsu and bowed. Onkei went back outside after saying, “Tan Kai will slack off immediately if you take your eyes off him.” Tan Kai was her other bodyguard eunuch. Contrary to the taciturn and austere Onkei, he was chatty and often lazy.

“Lady Raven Consort, I have come to ask you for a favor.”

After saying that, the palace lady prostrated herself in front of Jusetsu as kowtowing towards her. Her feeble voice sounded strained. She seemed to have an urgent request.

“I cannot hear you very well from there. Come here and sit down.”

Jusetsu pointed to the chair across from her. The palace lady stood up, looking somewhat puzzled, and hesitantly walked over.

“Your name?” Jusetsu asked bluntly.

“My family name is Nen, and my given name is Shuuji. I belong to Hakkaku Palace, but I mainly work in the cocoonery.”

Jusetsu met eyes with Jiujiu, who was standing next to her. She knew that even without going to Hakkaku Palace, if something really happened, someone would come here. But she never expected them to show up at such a convenient time.

“Is there a ghost haunting the cocoonery?”

“You knew about that, Lady Raven Consort?”

As expected of the Raven Consort, Shuuji said in awe, but Jusetsu corrected her. “No, I merely overheard the rumors.” It would be troublesome if people thought she could read minds.

“I heard that it’s the ghost of a palace lady.”

“Yes. Apparently, it’s the ghost of a palace lady who died from the silkworm’s curse in the previous dynasty.”

Shuuji’s story about the ghost was the same as the rumors Jusetsu heard from Jiujiu.

“Before I knew it, that ghost was in the cocoonery. When I was carrying the mulberry leaves and feeding the silkworms, I was so busy that I barely even glanced at all the palace ladies’ faces. Then, when I suddenly looked up, I saw an unfamiliar palace lady giving mulberry leaves to the silkworms. I cried out in surprise, and she suddenly disappeared. There are others who had seen her besides me.”

Shuuji said that since, the ghost had often appeared in the cocoonery.

“But if that was all, I wouldn’t have come here to consult you, Lady Raven Consort. Taking care of the silkworms is a busy job, so we honestly don’t have time to worry about one or two ghosts. She appears suddenly and disappears just as suddenly, and she’s harmless, so everyone soon got used to her. We were more focused on successfully raising the silkworms and making them into good cocoons.”

But then…Shuuji’s face clouded over.

“Someone has been harmed?”

Shuuji nodded. “Yes. But no one has been sick or injured. No, it’s more worrisome than that.”

With a pale face, she lowered her head.

“Worrisome?”

“Cocoons have gone missing.”

Jusetsu was somewhat disappointed. “That’s worrisome?”

“It’s very important to us. The silkworms raised in that house belong to the Crane Consort, and by extension, His Majesty. We must not let even a single one die in vain, much less letting them go missing.”

“How many are missing?”

“Two as of now.”

“How do you know that only a few have been lost? You must be raising a lot of silkworms in the cocoonery.”

“It would be almost impossible to tell when they are larvae, but when they are matured silkworms, that is, ready to make cocoons, they are moved to a cocoon-making area made of straw called the cocoon holders. We put one silkworm in there each morning, so we would know if the cocoons that have formed there are missing. The missing cocoons were the ones that had been completed and all that remained was to remove the fluff, but yesterday, when we suddenly took our eyes off them, they were gone…”

“Are you saying that’s the work of the ghost?”

“Of course, at first, we thought that maybe they had fallen out of the cocoon holders for some reason, so we searched not only the floor, but also the entire room. We even searched the palace ladies’ clothing. But we couldn’t find them. In the midst of all this, one palace lady mentioned something. She said that the ghost had appeared right before the cocoons went missing. She thought it was the aforementioned ghost, so she let her be, just like everyone else… I have never seen the ghost take a cocoon, but there is no other way. After we entered the house, no one left until the loss was discovered. Even so, the cocoons weren’t found in the room or the clothing. So it cannot be that one of us took them. In the first place, we are the ones who will be punished if a cocoon goes missing, so there is no way one of us would do something like that.”

“Indeed, your logic is sound,” Jusetsu nodded.

“Because the cocoons have yet to be collected, the cocoon numbers haven’t been reported to the Crane Consort yet. So, we all decided to claim that the cocoons died. …Um…”

Shuuji glanced at Jusetsu.

“I won’t tell the Crane Consort.”

After Jusetsu said that, Shuuji looked relieved and continued talking.

“However, if the ghost appears again and takes more cocoons…starting tomorrow, we will have to collect the finished cocoons. After collecting them and sorting them into good cocoons and bad, if some of the good ones disappear, it will all be over. They are counted, so we can’t cover it up.”

Punishment would then await them. That was why Shuuji called it worrisome.

“The ghost of a palace lady who died after being cursed by the silkworms is now taking their cocoons…” Jusetsu murmured.

“Even if you cover up the loss this time, it would difficult to do it again in the future.”

“Yes. In the Crane Consort’s cocoonery, we raise silkworms three times in spring, summer, and autumn. I feel my body wasting away when I think of the possibility of this happening again.”

Shuuji covered her face with her sleeve. Hmm, Jusetsu pondered.

“If it really is the work of ghosts, then we would be one step behind if we take our time investigating the ghost’s circumstances. For the time being, I can create a barrier in the cocoonery to prevent the ghost from appearing…”

“Can you really do that?” Shuuji raised her head.

“I cannot say anything unless I see the ghost.”

“Yes, by all means, please go ahead.”

Shuuji looked overjoyed enough to clasp Jusetsu’s hands, but her expression immediately darkened again.

“Lady Raven Consort, I have another problem.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the missing cocoons. If it’s true that they are completely gone, then it’s fine, but if the ghost took them somewhere else, that would be a problem.”

“Why?”

“The silkworms in that house are Ga Province silkworms. They are not local. In the event that those silkworms emerge and cross-breed with wild or domestic silkworms in this area, that will cause great problems. It will ruin their breed.”

“Ah…I see.”

Problems like that exist? She thought

“Then, do you want me to find the location of the cocoons?”

“The moths emerge from their cocoons after about ten days. We have to find them before that…”

Shuuji covered her face. She seemed overwhelmed by this sudden disaster.

“I think it would be a good idea to explain the situation to Banka—the Crane Consort. I don’t think she would give you a severe punishment.”

“…That may be true for the Crane Consort, but…” Shuuji trailed off and looked down. “Her father…”

“Banka’s father? The head of the Saname clan?”

“Yes…” Shuuji’s gaze wandered. “The Crane Consort’s father is very strict, and she cannot go against him. If he tells her to hand down a strict punishment, she will obey him.”

He’s the man who told Banka to choose between her own life or the life of her adopted sister.

The Saname clan was cursed by a god to have the youngest daughter of the clan head to die at fifteen. In order to circumvent that, a girl younger than Banka was adopted into the clan. Banka begged her father to save her sister, but he told her that she herself should choose to die instead if that was the case. As a result, the adopted daughter died, and Banka lived. Jusetsu wondered what kind of man Saname Chouyou was for forcing his daughter to make such a choice.

Shuuji covered her mouth with her sleeve.

“I’ve said too much. Please forget it.”

Jusetsu promised to go to the cocoonery tomorrow, and then Shuuji left.

“The Crane Consort seems to be an easygoing person, but her father is very strict. Even the palace ladies are afraid of him,” Jiujiu, who had been standing by in silence, opened her mouth like she couldn’t wait to speak. “The behavior of a consort will probably reflect the inclinations of her family to some extent…”

Jusetsu turned her face to the window. She couldn’t see Hakkaku Palace from here.

If Banka—Hakkaku Palace was at the will of Saname Chouyou, that was something to think about.

Koushun probably already knows about it.

The face of the inscrutable young emperor appeared in her mind. Neither his consorts nor their families were something for Jusetsu to worry about. From the start, the Raven Consort had nothing to do with the outside.

“…”

Jusetsu narrowed her eyes at the melting darkness of the night outside the window.

A lush green mulberry grove could be seen on the other side of Hakkaku Palace.

“Is that it?” Jusetsu muttered. “Yes, niangniang,” Onkei answered from behind her. He was accompanying her to the cocoonery this morning.

“The mulberry grove has been around since the previous dynasty, and it was still maintained even when there was no cocoonery.”

“Why are silkworms raised in the inner palace?”

“It’s more the imperial palace rather than the inner palace. There is also a cocoonery in the outer court. They say that breed improvement and research are being conducted there. Originally, raw silk for the emperor and imperial family were produced there.”

“So, the cocoonery in the inner palace is for the consorts?”

“Yes. I heard it used to be quite large.”

Since Onkei said that, Jusetsu imagined a small hut. However, the cocoonery that appeared before her was quite a respectable building. It certainly didn’t have the magnificence of a consort’s palace, but it had three buildings roofed with blue-glazed roof tiles, and it was encircled with mud roof walls. From the front building, they could hear the sounds and voices of the palace ladies busy at work, and in the back building, they could see eunuchs coming and going with bundles of firewood.

“The mulberry storehouse is in the back, and the cocoonery is in the front.”

Onkei explained. He was sent here as a spy on Ei Sei’s orders, so he knew most of the things here, which was helpful. He was a beautiful eunuch with cool eyes and a single scar running across his cheek. He was a skillful guard, but he was also a very capable servant, with his attention to small details, a shadow-like unassumingness in all things, and his efficiency in carrying out tasks.

Jusetsu headed for the building in front. Before she could climb the steps, the doors opened and a palace lady hurried out. It was Shuuji.

“My deepest apologies for not noticing your arrival, Lady Raven Consort. I was watching the outside, but I thought you were a eunuch…”

“That’s fine. It would be unfavorable to me if I were recognized from a distance.”

In order to not be recognized by Hakkaku Palace, Jusetsu came here dressed as a eunuch. It really was convenient. Although Jiujiu, who wanted to dress her up, complained about it.

Jusetsu peered into the cocoonery and saw that the palace ladies seemed to be collecting cocoons. When they heard that the Raven Consort was here, they stopped what they were doing, got onto their knees and bowed.

“Continue your work. Other people will suspect something.”

The palace ladies obediently returned to work. There were rows of shelves and long tables, and on top of the tables, there were bellows-shaped objects woven from straw. When she saw the cocoons hanging from them, she thought that they must be the tools called cocoon holders that Shuuji talked about last night. The palace ladies removed the cocoons and placed them on trays.

“Right now, we’re collecting cocoons. After this, we will remove the fluff stuck to them and separate them into good ones and bad ones. The difference is whether or not they are suitable for turning into thread or not. Double cocoons consisting of two silkworms becoming one cocoon, thin cocoons, cocoons with holes, cocoons with rotting dead moths inside, cocoons soiled with urine and other bodily fluids, cocoons with marks left from the holders…they will all be removed,” Shuuji explained. “Furthermore, the good cocoons are divided into those that will be used to make thread, and those that will be made to emerge to lay eggs. The thread will be offered to the Crane Consort, and after that, she will present them to His Majesty.”

“Once the good cocoons are selected, not a single one of them will be lost, right?”

Yes, Shuuji lowered her eyes. In other words, there could be no deferment. Jusetsu put her hand to her hair and realized that she didn’t have her usual flowers there. Even though she dressed as a eunuch often, she kept forgetting about it.

She held her hand out forward and gathered heat in her palm. A light crimson haze flickered, tangled, and intertwined. The haze transformed into petals, one by one, and formed a peony flower. Jusetsu blew on it.

The flower turned into smoke and scattered. It floated around, swimming between the palace ladies.

The pale red smoke gradually gathered in one place and began to take the form of a person. It was the figure of a woman. A simple hairpin was tucked into her chignon, and her pale, slender face had well-shaped eyebrows that looked as if they were drawn with a brush and thin-lidded eyes. The long robes that enveloped her thin body weren’t in the current fashion, but her modest yet elegant appearance gave her the look of a court servant.

Shuuji let out a small cry and covered her mouth with her sleeve.

“T-That’s the ghost of the palace lady I saw!”

The other palace ladies had also stopped what they were doing and stared wide-eyed at the ghost.

The ghost suddenly moved amidst those stares. She soundlessly went towards the door. Jusetsu leaned back halfway and made way for the ghost. The ghost disappeared as though sucked into the door.

She went outside.

“L-Lady Raven Consort—”

“We’re going after her,” Jusetsu interrupted Shuuji and called out to Onkei. He quickly opened the door.

When they went outside, they saw the ghost from behind about to leave through the gate. Jusetsu followed her. There were no sounds of foodsteps or rustling of clothes, but the ghost’s gait was similar to that of the living. What was different was that the hem of her robes didn’t flutter and her sleeves didn’t sway. If such ghosts were to simply stand still among the palace ladies, even the people next to them wouldn’t realize that they were ghosts. Among the many courtiers in the inner palace, there might be ghosts mingled in with them, pretending to be the living.

The ghost left the cocoonery and headed further north. That was the outskirts of the inner palace. It was a neglected area with unkempt, overgrown trees, and there was no one in sight.

Jusetsu, who had been chasing the ghost, came to a slightly open space and stopped. There was something like a small burial mound covered in dense moss and grass there. The ghost had stopped in front of it. The sun shined down on the mound, and the moss glistened faintly. As they watched, the ghost seemed to melt into the mound and disappeared.

What is this mound?

It couldn’t belong to the ghost. It was difficult to imagine that a mere palace lady’s burial mound would be located inside the inner palace.

“Whose mound is this?”

She turned back to Onkei, but even he had a rare unknowing look on his face.

“I shall look into it.”

“Please do so.”

After that brief exchange, Jusetsu looked around. The area was surrounded by trees. There were old trees with ivy entwined around them, young trees lush with leaves, and trees that had already rotted and fallen. It was quiet. Judging by the trampled undergrowth, it seemed that it wasn’t completely unvisited by people. Did they come here to visit the mound? After checking the surroundings, Jusetsu returned to the cocoonery.

Shuuji was standing alone in front of the room from earlier, looking like she had nothing to do. Apparently, the other palace ladies moved to another room to remove the fuzz from the cocoons.

Jusetsu told her about the ghost disappearing into the mound, but Shuuji didn’t know anything about the mound either. In fact, this was the first time she heard about it.

“The outskirts of the inner palace are frightening, and as a woman, I can’t go there unless I have serious business…”

That did seem to be true.

“It would be easy to keep that ghost out of the cocoonery, but…” Jusetsu cut herself off there and pondered for a bit. That wasn’t enough. The cocoons must be found.

“I ask for your assistance,” Shuuji bowed to her. Jusetsu wasn’t a god, so being begged like this made her extremely uncomfortable.

“…Very well. I’ll create a barrier for now. Then I’ll see what I can find out about the mound.”

She took out a spindle wound with thread from her breast pocket. She went out to the outer corridor and asked Onkei to hold the end of the thread, then ran it along the floor, making a circle around the cocoonery. Finally, the barrier was created once she tied the ends together. It was a spell she used many times before. It wasn’t the Raven Consort’s spell, but a sorcerer’s spell.

She had learned it from Reijou, the previous Raven Consort, but in the previous dynasty, when sorcerers were able to frequent the inner palace, this kind of work was probably their job. They must have been valued.

No, it probably went beyond that.

She recalled the words of Ui, the keeper of the treasure room.

It was for protection against Wulian Niangniang, just in case

He told me that he couldn’t feel safe without the power to fight back…

There was probably a good reason why sorcerers were so highly regarded during the previous dynasty.

“Avoid stepping on the thread as much as possible. Though, as long as it doesn’t break when you step on it, it doesn’t matter.”

After giving Shuuji those warnings, Jusetsu left the room. The palace ladies were waiting outside, and they all knelt upon seeing her. Jusetsu was perplexed.

“Thank you very much, Lady Raven Consort.”

“I didn’t do much. Don’t make it to be more than it is. You were the ones who said that it would be all of you in trouble if outsiders learn about it.”

Even so, the palace ladies didn’t rise until Jusetsu passed through the gate. It seemed that the palace ladies of Hakkaku Palace held the Raven Consort in particular reverence, especially after the incident in which she saved Banka. Despite the fact that she really hadn’t done much.

 “And there’s also the cocoons…”

After leaving the cocoonery, Jusetsu stopped once and looked back. The gentle green of the mulberry trees shone in the morning sun. Here and there, there were sections where branches had been cut, probably for feeding the silkworms.

I’m good at looking for lost items, but…

It was different when it came to cocoons. Because they had no owner. Tracing lost items from their owners wasn’t difficult. However, cocoons were…

“Onkei,” Jusetsu called out to him while still looking at the mulberry grove. “In addition to the mound, there is something I want you to investigate.”

Yes, came his short reply.

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[fishrpg]

2024-10-12: Area 12 (Wasco Merchants & Farmers Bank)

Those in need of money in Bowman turn to Wasco Merchants & Farmers Bank. It’s a single-story building with a blue façade and a pitched roof to keep the snow from piling up too much. The front door and windows are barred for security, and the bank tellers operate through a small window cut into a wooden barrier to keep unscrupulous individuals from jumping over the teller counter. A locked door in the lobby leads to the main area of the bank where customers seeking a loan meet with the proprietors of the bank. The bank is not owned and operated by a corporation, instead being wholly-owned by two brothers from St. Louis who relocated to the area six years ago.

Eustace Stockton is the older of the two, approaching the age of 50 and never without a spotless suit. He is the generally seen as the face of the bank, as most people seeking loans interact with him. Hiram Stockton is just two years behind, considerably slimmer and quieter than his brother. Hiram is the one who is over the bookkeeping and helps set the interest rate. Only rarely does Eustace actually disagree with Hiram’s decisions, but the pair often argue about rates in front of the customer. This is almost entirely for show, a performance designed to trick customers into thinking the rates are flexible and that Eustace is looking out for the customer.

Like most banks of the era, loan rates varied considerably and the most favorable rates were given to the already wealthy (or at least those who were presumed to be wealthy and of good character). Rates for the poor (in money, character, or both) could see interests rates as high as 60%, take it or leave it. Most of the time, the brothers work in the same room behind the teller counter alongside two other employees: Edna Downing and Maud Henderson. Both women are capable in their role as tellers, though they were hired because they were relatively young women who could be paid much less. Edna close familiarity with the accounting ledgers has uncovered a series of fraudulent charges and administrative fees that are actually hush money payments to Eustace’s mistress, but Edna has not acted on this information yet. Maud, on the other hand, is only sticking around long enough to scrape together the money needed to move south and start a new life somewhere warmer.

The bank also has a small office where loans involving sensitive or secret details for wealthy customers can be processed discreetly. Behind that office is the vault, which is a walk-in safe secured by a sturdy combination lock. The vault contains about $22,000, though it is spread among several different stores of value: paper bank notes, gold and silver coins, gold bullion and non-negotiable securities. A small ladder runs between the vault and the far wall, which leads to a cramped attic where several boxes of files and personal effects belonging to the Stockton brothers are stored. Though the ground floor of the bank is well-secured, the roof is considerably less robust and makes for an enticing entry point for would-be thieves.