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kessielrg · 11 months ago

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Kingdom Hearts AU: Lay In The Fire: Part 2

Summary: In which Ventus presents Aqua a traveler to feed on, with the promise that she will keep her alive. Things get messy from there.

Notes: Another thing based on luxmoogle’s vampire AU. Sponsored by Tove Lo’s Come Undone from her studio album, Sunshine Kitty. Much longer this time and with 60% of my usual shenanigans. 😘

Word Count: 3,117 words

Series: Stupid Kids: 1. Drink Deep: 1, [2], 3, 4

AO3 Link: here

Ven felt a bit better the next day. Preparing a meal for one more person kept him a bit busier than usual. He still gave Aqua her morning meal, as per the rules of a standard house.

“You’re really happy this morning,” Aqua noted with a slight tease in her voice.

“Am I?” Ven mused. Not once did he look up from arranging Aqua’s meal in front of her. The motions were far too familiar to mess up. “Haven’t really noticed.”

Aqua let out a light laughter.

“You know,” she then entertained, placing her handkerchief in her lap, “You can tend to her while I eat. I can clean up as well so you have time to redress her wounds.”

Ventus almost tripped. “Really?!”

His master gave a firm nod.

“Thank you Aqua!” he gratefully said. He gave her arm a quick squeeze to further show his appreciation, as hugging her was a bit complicated at the moment, before dashing back into the kitchen. Aqua couldn’t help but let out another laugh.

Ven almost tripped multiple times as he got Sabrina’s breakfast ready. His gait was all but a skip as he took the tray to the guest quarters. Making it through the door almost led to another near-spill. When he looked to the bed, his surprise caused him to jump, making the liquids on the tray fall out of their vessel.

“You’re sitting up!” Ven gleefully remarked. “Are you feeling better today?”

“Watch this.” Sabrina taunted. With some effort, she scooted her body close to the edge of the bed, then brought her legs down to the floor. Nervous, Ventus quickly put the tray down on the washstand but he didn’t need to help. Sabrina was standing on her own. A bit wobbly, perhaps, but certainly not bedridden anymore.

“Practiced all morning before you got here,” she even boasted, giving him a wink and a click of her tongue.

“Are you sure that’s safe for you right now?” Ven carefully asked.

Sabrina sat down at the edge of the bed.

“I traveled while having cold sweats from a fever. I almost got thrown off a horse because it got spooked by an animal. I had my blood taken from an actual vampire, and lived to tell the tale so far. I think working on standing again with the safety of a bed behind me is the safest thing I could probably do.”

Ven laughed- one riddled with more concern than amusement.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” She told him in a firm tone. “Now bring that tray over here, I’m hungry.”

“And there she goes,” Ven mused with a roll of his eyes, picking up the tray regardless, “Boasts about herself and not giving a lick of gratitude to someone who spent all morning on her meal.”

“Because I haven’t tasted it yet,” she informed him. “Give it.”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh.”

Ventus did not trust Sabrina’s motor skills the same way she did, so he placed the tray beside her on the bed. He then sat on the other side, just in case she needed help.

And, boy, did Sabrina try not to need any help this morning. She took her slice of toast (topped with marmalade and watercress) and carefully picked at it so she could take smaller bites. It was a test to herself. She had proven that enough of her gross motor skills were functioning well enough, now it was time to prove her fine motor skills too.

She took her time, making it look like a practiced stage production. While she sat tall, Ven idly considered for a moment that it wasn’t a surprise her caretaker called her princess. Her manners while eating were perfect despite the unconventional dining area. The consideration she took on what to eat was looked over with a critical eye. She even held her pinkie out while drinking from the teacup! Had he not been sitting near her so casually, it would have been easy to mistake Ventus for Sabrina’s servant instead of Aqua’s.

“You rushed this, didn’t you?” Sabrina asked once she had finished everything on the tray.

Ven jumped with a start.

“H-how?” he started to stammer. He quickly shook his head. “I mean, Aqua is always given her meals first. Being lady of the castle has that privilege.”

Sabrina nodded. “Naturally.”

“This morning she gave me permission to send you breakfast instead of waiting and cleaning up for her. I guess the change of pace made me rush a bit. But most everything was done beforehand- around the same time I made Aqua’s breakfast.”

That made Sabrina quirk an eyebrow. She didn’t say anything against it, though.

“Was it bad?” Ven ventured to ask as he got up, taking the tray with him.

Sabrina gave an indifferent shrug. Once more, not truly bothering to elaborate on her thoughts.

“Well…” Ven awkwardly went on to say, “If you need anything, let me know. When you feel up to it, I can help you around the main areas of the castle as well.”

Ventus did not wait for her to respond. Instead he made his way to the door. Just as he touched the handle, Sabrina declared,

“Wait.”

Ven did so at the same speed when Aqua requested something from him. He turned to look at Sabrina again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Sabrina laid back on the bed, apparently well worn from a good meal and making her body return to its usual productivity.

“Since this is a castle, my princess self would like to know something.”

Ven raised an eyebrow, carefully shuffling the tray in his hands.

“What is it?”

Sabrina's mouth became a cunning smirk. “Any secret passages? You know, in case the villagers decide to plan a siege against the monster on the hill.”

Ven blinked. The thought lulled around in his brain for a bit longer before realizing what she was truly asking.

“There is one.” he agreed. “But it’s quite a walk, are you sure you want to explore it?”

“As if I have anything else to do than benchmark myself.”

The familiar looked the traveler over. Soon a smile etched across his lips with excitement.

“Now?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Give or take.”

His smile grew even wider.

“Let me return and clean these dishes, and then I’ll come back up.” he promised. “As much as I trust your ability to stand, I don’t feel the same about your walking just yet.”

“What a gentleman.” Sabrina smirked.

Her sassiness wasn’t going to stop him now. Ventus finally opened her door to head back to the kitchen, his steps were light and giddy. Before going back to her, he went to check on Aqua. It was routine by now that she would be reading in the library. Always the same spot, but not always the same book.

“Sabrina and I are going for a walk.” Ventus announced to his master. “She wants to see the emergency corridor. If that’s alright by you.”

Aqua looked up. For a moment Ven swore he saw a flicker of concern, but Aqua’s voice was as calm as ever.

“So long as she doesn’t plan on sending her kind after us, I do not mind at all. Will you still be joining me afterward?”

“Of course!”

“Then go. I’m sure she’s practically out the door as we speak.”

Ventus nearly jumped for joy.

“Thank you so much, Aqua! You have no idea how much it means to me!”

And with that, he bolted out of the room. Aqua had to give a small laugh. The small worry she had for her familiar, however, lingered.

Sabrina was not at all charmed by the entrance to the escape corridor. It wasn’t well hidden considering its location- the buttery. The stone door with an impressive arch had more than enough space around it to know it was a door you could go through. Sure, you had to navigate through a few racks of wine, and multiple barrels of still fermenting juices, but anyone could have seen it.

“This is a choice.” she decided with a disappointed click of her tongue.

Ven, who had been opening the door, took a look back at her.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Sabrina used her arms to gestures around them.

“The buttery? That’s where the secret escape route is?”

Ven gave a small shrug. “I think it’s pretty clever,” he admitted. “I mean, think about it. The kitchen and the dining hall are the heart of any building. The buttery is usually only used by servants- no one else would know it exists. Not even average guests.”

“But the door isn’t even hidden.”

“Some of the most obvious things are. Also happens to the most dangerous things too.”

With a grunt, Ven was able to push the door open. Sabrina took a few steps forward to see what she would be dealing with. The corridor wasn’t much to speak of- both walls and steps made out of the same stone that the rest of the castle was laid in. There were no slits in the walls for minuscule lighting. Once that door closed, the two were going to be in pitch black darkness until their eyes adjusted.

“This is already a lot more steps than I was expecting.” Sabrina mumbled.

“It’s all about the perspective. Imagine trying to descend them with angry villagers at your door.” Ven mused, meaning for it to be a joke. All he got back in return was a perplexed glare.

With the plath open, the duo began the trek downward. Ventus remained ahead of Sabrina, guiding her down the steps even though the darkened path was more than clear. There was only one exit at this point, after all.

Ven had only gone down this secret path a few times in his life so far. The first was when he was much, much younger, and Aqua wanted to ensure his safety in case someone came for her. Every time after was to make sure it was still secure. It was a path he would take when flying in owl form wouldn’t have been safe. In good time, he could make the path down in less than 10 minutes. His record so far was roughly seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds.

With Sabrina still weak, the time it took was quite a bit longer than that. They had to pause three times just for her to sit and catch her breath again. At one point Sabrina had made them stop for so long, he worried that she had fallen asleep again. By the time they got to the other side, a door matching one that started the journey greeting them, the afternoon sun was already starting to wane.

“Help me with the door.” Ven told Sabrina. “We have to pull it open.”

“Right.” she agreed with a nod.

Using what looked like large brass knockers, Ventus and Sabrina took a firm hold before pulling as hard as they could. Slowly and carefully, the door started to move from the frame, allowing light to stream through before it became almost blinding.

“Oh wow.” Sabrina remarked once her eyes adjusted to the outside light again. She moved forward without waiting for Ventus. On the other side of the emergency corridor was a beautiful meadow filled with sweet smelling flowers that Sabrina wouldn’t even begin to name. The sunlight bounced off each one like jewels. By the time Ven closed the door and noticed she was nowhere near him, Sabrina had already ventured to the near middle of it all. She unconsciously found herself starting to sit down in the flowers. Her arms laid out beside her as if she were comfortable in bed all over again.

“You okay over there?” Ven mused once he was next to her again. He also started to lay down, keeping his hands over his stomach and just close enough to her that no little stem blocked his view of her calm face.

“Shut up, there are poppies in these flowers.” she told him- far less bite in her voice than usual. “Just let me relax. Those stairs were steep and many.”

Ven chuckled a little, but did as she requested. He gazed up at the clouds with mirth. One was shaped like a lumpy crown. Another looked like three circles joined together to make a pair of mouse ears.

A small noise started to come near Ven. It took him a moment to realize Sabrina was humming. The thought of it caught him off guard, to say the least.

“Papa taught me that song,” Sabrina then said- shocking Ven even more. As if she sensed his astonishment, she added, “I can feel you staring at me. You do that a lot.”

“How can you tell? Your eyes are closed.”

“Despite current circumstances, my fight or flight reactions are still an active part of me. Being stared at invokes those, you know.”

“Ri-ight.” Ven smirked. Then a small thought came to him. Before he could stop himself, he had to ask, “Why do you leave your family so often? They worry about you just as much as Aqua worries about me.”

Sabrina raised and lowered a shoulder in indifference.

“It’s quiet here. And that’s a commodity back there.” she claimed. She turned her head to him- her dark eyes now open and bearing into his soul. “Isn’t that why you left your family for Aqua? For solitude? To find yourself? I can tango with a vampire because of you. But who -or what- led you here?”

Ven’s body clenched slightly. He looked away from her. A cloud passing by looked like a bird.

“I didn’t know my family before Aqua. I was abandoned on her steps as a baby.” he admitted. “I wouldn’t leave her for anything. That’s why I want to be her familiar.”

Sabrina looked Ven over.

“I bet you would have been a traveler.”

Surprised, he looked back at her.

“What makes you think that?”

“Not every caravan picks up strays like mine does.” she said, simply enough. “Then again, there has to be strays to take in to being with, don’t you think?” A small pause. “You’re so lucky Aqua claimed you before Papa and Mama did. You’d be twice as fat and probably married off by now.”

“Gee, what an opportunity I’ve missed.” Ven chortled. Even Sabrina had to laugh a bit at the thought- not that she thought herself wrong, either.

“Besides,” she went on, looking up at the clouds as well, “Is there anyone else in the village that looks uncannily like you? Not a bit. There’s only one sense of your helpless idiocracy around here, and it belongs to you only.”

“Thanks…?”

“You know I always give the best compliments.”

“And being incredibly humble too.”

“Now you understand.”

They both laughed. The sound of their shared content fluttered through the flowers like butterflies. As silence came in, peace joined with it. A breath between them was the simplest form of intimacy between the duo at the moment.

“I’m so delirious right now.” Sabrina laughed to herself. To Ven she said, “You wanna know a secret, Ven?”

“What could you have that would be worse than ‘I’m a familiar’ and ‘the one I’m tied to is a vampire’?”

That got her to laugh. He liked her laugh. Her real laugh. It didn’t happen all that often.

“I’ve called myself a changeling before.”

Ven quirked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Sabrina nodded. “One of the Willis, specifically. Faerie spirits of heartbroken women whose lovers abandoned them. Usually at the altar, or for another woman.”

“Oh…” Ven moved a bit before venturing to ask, “So you’ve been in a relationship… that ended badly?”

To his surprise, she shook her head.

“Not really. Mostly because I can’t connect with people outside the caravan long enough to have a comfortable relationship.”

“Are you in a relationship now?”

Sabrina lulled her head over to look at him. Her smirk was particularly mischievous as she asked, “Why? Jealous?”

“No!” Ventus immediately blurted out. He then caught himself, giving a small, forced cough before correcting with, “I mean, you called it a comfortable relationship, not a meaningful one. Or even a loving one. What does a comfortable relationship mean to you?”

For a long time, she didn’t answer. When she did, her voice was much, much darker than what it had been moments prior.

“She’s watching us right now, isn’t she?”

“Huh?” was Ven’s first reaction. His next was knowing exactly who she was talking about. Of course he knew Aqua was watching. As much as she liked Sabrina, there were still many things the vampire had to accept before fully trusting the human. Leaving her familiar alone with one for too long (and still so close to her grounds) was one of them.

“Aqua doesn’t have anything to do with our conversation, Sabrina.” Ven told her, his voice taking a more defensive tone.

Sabrina carefully worked to sit up. Ven mirrored her, knowing and fearing the direction their talk was heading into.

Sabrina’s eyes only narrowed at having his eye contact. “Where is she, Ventus?” she once more asked.

Vne could feel the small flare of anger course through his body. And yet, his eyes betrayed him- flicking to a certain window in the castle where, indeed, Aqua was watching them under the guise of needing more light to read her book. Sabrina’s glance matched his own. She didn’t see Aqua. But she knew. She could feel that gaze like she could with Ven right next to her.

“I’m going to bed.” she decided, groaning slightly as she worked her weary body up to its feet.

Ven’s heart immediately felt like someone had dunked it in icy water.

“What? Why?!” he asked, also scrambling to his feet. “It’s barely time for dinner yet.”

Sabrina didn’t acknowledge him. She held her word in making her way back to the castle. It even looked like she would walk back around to the front entrance instead of taking the emergency corridor again.

“Sabrina!” Ven called out, both desperate and exasperated at this point. It was what got her to stop. She looked back at him- her face blank.

“I’ve lost a lot of blood, and I’m tired.” she told him, simply enough. “You can help me back, but don’t expect any more sincere talks.”

Ven’s mouth floundered for a moment. Eventually, all he could do was nod. He let her take the lead, and not a single word was had between them for the rest of the day.

#my writing #writing #writing stuff #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic

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papermoonloveslucy · 2 years ago

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THE GREAT OUTDOORS!

Part 1 ~ The Ricardos & Mertzes Commune with Nature

“I Love Lucy” generally took place indoors - at their East 68th Street apartment or Ricky’s nightclub. As residents of New York City, they had little opportunity to commune with nature - but there were exceptions. In nearly all cases, these outdoorsy moments were staged indoors - in a Hollywood studio.

“The Marriage License” (1952) ~ To correct an error on their original marriage license, Lucy and Ricky travel to Greenwhich, Connecticut to renew their vows. While there, Lucy makes Ricky renact his proposal at the tree bench where it first happened.

LUCY: “Gee. I don’t remember this seat being so small, do you? I guess the tree grew in a little from each side.” RICKY: “Let’s face it, we’ve grown out a little from each side!”

This brush with nature came during the 26th episode filmed and is the very first time Lucy and Ricky have been seen outdoors. The Desilu set designers finally had a chance to use foliage!

“Lucy’s Last Birthday” (1953) ~ Depressed that no one has remembered her birthday, Lucy wanders the city at night, eventually arriving at Central Park - Manhattan’s equivalent of The Great Outdoors.

While sitting alone, the Friends of the Friendless come marching through the trees, stopping to console her. Not used to negotiating the outdoors, FOF extra Barbara Pepper (the only Friendless female) loses her hat on a low-hanging branch!

“The Camping Trip” (1953) ~ Lucy wants to do everything Ricky does - including going on a camping trip to go fishing and duck hunting.

This is by far the most exensive use of greenery in the series. Assessing Lucy’s camping attire, Ethel is typically blunt.

LUCY: “Well, do I look like I stepped out of ‘Field & Stream’?” ETHEL: “You look more like you fell in.”

Although the campsite is located in the woods near a stream, the exact location is never stated. It is must be within driving distance, so likely upstate New York.

“The Fox Hunt” (1956) ~ At an English country manor Lucy goes on a fox hunt, despite never having ridden a horse.

Lucy really gets back to nature by becoming ensared in a bush. Unbeknownst to her, the fox does too!

“Lucy in the Swiss Alps” (1956) ~ After a mistake in booking during their trek through Europe, the Ricardos and Mertzes go mountain climbing in the Swiss Alps.

This establishing shot tells the audience the enivronment that the gang will be dealing with: snow-capped mountains.

The “I Love Lucy” set designers were charged with creating a realistic mountain top, then making it snow!

The Great Outdoors weren’t always green! This sequence was later integrated into the promotion of Paramount+ streaming service, showing various CBS / Paramount characters scaling ‘Mount Paramount’.

“Lucy’s Bicycle Trip” (1956) ~ When leaving Italy for France, Lucy has her heart set on biking along the coast and across the border - until she can’t find her passport!

In the middle of nowhere, she tries everything she can think of to get past the border officials. Before the border, the gang gets in touch with nature by sleeping in a barn!

“Off to Florida” (1956) ~ When Lucy misplaces their train tickets to Miami Beach, she and Ethel must share a car ride to Florida with Edna Grundy (Elsa Lanchester), a woman they suspect might be a hatchet murderess.

Mrs. Grundy insists on driving the backroads from New York City to Florida. Instead of stopping at a roadside cafe, Mrs. Grundy has packed watercress sandwiches, which Lucy calls ‘buttered grass’.

Instead of stopping at a hotel, they simply pull off the road and try to sleep in the car. The ominpresent chirp of crickets keeps them awake.

LUCY: “Who can sleep with all that noise? Sounds like feeding time in a pet shop.”

“Deep Sea Fishing” & “Desert Island” (1956) ~ While visiting Miami Beach, Lucy and Ethel make a bet with Ricky and Fred that they can catch the bigger fish. Not all nature is green or white - sometimes it is blue, too! The scenes on the ocean were filmed in a water tank in Hollywood, while actor doubles were also filmed off the coast of Miami. The two films were then edited together.

When their boat runs out of gas, the gang is stranded on a lush (what they believe to be) deserted island. The island seen in the second unit footage (above) is not nearly as large or verdant as the one built in the studio.

RICKY: “Hey! They have caca-nuts here!” LUCY: “Caca-nuts? (she looks around) Oh, yeah. A lot of caca-nuts.”

Palm trees and whie sands are usually an idyllic way to commune with nature - except when a giant native (Claude Akins) shows up!

“Lucy Raises Tulips” (1957) ~ In Connecticut, Lucy turns gardener. When she takes charge of the rider mower, the landscape changes for the worse - including the garden! For city folks, nothing says Back to Nature more than gardening.

“Lucy Hunts Uranium” (1958) ~ The third of the hour-long episodes later called “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” takes the gang to Las Vegas, where they hunt for uranium with Fred MacMurray. As with previous episodes, this was a combination of studio shooting and second unit location footage.

Location filming took place in California’s Mojave Desert. This is the first time Lucy and Desi have gone on location as the Ricardos.

During the exterior prospecting scene, the actors actually ‘fall asleep’ on a Hollywood sound stage and ‘wake up’ on location in the desert! Movie magic!

Although the actors went on location, the car chase sequences were filmed using stunt doubles intercut with studio-filmed process shots.

“Lucy Goes To Sun Valley” (1958) ~ The gang travels to Sun Valley, Idaho, where they meet Fernando Lamas.

Sun Valley is a resort city where tourists can enjoy ice skating, golfing, hiking, trail riding, cycling, tennis and (of course) skiing on Bald (“Mount Baldy”) Mountain and Dollar Mountain. It was a favorite vacation spot for the Arnaz family. They spent part of their 1952 summer hiatus from “I Love Lucy” at the resort and later returned in 1959, after Lucy and Desi had separated, staying at Ann Sothern’s home.

As usual, the episode was a combination of studio shooting and location footage of the actors at the resort. This episode, however, featured far more location footage than any previous episode.

Lucille Ball was called upon to really get back to nature by skiing, skating, and even frolicking in the snow with animals!

“Lucy Makes Room for Danny” (1958) ~ Danny Williams (Danny Thomas) and his family sublet the Ricardo home during the winter. Building snowmen and throwing snoballs were part of the show’s plot. Unlike their visit to Sun Valley, this snow was a studio creation. The episode was a clever way to tell viewers that “Make Room for Daddy” (aka “The Danny Thomas Show”) would be taking over “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” time slot!

“Lucy Goes To Alaska” (1959) ~ The gang travel to the nation’s newest state to buy some discount land - but end up out in the cold - literally! Red Skelton guest stars.

Although the action is set in and around Nome, the second unit footage was filmed in Lake Arrowhead, California, about 100 miles from Hollywood.

The exteriors were done with doubles and none of the regular cast left the newly-purchased Desilu (formerly RKO) Studios.

“Lucy’s Summer Vacation” (1959) ~ Lucy and Ricky go on vacation to Vermont and end up sharing their cabin with Howard Duff and Ida Lupino.

In the story, Lucy and Ricky have been invited to spend a week at a cabin on (fictional) Lake Wotchasokapoo, Vermont.

The show took the Ricardos out of their Connecticut home, but the scenes were not filmed on location in Vermont, but inside Desilu Studios. There is one brief establishing shot of a lake.

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heydaytravelcompany · 1 year ago

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Foodie Guide to the EPCOT International Festival of the Arts 2024

The EPCOT International Festival of the Arts is just kicking off! Starting Jan. 12 through Feb. 19, EPCOT will embrace the arts in all forms, from music to cuisines, and fill the park with plenty of dazzling experiences to enjoy. With nearly 18 Food Studios filled with expertly crafted bites and delights from our talented teams of chefs and mixologists, guests' taste buds are about to be brought to life with the culinary arts! This year, there are multiple returning favorites, like the Red Wine-braised Beef Short Rib and Deconstructed Key Lime Pie, as well as soon-to-be premiering dishes, like the Neapolitan Dessert Trio and Grilled Pork Belly. As guests eat their way around the World Showcase, they can pick up a Festival Passport to take part in the Wonderful Walk of Colorful Cuisine, a returning food stroll featuring culinary delights. With each bite, collect stamps by purchasing five of these decadent dishes to redeem a special prize from Deco Delights to enjoy. And the Figment love continues this year because not only is Figment’s Inspiration Station at the Odyssey: Art, Food, and Little Sparks of Magic back with its tasty bites, but there’s even a brand-new bucket. The adorable Figment Premium Popcorn Bucket with Rainbow Popcorn features everyone’s favorite imagination enthusiast and draws inspiration from Journey Into Imagination with Figment! We can’t wait to get a peek at everything coming this year, and we're pleased to present the Foodie Guide to the EPCOT International Festival of the Arts 2024! The Deconstructed Dish Food Items: - Deconstructed BLT: Pork belly, onion bread pudding, watercress espuma, and tomato jam - Deconstructed Key Lime Pie: Flexible Key Lime Curd, “Key Lime” Mousse, Graham Cracker Cake, and Meringues (The Wonderful Walk of Colorful Cuisine Item) Beverages: - Deconstructed Strawberry Mint Julep (Non-alcoholic beverage) - Wicked Weed Brewing Blank Canvas Belgian Blonde Witbier - Deconstructed Strawberry Mint Julep with bourbon Cuisine Classique Food Items: - Beef Wellington: Mushroom duxelles, prosciutto, and puff pastry with red wine demi-glace - Cast Iron-roasted P.E.I. mussels with sautéed tomatoes, garlic, and fresh herbs Beverages: - Gulf Stream Brewing Company Sum of All Colors IPA (New) - Tesselaarsdal Pinot Noir (New) Figment’s Inspiration Station at the Odyssey: Art, Food, and Little Sparks of Magic Food Items: - Blueberry-filled Pastry Tart with purple icing (The Wonderful Walk of Colorful Cuisine Item) - Rainbow Cake with freeze dried SKITTLES bite sized candies - Figment Premium Popcorn Bucket with Rainbow Popcorn (Limit two per person, per transaction; available while supplies last.) Beverages: - Grape Smoothie with freeze dried SKITTLES bite sized candies (Non-alcoholic beverage) - 3 Daughters Brewing Black Cherry Hard Cider - 3 Daughters Brewing Blood Orange Hard Cider - 3 Daughters Brewing Passion Fruit Hard Cider - Rainbow Hard Cider Flight - 81Bay Brewing Co. Green with Envy Blonde Ale - 81Bay Brewing Co. Blue Butterfly Lager - Urban Artifact The Gadget Raspberry & Blackberry Midwest Fruit Tart - Rainbow Beer Flight The Craftsman’s Courtyard Food Items: - Grilled Pork Belly with salsa verde, broccoli rabe, pickled peppers, and raclette cheese on grilled sourdough (New) - Grilled Marinated Skirt Steak with caramelized onions and mushrooms, blue cheese fondue, and arugula on a grilled French roll (New) Beverages: - BrewDog Jet Black Heart Nitro Oatmeal Stout - Coffee Old Fashioned Cocktail Refreshment Outpost Beverages: - Parish Brewing Co. Blueberry Mochi Berliner Weisse - The Tank Brewing Co. Street Art Amber - Brewery Ommegang Neon Rainbows IPA Pastoral Palate Food Items: - Red Wine-braised Beef Short Rib with parsnip purée, broccolini, baby tomatoes, and balsamic glaze - Black Forest Cake: Chocolate mousse with morello cherries and chantilly cream Beverages: - 3 Daughters Brewing Rosé Hard Cider - 81Bay Brewing Co. Rosé Blonde Ale - Frozen Rosé - A Play on Rosé Flight - Marietta Old Vine Rosé The Artist’s Table Food Items: - Duck and Dumplings: Smoked duck breast, ricotta dumplings, baby vegetables, and duck jus - Hummingbird Cake: Banana and pecan cake dipped in cream cheese icing with caramel sauce and warm pineapple compote Beverages: - Wicked Weed Pineapple Daydream IPA (New) - Brew Hub Jazzberry Wheat Jam Ale (New) - Lost Coast Brewery Peanut Butter Chocolate Milk Stout (New) - Migration Pinot Noir (New) - Beer Flight also available Tangierine Café: Flavors of the Medina Food Items: - Grilled Kebabs with carrot-chickpea salad and garlic aïoli - Chermoula Chicken - Moroccan-spiced Lamb - Stone-baked Moroccan Bread with hummus, chermoula, and zhoug dips (Plant-based Item) - Chocolate Cake with pomegranate mousse and pomegranate whipped cream (New) Beverages: - Twinings Chai Tea with Sprite and mint (Non-alcoholic beverage) - Blake’s Hard Cider Co. Grizzly Pear Hard Cider (New) - Rekorderlig Strawberry-Lime Hard Cider (New) - Keel Farms Blueberry Lavender Hard Cider (New) - Chai Tea Mint Mimosa: Twinings Chai Tea with Key lime sparkling wine and mint (New) - Hard Cider Flight Vibrante & Vívido: Encanto Cocina Food Items: - Chorizo and Potato Empanada with turmeric aïoli and annatto aïoli (The Wonderful Walk of Colorful Cuisine Item) - Passion Fruit-filled Mango Cheesecake with coconut-pineapple cake, dragon fruit gelée, and dragon fruit-strawberry sauce (New) Beverages: - Coconut and Passion Fruit Smoothie (Non-alcoholic beverage) - Frozen Piña Colada - Passion Fruit Daiquiri Gourmet Landscapes Food Items: - Verjus-roasted Beets with goat cheese, petite lettuce, blackberry gastrique, and spiced pecans (New) (The Wonderful Walk of Colorful Cuisine Item) - Roasted Bone Marrow with onion marmalade, pickled mushrooms, and petite lettuce - Wild Mushroom Risotto with truffle shavings and zinfandel reduction (Plant-based Item) Beverages: - Whole Hog Brewery Raspberry Chéret Double Radler - Schlumberger Cuvée Klimt Brut - The Meeker Vineyard Winemaker’s Handprint Merlot - Frozen Scotch Cocktail: Scotch and herbal tea garnished with a chocolate nail Refreshment Port Food Items: - Gnocchi Poutine with red wine-braised beef, cheese curds, basil, and burrata - Artist Palette Jumbo Chocolate Chip Cookie Beverages: - Blood Orange Cosmo: Boyd & Blair Potato Vodka with blood orange, cranberry, and lime - Boulevard Brewing Co. Quirk Blueberry Lemon & Lavender Hard Seltzer Deco Delights Food Item: - Neapolitan Dessert Trio: Chocolate tart, vanilla bean cheesecake, and strawberry mousse (New) (The Wonderful Walk of Colorful Cuisine Item) Beverages: - 3 Daughters Brewing Strawberry Blonde Nitro - 81Bay Brewing Co. Vanilla Porter - Playalinda Brewing Co. Milk Stout - Espresso Martini featuring Boyd & Blair Potato Vodka - Beer Flight Pop Eats Food Items: - Tomato Soup with Grilled Cheese - Tomato Soup with pimento cheese, bacon, and fried green tomato grilled cheese - Rock the Dots White Chocolate and Orange Mousse with vanilla bean chiffon cake (New) Beverages: - Brooklyn Brewery Pulp Art Hazy IPA - Blanc de Bleu Cuvée Mousseux with boba pearls Refreshment Station - Frozen Slushy: Coca-Cola, dragon fruit, or watermelon Connections Eatery Beverage: - Orange-Lemonade Cocktail: Three Olives Blueberry Vodka, lemonade, and orange juice with cotton candy L’Art de la Cuisine Française Food Items: - Crème de Brie en Petit Pain: Warm creamy brie in a house-made bread bowl - Saumon Fumé Mousse et Aspic, Blini et Fromage de Chevre: Salmon mousse, smoked salmon, dill, and flaxseed biscuit, served cold (New) - Vol-au-Vent de Saumon et Epinards, Sauce Chardonnay: Puff pastry with salmon and spinach and a chardonnay-shallot sauce, served warm (New) - Duo de Saumon Hot and Cold: Enjoy both of the salmon offerings (New) - Moelleux aux Noisettes, Croustillant Noisettes, Coulis Framboise et Mangue: Molten Valrhona chocolate cake, hazelnut crunch, and mango-raspberry coulis (New) Beverages: - Frozen French Martini: Grey Goose Vodka, Chambord liqueur, pineapple, orange, and grape juices with lemon-lime foam - Elderflower Liqueur Cocktail: St. Germain Liqueur, sparkling wine, and mint (New) - Charles Lafite, Brut Rosé Prestige, Méthode Traditionnel Champenoise French Rosé Sparkling Wine - Pinot Noir J. de Villebois (New) El Artista Hambriento Food Items: - Carne Asada: Chipotle-marinated beef sirloin, grilled queso fresco, Nopales salad with queso fresco foam and chicharron dust Beverages: - Mexican Craft Beer - Rubí Delicioso Margarita: Tromba Blanco Tequila, Lejay Blackcurrant Liqueur, citrus, mint, spicy agave, and beet juice - Smokey Banana Bliss Margarita: Ten to One Rum, Ilegal Mezcal Joven, banana purée, and lime juice Goshiki Food Items: - Wagyu Bun: Steamed bun filled with American wagyu beef served with green shiso sauce - Sushi Donut: Donut-shaped Sushi featuring salmon, tuna, shrimp, cucumber, and sesame seed over a decorated plate of wasabi aïoli, sriracha aïoli, and eel sauce - Ichigo Mochi – Daifuku: Daifuku mochi filled with fresh strawberry, sweet azuki bean paste, and white chocolate served with strawberry cream Beverages: - Murasaki Blueberry Drink: Sweet blueberry and cream (Non-alcoholic beverage) - Mikan Orange IPA - Masu Sake in a traditional personalized wooden cup - Blueberry Cocktail: Nigori sake with sweet blueberry, cream, and yuzu The Painted Panda Food Items: - General Tso’s Chicken Shumai - Char Siu Pork Bun - Sesame Balls with red bean paste Beverages: - Black and White Bubble Tea with black tea, milk, chocolate, and black & white boba pearls (Non-alcoholic beverage) - Lucky Foo Pale Ale - Silk River Hard Lemonade with vodka, lavender-coconut syrup, and lemonade - Butterfly Blue: Butterfly pea flower-infused cocktail with vodka, light rum, lychee syrup, and magic boba pearls L’Arte di Mangiare Food Items: - Mozzarella Fritta: Flash-fried breaded fresh mozzarella with artist palette condiments - Conchiglie Ripiene: Baked stuffed conchiglie pasta with beef, ricotta, peas, pomodoro, and creamy sauce - Torta Ricotta di Cioccolata: Chocolate cheesecake and whipped cream Beverages: - Peroni Pilsner - Langhe Nebbiolo - Prosecco - Italian Sangria (Red or White) - Italian Margarita with tequila and limoncello - Elderflower Sparkling Cocktail: Mint-infused elderflower liqueur, prosecco, and sparkling blood orange Swirled Showcase Food Items: - Soft-serve in a Waffle Cone - Vanilla - Chocolate - Cupcake (New) - Cream Soda Float with Vanilla Soft-serve - Strawberry Fanta Float with cupcake soft-serve (New) Funnel Cake - Crazy Chocolate Funnel Cake Sandwich: Mini funnel cake sandwich with vanilla ice cream, rainbow whipped cream, strawberry sauce, powdered sugar, and sprinkles (New) Joffrey’s Coffee & Tea Company World Discovery (Near Mission: SPACE) - Pistachio Palette Cold Brew: A flavorful masterpiece featuring Joffrey’s Shakin’ Jamaican Cold Brew, pistachio syrup, and milk topped with whipped cream and colorful sprinkles Near Canada - Realism Roseberry Cold Brew: A lively swirl of flavors featuring Joffrey’s Shakin’ Jamaican Cold Brew, strawberry rose syrup, and milk topped with whipped cream and colorful sprinkles (Alcoholic version available with Bailey’s Irish Cream Liqueur) Showcase Plaza (Near Disney Traders) - Brushstroke Berry Bliss: A vibrant combination of frozen lemon, Minute Maid Lemonade, raspberry syrup, and iced tea garnished with lemon (Alcoholic version available with Grey Goose Vodka) The American Adventure - Pastel Pineberry Frost: A pastel work of art featuring frozen lemon, Minute Maid Lemonade, and pineberry syrup garnished with lemon (Alcoholic version available with Grey Goose Vodka) Another exciting and delicious year for the EPCOT International Festival of the Arts lies ahead! I can’t wait to experience the festival this year and taste all of these delicious dishes and sips. The tasty adventures are truly endless when you visit Disney Parks, especially during a festival! (Note: All offerings are subject to change and availability.) Read the full article

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cuteellaarts · 2 years ago

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Fanart of Budapest from the 'Palinurus' visual novel written by Watercress Studios. I played Palinurus last year and the story has stuck with me since.

#anime #blueeyes #characterart #fanart #girl #longhair #portrait #redhair #traditionalart #visualnovel

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archived-watercress-blog · 6 years ago

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Come see us at RTX Austin! Our panel is on August 4th at 1pm, in Room 8, ACC Level 3. Watercress: Storytelling in Indie Games.

#rtx #rtx austin 2018 #rtx 2018 #watercress studios #visual novel #visual novel game #english visual novel

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goldenraeofsun · 4 years ago

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Remember Me, Honeybee

Part I

Two hours into the farmers market, and Dean’s had enough. Even the gorgeous day outside, sunlight streaming down from a cloudless sky, does nothing for him.

Next to him in their produce stall, Sam rearranges their vegetable display with all the intensity of Bobby Fischer facing off against the Soviets. He adjusts an eggplant a few inches to the left, eyes it critically, and moves it back where it was.

Yesterday, Dean got sunburned from too many hours in the sun harvesting. But before he could even think about a shower, a visitor pounded on their door because some neighbor ratted them out to local Fish and Wildlife. So on top of dealing with a peeling forehead and an aching back, Dean had to take care of Ms. Rosen nearly breaking and entering to get at Sam or his watercress - she wasn’t really clear on which was her priority.

Sam, the cowardly sasquatch, bolted the moment her car tires pulled up to their farm.

It took an hour to get Ms. Rosen to leave. First, Dean had to show her Sam’s pet watercress plants at the edge of their property. According to Ms. Rosen, they’re an invasive species, which Sam could’ve mentioned to Dean at some point. Then, Ms. Rosen explained the $150 fine - all the while heavily implying she could dock a few bucks if left alone in a room with Sam.

Dean forked over the money. Sam’s virtue got to live to see another day.

At least Becky gave Dean plenty of blackmail material. If Sam pisses him off one more time, guess who’s getting Sam’s phone number faxed straight to her field office?

Dean was looking forward to sharing the whole story with Cas when they pulled up to the farmer’s market that morning. But his favorite beekeeper, potter, and candlestick maker is notably absent again.

As Hannah steps away from her stall to replenish her display, Dean seizes his chance. “Be right back,” he calls to Sam as he darts out behind their table.

When she catches sight of him, Hannah turns her back to lift a crate of soaps that would’ve left Dean sore for days. Goddamn angel strength.

“I may be a dumb human,” Dean starts, “but even I know that angels don’t get sick.” His voice drips with disdain. “Where’s Cas? The real reason, this time. Not that BS you fed me last week.”

Hannah sighs, her normally refined tawny wings fluttering in barely-concealed agitation. “He’s… indisposed.”

Dean folds his arms over his chest. “Cas has been here, rain or shine, every market for two whole friggin’ years. Is he,” he forces out the words, dread trickling down his spine, “dying or something?”

“No.” Hannah shakes her head. “He’s not mortally ill. He’s just indisposed.”

Dean gawks at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You have customers,” Hannah says shortly.

Dean waves off a soccer mom armed with a bushel of kale and a hungry leer. “Sam’s handling the orders.” He points at the line in front of Sam, and the lady walks off in a huff.

“Is that right?” Hannah asks innocently once Dean’s attention darts back to her.

“Cut the crap,” Dean says sharply. “Why hasn’t Cas shown for the past two weeks? The real reason. None of that indisposed bullshit.”

Hannah sighs. “You’re keeping me from my own customers.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’d better talk fast.”

Hannah makes a face like she smelled Sam’s post-Chipotle farts. “Castiel was cursed.”

“What?”

“Keep it down,” Hannah hisses, leaning in. “He - well, it’s a long story. Our cousin, an archangel, cursed him.”

“For fuck’s sake, why?”

Hannah’s lips purse. “Gabriel has been very hard to contact for the details. He apparently thought Castiel was moping too loudly or too frequently. ”

“Moping?” Dean echoes, his brow furrowing. “Cas always seemed fine to me.”

Hannah shrugs. “Ask Gabriel. Now, if you don’t mind,” she lifts her nose into the air, wings straightening, “I have customers.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean retreats to his vegetable stand, his head swimming.

Dean never saw himself as a farmer until his health nut little brother decided to ditch his high-paying (and stressful) lawyer job to play Green Acres, and Dean, naturally, followed since there was no goddamn way Sam knew his way around a tractor. Sam was more likely to mow down his own gigantor foot than move a clod of dirt. Luckily, to Dean, an engine’s an engine.

At the farmers market, Sam’s booth was placed next to Cas’s. On their first day, Cas walked over with a complimentary jar of honey. He was stilted and awkward, sure, but he was also the first one to welcome them into the fold.

Lost in thoughts and worries about Cas, Dean almost gives a customer a twenty dollar bill instead of a one, blanks on when their summer squash will be in season, and accidentally rings up asparagus as broccoli.

“Look,” Sam says after apologizing for Dean’s latest mistake, “why don’t you head back and check on the tomatoes? It’s winding down here.”

Dean dubiously eyes the hubbub of people browsing vegetables.

Sam gives him a light shove towards their truck. “Just go. I know you don’t want to be here, anyway.”

Dean grimaces. “It’s that obvious?”

“To everyone and their grandmother,” Sam says under his breath.

Asparagus Man at the front of the line nods gravely.

“Thanks,” Dean says sourly to both of them.

“Go check on Cas,” Sam says as he gestures for the next customer to step up to the register. “Swing by and pick me up in a few hours.”

* * *

At the foot of the unpaved driveway up to Cas’s house, Dean cuts the engine. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel, debating with himself. Cas might not want visitors.

But Dean brought pie.

Homemade, of course. And if it was supposed to celebrate Sam’s birthday tomorrow, what Cas doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Sam likes cake better, anyway, because he’s a freak.

Dean grabs the pie, shoves open the door, and strides up the dirt road to Cas’s house before he can talk himself out of it for good.

This is what you do for sick friends, anyway. Charlie drove all the way up to the city with chicken noodle soup, Settlers of Catan, and prime gossip on Benny’s on-and-off-again thing with Andrea when Dean had the flu a few years ago.

Dean is just being a good friend. It’s not weird.

He knocks on Cas’s cobalt blue door, his heart beating double-time behind his ribs as the seconds wear on with no answer.

Dean dawdles on Cas’s welcome mat. He tries again. Cas’s house isn’t exactly small, with its pottery studio in the basement and wax room in the back. Cas might be in his nest, on the can, or in his garden by the hives. Hell, with this mysterious curse, Cas might not be home at all - but stuck in some angel hospital being poked and prodded by docs. He probably should have squeezed Hannah for more details.

The door opens as Dean contemplates, for the hundredth time, bailing with his tail between his legs.

“Hello?” Cas says, peering curiously at Dean.

“Cas,” Dean says, relieved. From one cursory look, Cas seems normal. His hair’s fucked up, of course. His dark wings are equally unkempt, feathers sticking out every which way. All typical Cas.

Cas blinks. His mouth opens, closes, and opens again. But no sound comes out.

“You’re up,” Dean says stupidly. Of course Cas is up, or he wouldn’t have been able to answer the damn door. Dean shifts his weight to his other foot. “Hannah mentioned you’d, uh, been cursed,” he says awkwardly.

Cas relaxes a fraction. “Ah, yes, I was.”

Dean gives Cas another once-over. “I just found out this morning, so I thought I’d stop by. Bring pie." He holds up the pie as evidence. "See how you are. But you look good.”

Cas squints at him, his head tilting. “Thank you?” he asks like he had a half-dozen responses in his head and chose that one at random.

“No prob.”

Cas’s gaze darts down to the pie in Dean’s hands for the first time. “Would you like to come in?”

Dean grins. “Yeah,” he says, stepping inside. “I’ll take this to the kitchen. I’m starving. Do you wanna eat it now?”

Cas gestures him forward. “This way.”

Dean throws him a funny look but follows him to the kitchen he’s been in about a hundred times before - for Cas’s annual Spring Equinox party, for a handful of dinners with other farmers in the area, for water breaks in between weeding Cas’s bee-friendly garden.

Afternoon sunlight from the beautiful day outside streams through the large windows that overlook the back porch and garden. It illuminates the kitchen table, absolutely covered with what looks like all of Cas’s beekeeping books.

Dean clears enough space for pie and strides over to the drawer for the baking utensils, saying over his shoulder, “I hope you’re hungry.”

When Cas doesn’t answer, Dean hastily turns back around - only to find himself practically nose-to-nose with Cas.

Dean takes an instinctive step backwards, his ass smacking the drawer closed again. “Dude,” he says in a strangled voice. His heart pounds in his chest at the close proximity and intense look in Cas’s eye. “We talked about this. Personal space.”

Cas retreats, his brow furrowing. “My apologies,” he mumbles. “I must have misread the situation.”

“I - yeah - I guess,” Dean stutters as he grabs plates and stacks two forks on top.

Cas falls heavily into a seat at the kitchen table. Silently, he moves enough books around for them to sit and eat.

Dean eyes the haphazard piles as he takes his own seat. “D’you have a problem with one of the hives or something?”

Cas shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he says, his brow furrowing. “But it’s hard to tell.”

Dean snorts as he cuts them both slices. “I thought you knew everything about bees.”

Cas shoots him a dour look. “I did,” he says pointedly.

“Did?”

Cas fusses with a pamphlet on colony collapse. “I’m trying to catch up, but there is a lot of information to learn.”

Dean frowns. “Catch up to what?”

“To where I was,” Cas says, head tilting.

Dean sets the pie server down to focus on Cas, since he’s not making any goddamn sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cas looks at him like Dean’s the one who lost his mind. “I don’t remember how to take care of them.” After a beat, he clarifies, “The bees. I’ve spent the better part of two weeks relearning how to maintain the hives, harvest honey, check if there is enough honey to harvest...” he drifts off, looking more than a little lost.

Dean blinks. “That’s the curse?” He grimaces as he forks off a generous corner of pie. “Dick move on Gabriel’s part. That’s your goddamn livelihood.”

Cas tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “He didn’t just make me forget the bees.”

Dean chews at Cas thoughtfully. “What else? Please tell me you forgot that time with the goat and a hooker.”

Cas stares at him. “I don’t remember anything.”

Dean’s next bite of pie freezes halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean anything?” he demands.

“I didn’t think it needed explaining,” Cas says waspishly, as all the pieces finally fall into place for Dean. “I thought Hannah told you about it.” His feathers rustle against the back of his chair.

“Hannah only said you were cursed!” Dean flails, “Not that you have goddamned amnesia. Do you know what pie is? Do you know who I am?”

Cas blinks, a little taken aback by Dean’s reaction. “I retain my general knowledge. I know what pie is,” he says. “I don’t remember eating it, but I know it is meat or fruit wrapped in pastry.”

“Oh my god.”

Cas’s gaze falls to the uneaten pie in front of him. “And, no, I don’t know who you are.”

Dean blinks, all the blood draining from his face. He forces out, “You’re serious.”

“I’d hardly joke with a stranger,” Cas says frankly.

Dean lets his fork drop back to the plate with a clatter.

Cas peers at him curiously. “The curse erased all my personal memories, but I was assuming we were friends, is this right? You know your way around my house, and Hannah wouldn’t have divulged my condition to just anyone.”

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly, “we’re friends. I - my brother and me, we have a stand next to yours at the farmer’s market.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “Work colleagues, then.”

Dean snorts. “A little more than that.”

Cas bites his lip. “But you told me to respect your personal space. If we were -”

“Woah!” Dean cuts in before Memento can come up with any more bright ideas, “We’re close friends, alright?” he says before Cas can get another word out, “But not… like that.”

Dean doesn’t even know if Cas goes for humans. Most angels don’t. Cas never mentioned any romantic partners, and Dean never pressed. Better to keep that box locked up tight. Cas never shied away from giving his opinion to Dean or anyone else. He’s the most blunt, sincere person Dean knows - angel or human.

If he felt anything for Dean - the barest speck of more-than-friendly feelings, he’d have said something.

“Oh,” Cas says, and, behind him, his wings droop the smallest fraction.

Dean scans the table and pushes Cas’s worn copy of The How-To-Do-It Book of Bee-Keeping by Richard Taylor his way. “Test me.”

“What?”

Dean shovels more pie into his mouth. “As’ me anyfin’,” he mumbles.

Bemused, Cas opens the book to a random page. “How do you use a bee escape?” he reads aloud.

“Do you know what they are?” At Cas’s headshake, Dean holds his fingers about three inches apart, “They’re little plastic doodads with little bee-sized holes in the middle. You slide ‘em in the hive right before you’re about to harvest. Once they’re fitted, you smoke out the bees, one comb at a time. Once they’re out of the way, you can scrape off the honey.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Do you also keep bees?”

Dean can’t help his loud laugh. “God no,” he says as he closes his mouth around another bite of pie. “I’m just a farmer. But I’ve helped you out a few times.”

At least twice a month since Dean moved to this corner of semi-rural America, but who’s counting. Honey is only harvested once a year, but Cas can always use an extra set of hands in his garden. Or around the house. Dean’s worked off more than one argument with Sam by kneading clay in Cas’s pottery studio basement.

“So you know all this from me,” Cas says dubiously.

“Sure do,” Dean says, smacking his lips as he debates another slice of Cas’s get-well-soon pie. “You’re a good teacher, and once you get on a roll about the bees, it’s kinda hard to shut you up.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” Dean says as he cuts himself another (smallish) slice. “I look hot in a beekeeper suit, anyway.”

Cas frowns, confused. “Do most humans find baggy coveralls and heavy veils sexually appealing?”

Dean snorts. “That was a joke.”

Dean doesn’t mention that he finds the beekeeper getup hot as hell as long as it’s Cas wearing it.

It’s just - Cas doesn’t usually bother with the veil since he likes to have a full range of vision when caring for his bees. Dean once let a whole comb drop on his foot at the sight of Cas bent over, wholly concentrated on the hive, a barely-there smile hidden in the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes were luminous in the bright sunlight, and every few seconds he would lick his lips, probably to wipe away the beads of sweat gathering on his upper lip.

“Oh,” Cas says, a faint blush touching his cheeks. His gaze drops to his plate, and his wings sag behind him.

Dean mentally kicks himself. Cas might still have all a whole encyclopedia shoved in his brain, but jokes will fly right over his head like so many of Cas’s precious bees. Since Dean started hanging around, he had been getting better with the jokes and references, but Total Recall Cas got that goddamn factory reset, so Dean has to cool it for now.

“Forget it,” he tells Cas. “I’m an asshole.”

Cas squints across the table at him. “You are not.”

“Huh?”

Cas carefully spears off a bit of pie. “You came by to check on me, offer me food,” he slips his fork into his mouth, eyes closing as he savors the tart cherries and buttery pastry, “stay and talk.”

“I, mean, yeah,” Dean says, wrongfooted, “we’re friends. ‘S the least I could do.”

Cas has another bite. “This is really good.”

“Thanks,” Dean says before he crams the rest of his slice into his mouth. He studies Cas as they both eat, an uncomfortable foreboding settling deep in his stomach. Now he sees it, how Cas doesn’t look at him with any familiarity. It’s more like, to Cas, Dean is some fucked up jigsaw puzzle slash zoo animal. Eventually, Dean has to ask, “Are you going to get your memories back?”

Cas shakes his head, his expression hardening. “I’m not sure.”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious?” He braces both elbows on the table. “But you were cursed - there’s gotta be a way to break it. That’s how curses work, right?”

Cas exhales a slow sigh. “Gabriel did say there was a way to break it.”

“And you haven’t yet?” Dean demands, almost offended on Cas’s - his Cas’s - behalf. “You’re okay forgetting your whole life?”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you insane?” he hisses, his feathers puffing up like an angry cat. “Of course I am not ‘okay,’” he says, air quotes and all, which Dean hasn’t seen since he told Cas they were lame. (He felt bad about it for a week afterward and gave Cas a free apology pumpkin. First of the season.)

“I am able to navigate the outside world as well as a human toddler,” Cas continues heatedly. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past two weeks?”

Dean huffs an impatient breath. “What have you tried so far?”

Cas grimaces. “Gabriel said it could be broken like all curses could be broken.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I have no clue,” Cas says frankly. “I spent a week in Heaven’s archives and libraries. The most common way to break curses is by consuming a stone taken from the stomach of a goat -”

Dean makes a gagging noise.

“-or bathing in the blood of a virgin at the new moon.”

“Not any less gross,” Dean says emphatically. “Where the hell are you going to get virgin blood? Are they talking about, like, a whole virgin? Or does born again count?”

Cas shakes his head. “The new moon was four days ago.”

Dean frowns. “Did you have to do the blood thing?”

From the look on Cas’s face, Dean isn’t going to make him watch Carrie anytime soon.

“So I went to more obscure magic,” Cas continues. “I tried bathing in a natural source of water. And then I ran a bath and filled it with salt, since salt repels evil.”

“All I’m hearing is lots of bathing so far.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I lit sage in every room and burned three types of wood. I wore an evil eye bracelet. I sprinkled consecrated water blended with honey over the threshold.”

“No dice?”

Cas throws him a baleful look. “I have ants now.”

Dean snorts. “Well that sucks,” he says, since what else can you say when your best friend swaps all his memories for a Bug's Life?

Cas sighs. “From my notes and research, I can’t leave the hives completely unattended, so I’ve spent the past few days trying to figure out how not to kill them,” he says, gesturing to the rest of the kitchen table. “Once I’ve determined if the bees will survive on their own, I can look back into the curse.”

Dean purses his lips. “Have you prayed to Gabriel? Tried to convince him to take it back?”

“Every day since it happened,” Cas says, his face somber.

“Alright,” Dean says, grabbing Cas’s empty plate, “I can’t help with the curse stuff since I save the teen witch adventures for Sabrina. I can help with the bees, though, if you want.” He gets to his feet and dumps the plates in the sink.

Once his back is turned, he frowns as he thinks his words over. Who knows if this Cas actually wants him around? This Cas doesn’t know him from Adam.

To the dishes Dean says, “The next beekeeper is a few towns over. I could give him a call for you, if you’d rather have him. Cain’s mostly retired, so he’d probably have the time to show you the ropes.”

“Is Cain an angel?”

Dean laughs over the splashing water. “No, he’s a crotchety old bastard who would rather live with bees than people. You get along.” He sets the rinsed plates out to dry and faces Cas. “I’m sure you have his number in your phone too, come to think of it.”

Cas meets Dean’s cautious gaze with his usual soul-searing stare. “I wouldn’t mind if you helped me. Maybe I could call Cain if there are any advanced problems we can’t figure out together.”

Dean smiles. “Sounds like a plan.” He jerks his head towards the backyard. “You wanna get suited up?”

“Now?” Cas asks, alarmed.

“No time like the present,” Dean says as he walks out of the kitchen without waiting for Cas to follow. “Come on, we’re wasting daylight.”

* * *

Cas stares at his beekeeper suit, hanging in its usual place on his screened back porch, next to his gardening gloves.

“You okay?” Dean asks. “You’ve got a spare in your shed, so I’ll grab it on the way.”

Cas picks up the suit like it’s about to bite him.

“’S a good thing I’m here,” Dean says as Cas slowly unzips the front. “It’s always a bitch to get your wings covered.”

Cas’s wings slump. “I have a feeling this is going to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Hey,” Dean says, taking a step forward, “no, it’s your bees. You love them.”

Cas frowns. “But I don’t remember how.”

Dean grins. “Then you’re a lucky son of a bitch who gets to fall in love with something all over again.” He sighs wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to erase Star Wars from my brain and watch it again for the first time.”

“What is Star Wars?”

“A trilogy of movies from the 70s and 80s,” Dean says, his smile widening.

Cas nods. “I’ll have to rewatch them, then.”

“Damn right,” Dean says. “I gave you the DVDs for my birthday last year, so they should be around here somewhere.”

“For your birthday?” Cas asks, eyebrows rising. “Isn’t gift-giving normally the other way around?”

Dean shrugs. “But I’d been bugging you to watch ‘em with me for years. Trust me, it was an awesome birthday.”

Cas opens his mouth like he’s not sure where to poke holes in Dean’s story first, so Dean reaches for the wing covers. “I think we should do the hard part first.”

“You’re currently the expert,” Cas says as he sets the suit aside.

Dean frowns as he takes in Cas’s black wings, reflecting muted tones of magenta, purple, cobalt, and green. Normally, Cas rocks the sex wing look - a few feathers askew here and there like someone raked their fingers through them - but now his wings look more like Cas stuck his alulas in an electrical socket.

Without thinking, Dean says, “It’s gonna be hard to get them in the wing covers. They’re a little messed up, dude.” As Cas’s face falls, Dean adds quickly, “Nothing a little grooming can’t fix.”

Cas flushes. “I haven’t been able to reach my whole wingspan on my own. Hannah offered-” he breaks off, his gaze skittering around to settle just over Dean’s left shoulder. “But I don’t know her, not really, so I was uncomfortable accepting.”

Dean takes a step back. “I mean, you don’t need to do it. I’ll have to touch a couple feathers to get these on you, if you’re okay with that.”

Cas swallows. “No, you’re right. My wings are a mess.”

Dean’s fingers practically tingle with the urge to reach out and smooth down the closest feathers, but he shoves his free hand deep into his pocket instead.

“Can you help me?” Cas asks.

Dean quietly dies inside.

Cas’s wings flutter in anticipation, and Dean is so, so weak.

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly as he drops the wing cover and approaches Cas’s back. “You sure, man? I - I’ve never done this before.”

Cas turns his head. “Never?”

Dean clenches his hands into fists. Don’t touch. Not until he says so. Dean can keep his goddamn hands to himself. Cas deserves that much.

“Do you want me to walk you through it?” Cas asks softly. “I know how, since it’s only personal memories about my life that seem to have been affected.”

“Ah,” Dean hesitates, a hundred and one wing kink porn videos flashing through his head like popup ads. “No,” he coughs, “I know the mechanics.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

Dean fidgets in place. “‘S like picking beans, right? Don’t pull on them too hard. They’ll come off if they want to come off. Make sure nothing is sticking out at weird angles.”

Cas makes a face. “Did you just compare my wings to legumes?”

“Maybe?” Dean says defensively. “Look, I know vegetables, and I know what your wings are supposed to look like. What else do you want from me?”

Cas’s mouth opens, but no words come out. With a sigh, he faces forward, presenting his wings for Dean.

Dean inhales a deep breath. Christ, his hands are goddamn shaking. Get a fucking grip, Winchester. He lightly touches the base of Cas’s left wing.

Cas shivers, the feathers rippling.

Dean yanks his hand back.

“Sorry,” Cas says sheepishly. “You took me by surprise. Please continue.”

Gently, Dean grazes the base of the wing again. The feathers rustle like under a moderate breeze, but Cas doesn’t tell him to stop, so Dean keeps going. He feels along the surface of Cas’s wings, most of the feathers slipping, glossy smooth, under his fingertips - until he catches the first snag. Nerves rocketing up to eleven, Dean tugs lightly on the first feather out of place.

Cas sucks in a breath.

It comes loose, and Dean has a fleeting, stupid thought to steal it for himself. But he lets it flutter to the floor.

Dean soldiers on, biting his lip as he tries to keep himself from grabbing handfuls of feathers and burying his face in Cas’s wings. Meticulously, painstakingly, he combs through the mess. As he moves closer to the second joint, Cas’s feathers, which had been subtly shifting the whole time, stiffen.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

Cas nods, stilted. “Please continue,” he says, his voice rough.

Dean frowns. If Cas is uncomfortable and doesn’t want to tell him, Dean’s not going to be the asshole who turns a blind eye to the signs. He withdraws his hands, and Cas’s wings -

They flare out, seeking Dean’s touch.

Without thinking, Dean blurts an astounded, “Dude.”

“Apologies,” Cas says, and, from this angle, Dean has primetime viewing of the back of Cas’ traffic light-red neck. His wings retreat to fold stiff as a board behind Cas’s back.

“Hey, no,” Dean says as he lays a hand along Cas’s wing, petting it gently. “I just wanted to check in with you.” He grins lopsidedly, not that Cas can see him. “Communication is important.”

Cas coughs. “Indeed,” he says, and his voice still sounds off. “Please continue. I,” he breaks off, turning a little in place so Dean can see half of his face, “I was enjoying it.”

“Good,” Dean says with a little too much enthusiasm. “I - uh, me too.”

Cas blinks. “You were?” He frowns. “Grooming is… boring. A chore.”

“Not for humans,” Dean says as he picks up where he left off. “We don’t have big fancy wings to lug around everywhere. They’re-”

“What?” Cas waits, clearly expecting an answer.

Dean sighs. “Cool,” he supplies lamely. “Your wings are cool.”

Dean can’t see Cas’s face with his back turned, but his wings fluff up ever so slightly, so Dean counts it as a win. “I’m glad you think so,” Cas says quietly.

“’Course,” Dean says, easy as pie. He pulls on another feather, and, when it doesn’t come out, tucks it back into its proper place, “I’ve never seen an angel with wings like yours. Malachi’s got dark grey ones, and I thought they were your shade of black, but they’re not. Plus, he’s an asshole.”

Cas chuckles. “I don’t see how him being an asshole has anything to do with his wing color.”

“No, but, if you ever run into him - an angel with dark grey wings - now you know.”

“So you’re only looking out for me.”

“You don’t know this yet,” Dean tells him conspiratorially, “but I’m awesome.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to see that for myself.”

Thank God Cas can’t see Dean’s face. Equally embarrassed and pleased, Dean rambles, “You should also watch out for Metatron - the white-winged dude who runs the thrift shop down the road. He’s been angling to set up shop at the farmers market for fucking ever even though he has a storefront for all his crap. Whoever said white wings meant purity was full of shit because Metatron’s a douche.”

Cas laughs, and Dean nearly slumps over in relief.

He can still make Cas laugh.

“Hannah, she’s okay,” Dean continues as he combs through the rest of Cas’s secondaries and coverts before he gets to the primaries, large and built for flight, and completely within Cas’s reach to groom himself. “But her partner, Duma, hates you for some reason, so I’d steer clear of her.”

Cas’s wings dip a few inches. “It doesn’t sound like I’m on good terms with many angels.”

Dean lightly runs his palm over Cas’s flight feathers - while he’s back here, he might as well. “I guess not,” he admits because Cas is right, “but they’ve all got massive sticks up their asses, so you’re better off.”

“They’re family.”

“They’re dicks,” Dean corrects. “Come on, you’re goddamn cursed with amnesia , and not one is here helping you out? Dick move for dick angels,” he finishes.

“Hannah visited.”

“Like I said, Hannah’s okay,” Dean says as he straightens up.

“At least you’re here,” Cas points out.

“Yeah,” Dean says bitterly as he brushes out bits of fluffy down near the base of Cas other wing, “After two weeks.”

“You said you didn’t know.”

“I should’ve.”

“How?” Cas asks, sounding baffled.

Dean scoffs as he cards his fingers through the shorter feathers near the bone of Cas’s wing, “You didn’t show at the farmers market. You always show.”

“But-”

Dean shakes his head. “I should’ve known something was up.” He yanks a little too hard on a feather, and the brittle shaft breaks between his thumb and pointer finger. Dean lets it fall to the floor in disgust. “But Hannah said you were sick, and I didn’t know if you were the type who wanted company or everyone to stay the hell away. And then I talked to Sammy, and he said angels don’t really get sick like we do.” He exhales a slow breath, consciously holding himself back from tearing any more feathers out. Cas doesn’t deserve that, especially after all the shit he’s dealing with.

“We do get sick,” Cas says, his voice breaking through Dean’s morose reminiscing of the past week, “But never with the type of illnesses that can be treated outside of Heaven.”

“That’s what Sammy told me,” Dean says heavily.

“You were worried?”

Dean pokes him in the muscular part of the wing. “Of course I was worried.”

Cas’s head tilts, but not enough that Dean can make out his expression. “Because we’re friends.”

Dean swallows. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “because we’re friends.” He tugs on a few more feathers, and one comes loose. He holds it between his fingers for a beat, rubbing his thumb along the vane. With a sigh, he moves onto Cas’s other flight feathers. He gives them a few long strokes, unable to help his smile as he feels at the power, the potential, all hidden in Cas’s wings. But, eventually, he has to straighten up.

“All done,” he says with forced cheer as Cas turns around to face him.

Cas blinks a few times like he’s coming out of a trance. “Thank you,” he says gruffly.

He spreads his wings.

Dean’s breath catches in his chest, and his awe must show all over face, judging by Cas’s barely-there smirk. But, dammit, Dean’s going to enjoy the sight. Cas never puts himself on display like this, preferring to play the nerdy beekeeper in a trench coat rather than an almighty Angel of the Lord.

Cas turns his head to inspect Dean’s work. He gives an experimental flap, sweeping all the old feathers littering the floor up into the air. “Thank you, Dean,” he says sincerely. He folds his wings back, and Dean’s heart aches for something he never had in the first place.

“Don’t - don’t mention it,” Dean chokes out.

A fluffy piece of down drifts down to settle on Cas’s nose. He goes cross-eyed to keep it in view.

Dean cracks up. Grinning, he reaches up to brush away the offending bit of down.

Cas catches his arm in an iron grip, his own face oddly intense.

“Cas?”

But before Dean can finish his sentence, Cas pulls him closer and seals their mouths together.

Dean lets out a muffled (completely manly) noise of surprise against Cas’s lips before muscle memory takes over. As Dean kisses back, Cas makes a light soothing rumble in the back of his throat, his touch gentle and warm. Dean’s other hand grasps desperately at Cas’s shirt, anchoring him in place. An electric, bubbly feeling is exploding in his chest, a wild kind of joy Dean normally would tamp down, tell himself, watch out for the other shoe to drop.

Other shoes like Cas’s missing memory.

Dean freezes, and it takes him a long moment to realize Cas isn’t moving either. His grip on Dean’s arm has gone slack. Dean opens his eyes to find Cas’s eyes wide open and glowing with an electric blue light.

Fuck.

Dean’s watched his fair share of angel-on-angel porn and more than his fair share of angel-on-human porn, and kissing’s not supposed to do that.

Dean takes a stumbling step back. “Cas?” he tries.

But Cas doesn’t move. He doesn’t give any sign he heard Dean at all.

Dean falls forward, tripping over his feet. He grips Cas, hard, by the shoulders. With his heart in his throat, he gives Cas a small shake. “Cas?” he tries again, and his voice sounds alien to his own ears, loud and breathy with his panic. He shakes him harder. “Cas!”

Several agonizing seconds pass, and the light slowly dims from behind Cas’s eyes, leaving behind his normal blue.

“Dean?”

Dean’s knees nearly give out with relief. “Hey,” he says weakly, “Nice to have you back, buddy.”

Cas blinks a few times. He swallows, a strange expression coming over his face.

“You okay?” Dean demands. “What the fuck was that?”

Cas stares at him. “That was the curse breaking.”

Read Part II here!

#profoundnet #angel castiel #beekeper castiel #farmer dean #fluff #wing grooming #amnesia #mutual pining #friends to lovers #rae writes fic

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innerpostmentality · 5 years ago

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The Return of Mister and Mistress Sinclaire Part 1 - Idyll

A Choices Desire & Decorum based AU fanfic The sequel to The Road to Gretna Green All rights to characters and settings from the Desire & Decorum fiction belong to Pixelberry Studios Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire X Rose Sinclaire (MC) Rating: M – Erotica and mature themes Warning: bondage Word count: A smidge over 2200 This takes place a few days after the Road to Gretna Green series. Tagging: @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @speedyoperarascalparty @hellospunkiebrewster @tornbetween2loves @gardeningourmet @melodyofgraves @thequeenofcronuts @symonde @ritachacha @hellooliviaolivia @paisleylovergirl @kennaxval @regencylady1810 Rose leaned against the doorframe and sipped her tea smiling over the cup at the stretched out form of her sleeping husband. She blushed as she thought of the vigor of their lovemaking the previous night.

It had been four days since they were wed. After their wedding night Ernest had been most solicitous and gentle. He had kissed and cuddled her and brought her to joy with his tender ministrations. He’d allowed her to pleasure him in turn but steadfastly refused to couple with her their second night holding her against him and telling her she must heal first. She woke the third morning to him stroking her hair and feathering kisses on her face. He had made her morning tea and come to wake her. She had pulled him to her moaning her desire for him. Ernest had given in to her ardor and the ease and joy of their second coupling had reassured him. Afterward they had walked into the town proper and done a bit of shopping and had lunch at The Queens Head pub. They had playfully teased and flirted with each other as much as somewhat extended public decorum would permit the newlyweds and by the time they had returned to the privacy of the cottage they were both urgent in their desire. She had pulled him onto the couch as soon as they got inside. Then later as she was peeling potatoes for their supper, he had come up behind her and kissed the nape of her neck where upon she rolled her hips into him. He moaned and hesitated but a moment when she pulled her skirts up to expose her bottom to him. Ernest obliged her coaxing with enough vigor to roll the potatoes onto the floor and move the table across the floor until it butted against the wall with his thrusting. They managed to get through their supper, feeding each other bites of the boiled potatoes and ham, laughing, and stealing kisses. Then Ernest swept her up and carried her to their bedroom declaring she was in need of washing. Not wishing to wait for water to heat he decided he should wash her with his tongue which he undertook with great enthusiasm if not efficiency. The night was a haze of joy and discovery and desire; Rose blushed thinking about how wondrous Ernest’s passion unleashed was to her before she bit her lower lip and frowned. Her courses had arrived this morning; and she knew that Ernest would be certain he had somehow done some grievous harm to her. Most of the women of the ton took to their apartments if not their beds for the duration of their monthlies as though they were gravely ill; but her mother had not raised her so. As a single woman raising a child on a small farm her mother had never had the luxury to lie abed for a week every month. It was a natural thing that all women bore for the sins of Eve her mother said. But like childbirth and life itself it was part of the natural order of being a woman and to be endured with grace. So she was taught you put on your girdle to hold the rag pads and your brown underskirt and you did your chores as usual. The thought of her mother brought a soft smile. She knew she would very much approve and love Ernest Sinclaire. He really was the very best of men. Smelling the porridge she returned to the kitchen of the cottage and stirred and tasted it. She spooned it into two bowls on the tray where she had prepared plates with slices of cured ham and fresh berries. She put a small pot of treacle on the tray with the sugar, cream, and tea then carried it into the bedroom and set it on her trunk before going to sit beside Ernest on the bed. Leaning over she kissed him sweetly on his forehead and watched as he smiled and opened his eyes. He reached for her even as he rolled to his back. “Good Morning, Wife.” He murmured as he pulled her down for a kiss. She returned it happily but pulled away when he started to deepen it giggling. “Ah Love, don’t tempt me. I brought breakfast for us. And…” She dropped her eyes, blushing, still not really comfortable talking with him about such things. She sighed and squared her shoulders. “My monthlies arrived.” Even in the dim light she saw the color drain from his face. “Oh, God, I have hurt you! Oh, Rose I’m so sorry. You should be abed.” He was scrabbling trying to get out of bed and put her in it at the same time. She tried, she really did but him tangled in the bed cloths struggling got the best of her sense of humor and she started giggling even as she tried to fend him off. “Oh Ernest… Stop… Stop. I’m fine.” Finally she managed to still him by kissing him. His arms went around her as he melted into her kiss before taking her face in his hands and breaking the kiss to search her eyes. “Are you certain that you are well?” She nodded and smiled at him. “Quite certain, my Love. Tis the way of healthy women and has been my nature since I was ten and four.” He held her to him and kissed her forehead. She stroked the smooth planes of his back as he held her. “I cannot help but think I was excessive last eve. I should be gentler. I should not tax you so. Should you not be abed? Why are you up? You made breakfast? I am certain you should not be carrying things and bending to tend fires and..” Rose silenced him again with another kiss though she was still giggling at his fretting. “Rose, I’m trying..” She grinned and kissed him again. “You shouldn’t.. “ She was laughing as she sealed her mouth to his again and reached beneath the covers to stroke his soldier standing at full morning attention. Ernest groaned giving in to her questing tongue even as her warm fingers coaxed him to greater passion. She broke the kiss finally smiling softly and blushed as she looked in his beautiful eyes dark with his need. “I, I want to pleasure you Ernest. Please?” He groaned as the soft pad of her finger swiped across his tip and around and nodded lost for words as his breath hitched. She pulled the covers back and his night shirt up then addressed his cock with formality that made him chuckle. “My brave, magnificent Soldier, so smart and broad and tall. You gave me such pleasure last night. Now I must kiss you properly in thanks.” She murmured as she leaned over him caressing him with both hands before tonguing over the exposed ultra-sensitive ridge and slipping her lips over his dripping tip. She heard his soft grunts of pleasure as she started to suckle him gently while she stroked his length with both hands. His fingers tangled in her hair and he couldn’t control his need to thrust into her mouth. “Rose!... “ he cried her name as his back arched with the waves of his climax as he came in her mouth. “Oh my Love. Beauty. Sweet Wife.” He pulled her up and kissed her tasting his seed in her mouth as their tongues tangled. “I love you.” She nuzzled into him. “And I love you my husband.” She grinned as his stomach rumbled its hunger. “I did make breakfast. Though I feel as though I’ve had dessert first.” She kissed him again sweetly then went and got the tray and set it on the bed. “See. I thought we could have a picnic. I wasn’t sure if you like treacle or sugar in your porridge or just a bit of fresh cream.” She smiled and fed him one of the raspberries she’d picked that morning. He kissed her hand and studied her. She constantly amazed him with her self-sufficiency, her bravery and calmness. Her passion and curiosity fascinated and aroused him. He blushed and cleared his throat, “I thought we might go looking in the woods this morning for mushrooms… If a walk wouldn’t over tax you?” She poured a bit of the treacle and cream in her porridge and tasted it before adding a bit more treacle. She nodded, “I should like a walk with you very much. And some nice mushrooms would go very well with the fine fish I’m sure you will catch us for our dinner.” She grinned at him. He lifted a brow at her stirring a lump of sugar into his tea and adding several lumps to his porridge. “Oh, so now you wish me to go fishing?” He teased her even as he tasted a spoonful of the porridge. She smiled taking a bite of the ham she’d sliced. “Um, hmm… I was looking at the lovely books in Mister Wilson’s study this morning. He has a copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. A collection of stories most wondrous and terrible!” She giggled. “I fancied sitting on a blanket ‘neath a tree and reading with you until I got the frights and you had to comfort me. But that sounds much too fanciful for my serious husband so I thought to ask you fishing instead and accidently take the book along.” She batted her eyes at him coquettishly. “You need not dissemble with me Rose.” He chuckled as he ate his porridge. “If we are together I am content to do as you wish. We can read by the river at leisure unless you fancy fish for dinner in which case I’m not opposed to seeing what the stream may provide for us.” “I think some fish would be lovely. Perhaps I’ll find us some watercress to go with it.” She smiled at him a deep contentment suffusing her heart as she shared her breakfast with her husband. A short time later as Ernest was tucking his shirt into his trousers and telling Rose he wanted to see if he might acquire some more suitable clothing for mucking about at leisure they heard a great bonging noise. He frowned and ran out the door and Rose followed. To the east where the village was they could see great black clouds of billowing smoke rising over the thatched roofs. “Oh God.” Ernest stopped and pulled Rose tight to him. “Stay here. I have to go help.” He kissed her holding her tight. “I love you.” Then he took off at a full run toward the village. “I love you too!” she called after him. “God keep him safe.” She murmured. Rose went back in the cottage and started planning. She knew she needed to fill all the containers she could with water. And start a large pot of stew she thought. Ernest would return dirty and hungry and she wanted everything to be in order. She pushed the thought away that he could be injured but checked the rag bin to be certain there were sufficient clean cloths for bandaging should the need arise. She grabbed a couple of empty buckets and headed for the river to get more water. She could hear the constant clanging and saw the smoke continuing to billow from the village. She hurried and was very glad the river wasn’t far and that unlike so many of the streams in England the water of the Sark was clear, cold, and sweet smelling. She set one bucket down and was filling the other when she was grabbed from behind and a sack put over her head. Rose screamed and struggled but arms like iron were wrapped around her. She kicked and clawed but her attacker lifted her off her feet. A gruff deep voice commanded, “Settle. Ain’t gone hurt ye lest ye’s harm yerself.” He shook her like a rag doll till she feared her neck might snap and she went limp. “Let me go. My husband will end you for this.” She felt someone else tying ropes around her even as she tried to struggle. She was lifted and put in another bag she thought then hefted over someone’s shoulder and carried for a bruisingly long hike bouncing on the shoulder in her stomach before she was dumped into something padded but not soft. She thought it likely hay. “Let me go. I can pay you. Please.” She heard two men laugh at that. “We ought ‘ave gagged ‘er.” “Ain’t none gonna mind another woman screamin’ ‘ere. We can gag ‘er when we break ta piss. Feed ‘er some an then gag ‘er.” Rose realized they were covering her with something but it wasn’t heavy. She felt what she was on shift a bit then heard them click at horses and felt the lurch as the conveyance she was on set in motion. ---------- to be continued -------------

#choices fanfiction #desire & decorum #the road to gretna green #the return of mister and mistress sinclaire #ernest sinclaire #ernest sinclaire x mc #desire & decorum au

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gingerthesnap · 6 years ago

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I am on this panel if you want to see??

#rtx #rtx austin #mod post #watercress #watercress studios

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teamwatercress · 1 year ago

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Who are we?

We're an indie visual novel studio that's been crafting emotional character-driven stories since 2014. Inspired by the emotional experience of Kawata Shoujo, we embarked on a journey to create our own visual novels. After nine years, and more than a dozen releases, we've established a reputation for creating complex characters, stories which explore the human experience, and bittersweet endings. Sound intriguing? Our games are available for download on Steam and Itch.io.

With our dedicated team of over 50 creators, we are now developing our flagship project: Avitus. Follow us here on Tumblr or join our Discord server for development updates, and to engage with our team. If you like what we do, consider supporting us on Patreon for special behind-the-scenes content and to be a part of our journey.

#lgbtq community #lgbtqia #visual novel #vndev #watercress studios #avitus

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farvn · 6 years ago

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Interview with novajam of Studio NoGood

With the upcoming Visual Novel “Nekodeito” which is about a catgirl living with you, I am glad that novajam of NoGood has taken the time to answer some questions for both NoGood and Nekodeito!

1. When did you start Studio NoGood and what was your motivation to do so? “ It was late 2018 when I started fronting publicly as NoGooD. I'd been writing scripts for VNs as early as September that year, a lot of which got trashed or shelved but it was December before I registered a domain or anything like that. The motivation was to keep my VN game development activity under a separate banner from my online handle, but I integrated my handle into the company name so I don't know how well that worked. Ahaha”

2. As an indie studio, what are your top priorities for both your games and your fans? “ I think quality is the first priority for both. Fans want good games and good stories so straight away it's in my interest to set the bar high. The very close second is communication though. Independent projects will live or die by the goodwill they can cultivate with an audience and I feel I've been very blessed to have such good reception already. It's a sort of symbiotic relationship. Provide what the fans want, what they're looking for, and they'll support you in return.”

3. Is Nekodeito your first game? “Yes. No!! Oh god haha no actually! I made a very budget looking version of Geometry Wars in University with Gamemaker ahaha. That's probably everyone's first game project, some kind of twin stick shooter or platformer. Before that I'd played with mod tools for other games, The Elder Scrolls Construction Set and such if you'd count that.” Sure, that does help in devwork so why not. Any other games I should know about? “I just remembered making this platforming engine in Gamemaker Studio 2. It might look okay here but it was very buggy and the project it was intended for quickly became overwhelming so that's abandoned now.”

4. Who came up with the look/ personality of Nekodeito's Machiko? “ I came up with the look, and most of the personality but other experts in the field of catgirl engineering were consulted though, mainly my friend TMMTO. Parts of the personality changed over time and little traits here and there have been crowdsourced here and there from fans. I made this collage and sent it to my character artist, critterpunk, as a reference when she was doing character and outfit designs for me.

It think it stayed mostly intact. The sizes are off and I think I made her a more responsible big sister type character than a lazy one in the end.” I can see her big melons stayed intact! “Big tunas” Speaking of big tunas! For Nekodeito, would there be any features like headpats, tail fluffing, tickling, etc? “Of course of course! Nekodeito has a sort of dating sim style system where you pick what order to progress through story segments, and in between segments her sprite is interactive. I hope people will enjoy booping her on the nose.”

6. As Nekodeito is developing over time, what is the hardest obstacle you have encountered? “Distraction. It's very easy to get sidetracked on Youtube or Twitter which is very annoying, but games too have been a problem. My productivity improved a lot once I slowed playing mobile games so much.”

7. Did you have any inspirations that helped you make Nekodeito? “Ha, dumbly enough, mobile games. Well you know about this, but for people who don't really play them, when you log in to Girls Frontline or Azur Lane or something you have a secretary character that greets you. I set mine in Girls Frontline to Mk23 and the greeting pulled my heartstrings a little. I really like the idea of being able to come home to someone who's happy to see you no matter what, so that's what the game is about. That kind of romance is what I want for the game, one that's very cozy.”

8. When did your love of catgirls start? “Oh jeez. I don't think I have an exact date. But who really is incapable of loving catgirls? Spice and Wolf probably played a formative role, even though that's not about a catgirl.” I don’t blame you, floofy girls all the way!

9. As a developer what goes through your mind for when you release it? Do you have any concerns? “Will people like the game? Will people even find it and engage with it? Will it be able to recoup it's costs? Will I even be able to make another after this Will there be some kind of problem with the software I'm incapable of fixing? Will I be able to deliver all I've promised in the first place? There are many worries. On the other side of that there's a good fanbase already and a fair amount of risk is already mitigated but the worries are always there nonetheless.”

10. Which types of Nekodeito merch are planned? “Hell yeah! Alright so, we have a voice actress for Machiko, and we're going to go to crowdfunding to try and get the game fully voice acted by them. Merch rewards will be sticker packs and keychains, we're trying to get some of those "ergonomic" mousepads made too. We're seeing if you can get your own TUNA shirt too, just like Machi wears in game. Digitally, you'll be able to get an art and commentary book and the original soundtrack for the game.”

All them goodies! Let’s say the crowdfund went too well, like ultra succeeded, would you consider a limited edition figure of Machiko? “If I did that I think it would probably be an extremely limited run, and probably like a trading figure or nendo sized thing rather than a 1/7 scale, but hell yeah I'd love a little Machi fig on my desk! More realistically if crowdfunding exceeded expectations then we just expand the game, offer a free DLC down the line of an after-story or add extra CGs and scenes to the base game.” DA CATGIRL FAMILY! “Oh god I gave Machiko ten sisters. That's so many sprites to get done...”

11. To your current fans and future ones, what would you like to say to them in prep for Nekodeito? “Thank you all for your support, for telling all your own friends and groups about it and spreading the word. Thank you for all the fan art and nice messages, and most of all thank you for your patience and thank you for appreciating cute Machiko! I hope to have a demo ready in June for the public to try, so please hold on a bit more.”

Would you like to add anything else? “Additional thanks to everyone who's worked with me to create Nekodeito, all the artists (chlorophill, Rialyn KV, critterpunk, ds sans, Cheschorv) my editor (Cipher), my composer (Igneus) voice director (Sandra MJ) and soon to be debuting voice actress, Wolf and Alch at Team Watercress for lots of help starting out, reps from Degica for assistance with the engine (andre and Archeia). So many people! NoGooD is officially just a one-man show, but without all these people I'd have nothing to put my game together with. This is turning into the credits section!”

A big thank you to novajam for taking the time to answer my questions! I really appreciate the game’s progress and I hope to see more!

NoGood Twitter: https://twitter.com/StudioNoGooD NoGood site: https://www.nogood.games/games.html Nekodeito itch.io: https://studionogood.itch.io/nekodeito Nekodeito Steam Page: https://store.steampowered.com/app/1072790/Nekodeito/

Novajam [NoGood, Nekodeito] Interview May 29, 2019 Far2close - Visual Novel Playthroughs https://www.youtube.com/c/Far2close https://twitter.com/xFar2closex https://www.facebook.com/Far2close/

#nekodeito #visual novel #anime catgirl #dating sim #NoGood #Far2close Interviews

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365day2021 · 3 years ago

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Day 181

Woke up at 855 and got to work at 950. Started the day on point match up and it was SUPER easy. Like the bar was consistently starting appts so I barely had to do any. Just really had conversations with random people and maybe matched like 5 people up in the 2 and a half hours. After my 15 (spent chillin’ outside) I went to repair and that was until 3. Pretty chill as well, I don’t even remember how many phones I fixed most likely less than 5. At around 2 there was a 15 min download which was actually only 10 cause there really wasn’t much new to talk about and then the last 10 mins of the shift I helped take out some trash with Zaque. Right after I clocked out and Madison was still chillin’ even tho she got off at 230 so I chilled with her on the bench for a bit and then we walked to our cars. I went home and ate the leftover pork chop, rice and watercress soup from Monday and then went back. Was back on repair for an hour and 15 and this time it was pretty busy, constant moving the whole time and had to swap a phone cause it failed calibration on 2 different displays and a restore. But yeah I spent my last 15 outside as well and ended off on queue. Maybe took like 3 to end the night so it was a really chill day overall. I also bought beats studio buds so that was cool too they’re pretty good. got off at 7 and walked out with Ashlie and Megan T and then went home. I was on the couch watching a vid or 2 and then took an hour nap. Went to watching mang0 and played a bit of OSRS and ate like 4 nuggs and some oreos. It’s 1104 now so p early, gonna be awake for a bit but hopefully not too long since I took a nap

#June 30

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yourgamecheats · 5 years ago

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Arcadia Review

Combining the unlikely worlds of tech and jazz, Watercress and Somnova Studios’ new visual novel Arcadia has players overcoming the challenges of life in a throwback jazz club. The setting and music certainly tread new ground for the genre – can the story keep up? Arcadia Review

In a world where the cars and even the trash bins use AR technology, the protagonist Roman looks to get away from it…

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#Gamers Heroes

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archived-watercress-blog · 6 years ago

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Did you miss the panel or the stream? Watch it here! <3

#rtx #rtx austin #rtx austin 2018 #watercress studios #watercress

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flynncenter · 7 years ago

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Technique: An Appreciation

By Fred Balzac

Whether you’re observing a world-renowned comic force such as John Cleese, who will be appearing live at Burlington’s Flynn Center on September 21 as part of his national tour screening Monty Python and the Holy Grail, or a locally based theater troupe such as Adirondack Shakespeare Company—known for its “raw” approach to the work of the Bard — it’s the thing that sets master performers apart from the rest of the pack.

If I could say just one thing to John Cleese, it would be “Thank you”—for making the world a little bit safer for nerds.

There’s no getting around it: when I was in high school, I was a nerd. An A-student-except-for-gym-and-shop-class/sousaphone-player-in-the-band/student-council-representative/non-jock-non-greaser/no-girlfriend-never-even-been-on-date-type-of nerd.

So when in eleventh grade I discovered—or rather, the twelfth-grade band and student council nerds introduced me to—episodes of the delightfully silly and often stupefyingly parochial British TV series Monty Python’s Flying Circus, which surfaced in the United States on public television around 1974-75, my heretofore sheltered, suburban New Jersey world opened up: for the first time in my life, it was cool to be brainy and socially awkward.

Here was a show that celebrated both intellectualism and low-brow, Gargantua and Pantagruel-like (how’s that for an intellectual comedy reference?) physical humor; with a weekly half-hour run of stream-of-consciousness sketches that had no ending and therefore no punchline, animated bits where heads got blown off and constant references to English people, place names and historical events we American teens had never heard of but still found funny. Furthermore, it was on PBS, which previously had been reserved for the likes of Sesame Street, nature documentaries and William F. Buckley’s high-brow political talk show, Firing Line—and the show aired on Saturday night, when presumably all the really cool kids were out partying together.

But come Monday morning in homeroom and the hallways and, by midday, in the cafeteria, we nerds had something to talk about and mimic and plan to adapt for the annual student-council-sponsored talent show. And if the jocks, cheerleaders, greasers, druggies and attractively apathetic had no idea what we were referring to…well, wasn’t that a delicious role reversal? And now for something completely different, indeed!

Mr. Cleese was, of course, one of five regular performers on the show who were, at first, unknown to us—their adoring, acne-faced, recently (and, much to our embarrassment, sometimes conspicuously) puberty-achieving fans. But it didn’t take us long to learn their names: Graham Chapman, Eric Idle, Terry Jones and Michael Palin were the others, plus Terry Gilliam, who was the animator and the only American among the bunch. To my mind, however, it was John Cleese who emerged, fairly early on in the viewing by me and my peers, as the show’s standout performer.

The other Pythons are all highly skilled sketch comedians, mind you; and, in fact, as I recall, at the time, my personal favorite Python was Michael Palin, who had a sweetness to his persona even when he was at his most devilish. (Besides, just as the Beatles had fans who worshipped George and Ringo when clearly John and Paul were the leaders and the creative driving force of the band, each Python distinguished himself so sharply over the course of the show’s three-year run that were ample reasons for fans to favor any one of them.) But when I consider Monty Python’s Flying Circus today, it is Cleese’s work that comes to mind first—whether the utter vacuity of his village idiot, the slow boil of his various waiters and “dead parrot”/cheese shop customers or the sleek lack of self-consciousness of his Minister of Silly Walks.

The original inspiration for this “thought-piece” was the occasion of what, to my knowledge, is Mr. Cleese’s first visit to the Greater North Country—a live appearance at the Flynn Center for the Performing Arts in Burlington, Vermont on Thursday, September 21, as part of his national tour with screenings of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Now, by the time you read this, Cleese’s appearance at the Flynn will likely have been long sold-out. Since I didn’t expect to be one of the lucky few to sit in the audience that evening, in considering what sets John Cleese apart from not only his Python compadres but also other comic performers I took a fresh look at Holy Grail and also picked up a copy of Cleese’s recent memoir, So, Anyway....

Herewith are few general observations, premeditated in their utter randomness; consciously subjective, but unconsciously presented in the most objective way possible; and wholly unsupported by the facts or an evidence-based—yay, even reality-based—worldview…but isn’t that the Python way?

The reference above to the Beatles was no accident: to my mind, the Python troupe was as big as the Beatles…. Well, maybe not quite as big, but very similar in their effect on the larger culture. Both groups were comprised of all guys, and they were both very funny. Granted, there were six Pythons versus only four Beatles, and whereas humor for the Beatles was a byproduct of their main focus as musicians, humor was the main focus for the Pythons, being they were comedians and they weren’t much at all as musicians. Still, the similarity is there. The Pythons, you could say, were to the 1970s as the Beatles were to the 60s — if not globally, then certainly in Great Britain. For just as the emergence of the Beatles as the vanguard of the British Invasion of America, beginning in 1964, took the whole world’s collective mind off of the Kennedy assassination, surely the emergence of Monty Python’s Flying Circus in the early 70s took Britons’ minds off of their country’s pathetic economy and woeful position in the world as an ex-imperial power. Or, if not that, the Pythons possibly took their countrymen’s minds off—at the very least—of the break-up of the Beatles. Besides, ever notice how Pythonesque the Beatles first film, A Hard Day’s Night, seemed? And it was made and released several years before anyone ever heard of Flying Circus.

(Clearly, the resemblance was not lost on Python Eric Idle, who co-founded the relatively short-lived Beatles parody band, the Ruttles, which generated some popular interest after being aired on shows such as Saturday Night Live and which has to be considered a “solo” project for Idle in some same sense as the famous anti-Vietnam bed protest was a “solo” project for Beatle John—conducted, of course, with wife Yoko Ono—the late, lamented Ruttles live on in association with Monty Python.)

In terms of the larger culture, however, it’s clear that England has contributed three major individuals or acts: William Shakespeare, the Beatles and, of course, Monty Python. Not that there weren’t other important contributions made along the way: Dickens, Jane Austen, the Magna Carta, the watercress sandwich…. But those first three mentioned are clearly the Big Three. And so, to keep the analogies hurtling, if Flying Circus the TV show is akin to Shakespeare’s early comedies, most of the histories, and the tragedies up to Romeo and Juliet and perhaps Julius Caesar—as well as to the albums the Beatles made before they went to India—then Holy Grail is the Pythons’ Hamlet and Macbeth— and Sgt. Pepper and Abbey Road—and Life of Brian their King Lear—and White Album (correspondences that would also relegate the God-awful Monty Python and the Meaning of Life to the cultural equivalent of The Merry Wives of Windsor and essentially all of Ringo’s post-Beatles work).

In some ways and like many artists before and since, the Pythons did their best work early on, in Flying Circus. The show, with its unruly witches’ brew of sketches performed live and recorded in front of a studio audience, bits that for logistical reasons had to be filmed, and Terry Gilliam’s largely Gothic-laden animation, burst through the small black-and-white TV set I watched it on in my bedroom with originality. Certainly, my fellow 70s’ nerds and I had seen nothing like it. And deciding to run one sketch or bit into another without ending them was simply brilliant. Think of how many bad sketches you’ve suffered through on Saturday Night Live or other shows that could’ve been improved—or at least shortened—had their creators adopted the same approach.

Interestingly, when Mr. Cleese and his five confreres first started working on Flying Circus they apparently had little idea whether anyone else would find the material they created for the show funny. As the memoirist details in the final chapter of So, Anyway…, the five British Pythons were primarily writers, not performers, and it was with the writing of material into which they poured most of their artistic “passion” (a word the author admits his publisher insisted he use more than once) during the making of the show. When they had creative differences, they almost always happened at the writing stage; when it came to who was going to be in which sketch, it wasn’t a big deal. And when the Pythons had disagreements over material, the battle lines typically were drawn by university affiliation—Cambridge vs. Oxford—with Cleese, representing the former, and Terry Jones, the latter, the two most likely to butt heads.

Furthermore, the spontaneous, even improvisatory quality of the show was illusory: Flying Circus was a tightly scripted affair—the product of five elite-university scribes, plus one high-brow animator (not sure where he went to school), all with an unrelenting fealty to the Word. To the casual viewer, Flying Circus may have appeared to be the opposite of Cleese’s other great contribution to TV programming, Fawlty Towers. With its gnarled, overlapping plot and subplot(s) situationally and its obvious nod to the stage farces of Georges Feydeau stylistically, Towers leaves no doubt that each of its 20-plus-minute episodes—which, unlike the Circus sketches, ALWAYS built furiously to a climactic ending—was tightly constructed. Regardless, the stamp of John Cleese as a creative tsunami is as evident in the material he contributed and/or performed with Monty Python as it is in a non-Python “solo” project such as Fawlty Towers or, for that matter, the much beloved film, A Fish Called Wanda.

Which brings me back to what was supposed to be the main focus of this article: technique. It’s the thing that comes to mind (mine, anyway) when watching Cleese in performance—whether he’s doing his elongated jaunt in the “Ministry of Silly Walks” sketch or pratfalls as the world’s most infuriating innkeeper, Basil Fawlty. Take Monty Python and the Holy Grail, for example: the film is very much an ensemble project; and yet, there’s John Cleese again, standing just a bit head-and-shoulders-above his colleagues, all but stealing the movie in such roles as the surly French guard who taunts King Arthur with epithets right before the King and his men have cows and other livestock catapulted at them; the menacing, Darth-Vader-like Black Knight, who never says die—even when he is apparently doing so; or wily Tim the Enchanter, who lowballs the prowess of the “killer” rabbit that guards a cave he leads the unassuming Knights to.

Technique is what you’re seeing when you watch Cleese perform; but then it suddenly dawns on me: on what basis am I—whom has done no such training beyond a few rudimentary high school and college acting classes—qualified to discuss techniques of film, TV and stage acting/performance? The answer comes back as the question arose: None whatsoever. So I did what any writer—or, for that matter, game show contestant—would do when he or she found him or herself in the same predicament: call people who actually knows what they’re talking about and ask them to throw you a lifeline.

This article originally appeared in the August issue of Northern Home, Garden & Leisure.

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