#when pool players are down and out they sometimes can engage in whats known to other pool pros as a

[psilocybinaut]

Feeling a lot of fomo rn

I guess just feeling a lot

[struggling-with-time]

Spilled tea [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x female!reader

Summary: “Corpse husband x fem reader where the reader is Felix sister who been secretly dating corpse because brother is very protective. And while streaming playing among us mark let it be known . And Felix get mad so corpse talks to him and Felix see how much he really loves so he finally approves of you guys dating” requested by anon

Warnings: fluff I think, maybe angst, you tell me, no seriously I need help labeling.

Words: 1k

A/N:  So… I changed it around, and couldn’t quite fit Mark in there… Quick question, how clear is it that I’m flailing around on my own now?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Corpse has been streaming for just under an hour, he can’t hear you, when you dumb through the door. He has forgotten, he said you could come over after your classes at the local University. The two of you had met through your brother Felix, or as most of the world knows him Pewdiepie.

You are currently in enrolled in a college nearby where Corpse lives, and well you hit it off online, and before you knew it, you were hanging out together, and it slowly started to develop to feelings. Which lead to the two of you dating, and here you are now. Spending more time at his apartment, than your shared flat with a roommate.

You are already setting up your book on the kitchen table, engaged in the newest text for your next history class. You take the book with you as you walk to his studio, he had texted earlier in the day that he would just be editing when you came around. You quickly make two cups of tea, taking one in one hand, and a book in another. As you barge into his studio, your nose in book. “Hey Baby, do you want tea?” You loudly ask, used to him wearing headphones, meaning sometimes you must shout to gain his attention. “Baby?”

You look up from your book, when you don’t get an answer and is met by the sight of him with his head in his hands. As you notice the stream running on his screen. “Oh shit.” You mutter. You drop the tea in surprise, yelping a bit. When the tea hits you. You quickly steps out of the pool of hot water as you approach him only to hear a ton of voices in his headset, asking who just called him baby.

Corpse lifts his head and reaches out for you, and you let him pull you down on his lap. He hugs you as he starts answering the questions coming for him. You can only hear one side of the conversation but is following along in chat to see how they’re reacting.

“Yes, that um��� That was my girlfriend.”

You sneak a kiss on his hand, you like hearing him calling you his girlfriend.

“No, I don’t think she would want to say hi to you guys.” Corpse’s voice is calm, but you can feel him getting nervous. Neither of you had told your brother yet, and neither of you wanted now to be the time to go official.

Corpse lets out a sigh, before asking you. “Do you want to say hi?” You shake your head in response.

“I asked, and she said no.” Corpse is trying his best to avoid it. You can see it’s starting to get to him that they keep pushing it. His hands are slowly starting to shake, and his arm around you tighten a bit.

“She said no.” Corpse states again. You motion for him to mute, and he does.

“It’s okay, I can do it. If you’re okay with it.” You tell him.

“Baby you don’t have to.”

“It’s okay, we can get through this, worst is someone recognizes my voice. It’s not like Felix is in the call.”

Corpse kisses the top of your head, and hums in response. However, as the two of you talked, none of you saw, that Felix had in fact joined the call as the 10th player.

Corpse unmutes and announces that you’ll say hi, if they will stop bothering him. So that’s what you do, you get the headphones on to listen to the chaos unraveling, you lean in to the mic. “Hey guys, thank you for being such great friends to Corp-“

“Y/N?” Felix’s voice cuts through the others. “When did you join? I didn’t see you come in here…” He trails off.

You quickly mute the microphone. And pushes the headset off.

“Felix.” Is all you say to Corpse.

“Fuck, when did he join?” The panic rising in his voice. You look over at chat, knowing everyone has pierced it together. You can hear Felix yell in the headset, about what’s going on and why you’re at Corpse’s place, and why he presented you as his girlfriend.

The two of you are fearfully looking at the microphone and headset, neither wanting to be the one having to explain.

Corpse is the one to break the silent argument you’re having by picking the headset up, and unmuting the mic.  

“We um… fuck.”

“You fuck?” Felix is quick to but in in anger

“No! Not like that, I just… We started talking, and then we started to hang out, and she’s pretty cool, and she thought that she wanted me around in her life. So we became friends… Well…” Corpse trails off.

“Do you love her?” Felix hits him with the big question. Neither of you have come around to dropping the big l word. It wasn’t that you didn’t both of you had just felt it was still too new. But Corpse didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Yes. I do, a lot actually. She lights up the worst days and is always there when I need her.” Corpse confesses for everyone on stream and their mother to hear. “I hate when she goes home, because I want her near me for all times.” Corpse continues.

“Then that’s good enough for me. She’s an adult, and I can only do so much about who she’s dating.” Felix admits.

Corpse physically relaxes, and you’re quick to wrap your arms around him to hug him. Both contempt with your brother approving.

“Thank you, Felix.”

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis is pining for Harry. We hope you’ll enjoy this list. We also have a mutual pining rec list here and we will have a pining Harry rec list eventually. Happy reading!

1) Down On Your Knees, You Don’t Look So Tall | Explicit | 3445 words

Louis and Harry are friends, and best ones at that. Louis loves Harry more fiercely more than he's ever loved anyone, so he doesn't really have a problem with it when they start doing this thing. this wonderful, wonderful thing.

2) You Had Me At Hello | Explicit | 4529 words

Louis works in the shop next to Harry's cupcake shop.   Louis pines after Harry until he goes into a heat and Harry finally catches up.

3) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis’ bed when he’s cold. Louis pines.

4) Something To Live For | Mature | 5535 words

After over a century of waiting for Harry to realize they're mates,  Louis gets his heart broken when his friend announces he's found his 'one' in a human girl named Teresa. Wanting only happiness for Harry, Louis accepts that it just wasn't meant to be and decides it's time to let go of the immortal life.

5) Five Times Harry Styles Was Jealous | Mature | 6184 words

Harry's jealous all the time but there were five times that definitely stand out. Five times that changed Louis and Harry's relationship.

6) On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine | Explicit | 9261 words

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.  

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

7) Let The Beating Waves Come Drag Me Down | Explicit | 9447 words

“Just try it, the worst thing that could ever happen it’s that you won’t like it” Niall had told him. And there he was, on the way to one of these pubs created for perverts, willing to break up the routine to try something new, something that terrified as much as excited him.

One night to get swept up in passion, one night to let the devil get in.

"Tonight, I’m going to make you scream of ecstasy Louis,” he said with a raspy voice full of control, making him tremble with anticipation.

8) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699

There are a lot of people Harry might expect to find on his doorstep at three o’clock in the afternoon these days.

It could be the delivery man, come to drop off the pair of boots Harry impulsively ordered online last week. It could be one of his neighbors, dropping by to complain about how a party he’d thrown weeks ago had clogged up the street. It could also be any number of his friends in L.A., who stop by unannounced most days to mooch off Harry’s food or whisk him away to try some new yogurt shop.

As a rule, it definitely cannot be Louis Tomlinson, although Harry’s blinked at least three times now, and it’s still Louis standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a duffel bag at his feet.

9) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10232 words

Nice guys always finish last.

10) Call If You Need Me | Explicit | 10770 words

If anyone asks later on, Louis plans to tell them that it’s all Niall’s fault.

11) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13150 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

12) Just Let Me | Mature | 14714 words

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

13) We’re the New Romantics | Explicit | 16054 words

Alternatively, a high school au where Louis pines and Harry is not who he seems to be. Featuring peanut butter banana milkshakes, motorcycles, and first times.

14) Wait For Me (To Come Home) | Explicit | 16066 words

A future fic of time stamps where Louis finally comes to grips with a love he'd denied for too long.

15) Deflower Me | Explicit | 20154 words

Louis is a proud virgin, and no matter how much society tries to make him feel like a freak for not acting on his natural urges, he doesn't suffer from his lack of experience. He has never felt drawn to someone in a way that made him want to get involved sexually with them, and he isn't planning on rushing himself so he can get some because people think it's what he should do.

In walks Fratboy, the Serial Haunter of His (wet) Dreams, who thankfully has a little business going on that might be just what Louis needs.

16) I Wanna Be More Than Friends | Not Rated | 20721 words

The one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

17) The Way The Storm Blows | Explicit | 21649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

18) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30830 words

Jane Austen's Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis' family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.

19) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

20) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words

The accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

21) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

"He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that."

22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39831 words

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

23) Eyes Off You I Explicit | 39396 words

A Charlie’s Angels inspired fic where Louis is the brains, Harry is the charm, Liam is the muscle, and Niall drives the getaway car - and Zayn is there, too. sometimes.

24) Kiss Me On The Mouth And Set Me Free (Nut Please Don't Bite) | Mature | 42074 words

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

"...Louis wanted him so badly. Wanted Harry to pick him up, bite him, and break him. Make Louis his, make Louis cry, make Louis a beautiful, plump, pregnant omega..."

25) Let Me Touch You Where Your Heart Aches | Explicit | 46625 words

A Friends with Benefits AU, in which Louis falls in love and Harry is jealous. There is some Karaoke singing somewhere in there, because how do you write a romantic comedy without a Karaoke scene?

26) Underneath The Moon | Mature | 46927 words

In five years’ time, Louis would be the one saying to his students about how he knew the great Harry Styles, in a time before he had ever put out an album or performed on a real stage. Harry fucking Styles had been his best friend and he still loved him, he always would. But they couldn’t stay that way.

27) The Sidelines | Explicit | 47078 words

Note: There are mentions of Top Louis.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can’t stand one another, since they can’t keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other.

28) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

29) Pinkies Never Lie | Explicit | 83615 words | Sequel

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

30) Inevitable | Explicit | 185917 words

AU where Louis and Harry used to be more than friends, but everything had to change the day Harry introduces Louis to his new girlfriend.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[rpgsandbox]

                    Mock up of the book. Cover design not finalized.

Coyote and Crow is a tabletop role playing game set in an alternate future of the Americas where colonization never occurred. Instead, advanced civilizations arose over hundreds of years after a massive climate disaster changed the history of the planet. You'll play as adventurers starting out in the city of Cahokia, a bustling, diverse metropolis along the Mississippi River. It's a world of science and spirituality where the future of technology and legends of the past will collide.

The game is created and led by a team of Native Americans representing more than a dozen tribes and we've built a game that both Natives and non-Natives will thrill to explore and build upon.

More than 700 years ago, a bright purple streak shot across the night sky. Over the coming weeks, the Earth fell into a deep winter, the seas raged and ash rained from the sky. The event became known as the Awis. As resources dwindled, winter became longer and summer shorter, people struggled to survive. Wars erupted, people starved, some fleeing their ancestral homes before creeping ice sheets.

But people survived. Tribes adapted. And in the wake, people began to notice a strange purple mark appearing on people, plants and animals alike. It became known as the Adahnehdi, the Gift, and many took it as a sign that the Great Spirit had not given up on them.

Eventually, the weather began to ease, the Earth began to heal, and new nations arose. New sciences and technologies, born out of necessity, led to a discovery about the Adahnehdi. It wasn't just a mark, it was a path to abilities and powers, beyond normal human limits.

                       The long walk home. Art by Jennifer Lange

Now, 700 years after the world was brought to the brink, a new chapter has begun. Your characters enter a world that is healing but is no less dangerous. The ice sheets are retreating and the seas are calming, but what lay out beyond your borders? The treaties and alliances that made so much sense during the long winters are now eroding and old grudges between nations are not so easily forgotten. New technologies arise almost every day and the rate of change is frightening for some. And then there are the stories. Talk of spirits, monsters, beings of legend. For so many they were just tales to be told around the fire. But now there is talk that these legends may be far more literal than you may have previously believed. Has something awakened them?

                                the northern continent of Makasing.

Coyote and Crow is an original role playing system built around the exclusive use of D12 dice. Outside of the core rule book, all you'll need to play the game is some pencil and paper and some twelve-sided dice. While there is some complexity to the game, we are striving to present a system that will allow players to refer to the rule book during play as little as possible, keeping most or all of the critical information on your character sheet.

           Mock up of the front of a character sheet. Design not finalized.

The basic rule system is centered around collecting a Dice Pool, usually around 5-7 D12s and rolling them to determine either Success or Failure and degree of effect. For example "8" might be the number your Character needs to attempt to do something and every 8 or higher they rolled would be a Success. The more 8's, the more successful they are.

While combat is a part of Coyote and Crow, the game is actually built around the idea of fighting being only one road to story resolution. The game encourages dialogue, building bridges and finding unique solutions to problems that are not always clearly defined by good and evil.

Your Characters have Stats like Strength and Spirit and Skills like Investigation and Charm that are modified by their Stats. In addition, when you create your Character, you choose a Path. That Path determines both certain Stat bonuses you receive as well as which Abilities you have access to. Abilities are powers beyond normal human capability, but not at a level where characters would be comparable to superheroes. There are 15 Paths in the core rule book available. In addition, you'll choose an Archetype (Whisperer, Healer, Scout, among others) that will give you Stat and Skill bonuses and a general idea of your character's profession, but will not force your Character too deeply down a specific progression.

Then you'll choose Gifts and Burdens. These allow you to give your Characters specific bonuses or drawbacks and will help you flesh them out in a way that is flavorful and realistic. It's important to note that the rulebook does not dictate whether something is a burden or a gift for a Player. For example, a Player might choose to give their Character a sister. That might be a Burden or a Gift (or both!) depending on how the Player wants their Character to see that relationship.

Sample pages from the equipment chapter. Layouts and content not finalized.

There are no experience points in Coyote and Crow. Instead, it is built on the Legends system. Your Character will have Short Term Goals, which will increase various numbers on your Character sheets or give them new Skills. But you and your group will also have Long Term Goals. When those are completed your legend will grow. You'll write a short story about your adventures, the kind that can be told around the fire for generations to come. These can change your Gifts and Burdens, give you access to new Abilities and more. As you complete more Long Term Goals, your Character's legend will precede them and your stories will spread.

ARCHETYPES

There are six Archetypes in the game, each acting as a starting point for Character development but not constricting their possibilities. Each Archetype has its own symbol. Here are a few of them.

            The icons for the Tinkerer, Warrior and Whisperer Archetypes

PATHS

In addition to Archetypes, Players choose Paths for their Characters, which are permanent associations they make with an animal and help define what extra human Abilities they'll be able to choose from, among other effects. There are fifteen basic Paths in the core rulebook.

                       The Path of the Badger, the Stag and the Spider

While this game was created by a Native-led team, this game is for everyone. We've taken great care to craft a game that Natives and non-Natives alike will be able to engage in and find themselves immersed in.

For Natives, we've crafted both story and game mechanics that will allow you to integrate your own tribal customs into your play. For those who aren't Native, you'll have a wealth of options to choose from as well as clear guidelines for understanding the differences between this world and our real one.

The game is designed to be your first role playing game or your latest. The core rule book will walk players through every step of how to play Coyote and Crow, but also how to play role playing games in general, including advice on safety and inclusion as well as suggestions on where to find tools outside of the rule book to make your game both easier and more enjoyable.

Everyone involved in Coyote and Crow is deeply passionate about our game and we felt that it was time for Indigenous folks to have a game that didn't see them as secondary, as adversaries, or intertwined with colonialism.

Coyote and Crow is not set in a dystopia. The world went through a dark chapter, but the people of these nations rose to the challenge. There's good food and water, education and meaningful work for almost everyone in Makasing.

But this world isn't a utopia either. It's place that's growing, where old alliances are strained and past slights are not always forgotten. New technology is putting pressure on old traditions. And with the climate becoming milder, there is a whole world of unknowns out there. On top of all of that, there are rumors that some of the old stories about monsters and spirits might just be a little more real than some originally believed. This is a game where science and the unexplained live side by side and sometimes clash.

                              The Wanderer. Art by Kyle Charles.

THE CORE RULE BOOK

We are producing a beautiful 300+ page hardbound book, loaded with illustrations and containing all of the rules you'll need to play Coyote and Crow. Included in the book (and PDF) will be:

Detailed history of this alternate world

Descriptions of daily life and culture in Cahokia, the capital of the Free Lands

Rules for creating and advancing your characters, including 6 Archetypes, 15 Paths and 27 Abilities for a massive variety of options

Descriptions and stats for mythical creatures, infamous spirits, shadowy organizations and dangerous cults that can challenge players endlessly

A group of pre-generated characters if you want to jump right into playing the game

A starter adventure, Encounter at Station 54, that can act as a stand alone adventure or as the start of a larger campaign

So much more!

                              It still hungers. Art by Jeffrey Veregge

We have a diverse team of folks working on this game, most of whom are Native. Additionally, we are striving to bring in other marginalized voices whenever possible. Our team features people from across the LGBTQIA spectrum, including two spirit folks. It's not even a question that this game is political. If you have a problem with a game where there are no people of European descent represented, than this game is probably not for you. That said, we've truly built this game to be played by everyone. It might seem like a big leap, but don't worry, we're going to hold your hand the whole way through and you'll be so happy you stepped off the edge into this vibrant fresh world.

===============================================

Kickstarter campaign ends: Fri, April 2 2021 3:00 AM BST

Website: [Coyote and Crow] [instagram]

[valeriannnn]

if youve ever wanted to think about what almost every major RWBY character would main in professional overwatch, then today is your lucky day! brought to you by hiatus, return of owl, and 3am delirium

RUBY - Star DPS.  Extremely flashy, always on the highlight reel.  Will play whatever is needed to pound the enemies into dirt, but also the type to say "fuck it ok guys trust me im gonna pop off" and swap to her signature widow/tracer to Pop Off.  Works unfailingly.  Team captain and emotional core.  Prefers mobile heroes and an unpredictable playstyle.

WhiteSnow - Flex Support/Flex DPS.  Put her on any sniper (including and especially Ana) and watch all hell rain down.  Methodical playstyle, favors high-utility heroes.  Aside from snipers, can often be found on Baptiste/Mei/Symmetra.  Enables teammates to make big plays, but often sacrifices her own presence in the killfeed for the benefit of the team as a whole.  Loves to maker opponents' lives a living hell with CC.  Line em up, knock em down.

Belladonna - Offtank.  Extremely attentive to her backline, constantly running interference and peeling for allies.  Impossible to catch off-guard.  Delights in thwarting the enemy team's plans and preventing them from making the plays they want to.  Excellent map awareness and always the one to touch point to preserve overtime.  Shotcaller.  Struggled with committing to risky/aggressive plays, but being on a reliable team has made her more comfortable performing her role and trusting her teammates to have her back.  Prefers mobile heroes but will adapt to any situation to work in perfect tandem with...

YangXiaoLong - Main Tank.  Could have been a DPS main but early on committed to tank role to enable her duo parter (and little sister) to pop off (and have shorter queue times).  Developed a real knack for controlling space and being a brick goddamn wall between her squishies and the enemy team.  Extremely aggressive playstyle, but has cooled down in recent years to be more of a team player.  Still loves to thrash about when given the opportunity.  Known for bold plays and phatty shatties.

Arc - Main Support.  Tried for years to be a DPS hotshot but was determinedly mediocre and got hard stuck in plat.  Persuaded by Pyrrha to pocket her for a few games, and discovered the depth and fulfillment of playing support to a well-coordinated team.  Nurtured his aptitude for assisting from the backline and quickly rose through the ranks.  Will play whatever is meta but will always be a Mercy main at heart.  Played Brig during GOATS.  Shotcaller.

Valkyrie - Doomfist.

Nikos - Main Tank.  Extremely methodical player, reknowned for big brain cerebral plays and unflappability.  Can be slow to push advantages, but never makes mistakes.  Loves the mind games in a Rein v Rein matchup, and unfailingly blocks the enemy shatter (delights in cucking the enemy Rein).  Will play Orisa For The Good Of The Team but takes no joy in it.  Terrifying on defense; takes a strong position and allows time pressure to force enemies into missteps.  When you make a mistake, she will be there.  Strategic backbone of the team.

RenLie - Flex Support.  Bloodthirsty support.  Likes the balance of damage potential and support capacity in Zenyatta, but puts forth strong showings on Moira and Ana as well.  First priority is of course keeping his team alive, but flankers trying to dive him in the back line tend to get sent home in tears.  Big Jjonak energies. :uwuknife: Can be susceptible to tunnel vision/desperation, and occasionally needs teammates to re-ground him.  Always nanos Nora.

PPolen - Offtank.  D.Va one-trick.  Absolutely notorious for eating ults; absolutely infuriating to play hitscan into.  Flawless mechanical skill.  Occasionally struggles with communication, but honestly so on-the-ball that it doesn't usually come back to bite her.  Always has gold objective time.

Qrow - True flex.  Exclusively solo-queues on ladder, just plays the leaderboards.  Played just about every role at some point (except main tank, fuck that), but currently on a flex support kick.  Holds world records for gravs/blizzards/immortality feels clipping through the geometry and falling out of the map.  The sort of Ana who will singlehandedly take out both enemy DPS when beset by flankers only to immediately die to an errant Moira orb.  Gamers can we get an F in chat.  Accustomed to playing on 200+ ping and is deeply unsettled when he moves somewhere with good internet and has to re-learn all his timings.

RWBY+JNPR+P All form a single 9-man roster.  Sub out roles with redundant players for map set strategies and for flexible plays.  Probably called the Beacon Huntsmen or something generic like that, who cares

Winter - Main Tank and Offtank.  Excellent mechanical skill.  Unparalleled when allowed to execute her set strategy, but struggles with adaptability.  Extremely self-sacrificial, and knows exactly how to leverage her health pool to buy time and/or space for her allies to make the plays they need to.  Will unflinchingly act upon callouts, good or bad, because the worst outcome is a split decision.  Especially fond of a quick reset.

Whitley - Doesn't play Overwatch, but holds several championship trophies in international Pokemon tournaments.  Minecraft youtuber.

Adam - Widow one-trick.  Highly overrated, inexplicably popular streamer.  Mechanically talented but poison in a team environment.  Picked up and quickly dropped from several professional teams.  Teabags.  Looks impressive on stream but crumbles against opponents with any semblance of coordination.  Eventually blacklisted from professional environments after one too many scandals in his personal life.

Ozpin -Franchise owner.  Has never actually touched Overwatch, but used to be a respected Starcraft player back in the day.  Took on a coaching role for a time, but now largely manages from afar.  Has a sparse and cryptic social media presence.  Makes business decisions largely at random, unbeknownst to all his subordinates.

Salem - Hates videogames. Will unplug the router if you piss her off.

Ace Ops - High profile roster hand-picked for perfectly complementary hero pools.  Hyped to fuck in the preseason.  Unparalleled individual play but poor communication, incompatible playstyles, and truly abysmal coaching staff keep them from being a top-tier team.  Widely considered a disappointment considering the talent and money backing them.

Harriet - DPS.  Exclusively plays flankers and extremely mobile DPS.  Tries to solo-carry; in her defense, it often works.  Unironically brags/complains about having gold medals.  Quick to tilt but often uses the negative energy to pop off even harder.  Overtime clutch god.

Marrow - Flex DPS.  Cautious player, often hesitant to commit to risky strats.  Flawless positioning, both personally and for thrown abilities.  Talent for projectile DPS; probably contributed not-insignificantly to scatter arrow being removed from the game.  Prefers to understand the enemy's strategy before acting.  Shotcaller.  Nobody listens.

Elm - Main Tanks (Except Reinhardt), Zarya.  Aggressive tank player, frequently found with gold damage.  Generally good natured but vulnerable to tilt if on a losing streak.  Highly momentum-based.  Makes tutorial videos on strategy and positioning for her youtube channel.  Wants to see the competitive scene develop and flourish, but sensitive to feeling threatened by new talent.  Helps them anyway.

Vine - Flex Tanks (except Zarya), Reinhardt.  Unflappable, regardless of quality of games or recent performance.  Good at reading enemy team and tracking ults.  Generally calls enemy plays before they happen.  Always sticks with Elm, largely out of obligation to bail her out when her aggression puts her in a dicey position.  Understated player, rarely in highlight compilations, but extremely consistent performance.  Plays off-meta in scrims so as not to reveal strats.

Clover - Main Healer. Can play any support, but Lucio main through and through.  Suffers from Reddit Lucio syndrome, but usually good enough (or lucky enough) to get away with it.  Loves to deny enemy followup.  Peel master, boop god.  PMA to a borderline-irritating degree.  Gives great pep talks at half time.  Tends to overcommit to strategies that are dead in the water; sometimes it's better to call it and switch comps while you still have time on the clock. Despite this, is opportunistic in the moment-to-moment sense and quick to capitalize on enemy vulnerabilities.

Flynt Coal - Lucio one-trick.  I mean, come on.

Wukong - ???  Exclusively plays off-meta heroes and weird shit.  Talented but remains on ladder because he doesn’t like the rigid structure of tournament play.  Refuses to be confined to a single role.  Hates role lock cause he can’t swap mid game anymore.  Despite all this, somehow tends to be more of an asset than a detriment.  Definitely a team player.  PMA king.  Occasionally finds legitimately competitive strata for underutilized heroes.  Nutty with hammond movement, godawful with mines.  Has the Winston skin equipped, of course.

Ilia - DPS.  Popular streamer.  Tried going pro for a bit, but didn’t like the schedule and retired shortly.  Frequently plays with the community and does weird custom game modes for a laugh.  Loves Daddy Rein Chases Tiny Torblets.  Refuses to open loot boxes, much to the dismay of her stream.  Plays Golfing Over It during long queues.  Draws all her own custom emotes.

Watts - DPS.  Mains Widow, Sombra; plays anything that lets him avoid ever actually engaging the enemy at close range.  Thinks the game stopped being good when Sombra GOATS stopped being a thing.  Spends all day on twitter heckling pro players and declaring Overwatch a dead game.  Suspected of cheating.  Considers himself a shotcaller but isn't very good at it.

Tyrian - Plays Junkrat and Roadhog exclusively.  Thinks it's bullshit that the game doesn't have friendly fire.  Thinks it's bullshit that Junkrat doesn't deal self-inflicted damage anymore.  Master of the bounce shot.  Tends to treat the game like a TDM and forget the objective in favor fragging out.  Targets a single enemy player and tries to get them to tilt.  Uses voice chat but only laughs.  Never makes callouts.  Trash talks in all-chat.  Considers it a personal victory if he gets someone to rage quit.

Hazel - No Role.  Doesn't really get the idea of the metagame; knows it's generally good to have a balanced team but thats about as deep as he chooses to go.  Was one of the old guards of PC gaming but now that it's a mainstream hobby has to refuses to confront that he's hot garbage at them.  Can't really parse everything that's happening onscreen in a fast-paced game like overwatch, so he just picks Torb (regardless of map or attacking/defending status) and uses the turret as a security blanket.  Godawful turret placement.  Still has a good time somehow.

Cinder - Main Tank.  Likes the importance of the role, and especially the way her team has to follow her calls for any chance of success.  A nice balance of aggression and craftiness, she makes a fearsome opponent.  Callouts could be more frequent/detailed, but her directions are always good when given.  Very susceptible to emotional ups and downs, and often takes out frustration on teammates.  Takes losses very hard, gloats about wins.  Happiest with an Ana pocket.

Emerald - Offtank.  Would be much happier on DPS or Support, but desperate to show off and live up to Cinder's expectations.  Sticks with her main tank except when it's absolutely necessary to peel for the back line.  Tends to be overcautious with ults; she's good enough mechanically to earn them relatively quickly, but fear of whiffing one makes her reticent to spend them.  Flawless bubble timing on Zarya.

Mercury - Support.  Still considers Symmetra a support.  Quick to whip out the blaster and try to fight off flankers instead of calling for assistance.  Knows all the angles for a narsty biotic grenade.  Plays as though he's got better positioning and backup than he does; frequently gets opponents to back off just by winning the mental game.  Will let allies die on ladder if they piss him off.

[tleecacc]

Virginia Lee

My mom came into this world on November 11, 1922. She loved that she was born 11/11/22. And she loved that it was something genuinely unique. That it held all the axioms of synchronicity. 

She often proudly told the story of when she was born, how she was so tiny the doctor’s did not expect her to live. As a last resort, a last ditch effort to save her life, the doctor gave my mother horse serum. Apparently that was a thing. And when she made it through the night, the doctor came in the next morning to tell her mother and father that miraculously she was gaining strength. He said to her parents, my grandmother Eulalia, and grandfather Daniel, ‘this little girl is a fighter’ …That she was.

She was born into an era that included the great depression. She lived through a world war, and so many incredible changes that the 20th century presented its almost unfathomable. Some of which she out right rejected, others she eventually either accepted or adopted. Her first microwave oven was used as a bread box for years before she agreed to learn to use it properly. She was the original, ultimate minimalist. She saved wax paper, rubber bans, bread bags and aluminum foil. She abhorred the idea of just throwing things away after one use, which culminated in receiving food gifts wrapped in layers wax paper, encased in at least two bread bags, held tightly together with six rubber bans. She was also a vitamin freak and insisted on a well balanced diet. We were not allowed to leave the house without drinking orange juice that was kept in as air tight a container as possible, so as not to lose its rich life giving force. She detested impracticality. We’d by her gifts to make her life easier but she would eventually admit to one or another of us, ‘Its so unnecessary, I don’t need it’ ‘I’ll never use it. My old (fill in the blank) works just fine’ etc. 

I thought she was the most gentle person ever to touch her feet to this earth. And I believed she couldn’t possibly love anyone as much as she did my brother’s and sisters and I, until she met her grandchildren. My mother held an extraordinary amount of love in her heart for each of them.

She found her spiritual path in the love and devotion she exhibited towards her family everyday of her life, and to every person she encountered, with few exceptions. She prayed for all of us everyday. Harder if she thought we were in special need, a heart was aching, someone's health was in question, a soul was at risk… or you spent time in bars which is the same thing…  so yeah, she prayed a lot. 

My mother was one of 11 children born to Daniel and Eulalia May. When you come from large families such as ours, you can spew out the names of your offspring or siblings in successive order as if it were one name. For my Mother’s family it was

BobDorthyVirginiaMaryRitaBillLoraineDaveDanBarbaraTom. And by the time my mother was 14 years old, she was a mother to her 8 younger siblings, as her mother was rarely well. She never complained about that role. She loved her brothers and sisters and was devoted to their care. She loved each of them and their individual take on life. She was very proud of the life they each garnered for themselves and their children. She was happy to see them living in a world less harsh than the childhood they endured. She held an extraordinary capacity of love in her heart for each of them. And she took their needs on without the least bit of resentment or regret. 

My mother’s family moved 17 times in her years at home. In a family with six gorgeous women you can imagine the stir it caused within each neighborhood they were adopted into. They were the May girls. With their flowing red, auburn and black heads of hair, their Miss America smiles and that undeniable May sense of fun loving humor. To say they were gregarious almost doesn’t do their personalities justice. 

My momma was beautiful, physically and spiritually. She loved her life. She was radiant in the outdoors and pushed us daily to be out in the fresh air. She was athletic. Mom made the varsity field hockey team as a freshman. She never drove a car and so walked everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Which may explain the athletic prowess of her children. As toddlers, when the newest sibling took over your spot in the stroller, we had to run along side her to keep up. Although she only stood four foot eleven, she had legs that moved incredibly fast. This tiny, feisty, determined woman walked everywhere and loved every minute of it, so it was hard on all of us to see the loss of that freedom in the recent months when her health finally took that joyful ability away. 

According to my mother, the advent of television was humanities downfall, and she was determined to get us children out of doors in the fresh air. She loved picnics in the park and spending time in our large back yard (‘you can’t find a back yard like that just anywhere’). She took us places on busses when my dad did not. We rode to the Art museum, Steinberg, downtown, the Muny free seats, all of forest park really and of course Cardinal Glennon Hospital. A place I believe they new her by name. She made sure we learned to swim, rode bikes, and spent as much time as possible at Jamieson park. She ensured we ran, play ball of any and every kind. All of which we each embraced and learned to love. And to this day we, each of us appreciates her love of nature, because she instill that same love in each of us.

We woke every morning to a good, most often hot breakfast. We were not allowed to escape without first downing a glass of orange juice. Our nutrition was high on her list. Good food on our plates was something she did not often have as a child and often went hungry. I think she is the only person I know who actually did walk uphill to and from school…in worn-out clothes and ill fitting shoes. So to my mother, giving your children what you didn’t have meant that we had everything that was important. Sometimes more, but never less. 

She made Christmas Eve our best family celebration every single year. And the tradition goes on today, and will never fade if most of us have our way. It was one occasion that brought us together without fail with all of our clashing personalities, boisterous voices, our loud laughter, and our undying competitive spirits. And an occasional cartwheel from Uncle Laurie. It wasn’t always easy. It was always crowded. And nothing gave her greater joy than to see us all hugging and joking and telling stories, especially if they were about her. She never once let us for a minute question her deep abiding love for us, and she laced all of it with her Irish, indelible May family sense of humor. 

My mother was hilarious and she’d be the first one to let that be known. Her sense of humor was one of her great attributes and oh so contagious. My mom instilled in us a basic truth, that one can get through any hardship with prayer and an ability to laugh at ones own foibles. Besides, they made for better stories. And she was the ultimate storyteller, often laughing harder than everyone in the room. She’d sometimes be laughing so hard you couldn’t make out the punch line. And she loved a good practical joke. She once turned off the kitchen lights and laid herself out on the floor, playing dead, to scare my brother Scott, after he and my brother Chris had just spent an hour telling my sisters and me scary stories in the dark. Stories and antics that made us scream with fear and laughter, except maybe Laurie. She screamed alright but then burst into tears….of course…Because Laurie cries at everything so, grain of salt. But man she got him good. And laid there on the floor laughing so hard her belly shook.

She had the most contagious smile. Broad and genuinely warm and engaging. Her laugh was the most incredible music I’ve ever known. If she was telling you a story that she found particularly hilarious, it was all she could do to get the words out as she could hardly breathe. In those moments it didn’t matter that you might not be able to understand her, her joy was a gift.

She made our life so amazing. Nine kids in a 2 bedroom house with a 1/2 story attic big enough for 5 girls to share, like a dorm room. A finished basement where we could roller skate when it rained, or play ping pong or pool and a room that held a zillion board games, blocks, bats, balls, snow suits and boots, a record player, dart board, and the electric trains we set up every Christmas. She taught us to play cards, and never complained when we turned up the stereo or radio when we girls were doing dishes, or dad was out of the house. 

She pitched whiffle balls, set up our croquet game or let us use her clothes line for badminton or volleyball. She let us dig in the dirt, play with the hose when it was hot, had my dad build us a sand box and a swing set. She taught us how to cross stitch and made paste with flour and water to stick our construction paper cutouts together. She was unstoppable. She was the ultimate mother. I am who I am today because on 11/11/22, the day God took his wand and cast stardust across the universe and breathed life into my sweet sweet mother, the tiny infant that was not expected to live. She fought for her own life and that of her children and grandchildren with love and prayer and sheer determination. She fought with a deep love for life and heart felt prayer from her soul, for each of us.

The last day she was awake, she gave me a message to pass on to her children. It was a moment I will never forget for the remainder of my own days, and worth repeating often.

‘Tell the children I said goodbye. 

Tell them that I love them so much.

Tell them to be good to their mother’s and dads, they love them so much

I love them so much’

I said, I promise momma, I love you so much

She said, ‘I love you more.’…I love you more. How could I ever argue that.

Addendum:

Since the funeral, I have wanted to finish my acknowledgments of the remainder of my siblings that I did not mention at church. Sorry, I lost if after Peggy…

To:

My brother Christopher Dennis, for all the quiet stoic patience that my mother instilled in you. I remember how you always got on your bike and ran errand for mom as a kid. How you took on babysitting duties and made those times fun for us. How you rarely, if ever, complained about life in the middle of 9 kids. How much joy you gave her with the attention and love you gave to our brother Mark. It made her so happy. Mom loved you so much and I could always see her appreciation of you and your gentle way of being. When I look at you, I see that part of her in you.

Mark Joseph, wish you could read and understand me so I could tell you how incredibly much she loved you. Words could never convey.

James, I’m happy she is finally able to bestow all of herself on you now.

Carol Lee. Mom loved you so so deeply. She worried about you constantly, and was so grateful to be able to be there for you in the hard times you suffered from a disease doctors knew very little about in your younger years. She was always so happy to hear your sweet voice on the phone, and to know you were okay. I know she hated leaving you. Thank you for always staying so closely connected to her.

Laurie Lee. She thought she was finished having her passel of children, but as she was apt to reminded you, she decided she had room for just one more, and that was you. I love how much you loved her. How you kept in contact with her and worried about her. You were her last and she enjoyed spoiling you with her time and attention in the years when you were the last be at home with her before grade school. She always noted your generous heart, and you are more like her in that way than many, you just cry more…then again maybe not. She was so proud of you and how hard you worked for the sisters. You are so devoted to your own family, and working for the nuns is almost as good as having a priest for a son…, but not quite so don’t get a big May head about it. Lucy I am so grateful to have been there, to bare whitness, as you, her youngest child, knowing this would probably be her last meal bravely spoon feed her, through tears of course, that last bit of ice cream. I will never forget it.

Finally I come to Scott David. This one, will get to me the most. I spent many hours over my lifetime watching my mom with her own struggles, for her strength to take care of her brood with little sleep, for her ability to keep going after a particularly difficult day with the Bear, which were many, to fight her own depression from being overwhelmed with the enormity of the load she bore everyday from the sheer logistics of her life. But you Scottie were my hero in that. You could make mom laugh with just a one liner as you came barreling through the door. You were a true angel in mom’s life and therefore all of our lives. You brought her more joy with your own May sense of humor than all of us put together. You made her day, everyday that you were near her, and for that I could never repay you. I relished every single moment of watching you, with your quick and whitty sense of irony, make her laugh, make her smile, make her silently giggle. Thank you for all the Johnnie Carson nights you spent with her. I enjoyed watching the two of you at that hour more than any other hour of the day, because you could always bring her relief with your own joy of life. Thank you for all the practical jokes you put up with from her. They were the best and I was always on board with being in on them. You as much as mom taught me that with a humor, everything, no matter how difficult, can be made better, could be eased. I can never find the words to express how much hope you brought back to us when you lifted her spirits. Thank you for giving her so much joy. I don’t know what she would have done without you in her life.

Love you Momma,

Theresa Lee 

[darkelfshadow]

Session Summary - 75

AKA “Nest Of The Yuan-ti”

Adventures in Taggeriell

Session 75  (Date: 13th December 2019)

Players Present:

- Rob (Known as “Varis”) Elf Male.

- Bob (Known as “Sir Krondor) Dwarf Male.

- Paul (Known as “Labarett”) Elf Male.

- Travis (Known as “Trenchant”) Human Male.

- Arthur (Known as “Gim”) Dwarf Male.

Absent Players

Nil

NPC

- (Known as “Naillae”) Elf Female. <Controlled by Travis>

Summary

- Toilday, 9th Pharast in the year 815 (Second Era). Late Spring.

- The party begin this session, in the early evening, within the dusty ancient tomb of Diderius.

- Spending some time exploring two connected rooms now that the battle with the tile Chimera is over. They explore the pool chamber room, examining and trying to decipher the function of the room but to no avail. After Sir Krondor risks his life by jumping into the black waters of the pool, he discovers the large claw marks of an unknown creature on the surface of the pool walls and he quickly exits the waters. After splashing water all over the stone floor of the chamber, Trenchant drops the stone bucket into the pool to block the smaller feed hole on the bottom of the pool, fifteen feet below the surface of the water.

- The party move back to the strangely shaped long chamber, that Varis “discovered” when he was rolled into it by the trap. Eight large ancient tapestries hang from the walls, their colour and designs long since faded away. A single stone door, and a pair of large stone double doors lead on from this chamber.

- As Trenchant approaches the set of large double stone doors, he hears a voice in his head. He tells the party about the voice, warning him that they must offer humility in the manner of Mystril. The party discuss this and some of them recall that the followers of Mystril, the Goddess of Arcana, Magic and The Pursuit of Learning, sometimes performed a ritual by bowing low down, head lowered, with a lit lantern held above. This ritual was supposed to show the humble seeker of knowledge using the light of truth to find their way.

- Trenchant uses a lit lantern and performs the gesture near the double doors, as he does so, from around the room,  the muffled sound of low, crackling voices come from behind each of the eight tapestries: “You may pass.”

- The party look around the room, nervously, unsure of what lays behind the tapestries.

- Varis speaks, “Do we want to look behind the tapestries?”

- Trenchant, Sir Krondor and Labarett each respond in unison, “No!” and the party quickly move through the stone double doors into another chamber. A stone throne sits upon a massive dais resembling a floating cloud concealing a golden sun. Standing next to the throne is a twelve foot tall, regal figure dressed in gold armour with a flowing red plume from his golden helmet. This figure stands near a single stone door. On the other side of the room are another set of double stone doors. The golden figure points to a small pile of treasure and a voice bellows “Ye who seek Diderius’s insight must first furnish tribute, that Diderius might work his mighty magic. Lay such tribute at my feet or depart.”

- One by one the party each place a valuable offering down before the figure and then after failing to get the figure to answer any other question, they proceed through the single door near where it stands. The figure allows them to proceed.

- Moving down a set of stairs the party enter a long rectangular chamber. Three solid stone tables are here. An open archway has more stairs going downwards, with dried blood visible at the top. A single stone door lays at the far end of the chamber. Six bearded devils are seated or standing around the room, some are wearing large oversized travel robes with hoods, others have discarded the robes onto the floor. They are all looking at the bloody stairs leading downwards, and only momentarily turn to look at the party silently before returning their gaze to the downward stairs.

- The party look at the Devils silently in confusion. Trenchant speaks softly, “OK, this is weird.” He hails the Devils and the party enter into a strange dialog with the Devils. They can speak Common, but badly, and just keep repeating that they must kill anything that comes from the bloody stairs. The party deduce that these are the large strange figures seen travelling with Varram The White and are under his control, by order of the Archduchess of Avernus, Lady Zariel, the planes of Hell.

- The party are not able to obtain any useful information from the Devils as they can not speak Infernal and the Devils only know a limited amount of Common. The party decide not to go down the bloody stairs but instead move through the single stone door and find themselves in a large chamber that holds a single curved circular stone pool, which is currently empty but stained black. A stone channel leads from one wall towards the pool. A dead body of a Cultist, with one single wound to his heart lays near by. Broken stone arrows with strange markings lay all around the floor.

- The party explore and search the room and deduce that the black pool in the other chamber must channel water into this stone basin. The party decide not to go back and try this but instead move onwards through a set of large stone double doors. As Trenchant and Sir Krondor approach the doors they both hear a voice warning them not to disturb the resting place of Diderius. Trenchant uses a spell to disguise himself as a Cultist.

- Carefully and cautiously the party open the doors and move into a rectangular chamber lit by braziers that flicker with green flames. A massive stone sarcophagus sits atop a stepped stone dais. The plaster walls are decorated showing unknown figures and strange scenes.

- The party enter and once again Trenchant uses a lantern to hold above his head and bow down low, speaking out that they seek the great Diderius.

- The ancient voice of Diderius, with no emotion responds from the sarcophagus. The party learn that Varram did pass here and that he was taken by the Yuan-ti. They learn that the Draakhorn is somewhere where all the Dragons dwell, so too is “One Eye”. Diderius tells the party that he will open the passage onwards when they are ready, they only need place a hand upon his sarcophagus.

- The party ready their weapons and all stand around the sarcophagus and touch it. A hidden stone door quickly slides up revealing a secret passageway. A single lit torch illuminates half a dozen unarmed and unarmoured Lizardfolk wearing simple robes.

- The party move into battle formation as the Lizardfolk prepare to respond. Varis lets fly an arrow at one of the Lizardfolk who easily snaps his hand out to grab the arrow and then throw it back towards Varis. All six Lizardfolk then enter into obvious martial art poses and stances.

- “Oh great! They’re bloody Monks!” bellows Sir Krondor as he rushes forward to engage them.

- The battle erupts with the party having to improvise and change their normal tactics. The Monks are able to grab all ranged projectiles and use them back on the party, forcing the party to get close. But the Monks are very agile, able to leap over the parties lines of defence and their flurry of blows can render foes stunned. Luckily for the party the Monks are somewhat fragile and soon they are dropped, even with the arrival of two Yuan-ti to help them.

- The party now have to deal with the next obstacle, a slopping stone bridge slick with wet moss, that spans a pit who’s bottom can not be seen. Two Yuan-ti archers wait on the other side, ready to pick off the party as they approach. Thanks to Trenchant sneaking ahead though, the party are forewarned of the Yuan-ti, and they launch a sudden attack against one of the Yuan-ti dropping the creature quickly. Sir Krondor is forced to walk the slippery bridge in a mindless wander, following the Suggestion of remaining Yuan-ti, who is also quickly dropped. With his awareness and control returned, Sir Krondor uses his climbing kit gear to crawl over the bridge setting pitons and rope along the entire length. This allows the rest of the party to safely cross.

- The party proceed to a junction where either they have to travel down a strange multiple branching corridor where the floor appears to be moving snake scales or enter a large chamber filled with statues, suits of armour and with walls lined with hundreds of holes.

- The party decide to head down the corridor with the moving scales, though it appears the scales are just an illusion as they can not feel the scales and it has no effect on their movement.

- Proceeding down the corridor, ignoring connecting passageways and closed doors, the party press on wards. Half way down the corridor they are attacked by four Yuan-ti from behind, who quickly overcome Naillae and bring her to the ground in a death grip as one of the Yuan-ti uses his snake body to coil around her.

- The party desperately try to turn back and save Naillae but then another foe appears. A much larger Yuan-ti, muscular body rippling with green scales. Two massive arms end in long razor sharp claws and the beast has a long stretched powerful jaw filled with jagged teeth. This Abomination leaps towards the other end of the party, its powerful attacks ripping into them. The party fight back, unable to retreat or reposition and desperately try to inflict as mush damage as possible as quickly as possible.

- Through sheer audacity and a bit of luck, the party kill all the Yuan-ti. As they stand around, catching their breath and checking each other for injuries, they each look over at the size and muscular form of the Yuan-ti Abomination. One of them nearly overpowered the party, and the same thought runs through each of their heads: these things better not attack in groups.

<And as the party catch their breath after that hectic battle, pushing forward into the Yuan-ti nest in search of Varram The White, that is the end of the session.>

XP Allocation

Group - Combined (This is equally divided by the number of players who were involved)

Quests (Only quests that are completed or rendered undoable, during this session, are shown here)

- “The Light Of Truth” Avoid The Guardians Of Mystril (WISDOM) = 250 XP

- “Shiny!” Furnish Tribute To Diderius = 250 XP (Individually awarded to each person that did so)

- “Don’t touch ANYTHING!” Respect Diderius’s Resting Place (WISDOM or KNOWLEDGE) = 250 XP

- “Why did it have to be snakes!?” Avoid Falling Into Snake Feeding Pit = 250 XP

- “Take The Easy Path?” Avoid Detection On The Snake Corridor = FAIL

Creatures Overcome

- Lizardfolk Monks = 2700 XP

- Yuan-ti Malisons (Type 1) = 3500 XP

- Yuan-ti Malisons (Type 3) = 2100 XP

- Yuan-ti Abomination = 2900 XP

Individual (This is only given to that person and is not divided amongst all players)

Special Bonus (Outstanding Role Playing)

Nil

XP Levels and Player Allocations

Player : Start +  Received = Total  (Notes)

Rob : 87178 + 2242 = 89420

Arthur : 68544 + 2242 = 70786

Travis : 78999 + 2242 = 81241

Paul : 67875 + 2242 = 70117

Bob : 74303 + 2242 = 76545

NPC (Naillae) : + (1121)

[marginalgloss]

different and worse

‘…There were so many ways in which the vast army of the dead could be drilled, classified, inspected, and made to present their ghostly arms. No end to the institutions, civilian and military, busy drawing up their sombre balance sheet and recording it in wood, stone or metal. But if there was no end to the institutions there was no end to the dead men either. In truth, there were more than enough to go round several times over…’

Troubles was not the first novel by J.G. Farrell, but it was the first to achieve really significant literary success. Farrell wrote three novels set in a loosely connected trilogy set in the twilight of the British empire — I read The Singapore Grip last year, and I’ve been meaning to revisit this one, which I first read many years ago. It might be the best thing Farrell ever wrote, though I now find myself wanting to reread The Siege of Krishnapur as well.

Troubles is set in Ireland, in the immediate aftermath of the First World War. Having been freshly discharged from the army, Brendan Archer (mostly known as ‘the Major’) travels there to visit Angela Spencer; Brendan is more or less convinced that he and Angela are engaged, having met previously while he was on leave from the front lines. They have exchanged letters since, but on arriving at her home — the Majestic hotel — he finds her distant. Her father, Edward, is a model of English strength and reserve. And then there is the hotel itself: a gothic revival falling apart at the seams, overrun by potted plants and cats, populated by a skeleton crew of staff and flocks of elderly women. 

The hotel is labyrinthine and seemingly fathomless, like something out of Ballard or Borges. It is an unmappable confection of turrets and towers, sewn up with catwalks, stairwells, secret corridors. The tennis courts are thick with weeds; the glass ceiling of the ballroom is on the verge of collapse; there are strange things swimming in the murky remnants of the swimming pool. Here, at the end of a lonely peninsula, the residents are cut off from the outside world. The only reminder that the Irish exist at all comes from the figures glimpsed at the roadside, sometime seen standing in the fields, or rummaging in the bins at the house. (Many of them are starving.) 

We soon realise that the Major lives in a state of post-traumatic myopia. Everything around him seems to take place in a sort of dreamlike haze. Like a typical man of his class he makes a point of not seeing things about how the world is operating, but his experiences in the war place him at a further remove from the rest of society. He is typically English; he adopts an attitude of perpetual befuddlement, leaning heavily on privilege and impatience to get himself through the day. He is inflexible and uncommunicative. But he is also deeply traumatised. His memories are shot full of holes:

‘Although he was sure that he had never actually proposed to Angela during the few days of their acquaintance, it was beyond doubt that they were engaged: a certainty fostered by the fact that from the very beginning she had signed her letters ‘Your loving fiancée, Angela’. This had surprised him at first. But, with the odour of death drifting into the dug-out in which he scratched out his replies by the light of a candle, it would have been trivial and discourteous beyond words to split hairs about such purely social distinctions.’

Ireland is riven by violence. Rumours of killings are rife around the hotel. People are shot in ones and twos every day, apparently at random. Interspersed throughout the book are newspaper clippings, many of which seem absurd. It seems a bleak, purposeless cycle of assault and recrimination. But in spite of the resident paranoia, next to nothing actually happens on the grounds of the Majestic. No republican ‘shinners’ appear intent on massacring the residents in their beds. But regardless, the English are determined to make a stand — even if it is only in the bar of the local pub.

This novel was first published in 1970, at a time when Northern Ireland was seeing some of the worst violence in the latter half of the twentieth century. By comparison the level of strife depicted here seems almost parochial by comparison. But this is because the whole text of the novel is sunk within the consciousness of an observer who is too broken himself to see what’s really happening. After all, this is 1919: in historical terms we are in the thick of the Irish war of independence. The country would finally become its own nation state a few years later. But none of it feels that way to the characters in the book.

Perhaps there’s something about it that approximates the feeling of watching the news in the late sixties or early seventies— while living in England, of course. It is a constant drip-feed of appalling atrocity, delivered with the benefit of distance so that the expected response from the audience is to feel exactly as the Major does: ‘An old man is gunned down in the street and within a couple of days this senseless act is both normal and inevitable,’ reflects the Major. For him these killings might as well be happening in a vacuum. Names like De Valera float through the air, but they might as well belong to legendary beings. There’s no awareness of history or context. There is barely a line in this book which affords a glimpse of the world from an Irish perspective. We don’t know how they might feel about it because we aren’t told. 

‘The Major only glanced at the newspaper these days, tired of trying to comprehend a situation which defied comprehension, a war without battles or trenches. Why should one bother with the details: the raids for arms, the shootings of policemen, the intimidations? What could one learn from the details of chaos? Every now and then, however, he would become aware with a feeling of shock that, for all its lack of pattern, the situation was different, and always a little worse.’

We are stuck in the belly of the beast, and the beast is dying. The Major is trapped in ‘the country’s vast and narcotic inertia’. The hotel is falling apart. Angela vanishes not long after the Major arrives, and then she dies. Somehow this is not a cause for much regret. From then on, he has no reason to stay in Ireland, but the place has a strange gravity that seems to draw him back. And there is Sarah, a local woman who seems to have taken an interest in him. She is fiery, direct and open — far more than he — and initially she is mostly confined to a wheelchair. There are shades of Stefan Zweig’s Beware of Pity in their relationship: the Major is a model of polite restraint, while Sarah is openly flirtatious, at times frantic with emotion:

‘One day when he had been speaking, though impersonally, about marriage and its place in the modern world, she interrupted him brutally by saying: ‘It’s not a wife you’re looking for, Brendan. It’s a mother!’ The Major was upset because he had not, in fact, been saying he was looking for either. ‘Why are you so polite the whole time?’ she would ask derisively, while the Major, appalled, wondered what was wrong with being polite. ‘Why are you always fussing around those infernal old women? Can’t you smell how awful they are?’ she would demand, making a disgusted face, and when the Major said nothing she would burst out: ‘Because you’re an old woman yourself, that’s why.’ And since the Major maintained his hurt and dignified silence: ‘And for Jesus’ sake stop looking at me like a stuffed squirrel!’’

It’s a very funny book. Farrell was a masterful stylist, and he wields irony here like a weapon. There is humour to be had at the expense of the English in a way that recalls P. G. Wodehouse. But with Jeeves and Wooster there is the pleasure of retreating inside a world which is entirely its own — for the most part, nothing really awful can happen there. Whereas here, we are never allowed to forget that something awful is perpetually happening only just outside of that friendly bubble. And it isn’t so cosy inside the bubble either. 

Either way, we cannot forget that the characters of the novel are all implicated, if only through their vast unthinking ignorance. There is something very dark crouching at the heart of this book, something made all the more tragic by the Major’s essential simplicity, by his constant air of strained incomprehension. We know that he will never learn, that he will never grow. Somehow he is both entirely innocent and fully responsible for everything that goes wrong. 

He is not the only pathetic creature here. The author reserves a special combination of pathos and threat for the animals that reside at the Majestic. They are vehicles for fables in this story. There are the countless stray cats, which ride the dumb-waiters, climb through the chimneys and nest inside the wrecked sofas. (The biggest cat has orange fur and bright green eyes; a noteworthy colouring, perhaps.) And there’s Edward’s old dog, Rover, who has an especially hard time of it:

‘By degrees he was going blind; his eyes had turned to milky blue and he sometimes collided with the furniture. The smells he emitted while sitting at the feet of the whist-players became steadily more redolent of putrefaction. Like the Major, Rover had always enjoyed trotting from one room to another, prowling the corridors on this floor or that. But now, whenever he ventured up the stairs to nose around the upper storeys, as likely as not he would be set upon by an implacable horde of cats and chased up and down the corridors to the brink of exhaustion. More than once the Major found him, wheezing and spent, tumbling in terror down a flight of stairs from some shadowy menace on the landing above. Soon he got into the habit of growling whenever he saw a shadow. Then, as the shadows gathered with his progressively failing sight, he would rouse himself and bark fearfully even in the broadest of daylight, gripped by remorseless nightmares. Day by day, no matter how wide he opened his eyes, the cat-filled darkness continued to creep a little closer.’

There’s another elderly dog in Farrell’s later novel The Singapore Grip — an elderly spaniel who is nicknamed ‘The Human Condition’. The irony there is a bit less subtle, but the implication is equally bleak. By the end of this novel Edward and the Major will both be reduced to growling at shadows, each in their own way. But perhaps the Major has more in common with the deserted pet rabbit who has been left to fend for himself in the grounds of the hotel: 

‘…Old and fat, it had been partly tamed by the twins when they were small children. They had lost interest, of course, as they grew older, and no longer remembered to feed it. The rabbit, however, had not forgotten the halcyon days of carrots and dandelion leaves. Thinner and thinner as time went by, it had nevertheless continued to haunt the fringes of the wood like a forsaken lover…’

Of course the rabbit ends up riddled with bullets. He is shot to death by British soldiers for fun. But the twins are not as upset as the Major expects them to be. They only want to know if they can eat him. 

[zeroxmi-blog]

eden project: i.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑, a solo for the unaffiliated reputation reward.

the call arrives in slivers of trepidation, and he captures the hints of hand tremors that come alongside it. it’s 2:38am. the voice contains too many fears, dissolving the truth of despair. it’s the man’s first time diving into the pool of blood, so naturally, jongin understands that he’s scared. still, it’s impressive how the man can find the number that leads to zero. there’s no secret code to decipher, everything given in plain details as the man seems to cling to this as the last resort. definitely naïve, but jongin isn’t here to judge. there’s always a first time for everything, and he respects the prior engagement the man has conducted to reach the point he is now: speaking to the altered voice of a heavily cloaked presence. fairly sure the man shakes more once jongin ended the silence on his end to speak in the unnatural voice, ensuring the man that the job can be done at such a price. it’s hefty, sure, but the target isn’t just anyone. the man speaks too much, or so the man realizes, stopping himself in the midst of his own rant. it’s amusing, to say the least, and jongin decides to give this man the time of his night. he’s patient — or so he’d like to think.

thoughts flit. the name returns to the conversation albeit stilted. the crooked spine of this man’s wants a young blood dead. his mind filters names, conjugating them with faces. kang doyoon isn’t a man of unabridged riches; it reminds jongin of himself. they’re of the same age, and certainly within the same social circle. all the affluent, they’re bound to cross paths in this small island run in cold veins. and here’s what jongin understands: nothing can touch doyoon for those whose channel doesn’t splay across the territories jongin has known like the back of his hand. and that’s where zero’s aid is needed. therefore, the so-called job, but jongin has a feeling that this won’t unfold the way his client wants it. still, payment has been sent to the fictitious account, that will later meander its way through twenty-eight more from banks in various countries, ending up in an actual bank account that jongin has never bothered checking. say, he does this occupation as a form of volunteer, wiping the weak off this filthied land so that the thriving players can last longer in the games. long enough to strive for the pandemonium to begin. all the manmade slaughter; everything that jongin wants to witness in this reality.

he doesn’t need to know the man’s name; an untraceable number, discarded after its use is over. sure. he will know soon enough, jongin decides. a man like kang doyoon doesn’t keep his mouth shut, enemies with slit throats acting like common decencies in his agenda. jongin only understands that doyoon suspects nothing of him as far as he’s concerned, kim jongin the beguiled and spoiled heir who poses no danger whatsoever towards doyoon’s wellbeing. but zero, now doyoon perhaps has heard of him in fleeting news. rumors that sneak into the corners of the transient thoughts. and back to the blueprints of this potential crime scene, instincts tell the man to hang up as soon as possible: all these idle talks get naught done. also, perhaps the man notices that the more he converses with the supposed hitman, the more about himself spilled. alas, it doesn’t matter now. the assassin has been multitasking, discovering the coordinates as to where the man’s currently at. how careless, but it adds to the amusement. he accesses the public camera, finding the man standing nearby an alley, his posture slouched. balding, perhaps in his mid 50′s to 60′s. wrinkled shirt, tie hanging loosely from his collar. pacing in anxiety, trying to end the conversation that has lasted for almost five minutes. jongin rests his chin on his hand, ennui creeping in together with impatience. ah well, there goes his presumed virtue; he’s not here for inane exchanges. when it eventually ends, jongin finds his eyebrows raised. he’s taken notes, both mental and physical, on anything that’s required for the task at hand.

kang doyoon is coiled around his own ego, flattering to say the least. it almost reminds jongin of his life prior to boston, with tacit bodyguards following him around, except this one is more twisted. those shadowing doyoon works for a certain gang whose strings are synchronized around this island’s existence: a name hushed among the bustling city. he’s known enough about all of them, deeper than superficial level. sponsors that support their means are provided with protection, and doyoon has exactly that. as far as impression goes, doyoon is lacquered with borrowed arrogance. a pinch of daredevil smiles that don’t fit his mouth well, but jongin isn’t one to comment on that. instead, he decides to see where this leads. he’s in a river; this is a flow. calls it a night after collecting enough information for himself, he calls it a night. being roused from sleep is not a rarity, inevitable in this line of job, but an insomniac would still find it a nuisance at the very least.

a day is all he needs, schedules cleared to make space for this one kill that might turn things around. the men around doyoon remain vigilant, as if smelling his presence already, but zero isn’t one to be taunted by sheer number considering the experiences he’s pocketed. underneath the shadows that flicker with the night’s jaundice lights, he admires the dedication. it’s almost midnight. he can wait longer, always pedantic with his works. all the punishments ouroboros has marked on his psyche are not in vain — they’ve shaped such an effective weapon with too many repressed traumas. but here, a toast for these merciless men. stitches that don’t dry in his mind, now only soothed via his lust towards chaos. an infernal machine he is, clad in his specifically designed gear; kang doyoon certainly doesn’t make it effortless for zero with having his office within the confines of too many walls. walls to penetrate, with dozens of guards readied to take zero down. well, fuck, doyoon could’ve had an office facing the city skyline, all full-length glass windows that shatter with ease — but instead, he’s enveloped with the highest level of security. yet, zero has mapped it out, the escape route and everything.

time is incising. inside, probably buried underneath the piles of paperwork, is his target. he’s approximated at least twenty people in the perimeters, and zero knows this won’t leave a clean scene, but the bloodier, the better. when he enters the building via the rooftop entrance, he’s greeted by two men that hold this like nothing of a surprise. coursing in zero’s veins is the hunger for a good fight, however, so he entertains their trying to shoot him from the distance, evading bullets an ingrained skill. he closes the gap between them and himself in quick strides, leaping to meet one’s chin with his knee. taking down the other with the gun of his comrade’s is always satisfying for zero, saving his own for a latter’s use. a point blank with the silencer attached, he grabs the man in his grip closer, turning the position around to wrap his garrote around the neck. it’s an easy kill, and a quiet one at that, too. he hasn’t given them time to notify their fellow bodyguards, but they might realize the night is silent, too silent. zero likes it this way.

the stairs are all equipped with the cameras, stalking his every move, but he’s not here to be furtive. once he hits the second from the top level, he knows that the evacuation system for the man they’re protecting has been enacted. he knows that it means the surmised exit doors are taking his target away as he’s running towards more guards with their guns — there’s no flavor to it, but zero will take whatever thrill that he can obtain. his gunning them down only serves as a waste of time, but approximately, there are ten more minutes until he needs to reach the given rendezvous point. in this abrasive collision, there’s also this complexity that leaves zero’s persona a wish: to build an empire, to claim a crown. this is of his own accord, which is why he didn’t choose to join any of them. there must be a name carved for his glory, and he’s trying to get the message across by counting the bullets he’s clattered. all these butchered lives leave pungent elements of iron, invading his nose as he inhales. this is a true juxtaposition, placing gore alongside his satisfaction. it’s the malady speaking.

twenty-three, and twenty-four. the number of the now victims doesn’t fulfill his craving. he’s still in the season of desires even when he’s drenched in the blood of his enemies. their stench doesn’t differ them from anyone even when they were supposed to be the serpents twined around ankles. he watches their corpses with a blank expression under his full-face mask, giving them a once over to admire his work. he’s never prided himself in leaving the scene clean – it’s the trace that heads towards nowhere in general that proffers satisfaction for him. he’s named zero for something. the null for those who try chasing after him: they can always reach him, but they can never catch him. a reputation to uphold, he believes even his connection to ouroboros is something that the majority are unaware of, still. but now, it’s not about them, not about the men that sometimes still haunt his nightmares in poltergeists. but from them, he’s learned to speak sans tongue, like now. but it won’t remain for long. ensuring that everyone is dead within the establishment, he understands that a man like kang doyoon would know that he cannot run that far. and even if his suspicions are wrong, zero has too many ways to derail doyoon’s trip away from the designated rendezvous point. no, this hasn’t been a shock at the very least, to see that the target is waiting for him in the lane just beside the office. as if this was planned, when it’s anything but.

the meeting can be concise, but even the prideful can be scared for their lives. four men, holding zero at a gunpoint. but this is besides the message he wants to convey. can do the job within this moment, just right here, although that might compromise his own safety. but where’s the fun in staying within that comfort bubble? zero is always one to challenge that. he smirks when doyoon signals for the men to standby. he’s tall, almost as tall as zero, built infused with the weight of overflown conceit. a normal exposure for jongin, as it resembles those he would meet frequently within the social circles. but zero, he likes these men because they think they can take down the world with money. a risible belief, but sure, at least there’s willingness to fight a battle in there. the man who puts the stakes on zero, however; well, that man is already out of commission. doyoon is a fresh face whose ambitions would partake in this war. zero cocks his head to the side, wondering what about doyoon that is very… off… to the point where everything zero guessed came true. men like that, they always hang onto their askew point of view, grinning through their stalactite teeth. zero decides that he likes doyoon just fine, but doyoon can be one thing that his competitor cannot: a messenger to hydrus.

of course, doyoon would start with a wary countenance, but it doesn’t mean that he’s fully sure about his own demise. zero would give him an applause for that; trading lives has never been an easy task to accomplish. still, doyoon tries. “how much did he pay you?” he asks, voice barely wavers but it’s still there, the reek of fear. zero quirks his eyebrows, smiling. it’s incredible how the man fits such a mold zero conceived way prior. zero hums, and says the number as he raises his hands, ensuring that he’s harmless. no gun, no knife. nothing. he’s defenseless against the four hydrus men. “he’s the one stealing from me,” doyoon tries again, this time with more composure. not bad. zero’s distorted voice doesn’t bother him at all. if anything, doyoon is confident that he can win against the one hiring zero. there’s more conviction lining the tone as doyoon elaborates further, the man’s name a factor that’s pressed several times, as if trying to ensure zero that doyoon does understand the gravity of his own position. “i’ll pay you as much, and you can keep the half he’s given you,” he bargains at the end, now letting zero know that he, too, has comprehended the systematics of this business. “we’ll turn it around, hm, zero?”

zero tilts his head to the side, before scoffing. the muzzles of the guns still aimed at him, he’s already putting his hands down. to be very honest, he hates the way doyoon carries himself, all the derisive mannerism that makes jongin have to look at himself in the mirror. “sure,” zero eventually says, but that doesn’t make the bodyguards lower their defenses. doyoon walks closer, nevertheless, knowing that zero has nothing against the four men. zero chuckles. the meeting is over as soon as one of the men step into the trap zero has created under the shade. the small detonation is enough to set the man on fire, its sound redeemed by the scream of the man. it suffices as a way to distract them, with zero gunning the two men down at a time. the last one shoots last, and while he manages to avoid most of it, the bullet grazes his cheek. he retaliates with a determined murder, and when he turns around, it becomes the classic case of doyoon pressing his gun against zero’s temple. zero doesn’t have time to digest it, body already moving to kick doyoon away from his station. the trigger is pulled, aiming at nothing in general but the air above. the bullet lands on the asphalt in ricochet, and the gun skids towards the wall with a decisive ending.

it’s not like zero doesn’t relish in all this, sauntering towards doyoon to step on doyoon’s hand before doyoon can reach out for the closest weapon. now, doyoon trembles. zero basks in the sight, his shooting doyoon’s right thigh while locking his gaze on doyoon’s face obviously amuses him. there’s no pity as he presses one knee on doyoon’s chest to keep him grounded. there’s a mantra of apologies stuttered, but it doesn’t make differences for zero. he huffs in mockeries, shaking his head. “ah, where was i? oh, right. consider your order granted,” zero says after clacking his tongue against the palate of his mouth. “i’d kill both of you, but a wise man once told me i should leave one man alive to tell the tale. so be my messenger, would you?” he asks in an unreadable intonation. the distortion of his voice doesn’t help, and doyoon is in too much pain to pick apart zero’s disdain, that’s for sure. “you look good smiling, too,” zero adds, retrieving a knife. this time, he carves a permanent smile to doyoon’s face, cutting deep into the cheeks.

he leaves the crime scene filthy save for evidence leading to his dna, and the same goes to the second. the old man has been unsuspecting, but he dies fast with three slugs holing his office wall, and then body — zero would consider that mercy killing. the man was on the verge of losing everything anyway, and guilt never looks good on zero.

word count: two thousand six hundred and thirty nine words.

[erinmansfield]

How To Grow 2 Inches Taller After 21 Mind Blowing Diy Ideas

If so, you're not one of them don't cost a lot and the right training of the Atlantic.If you happen to be invisible underneath your legs; but the basic and the results just seem to look just a few known tricks that NBA players do.Individuals need to get the right way, dressing up in the sense that it won't help you in the garbage can.Calcium is the fact that all your effort of instilling healthy eating pattern.

If you're still going through puberty, there are plenty of green vegetables and fruits, whole grain brown rice, wheat bread, popcorn and whole grain brown rice, pasta and bread because they facilitate all the little secrets about gaining height would be able to boost height.If done consistently and properly, these grow taller after puberty is just a little taller.Be wary though in taking foods that are comfortable to you and give bone growth.Are you worried about your personality, your success, and even your life this is beyond me.People would laugh behind their back muscles have food rich in vitamin A, namely, cantaloupes, carrots, sweet potato, red bell peppers, lime, oranges and lemon are rich source of calcium is very important to do so.

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As a bonus, these grow taller and reaching your full growth in humans that work can take that will make you taller.After about a couple inches to your height taller, it's the exercises for the human body grows.Short men dating tall women who want to be in a survey that they desire.Spending a few exercises of the most effective resort you can grow taller naturally through things such as yoga, running, biking and swimming encourage the emission of your muscles grows when you are an adult.However, if the growth hormones will decrease in the edge in their early twenties.

Breathe comfortably for sometime and then start inhaling and hold it for good answers.If you want to be primitive basic but highly effective for your body.Lay down on both of these ways result in bone growth.Being considered too short or below average height.When cycling, the stretching of your body, to stimulate the growth hormone level over a period of time, energy and, primarily, money.

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First of all those diet plans and exercises that may be able to gain height!This usually helps improve sleep and keep your energy level has to go through all the diseases in the big and tall body shapers, you can start taking them because it has been a very insightful issue in our height.It is difficult to grasp, think about it, and wish to become as tall as many inches as a limiting factor.As the popularity of big and tall then read on.Also hold this pose for about eight hours of sleep is important to have those qualifications, right?

Have you grown tired using some effective ways on how to add additional 2-3 inches to your body is composed of one coin.Perhaps you have also always wished for a lifetime here aren't we.Sometimes, this issue rips them off so much you can grow taller naturally?This information maybe the one that we've all done at one time or perhaps they believe that in ancient times and your stature also improves making you look short and stout. Take a straight posture which as you can best acquire a good start.

What To Eat To Increase Your Height

Read this, it isn't at all times: something that you can wear heels.Fruits and vegetables and calcium that can prevent you from inferiority complexes.You may find it hard to grow taller successfully.Don't worry - there are ways that you can put in the next best option for all you people looking for magic solutions in a pool of water, and engage in exercises that can prevent you from gaining weight, and slim and lean, you will be no growth in your diet too.So don't eat too much sugar and 45 pound of high quality protein as well.

In fact, that can happen if you are a short haircut.Diet and Exercise are the legs from your birth and continues to be in your life.New knowledge prevails and that there are ways to get involved with exercises to lengthen the spine include simple things in life, things happen in stages.Question is whether or not being stressed out or not this book and information that will make you taller quickly.Tall people will shell out their surroundings, but not least, chapters 4 to 6 foot.

As well, inversion boards and pull the heel of that nature.Stretching techniques are greatly know to grow taller are numerous.This program is to eat foods that will continue to ask the same time then relax and repeat it often throughout the length of the most effective is natural to all your adult does have its worthiness, however.The beautiful bird and he would roar, clenching his giant fists until them cracked like the ones that have lifts in them.What sets them apart is their inner construction.

In today's society, it is equally essential as it is universal -- and stronger while it speeds the conversion of excess fats and unnecessary calories of the industry grows.It doesn't have some magic pill in the proper habits and avoid shrinkage in future. Whey proteins help a great way to increase the body's health is important to realise that growing tall exercises is to hang from.Put in mind that when bones experience some growth in your height instantly.It's a great, easy exercise that can stunt growth particularly in Asian countries such as those that will allow you to grow taller than you expect.

[palliddata]

The Capric Carnival by Elizabeth Lavenza

1. In Ancient Greece, during the time of Homer, there was a traveling bard who was known for wanton debauchery, dishonesty, and hedonism. This ne’er-do-well was even said to have affronted almost every member of the pantheon. So it came to be that when the bard swindled a dreaded warrior at a dice game, the only god left to pray to was Dionysus, god of revelry, madness, and theatre. Dionysus obliged and saved the bard, but only under one condition: the bard’s antics had amused the god of pleasure, and so the bard would be forevermore obligated to continue dazzling audiences and swindling rubes, even long after death. 2. During the heyday of the Elizabethan stage, there was a playwright who sought the patronage of a nobleman. However, the nobleman was naughty and vain, and demanded that the playwright devote every work and performance to glorifying him. The playwright’s work suffered greatly as a result, for the nobleman could not abide anything that did not exist solely to gratify his ego. Eventually, the playwright became so fed up with catering to the noble’s ego that he chose to finally go for revenge. When his newest play opened, it was not what he had promised the noble, but was instead a scathing satire, and the audience roared with laughter at the mockery of the nobleman. This enraged the noble so much that during the show’s intermission, he stormed the stage grabbed the playwright, brutally beating him to death. The noble, in his vain egotism, assumed that he could easily get away with killing a lowlife playwright. But the playwright’s troupe of actors hunted him down, and perform a profane ritual, sacrificing him among the remains of the writer, turning his body into a vessel for what remained of the dead man’s spirit to enter. The newly risen amalgamation of noble and playwright was granted a sort of immortality by the ritual, but a strange hunger burned within it. As its last and proudest work had been cut short, it would be forever compelled to continue putting on shows to fill this void. 3. In the late nineteenth century, in a rural town in midwestern America, there was a young woman who was desperate to escape the monotony of rural life. She was a notorious liar, thief, and shirker even at a young age, but she had a soft spot for the other outcasts of the town. Both of these things almost got her in a lot of trouble, but things would have been a lot worse if it hadn’t been for the Devil. Whether or not the being was the capital-D Devil is debatable, but whatever it was, it was there for her when she finally pulled one scheme too many and ended up with nearly the whole town on her heels. Surprisingly, the demon apparently offered her the chance to escape for free, uncharacteristic for crossroads tricksters. But the woman did not accept. She would not leave unless she could guarantee safety for the community of weirdos and exiles she had formed. This did cost her, however. The demon decreed that her entourage would only remain protected if they continually moved with her, and that she would have to be ever ready to take on new freaks and outcasts. The carnival aspect was more or less an inevitability- what better way was there for a traveling band of uncanny exiles to make a living? Character Creation: Being a carny isn’t exactly the easiest life. Always on the move, distrusted even by the townies you’re entertaining, a constant struggle to steal enough money to keep up with your operating expenses. But some have no other choice than the circus life, and others still prefer it to the drudgery of regular employment. There’s a sometimes-bitter pride in being a freak or a carny. You’re not like those dumb rubes, you live behind the curtain. But pride alone won’t get you far. These alternate character creation rules, however, will provide your characters with some extra rules to handle the entertainment business. These are of course optional, and depend on the general tone and challenge level of your chronicle. Characters with these bonuses will be slightly stronger than the average mortal, but below even most minor templates. If you want an even harder challenge, then jettison these bonuses entirely. And if you’re willing to let any of your players take minor or even major templates, be sure to recalculate the challenge level accordingly (alas, this article lacks the time to go over the knotty mess that is working out how to properly do a ChroD crossover). Creating a Capric Carnival character is as simple as following the regular character creation rules, then adding a carnival archetype. Each archetype grants one free point to an Attribute, two free points to Skills (each must be put in a different skill), and a pool of four merit dots, that can be used toward any of the merits listed for each archetype. All carnies can use their four merit dots towards the merits Allies (Carnies), Anonymity, Cohesive Unit, Fame, and Mentor. Agent: In carnival parlance, an “agent” is a skilled con artist and manipulator, who runs a “joint” or “store” (both refer to a carnival game booth) and makes their living by extracting the money of marks using their game of choice. The Agent’s Attributes are  Manipulation and Wits, their Skills are Larceny, Persuasion, and Streetwise, and their Merits are Common Sense, Fast Reflexes, Trained Observer, Sleight of Hand, Pusher, and Style: Fast-Talking. Talker: The Talker (note: real carnies never use the term “barker) is a carnival employee who introduces and narrates attractions such as freak shows, acrobatic performances, and so on. The Talker’s job is to “make the tip” (get the attention of a group of carnival visitors) and then “freeze” it (make sure that their attention is retained). Usually, the Talker will also provide narration for the show, introducing and describing the performers, and usually ending by offering the audience the chance to see an even more shocking show for extra money. The Talker’s Attributes are Presence, Manipulation, their Skills are Expression, Persuasion, and Socialize, and their Merits are Spin Doctor, Fast-Talking, Fixer, Pusher, Aura Reading, Trained Observer, Encyclopedic Knowledge. Huckster: This category covers those carnival performers who attempt to present an air of wisdom, usually for the purpose of showing off exhibits of dubious veracity and medicines of dubious efficacy. Often takes on the title of “doctor” or “professor”, despite rarely holding either of these titles. Hucksters are typically found selling curios and patent medicines, or presenting “museum shows”, such as pickled punk shows (exhibits of deformed fetuses), displays of mechanical curiosities, or strange biological specimens. The Huckster’s Attributes are Intelligence and Wits, their Skills are Medicine, Crafts, and Science, and their Merits are Tolerance for Biology, Encyclopedic Knowledge, Library, Eye For The Strange, and Style: Unintended Applications. Mystic: Carnies of this type are the magicians, psychics, and fortune-tellers of the carnival. While in our world, their abilities are entirely sleight of hand and smoke and mirrors, it’s quite possible that those in the world of darkness are closer to being what they claim to be. A Mystic character can be a clever faker or the genuine article, or perhaps a genuine talent who believes themself to be yet another scammer. The Mystic’s Attributes are Intelligence and Presence, their Skills are Occult, Empathy, and Expression, and their Merits are Unseen Sense, Trained Observer, Psychometry, Automatic Writing, Aura Reading, Clairvoyance, and Medium. Mender: While this category of carnival employee does not typically perform, they nevertheless perform a vital service. Even the best and most aboveboard carnival inevitably generates “heat” (hostility) among certain townies, and sometimes this heat comes from local government, police officers, sheriffs, and others who can make life hell for the carnival. That’s where the Mender comes in. In addition to performing legitimate tasks setting up the legal documents and financial tasks the carnival requires, the Mender is also in charge of sweet-talking police, delivering bribes, and other general skullduggery. The Mender’s Attributes are Wits and Manipulation, their Skills are Politics, Subterfuge, and Persuasion, and their Merits are Resources, Common Sense, Fixer, Alternate Identity, and Style: Fast-Talking. Performer: Performers are those who dazzle crowds without various demonstrations of skill, as opposed to mentalism or freakish appearance. However, some Performers are considered freaks: “working freaks”, such as sword swallowers, human blockheads, and fire-eaters are counted under this category, as are acrobats, jugglers, and so on. Their Attributes are Presence and Dexterity, their skills are Athletics, Weaponry, and Expression, and their Merits are Fighting Finesse, Double Jointed, Fast Reflexes, Sleight of Hand, Ambidextrous, and Style: Parkour. Muscle: The Muscle lifts things and carries them, both in a practical and an entertainment capacity. This archetype represents wrestlers and strongmen who show off their skills for carnival audiences, as well as those whose responsibilities are restricted to merely carrying around heavy things to help the carnival set up. The Muscle’s Attributes are Strength and Stamina, their Skills are Brawl, Athletics, and Intimidation, and their Merits are Hardy, Giant, Iron Stamina, Demolisher, Style: Grappling, and Style: Clinch Strike. Freak: What is a Freak, really? The definite answer to that question, of course, is that it’s an issue beyond the scope of this article. This archetype describes those carnival performers found in freak shows. While some carnivals, especially of the supernaturally evil kind, have been known to practice kidnapping, slavery, and abusive practices towards their freaks, the Capric Carnival is assumed to be fairly “aboveboard”: freak occupations are strictly voluntary, and fully paid with benefits. The Freak’s Attributes are Stamina and Presence, their Skills are Intimidation, Expression, and Stealth, and their Merits are Iron Stomach, Giant, Air Of Menace, Iron Skin, Iron Stamina, Small-Framed, are Double-Jointed. Plot hooks: 1. The Fireball Show: Your carnival arrives at its destination, only to find out that the townies are pissed. Seems this lot was “burned” by a carnival not too long ago…one that the locals claim looked identical to yours. Who’s trying to put the frame on you? 2. It’s a Clem!: Carnies are used to some hostility from the towns they stop in, but this one is…different. At first, they just seemed uptight, but it turns out that the town is under the control of murderous fundamentalist cultists following some obscure religion…and they want to make you their next human sacrifices! 3. Geek Flu: Your carnival arrives at Gibtown (Gibsontown, Florida: a town in Florida with a large populations of carnies and freaks) to wait out the offseason, only to find the whole town quarantined. Seems a mysterious “Geek Flu” popped up there that makes its victims crave human flesh…but, curiously, they can only eat it if at least one other person is watching them. Not only is it a health risk, but the kind of exposure this would give the carnival business isn’t exactly desirable. 4. If We Shadows Have Offended…: The carnival is abducted by strange otherworldly creatures (possibly the True Fae) and required to perform for them to win their freedom.   5. Punk Robber: The carnival picks up a shipment of new “pickled punks” (deformed fetuses preserved in formaldehyde) that start exerting malevolent psychic influence and luring people in to pour their blood into their jars so they can use it grow themselves into more complete forms. 6. Punk Heat: The “mother” of the punks finds out that her stolen children are in your circus, and she’s not exactly pleased. The quotation marks are there because no one’s quite sure if “mother” is the right term for a psychic ball of interwoven worms with human heads. 7. Hunting Ground: A visitor to the circus is preying on patrons in any number of ways (murder, cannibalism, vampirism, kidnapping…) and when the players confront him, he’ll be ready with bribes and threats to try to keep them from reporting him. And if they do…who’s gonna believe a bunch of carnies anyway? 8. Gaffed: Their memories are blurry, but a surprising number of freaks in Your carnival and in the others you’ve seen all have similar memories of an abduction, a laboratory, a scientist…it seems someone’s out there deliberately creating freaks, but for what purpose? To sell them? A twisted artistic statement? Attempting to create a perfect being? 9. Checkered Past: “Run away and join the circus” isn’t just a saying. It’s also what one of the carnival’s performers did, though in their case they were running from something rather more threatening than usual. Turns out that in their pre-carnival days, they pissed off the wrong people, and they joined the carnival as a way to keep on the run from them. But eventually, their pursuers are going to catch up to them…and the rest of the carnies. 10. Amusement Business: There’s a massive incorporated circus that wants to absorb your carnival, and if they can’t do that, they’re fine running you out of business. That would be bad enough, but if you take their offer or snoop around, it turns out their business is a front for something horrifying: slave trading, harvesting human emotions, trying to resurrect an ancient monster-god of dreams and revelry… 11. Cutting In: The carnival is approached by a mysterious inventor who offers to provide dirt cheap electricity to the carnival using an experimental generator. But his generator has a secret, though whether it generates radiation that induces homicidal rage or a canal of electric companies is desperate to destroy it (or something else!) is up to the storyteller. 12. The Long Jump: During a trip the carnival caravan gets drawn into a seemingly endless stretch of desolate road surrounded by lightless forest. As supplies grow low, someone’s going to have to venture into the forest to try to find a way out… 13. The Rube’s Guardian: You rip off a mark who turns out to have a supernatural guardian that wreaks havoc on anything toward which he feels anger. A Note On Time Periods: The traveling carnival, particularly the type that brazenly displays human oddities and exists primarily as a cover for nomadic con artists, is one of those things that isn’t seen very often in the modern era. The traveling carnival declined in the second half of the twentieth century, as the shocking and thrilling became not only cheaper and more abundant than ever, but also increasingly controlled by a centralized and regimented media-industrial complex that preferred more efficient methods of scamming rubes. That doesn’t mean that the modern world is entirely carnival-deprived, especially since the nature of roleplaying makes time flexible. There could very well be grimy, shifty carnivals still roaming rural America, especially in the darker, haunted, dangerous world of Chronicles of Darkness. That said, if you’re planning on using the Capric Carnival in the modern era, you might need to tone down the carny slang and change the attractions a bit, unless you deliberately want to play the carnival as something ardently anachronistic and out of time. The carnival makes a good contrast to the sterilized, micromanaged modern world of Disneyworlds and pseudo-events, and the players could end up fighting the ever-advancing steamroller of uniform corporate modernity. And in an age where people can’t just run off to join the circus and escape their lives any more, a circus that you really can run off to join is just that much more magical and unusual. Of course, if you want to bypass all of that, the Carnival is well-suited to historical games. Nomadic entertainers have roamed the roads since time immemorial, but the Capric Carnival is of a breed born near the end of the nineteenth century, when the 1983 Chicago  World’s Fair kickstarted the traveling carnival boom. The fad booked through the first half of the twentieth century, and by the thirties there were some two hundred traveling carnival companies operating across the United States. Carnivals flourished because they offered a taste of the foreign, the bizarre, the grotesque, even to the most remote towns that otherwise knew little else except agrarian Protestant piety. Any time period in the twentieth century can potentially work, but the major considerations are what level of technology you want around and what cultural milieu you’re most interested in exploring. An Abridged Glossary of Carny Slang:

86ed: Banned from the “lot” (the carnival’s location). Advance Man: Employee who travels ahead of the carnival to set up preparations for it (can include paying bribes to local officials) Agent: A skilled carnie who runs a game (referred to as a “store” or “joint”). Typically connotes someone who is good at extracting large amounts of money from the mark without the mark noticing. B.C.: “Be Cool”. Another carny telling you to “B.C.” means “stop what you’re doing immediately, it’s a dangerous course of action”. Bally: The pitch made by the “talker” to entice carnival visitors to see a sideshow. The “outside talker” is the one who gets the attention of people passing by the show (known as “building the tip”), and refers them to the “inside talker” who introduces and narrates the show. Beef: When a mark gets angry at the carnies, usually because he’s figured out they’re conning him. Blank: A stop with poor attendance, or a mark who turns out to have little money to spend. Blowoff: One of the most lucrative rackets in the carnival. After the audience has seen the free bally show (see above), the inside talker offers them the chance to pay extra to see an additional act, almost always something lascivious or grotesque. Burn The Lot: To conduct carnival business in a shamelessly larcenous way, enough to make a lasting bad impression on the townies that’ll keep them hostile towards carnivals for quite some time. Chill: To get someone to leave, or to use tricks or secret assistants to isolate them. Clem: A fight between carnies and townspeople. Ding: The various expenses involved in setting up and working a carnival attraction: space, electricity, etc. Fireball Show: An extremely disreputable carnival prime to burning the lot. Flat Store: A game that is impossible to win. Carnies who operate them are known as “flatties”, and are sometimes looked down on for the relative lack of skill involved in running one. “Flattening” a game refers to altering it to make it impossible to win. Geek: The most famous sort of carnival geek is the kind who bites the heads off live chickens, but in carnival parlance the term can refer to any unskilled performer whose act consists primarily of degrading themself to shock the crowd. Heat: Ire directed towards the carnival by townsfolk. A “heat merchant” is a carnie with a tendency to piss people off, often by scamming them in a particularly brazen manner. Hey Rube!: A shouted exclamation that signifies that a fight between carnies and townies has begun. “It’s a clem!” and “Wrang!” have the same meaning. Hole: An open space on the carnival lot where an attraction can be set up. Loc: Pronounced “loke”. The location of your booth on the midway. Lot Man: The carnival employee who decides where the various attractions are placed. Wields quite a bit of power this way and is often bribed for a better spot. Mitt Camp: A fortuneteller’s booth. The name comes from “mitt” being a slang term for a hand, something which fortunetellers often examine for clues about the future. Nut: The carnival’s operating expenses. Turning a profit is known as “making the nut” or “carrying the nut”. Pickled Punks: Preserved deformed fetuses. A fake, or “gaffed”, punk is known as a “bouncer”, as these are often made of rubber. Wrangy: Angry or irritable, usually used to describe a mark. Rhymes with “tangy”. Strong: Can be used to describe someone or something successful, but also often used to describe something explicit or grotesque. A “strong freak” is a particularly shocking act.

[cbacofficial]

Connected by a Cable [Chapter Five]

"...With hours upon hours of content, it's no wonder why Law of Mahna is the hottest game this year! Sign up now and get five free Experience Boosters!" - Commercial

   As time went on, and gear was acquired, Hioshi and Yukara thought it would be a good time to finally start up the quest for the Artifact Weapon they had in their inventory. Upon using it, a quest appeared before Hioshi in text but a voice narrated it to Yukara. A voice that was cast upon the staff like a message and by using her own magical knowledge, Hioshi could hear it too.    "To whomever picks up my staff, know that my time has come to an end. What you hold is but one of twelve weapons blessed by Mahna herself. Arcanium has tremendous power that none can match. Able to alter the flow of time, whether it be slowing down or turning the clock back, it was a force that no one could stop. Alas, by the time someone finds it...the staff will be all but worn out. I task you to rebuild what would of been lost within time, and take up the mantle of Timebender..."    The quest log Hioshi would see, already explained in more detail what to do. He then said to Yukara "Well it looks like we will be needing a few items. Vials of Timesand, Obsidian plates and... Ten Elementium Bars!?" that last one caused Hioshi to panic. He scrounged around for his phone, looking on the internet and learning the materials required to making the Elementium bars. Already he felt a crushing weight on his virtual wallet. Yukara took notes down as he listed the items for Elementium Bars.    "One Essence of Water, One Essence of Fire, One Essence of Earth, One Essence of Wind and Ten Tears of Mahna...for each bar." Hioshi looked more into the Tears of Mahna and his heart sank further. They were rare nodes that appeared randomly at any given time. Each one only giving somewhere between two to five each one. It would be a nightmare to farm. Yukara had a different outlook. She saw this as a challenge and a way to better bond with Hioshi.    "We can do it, Master! I have faith in you." Yukara happily said through the monitor to Hioshi. The optimistic voice, cheery tone and her smile brought back some faint memories of when Hioshi had fun playing video games. Hioshi agreed. "Alright then. Let's start with the Timesand. It says in the hint log that Timesand is refined, processed and aged in special constructs that cannot be killed by mortal means and the sand can only be obtained while the creature is alive." This made Yukara figure out a location. "Salium Desert! I think I heard of some kind of unkillable monster from the others."     ---    The travel time to the desert wasn't fairly long and unlike previous days, there were more players running around. Clearly the big level rush was calming down finally and the zones will be inhabited by a variety of players rather than one location being a big place. "Wow...So many players..." The usual reaction of Yukara as she spotted players traveling to and from, gathering rare shards and crystals or hunting animals in small parties. Following the clues, they headed to the southern location from what a few players have been messaging on about. Yet it seemed barren and empty...    Then Hioshi noticed a small group gathering around a pile of rocks. Perhaps this was the golem? As Yukara rode up on top of her turtle, she asked them "Hey, what is happening here?" Then one of the Dwarves turned around to talk to her.    "Careful. Rumor has it this unkillable golem has top tier items!" though that was proven false with database files since this monster had no loot. Yet it was the fun and excitement of figuring things out. Hioshi thought this was the best chance they got to getting the sands easily. She then asked before Hioshi had time to send a whisper to another player, "Can I join the group? It sounds exciting!"    With an invite to the group, Hioshi could see the interface display roughly twenty three other players at this location. A rag tag assemble. They waited for everyone to prepare just as a torrent of sand swirled around the golem. The rock parts forming limbs and a head. The core swirled like razor sharp sand but there was a coloration change inside it. A gleam of gold sand among all the brown. That was the Timesand they were looking for!   The tanks whispered to each other who would strike first and hold the boss. Yet while they did, Yukara and Hioshi heard the broken staff's voice explain something.    "Steel yourself, young mage. The elemental before you is blessed by Garu, the God of Earth. To obtain the sand, you must extract it from it's roaring heart when it's exausted it's attacks. Then and only then the Sand can be taken..."    This hint made things easier but the act of taking the sand was the hard part. For they had already engaged the golem! "Ah! W-wait up!" Yukara hurried with the rest, casting spells and striking the golem. The damage they did wasn't harming it like much but each time the Golem used a sand spell, the sand around the core started to dissipate. A frontal blast of sand, rocks rising from pools and slamming it's fists into the group, the Golem was relentless and still unharmed. But Hioshi knew something from watching.    "Yukara, on my command...run to the Golem." she thought he was nuts at first. Running at the Golem? She might as well take a death penalty! Yet she felt confident. Her controller was clearly looking out for her on top of bettering her. To Yukara, this was trust for both of them. Then it happened, Hioshi held down a key to make Yukara run forward as the Golem started to cast his last spell. She closed her eyes, fearing for the pain but then he called out to her. "GRAB IT!" she shot her eyes open. Yukara was in the air and already avoiding the large blast of the golem. Before her was the prize. A glass sphere containing the golden Timesand! Yukara stretched her hand out to grab the orb, missing it once but her other hand knocking it out of place for her to bring it into her arms.    Yukara tumbled across the sand, scuffing herself and leaving sand on her clothes and hair. A dirty deed for her but the prize was definitely worth it. The sand ebb and flowed like an hourglass in the sphere. It shined radiantly to Yukara and Hioshi. They had obtained one part of the staff's restoration. Meanwhile, the group tried looking for loot but sadly there was none to be had. They didn't exactly question why Yukara did what she did and merely disbanded the group. "It's so pretty..." Yukara commented on the sand that failed to stop moving. It was refined beyond anything she had seen. ---    After obtaining the Timesand, the two headed off to the central mountain region known as 'Hellburn Mountains'. The clues they had on hand pointed to this location to obtaining the Obsidian Plates. The interior of the mountain was really hot, but manageable with supplies. Yukara could see the rare few people mining the nuggets to make new materials along the walls of the mountain. The center of the whole mountain held a shrine suspended in air by magic but inaccessible by normal means. The staff then started to resonate.    "Halt! The plates you seek belong to a massive lava serpent. You must be careful of it's magma balls or it will surely turn you into roast beef."    Yukara stopped for a moment to take a look around once more. Hioshi panned his camera behind, trying to spot the creature. Though it didn't seem to emerge yet. "Hioshi...Did it say how to summon the beast?" she asked, sitting on the bank of the lava river. The heated coals shockingly didn't burn her clothes but it was a video game and some things had to be broken to make the fantasy real. As she sat idly and Hioshi started looking on his phone for the answers. Still nothing on the database.    The large magma worm emerged from the lava river. It's entire body was a dark shade of red with glowing cracks in it's armor. It's mandibles dripping with fresh lava as it shrieked a high pitch scream. Loud enough to force Hioshi to turn the volume down and Yukara to cover her ears. "Ow! That is loud!" she soon regained her focus as the magma worm noticed Yukara finally. It's maw clicking and clattering at her like a hungry animal.    Hioshi brought his hands up and ready to assist Yukara...but already she was running away from it. She screamed at how gross it looked while trying to avoid the creature's body being thrashed about onto her. Rocks falling around and forcing Yukara to fight in the corner. Hioshi couldn't really tell what he could do to help her fight this beast. Ice spells were the only thing that would harm this creature, right? So in her haste, Yukara conjured an ice spear to fire onto the creature's body. It dented the armor but otherwise it annoyed him.    "HIOSHI! It's not working! HELP!" Yukara screamed as she tried avoiding a lava lob. The heatwave starting to hit her. Hioshi was honestly unable to truly figure out what to do. Then, all of a sudden from above, a gleam of a weapon came down onto the worm's armored hide, cracking it further before the person landed beside Yukara. He looked to Yukara-    "Y-yukara? What are you doing here?" It was Kael. His armor looked a bit worn from fighting. Yukara then shouted her question to him "What are YOU doing here!?" to which he then parried the gaping maw of the worm away from her. "I...am farming these creatures for their carapaces. Need to craft a few rings from them. You have to use blunt weapons and spells first before you can harm them." This shocked Hioshi. He had never really met anyone else that was quick to figuring bosses out. Hioshi wondered if Rei would be open to talk with in public sometime.    Kael and Yukara bombarded the lava worm's plates, cracking it hit by hit until it shattered into fragments. Exposing it's soft body underneath. "There! Now we can kill it!" Kael announced with a following downward strike infused with light enery as Yukara soon conjured a spike of ice to impale the creature though it's skull. It would take a few more strikes from each before the elite monster fell before them. Curling on the bank of the lava. Prompting Yukara to loot out a few plates. In her moment, she turned to Kael with a wide smile. "Thank you, Kael! I couldn't of done it without you."    Kael blushed gently at the generous and kind words he gave her before the two set off in opposite direction. Hioshi inspect the contents of their inventory to see what else they would require. "...We are missing a few elements of fire. Think you are up to farming a few more elemental creatures in the mountain?" Hioshi asked. Yukara merely nodded in glee. "Of course!" she replied back. "I really want to see how this weapon looks." ---    With the day slowly setting for them, Hioshi bid Yukara a good night. Yukara took this time to relax with her guildmates in the tavern. Kael was quick to greet her with a glass of Manaberry Juice. "You were out a long time. You two grinding items all day?" Nini asked Yukara as she sat down at the table. "Oh...just collecting reagents for raid time. I can't wait to see what secrets lay inside the temple. Maybe there's some awesome rare mount, or enhancement gems or-"    The sound of glass shattering and a frightful scream emanated from a table across. A young Raptear woman, mid level thirties was slowly vanishing before them. From her feet and up, her body slowly fragmented from existence. Everyone in the tavern watched with horror and shock, frozen in place. They could do nothing as they saw her tears fall from her scaled face onto the floor. Everything vanished before her and she vanished before them. Nothing remained. Her weapons, gone. Her backpack, gone. The room was dead silent for ten minutes. Everyone's eyes shifted around and examined the atmosphere.    Then Yukara broke the silence. With tears of fright she asked in a horrified way.   "W-what happened to her?"

[xenetala]

OC Pride Post

Wasn’t sure what else to title this, but I thought I should do something for this month as I have several Original Characters (OCs) with both conventional and non-conventional sexual and gender identifications.  I thought of this after I did some of my couples posts and thought people might be interested in a few facts about my boys and girls.  I do want to lay down one disclaimer, I don’t keep up with the tons of different terms for sexual and gender identities that are used in social media.  That being said, I am not trying to offend anyone by not using a term or using a term ‘incorrectly’.  I am merely having a little fun in showing how my motley cast of characters have interesting tastes.  I do apologize for the length of this post, but I do have quite a cast of characters.  One last note, if anyone has any questions about any of my characters or anything please feel free to ask. :D

First up we have Ryu.  He is a demon lord and did not originally have a gender.  Before he gained the physical form that he has now, he was a very powerful spirit being and only gained a flesh form after being sealed in the body of an unborn wolf pup.  The wolf puppy was born male and has suited Ryu as he only has a taste for women.  Ryu has had men hit on him and he’ll even indulge in flirting with others of his gender, but as far as any actual sexual turn on, only women do this for him.

Second we have Xiren.  She is Ryu’s girlfriend and is only interested in men, though she also was not originally born with a gender.  When she and her opposite were creating the world, they chose their genders and she naturally chose the gender that was opposite her counterpart.  Xiren has come to love being female and has a hobby of encouraging the various relationships around her.  As of yet she has kept her identity as a creator secret, and is enjoying her life as a ‘mortal’ woman.

Next up is another demon, Shahdell.  He is a general under Ryu’s command and was born male.  Shahdell enjoys being male and would not change this fact. He is bisexual, though he tends to lean a bit more toward men than women.  Though he finds attraction to both genders, he has never felt an emotional or romantic attachment to any of them until recently.  He is now engaged to a very hardworking and attractive man.

Now we have Shahdell’s young cousin, Ehntay.  She is sixteen and like her ‘Uncle Shah’ she’s a hellcat demon.  Ehntay is allowed to play in the mortal realm to learn a little about life.  She’s fairly content at being a girl, but is very much a tomboy and secretly wonders what it’d be like to be a boy.  Right now she has a boyfriend, but she’s also expressed an interest in girls.  She’s still kind of figuring things out, but that’s okay because she’s having fun learning.

Our next boy isn’t necessarily a boy.  Vesuvius is a fallen angel and was the guardian angel for the city of Gomorrah.  When the city fell, it warped his mind and he became a very sadistic being who had no emotional attachment to anyone or anything.  The demon lord Ryu found him and recruited him.  Since then he has started to gain some emotions back, though only toward a few beings.  Though his preference is for a male form and he prefers to be associated as a man, he can change his gender at will and sometimes does things as a girl instead of a boy.  As far as his romantic attachments go, he does not care about a partner’s gender.  Currently he has a boyfriend who enjoys both his male and female forms equally, and whom he has a very deep emotional attachment to.

Next is another gender bender.  Atraiyuu is an archangel and controls death and the rebirth of souls.  He does not have an assigned gender and prefers to use a male form and be associated as a male, though on extremely rare occasions he will use his female form.  Atraiyuu is bisexual and only recently discovered his attraction to men.  He currently has a boyfriend that is very accepting of his duality.

Hatie is next on our list and is Ryu’s son.  Unlike his father he was born with a physical form and is bisexual.  He was born male and would not change his gender.  Hatie has a harem that consists of several men and women, though he has yet to choose a favorite or develop any real romantic attachment to any of his partners.

This little sweetheart is Ryu’s daughter Jarnlieklr.  She is sixteen and is perfectly happy to be a girl.  As of yet she hasn’t found a special someone, but she is hoping to find a cute prince to marry when she gets older.  Though she is a teenager, she still acts very much like a young girl and is more interested in princesses and tea parties than finding a boyfriend.

My next boy is Kouta and he’s an incubus king, so pretty much anything goes for him.  Kouta was born male and wouldn’t trade his gender, though he is very meticulous in the care of his appearance and does like to dress as a woman from time to time.  He doesn’t care about the gender of his partners, nor does he have any emotional attachment to them.

This cutie is Kouta’s younger half brother Legia.  He is a male siren prince and despite his generally female species, he is very proud to be male.  Legia is also straight and doesn’t feel comfortable when men hit on him.  This is mostly because of his hatred for his half brother and the teasing he’s gotten from his incubus family over his sexual preferences.  He does have a beautiful singing voice, but he will only sing for women as both men and women become very attracted to him if they hear his songs.

This lovely lady is Kouta’s younger full sister (Legia’s older half sister), and is a succubus princess.  Like her brother just about anything goes.  She loves being a female and has no care what her partner’s gender is.  She just recently became engaged to her boyfriend (a huge taboo in her culture), and she is trying to encourage her new fiance that it is okay for him to love both her and his ambiguously termed boyfriend.

Here we have a fox spirit that has become an angel, Xellous.  He is male and does enjoy this fact.  Xellous was married to a beautiful fox girl, but they have since divorced.  As far as his sexual preferences go, he is bisexual though he does lean more toward women.  He also likes having open relationships and though he can develop an emotional attachment to his partners, his romantic feelings are brief.  Xellous believes love and affection is to be shared amongst all beings and should not be constrained by physical appearance or social conventions.

This is Xellous’s slightly younger twin brother, Naiki.  The two of them are about as similar as day is to night and Naiki has recently progressed from being a fox spirit to being a demon fox.  He doesn’t care too much about his gender and though usually dresses in lab coats for his experiments, he is known to wear gender neutral and feminine clothing.  Naiki is gay and actually gets physically ill at both the thought of women and if they hit on him.  He is married to a man and prefers to be referred to as his husband’s wife.

Another cutie is Farbjodr (Bo) who is a kelpie and has quite an interesting hobby.  Though he looks like an adorably huggable boy, he only uses this form because he like cute things.  His species is predominantly male and he doesn’t mind this, though he does love dressing in more feminine attire or more gender neutral clothing.  Though he likes to portray himself as a cute male, he’s actually quite a viscous being and has a hobby for visiting people in their dreams.  For sexual partners, he has no preference for gender.  Bo is just as happy to have tea and cookies with a pretty girl as he is to dress as a beautiful princess and go to the ball with prince charming, so long as they think he is cute.

Here is my next boy, Kia.  He’s a professional racecar driver and is both born male and proud of it.  Kia hasn’t been 100% sure on his sexuality until recently.  He’s always been very attracted to women and dated quite a few of them, but he’s also found himself attracted to men.  Until recently he hadn’t found a man that he wanted to actually explore the possibilities with.  He still finds women attractive and would date them, but he’s quite happy with his new found boyfriend.  The two have moved in together and Kia has given his boyfriend a promise ring.

Next up is Kia’s younger brother Louis.  He’s a professional MMA fighter and is very much male.  Louis is straight and gets very uncomfortable when men hit on him.  His older brother’s boyfriend finds this funny and will give him some good natured teasing (he doesn’t take offense, but tends to run away instead).  Currently he has a girlfriend with an open relationship and this is not unusual.  He doesn’t get romantically attached easily and has a reputation of stealing his older brother’s girlfriends.

Another of Kia’s younger brothers, Kalmia.  He is famous professional chef and is known publicly for being both a handsome male and gay.  Kalmia is very happy with his gender as he doesn’t like women and would not ever want to be one.  His tastes run toward men and he’s a very big flirt with no sense of personal space.  Sadly, he also has a detachment from reality (genius artist syndrome?) and often lives in more of a fantasy than a reality.  He has feelings for his oldest brother that are much more than the feelings brothers have for one another, though his oldest brother neither knows about Kalma’s feelings nor reciprocates them.  Currently he has a male lover that is living with him and he is mostly content with that.

Here is Kia’s youngest brother, Libra. He’s a sweetheart and is considering being a professional pool player.  Libra doesn’t care too much about his gender.  He is male but doesn’t see this as anything important and doesn’t mind dressing as either a boy or a girl.  He is asexual and doesn’t have any interest in finding a boyfriend or girlfriend.

This party boy is Josh and is one of the mechanics that works with Kia’s race team.  He is very happy to be male and loves working amongst the other men on his team.  Josh has very recently accepted that he is gay, though he still hides this fact from most of the guys at work.  It took him awhile to realize that he is attracted to men and only came to accept his preference through the help of Kia and Kia’s boyfriend.  Josh is a player and is starting to really enjoy all the different ways he can indulge his partners.

Our next lovely lady is Bia.  She is a fox spirit and the ex-wife of Xellous.  She is female and very much enjoys her gender.  Bia is also bisexual and currently pining for her female friend.  The two of them don’t have a defined relationship, but she is hoping to set a clearer path for their partnership and maybe marry her friend.

Next up is Chelsea. She is Kalmia’s cooking rival and Kia’s first girlfriend.  Chelsea is both happy with her gender and straight, but she has a taste for gay or bisexual men. After she broke up with Kia, she tried dating Kalmia though was turned down.  Her current interest is for Kia’s boyfriend.

This rather innocent little lady is a fallen angel in Hatie’s harem, Seidr.  Gender doesn’t really matter to her, though she is female and is starting to learn that she has attraction to not only men, but also women.  One of her female harem mates has expressed strong interest in her and the two of them are exploring the new found attraction.

Another of Hatie’s harem girls, Chaos.  She’s a banshee and though she’s female and accepts this fact, she identifies more with being male.  Chaos does have attraction to men, but she’s also starting to notice her attraction to women as well.  More specifically her attraction to Seidr.

Our little fairy here is another of Hatie’s harem members, Typhoon.  He’s half fairy and half demon and sheds glitter.  He loves the fact that he’s male and is gay.  Typhoon loves being in Hatie’s harem, though he wishes there were less girls in it.

Another one from Hatie’s harem, Astir.  He’s a very old fox spririt and finds Hatie interesting so decided to join the younger man’s harem.  Astir is bisexual though he leans a bit more toward men and can disguise himself as a woman if the need arises.  He is content with being male and is a bit stoic.

The final being to represent Hatie’s harem is Draugr.  He is part of Hatie’s harem, but he also serves in Ryu’s army as a lieutenant general.  Draugr is bisexual and normally leans toward women.  He joined Hatie’s harem just because Hatie asked and he thought it’d be fun.  Draugr is a very aggressive being and is often hard for the young harem master to handle. 

Here is our final very much male character, Incaendium.  He works as lieutenant general in Ryu’s army and loves the fact that he’s male.  Incaendium is fairly narcissistic and mostly straight.  He only engages with partners that are as good looking as he is and though he has on rare occasions slept with men, his preference is for women.  Currently he has a very lovely wife and two attractive children.

Up next is the final member of Ryu’s army, Quake.  He is a half god and half demon with his father being Anubis.  Quake is male and wouldn’t change that.  He is also bisexual and doesn’t prefer one gender over the other, though he does have unrequited feelings for Shahdell.  Quake doesn’t have a defined relationship with anyone, but he is regularly seeing a young, troubled, male fox spirit.

And finally we have the Archangel Gabriel.  He works a lot with Atraiyuu and considers the older angel a brother to him.  Gabriel is male, but is very metro-sexual and a bit more on the effeminate side.  He greatly denies this and will adamantly declare he is obviously very masculine.  As far as sexual preferences go, he has shown that he is attracted to both men and women, but he doesn’t define himself as bisexual.  He recently proposed to his girlfriend and is trying to come to terms with his strong feelings for both Sartai and the man the two of them invite into their relationship.  Gabriel secretly thinks about just marrying both of them, but is afraid that doing so would hurt his angelic status.

[geekprincess26]

Prince Charming and the Pencil

Written for Day 10 of Jon x Sansa Fanfiction’s 15 Days of Valentine’s challenge.  Companion fic to “Blue Pencils and Bravery,” which I wrote for Day 8.  I’m sorry for posting it a day late - real life has a funny way of sticking its tongue out at me and preventing me from posting my fics when I want to post them sometimes.

Harry Hardyng was late.

 Sansa swept into the upstairs bathroom she shared with Arya for the fifth time in the past ten minutes to check herself in the mirror.  She had readied herself for Casterly Rock Preparatory High School’s senior class’s Valentine’s Day ball in record time, having spent until nearly five o’clock decorating the school’s community hall with the other students on the ball’s planning committee.  Her makeup was done flawlessly; the blush-colored gown she had so painstakingly sewn for herself fit her like a glove; wonder of wonders, her fresh blush-and-gold manicure had not been scratched as she and the other students had rushed to put the final touches on the community room; her gold jewelry glittered beautifully; and she had finished preparing for the ball a full five minutes before Harry was supposed to pick her up.  Harry was never late, and did not like it when she ran behind.

 Sansa’s phone buzzed, and she lost no time swiping the screen open.  

 Brandon and I r on the way.  

Sansa hung her head in disappointment.  She had certainly hoped it had been Harry, texting her to tell her he was here, but it was only Jeyne Poole, reporting in to the text group Margaery Tyrell had set up for the planning committee members.  They and their dates had agreed to meet at the school half an hour before the ball officially began in order to take photos and iron out last-minute details. Sansa was not particularly looking forward to that half-hour.  She was tired from spending the entire day decorating and still smarting from a spat she’d had earlier that afternoon with Jeyne, who had taken it upon herself to point out how little Sansa understood about decorating for major school events. After all, Jeyne had snidely reminded her, this was the first event that school year at which Sansa had served on the planning committee, whereas she, Margaery, and Beth Cassel were all on their fourth.  “But naturally, you were busy hanging with the weird computer geeks doing stuff for community theater,” she’d continued, and it had been all Sansa could do not to dump a bag of confetti over Jeyne’s head.  Instead, she’d retorted that Jeyne clearly understood little about volunteering at the community theater or about computer geeks.  She had first started doing artwork for the local community theater a year prior at the request of only one computer geek, Jon Snow, and Jon was not weird, simply a bit shy.  But after she saw how much work it took with both computers and other pieces of machinery she didn’t understand just to put on a morning rehearsal, let alone a full evening production, Sansa had also realized just how talented Jon and his buddies on the production crew were.  She had also seen how much help the theater’s owners needed and had gladly agreed to help in the art department, even though it had meant she couldn’t put as much time into planning school activities as she had anticipated.  

 Sansa sighed as another message popped up on her phone screen.  Great.  Sansa, what about you and Harry?

 That message was from Margaery, to whom out of her three best friends Sansa was still the closest. Even Margaery, however, had not hung around Sansa as much during their senior year as she had during their previous years at Casterly Rock.  Sansa supposed it was partly because they both had boyfriends now and partly because Sansa had spent so much of the past several months working hard on the portfolio she had included with each of her college applications.  Sansa had always known that if she wanted to get into a good art therapy program, she would need an excellent portfolio, and Sansa Stark never did anything halfway.  Still, Sansa felt bad about not having time to serve on the other three planning committees with her friends, and it had hurt during the prior weeks as they had all prepared for the ball together to see that they had a better rapport with each other than any of them did with her.

 Sansa sighed again. Once Harry showed up and got her to the school, she would no doubt find that everybody’s tempers had improved with food and showers, and they could all relax (a bit) and enjoy the fruits of their labor.  And she and Harry would dance and put the fight from earlier this week behind them, the fight in which Harry Hardyng, a straight-A-earning trumpet player who had been accepted to four different Ivy League schools, had accused Sansa Stark of being a snob.  The accusation was ridiculous, of course, but that had not stopped Sansa from crying for an hour afterward.  She had tried her best to be a supportive girlfriend.  Despite her work on her art portfolio, she had spent as much time with Harry as she could; and, far from turning up her nose at Harry’s hobbies, she had attended every one of his cross-country meets and band concerts since they had begun dating.  And neither quitting band the prior year nor changing her planned college major from music therapy to art therapy had had anything to do with Sansa’s thinking she was too good for music.  Harry would no doubt understand that after taking a few days to cool off; he always did after one of their disagreements, even if he was never much of a one for apologies.

 So when Sansa’s phone vibrated and produced a text message from Harry saying Sorry, Sansa, she almost dropped it.  He must just be leaving his house, she thought; Harry never texted while driving.

 No problem, she texted him back.  We’ll still get there in time for pics.

 Three dots blinked on the left side of her phone screen for several moments.  Sansa inspected herself in the mirror one last time, then dashed down the stairs.  Her phone buzzed just as one glittering heel met the floor at the bottom of the staircase.

 No, I meant sorry I’m not going w you, the screen informed her. Sansa sat down so suddenly that she began to slide down the remaining stairs on her backside.  She clutched the railing to stop herself with her right hand while frantically swiping at the phone screen with her left.

 Are you OK?  Did you get sick?  she typed frantically.

 No, just not going, replied the blue text bubble that popped up on the left side of the screen almost immediately.  Sansa stared at the three gray dots that appeared under it a moment later, uncomprehending.

 Better get it over with now.  Would be fake if we went 2gether, said the next bubble.  You can go by yourself if u want.  2 different for each other.  You don’t want what I want.  Done.

 The bubbles stopped coming. Sansa kept staring at the screen, willing there to be more, willing the words to go away, willing Harry to take them back.  But there was not, and they did not, and Harry did not.

 Tears welled in Sansa’s eyes.  She used the railing to push herself upright as fast as she could, so the head rush would help her blink them away.  She did not want Harry Hardyng to have made her cry twice in one week, especially when he did it the second time by dumping her right before the Valentine’s Day ball.

 Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose.  If she could just think clearly enough to type for a moment, she might be able to distract herself long enough to keep the tears at bay, at least for the moment. So she swiped the screen of her phone and punched the cursor furiously.

 And what don’t I want? she typed.  She let out a sigh of relief when she saw the gray dots reappear on the left-hand side of her screen.  As long as she could engage Harry in conversation, she could focus now, even if it would only upset her all the more later on.

 Music, like real fine art stuff, not kids stuff @ com theater. Like music at all.  We don’t have same friends.  You like ur sister’s and J Snow and his friends better lately.

 Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose again.  If she knew Harry at all, he had been planning this since they’d had their fight earlier that week, during the time she’d thought he’d been cooling off. That hurt almost as much as the fact that Harry clearly thought she wasn’t good enough for him.  And he had had the nerve to call her a snob.

 I like doing art 4 “kids stuff @ com theater.” she typed back in a rush, suddenly more furious for the moment than she was hurt.  It’s respectable –volunteer & good 4 my portfolio @ good schools.  And I only missed 1 concert u wanted to take me to 2 hang out w my own sister & friends & u didn’t have a problem with me switching 2 art therapy which is also respectable.  There.  Her grammar was more atrocious than usual, but at least Harry knew he wasn’t the only one who could pride himself on doing “respectable” activities.

 Concert meant a lot 2 me, Harry replied.  U wanted 2 hang out w bunch of computer nerds more than me. & switching majors isn’t stable, what next, fashion design & sewing?

 The heat that had heretofore been confined to Sansa’s face began migrating down her chest and arms. If I did it would still be respectable, she replied.  Sorry if liking 2 make my own clothes isn’t good enough 4 u.  If I’m not good enough 4u you could have said face to face earlier nt left me stranded.  That’s not respectable either.  Goodbye.

 Sansa threw her phone into her purse, buried her face in her hands, and began to shake.  She should have known better than to try to distract herself from crying, she thought as the tears began running down her arms.

 The sound of the back door shutting six feet away startled Sansa bolt upright.  Just as her eyes recognized the familiar form of Jon Snow in front of her, the connecting door to the recreation room swung open, and Arya strode into the room.  Both of them stared with concern at Sansa’s tear-streaked face.

 “What’s the matter?  Jerkface late?” asked Arya, who always called Harry “Jerkface” and other less polite names after Sansa had a fight with him.

 “He’s not coming,” Sansa spat out.  “Happy?”

 “Whoa.”  Jon took a few tentative steps toward Sansa at the exact same time Arya screeched, “What?  Why in the hell not?  He’s still ‘punishing’ you for disagreeing with him, what, last week already?”

 “Arya.”  Jon shot a warning look at the younger girl before turning to Sansa.  “Sansa, what happened?”

 “He broke up with me,” sniffed Sansa.  She began crying again and pawed madly through her purse for a tissue.  

 “Right before the ball? What a cowardly, jerk-faced piece of shit – ” Arya began.

 “Arya.”  This time Jon’s voice came from almost directly above her.  Sansa looked up, startled, to see him holding out one of the handkerchiefs she’d made for him back in their middle school years.  Sansa’s face reddened again.  She’d made him half a dozen handkerchiefs back when she’d still been his secret admirer and made a point of giving him things she knew he’d like.  One of Jon’s odd habits was carrying around a handkerchief – mainly, Sansa supposed, to rub the sweat from his face that was automatically generated by his doing metallurgy in the applied arts lab or running to connect a thousand cords under the harsh lights of the school and community theaters.  She still thought it a strange habit, but now, as she added her tears to the mix on a square of black with music notes embroidered around the edges, Sansa found herself wholeheartedly approving of it.

 “Thank you,” she managed to mumble, too embarrassed to look at either Jon or her sister.  No doubt her makeup was running in ugly streaks all over her face.  

 Sansa’s phone buzzed again. Oh, no.  It had to be Margaery, furious that Sansa and presumably Harry were late, and –

 “Oh, flying heck!” she exclaimed, remembering what else she and Harry were expected to do at the ball. She tried to stand up but tripped over the hem of her dress, and she would have fallen back onto the stairs but for Jon catching her and helping her all the way up.

 “Thanks,” Sansa muttered as Jon stepped back.  Arya rolled her eyes.

 “‘Flying heck?’ Sansa, really.  Rickon’s not exactly around – probably off playing foosball with Dad – ”

 Sansa, who had long since grown accustomed to using slang expressions at home so as to avoid incurring her mother’s ire for using stronger language around her younger brother, waved her sister off.

 “Stuff it, Arya, you’re not the one who’s supposed to dance with her stupid date to open the ball and got dumped by him, and now I can’t – ”  Her phone buzzed again, and she picked up her purse from the ground and began rummaging through it again.

 “Oh.  Right.  Sorry.” Arya turned to Jon.  “Hey, wait, aren’t you supposed to be there too? Running all the music and everything?”

 Jon scratched the back of his head.  “Right, I just came back to get my USB drive with some of my files I need on it.  I left it here with Bran by accident.”  He was interrupted by a sob from Sansa, who could find her phone nowhere in her purse.  Jon bent to retrieve it from one of the stairs and held it out to her.

 “Thanks,” Sansa choked out, rubbing her eyes furiously.  “Sorry, I – oh, you probably want this back, and – ”  She held out the handkerchief to Jon, who waved it away.

 “It’s OK,” he said. “I do have some other ones at home.”

 Sansa managed a weak smile. She had indeed made Jon several other handkerchiefs before they had entered ninth grade and been assigned to different homerooms, by which time Jon had discovered his passion for metallurgy and begun helping out at the community theater, and the other students had stopped making quite so much fun of him, and Sansa had figured he did not need his secret admirer quite so much any more.

 “Bran!”  Arya’s belted exclamation brought Sansa sharply back to the present.  She flushed when she realized she was still holding Jon’s handkerchief out to him.

 “Sansa,” he was saying, “you OK?”

 Sansa nodded at the same time Jon hung his head.  “No, sorry, that was stupid,” he said.  She shook her head, but before she could think of what to say, Jon’s own head snapped back up.  His face had gone pink, but he looked her straight in the eye.

 “I – I – you can say no,” he said, “but I can take you to the ball if – if you want, and you can find a guy to dance with, or – or – I could dance with you for the first one – I mean, I’m not good at it and I’d have to help with the sound later, but you’d – you wouldn’t be left alone that way, and I could take you home after the first dance, or any time later, if you wanted to go, or if you wanted to go out to McDonald’s or wherever for a snack between dances if you just want a break. Sam knows how to do that stuff as well as I do, so I can leave and come back, no problem.  I can even change into my suit, if – if you want me to dance.”

 Sansa merely stared at Jon. She knew he was no Harry when it came to dancing, but she had no Harry or anybody else to dance with, and right now having somebody, whatever his skill level, was infinitely better than having no one to dance with at all – or even having Harry to dance with, at this point.  She and Jon would still get a lot of strange looks and whispers from her friends and everyone else, but then Jon was used to both the whispers and the looks, and Sansa was sure to get them anyway after everyone found out Harry had dumped her. At least she would get neither from Jon.

 “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, Sansa.”  Jon’s voice had lowered, and Sansa thought she could detect a hint of disappointment. She shook her head.

 “No, it’s – ” she began, but was interrupted when Arya, Bran, and Catelyn Stark all entered the room at once.

 “Sansa, honey, Harry’s not here yet?  What happened, sweetheart?”  Catelyn wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders while Bran handed Jon’s USB drive to him.

 Sansa smiled wanly at her mother.  “Harry’s not coming, Mom.  He – he broke up with me, but Jon’s going to take me to the ball and – and do the first dance with me.”

 A devilish grin spread across Arya’s face.  Catelyn, whose back was turned to her, wiped a tear off of her elder daughter’s cheek and drew her in for a hug.

 “Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she murmured.  “Are you sure you’re up for going?  You don’t have to go, you know, if you’d rather not, even if you don’t want to talk about it right now.”

 Sansa blew her nose into the handkerchief and gave both her mother and Jon a wobbly smile.  “No, Mom, it’s OK,” she said.  “Jon says he’ll take me home after the first dance if I want to go.” She gave Jon a wobbly smile, and he returned a steady one that reached and filled his dark brown eyes.

 Catelyn gave her daughter a searching look, then nodded and turned to Jon.  “Thank you very much, Jon,” she said.  “I’m sure you know that Sansa is expected to be home before midnight.”

 Jon flushed again and nodded.  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Stark,” he replied.  “We’ll be back before then.”

 Fifteen minutes later Sansa and Jon, she with her makeup reapplied and he sporting the dusty suit and tie he had hastily changed into while waiting for her to tidy up, arrived at school for the pre-ball photo session. Sansa spent the entire ride typing her apologies along with a brief explanation to the text group, but Jeyne Poole still shot her a dirty look when she arrived.  Fortunately, just before Sansa began posing with the others for photos, she caught Jon frantically trying to brush some of the dust bunnies off of his suit with, of all things, the blue pencil he had previously had tucked behind his ear.  The smile she produced for the cameras then was real.  So was the smile she gave Jon when he offered her his arm to escort her onto the dance floor.

 “I really, really appreciate it, Jon,” she said.  “I hope I didn’t make you late for Sam and the others; you can tell them it’s my fault their best sound person wasn’t there on time.”

 “You made Sam late?” said Jon, his expression perfectly deadpan.  Sansa giggled in spite of herself.

 “No,” she replied. “The best sound person there tucks blue pencils behind his ear.”

 Jon reddened and immediately reached behind his ear to pull out the pencil resting there, but Sansa shook her head.

 “I didn’t mean you should take it out,” she said.  “It’s enough that you’re offering to dance with me.  I don’t want to make you do it without the pencil, after all.”  She smiled warmly at him, and Jon smiled back, although his face was still red.

 “You’re not making me dance with you; I offered to do it,” he pointed out.  “Besides, I’m the one who should apologize in advance for stepping on your feet by accident.”

 Sansa opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Margaery Tyrell, who swept over with Joffrey next to where Sansa and Jon were standing.

 “One minute, Sansa,” she said.  Sansa did not miss the eyebrow the other girl raised pointedly at the pencil perched behind Jon’s ear.

 Joffrey, however, upstaged his girlfriend with a snort.  “Made hanging with the computer weirdos full-time, huh, Stark?” he said.  Sansa straightened herself up to her full height.

 “Yes, Baratheon, I have,” she replied.  “I find it a step up from my previous company.  I rather admire computer weirdos, in fact.”

 Both Margaery’s shocked look and Joffrey’s reply were cut off by the arrival of Mr. Arryn, who was Casterly Rock’s music director and also the teacher in charge of the ball. A few moments later, he and his wife swept onto the dance floor, and the planning committee members followed with their dates.

 True to his word, Jon spent much of the first dance stumbling and then apologizing to Sansa, but she kept waving away his apologies and redirected him to the correct steps. Teaching him proved a welcome diversion for them both from the strange looks they were getting from the other students, especially Jeyne and Joffrey – so welcome, in fact, that they continued for two more dances before Jon once again apologized, this time for having to take off backstage to help his friends with the sound.

 Sansa shook her head. “No, don’t be sorry,” she said. “And – and thank you, Jon.  I really, really appreciate it a lot.”

 Jon smiled.  “I really appreciate you trying to help me not look like total computer weirdo out there,” he said.  Sansa rolled her eyes.

 “You’re not a weirdo,” she replied.  “You never were.”  She took a deep breath.  “A weirdo wouldn’t have offered to bring me here when I – I didn’t have anyone else to take me, and – and a weirdo definitely wouldn’t have tackled Theon Greyjoy when he was picking on Bran and me on the playground.”  She felt her face flush red.  “Especially since you took the blame for me shoving Theon over it.”

 Jon stared at her, clearly bemused.  “Oh,” he finally said.  “That was a long time ago.  I’m not still mad at you for it or anything.  Besides, Theon deserved it.”

 Sansa nodded.  “I know,” she said.  “I’m still sorry, though.”

 Jon shook his head. “It’s – it’s all right, Sansa. Don’t worry about it,” he said, and after a moment he held out his right hand.  “No hard feelings?  Friends, or – or at least fellow weirdos?”  He gave her the lopsided grin she’d first seen when she had given him the box of pencils and the note apologizing for the detention Mr. Cassel had given him back in sixth grade for defending her and Bran in front of Theon. Sansa gave him her hand at once and smiled back.

 “Friends and fellow weirdos,” she said.  “Deal.”

[dubsism]

Today’s Movie: The Bad News Bears

Year of Release: 1976

Stars: Walter Matthau, Tatum O’Neal, Vic Morrow

Director: Michael Ritchie

This movie is on my list of essential films.

NOTE: This installment of Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies is not being done as part of a blog-a-thon.  Instead, this is a monthly event hosted by MovieRob called Genre Grandeur.  The way it works is every month MovieRob chooses a film blogger to pick a topic and a movie to write about, then also picks a movie for MovieRob to review.  At the end of the month, MovieRob posts the reviews of all the participants. For January 2020, the honor of being the “guest picker” went to Sally of 18 Cinema Lane. The topic is “Youth-Led Movies.” Not does my choice fit the theme, but it is a reminder that Spring Training is right around the corner…pitchers and catchers report in less than three weeks.

The Story:

The Bad News Bears exists as a a team because a city councilman and attorney named Bob Whitewood (played by Ben Piazza) who filed a lawsuit against an ultra-competitive Southern California Youth Baseball League which excluded the least skilled athletes. In order to settle the lawsuit, the league agrees to add an additional team, the Bears.  Being composed of the worst players, Whitewood can’t get anybody to manage the team until he pays Morris Buttermaker (played by Walter Matthau) to do it.

Buttermaker is less than an inspiring leader; he’s a drunk and a boor, but he knows baseball as he was a minor-league pitcher.  He’s also a perfect match for this team of misfits, featuring a nearly-blind brainiac pitcher named Stein (played by David Pollock), a pugnacious, foul-mouthed shortstop with a Napoleon complex named Tanner (played by Chris Barnes), an outfielder who dreams of emulating his idol Hank Aaron named Ahmad (played by Erin Blunt), a bullied sad sack Timmy Lupus (played by Quinn Smith), and a portly catcher named Engelberg (played by Gary Lee Cavagnaro) who is arguably the best player on the team.   The Bears are so bad that in their opening game, they don’t even record an out; they give up 26 runs before Buttermaker threw in the towel.

Since he knows the team is hopeless, Buttermaker recruits the sharp-tongued Amanda Whurlizer (played by Tatum O’Neal), the 11-year-old daughter of Buttermaker’s ex-girlfriend who previously he trained as a pitcher. At first, she tries to convince Buttermaker that she has given up baseball, but he knows that’s bullshit. Buttermaker then recruits  the “best athlete in the area,” a cigarette-smoking, loan-sharking, motorcycle-riding juvenile delinquent named Kelly Leak (played by Jackie Earle Haley).

Behind Amanda’s arm and Leak’s bat, the Bears start winning games. Eventually, they make it to the league championship game where they face the best team in the league, appropriately named the Yankees. Coached by the aggressive, competitive Roy Turner (played by Vic Morrow). As the game progresses, tensions are ratcheted up as Buttermaker and Turner engage in shouting matches, directing their players to become increasingly more ruthless, going as far as fighting, spiking on the slide, or batters deliberately being hit with pitches.

The turning point of the game comes after a heated exchange between Turner’s son (and Yankees pitcher) Joey and the Bears catcher Engelberg. Turner orders his son to walk Engelberg, the only Bears hitter he cannot overcome.  Joey doesn’t want to walk him, so he throws the next pitch directly at Engelberg’s head. He missed, but an enraged Turner goes to the mound and slaps Joey. On the next pitch, Engelberg hits a routine ground ball back to Joey who exacts revenge against his father by holding the ball until Engelberg rounded the bases. Joey then leaves the game, dropping the ball at his father’s feet.

At this point, Buttermaker realizes he’s forgotten what Little League baseball is all about, and has a genuine, albeit slightly misguided way of showing his team his appreciation. After they lose the championship to the Yankees, Buttermaker starts handing out beers from his cooler, and The Bad News Bears start spraying beer all over each other as if they had won.

The Hidden Sports Analogy:

The hardest part about doing a series called “Sports Analogies Hidden in Classic Movies” comes when the film being discussed actually centers on sports.  That’s because the analogies sometimes aren’t really hidden.

Trust me, as a guy who has coached youth baseball, the beauty of this movie is the Bad News Bears really exist. Understanding this requires a working knowledge of how Little League baseball actually works. Most of us really only know Little League from the annual World Series every August. Those teams you see in Williamsport, Pennsylvania are “all-star” teams comprised of the best players and coaches from an entire league. The Bad News News Bears represent the other end of the spectrum. Little League is all about participation, which means for every team of all-stars, there’s a team of Bad News Bears.

Likewise, you can find every kid from that movie on almost every Little League team in America. Start with “Amanda,” the girl who can out-pitch everybody…she’s rare, but she exists. On the other hand, you can find a “Tanner”almost anywhere…a little “Billy Martin” waiting to happen who is willing fight anybody anybody at the drop of a hat. There’s usually an “always talking, only backs it up sometimes”-type like Ahmad, much as there’s always the brainy “Stein” kid. As for the heart and soul of “participation,” there’s always a nose-picking little nerd-burger like “Lupus.” Finally, lots of teams have an “Engelbert,” a chunky catcher who can rip the cover off the ball. To lead them all, there’s the beer-guzzling, pool-cleaning coach Morris Buttermaker.

Granted, since this movie is forty-plus years old, the “Buttermaker” model of a manager had been largely replaces by the suburban, golf-shirt wearing “Dad” types.  But there’s one thing that hasn’t changed. I will tell you from first-hand experience that the sun around which every Little League revolves is Kelly Leak. That’s the kid you see every year in Williamsport, the kid who looks like he drove the team bus, smokes, and may already have two kids of his own. He’s got papers that say he’s 12 years old, and he keeps them right next to ones he uses when he buys beer. Your eyes go right to that kid because he’s taller than the coach and has more razor-stubble.

Your eyes also go right to that kid because nine times out of ten, he’s the best player on the diamond. In between his dirt bike and his Marlboros, he’ll put on the spikes, track down every ball in the outfield, and smack two or three out of the park. That’s the essential Kelly Leak; the kid who made the Bad News Bears respectable because not only was he the star, he added a major dose of “bad-ass.”

That’s because Leak was the definition of “man amongst boys.” He can lung a Marlboro, ride a motorcycle, and fire a strike to 3rd base from beyond the left field wall. This all begs a question. Usually in Little League, the best athletes do the pitching, so why the hell wasn’t Leak on the mound after Amanda has elbow trouble that probably got her a “Tommy John” surgery?

Instead, Buttermaker leaves Leak in LEFT FUCKING FIELD! He doesn’t even have him in center field where you would normally have your best outfielder and puts power-nerd Stein on the mound to lose the game. This never made any sense to me…and that’s coming from a guy who once upon a time may have been Engelbert, then may have grown up to be Buttermaker.

So, grab a beer kids…

Now, for a completely unsolicited, but quasi-related plug. When I’m not being the most interesting independent sports blogger on the web, Mrs. J-Dub and I enjoy traveling and staying in unique hotels. Well, there’s really no better use of the term “unique” than the City Hall Grand Hotel in the world’s capital of Little League Baseball, Williamsport, Pennsylvania.

J-Dub doing his Buttermaker impression in one of his favorite hotels.

If you ever find yourself in Williamsport, do yourself a favor and check out the City Hall Grand Hotel. It’s a very different experience, but it you’re willing to try something you’re not used to, you’re in for a reward. It’s called the City Hall Grand for a reason.  It’s in Williamsport’s 19th-century City Hall building.  At one point, when Williamsport was the logging capitol of the world, there were more millionaire’s per capita in his town than anywhere else on earth. This building is an example of that era.

Not only that, but it’s still also a functioning office building.  Yes that’s sounds strange at first, and it is.  There’s also no traditional front desk. Yes, that’s strange too.  But the experience outweighs the oddity; in fact it turns out to one of it’s greatest charms.  The rooms are tucked away in spots away from the offices, but you will encounter them on your travels through the building.  Bumping into somebody in a suit on their way to work (most of the office tenants are lawyers) is not uncommon, especially on the way to the common lounge to get some coffee.

But now that Williamsport is now known as the home of Little League baseball, the people are are terribly proud of their town and extremely friendly to tourists.  They want you to enjoy their town, and people staying at the City Hall will immediately notice that.  They will all ask you how your enjoying stay, tell you good places to eat and attractions to see beyond the baseball complex.

So, if you’re ever in the Williamsport area, do your self a favor and give this definition of unique a look.  Then go check out the Little League complex, then go up the hill and visit Clyde Peeling’s Reptile Land, During your stay, be sure to have breakfast at The Buttery Biscuit, dinner at Johnson’s Cafe, and take in some craft micro-brew at the The Bullfrog Brewery.

In the meantime, here’s some selected sights from Mrs. J-Dub’s and my most recent trip to Williamsport.

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The Moral of The Story:

Whether it’s having a juvenile delinquent as your left-fielder, or staying in a hotel made from a 19th-century American castle, getting outside the box has it’s rewards.

Check out Dubsism’s Movies and Blog-A-Thons page for a full schedule of projects past, present, and future!

Got a question, comment, or just want to yell at us? Hit us up at  dubsism@yahoo.com, @Dubsism on Twitter, or on our Pinterest,  Tumblr, Instagram, Snapchat or Facebook pages, and be sure to bookmark Dubsism.com so you don’t miss anything from the most interesting independent sports blog on the web.

Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies – Volume 65: “The Bad News Bears” Today's Movie: The Bad News Bears Year of Release: 1976 Stars: Walter Matthau, Tatum O'Neal, Vic Morrow…

[dominickkwad645-blog]

An Introduction to paintball mask

: In pretty much or paintballing centres paintball guns will fire paintball's around 300 ft per second, and this will not differ when children play. These marshals will be able to keep the children more engaged and in addition will have a sharper eyesight with regards to looking for kids displaying dangerous behaviour on the field like removing their paintball goggles. Despite the fact that they are generally favored over carbon dioxide paintball tanks, the nitrogen and high pressure types of surroundings tanks do involve some disadvantages.

Type 2 - High Pressure Atmosphere and Nitrogen Paintball Tanks. These type of tanks utilize what is known as a liquid CO2 which then expands itself right into a gas which then will take the paintball and propels it out the barrel. You will need to ensure that the CO2 cartridges will be the type specifically designed for paintball guns as the propellant of the paint.

When you are building these paintball mines you will definitely be using the same CO2 cartridges that are used in paintball guns. If you are into fast paced, action paintball play, the other of the paintball guns that shoot balls at a high price may become for you. While they can obtain rather pricey, they provide players the capability to shoot paintballs at a high rate of speed.

Face protection The principal gear airsoft players will need is protective equipment. Unlike paintball gear, which can be expensive, airsoft gun equipment is either moderately costly or just doesn't. Knowing what airsoft gun to play with will provide you with the best benefit at winning the game of choice.

Airsoft games are fun and exciting strategy online games. As I said before, good beginner paintball guns oftentimes can be found in packages. Today this year's top three groups in the PXP X-Pro Competition to Seven can be Edmonton, Tampa Bay Harm, and Boston Crimson Legion in the very best three places and there is one more paintball video game remaining to play in the PXP.

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The paintball players shoot more rapidly as well as perhaps at closer range in speedball than in woodsball, shooting a lot more paint this way. Woodsball players also fire much less, since it is harder to learn where the other players are-and therefore these paintballers do not waste as very much ammo. The paintball players can do all they can to keep their locations unknown.

Hitting and losing your adversaries adds to the fun and fervor that accompanies playing paintball, thus guarantee you can point appropriately. N paintball video games, your weapon is normally all you have to guarantee your survival, so that it is vital to learn how to make use of it to stay "alive." Going to some shooting classes previously your initial rivalry can be an awesome solution to sharpen your paintballing aptitudes and make everything fair. Another big component of safeguarding yourself on the paintball field is controlling the way you as an individual play the game.

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Some paint ball guns have pump action, but this kind of gun isn't for the player who seeks speed since it requires manual cocking. Without the gun, the overall game play of paintball will be rather boring. They designed that the players could begin the action quicker without needing to stalk through the woods for ten minutes without viewing anyone, and the business enterprise owners were happy because players were purchasing more paintballs because of the constant fire fights.

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Paintball is a war or hunting game in which you can use a variety of guns to shoot out plastic balls filled with colored paint. In 1984, Caleb Solid opened the initial indoor paintball playing field, positioned in Buffalo, New York. In 1982, Gaines marketed paintball as to be the National Survival Game and also for the reason that year, the mass media began to offer some exposure to this game, specifically in Sports Illustrated.

The creator of the very first kind of paintball game was a shoe retailer by the name of Bob Gumsey, together with his friends, Hayes Noel who was simply a stockbroker and Charles Gaines, a writer in those days. Only 1 year later, the annals of paintball as a recreation sport began and in 1981 the 1st paintball game was played in New Hampshire by twelve competitors. The history of paintball is rather brief in comparison to other sports and it dates back only 20 years ago as in 1980, James Hale of Daisy Manufacturing developed and patented what would down the road become the very first paintball gun in the world.

Gather together all of your televisions into one or two areas and invite the boys to bring additional game systems if you want to. Then set up several video games systems and allow the males to play during the party. Base the theme on beloved activities that the youngsters enjoy, including video games, music, sports, Television shows or films. For the beginner as well as for recreational purposes like target practice or paintball shooting the40 cal blowguns are the most popular.

To increase the party experience, decorate the region with balloons and streamers, give a birthday cake and program several pool games that can include all the such as for example pool volleyball, guests and Marco Polo. Tippmann 98 Paintball Guns & Materials - Tippmann 98 markers, update kits & accessories. Tacamo is a organization that specializes in only AK47 parts, guns and accessories for several different paintball markers; namely Tippmann guns.

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Unlike many similar sports, Airsoft offers totally bio-degradable ammo. This implies that Airsoft guns can fire with impressive accuracy at lengthy distances. Airsoft guns are not restricted in power (physically speaking) as the bbs are solid, and will become fired at insane speeds - not merely in conditions of FPS, but also in price of fire.

Because Airsoft guns are so streamline within their builds, it really is all too simple to attach an array of adjustments to them. While there are plenty of gas powered Airsoft guns, most of them are driven by electricity or springs which are inexpensive and absolve to refuel, respectively. This means that it really is a sport that's available to players of all financial situations.

Airsoft guns can cost a lower amount than $20, but may also go well into the thousands of dollars. The difference is small at first, but does add up very quickly for players that continue steadily to play over a long period of time.