#which apparently they used for wine during that festive occasion

[saucerfulofsins]

Jonny actually enjoys camping. It’s a good team building exercise, and they’ve been having great weather by day—even if tonight is the third in a row that it’s been raining. He’s known Patrick for five, and he can also tell that Patrick is adamant about Jonny hating camping, and hating mornings.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t even think he’s been all that grumpy, making an effort to laugh at jokes—even the ones he doesn’t particularly understand—and let things slide. He kind of needs to; he’s already got a target on his back because Sharpy is a menace and Jonny isn’t that good at relaxing yet. Sharpy’s, like, boss-level prankster. Jonny is a noob. (Jonny also doesn’t really game, but David does and he doesn’t understand everything but this, this he feels to his core).

Anyway, not grumpy. But this is the fifth night in a row Patrick tosses and turns, and Jonny is getting really fucking tired of not sleeping.

“Please just—“ he starts, and Patrick stops moving. “Just, go to fucking sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” Patrick bitches back. “Fuck.”

Also, Jonny doesn’t hate camping, but Patrick does. That is not an insignificant factor, here. At least he isn’t complaining about the dampness of their sleeping bags (actually Jonny’s and David’s, matching Toews bags, because Kaner’s never gone camping in his life and by now Jonny thinks that that’s probably a good thing that should not have been changed). Or the bugs in the tent. Or the sound of the rain on the vinyl, the smell of nature, or having to piss up against a tree.

“You’re too fucking noisy,” Jonny snaps. “Settle the fuck down.”

The flashlight flicks on, pale light illuminating the tent, and Patrick shuffles around, sitting up in his bag. “I wanna, okay? I’m just fucking cold and there’s no—“ he huffs in frustration, rummaging around. Jonny sees that Pat’s already piled clothes over himself and it’s—kind of fair, really. Jonny’s not bothered, he runs warm, but already he knows that Patrick doesn’t.

Which is how he ends up suggesting that they share. Patrick nearly crawls into the single bag with Jonny, but Jonny stops him—gets them to zip together their bags, which is a hell of a fucking job in a tiny tent. They keep bumping into each other, and Patrick keeps pushing up against the tent so Jonny has to tell him to cut it off if he doesn’t want to spring a leak, and by the time they’re done Jonny is sweating and they’re both a little out of breath.

And then Patrick shuffles to the edge of the supersize sleeping bag, like he’s trying to crawl away from Jonny.

“I thought you were cold,” Jonny tells him.

“Yeah.”

“So come here then.” Patrick shuffles a little closer but—jesus. Jonny still isn’t gonna be able to sleep like this; he can tell Patrick is still trying to get warm, shifting around and rubbing his own feet together. Jonny sighs and reaches out, pulling Patrick up against his body. And his feet are icicles, making Jonny hiss.

“What the fuck,” Patrick complains, and then proceeds to be more awkward than Jonny is when Sharpy pranks him.

Jonny doesn’t answer; he just grabs Pat’s arm and pulls it over his own waist. “There you go,” he says. “Body heat, man. Now settle down, yeah?” He’s done this plenty with David, when they were younger and went camping late in the season, or at high altitudes. Even if being this close to Patrick makes his insides squirm, and he has to forcibly slow his breathing, and maybe shift his hips back a little from Patrick. Jon won’t be getting much sleep tonight either, apparently, and he’s clearly a fucking dumbass because he probably could have known this would happen.

Patrick is staring at him, though. Patrick is staring, and then his thumb swipes over the strip of skin exposed between Jonny’s shorts and shirt. He can’t stop the shaky inhale and he must miss something, because the next moment their lips are pressed together and he doesn’t remember moving. Patrick’s kisses are eager, deep licks into Jonny’s mouth, and Jonny’s fingers find their way into Pat’s hair.

And he’s thought about this shit before, about kissing boys. He’s known about his latent bisexuality for years, since his early teens probably—with the kind of sureness that rivalled the certainty he would never put it into practice. Yet here he is, out camping with hockey teammates, and kissing one of them. He’s into it, and so is Patrick, and then it’s over. Patrick shuffles back a little, swallowing audibly. Jonny thinks he hears a quiet out-of-breath fuck, but that could be his imagination. It could be someone in a different tent, although Jonny is glad that the rain covered any noise they might have made.

He swallows too, hopes he didn’t ruin things—but then Patrick mutters, “Sleep well.” Like nothing happened, and Jonny is okay with that, because he wouldn’t know what could change, anyway.

Except that Patrick must be warm now because he doesn’t turn around every other second, and Jonny gets to actually sleep. That, he decides, is good enough for now.

[mythriteshah]

Sleepover with the Angels

Thiji’s Angels: the ever-dependable and trustworthy entourage of the Mythrite Sultan’s retinue. These maidservants work tirelessly to maintain the integrity of the Regalia whenever their master is away or otherwise indisposed.  And on occasion, they conduct numerous operations and campaigns across the globe to deal with whatever threats may surface.  Delicate yet deadly, the Angels are the shining example of power and beauty – both of which they have in spades.

But whatever goes on through an Angel’s day, when they are not upholding the good name of the Higuri Regalia?  What activities await them when they are off-duty?  The answer one would find one day when Miss Kaori, one of the newest Angels to join the team, came upon a missive enveloped in an aroma unfamiliar to her.  She gave it to the Head Secretary of the Othard Branch – Yuanji Yuji – who immediately discerned the scent:

“Frankincense.  This is from Miss Susuna,” she deducted. Immediately after opening the letter to read its contents aloud, Yuanji and the others quickly gathered whatever they could within the next bell and made their way to the Shirogane docks, where the Mythril Wavetraders were anchored.  Their sisters from the Aldenard Branch had arrived as well, and their own personal effects and belongings were packed with the rest of the cargo.  Apparently they were already making their way to Hingashi to pick them up long before the message found its way to their mailbox!  Head Secretary Sesena hurriedly brought the others on board and ordered the merchant fleet to set sail for Thavnair.

About a half-bell before sunset, and everyone had arrived at Radz-at-Han, where they unloaded and transported the cargo over towards the Main Branch Headquarters.  There, a familiar face was awaiting them at the courtyard.

“Shiro!!” the Angels gasped.  This was Shiro Reina, their double agent downrange working for the Lion Order. She gave them a wink and took a large sip from the bowl of sake she delicately balanced on her hand.

“ようこそみなさん;点灯しています,” she uttered in her native tongue.

“Uh, care to translate, Miss Kaori?” asked Shishira.

“Shiro-San said, ‘Welcome, everyone.  It’s lit.’”

The Angels cheered and followed Shiro inside, where she would then lead them towards the newly-opened Servants’ Lounge whilst the Wavetraders hauled their cargo inside.  What was strange, however, was the attire the Angels were wearing: they all seemed to be dressed as if they were preparing to rest for the evening.  Nightgowns and nightcaps; slippers and pillows; even plush dolls in the likeness of the Mythrite Sultan.  But what could possibly constitute such a large gathering of the Angels under one roof, let alone all this cargo the Wavetraders were bringing? The answer would be made clear as the doors to the Servants’ Lounge swung wide open, revealing Treasurer Susuna with a *LARGE* glass of her favorite Bacchus Wine in hand:

“Welcome, girls, to our first-ever Regalia Slumber Party!” Susuna declared.  Everyone gave a loud cheer and entered the lounge, where they immediately broke out the food and drink.  “We’ve got a lot planned for this monumental occasion, but first, we gotta pay respects to an old friend.”

All the Angels took a glass of wine (or sake, for the Far Easterners) and gathered around a large portrait of a young Dunesfolk woman on the far side of the lounge.  She had eyes as white as snow, but blank.  Her hair was long and fuchsia with blue highlights, and in the portrait she wore a gown befitting that of a Sultana, her smiling visage bringing the entire picture to life.

Susuna took her place upon the balcony – her preferred perch and seat of power in the Servants’ Lounge – and turned to face the portrait. With a snap of her fingers, the gil which poured from the walls ceased, and all fell silent within seconds.  She then rose her glass to the portrait, and everyone else would follow suit.  Those who delivered the cargo also joined in the occasion.

“Angels and servants alike, we are here tonight to honor one of our fallen sisters: Lady Mamai Mai, whom was posthumously given the royal name of Sor for being the first – and only – Angel to have fallen in love with our master.  She was a young and promising Angel, who had a peerless gift for metallurgy, so puissant that not even the Calamity – which divested her of sight – could deter her mastery.  Only Althyk and Nymeia Themselves would know what events would have transpired have things went different in the Amphitheatre - whose name I can’t recall right now because I’m about four glasses in…”

“Akh Afah, Suna!” Lelena interjected.

“Thank you!  But without you, Lord Thiji wouldn’t have been the badass he is today, so here’s to you, Lady Mamai!  A sister; an Angel; a friend.  We know you’re watching us from on high, with wings you’ve so rightfully earned.  And even though we miss you and your cotton-candied sweetness that you always brought to us, we know your spirit will be with us to join in this celebration.  You won’t be forgotten, and every Angel who has come after you shall know your name, that your legacy may live on through our hearts and souls! Your vision was greater than any in all the land.  And once you’re done rejoicing with us, may you find peace in the aetherial plane. To Lady Mamai!”

“To Lady Mamai!” everyone echoed before finishing their drink. Susuna especially took hers to the head, falling over the railing just as she finished it.  Fortunately, she landed conveniently in the arms of Isja, who gave a playful wink to the Treasurer before setting her back down. With their remembrance concluded, it was finally the hour to commence the festivities.  The slumber party kicked off with a tournament of the popular card game which swept the realm: Triple Triad.  While it was tempting for Shiro, Yuanji, Kaori, and Koyuki, they preferred Doman Mahjong instead, so they played amongst themselves and watched their fellow Angels duke it out on the 3-by-3 battlefield…

Susuna: All right, girls!  Remember: the regional rules are Ascension and Three Open!  Match rules are Plus and Same!

Lilina: What?! Since when?!  I checked the rules for Thavnair the night before and they were Sudden Death and Chaos!  How did they change so quickly?!

Sosona: I remember hearing that one of the noble houses’ aristocrats spoke to some queer Hyur chick standing in the middle of Radz-at-Han the other day.

Luluma: Oh, I’ve heard of her!  Brunette; white dress; red bolero; blue jewel over her forehead?

Sosona: Yeah, the very same.  Fancied herself the “Queen of Cards”.  She seems to plant herself in areas with high foot traffic, but is never seen walking for some reason.  Anyway, the aristocrat paid her to change Thavnair’s rules because she has that much influence over the game.

Lilina: Well, how much did they pay her?!

Sosona: Thirty thousand gil.

Lilina: That’s it?! Suna could practically sneeze out five times that much given how opulent we are!

Susuna: I’ll take that as a compliment!  Now, let’s get to playing!

The tournament finally went underway, and the Angels commenced battle. They gave it their all in the battle of wits and expensive cardboard, but not everyone can be a winner.  One by one did they fall before their sisters through superior strategy and no small amount of luck, but only two would be left standing.  The time of the finals came, and it was down to Himmeya and Isja, who surprised everyone with her burgeoning skill.  The Far Eastern Angels halted their Mahjong to watch the finals match…

Lilina: After this night is over, I’m hunting down that “Queen of Cards” and changing the rules!  Stupid Ascension really cost me this tournament!

Luluma: Lina, you didn’t even make it through the preliminaries.

The other Angels couldn’t help but laugh at the remark.

Sesena: But I didn’t expect Himmeya to come in here with that deck of hers!  Where’d you learn to play like that?

Sarielle: And more importantly, why are all her cards Garlean?

Himmeya: I had a lot of time to play during my time serving the Resistance.  As for the cards, I beat up a few conscripts for them.

Shishira: Uh, does she mean that figuratively, or literally?

Himmeya: Yes.

Everyone paused to stare at Himmeya, who had a big question mark on her face.

Himmeya: What?  They were just hiding out around Gyr Abania at the time and I wanted to challenge them. They didn’t seem very belligerent, so I figured a game of Triple Triad wouldn’t hurt.  Though there was this one guy in the Ala Mhigan Quarter who got all uppity because he beat me, shouting “Glory Garlemald” this and “Unwashed savage” that, so I decked him.

Sarielle: Now I see why she likes hanging out in the Azim Steppe during work.

Veeveena: In her defense, such responses are justified given their history.

Umimi: Seconded!

Kaori: Quite the bloodthirsty Lalafells, I see…

Yuanji: We got to be a little blood-crazy to protect our lord.

Isja: With that out of the way – come, Himmeya.  Let us see who shall walk away as champion tonight!

With the banter concluded, the finals began.  Himmeya put up a fierce offensive with her Garlean deck, but Isja was able to hold her ground with her Primals, taking inspiration from the Eikon Collection.  The two fought with such skill that they were able to reach Sudden Death thrice, with the Ascension rule playing both to their advantage and disadvantage. However, something would catch Lilina’s eye…

Lilina: Wait… I noticed something!  Garuda… Lakshmi… Shiva… Susanoo… Ravana… Those are the primals either Lord Thiji or the Angels have faced!

Isja: Yes.  This deck serves as a reminder of the life our Mythrite Sultan has led to reach the position of power he currently holds.  The strength of these otherworldly beings shall see me through this day.

Himmeya: Respectable, Isja, but you forgot about my trump card – literally!

With a flourish, Himmeya slammed down the final card on the northeast corner that would seal Isja’s fate…

Angels: YOTSUYU GOE BRUTUS?!

Isja: Oh, no… with her lower-left stats now at “A”, that means…!

With Shiva and Ravana surrounding Yotsuyu, the rules of Same and Plus activate, resulting in them both being captured, and a combo that swept the board, taking Grynewaht, Lakshmi, Susanoo, Gaius, and Nael, and claiming the entire board for Himmeya, save for Garuda.

Susuna: And just like that, in an incredible finish, our own Ala Mhigan mauler takes the title of Triple Triad Champeen!

Isja: Well, I suppose one of us must excel at something.

Himmeya: Hahah!  You were a good opponent, Isja!  Let’s duel again sometime!

Isja: Deal.  But this time, it will be on my battlefield: in fashion!

Susuna hands the trophy over to Himmeya: a gilded card with outspread wings, commemorating her place as champion.  With Triple Triad now knocked out, the party would resume apace. First, the Angels set up dummies in a row and showed off their ranged prowess.  Sesena decapitated her target’s head clean with a Shield Lob; Umimi created a breaching wound with her deadly Tomahawk; Kaori utilized her Samurai powers to send a blade of force to slice her dummy to ribbons – the Tachi: Enpi; Luluma and Isja, the resident Lancers, practiced their deadly accuracy through the Piercing Talon technique, skewering their targets with ease; Shiro and Yuanji brought the Far Eastern flair, turning their dummies into pincushions in a flash of Throwing Daggers.

Himmeya, being the only remaining Angel, nodded to the others’ fine work.  Then she cracked her knuckles and concentrated her chi, giving Koyuki the signal to launch a Water spell at the Fist of Rhalgr disciple.  She captured the Fluid Aura into her arms and made a flowing series of movements which molded the waters into tendril-like extensions of her arms, effectively increasing her striking range.  She then utilized this Fists of Water technique to grab the striking dummy by the arms, snapping them with her aqueous appendages. Then she would deliver a punch to the chest and sent it flying.

“Monks may not be good at fighting from a distance, but that’s because they’re too small-minded!” the Fist of Rhalgr disciple chided, which gave cause for the Angels to cheer.  Their evening of merriment resumed with a variety of different activities, from light dancing and music, to combat demonstrations, and even some showcases of the latest fashion designs from the Regalia's think tank, courtesy of Isja. The drink flowed like the Thaliak River, and aided in prolonging the festivities well into the long hours of the night.  Save for Himmeya, who stuck primarily to lemonade, every other Angel had surrendered to the pure inebriation wrought from their rampant revelry - the one affected the most being Susuna, who was sitting atop the gil pile as if it were her own personal throne (which it kind of is).  Her fellow Angels were either resting on the floor, on a sofa, or over the railing on the floor above.

Their time of fun had obviously begin to wind down at this point, at which Sesena stirred from her stupor to speak with her sisters-in-arms...

Sesena: All right, girls.  I think now's the time we addressed the marid in the room!

Lilina: There's, like... four marids around the lounge, though!

Sosona: Idiom, Lilina.

Kaori: What does Sesena-San mean about this?

Umimi: Well, it can't possibly be about why Thavnair's joining the Blitzball Association, so it can only mean...

Sesena, pointing to a Thiji plush doll: Yup!  Our lovable lord and Sultan, Thiji sor Higuri!

Lelena: What of our beautiful lord?  Did something happen to him?

Sesena: Not what happened, but is happening now!

Meriri: The lass is talkin' about our lordship's marital conundrum!

Sesena: Thank you, Consultant of Metals!  So, as you all know - save for you, Miss Kaori, as you are still new -

Kaori: No offense taken.

Sesena: Our Mythrite Sultan's about to reach his twenty-eighth Nameday.  More importantly, this will be his twenty-eighth Nameday spent single!  And while this may not be of much concern to most... the guy needs a Sultana, as much as he may not let that on!

Isja: Who could possibly amount to the brilliance that is our Sultan?  The man has molded himself into a bastion of beauty and power - so much so that even I will admit that I had fallen for him at one point.

Sosona: We all have, Isja.  It's okay.

Isja: Are you certain?

Himmeya: Well, not me.  It was mostly for his impressive combat prowess he showed all those summers ago.

Sesena: It's thanks to Lady Mamai's sacrifice that there is a "No Dating Angels" policy!  He may love us like his own daughters, but it's because of what happened in Coerthas that he doesn't want that emotional attachment to happen again! And at no offense to Lady Mamai, I'm glad that was implemented!

Lelena: I heard you entertained the thought of dating him after a talk with Lady Tahrara some time ago!

Sesena: So?!

The Angels laughed.  However, Shishira went silent, as it was obvious that she harbors feelings for the Mythrite Sultan.  Veeveena took noticed and gave a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Lilina: Even still, he attracts a lot of attention from the females, no matter their race!  I mean, look at him!  Any woman of any race with a love of Lalafells would take one look at him and they'd get hotter than the 4th Astral Moon!

Sosona: Too bad most of them are too busy getting hot from chasing tail.

Sarielle: In all aspects of the phrase, I take it?

Sosona: You know it.  The ailurophilia and herpetophilia’s running rampant across the land, and it’s become a big deal to us as of late.

Lelena: Our Chief Analytics Officer, hard at work!

Shishira: I believe the Sagolii Merchant Queen collects those tails and consumes them as delicacies...

Koyuki: Hm?  How are you aware of this, Miss Shishira?

Shishira: I... may have glimpsed a few things during my tutelage under her.  Queen Chichibi's awfully passionate about collecting them.

Yuanji: She and Sosona have a point, though.  Many people seem to go after Miqo'te and Au Ra for some reason. We of the Far East have especially taken notice of this and it's become a cause for alarm for us, especially when they began adapting our customs.  What is it about the tailed races that makes them so much more desirable than others?  I will honestly admit that even I wonder at times why there aren’t --

Himmeya: Er, Head Secretary, there is no possible way to explain that right now without inciting some kind of riot.

Yuanji: How so?  No one is listening in somehow, are they?

Himmeya: ... Angel's intuition dictates that the matter should be left where it is.

Kaori: I fail to see the appeal.  Lord Thiji is an iconic figure upon merchants and nobles alike.  It was my understanding that many would be attracted to the sight and promise of coin.  Why should race play so huge a factor in this?

Susuna, finally having enough of the debacle, groaned loud enough for it to echo throughout the Servants' Lounge, commanding the attention of the others.  She then shifted her weight ever-so slightly that she slid down from her throne of gil and landed smoothly at the base of the fountain, her full wine glass unmarred.

Susuna: Honestly, girls.  The answer’s right in front of you as if you slipped and fell into Nophica’s massive rack! No more pulling punches here; I'm gonna tell you all why it's not happening.

After taking a moment to gulp down her wine before tossing it aside (Shiro easily caught it so as to prevent it from shattering), Susuna hopped on the fountain and reclined so that her back laid upon the mountain of gil.

Meriri: The answer bein'...?

Susuna: The status quo!

Umimi: "Status what"?

Susuna: Status quo; the current state of affairs.

Isja: I'm afraid you've lost me, Miss Susuna.

Susuna: Don't worry, I've got an epexegesis ready for you!  I, my sisters, Lelena and her sisters, and even Miss Veeveena have been with Lord Thiji since the beginning - before the Angels were even formed!  Ever since the Sagolii Desert shenanigans, Lord Thiji's had te-heh-heh-herrible luck with the fairer sex!  Miss Shishira, I'm sorry -

Shishira: I'm over it.  I was his first crush, and I disregarded it for Memejora...

Umimi: That you had the courage to state this tonight makes you the bravest of us all.

Susuna: And there's no lie here that you'd have been an incredible match for Lord Thiji were things different!  But that's beside the point - somewhat.  What I'm trying to say is this: the Mythrite Sultan's single because the Twelve know it and are keeping it that way!

Sarielle: Oh, my.  She's had so much Bacchus Wine that it's poisoned her thought process...

Susuna: It's the truth!  Because think about it: if Lord Thiji ended up with the right woman, he'd take over the godsdamned world!  He’d already make the Syndicate jealous from the wealth he's amassed, and if the ideal lady were to come into his life and finally become his Sultana, there'd be no stopping the Regalia's sphere of influence from expanding!  Every attempt he's ever had at courting a woman has blown up in his face because there's no one in this world who can handle one of the most elegant men in Radz-at-Han becoming an item!  It's why his twin brother took the burden off him somewhat by making Lady Mimizo a grandsire!

Umimi, giggling: Guilty as charged!

Susuna: It's not uncommon knowledge that the Valide Sultan favors her firstborn the most - he's had the most potential, and has shown it well!  And every loving mother wants to see their children succeed!  But she's still holding out on hope that her firstborn will find someone!

Isja: Not to mention his romantic dream... I heard that, too, was shattered.

Susuna: Thanks for reminding me!  All the crap he's put up with as an adventurer molded him into the martial and magical badass that he is today!  This reinforces my argument; the Mythrite Sultan's a god among men, and he's immortalized himself on numerous occasions!  I bet any of our honorary Angels would also say the same!  But man, did he look so regal in that Sorceress's Knight armor...

Himmeya: I guess dating auctions are out of the question...

Susuna: He'd only entertain that nonsense just to see what the smallfolk think he's worth!

Meriri: The Treasurer's startin' to speak some sense, actually... But the lord's a recluse!  He's so focused on his work that he doesn't have time fer such frivolities!

Susuna: Because he knows that the powers that be have screwed him over so much that it's not worth trying!  With the possibility of a love interest pretty much balled up and thrown out the window, he’s had more time than ever to focus on his work!

Veeveena: Well, it is said that true love comes when you least expect it!

Susuna gave a hearty laugh in response to the Main Branch Advisor's comment.

Susuna: If that were true, then we wouldn't have this discussion!  And Menphina forfend that doesn't come true right as our lord is on his deathbed and some floozy comes barging in giving her teary confessions of love to the man! I only hope that one of us is in the room at that moment to plant one between the bitch's eyes to save whatever dignity remains of the moment!

Kaori: Susuna-San truly is a spectacle to behold...

Sosona: This is honestly her thought process - only slightly skewed when she's drunk.  But I’ll keep it one-hundred just as my sister is: if any of us had the honor of being his Sultana, it’d be you, Veeveena.  No one else is as deadly or as beautiful as yourself.  The heirs you two would sire would be something to behold.

Veeveena: Stop it, Miss Sosona!  I only wish to serve alongside our Sultan!  

Umimi: Everyone here would agree that a flower born of Thavnair such as yourself would be the ideal mate for my brother-in-law!  I had almost sought to abdicate my position as Head Secretary and become Advisor in your stead!

Veeveena: Lady Umimi, you’re much too kind.  Just the honor of being with Lord Thiji is enough to bring fulfillment to my life!  Being an Angel has helped with that immensely!

Susuna: Well, if anyone would have to step up to bat, it’s you.  While it’s no secret that Lalafell have heritage from both clans, The Higuri family’s lineage has been predominantly Dunesfolk for as long as any of them can remember!  And he’s the oldest of a set of octuplets, and he’s an uncle of two, so their line is more than secure!  In fact, by that logic, Lady Umimi should no longer be an Angel, but I’m not gonna argue with long-lost Nymian royalty, either!

Umimi: Which is why I wanted to step down from the position of Head Secretary!  An Angel married into the family would definitely spark a conflict of interest, but I’m only wed to the Regalia’s Adjutant!  

Susuna: Speaking of which, going back to what Sena said about the “No Dating Angels” policy – we’re not. His.  Harem.  Many people will see a bunch of ladies under the same room and start jumping to conclusions over that, only to be proven dead wrong in the end – literally. And this further backs up my point! People think that having all of us under his wing is merely a means of seeing who will earn his favor and putting a ring on it.

Sarielle: And yet I hear Nobles having affairs with their own servants numerous occasions. You would think that individuals of such high social standing would face little issues concerning the pleasures of the flesh.

Susuna: Re: "No Dating Angels"! Calling Lord Thiji’s Angels a harem is an insult not only to the Regalia and its employees, but to Lady Mamai as well! And we’re not gonna dishonor everything she did just to have the public view us as such!  We’re his army of assassin-maidservants, and it’s gonna stay that way!

Lelena, to Sesena: Your sister, the demagogue, hard at work!

Sesena: She’s not wrong.  Even I’m growing concerned over the fact.  While people have begun jokingly referring to Lord Thiji as the Mythrite Bachelor, that as well is becoming something of a trend.

Luluma: Our Sultan can’t help it; everything transpiring around the realm sort of gets in the way of such efforts.  Problems from abroad have escalated thanks to the appearance of those towers everywhere, not to mention factors beyond our control, like people’s preferences.  We may as well start sending missives to prospective suitresses.

Susuna: And hurt the Mythrite Sultan’s dignity?!  Not happening!  Let’s not waste funding on postage for that! Plus I heard they tried making a show about that once...

Shishira: But, it doesn’t even cost anything to use mail.

Susuna: The fact of the matter is that if we force this, the results are gonna be catastrophic!

Sarielle: But we cannot remain idle for too long if we truly wish to assist in his predicament.

Isja: Agreed.  I know firsthand that Valide Sultan would be very cross should he reach his thirtieth Nameday without a suitable mate.

Sosona: Well, I don’t think half-Lalafell, half-Viera children are being brought to the table, if that’s what you’re implying.

Isja: Very funny.  I am perfectly fine serving as his prime model.

Susuna: Look, we just gotta keep doing what we’re doing, and if something finally happens, we gotta make sure that whoever has their eyes set on the Mythrite Sultan isn’t either doing it for the money, is out to kill him, or worse!

Just then, they would all receive a ring from their linkpearls, to which they would promptly answer.

?: Good evening, Angels.

Angels: Good evening, Lord Thiji!

Thiji: I sincerely apologize for interrupting your meticulously-planned slumber party, but a thought had just occurred to me that the season of spring is close to arriving.  We must begin preparations for the fourth Regalia Largesse.  With the strange appearance of the towers, our more militaristic efforts have been curtailed somewhat, which will allow us to focus more on our events.  I have already gotten in touch with our merchant fleet to prepare our reserve stock, for there are still many items we’ve left over from the previous summer we can still offer to the masses.  Until then, however, you Angels enjoy your rest for tonight and the rest of this sennight. We will reconvene later this moon to divulge further details.

Angels: Thank you, Lord Thiji!

Thiji: Of course, my beloved Angels.  Enjoy your party.

The transmission ended and everyone rejoiced once more as the lounge rang with their jubilant cries.  Due to their intoxicated state, however, they did not celebrate for too long until they collapsed to the floor in a comedic fashion.  The issue regarding the Sultan’s courtship would have to wait.

For now, it was time for the Angels’ beauty sleep.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Share a Lair 16 || Thunderstruck Birthday Girl

This is basically just self indulgent Charlotte love showering. I generally write Charlotte as an April Taurus, because of when her birthday episode aired, so I figured this is around the time that I can just do a little cute, fun, show of love and stuff, and also give her a chance to get some nice things. It is mostly just filler, but does have at least one important piece of story and I’ll get back to the crucial parts with the next installment.

Charlotte liked a lowkey birthday. Usually, she had brunch and cake with her parents and spent it with the guys in the evening. This year, Max made a bunch of plans for her, and she was curious to see how well he would do with this, so she planned to have brunch with her parents and told the guys that she would touch base with them later in the night. At some point during making plans, the boys got competitive via casual conversation and so she was told that they were going to have a bake off and that as the birthday girl, she would be able to determine who baked the best cake. “So, you’re gonna have like four cakes?” Max asked.

“Knowing the guys, not a single one of the cakes that they plan on making will make it, whether due to calamity or them just eating all of the cake.” But, if there was cake, she was definitely having some of each.

After brunch, Max picked her up from the bistro, not really being that concerned that she wasn’t introducing him to her parents yet. He got a glimpse of them hugging her before leaving and they seemed extremely intimidating. He already didn’t like parents and hers were both successful in their own right and high maintenance from what he understood. Even the bistro that they were at was an exclusive place. Each guest had a personal server, and whenever the Pages came through, their Jamaican chef was given access to the kitchen to prepare their meals for special occasions. This morning, Charlotte had been presented with an authentic Jamaican breakfast and bottomless brunch drinks. Max couldn’t recall ever having had a brunch, much less one in an exclusive bistro, with a personal chef, personal server, and access to all of the bar.

Superhero life paid extremely well, but it was more of a trade off, since one’s body and health was on the line with each mission. Charlotte’s father was a physicist and spent more time working than he did at home. Her mother was a college chancellor and was home just as much as her husband, even though her job was only about an hour away. They tried to make up for the blank spaces with extravagant gifts and expensive celebrations, but Charlotte was simply always happy just to be able to see both of them at once for a little bit of time, even though half of it was generally spent with her having to update them on exactly how her educational career was going and have enough accolades and credentials to account for the time she couldn’t tell them about as a hero’s tech specialist. Learning that made Max understand her overachiever complex a little bit better, but he wanted the rest of her birthday to be as relaxing and rewarding as possible.

He took the scenic route back to the lair and she leaned her seat back and rested, watching everything and listening to a playlist that he made for her. He had several. One for when she goes to sleep, one for her workday, one for when she studied, etc. This one was one that he made for car trips with her. One of his favorite things about doing stuff for her was that she always noticed. The first time he’d made her a playlist, she’d said, “You had to have made this thing specifically for me, right?” He wanted to deny it, but noticed how excited that made her and confessed. It was an amazing feeling to do something for someone special and have them not only not take it for granted, but to really appreciate it. Max didn’t always receive that from his loved ones, but he usually did from Charlotte. He was confident that she was going to LOVE her birthday time with him.

She liked being around a lot of people less than he did. So, where he might be down for a party with his friends and loved ones, she was more like her family was over here for this amount of time, and her friends over there, for that amount of time. Everything and everybody had their time and place.

But, she told him not too long ago, “I never get tired of being around you though. It’s like… you’re practically a part of me.” She said it all casually, matter of factly. He couldn’t even hear her emotion in it, but he definitely started crying. Then there was this whole thing where she thought that maybe she said the wrong thing and tried to comfort him and apologize and explain better, “I’m not saying that you aren’t your own person or anything, just that like… my life is comfortable no matter how much of you is in it…” He had to compose himself to let her know that he was happy to hear it, not upset. He also apologized for crying, because damn… that couldn’t be sexy. Turns out, it was… as long as it’s warranted and not over every little thing! So, that was bonus scores for him.

.

Max made Henry “be scarce” from the lair for today, which was fine by him, because he had to “Serve these fools in the cakes department, anyway!” And Max just… Didn’t even WANT to know what that meant, but was relieved to later find out that it was about baking cakes and not the booty shaking contest that his brain automatically convinced him it would be. So, whenever Charlotte walked in and the place was set up like a spa, she gasped. “What’s happening?”

“You always want to grab a spa day, but you’ve cancelled like a dozen times because of work demands. So, I set up a home spa day for you… I did get funding from Dr. Page and Dr. Page, but they knew that you deserved it and since Henry asked, they just wired it to your birthday fund.”

“You and Henry got money from my parents for a birthday spa day for me?”

“I sent Henry to get money, yes. Is that alright?”

She covered her face, “That is SO SWEET! They could have eaten him alive. They’re very inquisitive people.”

“I sent him with an outline of all of the plans,” he said, with a shrug.

“You know me so well that you know how my parents are, even though I haven’t introduced you yet!” She was thunderstruck. He took her bags and handed her a robe and slippers…

After her spa treatment day, complete with Max playing guitar and singing her some songs during interludes while she waited for something to dry or settle, or whatever, she felt brand new. She hadn’t realized how stressed she’d been, even though Max does stuff for her whenever he can, she obviously had still been hella stressed out - probably because of Russia, graduation, Jasper and Henry, spa days being cancelled… But, she NEEDED this and Max giving her what she needed, right on time? She would miss that when he was gone. Now, she was sad for a moment.

“Time for gift presentation!” He said, distracting her from missing him before he was gone. She perked up, skin radiant, silky smooth curls popping, and her smile beaming. She was still in her robe and had her spa day swag bag next to her, which were packages of the products used today in her spa day treatment and also products from the spa that supplied the materials. “First of all, we have…” he spun his finger around and the kitchen island rotated to reveal where he had hidden all of her gifts, apparently (and she had forgotten that this lair had many secret areas, but he obviously hadn’t). He reached for a huge bag and beckoned it to her. “From the Hart household, warmth and comfort in the form of new silk sheets and pillowcases, plus fuzzy blankets and bamboo pillows!”

“YES!” She had been saying she needed these forever, but not getting around to ordering any because other stuff seemed more important everything she thought about it. She LIVED for luxury, though, she often talked herself out of it.

“From Henry, himself, an assortment of fine chocolates, a wine drinking accessories set, and a collection of gourmet cheeses.”

“Ooooh… He must’ve gone into his hero funds for this!” She said, pulling things out of Henry’s gift bag.

“He did!” Max cheered. “Jasper got you…” He gave her the bucket, wrapped kind of like an Easter basket, “A stationary pail.” There was something weird in his voice. He probably had asked Jasper to get something else and Jasper was having none of it.

She opened it to see a personal planner, a personalized pen and journal set, scented stickers, sticky pads, etc and she squealed. “He got them to match the scheme of my home office whenever I set up my new place after college!” Max furrowed his eyebrows and she explained, “You see, Max… You are very smart and pay attention to detail, but Jasper has known me for a really long time and sometimes has even the most menial of my lifestyle choices down pat.”

“Your work dads got you tickets to the Graduation Concert Festival,” he said, handing her an envelope and ignoring the declaration about Jasper. “My parents got you a kitchen set for your post graduation apartment… Well… actually, my Cousin Blobbin did, but it was my mom’s idea. Cookware and appliances!”

“That’s… nice!” She said. She had just realized that she hadn’t gotten anything for that, yet. Just an electric kettle, a spice rack, and whatever she was going to cop from her parents’ kitchen. This was a much better situation! She had a few more pretty great gifts that she appreciated, then they were down to the last few, which were all from Max. He sat down next to her and she set aside everything that she had and let him hold both of her hands, wondering why it got so serious all of a sudden.

“Charlotte… The past months that I’ve known you have been amazing to me. Even before we got together, just looking forward to experiencing and learning you everyday has been everything that I’ve ever wanted from another person. : Hesighed and looked at their hands, “I’m officially scheduled to go to Russia for three years.” His shoulders sank. “And I know that you plan to visit and that we plan to continue long distance, but that’s still so tentative for me and scary - the thought of you being tasked with waiting on me to come back. But…” He looked over at the counter and floated something to himself, “If you want, you can stay in my comeback home.” He handed her a set of keys with a SuperMax keychain attached to it. “I know that you’ve been looking for apartments and this is actually a house, but…”

“You are asking me to move in with you for 3 years from now?” She asked.

“No! I’m asking you to move in now and get comfortable and make it your own, then whenever I’m back… we can get used to living together again, and you’ll already be set.” Her eyes widened, “But, if you don’t want to, I understand! We haven’t even been together for a year and who knows how Russia will change us.” He pressed a button on the remote on her keys and a holographic image of the house projected from it, “But, if you want to, I’m welcoming you to.” It was an elevated house on top of pillars, a garden with stair rails on either side and a carport. “And you’ll have full access to my underground lab and lair.”

“This is a super cute house,” she said, in a tiny voice. “And a very sweet notion. I’ll… think about it…” Sensibly, she and Max had not been together long enough for this move, but also, their circumstances were special. They lived together already, basically, and their timeline was rushed for a number of reasons… But, just living with him alone, and actually moving in and keeping it while he was on tour was… a lot that she had to rationally comb through. He understood, and was grateful that she didn’t flat out say no and tell him that he was crazy for thinking she’d even want to.

“On a lighter note!” He changed the subject, “I present to you, some of my most inspired works of art…” He gave her a portfolio of several portraits that he had done of her, some very casual and cool, some extremely detailed and graphic, some as herself, some reimagined in other forms and styles. “They’re mostly from the pining days,” he said, bashfully. “But, I’m working on a big piece to hang in the comeback house.” She flipped through pages of her face, beautifully rendered and covered her heart.

“These are really good, Max.”

“I usually just draw project schematics and costumes, but I was having a phase where every time I tried, I had to draw you first, or I’d be distracted the whole time.

“I love it.”

“I figured that I did need to get you a REAL gift, though, so…” He reached for a jewelry box and opened it. It looked elegant, like fine jewelry - a set with a necklace, earrings, bracelet and a ring. “Shapeshifting jewelry!”

“I’m sorry, what kind?”

He put the ring onto his pinky, because it would not fit anywhere else and it lit up, then it reformed itself, unbuilding and then rebuilding to look like a skull and crossbones ring. She gasped. “It scans your body and gets a record of your outfit and accommodates it. Very fun technology to have.” He took it off and handed it back. She put it on her ring finger and once again, it reformed and became a cute, thin band with a tiny pink jewel.

“This is amazing! I’ve never seen it before.”

“Experimental tech being used for facial imagery reconstruction whenever supers get unmasked. I took the principles and put them in your jewelry!” He said, proud of himself. She was proud, too. She honestly had THEE BEST BOYFRIEND. “And, in case you felt like that was a little too much, or whatever, I have backup gifts of a simpler nature. There’s this coupon book of treats and services, yes several of them are sexual, because I made it and I can,” (she laughed) “There is this HUGE concentration candle, I mean… LOOK at this thing! Oh, and this.” He handed her some folded paper. “It’s a handwritten love letter, basically me being kind of a loser and telling you all of my feelings, but on paper, like a madman…”

“Yes,” she said, snatching it.

“Yes, I’m a madman?”

“No… Well… yes, but… yes, I’ll move into your comeback home after college graduation.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“To clarify… Was it the letter?”

“It was the… Max. You’re perfect, Dude. I just…” she shrugged and rested her head on him.

.

Whenever Charlotte made her way to the Man Cave, she heard the hijinks as soon as she stepped off of the elevator, and what she saw was four grown men and a young girl all fussing and covered in cake. “Did any of you save any cake?” She called from the elevator. They didn’t stop fussing or even seem to hear or notice her, so she looked around and saw a plate wrapped in saran wrap with assorted slices of cake, “I’m gonna presume that this is mine and leave with it if nobody notices that I’m here!” she called out. They were still fussing at each other and then Ray slapped Jasper in the face with a glob of icing, to which, Jasper growled and charged him and Schwoz, Henry and Piper, began to try to break it up, but all that could be seen was cake and icing flying everywhere. Charlotte left and whenever she did, she heard as the elevator door was closing, “Did any of you hear Charlotte’s voice?”

“Nice try, Henry! You don’t get away from this that easily!” Piper screamed.

“I honestly don’t want to know,” Charlotte told herself. But, she honestly did, too.

Shortly before Midnight, whenever she came back, everything was cleaned up and she announced, “Bringing back the plate!”

“SURPRISE!” Everyone jumped out and screamed, making her scream and drop the plate which shattered on the floor.

They ignored it and began to sing the happy birthday song to her, gathered around a cake platter that Schwoz was holding, only it had an amorphous cake on it, and could hardly hold the candles. It looked like a disaster from a cartoon. She blew out the candles and looked at them, suspiciously, “So, is this the only cake? What happened to the bake off?”

“Bake off?” Ray repeated. “We don’t have to prove that any of us are any better than the others. Besides, it’s YOUR birthday! Today was about you.”

“Did you all fight the entire time, have a huge cake fight, then gather up which pieces of cake that you could and cover it in icing to present as my birthday cake?” Everyone’s face showed that they were caught! That was EXACTLY what had happened. But Ray scoffed and said, “No! And quite frankly Charlotte, it is insulting that you would accuse us of such…”

“I saw you earlier. I took that plate of cake,” she pointed to the broken plate on the floor.

Henry began to fuss about how HE KNEW he’d heard her voice earlier, while Ray was fussing about the broken plate and Jasper was asking which cake was the best. Upon hearing that question, they all became more interested in that, “Yeah, which one? Which? Huh? Bet it was mine…”

“Ummm… they were all actually delicious, but I preferred the lemon one…”

“YES!” Jasper cheered and began to gloat in everybody’s face. “Max liked the chocolate one that tasted like a 5 year old just threw all their favorite things into a cake.”

“I TOLD ALL OF YOU THAT I AM THE CAKE COMMANDO!” Ray yelled. She figured that was his, because it was just a bunch of different chocolate things in a cake - chocolate cookie crumbles, chocolate chips, chocolate candy - she felt sick after one bite of that.

“Yeah, well, he’s probably gonna order one for his dad’s birthday.”

“Thunder Man? He’s still alive?” Ray asked.

Piper asked, “So… you didn’t like the pineapple right side up cake?”

“I did.”

“The chocolate covered strawberry cake was a delicious masterpiece!” Henry fussed.

“It was.”

Schwoz offered, “I think that you may have misjudged the dreamsicle and pickle cake.”

“I did not misjudge it, because I didn’t know what it was and refused to try it. Max said that he didn’t know how it worked, but it somehow did.”

SHe held out her hands, “I enjoyed everybody’s cake…” She pointed at Schwoz,’ “Except for yours.”

“Awwww,” he said, crestfallen.

“But, Jasper asked which one I thought was best and…”

“And she said it without much of a thought that she preferred the lemon icebox layered sponge cake with whipped white chocolate cream cheese icing. TOLD. YOU. GUYS!” He fist bumped her and she just laughed a little bit.

Henry commented, “I got beat with an egg beater for nothing.

“Not for nothing!” Charlotte said. “I completely want that chocolate covered strawberries cake programmed into the auto snacker for my next monthly.”

“My dreamsicle and pickle cake was the only one that used organic ingredients,” Schwoz pouted.

“I will NEVER try it. You won’t EVER tell me anything to make me try a Dreamsicle and pickle cake, Schwoz!” Charlotte said.

Jasper said, “Well… I’m gonna have some of this birthday cake,” and grabbed a plate and the cake cutter.

“Cut me a piece, too!” Henry asked. They all sat down and had a plate with fallen pieces of their various cakes on it and turned on a movie to watch.

“This was actually my best birthday in a while,” Charlotte noted. She didn’t need to go into detail about Max and how perfect he was. Her friends were all happy and full of cake and even that, in it’s own way, was equally as perfect.

[neshabeingchildish]

Thunderstruck Birthday Girl

This is basically just self indulgent Charlotte love showering. I generally write Charlotte as an April Taurus, because of when her birthday episode aired, so I figured this is around the time that I can just do a little cute, fun, show of love and stuff, and also give her a chance to get some nice things. It is mostly just filler, but does have at least one important piece of story and I’ll get back to the crucial parts with the next installment. Tagging, so I don’t get fussed at lol @kiddangers @adorkable-blackgirl @chenoahchantel @famousflowermagazine I THINK that’s it? Sorry if there was someone else.

Share-a-Lair 16

Charlotte liked a lowkey birthday. Usually, she had brunch and cake with her parents and spent it with the guys in the evening. This year, Max made a bunch of plans for her, and she was curious to see how well he would do with this, so she planned to have brunch with her parents and told the guys that she would touch base with them later in the night. At some point during making plans, the boys got competitive via casual conversation and so she was told that they were going to have a bake off and that as the birthday girl, she would be able to determine who baked the best cake. “So, you’re gonna have like four cakes?” Max asked.

“Knowing the guys, not a single one of the cakes that they plan on making will make it, whether due to calamity or them just eating all of the cake.” But, if there was cake, she was definitely having some of each. 

After brunch, Max picked her up from the bistro, not really being that concerned that she wasn’t introducing him to her parents yet. He got a glimpse of them hugging her before leaving and they seemed extremely intimidating. He already didn’t like parents and hers were both successful in their own right and high maintenance from what he understood. Even the bistro that they were at was an exclusive place. Each guest had a personal server, and whenever the Pages came through, their Jamaican chef was given access to the kitchen to prepare their meals for special occasions. This morning, Charlotte had been presented with an authentic Jamaican breakfast and bottomless brunch drinks. Max couldn’t recall ever having had a brunch, much less one in an exclusive bistro, with a personal chef, personal server, and access to all of the bar. 

Superhero life paid extremely well, but it was more of a trade off, since one’s body and health was on the line with each mission. Charlotte’s father was a physicist and spent more time working than he did at home. Her mother was a college chancellor and was home just as much as her husband, even though her job was only about an hour away. They tried to make up for the blank spaces with extravagant gifts and expensive celebrations, but Charlotte was simply always happy just to be able to see both of them at once for a little bit of time, even though half of it was generally spent with her having to update them on exactly how her educational career was going and have enough accolades and credentials to account for the time she couldn’t tell them about as a hero’s tech specialist. Learning that made Max understand her overachiever complex a little bit better, but he wanted the rest of her birthday to be as relaxing and rewarding as possible.

He took the scenic route back to the lair and she leaned her seat back and rested, watching everything and listening to a playlist that he made for her. He had several. One for when she goes to sleep, one for her workday, one for when she studied, etc. This one was one that he made for car trips with her. One of his favorite things about doing stuff for her was that she always noticed. The first time he’d made her a playlist, she’d said, “You had to have made this thing specifically for me, right?” He wanted to deny it, but noticed how excited that made her and confessed. It was an amazing feeling to do something for someone special and have them not only not take it for granted, but to really appreciate it. Max didn’t always receive that from his loved ones, but he usually did from Charlotte. He was confident that she was going to LOVE her birthday time with him.

She liked being around a lot of people less than he did. So, where he might be down for a party with his friends and loved ones, she was more like her family was over here for this amount of time, and her friends over there, for that amount of time. Everything and everybody had their time and place. 

But, she told him not too long ago, “I never get tired of being around you though. It’s like… you’re practically a part of me.” She said it all casually, matter of factly. He couldn’t even hear her emotion in it, but he definitely started crying. Then there was this whole thing where she thought that maybe she said the wrong thing and tried to comfort him and apologize and explain better, “I’m not saying that you aren’t your own person or anything, just that like… my life is comfortable no matter how much of you is in it…” He had to compose himself to let her know that he was happy to hear it, not upset. He also apologized for crying, because damn… that couldn’t be sexy. Turns out, it was… as long as it’s warranted and not over every little thing! So, that was bonus scores for him.

.

Max made Henry “be scarce” from the lair for today, which was fine by him, because he had to “Serve these fools in the cakes department, anyway!” And Max just… Didn’t even WANT to know what that meant, but was relieved to later find out that it was about baking cakes and not the booty shaking contest that his brain automatically convinced him it would be. So, whenever Charlotte walked in and the place was set up like a spa, she gasped. “What’s happening?”

“You always want to grab a spa day, but you’ve cancelled like a dozen times because of work demands. So, I set up a home spa day for you… I did get funding from Dr. Page and Dr. Page, but they knew that you deserved it and since Henry asked, they just wired it to your birthday fund.”

“You and Henry got money from my parents for a birthday spa day for me?”

“I sent Henry to get money, yes. Is that alright?”

She covered her face, “That is SO SWEET! They could have eaten him alive. They’re very inquisitive people.”

“I sent him with an outline of all of the plans,” he said, with a shrug.

“You know me so well that you know how my parents are, even though I haven’t introduced you yet!” She was thunderstruck. He took her bags and handed her a robe and slippers…

After her spa treatment day, complete with Max playing guitar and singing her some songs during interludes while she waited for something to dry or settle, or whatever, she felt brand new. She hadn’t realized how stressed she’d been, even though Max does stuff for her whenever he can, she obviously had still been hella stressed out - probably because of Russia, graduation, Jasper and Henry, spa days being cancelled… But, she NEEDED this and Max giving her what she needed, right on time? She would miss that when he was gone. Now, she was sad for a moment.

“Time for gift presentation!” He said, distracting her from missing him before he was gone. She perked up, skin radiant, silky smooth curls popping, and her smile beaming. She was still in her robe and had her spa day swag bag next to her, which were packages of the products used today in her spa day treatment and also products from the spa that supplied the materials. “First of all, we have…” he spun his finger around and the kitchen island rotated to reveal where he had hidden all of her gifts, apparently (and she had forgotten that this lair had many secret areas, but he obviously hadn’t). He reached for a huge bag and beckoned it to her. “From the Hart household, warmth and comfort in the form of new silk sheets and pillowcases, plus fuzzy blankets and bamboo pillows!” 

“YES!” She had been saying she needed these forever, but not getting around to ordering any because other stuff seemed more important everything she thought about it. She LIVED for luxury, though, she often talked herself out of it. 

“From Henry, himself, an assortment of fine chocolates, a wine drinking accessories set, and a collection of gourmet cheeses.”

“Ooooh… He must’ve gone into his hero funds for this!” She said, pulling things out of Henry’s gift bag.

“He did!” Max cheered. “Jasper got you…” He gave her the bucket, wrapped kind of like an Easter basket, “A stationary pail.” There was something weird in his voice. He probably had asked Jasper to get something else and Jasper was having none of it. 

She opened it to see a personal planner, a personalized pen and journal set, scented stickers, sticky pads, etc and she squealed. “He got them to match the scheme of my home office whenever I set up my new place after college!” Max furrowed his eyebrows and she explained, “You see, Max… You are very smart and pay attention to detail, but Jasper has known me for a really long time and sometimes has even the most menial of my lifestyle choices down pat.”

“Your work dads got you tickets to the Graduation Concert Festival,” he said, handing her an envelope and ignoring the declaration about Jasper. “My parents got you a kitchen set for your post graduation apartment… Well… actually, my Cousin Blobbin did, but it was my mom’s idea. Cookware and appliances!” 

“That’s… nice!” She said. She had just realized that she hadn’t gotten anything for that, yet. Just an electric kettle, a spice rack, and whatever she was going to cop from her parents’ kitchen. This was a much better situation! She had a few more pretty great gifts that she appreciated, then they were down to the last few, which were all from Max. He sat down next to her and she set aside everything that she had and let him hold both of her hands, wondering why it got so serious all of a sudden.

“Charlotte… The past months that I’ve known you have been amazing to me. Even before we got together, just looking forward to experiencing and learning you everyday has been everything that I’ve ever wanted from another person. : Hesighed and looked at their hands, “I’m officially scheduled to go to Russia for three years.” His shoulders sank. “And I know that you plan to visit and that we plan to continue long distance, but that’s still so tentative for me and scary - the thought of you being tasked with waiting on me to come back. But…” He looked over at the counter and floated something to himself, “If you want, you can stay in my comeback home.” He handed her a set of keys with a SuperMax keychain attached to it. “I know that you’ve been looking for apartments and this is actually a house, but…”

“You are asking me to move in with you for 3 years from now?” She asked.

“No! I’m asking you to move in now and get comfortable and make it your own, then whenever I’m back… we can get used to living together again, and you’ll already be set.” Her eyes widened, “But, if you don’t want to, I understand! We haven’t even been together for a year and who knows how Russia will change us.” He pressed a button on the remote on her keys and a holographic image of the house projected from it, “But, if you want to, I’m welcoming you to.” It was an elevated house on top of pillars, a garden with stair rails on either side and a carport. “And you’ll have full access to my underground lab and lair.” 

“This is a super cute house,” she said, in a tiny voice. “And a very sweet notion. I’ll… think about it…” Sensibly, she and Max had not been together long enough for this move, but also, their circumstances were special. They lived together already, basically, and their timeline was rushed for a number of reasons… But, just living with him alone, and actually moving in and keeping it while he was on tour was… a lot that she had to rationally comb through. He understood, and was grateful that she didn’t flat out say no and tell him that he was crazy for thinking she’d even want to.

“On a lighter note!” He changed the subject, “I present to you, some of my most inspired works of art…” He gave her a portfolio of several portraits that he had done of her, some very casual and cool, some extremely detailed and graphic, some as herself, some reimagined in other forms and styles. “They’re mostly from the pining days,” he said, bashfully. “But, I’m working on a big piece to hang in the comeback house.” She flipped through pages of her face, beautifully rendered and covered her heart.

“These are really good, Max.”

“I usually just draw project schematics and costumes, but I was having a phase where every time I tried, I had to draw you first, or I’d be distracted the whole time.

“I love it.”

“I figured that I did need to get you a REAL gift, though, so…” He reached for a jewelry box and opened it. It looked elegant, like fine jewelry - a set with a necklace, earrings, bracelet and a ring. “Shapeshifting jewelry!” 

“I’m sorry, what kind?”

He put the ring onto his pinky, because it would not fit anywhere else and it lit up, then it reformed itself, unbuilding and then rebuilding to look like a skull and crossbones ring. She gasped. “It scans your body and gets a record of your outfit and accommodates it. Very fun technology to have.” He took it off and handed it back. She put it on her ring finger and once again, it reformed and became a cute, thin band with a tiny pink jewel. 

“This is amazing! I’ve never seen it before.”

“Experimental tech being used for facial imagery reconstruction whenever supers get unmasked. I took the principles and put them in your jewelry!” He said, proud of himself. She was proud, too. She honestly had THEE BEST BOYFRIEND. “And, in case you felt like that was a little too much, or whatever, I have backup gifts of a simpler nature. There’s this coupon book of treats and services, yes several of them are sexual, because I made it and I can,” (she laughed) “There is this HUGE concentration candle, I mean… LOOK at this thing! Oh, and this.” He handed her some folded paper. “It’s a handwritten love letter, basically me being kind of a loser and telling you all of my feelings, but on paper, like a madman…” 

“Yes,” she said, snatching it.

“Yes, I’m a madman?”

“No… Well… yes, but… yes, I’ll move into your comeback home after college graduation.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

“To clarify… Was it the letter?”

“It was the... Max. You’re perfect, Dude. I just…” she shrugged and rested her head on him. 

.

Whenever Charlotte made her way to the Man Cave, she heard the hijinks as soon as she stepped off of the elevator, and what she saw was four grown men and a young girl all fussing and covered in cake. “Did any of you save any cake?” She called from the elevator. They didn’t stop fussing or even seem to hear or notice her, so she looked around and saw a plate wrapped in saran wrap with assorted slices of cake, “I’m gonna presume that this is mine and leave with it if nobody notices that I’m here!” she called out. They were still fussing at each other and then Ray slapped Jasper in the face with a glob of icing, to which, Jasper growled and charged him and Schwoz, Henry and Piper, began to try to break it up, but all that could be seen was cake and icing flying everywhere. Charlotte left and whenever she did, she heard as the elevator door was closing, “Did any of you hear Charlotte’s voice?”

“Nice try, Henry! You don’t get away from this that easily!” Piper screamed. 

“I honestly don’t want to know,” Charlotte told herself. But, she honestly did, too.

Shortly before Midnight, whenever she came back, everything was cleaned up and she announced, “Bringing back the plate!” 

“SURPRISE!” Everyone jumped out and screamed, making her scream and drop the plate which shattered on the floor. 

They ignored it and began to sing the happy birthday song to her, gathered around a cake platter that Schwoz was holding, only it had an amorphous cake on it, and could hardly hold the candles. It looked like a disaster from a cartoon. She blew out the candles and looked at them, suspiciously, “So, is this the only cake? What happened to the bake off?”

“Bake off?” Ray repeated. “We don’t have to prove that any of us are any better than the others. Besides, it’s YOUR birthday! Today was about you.”

“Did you all fight the entire time, have a huge cake fight, then gather up which pieces of cake that you could and cover it in icing to present as my birthday cake?” Everyone’s face showed that they were caught! That was EXACTLY what had happened. But Ray scoffed and said, “No! And quite frankly Charlotte, it is insulting that you would accuse us of such…”

“I saw you earlier. I took that plate of cake,” she pointed to the broken plate on the floor.

Henry began to fuss about how HE KNEW he’d heard her voice earlier, while Ray was fussing about the broken plate and Jasper was asking which cake was the best. Upon hearing that question, they all became more interested in that, “Yeah, which one? Which? Huh? Bet it was mine…” 

“Ummm… they were all actually delicious, but I preferred the lemon one…”

“YES!” Jasper cheered and began to gloat in everybody’s face. “Max liked the chocolate one that tasted like a 5 year old just threw all their favorite things into a cake.”

“I TOLD ALL OF YOU THAT I AM THE CAKE COMMANDO!” Ray yelled. She figured that was his, because it was just a bunch of different chocolate things in a cake - chocolate cookie crumbles, chocolate chips, chocolate candy - she felt sick after one bite of that.

“Yeah, well, he’s probably gonna order one for his dad’s birthday.”

“Thunder Man? He’s still alive?” Ray asked. 

Piper asked, “So… you didn’t like the pineapple right side up cake?”

“I did.”

“The chocolate covered strawberry cake was a delicious masterpiece!” Henry fussed.

“It was.”

Schwoz offered, “I think that you may have misjudged the dreamsicle and pickle cake.”

“I did not misjudge it, because I didn’t know what it was and refused to try it. Max said that he didn’t know how it worked, but it somehow did.”

SHe held out her hands, “I enjoyed everybody’s cake…” She pointed at Schwoz,’ “Except for yours.”

“Awwww,” he said, crestfallen.

“But, Jasper asked which one I thought was best and…”

“And she said it without much of a thought that she preferred the lemon icebox layered sponge cake with whipped white chocolate cream cheese icing. TOLD. YOU. GUYS!” He fist bumped her and she just laughed a little bit.

Henry commented, “I got beat with an egg beater for nothing.

“Not for nothing!” Charlotte said. “I completely want that chocolate covered strawberries cake programmed into the auto snacker for my next monthly.” 

“My dreamsicle and pickle cake was the only one that used organic ingredients,” Schwoz pouted.

“I will NEVER try it. You won’t EVER tell me anything to make me try a Dreamsicle and pickle cake, Schwoz!” Charlotte said. 

Jasper said, “Well… I’m gonna have some of this birthday cake,” and grabbed a plate and the cake cutter. 

“Cut me a piece, too!” Henry asked. They all sat down and had a plate with fallen pieces of their various cakes on it and turned on a movie to watch. 

“This was actually my best birthday in a while,” Charlotte noted. She didn’t need to go into detail about Max and how perfect he was. Her friends were all happy and full of cake and even that, in it’s own way, was equally as perfect.

[theopentable]

Resurrection Community: Big-Picture Atheists

1 PETER 4:1-6

How do exiles and misfits live on the other side of Christ’s suffering and vindication? What does that mean for human lives? And how might that be different from their former lives? For Peter there’s a “full stop” on former lives characterised by sinful desires – there’s already been enough time spent on doing what the Gentiles like to do - living in licentiousness, passions, drunkenness, revels, carousing, and lawless idolatry (v3). Peter understands that non-participation in these behaviours will raise eye-brows among former contemporaries which means that this kind of behaviour was clearly par for the course. That’s where it’s helpful to peel back the historical layers, at least as much as we’re able, to broaden our picture of early Christianity in the Roman world.

You raised eye-brows and drew the ire of your contemporaries by failing to undertake your basic civic responsibilities of honouring the various deities. There were oodles of deities in Peter’s times, each with their own purposes and functions, limited only by human imagination. What mattered to people was the conviction that these deities were essential to the wellbeing of the people. Failing to honour the various deities could incur the wrath of the gods and undermine the prosperity of the city. Which was the big problem with these Christians. They were atheists who threatened the common good by refusing to join in the deity-honouring activities that all good citizens took seriously. You would therefore be maligned and abused (3:16-17), you would provoke surprise and blasphemy (4:4). This is a major reason why Peter’s audience were looked down upon and shunned.

One popular cult, among the various cults to the mystery deities, was the cult of Dionysus, which was known to the Romans as Bacchus, the deity of wine and “the good life.” This is a depiction of a young Bacchus, riding a creepy tiger-lion while vomiting into a bucket on the edge of some cavernous hole:

Bacchus was honoured in festive social events to ensure good harvest, and in turn, profitable business. But, as Bruce Longnecker articulates, at times this Bacchic devotion was taken to quite another level:

‘Meeting to enjoy the Bacchic mysteries, groups would celebrate in a fashion that usually involved drunkenness, perhaps punctuated by ecstatic frenzy interpreted as spiritual enlightenment. Sometimes this went hand in hand with “sexual debauchery” (in which case, there may not have been a lot of “moral transformation” going on, at least in the Judeo-Christian sense of that term). With the assistance of wine, the devotees of Bacchus considered themselves to be entering into mystical union with the deity, perhaps precisely through such apparently liberating acts of self-release that broke the boundaries of usual decorum and were powered by a brute animalistic drive. Bacchus was thought to induce madness in his devotees during their celebrations, with wine helping to liberate the mind from the constraints normally placed on it and freeing the spirit to encounter the deity. These activities were seen as enabling Bacchus-devotees to enter progressively further into the revelation of his mysteries and to tap into the primal forces and primordial powers that flowed through him.’[1]

One ancient source gives some examples of what took place at such events:

‘From the time when the rites were held promiscuously, with men and women mixed together, and when the license offered by darkness had been added, no sort of crime, no kind of immorality, was left unattempted. There were more obscenities practiced between men than between men and women. Anyone refusing to submit to outrage or reluctant to commit crimes was slaughtered as a sacrificial victim. To regard nothing as forbidden was among these people the summit of religious achievement.’[2]

Here’s another depiction of a woman in spiritual rapture unveiling a phallus as part of a Bacchus party:

The very term “Dionysian” in modern usage paints a reasonable picture:

Dionysian

[ dahy-uh-nish-uh n, -nis-ee-uh n, -nahy-see- ]

adjective

1 of, relating to, or honouring Dionysus or Bacchus.

2 recklessly uninhibited; unrestrained; undisciplined; frenzied; orgiastic.[3]

That last list of descriptors there looks like a reasonable summary of Peter’s list of things to avoid:

licentiousness[4], passions[5], drunkenness[6], revelling[7], carousing[8], and lawless idolatry.[9]

Clearly Peter’s list has a lot of overlap with the Bacchic celebrations. Peter is urging members of these resurrection-communities to withdraw from participation in cults honouring the various deities despite the outrage it would raise amongst their contemporaries. 

Our own times are quite different to the world Peter writes from but we have our own “gods and goddesses of the good life.” 

We have our own “deities” that hold before us promises of life and salvation. The contemporary pantheon includes the gods of militarism and nationalism; the deities of consumer capitalism, hedonism, the entertainment industry and the Zeus-like presence of the global market. 

We come before them, mostly innocently, carrying with us our desires, our hopes, all bundled up in our human need, fear, pain and ignorance. We are confronted with a thousand different programs for happiness and we hope each one of them might come good for us, might make our lives better, might be the medicine our souls long for. Our deepest yearnings frustrated we try ever harder, desperate for connection, desperate for something that ‘will never let us down, something all-powerful, all-nurturing, truly liberating.’[10] But the old deities only become overgrown attachments delivering finite returns on infinite longings. 

Worse still, when we come before these false-gods again and again we become like them. We become what we worship. Less divine, less alive, less human - riddled with addictive energy instead of the divine image-bearing creativity we were born for. Resurrection communities refuse to be co-opted, conscripted, claimed by no-gods that can only offer an imitation of life. Which will confuse and even offend the sensibilities of others because false-god-allegiance regularly comes in the guise of “the common good” or simply “the way things are.” Which is when we are supposed to accept a world with crippling poverty and injustice, a world that factors in things like homelessness as normal. Violence as normal. Greed. Destruction of the very planet we rely on to sustain our lives. 

This is the small picture. Resurrection communities live within a larger picture that knows that love wins, that mercy and righteousness will embrace, and that anything that diminishes or opposes life will not last the distance. In the big picture, we all come before him - before Christ, the one who ‘stands ready to judge the living and the dead’ (v5) We come before him, with those desires, hopes, and the rest and he invites us to share in resurrection, living in the Spirit, encountering the grace we long for in the deepest parts of out beings, participating in divine life itself (v6). That’s the big picture.

[1] Bruce Longnecker, In Stone and Story: Early Christianity in the Roman World (2020), p.96

[2] Ibid., p.97

[3] https://www.dictionary.com/browse/dionysian

[4] immoderate conduct (aselgeiais). ‘The noun aselgeia denotes libertine behavior lacking moral restraint such as wanton violence or insolence, dissoluteness, debauchery, licentiousness, including transgression of sexual norms.’ Elliott, J. H. (2008). 1 Peter: a new translation with introduction and commentary (Vol. 37B, pp. 722–725). New Haven; London: Yale University Press.

[5] selfish cravings (epithymiais).‘The noun epithymia…denotes physical appetites and cravings…focused on self-indulgence, including but not restricted to sexual desire.’ (Ibid.)

[6] drunkenness (oinophlygiais). ‘This and the following two terms concern vices of immoderation connected with dining and drinking... It is a composite of oinos (“wine”) and phlygia (from phylyō, “boil over,” “overflow”) and, akin to the adjective oinophlyx (“given to drinking,” “drunken”), denotes excessive indulgence in wine: “winebibbing,” “boozing.”’ (Ibid.)

[7] reveling (kōmois). ‘The noun kōmos originally denoted a festal procession in honor of Dionysus, the god of wine, and then a meal or banquet... The reveling of which the Petrine author speaks thus may well imply “drunken orgies” and carousing associated with the notorious Dionysian feasts.’ (Ibid.)

[8] carousing (potois). ‘The noun potos (lit., “drinking,” “drinking parties”) occurs only here in the NT but belongs to the same semantic field as the two preceding vices and elsewhere is also linked with kōmos. All three Petrine terms pertain to the dissolute carousing typical of the Gentile occasions of feasting and drinking, from which Christians are to distance themselves.’ (Ibid.)

[9] lawless idolatries (kai athemitois eidōlolatriais).‘This concluding phrase, an apparently Christian formulation found only here and in subsequent Christian writings, reveals the Christian perspective according to which this enumeration of vices is presented. By the word “idolatries” (eidōlolatriais), the author could have in mind the libations made to Dionysus/Bacchus, the god of wine, in the context of meals and drinking bouts (cf. 1 Cor 8:4–13 and 10:14–22 for idolatry in conjunction with meals)... In its present final and emphatic position here in v 3, “idolatries” serves to summarize in one condemning expression the futility and fatuity of life lived in opposition to God.’ (Ibid.)

[10] Richard Rohr, “Expressions of Divine Love.” https://cac.org/expressions-of-divine-love-2019-12-18/

[parkerpeterholland]

12 days of Christmas history pagan holidays vs Christian

Merry Christmas Wishes To you from our team. Enjoy Reading!

The number twelve has an abnormal essentialness in the retribution of time:

There are twelve sun powered months, relating generally to twelve zodiacal houses along the sun's ecliptic way. In the Christian legend, Christ is trailed by 12 missionaries.

There are customarily twelve 'hours' of sunshine, as figured by sun-dials, and subsequently we determine our twenty four hours of light and night which contain our unit of one sun powered 'day'. This is known as 'clear sun oriented time', when contrasted with the clock-time we will in general keep in current occasions, known as 'mean sun powered time'.

There is a distinction of around twelve days between the old 'Julian' and more up to date 'Gregorian' calendric frameworks being used in Europe and Asia Minor. These progressions were organized to counteract the festival of Easter (determined dependent on the Jewish Lunar schedule) from crawling further away from the Spring Equinox into summer.

There are twelve days denoting the conventional European and Eastern 'Christmas' or 'Yule' bubbly midwinter period… These were at times each viewed as speaking to a different month of the sun based year in numerous pre-present day European societies. Yuletide started at the winter solstice (approx. 22nd December) and completed on the third January, though Christmastide was from 25th December to sixth January (Revelation).

Starting points of Christmas Day

The foundation of the date of the Nativity celebration on the 25th December in Christianity was not in reality officially settled upon for a long time after the time of Jesus' alleged life and demise. In the late agnostic Roman Realm, the 25th day of December was praised as Natalis Invicti – the resurrection of the worshipped 'Unconquerable Sun' – Sol Invictus. In spite of the fact that presented as a late Supreme Clique under Aurelian in 274CE (250 years or so after the passing of Jesus) the religion of Sol Invictus was likely in light of the abundance of puzzle cliques all through the Roman Realm which utilized the iconography of a young sunlight based male god, apparently got from the more established delineations of more seasoned divine beings, for example, Apollo, Adonis and Attis. Adonis, etymologically in any event, seems to have a Semitic cause (think about Adonai – 'Master'). These had their causes in the standards of Sunlight based godhood connected to the extraordinary 'static' or 'authority' puzzle cliques of the first thousand years BCE: Those of Delian Apollo, Apollo at Delphi, Eleusis, Samothrace and the secrets of Cybele and Attis in Phrygia, among others. Such cliques by and large endless supply of land loci – fixed religion destinations – and the cooperation in initiatory custom for the reasons for either getting prophets, recuperating or higher information. They themselves may have created from prominent augmentations of the initially more firmly monitored internal puzzle ceremonial conventions encompassing the exclusive classes of rulers and religious hierophants of the prior 'palatial' societies (Minoan and Mycenaean), themselves duplicating the antiquated Mesopotamian and Egyptian societies, which are the most established for which we have proof, and were in coherence until in any event the beginning of the first thousand years CE.

Wars with Carthage and the extraordinary developments of the 'savage' Celts during Rome's Late Republican Period (c.3rdC BCE) prompted the importation of 'outside' riddle religions, for example, that of Cybele and her delighted ministers into Rome during the late Punic wars. Another well known elated religious puzzle faction was that of the Bacchanalia (Dionysia) from Greece. The Celtic obsession towards the sunlight based god Apollo (whom they knew as Belenos) made them really attack Greece and sack Delphi in 179BCE! These occasions, alongside Rome's expanding extension and social cooperation prompted the flood in prominence of riddle religions all in all during the late Republican period, to such an extent that by the 1stC CE Roman Sovereigns were themselves visiting Eleusis and Samothrace to move toward becoming starts. These cliques indicated to clarify the insider facts of the sun, the moon, the planets and stars and the most profound puzzles of nature, passing and recovery. Maybe obviously, the nurturing Sun was a key piece of this, and turned out to be a piece of another 'elementalism' and drive towards rearrangements and 'versatility' of folklore.

As the Roman and Greek social nations extended and thrived, initiatory puzzle religions turned out to be less a guilty pleasure of the elites, and furthermore less joined to fixed topographical areas, forming into a plenty of portable ideological 'establishments' delighted in by increasingly standard people. These very likely copied the insider facts and legendary systems of the more established 'official' puzzles whose (frequently well off) starts and suppliants should stay discreet on torment of death or profound torment, and such secrets were bit by bit purchased out beyond all detectable inhibitions and talked about and conjectured over. This procedure was helped by the dissemination of education and the spread of and improvement of the thoughts of the 'Thinkers 'of traditional and Greek time 'Magna Graecia' who tried to examine the constancies and certainties behind old orally-transmitted folklore.

A genuine case of such reductionist procedures at their apotheosis are the 'Hermetic' and 'Gnostic' religions in Hellenized Asia Minor, Center East and North Africa, of which Christianity was to develop as an early branch inside the irritable and millenarianist Hasmonean-time Jewish world with its critical diaspora. These utilized Pythagorean, Non-romantic and Luxurious reductionist speculations and a talk including the standards of the spirit as a type of undying light in their prophetic religious stories, scarcely concealing such thoughts behind the character accounts of more established folklores.

Such express intellectualism was not to everybody's taste, obviously, and other increasingly semiotic types of riddle factions dependent on custom, fantasy and imagery served the requirements of those with progressively conventional (less orientalised) tastes. Orphism was maybe the most seasoned and best-settled of these customs – conceivably the 'granddaddy' of all, with its inceptions in the primary portion of the first thousand years BCE in any event. Its starts looked to 'filter' themselves so as to accomplish a superior the great beyond. Mithraism was surely the most well known of the more up to date factions, spreading from Asia Minor into the most northern and western degrees of the Roman Realm between the first and third hundreds of years of the BC. Comparative famous secret religions based on the Thracian god Sabazios (a local relative of Dionysus) and European syncretic cliques including the Celtic divine beings, for example, that of the 'Danubian Horsemen' including Epona in Eastern and northern Europe, and an abundance of others all the more ineffectively comprehended because of scarcity of material proof. These all had the regular attribute of underscoring the situation of the characters of 'Sol' and 'Luna' in their iconography – nearly as an 'identification' of their 'puzzle' status.

A Roman alleviation delineating the feast of Sol, Luna and Mithras..

A wonderful case of a plaque delineating the 'Danubian Horsemen' and their focal goddess... apparently a rendition of Epona.

A plaque portraying the 'Danubian Horsemen' and their focal goddess (Epona): Sol Invictus rides his quadriga at the highest point of the picture, which manages the symbolism of the religion's riddles.

Sol and Luna remain above Sabazios in this cultic Roman plaque

A coin of Ruler Constantine I who changed over to Christianity and took the Realm with him. The delineation on the front-side is of Sol Invictus.

The revered sun was conflated in this time with the more established Greek god Apollo, whose character was supported by the Romanised Celtic people groups from the Danube bowl to the Atlantic northwest of Europe, in their very own syncretic religions. Such religions all through the Domain had uprooted those of the more established Capitoline and Olympian Roman and Greek gods among the all inclusive communities, in spite of the fact that these still had a metro task to carry out.

Maybe the most significant, mainstream and long-running faction of the senior Greek divine beings was that of Dionysus, whose most established celebration – the Country Dionysia – concurred with the time of the winter solstice whose Greek month was named out of appreciation for the antiquated ocean god: Poseidonia. This was a celebration of sprucing up in the pretense of the entourage of the god: men as satyrs or silenoi and ladies as maenads. It was additionally, essentially, a celebration of the revelation of Dionysus to humanity, which praised the god's transubstantiation of water into wine and the riddles of growing nature: topics clearly acquired into later christianity. At Delphi, there was a custom that Apollo left to live among the Hyperboreans during the month when Dionysus showed among the individuals at this celebration, at which there was much singing of famous tunes by all classes in Greek society – a convention getting by in the cutting edge European Christmas singing merriments.

After the third century CE the ascent of heathen, proficient, literalised and intellectualized religious propensities in the Hellenized Eastern Domain and North Africa was progressively to obscure the western conventions of baffling non-literal folklore, which had been at the foundation of European religion for centuries. Apollo, Sol, Belenos, Attis, Dionysus and Adonis progressed toward becoming 'Logos' – supplanted by a scholarly man-god who professed to be 'the light of the world', promising – as an end-result of a vow of loyalty – 'recovery' after death into a perfect eternity, safe from the disarray of life. The ideal model of altruistic Majestic power truth be told.

[hotshotblackburn]

Spoiler Alert: the following is some Real Fallen London Crack Theorizing and is probably completely nullified by some bit of writing that I don’t remember or know about. It’s about the Masters of the Bazaar, and the Sins of the Masters, and Secret Masters, and Seeking, and why false-winter in Fallen London must be godawful because it looks like snow but it smells like ammonia and rotting fish. Or something like that. Anyways, lot of lore spoilers below the cut about the Masters.

Okay so first off, sins of the Masters. If you haven’t read them, here’s the link: https://www.failbettergames.com/a-secret-about-the-masters/

There’s eleven of these bad boys recorded (”eleven pilgrims who travelled from a cold and windy waste“), and Failbetter has confirmed in the past there are eleven Masters currently operating in London (with a few weird ones): Wines, Veils, Stones, Spices, Pages, Fires, Irons, Cups, Mirrors, Apples, and Hearts (with the weird ones being Chimes, Sacks, and Eaten)

Now, Seeking spoilers: Eaten was not always Eaten. His name will not be said here, but suffice to say he too was once a pilgrim from on high. He is clearly not one of the eleven Masters currently operating in London, but he is one of the eleven Masters that apparently came from the Wilderness. So we have Wines, Veils, Spices, Pages, Fires, Irons, Cups, Mirrors, Apples, Hearts, Stones and REDACTED as our merry band of bats. That makes twelve (perhaps one goes unnoticed, and so only eleven are seen)

But wait! As it turns out from Nemesis (spoilers) and some other sources (spoilers?), Mr Apples also trades as Mr Hearts. And Mr Cups is also Mr Mirrors. If these are different titles for the same bats, then we have Hearts/Apples, Cups/Mirrors, REDACTED, Wines, Veils, Spices, Pages, Stones, Irons, and Fires. Only ten bats, not eleven or twelve. And if we look at the Masters currently publically active in London, we have only nine, not eleven. Where are the missing two bats?

Well, you could always just count Apples/Hearts and Cups/Mirrors as two different Masters. That’s probably the sensible option. But that would be boring, and this is real crack theory hours, so I’m going to discard that idea (well, only partially for the second duo) and go with something much more wild...

...

...

...

Mr Chimes was originally a real Master and he became the first Mr Sacks. 

Okay, wait, hear me out before you leave.

So let’s consider our sins here, and where I initially placed the Masters: hoarding - Stones light-bringing - Fires impersonation, and the delivery of false testimony - Mirrors? (or perhaps Cups?) perpetration of the crimes of knife and of candle - Irons idleness, and the dwelling-on of dreams - Spices runtery, aberration, - REDACTED pursuit of a Treachery - Apples/Hearts failure and defeat; a fall from king to beggar - Wines glass-whispering. And worse: charity - Cups? (or perhaps Mirrors?) truth-strangling - Pages violation of the Order of Days, “which determines the hour of the hunt, the feast, the council, the bargain, and the slaughter” - Veils Others have said their interpretations, and you may have yours as well; I will not go too much into my reasons for why I assigned each of them as that is not the point of this crack theorizing. but consider the crudity with which Apples/Hearts are considered to be the same bat while Mirrors and Cups are given their own separate positions. Why would the latter be separate and the former the same? Why not the other way around? Or what if....

What if, originally, there was another Master? Let’s call them, hmmm...Chimes. Has a nice sound to it, eh? Eh? I’ll see myself out. 

Now there IS a Chimes in Fallen London! They preside over the House of Fallen Chimes, and while you can pay real world money to go visit their and interact with them and more money during Christmas I’m going to spoiler all that and say community knowledge is Chimes doesn’t exist. It’s just the other Masters pretending to be Chimes. Now (jumping ahead a bit) the same can be said for Mr Sacks. Mr Sacks is supposedly a series of beings based off the other Masters, although not them. So technically, Chimes does not exist and Sacks does not exist, they’re just roles put on by the others. 

BUT...let’s go back a bit. Let’s say there was, in fact, a Chimes. That allows us to solve for the Cups and Mirrors vs Hearts and Apples conundrum; Hearts and Apples are the same Master and treated as one bat/one sin, and Cups and Mirrors are also treated as the same Master with one bat/one sin (but what about King Twelve? Consider the nature of mirrors, and the nature of Beasts). Let us put Cups as being guilty of glass-whispering (and worse, charity). And Chimes? Chimes, well, that would make them guilty of impersonation, and the delivery of false testimony.

It fits, doesn’t it? Other Masters impersonate Chimes, but Chimes impersonated others. Perhaps he originally collected sound - the sound of music, and the sound of singing, and the sound of voices - and that allowed him to screech in a voice that was not his own. He could sound like Fires, or Spices, or Wines; he would have to learn Pages’ unique vocabulary and Irons’ handwriting, but this would not be out of the question. And this talent for impersonation...he could use it to pretend to be others. To speak as them. To speak for them. Impersonation, and false testimony. 

What happens next? The theory spirals from here. He could still be at the House of Chimes, pretending to be the others. But if that is the case, why do we see multiple Masters pretending to be Chimes during Christmastime? And why has it been made clear he is an unusual case? 

Which brings us to Sacks.

The subject of Nomen and the Crimson Beast of Winter is largely beyond the topic of this crack theory, except to say that they are made with blood and lacre and that it is quite possible to destroy the Sackses at Christmas without impeding the arrival of future Sackses. But consider that you can see a unique Noman within the Bazaar if you claim its unique Home Comfort at Christmastime. It is like no other Noman described. It is, to be fair, not really described like a Master...but considering I’ve written this much I really want to get the whole thing down so I’m not gonna let that stop me. 

What if that was the original Mr Sacks? The one that appeared from 2009-2011, before the Twelve Days of Mr Sacks? Chimes was an original Master, but he is no longer around. Sacks was not an original Master, yet something unique like him exists within the depths of the Bazaar. All the other Masters impersonate both, whether in the flesh or in the lacre. 

What if Mr Chimes died? Perhaps not died as we know, but effectively - lacre is *quite* final. Perhaps it was an accident; perhaps the Masters did not realize quite what lacre did to a body; perhaps it was merely the fortuitous occasion for a murder. Regardless, what if he died after being subsumed in lacre? Except instead of exploding, something happened that was...different. My theorizing falls short here. But something happened, perhaps, and although Mr Chimes died something else was born.

Mr Sacks, who demands gifts. HO HO HO.

This is a terrible mistake. Chimes is not the Runt, and he will be missed. There are certain procedures that must be followed. So rather than own to up to what might have been a mistake, or hide the existence of Chimes entirely, the rest of the Masters conceal it. Chimes had always been able to pretend to be them; why could the reverse not be true? So Mr Chimes lives as they always did, even though the title is little more than the other Masters taking turns to keep up the charade. And Mr Sacks, the mysterious Master who appeared at some point between arrival and the Fifth City, is explained away as just the Masters engaging in local festive traditions. Certainly their decision to create Nomen of themselves and send them out every year is their own decision, and not at all a coverup for the fact that one of their own who was actually necessary died. Mr Sacks’ opinions on all of this are mostly unexplored. 

(At some point Mr Mirrors also becomes a real thing, but the Mr Chimes/Mr Sacks thing is ridiculous enough as is without getting into mirrors and reality)

So there you have it. The original pilgrims from the Wilderness were Wines, Spices, Veils, Pages, Stones, Irons, Fires, Chimes, Hearts/Apples, Cups and REDACTED; eleven bats (though a Master who held domain over dreams and could see into the Is-Not might detect a certain shadow following Cups...if this shadow were its own being, would that not make them twelve instead?)

And now there are really eleven: Wines, Spices, Veils, Pages, Stones, Irons, Fires, Hearts/Apples, Cups/Mirrors, REDACTED/Eaten, and Chimes/Sacks. 

Yes, this all makes perfect sense. 110% Pure Canon, no doubt. 

TL;DR - Chimes was a real Master, they tripped and fell into a lacre pit and became the first Mr Sacks, because they were actually a big deal rather than an aberrant runt the other Masters have to pretend to be Chimes (and make their Nomen pretend to be Sacks) in order to avoid the Bazaar or the other immortals around asking awkward questions about internal affairs. No one notices this because the original Chimes/Sacks was really good at impersonating the personalities of others, which was why they were on this dumb mission to begin with.

[edennohebi]

The Winter Solstice Celebration

Some may have learned to fear the television buzzing to life while others will simply ignore it at their own expense ( Though it rarely does any good: Choices matter not here, & the snakes will force you to listen to their demands ), but the sing-song ‘hello’ from a lesser-heard voice does wonders to catch the attention & snap a soul up by the ear.

Your greeting comes from the Princess & the elder Prince rather than their progenitors -- & it seems in good spirits, which couldn’t mean anything other than something awful was bound to come… right?

“ Hellllooo -- can you hear me? Testing, one, two -- well, it’s not like you can answer back, huh? ”

“ Haa? You never know -- They may very well try to throw themselves through the screens one of these days. ”

“ Wuuh? No way! That’s like something from a horror movie Onii-chan, it’s not a fun thought at all! ”

“ Ne? & here I thought you’d enjoy something as gruesome as that,” His palms splay out as his shoulders rise & fall in a careless shrug, one that’s far too relaxed. “Oh well ~. ”

Maeru only offers a close-mouthed snicker in apparent amusement before crossing her arms & casting a pink-hued gaze camera-bound yet again. This banter between the two felt unprofessional, but at least the comedic value made it feel more like a light-hearted channel than two murderers running a podcast.

“ They’re not terrible , but creepy little kids are a whole different thing! But we’ve wasted enough time -- so guess what, guys~? ”

“ Though a Christmas celebration would be absolutely blasphemous for us lovely serpentine hosts, we ARE happy to introduce you all to our culture’s winter solstice celebration~! There’s nothing bad and you get to dress up too, so it’ll just be a nice break from all the torment you’ve been through lately ! -- Right, Onii-chan? ”

Although his eyes had rolled during Maeru’s monologue -- whether it be in genuine exasperation or harmless teasing between two siblings was unclear, & truthfully, didn’t matter all too much -- he offers the camera a much more coy, crooked grin and a narrowing of his eyes that was all too much like his father���s.

“ Right, right -- It really isn’t all too bad, you know. Celebrating death & being reborn certainly sounds grim to you humans, I’m sure, but any fear you all have is way too hypocritical! That is what your,” He waves a finger as his brows knit together. “ Own holidays celebrate, isn’t it? ” His shoulders raise in another shrug, & his head tilts to the side slightly. “But of course, who are you all to say no at the offer of food? There is a promised feast, drinks, & activities -- though I wouldn’t consider it kindness on our part. Just tradition. ”

“ Even so, this isn’t one of those things you’re FORCED into either -- so just come to Hanami Recital in Invidia if you want to have some fun & relax with your friends or get to know those who’re still strangers! We’ll play Three Kings to exchange gifts, decorate a tree, have a dance… it’ll be great~! That’s just the beginning of it too, so just come & see for yourself -- but bring a coat! Shiro is a good snow maker with a little assistance, so maybe it’ll help you feel at home? ”

The two exchange a glance, red eyes meeting pink & their smiles parallel before they turn their focus back onto the camera once more. With the briefest of snickers hissed behind their teeth, they offer the camera a wave each --- Maeru’s with the daintiest wave of her hand that one would figure she’s mocking you, & Toumetsu with an insincere salute as the screen fizzles into nothingness. 

UPDATES :

✘ all around the invidia ward are fairy lights of different colors that will flicker to life once the sun sets -- which it will . for the duration of the event the invidia ward solely is on a proper 24-hour cycle. ✘ there is a large tree erected in hanami recital and multiple boxes of decorations can be found by a few picnic tables along with all the materials and fabric needed to make your own. the tree already has lights on it, but is otherwise bare. you wont find anything remotely religious in the boxes however, so no angels nor crosses -- mostly things like poinsettas, stars, and other traditional ornaments. ✘ it’s snowing throughout the duration of the festival as well. the royal family is kept warm thanks to kagerou, but all snakes outside of it may feel themselves slipping into brumation because of the temperature, making them lazy and otherwise overly relaxed. the snow does stick to the ground except for on the walkways of invidia, so by the 21st there will be at least over a foot high of snow -- perfect for snowball fights or building snowmen! ✘ there’s a large feast of meats, fruits, and desserts galore with no strings attached -- but... huh, where did seto’s cow go? ✘ finely aged wine is provided to everyone courtesy of Favoring Eyes -- but any muses under the age of 15 can’t have more than a half glass. ✘ at 3PM EST there will be a three kings (secret santa) event, so feel free to either send an ask or message a mod on the discord what gift your muse wants to throw into the “pot” so that we can randomly generate who gets what gift. even the snake NPCs can join in! ✘ from 5:00PM EST through 12:00AM EST there will be a dance! it’ll be in hanami recital with a live band of snake npcs playing songs in the style of Hadestown. ✘ your muse is provided with traditional clothes to wear for the duration of the festival upon entry into invidia -- so you can choose what outfit they get, but just make sure it’s either MEDIEVAL or GREEK in design! ✘ gattaisareru and saeru seem unrecognizable -- they’ve reverted to their true appearances just as yakitsukeru has and dressed for the occasion too! it’s almost jarring how amiable they’re being by taking part in the festivities, but you could almost aliken them to mirror images of persephone and hades judging by saeru’s horns and gattaisareru’s crown of pomegranate blooms. ✘ the fighting ring won't be up this weekend, so all asks are on hold until the following weekend! ✘ this is only part one of the festivities -- the second and main event will happen sometime on the 21st, however!

[selenelavellan]

Fairy AU

part one     part two     part three

Dirthamen, Deceit, and Fear are @feynites

Life inside of Dirthamen's tree is very different than the life she had experienced on the outside.

It is quiet, to start.

Before she ran, the court she served in had not been. There was always noise somewhere; snapping bones or whirring machinery, dripping fluids, screams of the unlucky.

The price for a lack of luck in Dirthamen's court is much less severe, in comparison.

Although if she's honest, Selene supposes she is feeling luckier than she ever has.

She has been granted access to the largest library she has ever seen, she has earned the favor of a spirit of Deceit, and she has gained a vow of protection from one of the Courtly Kings.

And in all the midst of it all, she has found a home.

She had, perhaps, been unsure at first. Much of her life had been spent in a court, and they were not a place she ever enjoyed being. The thought of being kept in yet another gave her reason for quite a few concerns. But there are no screams here, no whirs of machinery with blood flowing through the cogs, no bones being snapped and reset or debts being paid with literal pounds of flesh.

Even being under Deceits constant eye is not so terrible. It is nice, after so long, to be remembered.

They are at her side every moment of the day, and if they are not than it is either Fear or Dirthamen himself who is. Even Des has found an unlikely friend in them, and the knowledge that he now has someplace to be, someplace to exist, someplace safe and far far away from where they ran soothes something deep inside her, even through the tangled vines.

The vines which still grow, even now.

More of her gifts are lost; a few weeks into their stay, Des has another Event. His eyes turn red and his nails become claws and he shrieks in pain and strikes out at her in fury and rage. She finds out then that her song no longer works; her words, her last cord of power cut away from her as she feels the buds inside of her begin to grow ever larger.

Deceit saves her that night, with a powder that sends Des into a peaceful slumber.

She feels exhausted, by the end of it. Drained and powerless and empty after trying to pull and pull and pull at her magics that no longer respond.

Forgotten by pieces of herself.

She weeps into their feathers, and mourns the loss of her own.

She wakes the next morning in Dirthamen's arms, lying in her own bed.

Panic hits her first.

But as she sits up and realizes her arms have been re-bandaged in her sleep, her clothing the same as it had been the evening before, and that he is fully dressed himself, she relaxes. Her body tingles from overexposure to magic, radiating through her arms and legs and still tender shoulders.

...Had he tried to heal her, in her sleep?

“Deceit had mentioned you were distressed,” Dirthamen speaks up from behind his mask. “I attempted to aid you, but it appears my magics are still having difficulty penetrating whatever spell you are under the effects of.”

“Thank you for the attempt,” Selene says anyways.

“Would you tell me where you came from?” He finally asks. Selenes shoulders slump. He has been dodging around the question for some time now, through questions of food preferences and customs and rules during their many shared meals.

Technically, she could tell him, even under her curse.

But she desperately doesn't want to.

“No,” She says quietly. It stings at her differently than the thorns do, but the pain of lying to him is the same. She has no reason not to trust him, not now, not after everything he has shown her. But even with the distance between his Court and her own...It feels as though just speaking of it, that acknowledging such a place truly exists, would bring its horrors crashing back down to them here. Would undo the safety that Des has found, and the comfort she takes in their arrangement. That it could tie Dirthamen, somehow, to him.

There is far too much power in words to make such a mistake.

Dirthamen lets out a soft sigh, and sits up behind her.

“Alright,” He says, and she is grateful for the allowance as tension falls from her shoulders.

He turns to stare at her through his mask, and she feels her heart beat harder in her chest. It is silly. He is a King of his Court, and there is nothing appealing about those sorts to her. They are power hungry, and manipulative, and often quite mad.

But as his hand rests gently and reverently under her chin and his thumb rubs absently over her lips, something deep inside of her blooms. It is warm, and it is wonderful, and it pulls all of her attentions from her constant pain and weariness into focus of where her lips meet his thumb.

It has been a very long time since someone other than Des touched her purposely, and without rage.

She spots her reflection in the shine of his mask, and feels anything that might have become something more, turn cold.

Her face is still bruised and discolored, her cheekbones burnt from the sun, and her mouth looks as though no one has ever considered it ‘appealing’. She can’t even remember the last time her lips didn’t crack, didn’t bleed, didn’t have an indent from the way she chews them while she works. How long has it been since some part of her could be considered soft, or inviting? Since long before she ran, surely.

There is nothing she could offer to a King. Not as she is.

No. It is a silly, fleeting thought. Some desperate part of her craving affection and connection after so long without, under the pressure of her impending death.

She closes her eyes, and takes a breath.

“I'm sorry,” She whispers, without really knowing what specifically she is apologizing for.

The king blinks beneath his mask, somehow equally confused by her apology.

“It is no trouble,” He assures her, standing from the bed and releasing her from his touch. “I had hoped, however, that you might take a break from your research for the day to join me at the festival?”

“There is a festival?”

“Yes. The harvest festival will be taking place today. The Autumnal court has encountered unusual flooding this year, and so I had agreed to host on behalf of my sister. Many of the courts will be sending representatives; perhaps you will encounter someone there with some familiarity of your situation.”

Selene feels her stomach drop out from beneath her, the vines around her heart slowing its pace dramatically at news of the changing seasons.

“Is it...really harvest time already?”

“Yes.”

“I can't-I can't take a day off, Dirthamen. It's so-time is-I'm-” Selene lets out a low growl of frustration, hands clenching in the blankets. “I can't.”

The King nods, and gives her a bow. “Alright. I hope that your search bears fruit.”

Selene swallows around the dry feeling in her mouth, trying not to laugh at his inadvertent pun. “Thank you.”

–

The sounds of the festival carry into Des's room, as he mopes and tries to spy out the window at the events below.

“Selene, they have sparklers,” he whines. “Can't we just go-”

“No,” She interrupts, turning the page in her current book. It is not very helpful, though it does contain a rather interesting concept of manipulating time to turn juice into wine more expediently.

“I'm tired of this room,” He huffs, slumping into a chair. “Can't we just glamour ourselves?”

“You can't disguise your horns or tail,” Selene points out. “Even if no one knew who you were, they would think you corrupted and have you shattered.”

“Dirthamen would protect me,” He mutters.

“But he shouldn't have to,” Selene argues. “Just-you can go to the harvest festival next year, alright?”

“You can't.”

Selene shoots him a withering glare that makes him shrink further into the dark wooden chair before she returns her attentions to the book.

“...Is it really harvest time already?” Des asks quietly, staring at his ceiling.

“Apparently so.”

“The next festival will be to bring in winter-”

“I know,”

“-And that'll be too late, no matter what you find-”

“I know!” Selene snaps, slamming the book in front of her closed.

Silence hangs heavy in the room in the wake of her outburst.

“What happens in winter?” Deceit finally pipes up from where they had been resting on the bed.

Selenes face scrunches as she fails to find words; can't spoil an ending you don't actually know, so she can't say anything at all, it seems.

“The curse culminates,” Des says for her.

Deceits face drops as they turn to Selene. “That is very soon.”

“Thanks, I didn't know,” Selene drawls sarcastically.

“Is there anything we can do to assist you?”

She gives them an over dramatic shrug, and leans back in her own chair. “I couldn't say, even if there were.”

Deceits face contorts while they seem to be having a mental conversation with their connected aspects.

“How will this affect our vow?”

“I don't know,” Selene admits. “The damage happened before I met you, so I assume you won't be obligated to protect me from its effects. If your magic still affects those outside the realm of life, I imagine at the very least you will still be obligated to protect Des.”

“But you do not know for sure,” Deceit checks.

Selene nods. “I just don't have the necessary information.”

“That is very frustrating for us.”

“Yeah, well...You're not the only ones.”

–

The festival comes to an end as the dawn begins to emerge; a new day for a new season.

Dirthamen has been gone for the entirety of the event, and some part of Selene missed sharing their usual meal together. There is a high likelihood that he ate during the festival, but she has noticed he does forget such things on occasion. While Des still slumbers in his bed, Selene sneaks out of his rooms and down the halls to Dirthamens own.

Perhaps he would enjoy sharing a breakfast with her, in lieu of their missed dinner...?

There is something intensely intimate about the thought, and she shakes it away from her head, mind distracted from other matters as she opens the heavy wooden doors between them.

Ice down her spine.

No.

No, he can’t be here. Not here, not where she is safe, where she sleeps tucked into wings and sheltered from his violence. From his touch, from the way he lashed out at her, at Des, at anyone unfortunate enough to be within arms reach. Her heart tightens in her chest, vines thicker and stronger, and rejuvenated in their masters presence.

She means to step back, to turn and close the doors before he can spot her, but it is too late.

His eyes lock onto her with instant recognition; the only one who could.

The one who cursed her in the first place.

His lips turn up in a sneer as he raises his chin, commanding her with a “Come to me,” that she is helpless but to follow. Sharp, jewel covered talons curl around her jaw, yanking her towards him, close enough that she can see and smell the blood still on his teeth. Even now, even after all she has done to escape him and what he has done to her; he has found her. He has found her, and her body remembers in the worst way, survival warring with conditioning as her mind screams to flee and to fly and to run.

“Brother,” Dirthamen speaks up as he places a gloved hand on her masters shoulder, and Selene feels a sting of betrayal shoot through her. That this man she trusted, that she cared for, that she thought she might have...

None of it was real.

He was connected the whole time; he must have been, must have tracked her down for her master and lulled her into a false sense of security to waste what little time she had remaining. Had he known that she would never find her answers here? 

He has played her for a fool; and she had played the part far, far too willingly.

Tears sting in her eyes, nearly blinding her as Falon'dins talons scrape against her cheeks.

“I've found you little bird,” He coos “Now; where have you gone and hidden my Desire?”

[kassandra-lorelei]

"You know when your phone buzzes, it means I'm trying to talk to you, right?" Niles - cc

Here we are, my friend! Again, apologies for all of these prompts taking so long, but my uni film festival is next week and I’ll also be going on holiday so I’ve had things to prepare for. I should hopefully have the ones I have left to do done by then, though! Enjoy!

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

She didn’t know where he’d been, and quite frankly at thatpoint she didn’t care. What she really wanted to know was why Niles had felt itappropriate to apparently leave the house and go off by himself for what could’vebeen hours for all she knew, without leaving her a note of where he was goingand why.

He’d never not done that before, and the longer time wenton that she stayed indoors without any word or sign of his car, the more it had started to gnaw at her. Had he been hurt, and had to go tothe hospital? No, someone would’ve told her if that had happened. She toldherself not to be so ridiculous when her mind gave her an image of such a badaccident that he couldn’t be identified. He didn’t have to pick up the kidsfrom anywhere – she’d made sure the Sheffields were looking after their girlsthat night.

It happened to be a rather important day, the romantic inher had said. She’d spent ages setting it all up, and he was ruining it by notbeing there!

She’d called his cell phone, and he hadn’t picked up. She’dtried again, and still nothing. She’d ended up leaving him five missed callsand at least twice as many messages!

And yet the first she’d heard of him since she’d kissed himgoodbye that morning was as he made his sorry way up from the driveway, ontothe path up towards the front door, where she was leaning with her arms folded.

Part of her was relieved, but the rest of her was angry.

“You know when your phone buzzes, it means I’m trying totalk to you, right?” she demanded as he got close. “I’ve been trying to getthrough to you, where’ve you been?!”

“I was driving, Babs!” he answered back, coming to a halt infront of her. “The roads were packed but it kept moving so much, I didn’t havetime to reach over and answer your message. Now, what was so important that Ishould have disregarded the law, and potentially crashed and totalled the car?”

“What was so important”! Apart from knowing whether or nothe was alive, she’d show him what was so important!

Taking him by the wrist to pull him into the house, she slammedthe door behind him and pulled him through into the kitchen and dining area.

She’d never done it by herself in her entire life, but she’dmanaged to set the table correctly – all the knives and forks were in theirright places, she’d dimmed the overhead lighting and lit their intimate mealfor two with a single candle. She’d even made sure it was scented!

And then there were the two covered plates, underneath ofwhich their two meals sat waiting to be eaten.

She gestured at the scene in frustration.

“There. Happyanniversary!” she shouted. “On this day, thirty years ago, I took thesecretarial position at Maxwell B. Sheffield Productions. I walked up thosesteps, rung the bell, and the door was opened by the biggest irritation my lifehas known ever since. The same irritation who can’t even pull over to answerthe phone when it’s clear that his wife wants to talk to him!”

She expected him to say something after that, but when shelooked at him, he was just staring with his mouth hanging open.

“Sweetheart, I…I don’t know quite what to say…!”

He was clearly more than surprised by it all. Maybe he’dforgotten it was even today? They hadn’t made a big thing out of it before(other occasions, like birthdays and marriage anniversaries, had always rankedhigher) but knowing each other for thirty years deserved remembering, in hermind.

Maybe it didn’t really matter, and she was making too muchof a fuss. It was probably becoming a bigger deal in her head because she’d beenso worried about where he was.

Well, that and she’d made an effort for nothing.

She turned away towards the table, letting go of his wrist.She didn’t feel angry anymore, just disappointed and a little sad.

“You don’t have to say anything, Niles,” she shook her headsoftly, and ran a finger over the edge of her cutlery. “It’s not really an anniversary,I just thought it might be nice to commemorate it, that’s all. But you got homelate, I was wondering where you were, starting to panic a little bit, and now…”

Now, he’d gotten home late, she’d yelled at him, and thewhole evening was spoiled. It had to be, didn’t it?

Niles didn’t say anything to fill the silence, but C.C.heard the rustling of the fabric of his jacket.

She peered over her shoulder, to see him taking a little boxout of the inside pocket.

A box designed for jewellery.

“What’s that?” she asked quietly, turning more so that shewas properly looking.

“It’s the reason I’m later than I thought I’d be,” Nilescame up behind her. “You’re not the only one who considers this a specialoccasion, Babs.”

He held out the box to press it gently into her hands.

“Happy anniversary, C.C..”

C.C. felt a shaky smile coming and tears starting to form asa warmth spread in her chest, “You remembered?”

“Of course I remembered, sweetheart!” Niles seemed almostoffended that she thought he’d forgotten. He held her upper arms, squeezingthem as he began to smile as well. “I know we haven’t made much of it before,but you didn’t honestly think I was going to let our thirty-year milestone passus by, did you?”

“No, I…I guess not…!” she actually couldn’t believe she’dbeen that much of an idiot to think he’d forget, but she wasn’t about to argue overthat.

Her husband rubbed his hands up and down her arms, “Why don’tyou open your gift?”

C.C. did so eagerly, gasping in surprise and delight at thedelicate necklace inside. The chain was white gold, and the pendant was a single,cream-coloured pearl – the traditional symbol of thirty years together.

“Niles…! It’s beautiful!” she nearly cried, turning aroundto face him properly. “Where did you get it?!”

“I’d ordered it from a place downtown, but there’d been anissue and it had accidentally been sent elsewhere,” Niles explained. “I’dintended on being back before you got home from work, but I had to make a quicktrip to Long Beach in order to rectify the mistake.”

All the way to Long Beach?! At that time of day, the traffichad probably been terrible down that end of the metropolis. No wonder he’d beengone so long! And if it had really been the fault of the jewellers, sending hergift off somewhere else, then he’d had no choice but to go after it!

“Some mistake…!” she chuckled. She then reached up to cuphis cheek in one hand. “I love you.”

Niles responded by pulling her into his arms and huggingher.

“I love you, too,” he murmured, kissing a patch of skin closeto her ear. “I’m sorry for not leaving a note, telling you that I was goingout.”

C.C. wound her arms around his neck, “And I’m sorry forgiving you the third degree when you got back.”

“You’re more than forgiven,” she could hear the smile in hisvoice as he spoke, and they held each other for a few more seconds before he pulledaway. “Now, let’s get this on you. I’d ask if the gold was so shiny you couldsee your face in it, but then I remembered that you don’t have a reflection.”

C.C. raised an eyebrow, but turned around anyway and lifted upher hair.

“Careful, Butler Boy. Sex was almost off the table oncetonight,” she warned him playfully.

Niles slipped the necklace onto her, and clipped it togetherat the back.

“Apologies, my dearest darling wife,” he kissed her cheek, andthen walked around in front of her to admire the view. “It looks as wonderfulon you as I imagined it would.”

She smirked back at him, “That’s more like it.”

She leaned into him to peck him on the lips, and when theypulled away Niles glanced at the table.

“What have youordered for dinner?”

C.C. blinked at him, “Why’d you say ‘ordered’? I might’vecooked it myself!”

There was a pause at that, during which Niles gave her aquestioning look. It made her crumble before she could keep up the pretence.

“Alright, even I didn’t believe that one,” she said,starting to smile again. “It’s from the little Italian place that we like.”

“Oh,” Niles sounded interested, and he took her hands inhis. “Do you need me to open up the wine?”

“Already uncorked and breathing. It’s on the counter,” sheindicated to the bottle and two glasses with her head.

Niles let go of her hands, and staged a small bow, “I willbring it over presently.”

With a low laugh, she patted him on the behind as he went inthat direction, “Atta boy – let those serving instincts kick in, Hazel.”

He raised an eyebrow at her in return as he walked by, “Careful,Babs – you’re not the only one who gets to decide if sex is off the tabletonight.”

C.C. rolled her eyes, seating herself at the table, “Oh,please; the only time the words “sex” and “off the table” have been in the samesentence for you is that one time we started on top of a table and fell off!”

“You’re worth every bump and bruise that it caused,” he croonedover his shoulder at her.

“Sap,” she leaned against her chair, biting back a grin. “Getthe wine – if you’re gonna be like this during dinner, I’m gonna need alcohol.”

“Right away, dear,” Niles blew her a kiss. “And in a littlewhile, perhaps we can see just how “off the table” we can get…?”

She knew that a dirty laugh was the only reply he needed. Afterthirty years of knowing each other, ten years of marriage, and three children, sometimeswordless replies were enough.

They’d certainly be so later, when they’d show each otherjust how much each decade had meant, and how much they were looking forward tothe ones still to come.

[vohalika]

“I’m sure my German teacher is very proud right now!” - The German of Episode 8

[Episode 7] [The entire series]

There was finally a lot more German in this episode again! Or attempts at German by people who weren’t thanking any teachers. Either or, I’ll take it!

So first off, Liam used the words Danke, Schwester, and Geburtstag. They mean thanks, sister, and birthday. Thank you, or a more polite version, would be Dankeschön. Thank you very much would be Vielen Dank. There’s other ways to say it, but those are enough to get by. And even though it’s finally a reasonably long word, Geburtstag just literally means day of birth.

Nott then gave us her best guess on what a clock would be called in Zinnian. Caleb seemed unfamiliar with the concept, maybe because Liam forgot about Percy spending his later years building a clock tower, much like he forgot that Percy offered Vax a solution for the smelly armor way back in episode 58. Be that as it may, the German word for clock is Uhr. It’s actually shorter! Watch, or more accurately wristwatch, would be Armbanduhr. Clock in a bracelet. And while they tick in German, too, it is nothing like clocken ticken. Though ticken is the word to tick.

Now for some fun plurals! For the syphilis shenanigans, Liam translated friends as Freunds. Freund is in indeed the word for friends, but the plural is Freunde. Freundin (sing.) and Freundinnen (plur.) if they’re all exclusively female. Another one for the swear jar was when he said Arschloch again – and then tried to plural it up with an s. There are a few German words that work like that, but most German words add an -e or -en to build the plural. There’s a bunch of different ways for different words. Anyways, the plural for Arschloch would be Arschlöcher – it has an Umlaut AND a different kind of “ch”! Arschloch has the throaty phlegm sound from hell, Arschlöcher has the hissy y-sound.

Man, I never would have thought this would come up so much. Also, kudos to Liam for getting the sound right when he said Arschloch! I’m actually kinda sure his German teacher would be very proud.

Other tidbits: Liam also demonstrated how to count to three correctly – eins, zwei, drei – after getting a few numbers wrong last time. I didn’t pounce on that because LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE already had. And occasionally it was hard to tell whether he was saying good or gut, which mean the same, but the u-sound in the German word gut is closer to the oo in mood. The t at the end is somewhat soft, but not a d.

Almost done! Towards the end, Taliesin brought up German Christmas Markets, which apparently have made it to the US now. I knew people went crazy over them in the UK, but this was news to me. Basically, for the entire month of December and sometimes way earlier to way later, most German centers of town, usually the area around big plazas or close to train stations, turn into a jungle of tiny wooden huts selling lots of Kitsch, Killefit and Tüdelkram (three somewhat regional words for knick-knacks), sweets, the German equivalent of food truck food, and yes, unholy amounts of mulled wine. My current town has like five of those all close to my university and is it’s the only somewhat sizeable town in the area, so it is FLOODED by drunk people by 11 AM in the morning for the entirety of December. Not fun.

(Personally, I prefer cocoa with amaretto in it. Fun fact: I drank an entire liter of that from one of these giant-ass Bavarian beer glasses during the Vecna fight.)

And last but most certainly not least, due to the festive occasion, allow me to demonstrate the directness of the German language in a timely manner: The German word for baby is Säugling. It literally means little person that nurses. It uses the same word as Säugetier, which is the word for mammals. Very descriptive, but not very pretty at all, which is why most people just say Baby nowadays. In addition, the actual act of breastfeeding is called stillen. Which basically means to silence, and while I’m sure there’s some deeper meaning or origin behind this word, like, most of the time you do indeed do this so the baby will shut up, so yay, descriptive and to the point again!

Aaaand that’s it for this episode. If I missed anything or got something seriously grossly wrong, feel free to point that out.

 PS: Liam’s German teacher was apparently called Mr. di Angelo. I’m gonna use this to tell you all to check out the Percy Jackson series and the follow ups by Rick Riordan. Amazing books all of them, and one of the most amazing characters in it has the same last name!

[chanoyu-to-wa]

Appendix 11:  Rikyū’s Utensils (10) --  Chaire [茶入].

Chaire [茶入] (11 chaire).

1. Ko-natsume [小ナツメ].

    This was an ordinary, black-lacquered ko-natsume [小棗].  Rikyū’s apparent favoritism has less to do with his sense of wabi -- at least as wabi is understood today (meaning a preference for simple or ordinary things).  Rather, it was the size that was important:  a ko-natsume holds enough tea for two or three guests, while minimizing what is left over afterward (since such tea could not be used as koicha again, meaning it would likely go to waste).  This -- which is the true meaning of wabi -- was Rikyū’s reason for using this container as often as he did.

    A ko-natsume was used as the tea container on fifteen of the occasions (3, 9, 10, 20, 22, 25, 26, 33, 34, 40, 41, 46, 47, 48, 56) documented in Book Two of the Nampō Roku.

2. Shiri-bukura [尻フクラ].

    This chaire was one of Rikyū's greatest personal treasures.  As has been mentioned before several times in this blog, the tray is exactly 2-sun larger than the chaire on all four sides -- and it was apparently from this bon-chaire that Rikyū developed his unique way of doing bon-date (the temae in which a chaire is used on a tray).

    This chaire was used ten times (1, 2, 8, 12, 17, 21, 24, 30, 31, 38) over the course of the year documented in this kaiki.

3. Enza [圓座].

    This is the chaire known today as the Rikyū enza [千利圓座] -- though the chaire actually belonged to Hideyoshi, who had lent it to Rikyū so that he would have an appropriate chaire to use when Hideyoshi visited, or other important guests were being entertained on Hideyoshi’s behalf (the Shiri-bukura is slightly asymmetrical, which was considered a major flaw in those days).

    The chaire had formerly belonged to Jōō, who made what seems to have been the first Japanese chaire-bon for it.  That tray, which is similar in shape to the tray shown in the photo, has a red edge, and is 3-sun 5-bu larger than the chaire on all four sides.  Rikyū copied the style of tray that Jōō had used, but reduced the size (so that his tray is only 2-sun larger than the chaire on all four sides).

    Rikyū used this chaire during six of the chakai (6, 13, 19, 28, 29, 39) that are described in this kaiki -- sometimes handling it on Jōō’s tray, and sometimes using his own.

4. Kuro chaire [黒茶入].

    This seems to have been a chaire that had been made for Rikyū by Furuta Sōshitsu.

    The chaire obviously pleased Rikyū, both aesthetically and emotionally, and he used it on 6 occasions (11, 23, 35, 44, 45, 49).

5. Ryugo [リウコ].

    Rikyū has used this chaire five times (18, 27, 36, 37, 43) in the series of chakai documented in Book Two of the Nampō Roku -- usually on festive occasions -- but scholars are divided regarding the precise piece in question.

    Most seem to lean toward a drum-shaped chaire (originally a gift container for medicinal liqueur, shown on the left), in which case the word would be ryūgo [立鼓].

    Shibayama Fugen (and those scholars who follow his lead), however, prefers a container that was originally used as a ceremonial wine-cup (this would be especially appropriate, since it, too, was used on festive occasions), called a ryūgo [立觚], and example of which is shown on the right.

6. Ten-ka-ichi Seiami shin-nakatsugi [天下一盛阿彌・眞中次].

    Rikyū's use of the word “chaire” [茶入] should not be misleading (it often is to certain scholars).  He is referring to the shin-nakatsugi that was made by Hideyoshi's personal lacquer artist, Ten-ka-ichi Seiami [天下一・盛阿彌].

    This nakatsugi was an exact copy of the one originally used by Shukō, and so treasured greatly by Rikyū.  It was tied in a shifuku (perhaps of Ming kinran with a white ground), like an any chaire.  It also appears in the Rikyū Hyakkai Ki [利休百會記].

    Here it was used on four occasions (7, 12, 14, 32).

7. Shōzan katatsuki [松山肩衝].

    This was a meibutsu chaire that had been made in Korea during the early fifteenth century.

    It was used with a round tray; but, unfortunately, the tray was destroyed in 1829, and no records survive that document its size.  In Book Two of the Nampō Roku, it appears four times (50, 53, 54, 55) near the end of the cycle.  It has been suggested that this was perhaps another utensil that Rikyū had been commissioned to sell in the run-up to the Kitano ō-cha-no-e [北野大茶の會].

8. Maru-tsubo [丸壺].

    This is the chaire now known as the Rikyū maru-tsubo [利休丸壺].  It is a karamono chaire, measuring 2-sun 4.5-bu in diameter (and so comparable to the meibutsu large katatsuki).

    It was used at three chakai (42, 51, 52); and the fact that Rikyu does not seem to have used it again after that suggests that this was yet another utensil that he was trying to sell on behalf of one of his acquaintances:  the Kitano ō-cha-no-e would have provided an excellent opportunity for people interested in chanoyu to ingratiate themselves to Hideyoshi, and presenting him with a fine chaire during the gathering would provide just the needed entrée to do so. 

9. Nasubi-chaire [ナスヒ茶入].

    This seems to be a reference to the nasu-chaire now known as the Rikyū ko-nasu [利休小茄子].  This chaire is slightly asymmetrical, measuring between 1-sun 9-bu and 2-sun in diameter.  Rikyū is said to have presented this chaire to Hideyoshi not long after the chakai (4) during which it was used.

    This chaire is rarely seen today.  It is considered to be a kan-saku karamono [カン作唐物 = 韓作唐物], which means it was made in Korea during the early fifteenth century.  The small size means that it can hold enough tea for two guests.

    In addition to the chakai for Hideyoshi, Rikyū also used it at the atomi gathering that followed (5).

10. Zunkiri [ヅン切/頭切].

    This refers to Rikyū's tame-nuri lacquered zunkiri chaire [頭切茶入].

    The zunkiri, because of its rounded inner surface (shown in the cross-section sketch), was used like a ko-tsubo chaire, with the tea pulled out using the side of the chashaku.  Furthermore, because of this, all of the tea can be removed, and so this container was typically used when all of the tea would be used up during the chakai.  

    Because Rikyū placed the zunkiri on a tray on the one occasion (16) when he records using this tea container, he was indicating that the tea it contained had come as a gift from Hideyoshi (and so Rikyū intentionally used an insignificant piece so that it would not detract from the guests’ appreciation of the tea itself).

11. Sasa-mimi [サヽ耳].

    The sasa-mimi [笹耳] is a rather exaggeratedly etiolated chaire, originally made as a vessel for perfumed beauty-oil (the bulge just below the mouth allowed it to be poured out without splashing); the pair of ears were there so that a cord could be tied onto one, crossed over several times as it passed over the stopper, and then tied onto the other ear to secure the lid and prevent spillage.

    Chinese sasa-mimi containers (which often hailed from the Western provinces) come in several different colors, with brown (as seen below) and white being most common.

    This chaire was used during one chakai (26) -- as the subordinate tea container, perhaps containing the tea that would be served as usucha.

[yourowncuba]

DO’S AND DON’TS AS A TOURIST IN CUBA

THE DON'TS

1. Do not leave home without a valid visa.

Some people gamble and wait with buying visas until they are in the departure airport. In some instances - especially in Florida - this is generally possible, but you run the risk that it will not happen. No visa = no boarding. Get your visa in your hand well in advance of your trip. There are several online agencies that can help you or contact the nearest Cuban representation's consular department.

2. Don't be hustled

Cuba, especially Havana, has several hustlers who will "help" you with anything, from finding the best restaurant in town, a "music festival" that happens right now, the cheapest cigars, the best rum. The list goes on. Nobody is doing this to help you, except help you get rid of your money. Don't let anybody whom you meet in the street show you anything. They will expect to be paid, they will take you to expensive places where they get a kick-back from the establishment, and you will pay sky high prices. There are examples of mojitos costing more than 10 CUC ($10). The male hustlers are called "jiniteros" and the female "jiniteras".

3. Don't eat at state owned restaurants.

In general state owned restaurants serve dull food and have a low level of service from less motivated staff. Go instead to privately owned "paladares" where the food is better, service a lot better and the prices just slightly higher.

4. Don't take pictures of uniformed staff

It is illegal to photograph police people and military staff as well as various types of security personnel. Furthermore, don't take pictures around the security areas in airports and near military installations.

5. Don't hand out gifts at random

If you bring gifts for people who deserve or need it then be careful how you hand them out. Don't randomly distribute candy or gifts among children. If you want to give things to kids it's fine, but give to a school or nursery and let the leaders there distribute your gifts, so every child gets a fair share of the spoils.

6. Don't flash your wealth

Leave your most fancy jewels and most expensive suits at home. Dress casually at all occasions, everywhere. Whether you stay in a 5-star hotel or in a casa particular have a relaxed attitude to the way you dress.

THE DO'S

1. Do ensure you bring enough money

Do not rely on just one credit card. Preferably bring Visa and MasterCard issued by non-US based banks. And bring spare cash in hard currency. Euros, Canadian dollars and Pounds sterling are always welcome and you just pay the normal exchange fee. US dollars can be exchanged but carry an extra exchange penalty of 10%. So for Americans it is actually smarter to bring other hard currencies. Remember to bring enough cash, especially if you are American and your credit cards won't work. For other travelers it is also worth noting that your credit cards, even though working properly in Cuban banks or ATMs, most restaurants do not accept credit cards. In Cuba cash is king.

2. Do only use CUC

There are two currencies circulating in Cuba. CUP, the local currency and CUC, the currency for foreigners. The CUC is officially 1:1 with the US dollar (minus the exchange costs). Make only your exchange at official places like banks and Cadecas (exchange offices), never at hotels and never ever in the street, not only is it illegal, but you risk ending up with low valued CUP instead of CUC. While some online advisors recommend to have some CUP for buying small stuff, tips etc., in our opinion it becomes a bit tricky to understand the different values and probably doing the conversion to your own currency at the same time. And all Cubans will love to get some CUC, which they regard as hard currency.

3. Do interact with local Cubans

On all holidays it is a nice touch to have a dialogue with local people - apart from the waiters and hotel staff. Many people come to us and ask for "the authentic Cuba". We can bring you to amazing places with a really authentic feel to them. But in order to get the maximum out of being there you yourself should make a deliberate effort to engage with locals. Cubans are extremely open minded people, they love to meet foreigners and talk about their country, but also to learn about your country. Don't be surprised if you after a short chat are invited to a private home. Don't be shy, go along, it's not dangerous - but for sure it's a lot of fun. You may bring a couple of beers or a bottle of rum to seal your new friendship.

4. Do go to paladares = privately owned restaurants

While you often hear stories of bland, Cuban food, this is rarely the case in the better part of the paladares. These private enterprises have understood the power of satisfied guests and their TripAdvisor reviews. In all major tourist destinations throughout Cuba you will find excellent paladares. You can either ask to have restaurant reservations included in your itinerary or do some homework on google and TripAdvisor. Just ensure that the reviews are of a recent date.

Paladares in Cuba are consistently improving on their menus and several of them serve vegetarian food. The local beers are excellent, especially Bucanero (recommended) or Crystal (nice but ordinary). You do get wine in Cuba, mostly Chilean, Argentinian and Spanish. The locally produced wine is best avoided.

5. Do explore

A good way to immerse yourself into the local culture of Cuba is to start out at all destinations with a guided walking tour. Depending on destination they vary in length from 2 - 4 hours. The best is to book a local guide up front and learn from her/him what is worth to know about the local area. After that you can explore the location on your own. Cuba is quite a safe country, so don't hesitate to take the side streets and the side streets of the side streets. Go into buildings, talk to people, ask where you can go, and you will find interesting stuff. From your "own guided" tour you will probably bring home fantastic impressions and photos.

Even if you are not the typical museum lover you will be likely to find a museum to your taste. Especially Havana has an abundance of interesting museums. Several museums are located in or near Old Havana.

There are museums for any interest, from arts to historical to automobile museum. Google for a list and plan your museum visits as part of your itinerary, and meet up afterwards at a paladar with lovely views from the roof top terrace, e.g. La Moneda Cubana. Their lobster is delicious.

6. Do enjoy the music

Cuban music is famous and in all neighborhoods you will hear music from cafés and restaurants. The Havana night life is renowned for its many music clubs. Join locals and foreigners and experience the best salsa on earth.

In Havana there is a few cabarets of a high international standard (Tropicana, Le Parisienne) which will take you back to the 1930'ies Paris. Quite an experience if you don't mind the decadence.

7. A final word

In Cuba there is a saying - whenever something does not go according to plan or a change is made for no apparent reason: "ES CUBA". Simply meaning "IT'S CUBA". Cubans have learned to live with this as fact of life.  Tourists alike should adjust their mindset to prepare for the unforeseen. Streets can be closed due to water leakages, partly demolished houses, sunken surface etc. - Water can be cut off as well as power and don't expect to be pre-warned. - During your transport between destinations there can be a few obstacles that your driver has to negotiate. Take it easy, you will get to your destination, eventually.

The internet is not as fast as you are used to and most casas particulares do not have wifi. So you will have to go to larger hotels and buy a voucher or find a local hotspot. This can often be spotted by people lining up. But just ask anyone in the street, they will know.

For more detail visit:  www.yourowncuba.com

[recentnews18-blog]

New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/29-funniest-novelty-gifts-this-year/

29 funniest novelty gifts this year

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Nov. 21, 2018 / 6:59 PM GMT/ Source: TODAY

By Aline Peres Martins

Some people are hard to shop for. Some people have very specific tastes. And others simply prefer their gifts on the, um, humorous side. This novelty gift guide is for all those people.

From the only “Harry Potter” gift a Potterhead needs to the one gift to get people who are perpetually late (we all have that friend), this list has all the funny, witty and unique gifts we could think of.

The internet is a vast place, with many, many weird and wonderful gift ideas. So, while this guide is a great place to start, if you’re looking for something maybe a little less eccentric, browse through our sortable gift guides or our brand new gift finding tool too.

Happy gifting, everyone!

When we release our 2018 gift guides, we make sure all prices are current. But, prices change frequently (yay, deals!), so there’s a chance the prices are now different than they were the day of publication.

Funny Gifts

For the champion of sarcasm

1. I Love Shoplifting Tote, $28, Human

TODAY editors, writers and experts take care to recommend items we really like and hope you’ll enjoy! Just so you know, TODAY does have affiliate relationships. So, while every product is independently selected, if you buy something through our links, we may get a small share of the revenue.

Not only should the person you get this for have a sarcastic sense of humor, they should also not mind getting stared (and maybe glared) at from time to time. This hilarious take on a tote bag is bound to get some laughs from any shopping-obsessed loved ones who don’t take themselves too seriously.

For the witty green thumb

2. The Golden Girls Chia Pet: Sophia, $20, Amazon

Everyone knows a Sophia. Her feisty, quick wit has withstood the test of time. Any true “Golden Girls” fan can recall a savage zinger or two from the matriarch of the clan … which Dorothy did not appreciate as much as we did.

If chia pets seem like a step in the right direction for the novelty gift you need, but “Golden Girls” isn’t exactly what you’re looking for, we found a few more great options:

Bob Ross, painter extraordinaire and the original ASMR king

Donald Trump, 45th President of the United States

Laughing Emoji, the indisputable queen of emojis

There’s apparently a chia pet for everyone!

For the one who is never on time

3. Whatever I’m Late Wall Clock, $16, Amazon

We all have a friend or family member who shows up an hour late to everything. In my friend group, that’s me. If your always-tardy friend happens to have a sense of humor, get this clock.

For the “cool” bookworm

4. I Put The Lit In Literature Mug, $14, Amazon

Your favorite bookworm probably already owns most of the books they plan on reading, or they just use a Kindle. Instead, get them the best mug ever to drink a tea or coffee by the fire as they curl up with their next epic novel.

For the influencer

5. “Read This If You Want To Be Instagram Famous” by Henry Carroll, $11, Amazon

Is it just me, or does it seem like every teenager nowadays wants to become an influencer? Though the title of this book is funny, it features some useful tips on how to build a personal brand for anyone looking to really become Instagram famous.

Gag Gifts

For the “Samantha” of your friend group

1. Grow a Boyfriend, $4 (usually $10), Amazon

Know someone who is tired of people asking, “So, when will you bring a boyfriend around for the holidays?” Get this. Some people, like Samantha from “Sex and the City” live the single life and have no problem with it. Samantha is known for saying, “I love you, but I love me more.” If your single friend can relate, they need this prop.

For the soccer mom

2. Big Head Cardboard Cutout, $20, Amazon

The perfect gift for parents who are completely obsessed with their little league stars, you can get a cardboard cutout of anyone’s face on Amazon. Putting one of these under the tree is guaranteed to draw out some laughs during holiday festivities.

For anyone who can’t live without Joe

My mom got my aunt these socks last Christmas because every morning, instead of making her own coffee, she asks if someone else is already on coffee duty. Sound familiar?

For the Star Warrior

4. “Star Wars” Waffle Maker, $40, Amazon

“Star Wars” fans probably already own the movies, light sabers and tons of fan gear. You know what they probably don’t have? A waffle maker.

Quirky Gifts

For the one who can’t seem to find their keys

I’m going to be completely honest with everyone reading this list: I am this person. I have locked myself out of my home on more than 10 occasions in my lifetime … and more than twice in the past month. While a welcome mat may seem like an unusual gift for most circumstances, this is the novelty gift I need to receive this year. Hey, Mom, are you reading this?

For the one who doesn’t actually appreciate novelty gifts

Always popular, these sentimental candles hit home for anyone who has transplanted from one state to another. This is an especially cute gift for folks from places like North Carolina, the land of the pines, or Vermont — known for maple syrup.

I’m from New Jersey, so I looked up what my state’s candle is meant to smell like. Surprisingly, it’s not highway congestion … it’s candy apples. I guess it’s true that we have lots of those, too.

For the entrepreneur

7. Ban.do I Am Very Busy Planner, $18, Amazon

There are people who always seem to be frazzled, running from one thing to the next. Some of them are actually busy and some of them just think they are. This planner works for both groups of people.

For the family man (or woman)

Say it with me: Most personalized mugs are tacky. These are not. Each little character reflects the personality of one family member with a slightly perplexed expression. The back of the mug has a little logo with the family’s last name. The mugs are unique, hip and cool. They’re like if the “world’s greatest dad” mugs got a facelift for 2018.

For “the city” dweller

Have you ever heard someone proudly proclaim they are from “the city” without specifying what city that actually is? They would love this.

For the brunch babe

10. Wake Me For Champagne Velvet Pillow, $50, Nordstrom

Some people abide by wine Wednesdays. Other people start their mornings with mimosas. Brunch, anyone?

For the “Rachel” of your group

11. “Friends” Central Perk Mug, $20, NBC Store

Help your favorite “Friends” fan embody their inner Rachel by serving coffee (to you) in one of these. Nothing says “I’ll be there for you,” like caffeine. Central Perk me up!

For the one who calls their dog their “child”

12. Customized Pet Pillow, $40, Etsy

Pet owners can never own enough homages to their little fur babies.

For the grown up Potterhead

13. Espresso Patronum Mug, $12, Amazon

Goodbye to faux wands, hello to punny mugs. For the uninitiated, “Expecto Patronum” is the spell Harry Potter uses to fight bad guys. “Espresso Patronum,” is the spell adult “Harry Potter” fans use to get through a work day.

Weird Gifts

For the long lost Kardashian

1. Kris Jenner 10% Unisex Sweatshirt, $22, Etsy

The Kardashians have become almost akin to American royalty, and pretty much everyone recognizes the last name. Needless to say, folks who have been following the family since 2007 are probably obsessed enough to wear a sweater featuring a caricature of Kris Jenner. I have not been following the Kardashians since 2007, and even I would wear it. Kris is a cultural icon.

For the millennial

Did you hear that millennials aren’t buying houses because they eat too much avocado toast? Whether or not that’s true, at least this avocado doubles as a heating pad.

For the Gaines’ of Thrones

3. “Game Of Thrones” Dragon Egg Candles, $25, Amazon

The subset of people who love both Joanna Gaines and “Game of Thrones” may be small … but those folks win my stamp of approval. Throners who also like to keep a well-decorated home need these candles.

For the Bey Hive

“I got hot sauce in my bag. Swag.” The iconic Beyonce line propelled hot sauce to a new level of pop culture appreciation. Now, any Beyonce fan can carry mini hot sauce on a keychain. So, they really will always have hot sauce in their bag. Swag.

Note: This also works for anyone who puts hot sauce on everything.

For the dog lover who is always cold

Know a dog lover who likes to keep their feet warm? These heated slippers look like adorable little corgis. Have you seen anything more perfect?

Unusual Gifts

For the one who’s always running on Dunkin’

1. Babycakes Mini Donut Maker, $14, Amazon

It’s cute, and it makes doughnuts. What more could anyone need?

For the vodka lover with a sweet tooth

2. Vodka Is Always A Good Idea Candy Bento Box, $28, Nordstrom

A nice bottle of vodka is always a good gift for the home bartender. But, a bento box full of vodka-infused candy is the perfect gift for those who believe in vodka-o-clock.

For the treasure hunter

The uncle who spends his weekends strolling down the beach looking for treasure, the teenager who is always asking Mom and Dad for money to go to the movies and the 6-year-old just starting a piggy bank to learn the basics of personal finance — they all have one thing in common. They could use this pocket metal detector.

For the pizza rat

Christmas pajamas are cute and all, but for pizza lovers, there’s nothing cuter than a comfy pair of joggers featuring cheesy goodness.

For the Christmas-loving cat person

5. Meowy Catmas Sweater, $18, Walmart

If you don’t know someone who is obsessed with their own cat, you probably know someone who is obsessed with cat memes or cat videos.

For the environmentalist “Office” fan

6. “The Office” Humans Are Terrible For the Environment Tote, $15, NBC Store

Dwight created a special place in most “The Office” fans’ hearts. This tote bag is perfect for wannabe Dunder Mifflin employees and environmentalists alike!

Finding the perfect present can be a challenge, but Shop TODAY’sup to the task. No matter who you’re looking for, we’ve got gift guides for everyone on your list, including:

To discover more deals, shopping tips and budget-friendly product recommendations, subscribe to our Stuff We Love newsletter!

Source: https://www.today.com/home/29-funniest-novelty-gifts-year-t142780

[pawprintsandthumbnails-blog]

Worth The Whistle

When making ovational pronouncements about their homeland, the Irish are rhapsodic leagues ahead of most nationalist spokesmen. Irish parlance feeds upon the fanciful, and when summarizing their realm of origin, many of Ireland’s offspring--writers in particular--are quick to describe a place that might have been both freshly created and steeped in mythologies long past. The reverence for his country described by novelist and broadcaster Frank Delaney ably captures the painterly affection shared by his tribesmen: “When the sun lights a particular hill in the distance...and it is green and silken to my eye, and the clouds have begun their slow, fat rolling journey across the sky, no land in the world can inspire such love in a common man.” [1] In visions of this sort, the extraordinary and the everyday cultivate each other, and even God’s rudest labours can be a source of inspiration. Consider James Joyce, reveling in backhanded salute to the rougher primordial influences upon his stamping grounds: “Isn’t the sea...a great sweet mother? The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.” [2]

Included on the long literary list of Ireland’s tribute-paying sons and daughters is David A. Wilson, author, editor, and expert explorer of Irish history. Among his books are Paine and Cobbett: The Transatlantic Connection (1988), United Irishmen, United States: Immigration Radicals in the Early Republic (1998), The History of the Future (2001), and the ambitious biographical doublet, Thomas D’Arcy McGee, Volume 1 (2008) and Volume 2 (2011). A tireless academic, he is also a professor in the University of Toronto’s Department of History and Celtic Studies Program. (Before I continue, the obligatory disclosure is due: though I’ve never met Wilson, there is a familial connection. Also found on his scroll of vocational titles is general editor of The Dictionary of Canadian Biography, a publication whose supervisory editor is my sister, the relentlessly revising Willadean Leo. Though she has throughout her career worked with a wide selection of impressive colleagues, she has also had a number of professional associates whose exploits I wouldn’t bother to acclaim. Wilson, it happily turns out, is not among the latter.)

Wilson allows himself liberal opportunities to praise his native soil and much that it supports in Ireland, a Bicycle, and a Tin Flute (1995), a diverse and diverting account of a solo cycling trip he undertook along the Emerald Island’s summoning coast. He begins his travels and the book that depicts them in Whitehead, a northern seashore town and the setting of his birth. From there he goes on to an engaging assortment of communities, including Islandmagee, a peninsula he cites as “perfect cycling country” thanks to a lack of traffic and a modest steepness to its hills; Corrymeela, an interdenominational locality dedicated to promoting understanding between religious groups; the town of Clifden, known and enjoyed for its annual arts festival, which he finds “crackling with energy”; Dublin, “a cyclist’s nightmare,” where both the streets and pubs are teeming; and Belfast, with its long, inescapable history of political conflict. The book is episodic, anecdotal, and zealously scrutinizing, weaving together impressions of towns and territories, with historical background, political commentary, and mythological colour contributing to the bounty of Wilson’s account. But the journey’s primary pursuit is of music, specifically Ireland’s traditional songs and the many performers who interpret them. His sole companion throughout is a tin whistle, a type of fipple flute, also called a penny whistle. It proves to be excellent rambling company for Wilson, who regards it as the ideal travel instrument (as it’s so easily transported by bicycle) and prizes it for its “brevity and simplicity...a narrow range of notes and a wide range of feeling.”

The book proceeds with an airy bustle as Wilson pedals down rugged roads and up challenging slopes, through blistering rain and lush rural landscapes. Despite the journey’s demands, he’s well-suited to the role of musical detective, maintaining throughout an unflagging spirit of investigation as well as the sputum to gatecrash forbidden territory. In one such circumstance he’s forced to shinny through a high, narrow pub window and drop into the arms of a group of helpful carousers, all for the pleasure of joining a music session after the grumpy proprietor has locked the front door. And, luckily, he has the wiliness needed to dodge potential social jousts as well as outright threats to life and limb--as in an episode in which a group of violent ruffians demand to know if he’s Protestant or Catholic. Wilson casually disentangles himself by replying, “I’m from Canada--we don’t have Protestants or Catholics.” Between social junctures, welcoming or otherwise, his tour yields up a loamy mix of songs, which includes time-honoured Irish, American pop,  and the hybrids resulting from the two. (The cowboy standard The Streets of Laredo is derived, it turns out, from a popular ditty about Irish patriot Robert Emmet.) Wilson also delves into the melodious contributions made by Turlough Carolan, a legendary harpist of the late-seventeenth and early-eighteenth centuries, blinded before the age of twenty; Michael Coleman, an influential fiddle player who became a successful recording artist in the United States; and Francis O’Neill, a flutist who emigrated to America, became a superintendent for the Chicago police force, and published a seminal book that endowed posterity with over a thousand folk songs from Ireland.   

But it’s in the recountings of the many shows and sessions attended by Wilson that the book is especially shapely and evocative. It’s more than apparent how compelled he is by the mutable nature of music, its fluidity and seductiveness, and the uniting claim it makes upon a crowd, guiding and defining both the musicians creating it and the audience consuming it. The performance of a young accordion player and her band is one of many captivating experiences Wilson reports upon: “She sat on a chair in the middle of the stage, moving from lighthearted waltzes to high-speed reels, deep inside her own world, thoroughly immersed in the music, swaying and smiling with the currents that flow beneath it all. Accordion, fiddle, guitar, and bass were rushing and running together, thundering into a breakneck finish with ‘The Foxhunter’s Reel,’ leaving us shouting and stamping for more.” Despite the exuberant public nature of the many entertainments that he takes in, Wilson is never far from the creative intimacy of such occasions, as well as the recognition that musicianship is its own private caravan, and that music, no matter how penetrable it may be, remains a rich and limitless enigma, something that can never be completely perceived, captured, or explored. It’s during these passages as well as his descriptions of the landscape (also bewitching, overwhelming, and mysterious) that his writing is at its most beckoning, revealing its own quality of music.

Though there’s a current of wonderstruck devotion running from chapter to chapter, Ireland, a Bicycle, and a Tin Flute is overall relaxed and larkish, demonstrating a strong appreciation for mischief and revelry (alcohol is chronically within reach, no matter which town Wilson is visiting), as well as a fondness for the odd, the wayward, and the fantastic. His visit to Whitehead prompts childhood memories of the area’s chilly seafront cliffs and caves and the tale of an outcast madman who took refuge among them and consequently shivered himself to death. And, like a page out of Sheridan Le Fanu, there’s mention made of a true horror story from 1888 in which a northern lake filled up dangerously high during a storm, enough so for its surging waters to gulp down an impatient military man and his driver, coach, and horses after the order was given to “drive on to hell.”

The cumulative effect of this book is of a picaresque adventure following its own abounding soundtrack, with both the journey and its chronicle, to borrow an old phrase, worth the whistle. (A small dissenting note, however: featured on many pages are a series of illustrations by Justin Palmer, and while the sketches have their own energetic virtues, they can’t be called a necessary inclusion. Wilson’s writing is satisfyingly visual as it is, and Palmer’s imagery hasn’t the polish and openness of the narrative it accompanies. That said, the drawings are certainly likable enough and do the book no harm.) 

Edna O’Brien, a mercurial talent and an enticing literary companion, has stated that the gift of language has been her bread and wine. The same, I think, should be said of Wilson, who enjoys putting a certain tang in the tale. But music too must be included and highlighted on his aesthetic bill of fare. He knows its pleasures and contradictions too fondly and too well to be a mere sampler at the gathering.

Notes

[1] Ireland, Frank Delaney, Harper Collins, 2005, p518

[2] Ulysses, James Joyce, Oxford University Press, 2011, p5

(Posted: 29/3/18)