#whyever does this happen?

[assortedantics]

I really hope that the sickness which hath just now stricken me is of the “lasts about a night and has vanished by morning” variety else I think school will kill me tomorrow.

[marchioness-of-shitposting]

The pure chaos and Bridgerton dumbassery of Anthony walking in on Eloise making out with Cressida is just comedic gold waiting to happen like,

Anthony: You will marry her!

Cressida: Yes, well unfortunately I cannot do so.

Anthony: Have you no shame, Miss Cowper? You have defiled my sister! She is ruined!

Cressida: And I would be happy to make right by her. However��

Anthony: No excuses! You will marry her or we will deul at dawn!

Benedict: Is it not ungentlemanly to deul a young lady?

Anthony: …yes well… you will marry her or… or Kate will deul you at dawn!

Kate: I’m not doing that.

Anthony: Babe, please.

Kate: You’re an imbecile.

Anthony: Fine. Colin will duel Miss Cowper.

Colin: Why must I be the ungentlemanly one?

Anthony: Because someone must!

Daphne: Someone must what?

Benedict: Deul Miss Cowper.

Daphne: Whyever would one of you need to deul Miss Cowper?

Anthony: Because I caught her in the act of defiling our sister!

Daphne: Right… well passion can sometimes get the best of us when we are in love. As long as Miss Cowper does the honourable thing and marries Eloise—

Anthony: She is refusing!

Francesca: Why would you refuse? You both seem so in love.

Cressida: I am not refusing! I am merely confused regarding how exactly I am supposed to—

Daphne: Worry not, brother. I will handle this. *cracking her knuckles* You will marry her or come the dawn our pistols meet and you will take your final breath in the presence of my gleeful victory.

Everyone: …

Benedict: Is anyone else suddenly very afraid of Daphne?

Hyacinth: Cressida and Eloise will make the most beautiful children.

Gregory: Do you think if I ask they’ll name one after me?

Meanwhile

John: Should we maybe… intervene?

Simon: Of course not. When it comes to the Bridgertons it is every man or woman for themselves.

Kate: She must learn to stand on her own. She’ll never survive this family otherwise.

Penelope: Survive this family? Do you actually believe they’ll make it to the wedding before realising two women are unable to wed?

Kate: No. But when love is involved the Bridgertons will find a way and love most certainly is. I called this six months ago.

Simon: Agreed. Though if they are to marry someone must first hunt down Eloise.

John: What are you talking about she's right… where the hell did she go?

Penelope: Oh she’s long gone. She snuck out as soon as Anthony brought up marriage.

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 4 EPISODE 02 || DO NO HARM ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

He was silent while we made our way out onto the river. It was a dark, moonless night, but the reflections of starlight from the surface of the river gave enough light to see, once my eyes had adapted to the shifting glimmer of water and tree-shadow. “Ye dinna mean to say anything?” he asked abruptly, at last. “It’s not my choice to make,” I said, feeling a tightness in my chest that had nothing to do with stays. “No?” “She’s your aunt. It’s your life. It has to be your choice.” “And you’ll be a spectator, will you?” He grunted as he spoke, digging with the oars as he pulled upstream. “Is it not your life? Or do ye not mean to stay with me, after all?” “What do you mean, not stay?” I sat up, startled. “Perhaps it will be too much for you.” His head was bent over the oars; I couldn’t see his face. “If you mean what happened at the sawmill—” “No, not that.” He heaved back on the oars, shoulders broadening under his linen, and gave me a crooked smile. “Death and disaster wouldna trouble ye ower-much, Sassenach. But the small things, day by day … I see ye flinch, when the black maid combs your hair, or when the boy takes your shoes away to clean. And the slaves who work in the turpentine camp. That troubles ye, no?” “Yes. It does. I’m—I can’t own slaves. I’ve told you—”

“Aye, ye have.” He rested on the oars for a moment, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. His eyes met mine squarely. “And if I chose to do this, Sassenach … could ye stay by me, and watch, and do nothing—for there is nothing that could be done, until my aunt should die. Perhaps not even then.” “What do you mean?” “She will not free her slaves—how should she? I could not, while she lived.” “But once you had inherited the place …” I hesitated. Beyond the ghoulish aspects of discussing Jocasta’s death, there was the more concrete consideration that that event was unlikely to occur for some time; Jocasta was little more than sixty, and aside from her blindness, in vigorous health. I suddenly saw what he meant; could I bring myself to live, day after day, month after month, year after year, as an owner of slaves? I could not pretend otherwise, could take no refuge in the notion that I was only a guest, an outsider. I bit my lip, in order not to cry out instant denial. “Even then,” he said, answering my partial argument. “Did ye not know that a slave owner cannot free his slaves without the written permission of the Assembly?” “He what?” I stared blankly at him. “Whyever not?” “The plantation owners go in fear of an armed insurrection of Negroes,” he said. “And d’ye blame them?” he added sardonically. “Slaves are forbidden to carry weapons, save tools such as tree knives, and there are the bloodshed laws to prevent their use.” He shook his head. “Nay, the last thing the Assembly would allow is a large group of free blacks let loose upon the countryside. Even if a man wishes to manumit one of his slaves, and is given permission to do so, the freed slave is required to leave the colony within a short time—or he may be captured and enslaved by anyone who chooses to take him.” “You’ve thought about it,” I said slowly. “Haven’t you?” I didn’t answer. I trailed my hand in the water, a little wave purling up my wrist. No, I hadn’t thought about the prospect. Not consciously, because I hadn’t wanted to face the choice that was now being laid before me. “I suppose it would be a great chance,” I said, my voice sounding strained and unnatural to my ears. “You’d be in charge of everything …” “My aunt is not a fool,” he interrupted, with a slight edge to his voice. “She would make me heir, but not owner in her place. She would use me to do those things she cannot—but I would be no more than her cat’s-paw. True, she would ask my opinion, listen to my advice; but nothing would be done, and she didna wish it so.” He shook his head. “Her husband is dead. Whether she was fond of him or no, she is mistress here now, with none to answer to. And she enjoys the taste of power too well to spit it out.”

He was plainly correct in this assessment of Jocasta Cameron’s character, and therein lay the key to her plan. She needed a man; someone to go into those places she could not go, to deal with the Navy, to handle the chores of a large estate that she could not manage because of her blindness. At the same time, she patently did not want a husband; someone who would usurp her power and dictate to her. Had he not been a slave, Ulysses could have acted for her—but while he could be her eyes and ears, he could not be her hands. No, Jamie was the perfect choice; a strong, competent man, able to command respect among peers, compel obedience in subordinates. One knowledgeable in the management of land and men. Furthermore, a man bound to her by kinship and obligation, there to do her bidding—but essentially powerless. He would be held in thrall by dependence upon her bounty, and by the rich bribe of River Run itself; a debt that need not be paid until the matter was no longer of any earthly concern to Jocasta Cameron. There was an increasing lump in my throat as I sought for words. I couldn’t, I thought. I couldn’t manage it. But I couldn’t face the alternative, either; I couldn’t urge him to reject Jocasta’s offer, knowing it would send him to Scotland, to meet an unknown death. “I can’t say what you should do,” I finally said, my voice barely audible above the regular lap of the oars. There was an eddy pool, where a large tree had fallen into the water, its branches forming a trap for all the debris that drifted downstream. Jamie made for this, backing the rowboat neatly into quiet water. He let down the oars, and wiped a sleeve across his forehead, breathing heavily from exertion.

The night was quiet around us, with little sound but the lapping of water, and the occasional scrape of submerged tree branches against the hull. At last he reached out and touched my chin.

“Your face is my heart, Sassenach,” he said softly, “and love of you is my soul. But you’re right; ye canna be my conscience.”

In spite of everything, I felt a lightening of spirit, as though some indefinable burden had dropped away.

13 AN EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE ~ Drums of Autumn

[marlynnofmany]

Mechanical Rhythms

I opened the door to the engine room, ready to declare “Lunch delivery!” but the place was so loud with machinery that I decided to wait. Instead I shut the door behind me and carried the tray of sealed containers past all the viewscreens, gauges, and schematics, and into the labyrinth of passages beyond.

They call it the engine room, but really it’s a whole complex on this spaceship. And it’s not usually this loud. All the thumps, roars, and dings seemed to be at max volume somehow.

When I reached the part that was normally smooth walls and amorphous shapes, I saw why. All the covers were off. Some were retracted into the ceiling, some swung open like window shutters, and more lay cluttering up the walkway along with a chaotic spread of tools.

From somewhere among the exposed wires and pipes, a gruff voice muttered angrily.

“Hey Mimi,” I said over the whooshing noises of the pipes. “I’ve got lunch for you.”

“Thanks,” said the voice, sounding tired. And gravely. I found it amusing that our engineer sounded just like any number of crusty old mechanics back home. Mimi’s voice was balanced out by the fact that his name was Mimi, and he looked like an octopus. “Put it on top of the big toolbox, will you?” he said, sticking a tentacle out from behind something shaped like a pipe organ.

“Sure,” I said. I was pretty sure I knew which one he meant. “It’s heated but sealed, so you can get to it when you’re ready.”

“Think I’ll take a break now,” he said. “This is obnoxious and a half.” More pale green tentacles emerged, followed by his round octopus head, and Mimi clambered expertly over the mess to plop down next to the food tray.

I looked around. “What’s happening? Eggskin said you were working on something that might take a while.”

“It wasn’t supposed to,” Mimi griped as he twisted a lid off. “I was just checking for efficient fuel use, since something wasn’t firing right, and now I’ve been tracking the flipping-flailing problem all day!” He dumped something into his mouth that looked like grapes. “I had other thingzh I wuz gonna do,” he grumbled.

“Sounds annoying,” I said. “Made any progress, at least?”

“Oh sure,” he replied, pointing a tentacle over his head at the set of pipes. “Tracked the problem to that area. One of ‘em isn’t in synch with the rest, and I am not looking forward to disassembling the housing so I can figure out which.”

The pipes were a dull coppery-brown, without any of the translucence of certain other engine parts. “Yeah, I guess you can’t really see from here, huh?”

“Nope,” Mimi said, prying at another container. “If I ever meet the pebble-brain who designed this ship, I will have words for them.”

I moved closer, picking out the sounds of these engine parts over the others. Kind of a whoosh-whirr-wheet. “Can you tell anything by listening?”

Mimi spoke over a mouthful of food. “Like what?”

“You said one was out of synch. Does it make a different noise?”

With a wave of tentacles that I took to mean I doubt it, or maybe You’re welcome to try, Mimi focused on his lunch.

Well. Whyever not.

I stepped over more tools to where I could stick my face up close to the noisy things. At least this part wasn’t the loudest — that honor was reserved for the whump-screech rhythm from the boiler-looking dealie down the way. I didn’t know what any of this stuff did.

When I listened from up close, I found a surprisingly catchy beat to the noises. It reminded me of the dishwasher my parents had when I was a kid. Fond memories of dancing in front of it. I’ve always taken my small joys where I find them, and I’m pretty sure that stemmed from a good upbringing. Any family that encouraged kids to dance to dishwasher noises is one that can find fun anywhere.

I moved along the row of pipes, listening to each in turn, nodding to the beat until I found something that didn’t match.

Whoosh-whirr-wheet.

Whoosh-whirr-wheet.

Whoosh-whirr…whirr…

“It’s this one,” I said, standing back and pointing.

“What? How can you tell?” Mimi demanded.

“It dropped the beat,” I said.

“What?”

“It doesn’t match the rhythm of the others.”

Mimi scrambled over, lunch forgotten. “You can hear that?”

“Well yeah, it’s pretty obvious when you listen for it,” I said, giving him space. I watched as he clambered around, listening intently with the little ear holes in the side of his squishy head, sometimes pressing between the pipes in a way someone with solid bones could never manage. There was a reason Strongarms made good mechanics.

But apparently not all the reasons.

“I have no idea what you’re hearing,” Mimi declared, pulling back out.

“It’s this one,” I repeated. “The other ones are going whoosh-whirr-wheet, but this one gets stuck on the whirr.”

Mimi stared at me for a moment. “Stay right there,” he said, scrambling down to a bank of dials and levers. “Tell me if you hear any change. The third one, right?”

“Yeah.” I listened from close to the pipes while he adjusted things down at the bottom. Gradually, the rhythm shifted. “Oh, it’s getting better!”

“See if you can tell me when it matches,” Mimi said.

“Almost there,” I said. “It’s making the wheet noise now, just at the wrong time.” I nodded along, drumming on the air to the rhythm of the other pipes while Pipe Number Three gradually synched up. “Wait, too far,” I told Mimi. “It’s too early now.”

Muttering something indistinct, Mimi adjusted more dials.

“There! You got it!” I stood back, grinning.

“You’re sure?” Mimi asked from the console.

“Yeah, it’s a perfect match now. Ready to dance to.” I shimmied in place, appreciating the beat and not particularly caring if it wasn’t dignified.

“I’ll run the diagnostic again,” Mimi said as he tentacle-walked over to a different control panel. “If that fixed it, I will be amazed.”

I danced among the tools for the few seconds it took to run the diagnostic.

“Welp,” Mimi said. “It’s official. I’m amazed.”

“Did we fix it?” I asked, standing up with a grin.

“It appears that we did,” he said. Waving his tentacles in a baffled sort of way, he looked from me to the panel. “Thanks. You’re useful to have around.”

“And you’re welcome!” I replied. “Happy to help. Now you can finish your lunch before Eggskin starts griping about organic maintenance.”

“We can’t have that, now can we?” Mimi said. “Maybe I’ll eat somewhere quieter, and put the sound baffles back in place afterward.”

“Great idea,” I agreed. “As catchy as this music is, it’s a bit loud for lunch.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character in this book. More to come!

[whatwewrotepodcast]

OC Question Tag

Thanks @willtheweaver, this was a fun one.

I picked on Ellis from PPiS in this one because he's a charmer.

Are you named after anyone?

Not that I know of, though the orphanage gave me the surname Grey because it was the colour of the blanket I was wrapped in when they found me. Does that count?

When was the last time you cried?

A pirate never tells, darling.

Do you have kids?

Not really my scene, no? This is no lifestyle for a kid anyway.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Whyever would I do that, darling? Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Are they nice to look at? And are they pointing a gun at me? Important things, you know?

What’s your eye color?

Brown.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Hmm, what a philosophical question? I will say happy endings, because they so rarely happen in the real world. Got to get our jollies somewhere, no?

Any special talents?

So many, darling. I'm the best star pilot you'll ever meet, a damn good shot, and an excellent lay. Is that enough to be getting on with?

Where were you born?

Somewhere on Ceres, I suppose.

Do you have any pets?

It's no more fair to keep a pet on a starship than it is a kid.

What sports do you play?

Sports are for the rich.

How tall are you?

5'11

What was your favorite subject in school?

Darling, I didn't go to school. The orphanage had no interest in educating us when we were destined to be grist for the Alliance war machine.

What is your dream job?

I'm doing it, darling! Rebel, pilot, pirate.

--

Tagging @theeccentricraven @mk-writes-stuff @illarian-rambling

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Sebek Zigvolt Lab Coat Personal Story: Part 1

"I will most definitely remove that for you!"

Part 1 (Part 2)

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Sebek: Hm? I see you, Silver. What are you doing at the Mystery Shop?

Silver: Ah… Sebek… Did you come… to buy some food…?

Silver: You truly are a glutton…

Sebek: Hey! You're just stumbling around again, I see. As one of Malleus-sama's retainers, you should shape up!!!

Silver: …That's why I'm buying… something to help wake… Zzz…

Lilia: Oh, you two. How rare seeing the two of you in the same place like this.

Sebek: Lilia-sama! Whyever are you here, are you doing some shopping?

Silver: Of course he is… This is the school store, what else would he be doing…?

Sebek: Sh-Shut up! It's just small talk…!

Lilia: It's splendid to see both of you so spirited.

Sebek: Ahem… Anyway, what are you buying here, Lilia-sama?

Lilia: Malleus said he was a tad hungry, so I thought I would get him some fries.

Sebek: S-So, the young master also has snack cravings at times, too!?

Lilia: Even someone such as he is still a growing boy. Of course he'd at least want a hot snack here and there.

Lilia: See, doesn't this look delicious?

Sebek: It does seem warm and tasty… But are you content with simply choosing the plain salt kind?

Lilia: What do you mean?

Silver: Recently, here at this Mystery Shop, you can flavor them with all sorts of different sauces.

Silver: They have BBQ, chili sauce, butter… and many more interesting flavors that you may find you like, Father.

Lilia: Oho, interesting. Alright, I'll get one of those sauces, then. I wonder what Malleus would like…

Sebek: I shall go fetch one, Lilia-sama! Please wait a moment!!!!!!!

Lilia: Mm, thanks, Sebek.

Silver: He's dashed off pretty quickly...

Sebek: Lilia-sama, I've brought it! I'll pour it for you now.

Silver: That's just ordinary ketchup. Will that be alright? There are other kinds of flavors.

Sebek: I am sure that my liege likes ketchup on his fries. He used it during lunch just the other day.

Silver: You… really remember every minute thing.

Sebek: Rightfully so! It is the retainer's duty to know what his lord and master's dietary preferences are.

Silver: Even so, I don't think it's a necessity to memorize what he prefers to cover his potatoes with...

Sebek: How could you say that!? This is the sort of information that is vital to the young master's daily comfort!

Sebek: I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SOME TIME NOW, BUT DO YOU NOT REALIZE YOU ARE LACKING AS HIS RETAINER!!!!???

Lilia: Come now, Sebek, lower your voice. You're bothering the other customers.

Sebek: BUT, LILIA-SAMA!!!!!!

Malleus: Lilia, class is about to start… Oh, dear me.

Sebek: M-My liege!? A thousand apologies, in my carelessness, I bumped into you… Are you injured at all!?

Malleus: No, no harm done.

Silver: Ah… Malleus-sama. There is ketchup on your uniform.

Malleus: Hm? …Ah, it must have happened when Sebek and I bumped into each other.

Malleus: Since the lab coat is white, the stain definitely stands out.

Sebek: What have I done…! My sincerest apologies!!! I shall use my magic to clean it up posthaste!!

Sebek: Hiyah!

Silver: …It looks as though the stain simply spread out further.

Lilia: Sebek, you haven't learned cleaning magic yet, have you?

Sebek: B-But I cannot leave his attire in such soiled disarray!

Sebek: My liege! I will most definitely remove that stain for you! Please entrust your lab coat to me!!

Malleus: Hm… You want me to take this off, then?

Malleus: Here.

Sebek: I deeply thank you for allowing me the opportunity to redeem myself. Now then, I beg you to allow me a moment!

Silver: Ah, hey…!

Malleus: Leave him be, Silver.

Silver: Is that alright? A stain of that nature would be nothing before either of your magic, no?

Lilia: True. But…

Malleus: Sebek was very adamant. I'll see how he deals with it.

Silver: …If that is what the two of you wish. Then, I shall go and fetch you a replacement lab coat.

Silver: You were dressed as such since it was necessary for your next class, is that correct?

Malleus: Correct. I appreciate it.

[Interior Hallway]

Sebek: Urk…! No matter how much magic I use, the lab coat isn't getting clean at all…

Sebek: DESPITE THIS, I MUST RECOVER FROM THIS BLUNDER BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY!!!!!

Azul: Whatever could be causing you to raise your voice so loudly, I wonder…?

Azul: Ah, you are Sebek Zigvolt-san from Diasomnia, if I'm not mistaken. Is something troubling you?

Sebek: You're Octavinelle's… It's nothing, go away.

Azul: Oh my, and here I was reaching out to you out of the goodness of my heart.

Azul: …What is with that lab coat? It has quite the terrible red stain.

Sebek: I-I told you, it's nothing! I have no need of your assistance!

Azul: Is that so… What a pity. Why, just the other day, I developed a very potent detergent.

Azul: I am very confident that it would remove even the most obstinate stain.

Sebek: What…!?

Azul: However, it seems you're not willing to try it. Ah, oh what a pity.

Azul: Well then, I shall be heading back to Octavinelle now.

Sebek: W-Wait!

Azul: Oh? Is there something you still needed, Sebek-san?

Sebek: Urgh… About that detergent…

Azul: Yes, what is it? I'm afraid I cannot hear you because you've lowered your voice.

Sebek: I said to tell me more about this detergent you developed!

Azul: I see, well, that's no problem whatsoever. My, my, I am so ecstatic that you've changed your mind.

Azul: Now then, please follow me.

Sebek: W-Wait a moment. Why do we have to go somewhere else…? H-Hey, listen to what I'm saying!!

Part 1 (Part 2)

Requested by @dida-books.

[twistedtummies2]

Top 10 Grim Reaper Battles from Castlevania

We’re taking a slight detour on my “Dracula Month” extravaganza to look at something not necessarily directly involving the Count, but instead closely related to him. Earlier this month, I made a list of my favorite Dracula Boss Battles from Castlevania: one of my favorite video game franchises of all time. I think it’s only fair that I give the other main antagonist of the series some credit, as well. I speak, of course, of the Grim Reaper himself: Death. Just like Dracula in the Castlevania series (as well as both Dracula and Castlevania in general), Death has evolved and taken on several different roles within the franchise. In some continuities he is Dracula’s right-hand skeleton, and the closest thing the King of the Vampires has to a friend. In other continuities, their relationship is far less chummy. Regardless, however, the spirit of Death and the Prince of Darkness are inextricably linked in each rendition: just as closely connected to Dracula as the Belmonts may be. No matter the incarnation, the specter of the Grim Reaper hangs over the whole franchise: every Castlevania universe features him to some greater or lesser degree, and nearly every single game features Death as either a major villain, a noteworthy boss fight, or both. So, having already discussed Dracula himself, it’s time to give the other main villain of this series some kudos. These are My Top 5 Death Battles (not THAT kind of Death Battle, YouTube lovers) from Castlevania!

5. Super Castlevania IV.

Arguably the most classic of classics. It’s honestly hard for me to say why I like this particular battle with the Reaper so much, compared to a lot of others. It’s not the most challenging of the bunch, it’s not the most spectacular visually, and since this game is MUCH more focused on gameplay than story, there’s no personal touch to it: Death is one of the final bosses in the game, sure, but it’s not like he’s been causing trouble for us before we meet him. For whatever reason, however, this version has always stuck with me: something about the particularly moldy-looking design, the ghostly way Death phases and floats around the field, the glowing red eyes, and the tense music in the background…it lends a sense of atmosphere that sticks with me strongly. Not much else to say, I just…really like this one, plain and simple.

4. Curse of Darkness.

Throughout “Curse of Darkness,” our main character - Hector - has encounters with a recurring, mysterious figure called “Zead.” He claims to be a man of the cloth, who offers Hector help in tracking down the Devil Forgemaster’s nemesis, Isaac. However, it’s made pretty clear from the start that Zead is untrustworthy: we know that, whyever he’s doing what he does, it can’t be good. Finally, the shoe drops as Zead reveals he’s actually the Grim Reaper himself, disguised in human form, and has been using Hector to find a way to bring Count Dracula back from the grave. Naturally, Hector - who has been trying to find a way to stop this exact thing from happening - can’t allow this. Thus, Zead takes on a monstrous true form, and the boss battle commences. During this battle, Death remains static in the center of the battlefield…but if you think this makes things much easier, think again. The Reaper spends the battle hurling various magical sickles at you, and using either his scythe or a fiery punch to swing at you when you get too close for too long. Once you remove enough help from Death’s life bar, he summons a fireball and creates a powerful explosion, engulfing nearly the entire field. If a player is quick and cunning, they can use this opportunity to grab a rare item from the Reaper to create the “Death’s Pulse” weapon…but again, if you think wielding that will make the battle a lot easier, think again. It’s still cool to have, though.

3. Dracula X Chronicles.

As a brief reminder, “Dracula X Chronicles” is 3D graphics remake of the earlier Castlevania game “Rondo of Blood.” Death’s battle is therefore basically a visually updated version of the same boss from that title. Early in the game, the Reaper appears in a prologue tutorial, helping the player (in the role of Richter Belmont) learn the ropes of using their weapon and basic moves. Once defeated, he retreats, but promises to come back. Sure enough, later in the story, Death returns to stop the protagonists from progressing any further. In his first form, Death floats about the field, hurling miniature sickles and summoning flaming skulls to attack the player. Once he loses enough health, Death transforms into a more traditional-looking version of the Grim Reaper - hooded cloak, giant scythe, and all - and fights the player more directly, using leaping and slashing attacks to combat his opponents. It’s a quintessential battle with the character for these games, and one of the first I think of.

2. Lament of Innocence.

This game is the prologue/prequel to the entire “classic era” of Castlevania. It tells the story of how the feud between Dracula and the Belmont Family began…but Dracula, himself, is not actually the final boss of the game. In fact, this is one of the few games of the franchise where Dracula isn’t fought at all. Instead, the final boss of the game is Death, as the game also shows how the Grim Reaper became the vampire’s chief flunky. After being summoned by Mathias Cronqvist (the man who, in the original Castlevania continuity, later becomes Count Dracula), Death squares off with the sire of the Belmont Clan, Leon, at the end of the monster hunter’s journey. This battle is sort of a cross between the two previous bosses: Death floats (and sometimes teleports) around the arena, sticking to the edges of the battlefield. Throughout the fight, he alternates between swinging his scythe and hurling it like a bloodstained boomerang, and summons exploding skulls and wisping ghosts to chase and attack the player. Sub-Weapons do not work on this boss at all; attempting to use them only causes them to backfire on the main character, which naturally just makes this boss all the more challenging. As the battle rages on, Death becomes more elusive, more hard-hitting, and gains new attacks to try and strike the Leon down. For many fans, this extremely wild and difficult boss fight was and still is Death’s finest moment…yet it’s only second place for me. So…what could top it?

1. Lords of Shadow II.

In the universe of “Lords of Shadow” - a trilogy of games that attempted to reboot the Castlevania series, with its own unique continuity - Death is given the true name ���Zobek,” and his role in the series is changed. Instead of being depicted as Dracula’s faithful lieutenant, like in all the other games on this list, Zobek is instead Dracula’s nemesis, as he is either directly or indirectly responsible for everything wrong that goes on in the Count’s life, both before and after his transformation into a vampire. After two games where we never faced Zobek directly in combat, the penultimate boss battle of the game - pitting him against Dracula - felt SO satisfying and exciting to play through. There are four reasons this fight is great, in my opinion. One: the battle itself. It’s just a fun and challenging ride, as Zobek alternates wielding his flail-like death’s scythe and summoning hordes of zombies to fight Dracula. Two, and tied to that point: the fact we get to play AS Dracula, while fighting Death. It’s pitting the two main antagonists of the entire franchise, and arguably the two most important characters in the “Lords of Shadow” universe, specifically, against one another. That’s just AWESOME. Three, and again tied to THAT point: the personal connection. Dracula and Death have a lot of history with each other in this universe, both good and bad, which makes this encounter more meaningful than arguably any other boss fight against the Grim Reaper in the entire franchise. Fourth, and finally: Zobek is voiced by PATRICK. GOD-DANG. STEWART. And MAN, does he deliver! Stewart’s boss dialogue is absolutely golden, and is the ripe cherry on the dark, rich cake for this whole encounter: hearing him bellow lines like “Chamberlains! Let the banquet begin!” and “You’ve never been a match for me!” is just glorious. I know placing a boss from the reboot trilogy will probably be controversial for many, but for me? This battle with Death trumps even “Lament of Innocence,” and by a pretty wide margin, to be honest. It is easily my favorite boss battle against the Grim Reaper in the entire Castlevania franchise. And if you have any problems with that? “MAY YOU AND YOUR SPAWN BE DAMNED FOREVER!” (I really freaking LOVE that line. God bless Patrick Stewart.)

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

Symphony of the Night.

A classic game and a classic appearance of the Grim Reaper: after stealing all your goodies at the start of the adventure, it’s good to finally get a chance to use all the things you’ve regathered against Death near the end. However, the fight is ultimately surprisingly easy, compared to many others, and I’m not fond of the design Death has in the second stage of the battle.

Portrait of Ruin.

The Grim Reaper’s solo battle is ultimately overshadowed by the battle with Dracula AND Death, together, at the end, which is why this one gets just an Honorable Mention. It’s still a good battle, though; Death takes on two forms throughout the fight, one which is specifically weak to Jonathan Morris’ attacks, and one which is specifically affected by his friend Charlotte’s. Great way to use the buddy system here!

Dawn of Sorrow.

Not much to say about this one, to be honest; just a solid battle against the Grim Reaper with two fun stages. I love the look of the second stage, very unique while still feeling like…well…the Reaper. Take notes, Symphony of the Night. :P

The Adventure ReBirth.

I haven’t actually fought this boss, and I don’t know much about this entry in the series in general, to be honest. However, the battle certainly LOOKS like a good one, and I love the design of Death in this particular game, so I still feel I can give this an Honorable Mention.

[valkyurii]

I thought the game was trying to reassure us actually xD In a manner like, "We know we've stated multiple times that Malenia is undefeated. But worry not. You'll be fighting a half-dead version of her! She's defeatable!"

I guess there's always room to argue how intentional the blooms are since it's vague enough. Though, my opinion is… hmm.. Regardless of whether Malenia actively chooses to bloom, I think significant feelings of despair will inevitably be present. Because it's only natural to despair on the brink of death, no? Unless she has zero survival instincts. And it's not as if she can find closure like Millicent. During the first bloom, she fights with purpose. During the second, she's not expecting a fight. In both cases, whyever would she instinctually willingly go down just because she's "not supposed to win"? Anyone else in her position would be resigned to carrying their resentments to the grave. But that doesn't happen for her since she harbours a parasitic time bomb which exploits the human condition. These are my current messy thoughts anyway. But I don't particularly care if she bloomed on purpose.

Maybe Malenia's combo of difficulty + novelty needs time for evaluating or adjusting to. Maybe that's why more people are coming round to her now. She's like an acquired taste in a way? Which also means some people just hold feelings of aversion towards her.

Sorry to give you an awkwardly late response. Sometimes I overthink what to say even when anonymous. Btw, my ask isn't an essay question with a limited word count :P rant if you wish. I enjoy reading your response. Thank you. And I too hope you're well.

Hey anon, so sorry for the late reply I haven’t been on here much this past week 😅

Oh you’re right though it could well be the game trying to reassure us I was mostly joking lol. What Gideon says about her being in the Haligtree, but potentially being dead would give us indication that she may not be in a good state when we get there. Also speaking of Gideon I always find it interesting how he never seems to elaborate much on her. There’s an option to ask about the others but not her or Mohg or Miquella. Mohg I get cause no one knows he’s the Lord of Blood. But I still think it’s funny how the All-Knowing knows nothing about the Haligtree or the twins. And then when we tell him about Miquella he’s like “maybe we should kill him because I do not want to be around if he wakes up”

I agree with what you say about the bloom. Despair seems to be a key factor according to Gowry and while I tend to take a lot of what he says with a grain of salt, he does seem to be on to something there. It certainly seems to be the case with Millicent given the two outcomes of her questline. I don’t doubt it would be the same for Malenia as well. During her fight with Radahn she was physically and mentally exhausted by the end, making it harder to fight off the rot, which we know takes a lot of willpower on her part. Then there’s the possibility of her failing to win the war. You put all that into perspective and it’s easy to see why she acted out of desperation like that. That feeling of despair is bound to set in. This is all just my speculation though as I know it’s a very controversial topic at this point. It’s hard to discuss these things at times as there’s so many people who think the war was over nothing and Malenia just threw a tantrum because she couldn’t beat the Big Man and she just wanted to maintain her undefeated status. It’s so funny I swear, if she didn’t have that line about never knowing defeat people wouldn’t be so upset over this.

"During the first bloom, she fights with purpose. During the second, she's not expecting a fight. In both cases, whyever would she instinctually willingly go down just because she's "not supposed to win"?"

Yeah this is something that’s always confused me with this fandom. Because I am genuinely curious as to how people think Malenia should have responded in either situations. People seem to think she should have let both Radahn and the tarnished win simply because it would have been easier for both us and him, instead of using everything at her disposal to try and take us both out. They act like she should have just lay down and died. I mean god forbid Malenia fights with everything she has. This is like that argument I saw a while ago that was like “why does Malenia attack us on site?” I mean are people really mad at that?? We break into her home and stand in front of her armed to the teeth looking for a fight. It’s hardly surprising she wants to kill us lmao. The amount of bosses that do the same thing and yet no one ever complains when Godfrey opens his fight by launching at us in a similar way.

Sorry this just turned into a rant post. I appreciate the message anon and again I’m sorry I took so long to reply and didn’t really have much to say <3

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Jukebox reviews part 45! For context, see my post “A Project” under  this same tag. If you want to see a full list of his EMCSA stories,  they can be found here, sorted alphabetically.And if you want to see some of his drabbles, check out his blog at @jukeboxemcsa

Easily Led

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3/30/2019                                     mc mf md

Aw, this one's pretty cute and sweet, for how total the brainwashing is. It's more of a view of the end of the process (or, well, *an* end, I could see how he could find new things to brainwash her with if he wanted), so it's lacking some of the parts I enjoy most, but they're definitely into each other and the process and it's almost wholesome, in a "she's been brainwashed to be helpless on her own" sort of way. 8/10 spirals 

 You Broke Like Glass

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4/6/2019                                       mc mm

This one's fairly mean-spirited. And I can kinda understand someone wanting to be mean to their boss, but even so I just don't like the mean ones. Add in using amnesia to make Wayne question his reality this way ... it just isn't my thing. The description of the process, of what's going on in Wayne's head, is amazing, but it just isn't a flavor I want. 6/10 spirals 

 S.O.S.

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4/13/2019                                     mc mf ff md ma cb

Oh, that's *clever.* Also it's a Wild Rose and Sharpe story, so you know it's going to be fun. I adore these characters so much, and seeing them in action is always a delight. The everything in play here, the new villain... all of it's lovely. The mind control itself is pretty meh, whatever, it's magic-level tech, but still, it's a good story. 9/10 spirals 

 Dolly Dagger

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4/20/2019                                     mc mf ff fd

I love the "why do you assume voodoo how rude is that" take in this story, it's absolutely lovely. That's also the  main thing I like - this is a story of magic, and also the abuse of same. There's some good subtle influence as the magic starts to take shape, but mostly it's just a story of a (justifiably) angry man and a witch who doesn't seem to have ever heard any warnings of what you do with power coming back to you, and I just don't like either of them. 4/10 spirals 

 Just Like Christmas

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4/27/2019                                     mc ff

SO CUTE! Also plenty of heat, but it's the cute and shy way Paula approaches the topic that... well, I *remember* being like her. It's been over a decade since then, but I remember all the same. And seeing Duchess going from flirtatious to serious when they start talking about consent? yes, I love that. And the induction, using Tiana as a way to help get Paula into trance, just ... all of it is good and solid and hot and I love it. This is something completely grounded in "it could happen" realism, and I love every moment of it. 10/10 spirals 

 Candy Coated

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5/4/2019                                       mc

This is a clever induction theme, using candy as a metaphor for a mind melting away... even if my preferred trance-y candy is chocolate, which doesn't get mentioned. Fudge does, but fudge and flavored chocolate are different things. And feeding someone a flavored chocolate, seeing them melt into trance as it melts on their tongue? A+, 10/10 would do again. But that isn't this induction, for all it's closely related. The way Jukebox ties the way sugar melts into melting into trance is super good, and I love it, even if I'm less motivated by the sticky "treat" of an orgasm, because I can just be Like That. 8/10 spirals 

 This Is Just 4 U

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5/11/2019                                     mc ff

Well, that's sure a place for this story to go. The way the tension of not having direction, not having a master, builds and resolves is solid, and the command at the end.... oh, this remains such a good plot. I can see it's going to be bad for 4U and her Master, probably, but all the same. 9/10 spirals 

 Remind Me to Forget

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5/18/2019                                     mc ma

... no, I totally didn't just send this link to a friend with a "you'll enjoy this, you shoudl read it", whyever would I do that? Oh, you mean the main character made me think of her, especially just how conditioned to the scent of lavender she is? Ah, well, true. Which is to say I really enjoyed this story, and was picturing a lovely, sweet, tech-y metamour for most of the story, even if the description of the gal just dosn't quite match said metamour. Doesn't matter tho, because I can so definitely see my metamour doing exactly this sort of electronics programming someday just for fun, just because she loves being a brainwashed dolly. Which all sums up to "not my usual style, but it doesn't matter because it's just that good" 10/10 spirals 

 In Your Memory

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5/25/2019                                     mc mf ff md

Ooof, this isn't a fun use of amnesia, though there's definitely power in the "you can't resist me modifying your memories so how can you resist any other thing I do" that in a different context could be really hot. But in this one it just turns my stomach a little. I'm not the target audience for this one - not with the implied betrayal, at least - but if you like someone being trapped when trying to rescue a friend, the implication that their friend is helping to bend them to the hypnotist's will, and ruthless memory modification, give it a go. 6/10 spirals 

 Quick Like a Flash

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6/8/2019                                       mc ff

This is a good story. It also makes me think of my Fae-like girlfriend who enjoys using a suggestion that gives me "the gift of perfect obedience" - her words, not mine. Or, apparently, Jukebox's words, for all this story sure has a Fae creature using exactly that same phrase towards the end. Because sometimes life does indeed imitate art. And Queen Maeve does have that perfect sort of Fae energy that can be so much fun. I could do without the "I'll use you to control everyone who watches your show" element, that's not my speed, but that's really my only quibble. And also my girlfriend got many keysmashes over just how much of a "but. but. This is? Jukebox stop using the magic prophecy typewriter already" moment it was. But that's ok, she likes seeing me flustered. 9/10 spirals

[mealvaan]

My Secret Companion

A thing of thin fur and crosshatched thread, the cloak is brought to her muzzle and subjected to a deep —

Snfff…

It’s passable despite not having washed it for two sennights, she decides. The faint tang is a low priority compared to her privacy, an invaluable resource of which she’d found herself scant. To fetch a bucket, hand-wash the material and hang it up by the fire would all poke holes in her discretion. Besides, what was the Brume if not oddly odored in its entirety? 

The hood is billowy enough to cast a shadow, yet narrow enough to conceal the points of her ears. Under its shelter, she passes as an Ishgardian hyur. Diminutive, softly featured, rosy cheeked. The blond tresses that poke out of the garment’s maw could be attributed to just about any street urchin. 

She gives the ratty thing a spin in front of the mirror. Even though she’s pulled this juvenile heist off a few times now, her heart still swells seeing what an excellent job she can do when left to her own devices. There’s something about being dressed down that feels like a life’s debt paid. Having none of the gilded clasps, fickle jewelry, nor tightly drawn corset that so often cling to her form, she can finally move as a person should.

No longer Imogen de Lafontaine, daughter to the Baron.

Just Imogen. 

Gentle footfalls tamp upon the manor’s carpeted steps, her fingers hovering ilms over the polished railing. Her shadow blurs between dimly cast puddles of light. Around the bend, the door to the garden slides into focus. From here, it’s only a hop over the fence—

“Dear?”

Etraux rounds the corner.

This is a light few ever witness him in. His silken hair, oft cascading in a deliberate curtain, is put up in a ponytail with several strands loose. His dressing gown is a gaudy sort of thick furs and golden hems. Held aloft by crooked wrist is a large mug of Ishgardian Tea, a serving too generous for an afternoon repast, cradled in a small parchment bulletin issued by Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral — whose brown ring betrays its true nature as a makeshift coaster.

Rarely does the stiff browline that heralds his face move. He’s clearly surprised to see his daughter. The feeling is apparently mutual as Imogen skitters to a stop. 

“Pa! I thought you were going to have dinner at House Haillenarte. What happened?”

“Dinner has since been…” Etraux takes pause. “Postponed, for the time being.”

“Is that not a dire appointment? Since Elvide passed, we are still in need of a guard for the third shift.”

Etraux’s eyes are briefly aflutter.

“Ah, I am well aware. Worry not for that. Ivant has offered to take the third shift in her stead when he has time between training, and Ser Paulemont shall be extending his shift otherwise. Wickedness shall find no purchase under this roof between their watches.”

Belatedly, Imogen realizes what her father’s expression meant: bewilderment.

“Whyever would House Haillenarte cancel? Did they provide you with a reasonable explanation?” She steps forward a mere fulm, hers a visage of practiced curiosity. 

Though his swordsmanship training hand ended cycles ago, Etraux can tell when he’s being put on the back foot.

“The flu,” he responds succinctly. “Now, why are you dressed in this way?” A gesture runs from her crown to her feet, the cloak obscuring the lot of her limbs. 

Imogen’s first food forward retreats. She has yet to inherit her father’s deft dishonesty. 

“I wished to… take a seat out in the garden, but the evening is cold, and so—“

“You have much nicer coats than this, dear.” He takes a hand to one of the fabric’s wings and runs its coarse texture between his fingers, nostrils flaring. “How long have you had this? I would never have purchased this for you. What is that smell?”

“It was… was…” Her bottom lip cushions her two front teeth, a bastion against the nervousness that threatens her little operation. “Elvide bought it for me cycles ago. I would not have worn it either, but I was missing her presence, and so…”

Under the harsh glare of Etraux’s appraising sights, she feints wilting. A hand grips the simple clasp of her accoutrement, head no longer poised in intrigue but rather hanging in shame. This is only half deceit. In all truth, she is bashful. Shame picks at her hems. All could be unraveled here.

“Very well. Do not stay out longer than a bell lest you catch a cold. You can accompany me to the Crozier tomorrow if you are in need of fresh air. Alright?”

“Alright.”

Etraux takes her into a spacious hug. Loving guardian as he is, he’d rather her smell not rub off on him.

“Goodnight, dear.”

“Goodnight, Pa.”

Pursuing a much slower promenade than her earlier hurry, Imogen eventually takes her place in the garden. The moonlight barely illuminates the frigid flora in her midst, all appearing frozen in time. She steals glimpses of the warm main foyer where Etraux sets his tea upon the service bulletin every so often. 

After ten minutes, she returns to her quarters.

...

Dear Addie,

I’m sorry that I didn’t show up last night.

It was more difficult to leave than I’d originally anticipated. I’ll have to lay low for the next few suns just to throw him off. Honestly, with fathers like these, you should be glad you don’t know yours.

Maybe that joke was too much. I bet you laughed though. 

When you write back, could you tell me how it went anyhow? I’m just really disappointed that I missed it. I will be there for next sennight’s performance though. 

Sincerely,

Im

...

Dearest Sylvie,

I hope this letter finds you in good graces, rather than being cast into the hearth.

I understand that you need be vigilant with regard to those that watch you. I also understand that my brazenness during our previous meeting did not sit kindly with you, and you are still angry with me for my transgressions.

As you know, I myself am still truly, deeply sorry for the ways in which I may have hurt your feelings, endangered your reputation, and otherwise acted against your wishes. I found myself unable to sleep last night as I imagined what our dinner together could have been had I not acted out of turn. Know that it pains me to be apart from you, and I hope that we can reconcile ere long.

While my apology remains, I wish to say only this in excuse. I adore you, Sylvie. I long for a time where you and I are together where the Twelve may bear witness. I am brazen because our love is not that which should be hidden beneath floorboards, akin to a pair of rodents. What freedom Isarmoix has between the two of you is not a freedom he deserves.

I daresay the Fury would feel the same.

Sincerely yours,

Etraux

[benjamin-vague]

The Lotus House of Endings

With

Every word

And every meager madling hour,

With every breath: here I am,

Here I remain, here I have always been.

This world is a confusion of senses,

Sometimes sapling-soft and sweet and

Sometimes steel-gleaming, always seeming

To me like a madness-born dream

Of things I see but don't wish to see.

Simply existing leaves me breathless!

What is this? What is this?

And I am

To make sense of it?

Under godless skies,

How can I permit the absurdity of needing

To be this, needing to be that, according

To some design rambling down long listless

Centuries as if driven by the a blind madman's

Hand fearing his own death?

I look down and see my own hand:

The flesh, the cobweb-knuckled cruxes of fingers

Made for grasping, never keeping. I see the nails

Chewed down to wretched knubs

And I think, "What a wonder! Whyever

Should I be this or that -- do this or that --

When I am

Only

And ever

Myself: inescapable as tides

From the dominant moon?"

Flesh, O yes, but also

Mind and will and dream; past and future;

A silvered thread unspooling through these

Time-struck streets I walk

(A mighty oak branches overhead, curling

A well-leafed greendream 'cross the tickled sky;

I am grateful, thank you, thank you for

This kindness in your shadow)

Fraying closer, closer now, so sweetly close,

Toward an end I can't surmise

But often devise. What does it mean?

What does it mean?

And the answer I keep is:

Nothing, I suppose, but for the act of dream,

To tell the centuries what they are,

To story-tell society into something

Greater, heart-kinder and mind-brighter than

What it is or has become,

Stricken with cancer and gobbling

Itself up in the fury of a trapped animal.

Oh, I am tired.

I am so very, very tired. And there is

So much sadness in the dream,

In the eyes of the other dreamers

Still trapped in the animal's throes;

There is still so far to walk toward

The Lotus House of Endings

that waits to keep me

Forevermore.

With sighs as steps and these

Endless eyes that struck

Too deep, I continue.

And the truth is,

I don't care what happens

Any more. All I can truly permit

Is that I am here,

Here I will remain,

Just as

Here I have

Always

Been.

[wheretheresaway-theresawilliam]

Chapter 4: A Rich Man's Son

Word Count: 973

TWs: Parental arguments

⛤⛤⛤

“Will Michael be presentable for dinner?” William asked in a hushed tone. He stood opposite to his wife in several senses. Some could compare William to a taller, more well-kept Santa Claus, while Margarete may as well have been a splinter in the pad of his thumb. Where William was more internal with his battles, Margarete was outwardly neurotic.

“He better be,” she growled. “Comes in the house covered head to toe in dirt and oil, whyever did you let him take up that mechanics apprenticeship??”

“Because he was booted from the hockey team and I needed him out of the house for as long as possible, Margarete.”

“Why can't you get control of him? Where's his respect, why hasn't he turned out like Elizabeth?”

William stared at her with a briefly surprised expression before folding his arms. “Why can't you?”

“Excuse me?”

“He's your son, too, you know.”

She laughed hysterically, nearly spilling her wine. “Compare me to that whore, will you?!”

“Shhh!” William glanced anxiously back toward the living room. “Need I remind you that we have a guest? Or have you finally given up on upholding our glittering reputation?”

“I can see why you'd gravitate toward someone like her, though. You’re perfect for each other.” Margarete snorted while William's ears burned. He snatched the wine glass out of her hand, stepping close enough for her to feel his breath.

“Kitchen. Now.”

Fussing under her breath, Margarete turned on her heel and stomped away to the kitchen to finish any last-minute preparations. William sighed heavily, running a hand over his face before pouring what was left of Margarete's wine into the pot of a nearby houseplant and returning to the living room.

“I do apologize for my disappearance… could I get you another spritzer?”

Norman shook his head. “No, but thank you for the offer. And don’t worry about it… I'm just, er, happy to be here, heh.”

Oh, you poor thing. William had to physically bite his tongue to keep him from uttering it aloud. He dusted off his hands absently after putting the empty wine glass atop the liquor cabinet. “Well, dinner will begin shortly, now that Michael's gotten off his shift. I forgot that he worked tonight.”

“Where does he work?”

Ugh, horrible idea to mention him at all. “The mechanic's shop on Page Street.”

“Ah. Doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, then.” Norman spoke lightly and William forced a smile.

“That he doesn't. Speak of the devil…”

Michael had appeared, less than happy, in the doorway. He wore a grey baseball tee and flare-leg jeans, his hair so permed it made him completely unrecognizable from the rest of his family. His skin was also notably a few shades warmer, practically brown next to his father. “What happened to the button-down I left out for you?”

“Gee, dad, that monkey suit upstairs was for me?”

William cleared his throat, eyes blazing at the comment. Michael glanced at Norman as he walked further into the room.

“Right.” He offered his hand. “I'm Mike.”

Norman stood and shook it. “Norman, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The teenager rolled his eyes. “I'm sure.”

“Michael, that's quite enough. The least we can do is show Norman we aren't a pack of uncivilized animals by having a nice dinner with the man. Now, why don’t you make small talk while I check that everything’s ready?” William gladly excused himself from the conversation, leaving Norman and Michael to their own devices. The two stood around awkwardly. Norman could tell Michael would rather be doing anything else and began racking his brain for something he might be interested in talking about.

“Your dad told me you work at the mechanic's shop.”

“Yeah, and?? Who are you, anyway?”

“... I suppose he didn't tell you… why would he? I just started work at Fredbear's and he wanted to congratulate me on surviving the week.” Norman was practically glowing as he reminded himself of why he was even here. Michael stared at him.

“William must really like you. What do you even do at that place?”

It was a little jarring to hear the man's son refer to him by his first name, but he quickly recovered and answered, “I'm just a janitor at the moment.”

A grin spread on Michael's face. “You know what that makes you?”

“What??”

“The biggest loser I've ever met, and that's saying something because have you seen my brother??”

Norman frowned, shrinking away from Michael's unkind words. “Don’t you think that's a bit rude?”

“Does the phrase, ‘go suck a lemon,’ mean anything to you?”

“Michael, go get your brother and sister. It’s time to eat,” William’s oddly calm voice made them both whip around to face him, unsure of how long he had been standing there.

“Yes sir,” Michael responded with a mocking salute, speeding out of the room. Norman silently followed William to their dining room.

“Do tell me if Michael was rude to you at all. We've been working on curving that vicious tongue of his.” William prompted softly as they walked.

“It was fine,” Norman lied. “He was mostly quiet. We talked about his job.”

William's expression became puzzled. “Quiet? Doesn't sound like him at all.”

Norman shrugged. “I guess I wouldn't know. Maybe he met a chick.”

William laughed. “Yes, very good. Michael, getting himself a girlfriend. Brilliant.”

When they entered the dining room, William drew out a chair for Norman. “You'll be sitting between my sons, I hope that's alright.”

“Fine by me. Whatever you've cooked smells delicious.” Norman sat, anxious to get on with the night.

“I do hope you'll like it, but I won't spoil the surprise.~”

When Michael, Elizabeth, and Evan entered the dining room, William directed them to their respective seats, then disappeared into the kitchen to help Margarete serve the food.

[capnportofficial]

Starting a small series- snippets of writing from Smurfs WIPs I'll probably never publish

#1- a scholar's musing on the tale of orpheus and eurydice

(aka hadestown inspired me to make a story where brainy compared himself and clumsy to eurydice and orpheus)

Once upon a time, there was a youth- Orpheus- with a beautiful voice. Nothing could resist Orpheus's beautiful melodies, neither enemies nor beasts. Some say he was arrogant, some innocent, some dreamy and light-headed. Perhaps he was foolish, with a heart of gold but head of stone. Perhaps his voice wasn't so much beautiful as it was captivating- a strange accent, a melodic cadence, that made everyone who heard it want to listen even more. Perhaps it wasn't his voice that captured people's hearts, but the way he was- kind speech, kind heart, and all of this true to himself.

Once upon a time, there was a youth- Eurydice- who was beautiful in appearance and graceful in her movements. Not much is told about this young maiden, so she could be anything we want. Perhaps she wasn't the sweetest of maidens, but instead felt her emotions so strongly she couldn't keep them inside, and they spilled out in outbursts. Perhaps she was lonely. Perhaps she had dreams and aspirations of her own- to be known, to be appreciated. And perhaps that is why she fell in love with Orpheus, because he was the only one who loved her back.

For Orpheus and Eurydice were deeply, truly, in love. Who knows when they fell in love- perhaps they had known each other all their lives, and it happened slowly. They were close as could be, and each loved the other. Who knows why Orpheus loved Eurydice? Even I, who knows near everything, does not know why he cared for her. Not when he could get anything he wanted. But he did love her, and she loved him.

Once upon a time, there was a viper. A sneaky snake, hiding in the grass, or perhaps hiding under a guise of benevolence. Once upon a time, Eurydice left Orpheus, ran away, fled. Some say she was fleeing from another man, some that she was dancing with her friends, some just going for a stroll. Perhaps she believed she was no longer loved, and faced with the crushing weight of loneliness, she fled her home. Who can say?

Whyever it was she left, Eurydice, alone, drifted down to Hades, down to the fields of asphodel. The endless repetitions of the dead, the loneliness she had tried to avoid, her memories drifting away from her in the River Lethe.

When Orpheus discovered Eurydice was gone, he went to search for her. Of course, he went to search for her, why wouldn’t he search for her?

[kaziaxd]

have some questions for Gex -- 4, 8, 11, 45, 59

Thank you for the ask! I have done by best to answer them but uh. some are more answered than others djaslkfjds.

4 - what one person, place, or thing do they love more than anything else?

I don't know if I have an answer to this - hell, I don't know if Gex has an answer to this. I think Gex has a hard time pinning down what love as an emotion really is, and ranking that undefinable thing? Not really something he knows how to do. He loves the party, of course (maybe not Rhiann yet. especially after what happened last session jsflkddkjfs sorry alder), and his mentor Balthazar, but nothing is ranked as 'more than anything else'.

8 - what songs remind you of them? if there are specific lyrics or movements, list ‘em!

I. should start make character playlists but I do not know enough songs to do so. Instead I will say that I don't think Gex would be a listening to music person - I think if he had access to music readily he would mainly listen to classical music to help focus, which sounds both pretentious and sad now that I'm writing it down jakldsjf.

11 - if they have a pet or animal companion, how do they spend time with them? if they don’t have one, what sort of animal would they be interested in raising, if any?

Gex has his raven familiar (Sjach)! I do keep on forgetting about him 😔both in game and out. I think them together makes for quite a striking pair given that they are almost the same height. Sjach spends most of his time in the demiplane because he is not nocturnal and the party has been nocturnal for the past few months jlkfsjakf. I think they spend time together by sitting in the same room, both doing their own thing but being slightly less alone - Sjach definitely keeps Gex company on long nights when he's studying whatever book Balthazar has given him.

45 - what lies do they tell themselves?

Oh, Gex tells himself so many lies. all the time. he's riddled with em. um but more seriously he lies to himself about how he's feeling (he's doing fine, thank you very much, whyever would you think otherwise?). He lies about how he feels about having the worm in his head (because having an Ancient spirit in your head that may or may not be able to read your mind and can see out of your eyes? is terrifying and if he thinks about it for too long it makes his head all scrambly so he tries not to) He lies to himself about how he's afraid of becoming his first mentor. He's mentally healthy aha what are you talking about

59 - what’s an element of their philosophy that you disagree with?

hmm. Gex is quite a self insert in a lot of ways and I do think he and I share a lot of morals. That being said I do not condone killing and well. he is in an adventuring party. as a rogue. I think he is a lot more self sacrificial than I am. He also cares less about the general people and is more. selfish in that he cares about his friends and family but also selfless in that he doesn't really care about himself? He's also a lot more 'do what it takes to survive' and 'go with the flow' which he is working to not be like! But when you live in magically irradiated sewers for a number of years with a feral kobold tribe it uh. does some stuff to your brain. He's a little fucked up. as a treat.

[wedthrice]

She is entirely too comfortable here, laid out atop a bed of blankets borrowed from the rooms of Highgarden, cozied up with Daphne and away from the loving chaos of her family. Is there any better way to be?  ❛❛ Would it be awful for me to admit that I spent the entire time I was in his presence thinking instead about this little picnic of ours? ❜❜  The most unladylike of giggles flow from her lips for a moment, rising and floating and drifting away on the breeze.

❛❛ I am no queen yet, ❜❜  It falls somewhere between a teasing reminder and a tepid rebuke, if she were at all capable of the latter when it comes to the darling Diamond of the Reach. Her darling Diamond, Margaery rephrases in her own mind, a touch of smugness lent to the thought. Lord Kent certainly does not get such an honour, does he? Nor should he, fool that he is, and from such a minor noble house. That he even thinks either of them might make for a wife is almost offensive, no matter how pretty a face he happens to be in possession of.

The Lady Daphne was quick to recover, but it does not slip the rose's attention (nothing much does); the way that laughter was cut short so suddenly, no matter how prompt the return of sweetness. Even if she does not know precisely what is going on in the other's mind –– a point of great annoyance, really, because Margaery yearns to know every inch of and every edge to her –– she does know that there was something to unsettle her, if even for only a moment.  ❛❛ Whyever are we talking about forgettable lords when we could be talking about anything else, hm? ❜❜  She props herself up a little on her elbows, studying Daphne intently, from the fineness of her features to the way her hair falls over her shoulder to the way her eyes seem to glitter everytime she looks at her.

" You’re the only person I’ve ever met who seems to have the faintest conception of what I mean when I say a thing. " - Virginia Woolf

Under the heat of the sun, in a field covered with wildflowers and where the breeze delights in song, two bodies lay interwoven on ivory blankets. Legs tangled up in one another, fingers delicately trailing over each limb. They themselves are blossoming flowers, ever so radiant under the basking sun. In this garden, well tucked away from the prying eyes of others, well protected from judgment, laughter echoes with the dancing of the trees. 

Daphne believed there could be nothing more that could make her happy; none at all but this. It is a rare thing, for sure, to be adored, but it is the rarest of all, to be seen and understood. Margaery sees her, for all that she is. All her hopes, her dreams, her flaws, things that bring her happiness, sorrowful woes. Even upon her debut into the seven kingdoms with the amass of suitors on her beck and call, there was no one else. There was only them. There was only her rose.

She leans forward. The other’s fiery red tresses ensnared in the tips of her fingers. Her scent itself rivaling that of the wildflowers around them. She trails a lingering finger from the other’s arm down to her waist, a curve she could memorize over and over. A gentle sigh escapes her blush coloured lips. "   So what did you think of Lord Kent? He is quite dashing. Though if I do say so myself, he is incredibly daft.  " A wisp of laughter stopped abruptly by her own thoughts. She is daring her own fate, uttering words to gauge the other’s affections. She has an answer she wants to hear. ‘You do not think of him, though. Because you only think of me. Right?’ Nonetheless, her manicured smile returns; curated to perfection. An armour she wears relentlessly. "  If you are to marry I would atleast demand he take history lessons. He is no match for a queen.  "

A Song of Ice and Fire verse, with @wedthrice.

[panharmonium]

i see teen wolf decided to go whole hog on the ‘romantic relationships that appear out of nowhere and have zero prior foundation’ subplots