#you can take a horse to water but you cannot make them drink

[phalangemedes]

I kept this in my drafts cause I was gunna expand on it, but I dunno if I need to. Either way, I thought it was interesting that the refugee trio from Canaan are all just different aspects of Grief represented through the kaleidoscope of their personhood. Because mourning is a spectrum, no more or less vivid for the death being metaphorical or literal, and there’s been some weird hot takes that more or less emotive grieving is ‘strange’ or whatever, so, onward!

Judith is unable to feel her own emotions (or at least with any depth) because she's made herself an emotional void, due to training (Cohort AND Second expectations), repression and losing Marta. She was already constipated and that tipped her over to cutting her own throat so she’d emotionally starve.

The last emotive thing she had was oh captain my captain levels of obsession for the woman that rejected her romantically, DUTY, and with equal verve the self loathing for wanting that.

(Also she was being medically maltreated by BoE and then used as a Duracell so y'know, you can not like the woman for being an unsympathetic hypocrite but also, rough ol' time for Jodypops)

Corona has used the flamboyance of her emotions as a manipulation tactic since she was like.. 5 and oops it suddenly stopped working! The tits, the smiles and the twinkly eyes have no effect in camo land, if anything, they are tired of her shit and only “warm up” to her when she starts submitting to them in ways they understand (Re: BoE are a hierarchy and she is Not the top rung). She's also grieving Ianthe not wanting her (worse, choosing BABS) and failing to throw her Pretty Girl weight around as much as she used to, whilst cosplaying a Cav to feel worth something (habitual, comforting).

On top of that, she’s bouncing from pillar to post in an attempt to be desired because her worth is locked up in other’s perception of her. (She fails so hard to connect with anyone she starts chatting up G2deon's corpse like.. It's SAD even if she's Tridentarii heinous (affectionate insult))

And Camilla is forcing herself not to feel because she doesn't have time for a breakdown. She's tick listing how to “make things right” through torture (shock bracelet) being used as a means of coercion for Judith (also torture) having what was left of Pal taken away from her (I mean this literally and figuratively, because his skull, then hand, are hope AND HIM) ((likewise the BETRAYAL from a necro and a cav about it)) and being denied doing GOOD (denial of treatment of Judith). I think honestly she reacts the most MUNDANELY, by just... powering through, keeping busy, not thinking about it because then it'll be real.

And she doesn't let herself break until Paul, because she’s still trying to fix everything until the very moment it’s un-fixable. (And in some ways Palamedes takes the burden of it for her, by giving her the choice, the "it's okay, now, you can feel". All that time, bottling the HURT because she has to be useful because if she's not useful what's left? It's the vice of grief as you excuse yourself from the young woman you're caring for, it's locking the bathroom door, sitting in the bath and your body betraying you with the mother and fucker of a panic attacks. It's getting punched in the solar plexus because you turned around to make a comment and not only is that person gone, but they aren’t coming back.

None of them are any more or less tragic, but they are all acceptable and staggeringly normal forms of grieving.

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Weedequitte

Asks are open my little giggle biscuits!

Scout

He hands that joint back WET

Slobber dripping off the sides, the tips cold when you go to take a puff, and you can see the corner of his mouth glisten

If Scout ever got high he would have munchies and get scared. He would have to go outside and walk around, maybe even hug a tree for comfort

Coughing and gagging in the most annoying way possible. Like that one cat picture with its protruding tongue and watery eyes void of complex thought

Scout couldn’t handle a bong. Just couldn’t. Stick to a cold can of bang! He might try to make a bong outta a bang can, but he won’t figure it out

Soldier

Do not give him weed.

Do not give him anything.

Dont give him any drug hes insane nuts bonkers and, yes, even bananas

He took acid once by mistake. Ended up in Europe a year after the war ended

Soldier is borderline on a good day but king will spiral into a drug induced psychosis. There will be bugs, skin, and a whole lot of paperwork for Medic

Wouldn’t even smoke he’s a total fucking narc too

Says devils lettuce

Demoman

Uses every weed euphemism known to man

Mary J is his fav. Kush, grass, gas, doubie, all of them

Approaches Sniper while the poor bastard making his trek between camper and civilization. Demo does an insinuating chuckle and says, ‘let’s make love to that wee lass Mary J’

Sniper starts running

He prefers drinking but this guy smoked some grass back in the day. Doesn’t fuck around and can pass a blunt without falling out

In half baked, Demo is the guy who gets munchies and accidentally kills the horse

Will smoke with Sniper and always provides what he can or hits a curtesy role, but he doesn’t pursue weed much and if snipes didn’t share, probably wouldn’t smoke

It does help the pain from his missing eye!

Pyro

One time, he got wild.

Pyro burned down an entire pot grow and was absolutely spazzing off that za rolling his way down the mountain

They were on the astral plane the entire hike down. Pyro crashed through the trees, crawled, laughed hysterically, cried, and vomited. Pyro drank water from a creek thinking it was the fountain of immortality

Pyro befrinded a squirrle named Banabo Jo. He knew Jo and knew his people were wise and brave. Banabo Jo recognized Pyro’s mystical capabilities and ability to see beyond, thus creating a mutual respect and brotherhood.

Banabo Jo guided Pyro from the mountain top and into the Heart of the Valley. He watched over as Pyro awaited rescue and gave the sacred squirrel farewell through the van window

(hypersensitive to drug induced psychosis)

Heavy

Rolls a blunt on Medic’s back and smokes it while they fuck

Smokes weed but only pipes. Very rarely will roll with paper, typically in the aforementioned situation

He can do some of the smoke tricks like puffing out O’s. He cannot french inhale and tbh has a chronic stuffy nose 😏

Medic

Wholeheartedly believe in and support the usage of medical marijuana

Smoked a little weed in university, but his classmates were too scared of him to invite him to the smoke sesh

He kinda gives off narc vibes!! Completely chill though, unless he could gain from blackmailing you

Asks if Sniper wants to puff and Sniper is shocked! Medic uses pompous words like oder tho and not the German oder

Arches his back so Heavy can sprinkle some flower on him for the roll-hole ritual

Engineer

Scene in Top Gun, “we’re in the spirit world asshole!” HIM OKAY HIM

Builds intricate and sick as fuck bong structures, dab rigs, and some real crazy stoner shit.

He love getting blazed and tinker with something, but that did cost him the tip of his pinkie finger

He’s a lightweight and really just skims a hit or two and bounces

Totally hotboxes that fucking workshop

Spy

He’s a classy kind of smoker

No weed inside, at least not his house. Very discreet about it and even if he was just in the world’s foggiest hotbox, he would never snell like week

No weed smell ever it’s incredible

Mainly sticks to cigarettes but he will smoke with Sniper.

Smoking, whether it be weed or cigarettes, is a form of foreplay for them fr

He never has cotton mouth either

Sniper!!

Save the best for last bc he is a canon pothead

Sniper just tries to be a chill guy. Go to work, fire a gun, smoke some weed. Would he like more? Sure. But is he okay where he’s at? Good enough

The first to discover his gardening habit was Spy. The whole breaking and entering thing really gives away secrets

Sniper has SO MUCH TEA. Various team members come to him and smoke, which is cool with him. He prefers when they replenish his stash, though. Or at least give him something in return

When they smoke they also complain. Inhibitions are dropped and suddenly Sniper knows that Demo is pissed at Medic for not letting him drink rubbing alcohol, every though Demo knew it would kill him, because he and Pyro were trying to light a burp on fire

He only enjoys smoking with Spy and Ms. Pauling. Pauling is fun and they talk mad shit together, maybe do something stupid on a minor scale

Spy and Sniper venture into the bush if yk what im saying. Weed is just kinda a plus but Spy can get too zesty sometimes

[thedissonantverses]

I saw a post circulating with common nonlethal injuries then I remembered I know medical stuff and like to do dangerous activities in the wilderness. Here’s some environmental hazards for your writing. This is for fiction purposes only and not real medical advice. I’m throwing more realistic but fun conditions that you commonly see if you hang out outside a lot. This got long and I talk gross medical stuff in a humorous way under the cut so ya know. Self-select.

Altitude Sickness- Causes dizziness, difficulty breathing, confusion, nausea, headache and fatigue. You treat by bringing this person back out of elevation and hydrating them. Can be caused easily above 6,000 feet of elevation or 1.83 km so if you characters are on a mountain it’s something that can be fun to take into consideration.

Dehydration or its cousin Hyponatremia- Essentially dehydration is cause by too little fluid and Hyponatremia is caused by too little salt. They have similar symptoms such as nausea, headache, dizziness, confusion. But the latter is caused by drinking way too much water and you need to eat salt to treat it. So uh don’t confuse the two…anyways if you’re mean you can mix and match with altitude sickness. (I don’t know if people still do this but don’t drink your own urine for any reason)

Snakes! Did you know snakes can either kill you really fast or….they’ll just really, really suck. Also don’t have your characters suck the venom out it does not work and that’s how we get infections. If it’s something like a pit viper you want antivenom and a doctor(or your fantasy equivalent)

Lightning-Causes fire in droughts and electrocution in wet. The safest place to stand in a storm is not in a cave if the floor is wet. The lightning will ricochet! Also tree shrapnel is a thing. Trees explode when hit by lightning. It’s cool when you’re not standing next to it.

Stinging nettle- This one’s fun because it’s a plant made of silica that breaks off in your skin. Causes a rash. It hurts. But if you break it right it makes tea.

My nemesis, poison oak(or ivy or sumac): This is an evil devil plant that most of us are allergic to but other animals can eat. Its Latin name means plant of many forms because it is everywhere all the time. It cannot be contained. What the fuck nature. It probably won’t kill you but it does need steroids when it’s on mucous membranes. Causes a rash and the oil cannot be washed off without soap. It itches like a motherfucker and if you get it in a cut or inhale it by accidentally burning it, it will cause a systemic reaction. Seek help.

Hypothermia-So like I know cuddling naked in a sleeping bag but really what needs to happen is feed this person a lot of calories and get them to exercise. Ya know. Depending on the tone. Mix and match with altitude sickness(I mean I’ve tried it don’t recommend but ya know it’s way more fun if it’s a fictional character)

Stinging/Biting insects- A lot of stings and bites are non-lethal if you don’t live in like fucking Australia. Scorpions tend not to kill, are just really painful and like to sleep in boots, and they glow in the dark. One time I dug into a hornet’s nest and got stung in the neck and ow ow ow but like I was fine but ow. There’s these insane insects in the Southeast U.S. that bur-you know what…

Unclean drinking water- Do you know what it’s like to not have clean drinking water? Do you know what horrors lurk below the surface? I do! Pathogens. They cause GI upset. Boil or filter your characters’ water. Or they get dehydrated(see above)

Trees: No joke the thing that actually scares me the most in the back country, far more than cougars or bears, are trees. They can drop branches as big as other trees called widowmakers(you can guess why). I’ve seen what looked like a perfectly healthy 70 ft tree come down and almost hit someone’s tent from a light breeze. One widowmaker was quite rude and hit my tent while I was sleeping.

Feral Horses: I am so serious. Horses are assholes. Like other ungulates they’re large and stupid and don’t have to give a damn because they’re bigger than you. They’re not majestic. Don’t pet them. I’m serious put your hand back in your pocket.

Rodents: I saw a raccoon steal a whole backpack of art supplies and squirrels eat through the wires in car engines cause the hoods were closed. Prairie dog fleas carry the bubonic plague. Turns out it’s easily treatable with modern antibiotics. All adorable. All insane.

Again, NOT SOUND MEDICAL ADVICE, I made way too many dumb jokes. If you’re curious go get some WFA training they’ll cover most of this. Some of it was found out the hard way.

[porkcutletbowl44]

Simon Riley/Reader and Keegan/Reader

Hi. I have come out of a almost 6 year writing hiatus and decided to start posting works again. (Yippie😅) I woke up in cold sweat one day about this particular story line and just started writing it down until I gathered the courage to share it... This is a snippet from the 2nd chapter I have on AO3 (I have no clue how to use AO3 in terms of writing OR Tumblr for that fact pls help 😭) but, I'd like to hear some thoughts about how it is, (yay or nay?) aaaannnnddd first ever post on Tumblr whoop! (Apologies for spelling and grammar I still haven't completely edited the chapters fully)

After a few weeks, the divorce was finalized. And those weeks quickly grew into just shy of two months. you didn't even notice, you didn't have the time to even keep up with your own body living in the present. Your daughter didn't deserve to see her mother in shambles like this. Didn't deserve to watch her parents divorce simply because of the lack of communication you hammered into her little head from a young age to express when she was frustrated her sippy cup lid wasn't screwed on all the way and spilled a sticky mess of apple juice all over her chest. Communication, that's an important ingredient. Remember. Communication cannot exist without comprehension. You can bring the horse to water but you cannot force it to drink. You thought you had it all, a loving husband, a beautiful child, a safe home, it was temporary. Ripped from your fingers like a purse stolen by a thief. You will only helplessly watch as your things are being taken from you. 

You will continue to claw at your chest and whimper like a wounded animal.

It does not get easier, even right now when it's time for Simon to take Fawn for the weekend again. You can bear the awkward tension, that silence that makes your throat close up and forces your voice to a weak frail squeak. You kept your attention somewhat busy with your work laptop, there are only four emails and you take the time to thoroughly read them, typing calmly to avoid confrontation. 

He stood in the kitchen quietly, watching your back. He had a strange lump forming in his throat, his expression hardening as he pushed down all of his emotions, trying not to focus on the guilt and hurt churning inside his chest.

You signed the papers, just like he asked you to.

Simon forced himself to speak, clearing his throat loudly, "Shouldn't you be packing Fawn's stuff?"

"Fawn insisted on packing herself," you gave a half-shrug, "I said why not? It's good for her to learn it and have the harmless joy."

He couldn't help but give a rough scoff at that. You would spoil her too easily. Simon took a few steps, setting his hands down on the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on your form.

"She'll end up forgetting somethin'. I better go help 'er." He spoke casually, intending to go to check on Fawn and help her pack But something made him hesitate, his gaze snapping back on you. It only made his chest and lungs squeeze tighter as he looked at your closed-off demeanor. His eyes zeroed in on your fingers typing lazily, a strange suffocating feeling overcame him as he tried to figure out how he should address the lack of the wedding band on your finger.

Should he pretend like everything is fine? Would you want to talk?

There was an unnatural suffocating silence that felt like an elephant in the room, a strange tension between the two of you that only made him want to hold his breath. The air was so thick and tense- so unlike the normal energy in the kitchen that was once filled with the smell of your delicious cooking and the squealing laughter of Fawn whenever Simon would occasionally rough house with you while the both of you shared the foot space to cook. 

"...You took your ring off," Simon observed in a quiet, defeated tone.

what did he expect?

you stop your typing, your fingers ghosting over typing basic Python codes to your coworker, and you look down on instinct before clearing your throat. Your finger is empty. You will not admit that you took it off once you heard the news.

"Yeah, I did. It's next to the coffee maker if you want it back—oh, congratulations on your engagement." You hesitated before even saying those words. You never thought you would have to say to Simon. Your throat was dry, and your tongue burned at each syllable. 

His heart dropped the instant your words registered in his head, his expression darkening even more than before as a harsh scoff escaped him, his hands clenching tightly into fists as he tried to ignore the sharp pain in his chest.

"What…" His jaw hardened, and a look of disbelief crossed his features, "Who the hell told you that?"

"Johnny already told me," You replied, twisting on the stool to look at him, still in your work blouse and office pants. 

"Of course he did.." He muttered beneath his breath, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Bloody Soap.."

Simon took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his expression cold and hard, his gaze dark and icy. The mention of his engagement only made his fingers clench on the counter, and his gaze darkened as he heard your cold, dry tone. His eyes shifted towards the band next to the coffee maker, his mouth twisting into a frown at the lone ring he bought you all those years ago. 

That ring had been on your finger for 7 years.

Now it lay lifeless on the counter.

How the tables have turned.

"...thanks." He muttered out quietly, before looking back down at the floor. 

"yeah well, I would have found out even if Johnny didn't tell me. I would have seen the ring on you either way." You crossed your arms loosely with a small frown. You also won't mention you saw his fiancée's post about it.

He has an unreadable expression on his face as his shoulders straightened. "It would've been a hell of a lot more polite if I was the one who told you." He muttered lowly, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his emotions in check. But the sight of you without the ring on your finger was eating away at him, like acid seeping into his skin. The mother of his child, divorced.

"You wouldn't tell me, I think that's why Johnny mentioned it...Fawn don't forget your toothbrush!" You called out, hearing her near the kitchen before bolting back down the hallway into the bathroom. You silently thank the universe for that interference. 

A humorless scoff escaped him, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Johnny knew you, he knew that you were the type to get pissed off at secrets and such. So he told you, thinking it would be easier to swallow for you. 'It's not.; Simon muttered in his head, gritting his teeth tightly as he tried to hold back his emotions.

"for the best, right?" You mumbled under your breath, looking up at him.

He could feel the pain and hurt in your gaze as you looked up at him, making his heart clench painfully the longer he looked at you.

Of course it's not for the best.

He wanted more than anything to pull you into his arms, to kiss you, tell you how he regrets ever saying something so stupid, how he wanted to take everything back.

But he didn't.

He couldn't. So all he said was a cold: "You tell me."

You didn't reply, just humming quietly in acknowledgment before Fawn's happy self came into the kitchen practically bouncing with excitement to spend time with her dad. Simon watched quietly as Fawn barreled into the room with her bag in one hand, her excitement radiating.

He tried not to let his emotions show on his face, masking it with a neutral expression as he looked over at his daughter. It was impossible to tell her parents were going through a divorce. She was still young of course, so it wasn't that surprising.

Simon just couldn't help but envy her innocence.

A bitter thought in his head made him hate himself even more.

He couldn't help but try to hold that small smile that formed at his eyes as he saw her excitement, "You 'ave everythin' you need?" The question was mainly directed at you, since you were the one that knew what she needed.

You beckoned Fawn over, kneeling before her. You softly grabbed her shoulders with an assuring smile. 

"Hairbrush? Socks and shoes? Jacket? And toothbrush?"

He hovered in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you check over Fawn, watching how gentle you were with her. Simon scoffed at this, shaking his head. "She's a mini version of you."

A pang of longing hit him, watching how you cared for her, his heart feeling heavy.

"Check, got all that," Fawn confirmed, nodding her head excitedly as her bright eyes lit up.

"Good, you did a good job packing all by yourself." You forced a smile Fawn would believe, smoothing her hair back. You were proud of her after all, doing big girl things all by herself. 

A wave of dread washed over him, he couldn't fucking stand this; that he was the reason. "Monster." something meanly cackled in the back of his head. He felt like a bastard for even having you sign those papers without fighting for it, watching everything he once had slip out of his fingers.

Watching how you forced a smile instead of truly showing it to your own fucking daughter.

God, he was a jackass.

"Remember your manners, be good, and you can call me for anything at all, okay? Anything you need, hun." You murmured, giving her little cheek a kiss.

He watched the two of you interact, his chest feeling heavy and tight. Fawn nodded her head quickly with a bright smile, giving you a big hug before waving a little.

"Bye, momma." She said cutely before rushing over to her father and grabbing his hand, waving her free one out.

His expression hardened, his gaze snapping on you as you looked away, keeping up the happy mom façade for the sake of Fawn.

He hated seeing you like this, forced to pretend like everything was okay when it was far from that. How was it fair for you to be forced to pretend to be happy? It didn't sit right with him, it just didn't feel fair. He held his eyes on you a moment longer before looking down to hold Fawn's hand in his. 

"C'mon now, let's get goin'." He murmured gruffly, trying to muster a small smile for his daughter.

The walk to the car was silent, Fawn skipping her way to the car, Simon walking beside with her little handheld in his, his expression unreadable and cold. He stopped by the backseat of the car, opening the door to let Fawn in as he looked to the passenger seat. Where you would sit. Where you will probably never sit again.

His mind warred with it, a scowl crossing his face. He wanted you in the passenger seat, just like you used to always sit in. He wanted the same routine every time he picked up Fawn from school.

But he couldn't have that.

Simon gritted his teeth, shoving those thoughts aside as he forced his expression back to a stoic one, watching as Fawn climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. He slowly shut the door with a quiet click, looking to the front and climbed into the driver's seat. The car started, and Fawn waved happily behind the window as they drove off. Mentally, you cuss Simon out to drive safely for Fawn before turning back inside. 

[streetrabbit42]

The Nature’s Palette Legacy Challenge

By StreetRabbit42 & SilverPhoenix42 aka @valkerie-queen

Needed Packs: EP: Seasons, Get Famous, Island Living, Discover University, Eco Lifestyle, Get to Work, Cat & Dogs, Snowy Escape, Cottage Living, Highschool Years, Horse Ranch, For Rent, Lovestruck GP: Outdoor Retreat, Spa Day, Jungle Adventure, Realm of Magic SP: Nifty Knitting, Crystal Creations

Generation 1: Labrador

You are a stay-at-home-parent, and a good one at that. When you get some time to yourself, you love to sit back with a ball of yarn and just zone out, making cute fluffy things for your children and future grandchildren. You love living a quiet life with your family and making sure everyone is happy.

Aspiration: Lord/Lady of the Knits

Traits: Generous, Family-oriented, Neat

Skills: Knitting, Cross-Stitching, Parenting

Career: None

World: Willow Creek, in the Foundry Cove or Courtyard Lane neighborhood

Rules:

They may have a career, but once they get married and have their first kid, they must quit.

Must have at least 3 kids

Must adopt a dog (preferably a labrador or golden retriever, but not a strict requirement)

Their kids must achieve at least a B grade in school

Their kids must have a good relationship with the Legacy Founder

Generation 2: Malachite

You loved your parent and the cozy stay-at-home environment they provided, but you always wanted to explore. You would run around the park and the neighborhood looking for adventure. So -of course- you had to follow that passion as an adult!

Aspiration: Jungle Explorer

Traits: Adventurous, Self-Assured, Active

Skills: Archeology, Fitness, Rock climbing

Career: Part-Time Diver

World: Mt. Komorebi or Tomarang

Rules:

Cannot have a full-time job

Must max 2 skills before settling down to have a family

Have no more than 2 kids

At least one of the kids must be active

Must not die until after grandchild is a child (yes, you may minorly cheat to make this happen)

When an elder, move in with heir and their child

Generation 3: Burlywood

You grew up hearing tales of your parent’s adventures, and as they got older you wanted to commit them to memory. Other people loved the stories, and you soon became a bestselling Adventure author.

Aspiration: Bestselling Author

Traits: Bookworm, Outgoing, Active

Skills: Writing, Selvadoradian Culture, Charisma

Career: Freelancer - Writer Branch

World: Brindleton Bay or Oasis Springs

Rules:

Must finish aspiration before becoming and elder

Charisma is not a mandatory max-out skill, but a preferable one

Can only have 1 child

When their parent is an elder, they must move them in

Generation 4: Fallow

You grew up hearing your grandparent’s stories and reading your parent’s books. After your grandparent passed, you wanted to reconnect with their adventures and the nature they loved so much.

Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiast

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Cheerful, Vegetarian

Skills: Herbalism, Fishing, Wellness

Career: Conservationist - Environmental Manager Branch

World: Sulani or Copperdale

Rules:

Child must know the grandparent

Must go camping in Granite Falls fairly regularly (every 2 sim-weeks)

Must take your child(ren) camping

Must have at least 2 children

Generation 5: Verdigris

You grew up going camping all the time. You practically lived in the woods. While your sibling(s) were more active and handy, you preferred to be laid-back. Nothing makes you happier than just sitting back by the water with a fishing pole and a drink in your hand.

Aspiration: Angling Ace

Traits: Bro, Loyal, Goofball

Skills: Fishing, Guitar, Mixology

Career: Part-time Fisherman OR Culinary - Mixology Branch

World: Sulani

Rules:

Mixology does not have to be maxed (but is preferable)

If you choose the mixology branch you DO NOT have to max it out

It must be a small beach-side shack

Can only have 2 kids

Cook with fish regularly

Generation 6: Zaffre

You’re a laid-back person, taking after your parent. You loved watching the waves as your parent fished in the early hours of the morning. You came to wish you could capture the experiences and memories, so took up painting.

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Traits: Art Lover, Creative, Child of the Islands

Skills: Painting, Photography, Cooking

Career: Painter - either branch

World: Tartosa

Rules:

Only 1 kid

Take pictures of your family often to put on the walls

You must max the imagination skill as a toddler

You must max the creativity skill as a child

Generation 7: Carob

Your parent and grandparent were both laid-back, but you take things a little more seriously and love studying and reading. You love to see what the world has to offer and collect treasures of all kinds. Everything from crystals and metals, to those little trinkets you find in time capsules.

Aspiration: The Curator

Traits: Overachiever, High Maintenance, Bookworm

Skills: Logic, Piano, Charisma

Career: Education - Professor branch

World: Copperdale

Rules:

Must only max the Gemology skill

Must complete at LEAST 2 of the collections

One completed collection must be Crystals or Metals

Only have a max of two children

Children must have A grades in school

Heir must go to University

Must max out career level

Must max out main skills

Must not die until after grandchild is a child (yes, you may minorly cheat to make this happen)

When an elder, move in with heir and their child

Generation 8: Ecru

Your parent made sure you had a good education and lots of books growing up. But you always took a liking to the musical side of things, playing music while you read and studied.

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Traits: Music Lover, Clumsy, Ambitious

Skills: Piano, Singing, Violin

Career: Entertainer - Musician branch

World: Britchester

Rules:

Must complete a University Degree course (you can choose)

Must play an instrument as a child

Must teach a child/teen to sing or play an instrument

Must max career level

Must max main skills

Generation 9: Amaranth

You loved all the trinkets that filled your grandparent’s house, and loved collecting your own shinies. So as an adult, you continue your collection and share it with the world.

Aspiration: Crystal Crafter

Traits: Clumsy, Romantic, Kleptomaniac

Skills: Gemology, Entrepreneur, Singing or Guitar

Career: Self-Employed (selling your jewelry and crystals)

World: Ciudad Enamorada

Rules:

Swipe at least one collectable from your grandparent

Must max Gemology skill

Must complete the crystal collection

Generation 10: Feldgrau

You often played with the metals that your parent collected, and that turned into you messing with gear and any mechanical thing you could get your grease-stained hands on.

Aspiration: Master Maker

Traits: Maker, Perfectionist, Snob

Skills: Handiness, Fabrication, Robotics, Juice Fizzing

Career: Freelancer - Crafter branch OR Engineer - Mechanical Engineer branch

World: Oasis Springs

Rules:

Juice Fizzing is not a mandatory max-out skill, but a preferable one

Have no more than 2 kids

Have at least 20k in the bank

Have a dog

Generation 11: Cattleya

Your parent instilled in you a deep-seated confidence in whatever you do. Unfortunately, you took it a little too far. You think you are the best-of-the-best, and set out to prove it.

Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress

Traits: Snob, Materialistic, Romantic

Skills: Romance, Acting, Charisma

Career: Actor

World: Del Sol Valley

Rules:

Start out in the crappy lot in Mirage Park, and then move up to any lot in The Pinnacles before becoming an elder

Can not have biological children - Must adopt a child (or more)

Must max out their fame

Must have a lot of followers on social media

Must have the Phone Fanatic fame quirk

Must also have the Paparazzi Darling or Refined Palate fame quirk

Generation 12: Byzantium

Your parent was a pompous asshole, who was obsessed with their accomplishments in their youth. As a child, you wondered if you could create a potion for everlasting youth. You moved to Glimmerbrook to find that out, meeting a trio of strange people who promised you an opportunity to become something more. Something… not human.

Aspiration: Purveyor of Potions

Traits: Romantically Reserved, Jealous, Nosy

Skills: Gemology, Herbalism, Gardening

Career: Gardener - Botanist branch

World: Glimmerbrook

Rules:

Must have a below-average relationship with your parent

Master Alchemy

Learn at least 3 spells in the Practical magic path

Learn 1 spell in the Untamed and Mischief magic paths

Have a max of 2 kids

Has a relationship with their teen grandchild (yes, you may minorly cheat to make this happen)

When an elder, move in with heir and their child

Generation 13: Phthalo

Growing up, your mom taught you the basics of alchemy, but you could never get into the complexity of it. You still loved the garden and the beautiful flowers growing there. Your favorite hobby was always to arrange your parent’s alchemy ingredients to make beautiful bouquets and table settings.

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Child of the Village, Lovebug

Skills: Gardening, Flower Arranging, Nectar Making

Career: Gardener - Floral Designer branch

World: Tomarang

Rules:

When their parent is an elder, they must move them in

Have at least 2 kids

Must have the first kid when they are a teen

Have a good relationship with your sibling

Generation 14: Xanadu

You were fascinated by the things your parent grew and their love for the nature around them. With your grandparent’s knowledge of magic, you set out to preserve nature the best you can.

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Traits: Maker, Perfectionist, Green Fiend

Skills: Fabrication, Programming, Logic

Career: Civil Designer - either branch

World: Evergreen Harbor

Rules:

Learn at least 3 alchemy potions

Reach level 5 of gardening

Learn the Herbio spell

Learn a spell from both the Mischief and Untamed magic paths

You can not use magic around other people

Generation 15: Gamboge

This all started with a quiet life, and now you find yourself drawn to the countryside. You love your heritage, and want to go back to your roots -living a quiet and peaceful life with your children and spouse.

Aspiration: Country Caretaker

Traits: Wise, Rancher, Family-oriented

Skills: Horse Riding, Gardening, Baking

Career: Self-Employed

World: Henford-on-Bagley

Rules:

Make money by selling jams and other home-made goods

Have at least 3 kids

Have a cow or llama

Must have at least 2 chickens

Must have a garden

Have a decent relationship with your kids

Must have 1 horse and max the riding skill before becoming and adult

[omgwhatchloe]

i am haunted by your sean's accurate recovery post how do you think it would have impacted how the gang treated him like how would they react to fun lovable sean macguire actually being so injured and weak to the point he couldn't keep that face up and needed help

ok so at first, when we have charles, javier and arthur, shock and denial. they would comment on his condition as they stared through the binoculars but not fully process yet what this means. when they cut him down and hes just laying there, it starts to dawn on them. something fucking awful has happened here. arthur would drag him up, only for him to crumble like dead weight with a few groans, then face the inevitable that that boy is not okay and they have a huge problem. cue them emptying their satchels for food and water asap. also theres the lingering, unspoken thought in their heads that he absolutely stinks but it would be super inappropriate to point it out.

back at camp, theyre so excited for seans return party. that he doesnt get. because when they see him, weak and slumped on the back of arthurs horse, bruised and bloody and stained, they begin to wonder…why did they expect something else? why did they expect a bouncy, happy, healthy and ready-to-party sean to return after weeks of torture? in what universe (the canon one lol) would that happen and make sense? theres no hugs and reunion. theres the yell of “i need some help over here.”

so seans in recovery, after finally being bathed (by who up to u), and hes not happy. theres no smiles. theres only pained groans and noises and people being ushered away from him, and the party is kind of a pity party. arthurs thinking about the fact he debated leaving him there, even journalling it, because he feels so guilty. lenny is wondering why the universe took jenny away from him and if theyre taking sean away from him too. karen feels lost, like she doesnt know how to help. everytime they hear miss grimshaw going to check on him, see lenny and hosea trying to help him walk on his burnt feet, see mr pearson cooking him separate meals so he can maybe attempt to eat as best he could, hear his panicked yelling as he wakes up from another nightmare, they are reminded about how low on their priority list he was during and after colter.

it feels like hes a different person, and they dont know if they’ll get old sean back. i mean, he needs help to walk, hes bruised all over from literally being beat and stamped on and needs help to sit up, he cannot eat what they eat, they hear him crying to lenny, and the majority of them do feel guilty.

however, there is one good night where he sits up and drinks with bill around the fire, who is so happy to see him up and able to drink with him that he isn’t snarky or rude. hes questioning and sympathetic..in his own way of course.

so yeah hope that little ramble does it for you!

[delphinidin4]

The problem with being perceptive and being an empath and having gotten an education in psychology is that now I know things about people that I cannot tell them because they can't hear it right now, and will maybe never be able to.

I COULD go up to that person in a toxic relationship and just be like, "Look. This person is a covert narcissist. This is what they're doing to you. This is what you need to get out. This is what your life could look like without them if you just put a really determined effort in for a couple of years." And I COULD do that. And I WANT to do that, because it BUGS ME that they're in such a bad place and don't have to be.

But if you tell somebody that and they can't hear it, all that's going to happen is that you're going to alienate them from you. They're going to see what you're doing as attacking their partner and they're going to defend their partner and cling even more closely to their partner and get rid of YOU instead.

There are 3 ways to deal with this:

Keep hinting and hinting and hoping they eventually begin to hear you (it does happen sometimes! It's how my friend made me realize my mom was emotionally abusive!)

2. Go ahead and tell them now and blow up your relationship with them

3. Realize that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make them drink, and take the pressure off of yourself to fix the universal problem of equine thirst. That is not your job in life. There will always be thirsty horses who are scared of the river. Other people's choices are not your responsibility, even if you DO know things they can't see yet. What you CAN do is focus on the only person whose choices you CAN control: You. Make choices that are right for YOU, and then secondarily help people when and if you can.

I've been trying to do option 1 for years now, and I've finally hit a place where I've realized that I need to switch to option 3. Cassandra has pointed out where the river is, and if the horse is ignoring it, Cassandra is going to go do something else. Because there's no point in telling people the truth if they'll never believe you anyway. Cassandra has given up on being an oracle. Cassandra is pursuing a career as a baker and taking up knitting and hiking. Cassandra has more goals in her life than the happiness of other people.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Cultivating Green

Aquarium snails like lettuce. They really, really like lettuce. Especially Romaine. Apparently it tends to have more calcium than other lettuces, which not only helps snails build good shells but is one reason it’s a preferred green to feed rehabilitating manatees. The fact that it floats, making it easy to grab leaves off the surface, doesn’t hurt a bit.

Greens are good for you. They are also, in some circumstances, absolutely deadly. A few things you might consider before you feed your characters a salad include plant breeding, agricultural tech, and water handling.

First, how advanced is your plant breeding? How cultivated are your varieties? Have they been bred to reduce toxicity?

Yes, toxicity. Plants evolved to be resistant to being eaten, just like animals. Only since they can’t run away, they rely on other strategies. Most plants that we can technically eat, for example grass, aren’t very nutritious. Grazing herbivores definitely chew grass, but they get most of their nutrients from digesting the microbes in their guts that can actually break down the cellulose. Like termites. Grazing herbivores also tend to browse on the tender tips of bushes and trees when they can, for more protein.

Though this has its drawbacks. Plants that are nutritious tend to be very, very toxic. Clover? Very nutritious, good grazing for animals and the occasional human - but humans at least have to eat it fresh, and it has compounds known to be abortifacient in large quantities. Milkweed? You eat very specific parts, and change out some water, to avoid the toxins that make birds seriously sick if they target a Monarch butterfly. Apple leaves and branches? Go ahead and cut fresh bits for your horse or rabbit, but take the bits away before they can wilt because cyanide. Potatoes and tomatoes? Nightshades, they can really mess you up. Only the fruit of the tomato is edible; and if you find a wild potato, or even just an unknown cross - I’m begging you, do not eat the tubers unless someone’s able to test them in a lab first. Farmers in the Andes worked for thousands of years to get our table varieties, and every seed from a cross is still a roll of the dice. Not to mention some actively if slightly-less-toxic potatoes are still grown because they’re tough enough to survive very bad conditions.

(You eat them after they’ve been freeze-dried, and you eat them with clay. Do not skip the clay. It absorbs the toxins.)

There are a very few plants that are both nutritious and nontoxic, but they’re rare. Wild cabbage, ancestor to our modern brassicas like broccoli, radish, cabbages, etc., naturally grows on limestone cliffs with basic soils high in salt and lime, where very few other things like the environment. Though extreme environments cannot be counted on to produce edible plants. Look at some of the nasty compounds that are in cactus pulp. Preferably before you try to drink it.

Second, how advanced is the local agricultural tech? What are they using for fertilizer? Organic fertilizer is often either marl (not found everywhere) or manure. Hopefully well-aged manure; hopefully not human manure. But any kind carries the risk of disease and parasites. There are ways to cut those risks; do the farmers know how?

Third, how advanced is the tech for obtaining clean water, and purifying water that might not be clean? Even the best, cleanest field might get targeted by passing birds; washing your greens before you eat them is good sense. Unless the water’s not reliable. In which case all your veggies might be stir-fry, not salad.

It’s possible all of this is just unimportant background in your story. But if your characters are in a foraging or other survival situation... these are bits to consider. They may be safest just hunting!

[javiersprincess]

tags: written for @ravengards-rogue / gn!reader/ abigail and john are coparenting jack and are not together / drinking and smoking / set in ch.4 after jack’s return. let me know if i missed something

Jack has returned and the gang is in full swing. The fire is golden than red, and the singing is drowned by the natural sounds of the buoy. You rest on the outskirts of the house letting the taste of your cigarette rest on your teeth as you cough with each exhale.

“Not the best smoker, are you?” John’s voice rings out, cutting through the croaking of frogs. It makes you turn, eyes watering and you wincing when the smoke goes down the wrong pipe. John laughs, a raspy thing but it makes your burn all the same. You suck your teeth and curse under your breath before turning away from him.

“Not one of my talents, I am afraid.” You call back, not looking at him lest he lulls you into his spell unknowingly with his scarred features. The damp ground gives away his movements and he is right next to you, his arm to your shoulder and his head looking down at you. You feel the two pin points of his eyes focused on your face in the cool moonlight.

“What are you doing out here?” John asks you with his voice soft, low and deep - the one he uses when it’s just you and him. The one that lulls you and makes your heart race despite you never wanting to admit it, especially yourself.

“I could ask you the same thing - you should be with your son and Abigail. Not here with me.” You can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice even if you wanted to. Some part of you feels embarrassed, it’s not like you to be so unveiled. Especially when it comes to John, who looks at you with some sort of wildness that cannot be contained in the walls of civil society and fatherhood. John’s hand, bigger and scarred, comes into your view, you let it pluck the cigarette from your hand with the grace he only has to reload his pistols ; you watch as he takes a long drag and blows it away from your face.

“Look at me.” He says and you obey with unusual, limp submissiveness and you don’t raise your eyes to see the small smug smirk on John’s face at your pout.

“I should be…but every time I’m with them I think of you anyways.”

“Shut up - that ain’t funny.” You hiss at him, pout pulling back to show your teeth as you go to take your cigarette back. John is quick and has always been more agile than you - it’s how he gets his arm to wind around your shoulders and can tug you back to the direction of the golden light. His hand is warm, burning through the surprisingly cold air this night and you turn golden in the camp’s firelight. Some people call your name as you pass by them cheering, drunk and stupid.

“The boy is my son, you know that but Abigail ain’t my woman. Me and her ain’t gonna beat a dead horse especially when I got you. So don’t go running off like that again, you stay with me the rest of the night, you hear?” He tells you his voice pressed to your ears and you feel your indignation fade away with each step you take with him. A part of you hates how easily John can disarm your defenses but he would not be as feared as he is if he could not do so. It makes you nod almost obediently and it makes him chuckle in your ear - even bold enough to press a kiss to your cheek that makes a few members at camp hoot and holler over Javier’s singing. He sits you down next to him, you can hear Jack playing and you even smile as he waves at you excitedly. It brings a smile to your face as you wave back until Abigail comes into your view and graces you with a smile and a wave of her own - one that reassures you entirely. You feel a nudge at your shoulder and turn to see John looking at you softly.

“There's that pretty smile I missed.” You laugh, loudly like the rest of them and roll your eyes.

“Oh shut it Marston.” The fondness coats your tongue like syrup and the embers dance in John’s eyes, it’s easy to see them as stars instead.

“Only if you make me, my darling.”

[blubberquark]

2023 Game Of The Year: Storyteller (plus DLC)

I played Storyteller after the DLC came out, and Storyteller (with the DLC) became my game of the year.

Unfortunately, I can't really explain why without spoiling some puzzles. I will not try not to spoil any solutions in the screenshots (except one), but I will have to spoil the game mechanics.

What is Storyteller

Storyteller is a game where you arrange comic book panels and characters to tell a story based on a prompt. It doesn't require any dexterity, only deduction. You drag and drop comic book panels into slots, drag and drop character into panels to arrange them, or drag populated panels and characters around.

The challenge is to understand how the characters and panels work, what the prompt wants you to do, and how to do that. Early on, the game is mostly about figuring out the rules governing the characters and panels. It slowly shifts towards more "thinky" problems, where the challenge lies not in understanding how the game works, or what the goal is, but how to fit the required story beats into a limited number of panels.

Depending on the outcome of a panel, you may see little icons, speech bubbles, or thought bubbles that describe whether an action failed or succeeded, and how the characters think or feel about that. Sometimes the outcome of a panel is communicated in a much more direct way, and acted out by the characters.

Screenshot from second chapter puzzle "A Heartbreak is Healed"

Screenshot from first chapter puzzle "Heartbreak with a Happy Ending": At this point you are still learning the game mechanics like placing panels and characters

Screenshot from "Everyone Rejects Edgar": More thinky puzzle than recreation of a storytelling cliché, and an opportunity to apply what you know. The characters except for Edgar are interchangeable. You can have them fall in love with any other, or reject Edgar in any order.

Screenshot from later puzzle "Everyone Sits on the Throne": A thinky puzzle in the same vein as "Everyone Rejects Edgar". This time, there are important differences between the initial states of characters. You cannot make them sit on the throne in any order.

The panels can be thought of as story beats, sometimes as scenes/places, as in "A and B meet in the kitchen", and sometimes as actions/verbs, as in "A and B kiss". They aren't verbs in the sense that you can just put Alice and Bob in the kissing panel and they always kiss. They only kiss if they love each other, or at least if they don't hate each other. All you can do with the characters as the player is to put them in situations. You can drag the "horse" character into the "watering hole" panel, but you can't make it drink. I mean, probably you could, you might, but would be the puzzle.

Screenshot from "Hatey Murders Father and Marries Mother": It's obviously an Oedipus reference. You see that Hatey doesn't want to murder his father or marry his mother in this constellation.

The game keeps track of the relationships between characters, beliefs of characters, and states of objects. That means (I made this example up in order to not spoil any puzzles) if Alice has been in the kitchen with the cookies, Alice believes there are cookies in the kitchen. If the Cookie Monster has been in the kitchen, there are no more cookies in the kitchen. Now Alice could tell Bob that there are cookies in the kitchen, and Bob could ge hungry and blame Alice for lying, or he could catch the Cookie Monster eating the last cookie. The possibilities for drama are there.

Characters have different initial states and motivations. For instance, the King and the Queen are initially married, and they both have the crown.

Screenshot from "Three Heads Roll": Only the Baron wants to kidnap the king.

If you're into that kind of thing, you can imagine Storyteller as a STRIPS-like planning system with a known or at least discoverable initial state, multiple goals (not just one goal state), panels as actions that take characters as parameters, and a lot of state that can be observed and deduced, but not directly manipulated.

If you're not, you can just play Storyteller as a game about telling stories based on a prompt.

Progression

After you start a new save file, the whole game is open to you. Puzzles or stories are grouped into chapters of four of five stories. Each chapter has a common theme, and a set of common characters and panels. Later chapters mix it up a bit, and introduce characters into different environments or combine characters from multiple stories or mythologies, whereas earlier chapters mostly introduce panels and characters so you can learn how they operate.

Like I said, the whole game is open to you from the start, so you are free to skip a puzzle if you are stuck, to revisit an older chapter, or to skip to the last chapter. It doesn't really matter, because you have to solve every puzzle in the game in order to get to the end.

The first chapter teaches the mechanics of dragging and dropping panels, dragging and dropping characters into panels, and dragging populated panels around to swap them. Then the next couple of chapters introduce different characters and settings. Usually the first story of a chapter only has a few new characters and panels with a rather obvious prompt, the second introduces more content and a slight variation, and the third and fourth have a slight twist.

The later chapters are more focused on actual puzzles.

Some puzzles have multiple solutions, and after solving it one way, you see two additional prompts. For example, the princess could kiss the frog and then the frog turns into a prince, or the princess could kiss the frog but the frog turns into another princess.

I skipped many of those variations on my first playthrough, and this way I blazed through about 40 puzzles without ever stopping and thinking or feeling overly challenged. I learned how most of the characters and panels work, and then I went back to solve all the variant prompts. Somebody I know played every level in order and solved the variant prompts right away. That makes for a more thinky experience earlier on. Either way works, and both are clearly intentionally permitted by the game design.

In the final chapters, Storyteller actually becomes thinky and difficult. This seems like a flaw in pacing, but it works out to the first 70% of the puzzles taking 30% of the time playing it, and the last 30% taking 70% of the time. Instead of treating Storyteller like a storytelling game, you must finally treat it like a puzzle game.

When you beat the base game, the DLC content is added. Levels in the previous chapters get an additional variant prompt, and a new character is introduced. This character acts completely different from all the previous characters, so you have to at first understand how it interacts with the panels from the base game. The variant prompts are harder than anything in the base game. For puzzle game aficionados, this is where it gets challenging for the first time. Here's a "metagaming" tip: None of the DLC variant prompts is solvable with the characters from the base game. Therefore your solution must incorporate the DLC, and it would be impossible to reproduce with base game content.

Screenshot from "Eve Dies Heartbroken Devil makes everyone miserable": You have to experiemnt to figure out how the devil interacts with the panels and characters.

Why It Works So Well

Storyteller is a bit on the easy side. So why does it work so well?

If you are an expert at puzzle games such as The Golem or Stephen's Sausage Roll, then maybe it won't work for you. But if you are looking for a puzzle game that is different, if you liked Splice or Cogs, then Storyteller could be the game for you. It's not a puzzle platformer, not a first person puzzle adventure like Obduction or Sensorium or Quern.

Storyteller is not a storytelling game in the vein of Facade, but it uses themes and literary allusion to keep you interested early on. The music sometimes feels more like a fun Easter egg, but never annoying.

Early prompts in the vein of "boy meets girl" soon turn into more complicated prompts, requiring some minimal lateral thinking to figure out what you need to do. Some of the prompts are literary or mythological allusions and references. That keeps levels interesting and varied even when the actual puzzle part is simple.

Screenshot from "Butler Gets Fired" and "Friedrich Takes Revenge": The puzzle part is quite easy, and there is little lateral thinking involved. The fun is mostly in re-enacting pop culture tropes.

Screenshot from the level selection: Every puzzle in every chapter is open from the start, but it's probably best to do them in order.

Many bad puzzle games get this wrong. You can never really solve a puzzle, because there is only one thing to do. You pick up a key, you open a lock, you see a button, you press it to open a door, you just do the next thing you can do over and over. Instead of puzzling, you just push every button and see what changes to know where to go next. It's fine if the puzzle mechanics are just an excuse to get the player to traverse a temple/dungeon back and forth, if you see the lock and the key and the puzzle mechanics are just there for flavour and motivation. It's no okay if your game is not an action adventure or a puzzle platformer, but an actual puzzle game.

Monument Valley is such a game that doesn't have any actual puzzles in it, you just walk from one place to the next. The game is carried by the interesting visuals and the novelty of the perspective mechanic. (If you are looking for something like Monument Valley but challenging, I could perhaps recommend Naya's Quest or Selene's Labyrinth.)

Early on, Storyteller has this flow of simple and easy puzzles (like Monument Valley), one solved after the other, and it gradually gets more difficult. The references to books and storytelling clichés aren't particularly deep or laugh-out-loud funny, but they make for the occasional chuckle. Sometimes part of the solution process is to realise that "boy meets girl" was last time, and this time you have to use "girl meets girl" to make the story fit the prompt with the characters you have at your disposal.

The variant prompts manage to side-step a problem I that stood out to me on my playthrough of Baba is You, and a problem I encountered designing my own puzzles. Sometimes there are two levels in a row, where one level has an "unintended" solution, and the next has the "intended" solution removed, so you have to find the second solution for the first level. If you manage to find the "unintended" solution the first time, the next level will be very confusing. Just this solution again? Wait, what was the other solution? Did the last level try to teach me something I missed? Should I go back again to find the other solution?

It was confusing to me anyway, a couple of times when I played Baba is You. The same idea is implemented in Storyteller in a much better way. Instead of having a modified copy of the same level right afterwards, Storyteller categorises solutions into "basic solution", "variant A" and "variant B". Even if you manage to find one variant with your first solution attempt, you immediately see both variant prompts, and there is always one more variant to try next. You never have to construct the same solution twice in a row. Sadly this elegant system cannot be applied to Baba is You.

Screenshot from "Tiny gets a kiss": Sorry for spoiling the solution. Even if you manage to have the prince save Tiny the first time around, you would still have to find a solution where Snowy is ungrateful, and Tiny gets a kiss.

Pre-History

I can't really talk about Storyteller without explaining why I was drawn to this game in the first place. I first heard about it in 2008, when it won the IGF. Back then it was more of a story sandbox in the vein of "Tale-Spin". That's the old story generation AI that produced the sentence "gravity drowned", if that means anything to you.

Screenshot: Storyteller prototype with old pixel art

About a hundred flash portals mirrored the initial Storyteller Flash prototype that won the IGF. The original is still here on Kongregate.

Back then, I wondered how a sand box such as storyteller could be turned into an actual game. It was a prototype and some mechanics, but not really a game. It looks like the developer wondered, too.

In the mean time, FRAMED had came out. Now FRAMED looks clearly inspired by Storyteller, because it also has a mechanic where you rearrange panels, but it's nothing like it. FRAMED is more like the Limbo to Storyteller's Braid. Ironically, FRAMED is "a game that tells you a story". Storyteller is an actual puzzle game.

It has been in development longer than Duke Nukem Forever, but even after all these years, Storyteller doesn't feel dated or superfluous. They finally found a winning formula.

Storyteller was developed by Daniel Benmergui and published by Annapurna Interactive. Get it on Steam here, or if you have a Netflix subscription and an iOS or Android device, the price of the mobile app is included in your monthly Netflix fee. Storyteller is also available for the Nintendo Switch. I would recommend playing it on a PC or tablet.

[sapphire-writes]

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!OC

previous chapter ~ next chapter

Read more on AO3

fic summary: Elyse Baratheon is Princess Helaena’s childhood companion and closest friend. Jacaerys Velaryon has loved her since childhood. Aemond Targaryen loathes the idea of love. A Baratheon in the capital changes the Dance of Dragons, and the realm holds its breath.

chapter summary: Elyse flees to Oldtown. Lovers are reunited.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ mentions of death, light smut, language

Ch. 18: Reunion

Elyse’s thighs ached from the journey; Her mouth was dry, fingers cracking from holding the leather reigns of her horse.

“A little longer, my lady!”

Her companion Gareth had said that ages ago before her head became too heavy for her neck to hold upright. Before the beautiful blue river appeared.

The Honeywine. 

They had been following it for ages. It was surely endless. Churning and rippling as though filled with thousands of sapphires catching the light. Elyse had never seen Oldtown, she did not know what to expect. The Reach was foreign ground. 

Highgarden. Her sister. All in the past now. Oldtown was her future. Daeron.

Aemond. 

Elyse opened her eyes, lifting her head from its rest against her horse’s mane. She had to make it. She needed to make it to him. 

The journey feels endless, even when Elyse falls from her horse, her body slamming against the cool earth. She digs her hands into the soft green grass. 

“My lady!” her companion calls, rushing to her aid. 

Get up, Elyse says to herself. You cannot give up now. Not now. 

The trampling of hooves can be heard when her companion reaches her. Only a moment of the roaring sounds of hooves, dust flying around them obscuring their vision. The yelling of soldiers, the neighing of horses. 

Elyse coughs through the dust, shielding her face with her arms. 

“Stop!” a voice calls, and the soldiers move, clearing a path.

Someone dismounts their horse, the sound of rattling chainmail echoing in Elyse’s ears. Gareth is trembling beside her, hands held above his head. Elyse lifts her head, looking up at the men surrounding them, noticing the emblem of a three-headed dragon on their flags. The green flags.

A boy with silver hair pushed forward, clad in armor. His eyes were violet, warm like Helaena’s. His nose was that of Alicent’s and his chin bore an awful resemblance to that of Aegon. A familiar face, Elyse had not seen in many moons.

Elyse rises from the ground on shaky legs. Gareth pulls at her skirts, begging her to remain kneeling in fear of what the soldiers want.

“Daeron,” she said, collapsing into his arms.

“Maester!” Daeron called, scooping Elyse up into his arms, “my brother’s wife, she requires assistance!”

Daeron looked down at Elyse, holding her tightly.

“Where is Aemond?” Elyse murmurs. 

“He shall be here soon, sweet sister,” Daeron promised.

Elyse slept for a long time. The journey, the tragedy of Highgarden was all too much. When she wakes, the sun is warming her face. 

Daeron is there when she wakes, seated at the foot of her bed. He holds water out to her. 

“Drink, sister,” he encourages, and she takes the glass.

Elyse greedily gulps down the liquid.

“I feel I play the part of the fool,” she says once her thirst is quenched, “it is as though I have been asleep a long time.”

Daeron chuckles.

“Not many fools threaten handmaids,” Daeron comments.

“How did you know about that?” Elyse questions.

“Lord Maceon sent word from Highgarden,” he tells her, “soon after your departure.”

“Is he terribly angry with Floris?”

“I do not believe so,” Daeron assures her, “I do not think he blamed her.”

“She helped me,” Elyse admits, “but it was my doing. I wanted to leave.”

“Of course you did,” Daeron says, patting her leg, “Aemond was furious.”

A shiver rolls through Elyse. 

“Where is he?” she asks once more.

“He shall be here soon, I sent a raven as soon as we found you,” Daeron tells her, “he nearly destroyed half the realm.”

“What has happened?” Elyse asked, “I know nothing of the war-”

“It is hardly a war anymore,” Daeron assures, “the North is being pushed back, the Riverlands destroyed…” Daeron pauses, “Rhaenyra is dead.”

His lip quivers when he says it. Elyse wonders what it must feel like to lose a sister. It is something she has wondered about before, something that has plagued her darkest nightmares. She hopes the Stranger is merciful and does not let her experience that pain for many years.

“Daeron…” Elyse begins, almost at a loss for words.

She takes his hand in hers. Daeron smiles tightly, lavender eyes watery. 

“It is my understanding the Jacearys intend to flee to Winterfell, along with Prince Lucerys,” Daeron continues, “Rhaena remains in the Vale, while Baela resides on Driftmark.”

“What shall become of them?” Elyse wonders aloud.

“Aegon needs to make peace,” Daeron concludes, “Hold a council of some kind. Bring peace to the realm.”

“That is wise,” Elyse says nodding, “surely your mother shall advise such peace.”

Daeron nods, though his gaze looks through Elyse. Though he has grown, he still looks so young. So young to see so much death, and violence. 

“Surely,” Daeron says, sniffling.

Elyse takes his hands in hers, holding them tightly. As they sit, the room begins to tremble, the jug of water shaking so violently on the side table, Elyse is sure it shall smash onto the floor. The very foundations of Oldtown seem to be shivering, as though it is a giant waking from a long sleep. 

Until the call of dragonsong is heard. 

Barely a song, a roar. A growl so ferocious it can only belong to a queen of dragons.

Vhagar’s call sends every hair on Elyse’s body standing at attention.

Daeron looks toward the ceiling and Elyse does the same.

“Let me call for some maids,” he begins, “to help you dress-”

But Elyse is already up, clad only in a silk nightgown, her feet bare. She doesn’t even know where she is going as she opens the door, running down the corridors. Just out, just toward the sun, just toward him.

She finds the outside rather quickly, the castle is not as large as Highgarden, not the Red Keep. Elyse sees Vhagar in the distance, forced to land a terribly far distance from the castle. Elyse growls in frustration. The distance between her and Aemond is still too far. She continues, feet freezing, teeth chattering, running through the grass. 

She doesn’t make it all the way to Vhagar before she spots him. Tears welled in her eyes because it's him, it’s him. 

Silver-haired, dressed in his riding leathers, eyepatch forgotten. His sapphire is on full display, sparkling in the afternoon sun.

“Aemond,” she breathed. 

The prince stood watching her, eye wide before closing the distance between them and embracing her. 

“Oh my darling,” he murmured, face pressed into her hair, “oh my sweet girl.”

Elyse wrapped her arms tightly around him, tears soaking the fabric of his shirt. 

“I thought I would never see you again.” 

Elyse clings to him as he ushers her back to the castle, into her room, and in front of the fire, wrapping her in furs as her lips have begun to turn blue. The furs are short-lived as she begins to kiss him. There are other ways to warm up. 

There’s no time, as they shed the clothes that separate them fully. Never has Elyse felt more desperate, more greedy as she tears through the fabric of his shirt, sending buttons scattering to different corners of the room.

His mouth is hot and eager against her skin, followed by his hands leaving trails of fire all over her bare skin. Her shift is torn and the edge of the bed bends her legs at the knee, Aemond tumbling on top of her. 

A peel of laughter escapes her, swallowed by Aemond’s mouth. His lips form a smile against her as he holds her close, kissing her, hands squeezing so hard they’re bound to leave bruises. Elyse cannot find a thought in her head that cares. 

Bruise me, she thinks, leave reminders of your touch again and again and again. Never leave me again. 

Tears stream freely down her cheeks, especially when she feels his cock split her in two, finally fully connecting them. She’s crying and laughing all at once, with soft moans of pleasure interrupting the joyous noises as Aemond thrusts deep inside of her. 

He is here. He is alive. 

Another laugh, another rake of her nails down his back.

Aemond is alive. 

Her fingers stroke his face, down the sharp angles of his jaw, the ridges of his scar and he lifts her thigh to allow deeper access. 

“Never leave me again,” Elyse begs, her voice having an edge of hysteria in it.

“I shan’t,” Aemond promises, “they shall have to kill me first.”

Elyse is alone when she wakes and her body cannot shake the memory of being captured. Her heart speeds up, her stomach lurching as though she may be sick. She leaps from bed, pressing a hand over her chest, trying to remind herself where she is.

I am in Oldtown, she says to herself, breathing deeply. I am in Oldtown with Aemond and we are alright. 

The chambers are quiet, aside from the sounds outside. Elsye dons a dressing robe, making her way outside, and down the stairs.

People are bustling, there is commotion everywhere. She spots Daeron’s silver head. 

“Daeron!” she calls, rushing toward him.

He smiles brightly at her, clasping her arm. 

“We are going home, back to King’s Landing,” he begins, “Aegon has declared the war is over.”

NOTE: I've been neglecting my first baby! Hope this reunion makes up for it ily all!

ASOFAF taglist: @minttea07@tssf-imagines, @queenofshinigamis, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @hangmanscoming, @watercolorskyy, @btsarmy2014

[doodlemancy]

Hey there I just have a question about the Patreon stuff - I 100% agree with everything you said, I'm not too knowledgeable about some of the things Patreon has done. I know they want to get rid of first of the month and per creation billing, but WHY? Why do they hate it so much and want to get rid of it so badly??

hmmmm. i can't say i know for sure, but i can make some guesses. a lot of it seems like an unwillingness to problem-solve, honestly. there have been various excuses that i can remember-- one is that processing everything at the beginning of the month leads to all the Payment Processing Problems happening at once which, fair, understandable. hire more people, sorry patreon, you already made your bed on this and now you get to lie in it for the sake of the people that depend on it. another excuse they made during the fiasco in 2021 is that a lot of people sign up in the middle or toward the end of the month and think they've been "double charged" when the 1st of the next month rolls around, and they get charged again less than a month after they signed up. it apparently leads to a lot of customer service tickets. instead of implementing ANY features that would help patrons understand this better at signup, or allow patrons to delay payment until the 1st of the next month, they wanted to do away with 1st-of-the-month billing entirely. and like yes. this is a problem. chargebacks are bad. having to deal with a lot of help tickets at the same time every month is bad. but having worked customer service long enough: clarify your language and again, hire more people, sorry! bed made! lie in it!

with the apple thing... i kind of wonder if that's been an influence in the past and for how long. it feels like they are really insistent on changing their service's behavior to be more predictable to the average Netflix/Doordash/etc. subscriber or whatever. the rolling bill structure is the default for most stuff, and it does make sense to want to be predictable... but in general they really seem to think very little of the intelligence of patrons. which is an understandable consequence of dealing with any kind of customer service-- just statistically speaking you will encounter a lot of horses who cannot be made to drink or even led to any kind of water and it will make you think humanity is doomed. but it's weird that they're willing to trade out entire portions of their userbase for that predictability. i think some of this is also a venture-capital-driven desperate desire for wider appeal, which is the fall of every tech company at some point, i guess. the insistence that the apps no one likes are Extremely Important is what bolsters my belief that this is a misguided growth-chasing thing. like everyone else, they probably are trying to make line go up, and there's no room to be pleased with a sustainable niche in that equation.

i don't know if there are other mysterious under-the-hood reasons, like if it's gonna be better for them re: payment processing fees or something or if their processors or investors are giving them shit about it for some reason or another. it's likely there's something else they are, as usual, not being transparent about.

so yeah. it's not that i think Patreon would be easy to run. it's not that i don't see that there are some legit challenges here. but i do think they are strangely willing to give up and go straight to the most destructive solution rather than try to figure out how to make the thing work. i don't really know exactly what's going on more than anyone else does, i'm just looking for patterns.

also: i know you don't, anon, but if anyone's thinking i've been too harsh or that i'm too suspicious of patreon up-front here and am Probably Just Unpleasable... they do have a history of deceptive shit. it's been their thing for a looooong time to take secret polls only of select groups of users so they can say that their bad decisions are based on "user feedback". i actually got an email invite back in 2021 for a secret behind-the-scenes call that i'm sure they were just gonna use to try to justify some more shit. i declined and told them they should have learned by now to ask the whole community for input on big decisions, and i got a predictably dodgy answer. sigh. i wish they really cared about us.

[dluginski]

Animals in Speech (idioms, sayings and proverbs with animals)

1. to have a whale of a time - to enjoy oneself

Despite of his dislike towards these games, he seems to be having a whale of a time.

2. to be as quiet as a mouse - to be very quiet (quite straightforward, isn't it)

I think I haven't heard his voice yet. He was as quiet as a mouse during the party.

3. to dog/hound sth or sb, to be dogged by sth - follow someone in a persistent manner, something negative that keeps coming back, can’t get it to go away like a dog that always returns

I’m dogged by these awful recurring thoughts of my mother’s death.

4. dogged (doggedly, doggedness) - very determined to continue doing something

She's a dogged advocate of reforming the prison system in this country.

5. to go to the dogs - to get into an unfavourable situation, to diminish in quality

Germany's economy appears to be going to the dogs.

6. to be as sick as a dog - extremely ill

The aftermath of swimming in the cold-ass lake in winter was painful. The children were as sick as a dog for the following 2 weeks.

7. to badger someone - to pester someone, to cause havoc

He was badgering her the whole night.

8. the lion's share - the majority or the biggest part of something

I didn't do a lot of work for our group assignment. Maeva's done the lion's share of the work.

9. (straight) from the horse's mouth - to hear something from the person who has direct, first-hand knowledge of it

Actually, this gossip is factually true. I know it because I learned it straight from the horse's mouth. I spoke to Michael himself.

10. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink - You can streamline something for someone to ease the difficulty of it but you cannot force them to do it.

11. to rat on someone, to be a rat - to share information / secrets with somebody that were not meant to be shared, it especially relates to something that could be incriminating or illegal

He ratted on us, we may face a prison sentence now.

12. to wolf down - to eat it back very quickly, like a wolf would eat a very great chunk of sheep (’cause if he doesn’t do it very quickly, the other wolfs would come about and eat it before him)

He wolfed down the dinner my mum made for us as if there was no tomorrow.

13. to pig out (on something) - to eat a lot, you’re eating so much that you’re probably finish up by being sick

And there she is again, pigging out on the carrot cake.

14. to take the bull by the horns - to take control of the situation, to deal with a situation directly

15. the elephant in the room - the thing that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about

16. chicken out - you stop or give up doing something out of fear

Initially, he agreed to go parachute-jumping with us but he chickened out at the very last moment.

17. hold your horses - to tell someone to wait or slow down

Wow, hold your horses. Let's finish the first assignment first and then we'll go on with the second one

18. have a bee in your bonnet - to be obsessed with an idea that keeps on occupying your mind

He's got a bee in his bonnet about moving to Norway.

19. to kill two birds with one stone - to settle two problems, issues in one go, by doing one action

20. to be a fly on the wall - to be unnoticed while listening in on a conversation

They're talking about the upcoming championship. I wish I could be a fly on the wall so that I could find out what artists will be in the singers line-up.

21. The bee's knees or the cat's pyjamas - something is of the best quality, or you could call someone the bee's knees

My mum's tiramisu is the bee's knees. You've got to try it when you come over.

22. to make a beeline (for) - to move towards something quickly and with purpose

Once I saw the group of girls disperse, I made a beeline for my crush when she was on her own.

23. Until the cows come home - for a long time, possibly never-ending time, usually when you're talking about something that you enjoy doing

I could sit here on the sofa and read this novel until the cows come home but someone has to unload the dishwasher.

24. crocodile tears -not real tears, fake tears in order to gain something

I see right through her. They're crocodile tears. I know she doesn't actually care.

25. a different / whole other kettle of fish - something is entirely different, very different from the related thing your talking about

Simultaneous interpreting is a whole other kettle of fish compared to written translation.

26. to have bigger fish to fry - you have more important or better things to do

Don't work yourself up over this matter. You've got bigger fish to fry, you've got to land that new job at FAANG.

27. a sitting duck - easy target, something or someone which is vulnerable to attack

If we leave the car unattended with its doors open, it'd be a sitting duck.

28. a wild goose chase - a pointless task, especially one that involves travel

I was tasked with buying a pumpkin but the thing is, it's spring and they're no pumpkins sold during springtime. It was a wild goose chase.

29. to go the whole hog - to commit to something and take it as far as possible

We as a family don't really celebrate Halloween so we don't put out any decorations but our neighbours go the whole hog every year

30. Ants in your pants - you are restless and moving around a lot, usually because you are nervous or excited

Thomas's got ants in his pants today. I think he's nervous about his job interview.

31. Dog eat dog - a very toxic and competitive environment

I left my previous job post because it was dog eat dog in there. Everyone one tried to make themselves look good by diminishing others.

32. in the doghouse - to be in trouble or disgrace

I forgot our relationship anniversary so I'm in the doghouse. She'll be angry with me for at least a week now.

33. to let sleeping dogs lie - leave a situation alone, to not interfere so you don’t cause trouble

Don't you think it'd be better to let the sleeping dogs lie? I get that she's mad now but you just should let her cool off now. Otherwise you'll make it even worse that it already is.

34. to let the cat out of the bag - to reveal a secret

I think it's time to let the cat out of the bag. We're officially a couple.

35. in two shakes of a lamb's tail - really quickly, in a short amount of time

I need to unload the dishwasher. I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

36. a dark horse - being surprisingly good at something

Wow, Dawid. You're really a dark horse. I had no idea you're such a good dancer!

37. Cat got your tongue? - this is a question you might ask somebody who is being unusually quiet

38. to smell a rat - to smell a rat means to be suspicious of a lie

Initially, he said that he would join us but then, out of blue, he messaged me saying something came up and he won'l be able to take part in our event. I smell a rat.

39. a wolf in sheep's clothing - to appear harmless but have sinister intentions

At first glance, she appeared to be a gentle and trustworthy person but it turns out she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, hijacking all our projects and revealing our team's secrets to other firms.

40. a fish out of water - to feel uncomfortable or out of place in a particular situation

As a vegan, I feel like a fish out of water at my Polish family's gathering as they only eat meat-based dishes and don't even try to accommodate to my different diet choices.

41. a frog in your throat - to have difficulty speaking because your throat is dry or hoarse

We had to find a new broadcaster for today's show as our current one's got a frog in his throat

42. a dear in the headlights - to be frozen with fear or shock in a difficult or unexpected situation

When he was corned by all these girls, he was like a dear in the headlights, not knowing how to act or what to say.

43. to make a mountain out of a molehill - to exaggerate or make a big deal out of something that is trivial

It's just a minor caveat, we'll be able to power through this. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill.

44. a bull in the china shop - being clumsy or careless in delicate situations that require more levelheadedness

He acted like a bull in the china shop at our monthly recap gathering, causing unnecessary tensions amongst our investors.

45. as free as a bird - carefree and unrestricted

After experiencing Erasmus exchange programme, he felt as free as a bird and planned on travelling abroad on a more regular basis.

46. to clam up - to become quiet suddenly

She clammed up just as I asked her about her family.

47. a nest egg - money saved for the future

We've got a nest egg that we might have to use in case of us getting the sack.

48. monkey see, monkey do - silly/unintelligent people tend to copy each other's actions

All he does is waiting for an opportunity to mimic my actions. I invested in Tesla stocks yesterday and now he's boasting about doing the same thing to our colleagues. Monkey see, monkey do.

49. kitty cornet - diagonal direction

The campus is kitty corner to the train station.

50. (the) birds and the bees - sex education

Jamie learned about the birds and the bees today at school.

51. a cat nap - a short nap

I'm going to have a short nap while you're watching the TV.

52. dog days - very hot days

I try to hide from the sunlight during the dog days of July.

53. have a cow - get extremely upset

My mum had a cow when she came back home and saw that we didn't do the chores yet.

54. Road hog - careless and crazy driver

She's a serial road hog. She's received so many speed tickets.

55. top dog - the most important person in a group or company

She's a top dog in her firm. Everyone looks up to her and she's seen as a leader by many.

56. (the) straw that broke the camel's back / the last straw - a minuscule issue being the final reason why a business, company or person fails

Her small business wasn't doing all that good anyway but when she made a mistake filing her taxes, it is was the straw that broke the camel's back.

57. look what the cat dragged in - we say this when someone new enters a room and looks a bit disheveled, squalid and dirty; or just when someone new comes in

Here he is, look what the cat dragged in.

58. flogging a dead horse - to constantly complain about something that cannot be changed or bring up old stuff from the past

Could you stop bringing it up? You're flogging a dead horse at this point!

59. eager beaver - when someone is enthusiastic about a task and does more than it is expected from him

Wow, you finished up on all the extracurricular reading and assignments? You're such an eager beaver!

60. cast pearls before swine - to gift someone something useless that the person in question won't need for example: giving bunch of jewellery to a homeless person who would much rather be gifted a warm meal than a bunch of gem stones

Why would you gift him this type of present? You know he's a minimalist - you're casting pearls before swine!

61. cash cow - something that is a dependable source of income, you can always count on him when it comes to money

He brought in so much money thanks to his persuasion skills. He was the company's cash cow.

62. cold turkey - stop doing something suddenly without preparation

I stopped hitting the bottle cold turkey last week.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Assyrians Invade Judah

1 During Hezekiah’s fourteenth year as king, Sennacherib king of Assyria attacked all the strong, walled cities of Judah and captured them. 2 The king of Assyria sent out his field commander with a large army from Lachish to King Hezekiah in Jerusalem. When the commander came near the waterway from the upper pool on the road where people do their laundry, he stopped. 3 Eliakim, Shebna, and Joah went out to meet him. Eliakim son of Hilkiah was the palace manager, Shebna was the royal secretary, and Joah son of Asaph was the recorder.

4 The field commander said to them, “Tell Hezekiah this:

“‘The great king, the king of Assyria, says: What can you trust in now? 5 You say you have battle plans and power for war, but your words mean nothing. Whom are you trusting for help so that you turn against me? 6 Look, you are depending on Egypt to help you, but Egypt is like a splintered walking stick. If you lean on it for help, it will stab your hand and hurt you. The king of Egypt will hurt all those who depend on him. 7 You might say, “We are depending on the Lord our God,” but Hezekiah destroyed the Lord’s altars and the places of worship. Hezekiah told Judah and Jerusalem, “You must worship only at this one altar.”

8 “‘Now make an agreement with my master, the king of Assyria: I will give you two thousand horses if you can find enough men to ride them. 9 You cannot defeat one of my master’s least important officers, so why do you depend on Egypt to give you chariots and horsemen? 10 I have not come to attack and destroy this country without an order from the Lord. The Lord himself told me to come to this country and destroy it.’”

11 Then Eliakim, Shebna, and Joah said to the field commander, “Please speak to us in the Aramaic language. We understand it. Don’t speak to us in Hebrew, because the people on the city wall can hear you.”

12 But the commander said, “My master did not send me to tell these things only to you and your king. He sent me to speak also to those people sitting on the wall who will have to eat their own dung and drink their own urine like you.”

13 Then the commander stood and shouted loudly in the Hebrew language, “Listen to what the great king, the king of Assyria says, 14 The king says you should not let Hezekiah fool you, because he can’t save you. 15 Don’t let Hezekiah talk you into trusting the Lord by saying, ‘The Lord will surely save us. This city won’t be handed over to the king of Assyria.’

16 “Don’t listen to Hezekiah. The king of Assyria says, ‘Make peace with me, and come out of the city to me. Then everyone will be free to eat the fruit from his own grapevine and fig tree and to drink water from his own well. 17 After that I will come and take you to a land like your own—a land with grain and new wine, bread and vineyards.’

18 “Don’t let Hezekiah fool you, saying, ‘The Lord will save us.’ Has a god of any other nation saved his people from the power of the king of Assyria? 19 Where are the gods of Hamath and Arpad? Where are the gods of Sepharvaim? They did not save Samaria from my power. 20 Not one of all the gods of these countries has saved his people from me. Neither can the Lord save Jerusalem from my power.”

21 The people were silent. They didn’t answer the commander at all, because King Hezekiah had ordered, “Don’t answer him.”

22 Then Eliakim, Shebna, and Joah tore their clothes to show how upset they were. (Eliakim son of Hilkiah was the palace manager, Shebna was the royal secretary, and Joah son of Asaph was the recorder.) The three men went to Hezekiah and told him what the field commander had said. — Isaiah 36 | New Century Version (NCV) The Holy Bible, New Century Version®. Copyright © 2005 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Cross References: Deuteronomy 12:2; 1 Kings 4:25; 1 Kings 13:18; 1 Kings 20:23; 2 Kings 7:6; 2 Kings 17:6; 2 Kings 18:7; 2 Kings 18:11; 2 Kings 18:13; 2 Kings 18:17,18 and 19; 2 Kings 18:27; 2 Chronicles 32:15; 2 Chronicles 32:18; Ezra 4:7; Psalm 146:3; Proverbs 9:7-8; Isaiah 22:5; Isaiah 37:10-11; Jeremiah 36:24

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

A seal-skin around my shoulders (part 2)

Elendil x Selkie!reader

*****

You remain silent as you follow Elendil away from the beach and, for the very first time in your life, you enter the world of the Land-people. The city is called Armenelos, your guide tells you, the great and mighty capital of the kingdom of Númenor, ruled by the noble King Tar-Palantir. All those names mean little to you, but you cannot help being impressed by the great buildings rising all around you, the large streets full of people, men and women and children clothed in all the colours of the rainbow, animals you don't have names for moving among them or being fed by their masters. One of them -a large beast with four spindly legs and a long face, that a man older than Elendil is riding- passes you by in the street and sniffs you with interest, as if it has perceived you do not belong to the same race as the people of the city, making you jolt.

"It is just a horse; you needn't worry, they are not aggressive." Elendil explains, and you mumble that you were not scared, just caught off guard. The Man on the back of the animal has noticed you are naked under the cape and he is looking at you in a way that you do not like; you avert his eyes, and Elendil is quick in taking your elbow and leading you away.

So many people; so many things, and sounds, and smells even, you don't know and cannot name; you recognize the language spoken in the city and could answer if someone were to address you, but most of the topics and concepts you hear are incomprehensible, which makes you feel even more alone, and defenceless. You grit your teeth, determined not to show any weakness or fear, but deep down you heave a sigh of relief when the Man next to you announces you have reached his abode.

He lives alone, which is both a reassurance -the fewer Land-people you enter in contact with, the safer you will feel- and a cause of concern -Elendil seems friendly, but who knows what his intentions are once the two of you will be alone?- but still you try to remain impassive as he opens the door and invites you in.

"I will find something for you to wear." he promises, and a minute later he has offered you some of his clothes - a tunic and pants, he explains as you struggle to put them on, and a pair of boots to wear on your feet; nothing is exactly of your size, but at least now Elendil seems able to look at you without embarassment. "Are you cold?" he asks, and when you nod, he turns to a structure on one side of the largest room of the house; he kneels, fumbles for a minute, and then...

"This is... fire?" you wonder, coming closer as you already feel the warmth caressing your face and hands; the thing the heat is coming from looks almost a living being, the flames dancing as you and your friends were last night, unaware of the danger you were in.

"It is; do not touch it, or you will get burned. How do you know that, by the way? I doubt you can kindle a fire underwater."

"Obviously not. But my grandmother, our elder, knows the world of the Land-dwellers more than most of us, and she taught me some things. It is... beautiful..."

Elendil smiles, as if he found your amazement endearing. He invites you to sit next to the fire to warm up, and a minute later he has brought you a small bowl with a kind of scented, flavorful water; it is called tea, he explains, and on land it is often drank when a person is cold, or has gone through a traumatic event.

The tea is delicious, pleasant on your tongue as well as your nose; you sip it slowly, as Elendil asks whether you are hungry, or hurt after the altercation with your would-be captors. He is acting as if you were old friends, or he had received the visit of an honored guest, and you cannot help appreciating that kindness and helpfulness... assuming that those emotions are genuine, and he is not actually planning to earn your trust and then betray you.

You openly look at each other as you drink your tea, curiosity and uncertainty clear in both your and Elendil's eyes.

"I need to find my seal-skin." you state in the end; you are not ready to fully trust this Man, since you have been taught to be wary of them since you were old enough to swim by yourself, but they cannot be all evil, just like all Selkie are not kind and good. "Those Men stole it from me."

"It will not be easy..."

"It is mine. I want it back. Does the law of the Land-dwellers allow a person to take another's property without repercussion?"

Elendil assures you that actually the kingdom's laws are quite strict when it comes to theft or robbery; on the other hand, to demand justice would mean to reveal your true nature, and at that point, while the King is a fair and merciful ruler, who knows what dangers you would have to face, or if your rights would be considered equal with those of Númenor's subjects?

"Then what should I do?" you wonder, frustrated as you try not to give in to panic; you are alone, without friends or allies among people who have no reason to help you, and you have no way to lawfully reclaim your most prized possession "I cannot remain here!"

Elendil reflects for a while, running his fingers through his hair. "We could try and find the Men who stole the seal-skin from you, and force them to give it back." he proposes in the end, and you are struck by the ease he says we with... as if, even though he belongs to a race that wouldn't readily recognize your rights, he has already decided to assist you and take your side "Did you hear them call each other by name? Did they have any recognizable characteristic, like a scar...?"

You are forced to admit you wouldn't be able to describe your attackers, apart from a general impression: they were both tall and robust, with dark hair, and spoke with the same inflection as him. "But maybe we could go back to the... alehouse? And ask whether someone knows the Men who last night were saying they had almost captured a Selkie."

"It is a good idea." he admits, and he smiles "I will go now".

"I will come with you."

"It is better if you don't. You will be safer here."

You tell him that, while you appreciate his help and hospitality, you have no intention to remain idle while he attempts to find something that belongs to you. You look exactly like a Land-dweller, and as long as you don't draw attention on yourself, you will be safe.

Elendil sighs; he tries to explain that the only clothes he was able to give you are his, and people will notice you are a woman dressed as a man. But in the end he relents, gives you a cape to cover yourself, and leads you outside.

"Please, keep close to me." he admonishes you, as if you were a little girl unable to take care of herself, but you bite your tongue and swallow your pride: you do need help, and as long as you remain on land, your very survival could depend on him.

In a few minutes' walk you have reached the busiest part of the city; Elendil moves confidently in the intricate net of streets, some larger and cleaner than others, while you have to make an effort to remain focused on the need to find your seal-skin, rather than being distracted by... well, by everything taking place all around you. A group of children are playing with a ball in a square, following rules that seem to change whenever the players want, while two elders discuss outside a building - a potter's shop, you will discover in time; a few men, most of which bare-chested, are adding bricks to the wall of another building. Women chat happily as they wash clothes in a large stone basin, and a man sitting in a corner is using a bulky instrument, teardrop-shaped with a long neck, to produce a pleasant music; a small crowd has gathered around him, listening to his performance.

So many things to see. So many things you do not understand, and you would like to ask about; your head is almost spinning for the whirlwind of colors and sounds and movements all around you, but rather than nervous, you feel curious, almost excited, to discover this world you never thought you would see, even though you have been forced to stay...

"What is the name of that instrument?" you ask Elendil, who has stopped next to you to listen to the minstrel.

"It is a flute. Do Selkie... know music?"

"We do. My grandmother used to own a flute, that one of our ancestors had carved with the wood of a tree growing close to the shore; I loved to hear her play when I was a child." you recount; you think about your grandmother, and your voice trembles at the thought that you may never see her again "But the flute broke a few years past, and I have never heard music since then. It is very pleasant."

He agrees, and he smiles as he does it; he has a nice smile, the small wrinkles around his mouth suggesting that it comes naturally to him, and for a moment, and for some reasons, you find yourself smiling back.

The alehouse is a small white-walled building, consisting of a single room where many Men -not a single woman in sight, except for the ones who serve- sit around the tables drinking, talking and playing games with small cubes. Elendil talks to the owner, and then a few other people; no one seems particularly interested in listening to him, but after a while he is able to interrogate them about the Men who bragged about having almost captured a Selkie.

"Why do you care? That is the most absurd story I have ever heard, and I heard many, working here."

"What about that coat, then?" someone contradicts the owner "It looked just like the one of a seal."

"Of a seal, exactly; they probably skinned one of those and now look for someone gullible enough to pay a fortune for it..."

In the end, the best Elendil can do is to have the owner promise to spread the word, so that your would-be captors know someone is interested in their story and looking for them. You wait next to him listening, until you notice that a Man older than Elendil is looking at you insistently; in the end he says something to his companions, stands and walks up to you.

"Are you his woman?" he asks bluntly; you blink, and "No." you answer honestly, and you regret it a moment later, when you see his mouth open in a lascivious smile.

"Then why don't you come sit with us?" he proposes; the other four Men sitting at his table are laughing, an unpleasant and derisive sound.

"No. Thank you, but no."

"Oh, do not be a prude now! Just a minute...!"

The Man grabs your arm; you, who detest being touched without permission, try as you might to push him away, but that only serves to make him even more determined. No one is laughing anymore, and two other Men stand to approach, the three blocking you against the wall...

"Is there a problem?"

Elendil's smile is strained as he slids between you and the Men, who almost reflexively step back; he is alone against three, and younger, but there is something in him, an authority and a self-assurance that appears to intimidate his adversaries. "Good day, friends. May we help you?"

"We were talking to the girl, boy; and we know you are not her husband, so get away." the first who approached you answers.

"I will, and my friend will come with me; our friends are waiting for us. Come, dear, we better hurry."

He takes your hand and, gently but firmly, leads you to the alehouse's door, the Men he had to take you away from looking at him with resentment, but silently.

"I am sorry." he says as soon as you have left the alehouse behind you "That place is not the most... respectable in the city, especially for a beautiful woman."

You are so focused on the need to recover your seal-skin that you pay no attention to that penultimate word. "Then why were you there, last night?" you challenge him; you know you should be grateful for the help he is giving you, as well as the way he has just intervened on your behalf, and you are, truly! But still, you have never been so defenseless, and you know him too little not to feel ill at ease "Is this the kind of places you usually visit?"

Elendil assures you that last night had been his first visit to the alehouse, and he only went because a friend was celebrating his engagement. "You have no reason to fear me; I only want to help you." he swears, aware that you have all reasons to doubt him and he has no way to convince you, but still determined to prove his good faith; you simply nod, feeling instinctively inclined to trust him, to put your life in his hands, and wishing you didn't have to.

"What do we do now? I cannot wait for the word to be spread until someone identifies the Men who stole my seal-skin." you state, and Elendil admits it is too fleeble a hope to count on it.

"We can try at the market, and then at the harbour; sooner or later we will find someone who knows them." he tries to reassure you, and while you dearly wish it were sooner rather than later, you accept that it may take only the Great Father knows how long to locate the people you are looking for.

You follow Elendil around the city for long enough that your feet begin hurting inside the boots he lent you, and while he speaks to dozens of people, asking again and again the same questions and receiving most of the time the same answer, you look all around you, trying to make sense of that world that is at the same time exciting and terryfing.

Elendil perceives your curiosity, and is all too happy to act as your guide. At the market he is stunned to realize you have no concept of trade, or money, since your people have always procured food for themselves, elders and children being provided for by the others; on the other hand, Selkie tribes often exchange their catches when certain aliments are rare or absent in their respective feeding grounds, so you understand what bartering means.

"Are you saying that these little things have the same value of a fish?" you ask, skepticism clear in your voice, as you look at the little silver and golden circles that Elendil is showing you, and that he keeps in a pouch hidden under his tunic.

"Even more; if you have enough you can buy even a house, or a ship. In fact, you can buy whatever you want with them."

"I cannot believe it, they look like something our children would play with..."

Elendil smiles, and invites you to use one of the coins yourself; you reach a stall together, where you exchange one silver coin with two small portions of a food Elendil explains is called bread, one of the most common aliments in all land kingdoms, with small pieces of blueberry ("It is a fruit. Err... do you know what a fruit is?" "Of course I do! Do you think there are no trees growing near the Sea?") inside. You take one of them and sink your teeth in it, having suddenly realized how hungry you are, and the taste is so delicious you almost moan out loud. So soft and savoury, and completely different from anything you have ever eaten before; a few bites, and your hand is empty.

You wish you could have another one, but even though you don't know how money works yet you perceive that it would be unfair to ask Elendil to buy you more food, especially after everything he is already doing for you.

"That was delicious! Thank you for... paying for it."

He smiles, as if he were happy to please you. "I am glad you like it, blueberry bread is also my favourite. My mother used to prepare it at home, when I was younger."

"My grandmother used to make me eat cuttlefish meat even though I did not like it, because apparently it makes young Selkie grow strong."

"Interesting..."

Leaving the market, you walk some more to reach the most populated area of the city, where Elendil hopes the Men who stole your seal-skin may have gone to try and sell it.

"How many coins do you think they could have for it?" you ask, and your voice is full of bitterness as you speak, but Elendil takes your hands in his, looking as determined as if you were looking for a way to save his life, and not the property of someone he had never met until last night.

"We will find it." he promises; the blue of his eyes is almost blinding, deeper than any ocean you have ever swum in "I promise. I don't know how, but you will have your seal-skin back."

You don't answer -you would not know how- but you believe him, you trust him; about that, and everything else, from that moment on.

As you slowly leave the market, Elendil points to a tall, slim building visible against the horizon: it was built by the first King of Númenor, Elros, whose mother was said to have transformed in a Sea-bird.

"Is it true?" you ask, fascinated.

"Well, I am not sure." he admits "But it is a beautiful story, don't you think?"

"It is. I wish I could do it as well..."

The smell of salt in the air reveals that you have reached the great port of the city; Elendil points to the different types of ships anchored around you, some barely big enough for two people and other with enormous white sails, gently rippled by the wind, whose wooden belly could contain your whole tribe and that Elendil tells you can sail to the other end of the Sea, transporting the wares of merchants, or an army heading to war, or diplomats and courtiers sent on a mission by the King.

"One day I will be captain of one of those ships." he proudly promises you "I have joined the Sea Guard only two years ago, but within five years I will have my own command, you wait and see."

He is full of enthusiasm as he speaks of his dream, the ambition that has been in his heart since he was a child to serve in the Sea-army of his people and make a name for himself as a soldier and seaman; he wants to explore the farthest parts of the Sea and the lands surrounding them, and uphold the name of his family fighting for his kingdom.

"It is a beautiful aspiration." you comment. Elendil has a deep, musical voice, and there is sincere enthusiasm in his words; it is pleasant to listen to him "I also wish I could travel; explore the depths of the Sea away from the territory my tribe lives in."

"Have you been forbidden from doing so?"

"Oh, no. But my only living relative is my grandmother, and I want to take care of her; one day, when I am free from other obligations, I will go."

After a while you leave the port to continue your search in another part of the city, and in the end you decide to return home as the sun begins its descend towards the horizon, and torches are lit on the buildings' walls and in the squares against the dark of the night. The last hours have been highly instructive, even pleasant, as you explore the world of the Land-people as no Selkie must have ever done before, but you can barely contain your anxiety now; you are tired, and famished, your feet hurt, but even though you spent most of the day searching for them, consulting countless people and asking to be informed if someone hears about them, the two Men who stole your seal-skin appear to have vanished. None of the many men and women you made an appeal to has any idea of their names, of where they live, and while a few people admit of hearing about someone claiming they had seen Selkie dancing and almost captured one of them, they can offer no help in finding the thieves.

Even though your predicament doesn't concern him, Elendil is as disappointed and worried as you are. "I am so sorry." he says at the end of your fruitless search "I though... a Selkie's seal-skin is not something one can normally find in a market, if someone were selling one the news would have spread. Maybe the thieves had already a deal with a buyer, and they left the city to bring the loot to him."

It makes sense, which means that by this time your precious seal-skin could have been brought to any part of the kingdom, but whatever the reason, your already faint hope to find it and get it back, feels even scanter. What will you do now?

"Forgive me, I really wish I could help you..."

"Do not concern yourself." you reflexively answer, and after all it is appropriate, because the one who has cause to be concerned is you "I already knew the odds were against me, but I had to try. Elendil, I really appreciate your help; I will never forget everything you did to me."

He frowns, realizing you are saying goodbye. "Wait... what are you going to do now? Will your friends be waiting for you at the beach?"

You really wish they would. Selkie can come ashore whenever they want, even though traditionally they only do it on full moon nights, and you are sure your grandmother and the other members of your tribe are terribly worried about you; but you doubt someone is waiting for you at the beach where the dance took place last night, to make sure you are all right and help you find a way to return home.

"The Men who stole my seal-skin know where we were; they were waiting for us." you remind him "If they were still in the city, what would keep them from returning to try and capture one of us, or me, again, guessing I would also go back to speak to my people?"

"But if they were, we could force them to return your seal-skin."

Again he says we; instinctively, even though you are sure not by accident, as if the desire and the decision to help you, to make your problems his own, are so natural he has no need to think about it. You look at him, and for a moment, only the time of a beat of your heart, you wish you had the opportunity to know him better.

"It would still be too dangerous. A Selkie's seal-coat has not been stolen since before my grandmother's mother was alive, but my people have rules for circumstances like this. As a Selkie stranded on land, I have to find a way to return to the Sea without assistance, or resign to never see my home and my people again; the others may not interfere, no matter how worried they are, because it would be dangerous for us all. I can only rely on my own strenght... and if I cannot find my seal-coat, I will spend the rest of my life alone on land."

"It sounds... cruel..."

"You are a soldier. Would you not sacrifice yourself for the safety of your people?"

Elendil doesn't answer; he seems conflicted, as if he understood your decision, but could not help finding it unjust. "No." he decides in the end "I cannot accept it. I cannot leave you to fend for yourself in a world you do not understand and where you cannot count on anyone. Come with me."

"With you?"

"You can sleep with me - err, at my home, until we find your seal-skin. I have a spare room, you can stay as long as you need."

One look at his blue eyes, the conviction and the determination in his gaze so intense and unwavering, is enough to make you realize you won't be able to change his mind, because he wants to do what is right, and what is right, at the moment, is to host in his abode someone he has never met before, that he has no objective reason to trust, and who for all he knows might never be able to return home - which is, probably, the main reason behind his offer.

You have many dear friends among the members of your tribe, but no one has ever done anything like this for you, and certainly you would not have expected to see such selflessness from a member of the race you have always been taught to distrust. He is waiting for your answer, but you cannot speak, because a lump in your throat forbids you from saying more than...

"Thank you." It is barely more than a whisper "I... I am very grateful. I do not want to bother you, and if you change your mind..."

"I won't. Do not worry, I am glad to help. Come now." he gently adds with a smile, as if he perfectly understand what you are feeling, as if he can see in your heart and your mind like no one has ever done before "Let us go home. Once you will have eaten, and slept, we will decide what to do."

Wordlessly you obey, the red light of sunset bathing your figures as you and your new friend set out for home.

Tagging @starlady66 and @elvenenby.

[glimmcr]

𝑽𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑻𝒀  𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹  𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺   ...   A  LIE  DETECTER  TEST

"  we're  going  to  be  taking  a  lie  detector  test  today.  you  will  be  hooked  up  to  the  machine,  and  we  will  ask  you  a  series  of  questions  -  whether  you  tell  the  truth  or  lie  is  up  to  you,  but  the  test  wil  be  able  to  snitch  out  any  lies."

"  to  start,  what  is  your  first  name  and  what  city  are  we  in  ?  "

"micah callaghan and new york city. is this just to make sure it registers if i'm lying or not?"

"  thank  you.  how  are  you  feeling  today  ?  "

body language goes still for a moment before a fake smile is plastered on his face. "i'm fine, thank you for asking." blank stares in the room for a moment before he huffed. "okay, i'm a bit nervous about all of this."

"  understandable.  how  about  an  easier  one  -  what's  your  favourite  colour  ?  "

"blue, deep blues but i also like light blues and light greens."

"  and  your  favourite  film  genre ?  "

"i actually really enjoy documentaries. they fascinate me but other than that i enjoy older noir films."

"  let's  see  -  what  is  one  thing  you  wouldn't  be  found  without ?  "

"my phone." answered too quickly, a lie.

"  keeping  it  light,  what's  your  drink  of  choice  ?  "

"water, i cannot hold liquor to save my life."

"  which  of  the  following  have  you  attended,  and  would  you  attend ?  "

bold  what's  been  attended,  italicize  what  would  attend  /  attend  again.

the  ballet.  the  met  gala.  the  horse  track.  the  race  track.  a  yacht  party.  the  opera.  the  orchestra.  a  broadway  show.  a  shakespeare  production.  a  concert.  a  comedian.  an  (  american  )  football  game.  a  soccer  /  football  game.  a  documentary  film.  a  film  premiere.  a  polo  game.  art  museum.  wine  tastings.  nyc  sightseeing  tour.  celebrity  sightseeing  tours.  haunted  tours.  charity  galas.  fashion  shows.  fashion  week.  disneyworld  /  disneyland.  a  basketball  game.  a  hockey  game.  a  baseball  game.  a  boxing  match.  a  cricket  match.  the  golf  course.  the  olympics.  

"  oooh,  we're  jumping  into  something  a  bit  heavier  now.  what  is  the  one  thing  you  want  to  achieve  in  life  ?  "

"can we skip this question?" a pause. "fine, i'd like to do something i haven't before. take a risk." still a lie.

"  who  knows  what  the  fates  ​​​​​​​have  ​​​​​​​in  ​​​​​​​store.  ​​​​​​​how  do  you  feel  about  reputation.com ?  it's  ​​​​​​​all  ​​​​​​​anyone  ​​​​​​​seems  ​​​​​​​to  be  ​​​​​​​talking  about  lately."

"honestly? i haven't really bothered to keep up with it? gossip blogs don't really stay on my radar for long."

"  everyone  is  entitled  to  their  own  opinion,  i  guess.  what's  the  weirdest  /  craziest  headline  you've  read  about  yourself  there  ?  "

"i'm pretty sure someone accused me of being secretly bald on there for wearing a hat."

"  what's  something  you  are  currently  working  on  ?  "

"a little bit of my own music. stay tuned for some updates on that."

"  i'll  look  forward  to  it.  one  last  official  question  -  and  it's  an  easier  one.  cats  or  dogs ?  "

"cats. i've never had one but i just always liked them."

"  personally,  i'm  a  dog  fan  anyday.  anything  else  you'd  like  to  add ?  "

"no, i think i'm good."

"  well,  thank  you  so  much  for  joining  us  today  ​​​​​​​-  can't  ​​​​​​​wait  ​​​​​​​to  ​​​​​​​have  ​​​​​​​you  ​​​​​​​back  ​​​​​​​with  ​​​​​​​us  soon."