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#and like that definitely partially explains yesterday
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#so I’m back on my meds#the ones that actually help but have HELLA side effects#started losing weight almost right away#didn’t notice I wasn’t eating until I was getting the tingles and losing vision a couple days in#been focusing on forcing myself to eat#but yesterday I made the mistake of smoking bc I was feeling a bit better#BAD idea#was making hot chocolate when my blood pressure just plummeted#made it to the living room and put myself in recovery postition#I don’t think I fully lost consciousness bc I stayed kneeling#but I lost time but when I was are again I was still kneeling and usually I’d be on my side after fully losing consciousness#but it also lasted a full like 45 minutes where I couldn’t sit up or move#it took about two hours before I was able to make it back upstairs#I texted my dad to let him know what was going on just in case but he missed my texts so I also reached out to another friend#and asked them to check in after a bit to make sure I was still awake#which they did and I was#but now today I just took my temp on a whim bc I’ve been really warm all day#turns out I have a fever of 100.6 which isn’t super high but is high for me#and like that definitely partially explains yesterday#took a Covid test and came back negative#this really kinda sucks#mood: great#energy: more than normal#BUT dizzy can’t stop shaking keep getting spots in vision and have visibly lost weight#like. . . I feel like I could actually DO things and I WANT to do things thanks to these meds#but body clearly has other ideas#anyway I’ve only been back on them like a week and a half the side effects will start to subside in a few more weeks and I’ll be okay#but I gotta keep reminding myself to eat bc last time I was on these I lost 14lbs in about a month#anyway just me rambling about health#personal
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bethdutten · 2 years
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think of me
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bucky x temporarily enhanced!reader 
summary: a mission gone wrong transfers wanda’s powers to you. now that you can read minds, you find out all sorts of things bucky has been keeping to himself.
words: 2k
a/n: another random fic no one asked for!
It happened so quickly, you didn’t have a chance to stop it.
The villain-of-the-week appeared beside you, grabbing your arm. You flinched, a hand immediately flying out to shove Wanda back and safely out of the way before you kicked this guy’s ass, but—
The second you hand touched her, you felt a wave of power ripple between you, and you hit the ground as everything went black.
—-
“How’s she doin’?”
“Same as yesterday.”
“Yeah? Shit. It’s been, what, a week? What if she—“
“Don’t say it.”
“… Jesus, I didn’t mean—“
“Man, if you’re going to be an ass, just get out of here.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean— she’s gonna be fine.”
“Yeah.”
There was silence for a really long time, your brain registering the voices as Bucky and Sam before it drifted off into sleep again. When you woke again, it was to Bucky’s voice, panicked and scared.
“What if she doesn’t wake up? Fuck, why wasn’t I there? I’m so useless, if I can’t protect her why am I even on the team? Why didn’t I tell her? I should have told her—“
“Buck?” you mumbled, eyes fluttering open as you searched him out. You expected to see him pacing the room, that angry look on his face he always got when he was putting himself down, anxiously running his hands through his hair maybe—
Instead, your eyes met soft slate-blue ones sitting by the side of your bed, a book in his left hand and his right one holding yours. His face was filled with relief for a moment, settling into one of ease.
“Thank fuck. You’re okay.”
You frowned, the light pouring in from the window hurting your head, giving you a headache. “Are you?”
Bucky tilted his head, watching you strangely. “Why are you asking me that? You’re the one that’s been out cold for week.”
“She’s got a concussion, great. I should call the doctor.”
You froze. Bucky’s voice, only Bucky wasn’t speaking. But—
“You probably have a concussion,” he sighed, squeezing your hand gently before he let it go and stood up, “I’ll get a doctor.”
As he left the room, you blinked and tried to figure out what was going on. Did you just… read Bucky’s mind?
When he came back with a doctor in tow, you knew for sure something was seriously wrong. There was a voice in the room you didn’t recognize until after the doctor introduced himself, then it was vitals and confusing stats being repeated but he wasn’t speaking them. Bucky’s voice was all around the room, although he was silent.
Is she okay? Why isn’t he saying anything? Of course she’s not okay, but what’s wrong with her? I’m going to strangle this guy if he doesn’t do something to help my girl—
Suddenly your heart monitor was beeping a lot faster, the doctor furrowing his brow and focusing on your pulse now. His girl? Since when did Bucky think of you like that?
“Are you feeling dizzy?” The doctor asked, but you turned to Bucky instead.
“Um, where’s Wanda? Is she okay?” you squeaked, allowing yourself to be prodded as the doctor’s thoughts lingered on a low-grade concussion.
“She’s here with Sam. No injuries, but her powers are gone,” Bucky explained, his thoughts still on various ways to injure the doctor if he didn’t give him an update on how you were. You just nodded, partially zoning out as the doctor finally told you it was definitely a concussion, and the broken ankle you got when you fell was already healing when you were out.
Did you somehow get Wanda’s powers? You didn’t have time to think too long on it before the woman herself was bursting in, quickly pushing out Bucky and the doctor, ignoring the scowl and practically a snarl of warning from the former.
“You’re wake, dulceață.” And you can hear me, right?
You gasped, nodding. “Wanda, what’s going on? Why can I hear what you’re thinking, and Bucky’s—“
Wanda gave a knowing smile, but shook her head. “The latest bad guy. He was able to transfer my powers to you, when we all had a point of contact. When you pushed me out of the way.”
“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry—“
“Stop, you were protecting me, you have no way of knowing,” she soothed, her accent coming out stronger when she was like this.
You bit your lip, sitting up carefully. “Is this… permanent?”
She considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “We should probably go to Bruce, get checked out once they release you. But until then, I don’t think we should worry anyone by saying anything.”
You frown, staring at you. There was silence-- both in the room and in her head. She was blocking you out, because she knew you could read her thoughts. Yeah, you could see how people knowing would get annoying for you. “Okay. But--”
“And a bit of advice?” she began, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t act on anything people think but don’t say. They keep it to themselves for a reason.” She gave you another knowing smile, which only made you think back to Bucky, and how he called you his girl--
“What do you know?”
“Nothing you won’t know soon,” she answered, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “He will tell you when he is ready,” she said quietly, then pulled back with smile. “Shall we get you home?”
You didn’t know what she meant, but it was already killing you.
---
It was torturous, knowing what everyone was thinking and not being able to do anything about it. No wonder Wanda was always on edge-- hearing things like how miserable on Earth Thor was all the time, how horny Natasha really was, all the pointless facts Clint remembered throughout the day that made you forget why you walked into the room-- it was driving you insane.
But the worst was Bucky.
Once you were released from the hospital, he insisted he stayed with you. No matter the weird looks everyone gave him, he was relentless.
It didn’t help that his thoughts were making you want to either punch him or kiss him.
You’d always had a huge crush on Bucky. He’d been stuck with you as a partner when you joined the team, and by some miracle, you worked well together. He was always there when you needed him, and you tried to do the same for him. You never thought that he would be thinking of you that way.
You loved him, let’s be honest. It was impossible not to. Hearing him think about you like this was driving you insane when you couldn’t let him know.
I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, what if she doesn’t wake up? It’s my fault, the least I can do is stay up and make sure she’s okay.
“Bucky, it wasn’t your fault--”
He stopped from where he was making up a bed on the couch (which he refused to let you take, no, you had to have the bed) and gave you a funny look. “What?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, realizing you were responding to things in his head, not anything he’d said. This was going to be harder than you thought. “I just... don’t want you to feel guilty. About what happened. If that’s why you’re doing all this.”
I’m doing it because I love you.
“I’m doing it because you’re my partner, and I don’t want you to have a stroke and leave me without someone on my six, idiot.”
You almost choked, what he was thinking taking you by surprise, and what he said being so nonchalant. He just rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding.” I love you so much, damn in.
What the fuck was going on?
He ushered you into his bedroom, giving you a death glare and reassuring you he was just outside, then he left you to panic on your own. 
What were you supposed to do with that information? Bucky loves you? Since when? And why wouldn’t he say anything? Now you had to just keep this to yourself knowing he could have you if he would just--
You reached for your phone, quickly texting the one person who would understand this whole fucked up situation.
what the hell? u could have warned me? bucky????
w: took longer than I thought
???
w: what’s he thinking now
how much he loves me? since when?? I'm freaking out
w: ha. ya he does that a lot. since forever?? you love him too, shut up
ok but... why doesn't he say anything? what am I supposed to do with this information?
w: TELL HIM U IDIOT. its not like he won’t love you back ;)
You threw your phone to the foot of the bed, trying to talk yourself down from a panic attack. She was right. You may not be able to confront Bucky and tell him you know he loves you, but you could probably tell him you liked him, too, and there was a guarantee he wouldn’t reject you.
But did you want that? Wouldn’t that change the dynamic of your partnership?
Or was it already too late?
You fell into a fitful sleep, dreams of Bucky while his scent surrounded you tormenting your mind all night.
---
“Hey, time to wake up. Come on, you’ve been asleep too long, don’t make me drag you out of bed.” Is she okay? Shit, I should have woken her up earlier, do I call a doctor? God damn it--
You groaned, letting Bucky know you were awake before you felt a hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. You were half asleep still, mumbling, “I’m fine, calm down.”
I am calm, I’m fine, sorry I care if you’re alive or not, sweetheart.
You let out a huff of a laugh, burrowing further into the blankets that still smelled of Bucky. “I’m alive, sweetheart.”
You felt the hand on your cheek suddenly pull away, a sharp intake of breath startling you to full awakeness.
“What did you say?”
You blinked, sitting up slightly. “What? Nothing. What did you--”
“Can you read my mind?”
Shit. Half asleep, you couldn’t tell what was Bucky must have been saying versus thinking, and accidentally responded to a thought he was having instead. You blushed, stuttering. “Uh-- n-no, I mean, I might, but I didn’t”
Bucky stared at you, a studying look on his face. It was that last mission, when you and Wanda went down, right? You got her ability to read minds? You’ve been doing it this whole time?
You looked down, ashamed, like you’d just invaded on his privacy and crossed so many lines, because you did. But it wasn’t your fault-- you didn’t ask for it. You couldn’t stop it, at least not until you spoke to Bruce today. You nodded.
“So, there’s no point hiding it anymore, is there?”
You met his eyes, surprised at his soft tone of voice and a hint of a smile on his lips. You tilted your head in question, heart beginning to beat faster at what he was possible implying. “Hiding what?”
Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly looking very small and nervous. “You’ve heard everything I’ve been thinking, right? It’s not like I’ve been subtle about it.” About how much I love you.
You had to bite down on your lower lip to stop from smiling, shrugging. “No, I guess not.”
He searched your face, taking a breath out before he asked, “And? It doesn’t freak you out?”
You paused, before finally giving in and smiling. This stupid man. “Why would it freak me out, Buck? I love you, too.”
“Wait, what?” He visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping and jaw unclenched as his eyes met yours again, full of hope. “Really? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?” you teased, shoving at his shoulder. That earned you a grin, and he shrugged.
“Technically, I did.”
You shook your head, sidling a bit closer. “Technically, I’m the only one who has said it.” 
Bucky gave you a fond look, his metal hand coming up to cup your face, making you move in automatically until your lips were a breath away. 
“I love you,” he whispered, just as he thought it, then he kissed you. It was slow as molasses, his tongue licking into your mouth and even tasting like the honey he liked on his toast. 
But he pulled away before you could really savour it, asking, “Wait. Is this permanent? Like, are you always going to be able to read my mind?” Because sometimes I think of you in some very inappropriate ways. Very fun, but very distracting.
You rolled your eyes. “Unfortunately, no, Wanda and I are going to see Bruce this afternoon to see what he can do. It should be reversible.”
“Too bad,” Bucky murmured, leaning in to press a kiss behind your ear. You shivered, hands clinging to his shirt.
“Guess you’ll just have to tell me all those thoughts out loud, then.”
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dollywheeler · 7 months
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October 15th, 1996
Dear diary,
Mrs. Benson said something strange yesterday. We were taking a short walk around the neighborhood - per her doctor’s orders to get her moving again - when we passed Mike and Will’s place. It was already dark out, so the house was lit up, the lights spilling out of the many windows and the skylights over the hall. There were thin curtains pulled over the windows for privacy - which was definitely a necessity in a house like this or we’d be able to follow everything going on inside like it’s a doll house. Even like this we’d probably be able to see silhouettes moving like shadow puppets if anyone were to pass the window.
We were just walking past when Mrs. Benson’s eyes caught onto the building as well. The start of the high school basketball season managed to pull attention away from the town’s “new” arrivals, and most people’s conversations have moved on from the return of Mike Wheeler and Will Byers, so it was a bit of a surprise when Mrs. Benson mentioned it again. Just a throw-away line about how time was changing or something. I'll never understand people's weird fascination with the concept of "two young men" - seriously people keep referring to them as such as if they haven't known their names since they were toddlers - moving in together. It's like they've never heard of the concept of sharing rent.
Mrs. Benson said something about Mrs. Chatham further up the street being quite upset about Mike and Will moving into the house - apparently she'd been close to the previous owners or something, said it was a "waste of a beautiful house". I was kind of zoning out as cheer practice had been brutal but it struck me as weird. I mean I get where Mrs. Chatham was coming from - I also think it would be a beautiful home for children to grow up in - but so is her house and she's been living there alone for the last fifteen years.
Anyway, Mrs. Benson tried asking me questions about Mike and Will again but I've been very dismissive whenever anyone asks. Partially because everyone's disproportionate level of intrigue is kind of freaky, but I guess I also just don't really feel comfortable talking about them yet because they expect me to be some kind of expert when I'm clearly not. I still barely know anything, and I already felt awkward enough explaining to Dylan why I barely know Mike.
Which is another reason I'm looking forward to Friday - I talked to Mike as planned and he agreed to learn Champagne Supernova. I wonder how much more information I can get out of Mike and Will without mom around - surely they'll talk more, maybe even share some juicier college stories. I did manage to get a dinner invitation for mom as well but she'll just be coming for dinner while I'll be going home with Mike and Will straight after school. That should be a big enough window to get some secrets out of them.
I can hear dad getting up so I'll have to go up to breakfast soon. Morning cheer practice is getting redundant now I can only practice the choreo. I might go on a run instead tomorrow. I really should focus on tumbling, but I also don't want to break my promise to Mike. Especially as he has a point - it is dangerous to do it on my own. I'll have to come up with a solution.
Love, Holly
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zoestarlings · 2 years
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i had a little thought and then i couldnt stop thinking so here i have a little silly ahit au tl;dr: vanessa and snatcher are both human again, but thats the only thing that changed. their memories, personalities and mental problems are still the same and basically they are comedically pathetic, awfully salty students that completely forgot how to be a human being. more under the cut:
basically, i tend to believe that both vanessa and snatcher are very much alive and the prince never actually died there in the cellar, but instead they were overtaken by some dark-demonic-curse-shit when they were at their most desperate and vunerable, and it twisted their bodies (and probably partially minds) into the monsters we see now. so, i thought, if theres a curse, theres a chance that it can be lifted, and thats exatly what happened here, although i have no idea how and why. i am not even sure if hat kid helped with this in any way. maybe?? maybe not?? but anyway, they are back as humans, stripped of their powers, completely taken by surprise by all this. they still try to act like horrifying demons they were just yesterday, but it kinda doesn't work that well when you look like a disney princess movie character. hattie probably takes temporary care of them since she's friends with snatcher and leaving vanessa to freeze locked in her manor would be a bit too evil even for snatcher himself. heres my main point: since vanessa and snatcher have been these horrible shadow monsters for centuries now, they crossed the point of no return so long ago its probably impossible for them to properly heal, ESPECIALLY vanessa whos been mentally unstable even before this whole supernatural ordeal. so they are kinda the same as before, but as regular powerless human beings they are so comedically harmless they cant do much even to each other. so they, like, try to get used to being humans again, and with vanessa missing approximately half a millenia of news and progress this should be... uh... fun. cant wait to tell her that her kingdom has been gone for ages... they are DEFINITELY not getting back together, but they tolerate each other enough to have interactions and conversations that will probably finally explain to snatcher what was wrong with his wife this entire time. my head is like, FULL of thoughts about vanessas downfall into madness and how her mental issues twist her perception of the world and i would love to somehow explore these ideas. i love my horrible, awful, terrible monster lady as a bitch she is, and i'd really like to explore her character without her being nessesarily redeemed or (god forbid) forgiven. so this little silly au thingie is patrially for that, although mostly for fun. the same applies to snatcher as well, but he has been studied by so many talented people that are way better at writing than me that i cant really tell anything new in this short summary.
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vincess-princess · 1 year
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in darkness shall you be reborn
Chapter 8
Word count: 3010
Warnings: none
A\N: spitting this out in the middle of my exam season so i don't feel like a failure for not being able to edit a single 3k chapter for a month and a half
Vince gritted his teeth when the coarse leather of the collar enclosed around his neck, not tight enough to choke but plenty to rub against his skin at every movement of the head, a constant reminder in the back of his mind. Teeth-gritting didn’t help him when Nikki pulled out a rope, though. Vince staggered backwards so fast he hit his back on the counter and hardly even noticed.
“This is not necessary,” he said, his voice two tones higher than usual.
“Of course it is,” Nikki replied, openly delighting in Vince’s distress. “What if you decide to run off?”
“Run off to where?” Vince said bitterly. “I’ve never been to Port Royal. I don’t know anything or anyone here. You, on the other hand, do. Wherever I go, you’ll find me anyway.”
“For once, you’re right.” Nikki hesitated, wounding the rope around his finger. “On the other hand, you’ve been a real pain in the ass today…”
“I’m sorry,” Vince couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, but he had to step onto his dignity to avoid it being crushed completely. “I didn’t control myself well. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“You promise?” Nikki narrowed his eyes. “How do I know how much your promise is worth?”
“You don’t.” Nikki’s frown made Vince’s heart skip a beat, but fervent assurances of honesty definitely wouldn’t work on him. Good lying always had to be reasonable. “But I can’t offer you anything else.”
“You can, actually,” Nikki’s lips slowly widened into a dirty smirk. Oh no. “Last time you put up a whole show in my cabin and completely killed the mood. So you owe me, in a way. I will let you go without a leash – but you’ll spend the night in my cabin in turn, and you will do whatever I say, no sobbing and whining and fainting. Do we have a deal?”
“I can’t-“ Vince began, the panic that suffocated him half-dead yesterday stirring in his stomach again. But, if everything went well, he might not even have to go through that anymore. He couldn’t risk losing this opportunity. “I- fine. Fine. We have a deal.”
“You agreed too quickly.” Nikki tilted his head, looking him over skeptically. “But I will take it this time. Don’t forget that you promised me. You go back on your promise – I will rip your filthy lying tongue out without hesitation. You don’t need it to serve your purpose anyway. It’s not like you’re much good in oral.”
Blood flushed away from Vince’s face – Nikki’s menacing stare was pretty convincing. He didn’t doubt the captain would follow through on his threat if needed. But then, if Vince’s escape attempt fails, he’d have to bid farewell to his tongue.
He didn’t want to do it. He liked it quite a lot, actually. He would like it to remain in its place.
“I understand,” he said, unconsciously pulling at the collar. Nikki nodded, tying the rope around his own waist.
“Just in case,” he explained. “Alright, let’s get moving.”
***
The port was large and bursting at the seams with life. Shout wasn’t the only one to dock today, and a great deal of sailors of all ages and nationalities were running around carrying things and shouting in a dozen different languages, among which Vince could only catch snippets of English and Spanish. Several of them greeted Nikki, and a few even shook his hand. They probably couldn’t care less about Vince, but the sickening itch of strangers’ gazes on his neck grew stronger with every minute, forcing him to pull off his hair tie so the hair would at least partially cover the collar.
From the port gate Vince saw his ship dock next to the Shout, his former comrades and crew driven away from it, chained to one another like cattle. A lump so big his voice would surely break if he spoke formed in his throat. He was never going to see them again, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye.
“What’s the matter?” Nikki called out from the street, noticing that Vince wasn’t following him anymore. He returned to pull at his arm impatiently when he saw what made him stop. “Ah. Well, you should be glad you ain’t there with them.”
Vince looked at Nikki, disheartened. He wanted to rebel, make a scene, find a clever comeback at the very least. But he couldn’t, for the first time in his life; as though all the air was knocked out of his lungs, rendering him speechless and weak in the knees. His former life just ended in front of him, severing the last connection to his family and home. Would he ever find a way back? Or would he slowly wither away a slave in the galley of a pirate ship?
“Enough,” Nikki’s calloused fingers clasped his forearm. “We’ve gotta drop by the slaver to talk over the price. The guy’s a terrible miser, you gotta shake every penny outta him. Unfortunately, he knows how to do business.”
Through great effort, Vince swallowed the lump. His voice was still shaky, but he expected worse. “Why unfortunately?”
“Because if not for that, I’d have long found someone much more benevolent. This way.”
They walked towards a compact brick building; while rather modest, it still stood out among weathered wood shacks surrounding it. It was blistering hot, but its shade brought Vince no comfort, planting an unsettling chill in his bones. An armed guard examining them dourly from afar further reinforced the impression.
“Now,” Nikki stopped him a few feet away, out of the guard’s hearing range. “The man is… let’s say, he knows a pretty boy when he sees one. I’m not his type, but you are.”
“What are you driving at?” Vince’s mouth went dry. If that was why Nikki brought him here – to sleep with a slaver for a better price on the “goods” – then he was having none of it, even if it would cost him his only chance of escape.
“Hey, relax.” Nikki patted Vince’s shoulder, to an exactly opposite effect. “You’re my bitch, he ain’t gonna get you no matter how much he tries – and he will, believe me. But you can… let’s say, facilitate the negotiations. Nothing complicated, just smile at him and do that shy look, the one through your lashes. He might give you a slap on the ass, but nothing beyond that. If you do well, I’ll get you a present.”
“What present?” Vince demanded. He wasn’t exactly elated at the prospect, of course. But his bare feet did not take well to the rocky soil at all, as well as his back to the night chill. Getting himself boots and a jacket, simple items he never truly appreciated before, would not be too bad. Also, “facilitate the negotiations”? Where had Nikki even learned that?
“We’ll get there when we get there, princess. So – yes or no?”
“Do I even have a choice?” Vince pushed Nikki’s hand off his shoulder. It immediately returned, squeezing it even harder. “Just don’t expect anything over-the-top from me.”
Inside the building was just as austere as outside. They were led to a waiting room with only a sofa and two chairs, not even a picture on the wall. The cellar in the Wharton mansion looked more luxurious, not even mentioning all the offices Vince had visited in the past. This wasn’t a regular trader, though. A slaver hardly needed to boast the success of his enterprise through his office furnishings.
Vince lingered in the entrance, overcome by an urge to dash out of the door. Even the air here weighed down on him, suffocating him, crushing him to the ground. Nikki, seemingly oblivious to his struggle, made a beeline for the sofa, plopped onto it and heaved a long, content sigh.
“Damn, I swear, I’m only doing business with that bloke because of this sofa. It’s divine. Come sit with me.” He patted the seat next to him. Their gazes met, and the uncovered taunt in his eyes was the jolt that pushed Vince out of the feverish fog clouding his brain. He could have all the emotional breakdowns he wanted later, in the galley. Not now.
“You’ve got a problem?” Nikki raised an eyebrow. “Should I?..” he looked down at his waistband expressively. It was clear that he itched to carry out his earlier threat; any Vince’s slip-up, no matter how small, would suffice. Vince couldn’t let that happen.
He closed the door softly and lowered himself down onto the sofa after a complicated estimation of how far from Nikki he could sit to inconvenience but not anger him. It was in vain, though: Nikki unceremoniously pulled him closer, his hand landing firmly on Vince’s knee.
“Could you not,” Vince said through gritted teeth.
“Or what?” Nikki squeezed his thigh, grinning. Vince did not react. “Right. Nothing. So sit tight and be quiet.”
Fortunately, Nikki didn’t go farther than that, so when a servant showed up, Vince even felt a pang of fear. With Nikki at least he didn’t have to pretend he liked him, but the majority of men, no matter who they slept with, weren’t that way. Vince had always considered himself a decent actor, but before he never had to feign affection for people he despised.
“Mr. Holmes is waiting for you,” the servant said, his eyes lingering on Nikki for a second and on Vince – for solid ten.
“I bet he does.” Nikki rose from the sofa and gestured for Vince to follow him.
Vince expected to see someone old, fat and balding, but “Mr. Holmes” was not much older than Nikki – a massive, wide-shouldered, blond-haired man who one would expect to meet on a pirate ship rather than in an office wearing a waistcoat and a cravat. The lack of periwig and, upon further examination, a half of his right ear missing and a scar across his cheek, gave out his not quite peaceful past; he might have actually been a pirate before going into commerce. The man’s scar had long healed and whitened, but Vince’s own, which had barely closed by then, still stung with pain at the sight of it.
Seeing Nikki, the man grinned widely and almost sincerely.
“Sixx! Long time no see!” He stood up from his desk and enthusiastically shook Nikki’s hand. Next to him the captain looked abnormally small, which was quite an accomplishment. “You hasn’t dropped by Port Royal for a while. We even began to think you was done for!”
“You probably cheered. I know you bastards!” Nikki patted him on the shoulder. “But you ain’t getting rid of me that easy. I brought ya a bunch of new slaves - all adult, healthy men. I believe you can put them to good use.”
“Yeah, everyone’s talking about you invading a ship twice the size of yours. Lots of loot, I reckon.” Mr. Holmes pointed at a chair near the table for Nikki to take and sat down himself. He didn’t spare a single look in Vince’s direction so far, and Vince was in no hurry to change that. “Now, I’m definitely taking you out for a drink later, but let’s talk business first. Tell me how many men there are, how many of them are healthy and sane, and what’s the price you expect for them…”
As they discussed the details, the strain in Vince’s chest weakened slightly. So far standing silently by the door staring at the floor worked like magic – the slaver hadn’t yet acknowledged his presence in any way whatsoever. Maybe he wasn’t his type, after all. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything. Maybe-
“Alright, looks like we covered most of them,” Holmes finally concluded, sooner than Vince expected. “Except this pretty boy you brought with you. Hey, sweetie, come here, let me look at you.”
For the first time Holmes looked directly at Vince. As it turned out, it was possible to want to break a person’s nose and hide in a corner from them at the same time. Both options seemed equally enticing, so Vince did neither until Nikki glared at him and made an angry beckoning gesture. He had to step forward reluctantly, growing increasingly queasy under the slaver’s fixed stare.
“How much do you want for him?” Holmes finally shifted his gaze to Nikki. Vince hastily buttoned up his shirt while he wasn’t looking.
“Oh, for Vinnie?” Nikki grinned. “Sorry, mate, but he’s not for sale.”
“You must be joking.” Holmes frowned. “I can’t pass up on this doll, you know that.”
“Neither can I.” Nikki’s face radiated smugness. This was all fun and games for him, apparently. “But I knew you’ve got the taste to appreciate this. Come here!” He reached out for Vince, grasped him by the arm and dragged him to the table. “Face’s a little damaged, but the rest is perfectly fine.”
“Bragging’s not gonna serve you any good, Sixx, even when there’s a reason for it.” Holmes shook his head slowly. “Good way out of ‘no women on board’ rule, though.”
He stretched his hand out and stroked Vince’s uninjured cheek, and only the pain from Nikki’s fingers digging into the skin of his forearm stopped Vince from slapping it away.
“He looks at me like he’s gonna bite me,” Holmes laughed, pinching him. He wasn’t aware of how close Vince was to doing exactly that.  
“Yeah, he might,” Nikki nodded somewhat… proudly? “We’re working on that, though. Right, Vinnie?”
If gazes could kill, these two would already be nothing more but smoldering heaps of burned flesh. But they couldn’t, and Vince could only find consolation in imagining it.
“Right,” he said through gritted teeth upon receiving a painful prod in the side from Nikki.
“He ain’t too talkative, huh?” Holmes leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. “But that’s not what you got him for, I suppose. For how long’d you have him?”
“A few days, I believe. You should have seen him back then – a wild animal, really. I had him tied up the first time I banged him, and that wasn’t even enough. Tommy had to hold a knife to his throat the whole time. Not to say he didn’t enjoy it, though. Tommy, I mean. Vinnie seemed a tad bit upset about it.”
“If I weren’t restrained, I would have killed both of you,” Vince told him. Nikki just snorted, but Holmes erupted into laughter.
“Does he say these things during sex too? How’d you manage to keep your hard-on?”
“He’s feeling bold today,” Nikki’s smile, a little bit too wide to be natural, sent shivers down Vince’s spine. No present for him today, it seemed. “Vinnie, go stand by the door.”
“Oh no, don’t send him off!” Holmes protested. “He’s delightful. I’m so tired of fake bitches lying to wring more money out of you, so he’s like a sip of fresh water in the middle of a sea. Let him sit with us.”
“As you wish,” Nikki nodded and lightly pushed Vince towards another chair. Vince sat down, rubbing his arm where traces of Nikki’s nails were growing redder. “I ain’t charging for looking.”
“You should,” Holmes said dreamily. “You’d earn much more than whatever you’re doing now. Though this scar does spoil the impression.”
“Not when you’re its creator,” Nikki grinned. “I’d say it makes it even better. Your own mark of sorts.”
“Don’t tell me you disfigured him on purpose. Though, knowing you, sick motherfucker…”
“We fought,” Vince intervened, gripping the chair seat so strongly his knuckles went white.
“Yeah, we did,” Nikki tilted his head condescendingly. “If you can even call that ten-second encounter a fight. But he tried, at least. Which is why he’s here and not with the rest of his crew.”
“So you decided to reward his bravery by making him your sex slave.” Holmes smirked. “Clever. Hey, Vinnie, you ever feel the urge to slit this guy’s throat in his sleep? Because if I were you, I would.”
“Get him out of the room, and I’ll answer honestly,” Vince said. He surely wasn’t getting any presents now, so there was no need to keep up appearances anymore, but there still was no guarantee he’d get an opportunity to escape. What if he went all rogue only to later face Nikki’s wrath?
“He does, and I know that, and he knows that I know that,” Nikki said in an unexpectedly laid-back tone, which was more alarming than comforting. How twisted a person had to be to take something like that in stride? “We still have to get used to each other, y’know?”
“Of course, relationships require work,” Holmes nodded. “Well, I wish you the best of luck – although you’re already one lucky son of a bitch, Sixx. Can’t say the same about Vinnie, though. If you ever think to dump him, doll, my doors are always open for ya.”
“That’s, fortunately, not up to him to decide,” Nikki said, rising from his chair. “Well, I won’t take any more of your precious time, mate. You still serious about drinks?”
“Absolutely. Bring Vinnie with ya, I’d love to buy him a drink.” Holmes also got up, but lingered at his desk. “Now, you amused me big time today, folks. I think Vinnie earned you a little more than we originally agreed. I know you brought him here for that reason only, you sleazy bastard trying to rip off your friends. You don’t deserve it, but he does. Now, just sign here and here…”
After the chill of the slaver’s office the heat outside enveloped Vince like a warm blanket. The thought that there might still be a present on the horizon brought him some relief, but not nearly enough to overshadow the disgust and humiliation at all said and done to him today. The ogling, the dehumanization, the groping stuck to his skin, smeared all over his body like grease, slimy, foul, nauseating.
He really needed a bath.
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koexchange · 9 months
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erm this is on my ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/49051921
or read below :333
a/n: this was a req on my ao3 :3
word count: 631
Witchcraft was your specialty. Groundskeeping was your profession.
It paid the bills. Took up free time. Made you forget about your loneliness.
You had never been much of a romantic. Which is to say, you were perpetually single.
That never bothered you though. You found comfort in casting spells. It made getting through life easier.
It was probably the reason you were the only cemetery keeper. And definitely the reason your pay was a thousand bucks an hour.
Sorcery made your life a living heaven! Nearly anything you wanted, at your fingertips.
But of course, there were rules to spell casting.
No making people fall in or out of love, no time travel, no clone making, no reviving the dead, blah blah blah.
But where's the fun in playing fair?
On the fortune morning of November 8th, you had a 3am shift.
As you stomped over the old dead people, you saw an abnormally large grave.
One that looked like it could fit two people.
Catching your interest, it started to glow an eerie blue. You waltzed over to the dirt patch, reading the headstone.
"Leo and Vincent Caruso." It called to you. Literally. Called.
Perhaps your enchanted headphones were acting up again. How the fuck did the headstone just speak?
Standing no less than 5 feet away from it, you begin to hear more voices. What fun.
Then you remember it. The dud spell you cast yesterday, on your day off. 'The revival of the Two of Hearts.'
You had to burn a perfectly good deck of cards.
Sure, you didn't actually think a resurrection spell would work, it is forbidden after all.
But the two corpses crawling out of the earth are living- sorry, undead proof. It worked.
The only consequence for summoning the undead is the unlikely possibility of them haunting you. You know, eternally. 'Till you die.
Sounds fun.
The voices were bickering, over what? That was beyond you.
Standing directly on the old grave, shovel in hand, you start digging. Until you're yelled at.
"Hey! Who's banging on our roof?!"
"Calm down, Leo. I'll check it out."
Uh, hell no.
You would have ran, but you didn't have any time to before a ghost-like figure was sprouting its head up.
"Oh. Someone's here."
"What? Tell me it's not the groundskeeper.
The second 'person' joins their roomie above ground.
You're mumbling the words, "Yeah, I'm out." before you can stop yourself.
"Holy shit! You can see us?" The second head speaks again.
"You know what, I wish I couldn't." You start walking back to your car, done with this nightmare.
"No- wait come back!" "We have a visitor, Vince! We should welcome them!"
"Welcome? Why would I want to stay with you undead strangers?" You stop in your tracks, instantly failing at trying to ignore them.
Showing his full body, 'Leo' calls, "We aren't that bad! Promise!"
There's no less than an hour left on your shift.
What's hanging out with some old-ass ghosts' gonna hurt?
Both men stand on your earthly level, looking a bit too excited to meet you.
"It's been forever since we've had company!" That explains it.
"We were revived yesterday, Leo."
"Fuck you."
You sense a strange feeling of peace running through your body as you listen to their banter.
"You're welcome for that, by the way." You tip off your witch hat.
"Huh? Welcome for what?" Leo asks.
"Oh, I cast a resurrection spell, and it partially revived you old hags."
"Old hags?"
"Shut up." You all laugh, comfortably. "But yeah, I'm a witch. Not really sure how you missed that, Vince." You gesture to your foot-long hat.
He scoffs. "It's Vincent to you."
"Whatever you say, Vince."
Leo, feeling left out, yells, "I'd say we're all gonna get along great!"
a/n: i feel like this fell apart at the end but this was such a silly req tysm bro
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stephanie-love · 2 years
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So, I'm sure you guys don't know this but, the wind blow a tree on our new house. Did some damage to the front, the flagpole, the back fence, and the pergola. So it's been a bit hectic lately with that, as well as a whole bunch of other things.
Anyway, the night of the tree incident, we called a 24 hour tree removal company. They responded fairly quickly. It was a man, close to the same age as my husband (49yrs). He was a very heavy set man with a large belly, (nothing like my husband) but coincidentally he had the same name as my husband.
This got me very wet.
My husband's name isn't very common, but I do hear it in the movies every once in awhile. I've also never met anyone else that shared his name.
Anyways, another man sharing my husband's name just made me crazy wet. I don't know why, it just did.
( If you have any ideas as to why, please let me know.)
  The man quoted us a price for the job and got to work.
Another guy showed up to help, and later I found out it was his son.
Personally I didn't even take notice of his helper, my focus was on the man. My panties where becoming wetter by the second, as I watched this man, same name as my husband, in a bucket truck, and a chainsaw.
My husband could definitely tell I was into this guy, and suggested I put on something more sluty.
He didn't have to ask me twice.
I rushed to our room and changed into my smallest skirt and my smallest top.
My husband watched as he saw the excitement in me.
Throughout the night the man and his son worked cutting down the tree.
I watched from outside for the most part, with him only focusing on the work at hand.
Several times I watched him from the security cameras, wondering what was beneath that large belly of his.
Later that night he came inside to explain the details of the job, and take payment.
He was speaking to my husband, but staring at me the intire time. He lost his concentration when I started to lift my skirt up little by little, exposing my tiny g-string panties.
The man said he'd take partial payment now, and the rest when he comes back to remove the aftermath.
That's when my husband left us alone, while he went to get cash from the other room.
  The man continued to stare at me as I waited to see if he was going to make a move.
I slightly nodded, then licked my lips, encouraging him and giving him permission.
Then with a quiet sigh he reached out and felt me, his fingers grazing my knee and working their way up my thigh to my quivering cunt. I wasted no time in unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants.
I leaned down and put my lips around his dick and enthusiastically started sucking and spitting to get him as sloppy as possible.
After only a few seconds he was already getting close to the edge.
  I then swallowed every jet of cum he pump into my throat.
He quickly buckled his pants, as though he was scared my husband was going to catch us on his return. Little did he know that this is the norm for us, and either hubby was watching us the whole time or he was at least listening to us.
After the man was all buckled and zipped, my husband returned with the money.
The man very nervously said that he would write the invoice for a thousand dollars higher, so we wouldn't have to pay the insurance deductible out of pocket.
So that was nice of him, lol.
Once the man and his son left, there I was standing infront of my husband, my skirt around my waist, my panties soaking wet, and with leftover semen swimming around my mouth.
Hubby asked me "how was it?"
Where ass I replied "come taste for yourself".
My husband ended up fucking me senseless that night.
Fast forward to yesterday, I left work early to drive my mom to a doctor's appointment, then rushed home in hopes of finding the man and his son.
Unfortunately the man had dropped off a guy to do the clean up.
I say unfortunately because even though I was ready to suck and fuck whoever was there, the guy was either on some heavy drugs or mentally disturbed in some way.
So...as you can tell , not all my adventures have a great ending. 🤷‍♀️
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malachiexists13 · 2 years
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Spoilers for Kenshin's route 15
I don't have any screenshots this time around so.. Lets do an actual chapter summary, yeah? I apologize if I seem a little incoherent at some parts, I have a bad tendency to skip over words when I'm writing. (Aka my asshole of a brain convinces me I already wrote it when I fucking didn't and I proofread as I go instead of proofreading after like psychopath.) I also had to go do blood tests yesterday and all I've had since is a mini chocolate bar and some water after sleeping for 8 hours, so I am really out of it. Let's get into it!
Part 2 of Chapter 8 basically starts out with confirming that yes, Mai and Kenshin did have sex. Mai really did spread her legs for a man several minutes after he told her that he loved her. Kenshin once again reminds Mai that he is never going to let go of her. And Mai describes his love as possessive, but pure..
I personally would not call Kenshin's love like that. Possessive, yes 100%. But pure? I think we have different definitions of pure, Mai. I think genuine is a more accurate description. And I mean that as in, Kenshin does really love Mai for who she is. I did have a comparison to show how Kenshin's possessiveness isn't as bad as some can be, but I realized that I'd rather not share right now that I'm aware this certain pairing exists.
Afterwards, Kenshin and Mai get dressed and then head out on a walk together with Kenshin promising to tell her why he pushed women away as a sign of trust. Kenshin explains that when he was 14, he was in love with a girl named Isehime, a daughter of a defeated warrior or something idk. At the time, he barely held any power in his clan and they believed Isehime would hold Kenshin back, so his clan sent her away to force her to become a nun. Shortly after she took her vow, Isehime took her own life.
Kenshin believed that he may as well have been the one to kill her. Which is why he believes he's cursed, it's why he didn't want to let himself love Mai. Mai reassures him that everything will be okay, and then she decides to tell him that she's from 500 years into the future. Kenshin doesn't mind the fact that it took her this long to tell him (bitch, its been 2 months, stfu-) but he is mad that Sasuke didn't say anything during the four years they'd known each other.
After some funny and silly banter between the two, Kenshin holds a feast that night and chooses to announce his relationship with Mai. And which the chapter ends.
Kenshin's route has been very interesting so far! Definitely becoming one of my favorites. I find it amusing how when I first started, some people were giving me warnings but its honestly not as bad as I thought. I know I complained about Mitsuhide's sudden yandere behavior in his romantic end, but thats because being yandere doesn't really suit Mitsuhide in my opinion. It works for Kenshin, it makes sense there. I only like yandere characters if it fits their personality and makes sense.
Being yandere does fit the whole "traitor" persona Mitsuhide puts on, but it doesn't fit who he really is. Thats why I had a problem with his sudden change in behavior. But so far, the only issues I've had with Kenshin's route is the fact they have sex in chapter 8. But thats because I'm asexual and partially sex repulsed, Im also used to them not doing anything til the ending. At least, thats how it happened in Mitsuhide's endings. I cant say anything about Hideyoshi tho because all I remember from his route is being sister-zoned and then him fucking Mai in a field tent. Cant remember which chapter that happened in.
So far, I would recommend Kenshin's route. Gives really good insight to his character (obviously) and its great if you hate Nobunaga like me :)
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Note
Sorry for the long ask in your inbox!
So like, I've been on the fence about accepting that what I experience in my day to day is certainly SIMILAR to what people with OSDD experience. I went through a LOT of tramua growing up (the worst of it was probably from age 5-8, but it never really stopped) and I've always had a very fragmented sense of self and disconnection with my memories, like I know what happened, but only because someone told me that's what happened. I have no actual memory of it beyond sometimes the feelings but usually NOT the feelings, but I'll have a weirdly detailed account of OTHER events that happened during that time but I won't be able to say for SURE when it happened and then on other days, "I'll" (quotations because I suspect this was another alter?) have a completely different set of memories that cut out parts that I had perfect recollection of the day before; and it's not just memories that this happens with, from day to day, I have different handwriting, internal voice, personality, voice patterns, hobbies, reactions to stressors, skills, coping mechanisms, etc and I am fully aware that I'm definitely not whoever I was yesterday but it doesn't go much further than that usually. Today was... different. I woke up with this strange sense of clarity about being a system and was actually able to say that I probably have four or so alters, at least? I definitely don't experience a ton of amnesia between switches, but that might be because whoever I am never actually leaves the front because sometimes someone will tell me that I did something and I'll be like "bro I did NOT do that but okay" and sometimes I will have internal arguments in my head about like, what I should be doing right now and the other voices always talk in a different font than I do, if that makes sense. Does this like, seem system adjacent to you? I definitely have a dissociative disorder but I'm not sure if it's... enough to qualify.
Hi, I’d like to remind you that I am not a mental health professional, and even if I were, I’m still a stranger on the internet who doesn’t know you/your life. I cannot diagnose you, or tell you whether you’re a system or not. And to be honest, what I think or say doesn’t matter. I’m professionally diagnosed at this point and I still get doubts and denial sometimes because it’s a part of the disorder.
But something that has helped and continues to help me is, even if you’re not sure you have DID/OSDD, you’re having symptoms of something, and you deserve resources to help you cope and treat whatever’s going on. If resources for people with DID help you, you can use them. If something comes along that better explains your symptoms, you can look into that, but otherwise, try not to worry too much about whether you’re “enough to qualify”, partially because how disorders present can vary from person to person, and because, in the end, I don’t think it matters all that much.
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justepilepsy · 2 years
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Hello, fairly new diagnosed epileptic here. Seem to have complex partial seizure as well as simple focal, which are essentially auras, right?
I think I had seizure clusters yesterday?? I had two seizures within a 24-hr period. I am downright exhausted today. Trying to take it easy but I also have so much to do as I recently moved and my boxes finally arrived and the house is a mess. But all I want to do is lie down and sleep. I moved back in with my parents (I’m 25, just out of grad school and looking for a job) and my mom is out of town, dad is off on weekends, and he’s being understanding but also persistent about me being moderately productive. But again, I am feeling more and more fatigued as the day goes on.
I don’t have a neurologist set up yet, as my Medicaid only just kicked in. So that’s something I’ll do this week for sure, as I definitely need to speak with neuro.
But what I’m wondering is, any advice for recovery?? This is the most exhausted I’ve felt all year, and I’ve had quite a few this year - also, the last time I had two in one day was in January. I was having a zoom meeting with my internship supervisor when it happened. She ended up calling 911, I went to the hospital but there wasn’t much we could do (doctors did suspect it was a seizure based on what she described, I do too, etc.) so I was released. Shortly after, that same day, I had another one.
That day is what led me to my neurologist and eventually getting the diagnosis (we had been suspecting seizures for a while). And even on that day I don’t remember feeling so exhausted, but I also don’t think the ones in January were as bad. I’ve recently started to have more movements —autoisms is I think what they’re called, right? — and my aura lasted for quite a while yesterday before the actual seizure. (My friend and I weren’t sure if it was hunger or an aura or what, so I bought some food and right after I checked out is when I said I needed to sit down asap.)
Sorry for the ramble, I have to get back to being productive although all I want to do is nap. 😭 I’m just wondering if you have any advice for recovery. I did run four miles yesterday (I’m a runner) which was my longest distance in a while (unrelated reasons), and I was a little sore but felt good after stretching, eating, and showering. It genuinely was not until halfway in the car with my friend that I began to feel off. So anyway, the reason I’m stating this is that I’m obviously not running today. Might not be up to run tomorrow either. And I know it isn’t high priority but I want to run sooner than later and I also just want to feel like myself again 😭😭😭
Hi! Thank you so much for your message, don't worry that it got long, that is totally fine and very much understandable. You experienced a lot within a short time - it's a lot to process and figure out. Unfortunately I personally do not have many advice for recovery. I can only stress the importance of allowing yourself to actually rest. Recovering from a seizure can take up to a week or longer. Even if a relative pushes you to keep exhausting yourself - you need to explain - that you possibly risk further seizures / or other problems (accidents because you're exhausted and trip/fall etc) if you do not get the rest you need in order to recover. I hope you've got in touch with your neurologist by now, I know it's been like 3 weeks since you've sent this message. Getting on medication can decrease the amount and/or intensity of your seizures and will hopefully also make recovery less stressful/take less time. But since seizures and epilepsy are a case by case situation, it's just really important you get the medical support you need.
While I can't give you perfect "recovery advice" I think it can be helpful for you to set up a box or bag or a space on a shelf that contains everything you need in order to make recovery more bearable. This can contain e.g. painkillers (like ibuprofen), a list of songs/ a playlist that helps you relax, a comforting book, the perfectTM cushion while you rest... it can be anything that actually gets you into a situation where you do not stress as much about feeling you "miss out" or "waste time recovering". Because recovery is NEVER a waste of time. It saves you time in the long run.
Now - here is a thing I want to urge you if you can: When you next see a neurologist about your condition, MENTION that you are a runner.
For me - hyperventilation is a trigger that can increase my seizur risk. Hence I had to always severely watch my activity and not do to exhaustive sports that have a lot of deep breathing.
You need to discuss/ask with your doctor if running (the heavy breathing process that comes with it) may be a trigger for your seizures. When doing an EEG, they will probably incorporate a bit where they let you breath in and out heavily to check if the activity in your brain changes in a seizure-relevant way.
I hope you don't have to cut your hobby completely, but you may have to accept running shorter distances and going for a slower pace // taking more breaks in the process. This is however something to ask your doctor about to determine for certainty.
You may be able to pick up longer distances again, once you are on the right medication and your doctor approves of trying again.
Best wishes
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portablefrailty · 1 year
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The Suggestion of Impropriety
https://www.yahoo.com/.../clarence-thomas-problems...
The standard defense of Clarence Thomas so far has been that he's a man of notorious inflexibility with a set of deeply held convictions over whose mind no one has any sway. It's a brilliant cover story because it happens to be true. Thomas is notorious for going years on end without asking any questions of litigants before the bench. He flaunts his indifference to all reasoning, jurisprudence and value judgments alien to his own.
He comes off as an incorruptible curmudgeon.
A simplistic view of corruption takes in only the flagrant and obvious: judges with no scruples who will deliver a verdict for the right price. Since Clarence Thomas doesn't change his mind for anyone, how could he be for sale? By that definition, Thomas probably isn't corrupt and Harlan Crowe is at least partially telling the truth when he explains his gifts to Thomas as tokens of esteem to a dear friend. They are friends: a pair of deeply committed conservatives who share a love duck hunting and the vocal stylings of Barry Manilow. Crowe doesn't have to bribe Thomas to see things from his point of view because their views already overlap. 
However, between the lines of this story are intimations of a more subtle form of venality. First you have Thomas' past gift disclosures and inquiries on the propriety of receiving them. These suggest at some point he knew on some level that his conduct might be a breach of the public trust. Eventually, it seems, his cronies helped Thomas rationalize his behavior to himself, after which point he seems to have given it no further thought and for a while I think it went on like that for years: Thomas made rulings that benefited his good friends but since they were rulings he would have made anyway, the was no quid pro quo and the gifts were merely tokens of esteem and admiration. 
Such behavior alone is still morally problematic, if not corrupt. First, it reflects poorly on the court. Second, it could have predisposed Thomas (who is one of the "poorest" justices on the Supreme Court) to become dependent on his friends' largesse. Over time, this could have made Thomas amenable to more overtly corrupt arrangements that didn't involve selling his vote but nevertheless tilted the judicial review process in favor of conservative litigants. 
If Thomas did eventually make such a transition, the midwife of this metamorphosis was almost certainly his wife. Shared values brought the two together comparatively late in life but ever since they've been a scorching power couple. Ginni Thomas is a hardcore conservative, however she differs from her husband in that she seems to be a truly machiavellian, ends justify the means sort of creature while her husband, as a lifelong jurist, retains a residual respect for facts, norms and legal niceties. For example, Thomas, like the rest of the Supreme Court's conservative wing voted against every bid by Trump's legal team to stay in power after losing the 2020 election. Ginni, meanwhile, an insider who knew that neither the facts nor the law were on Trump's side, encouraged and may even have helped orchestrate the January 6th insurrection. Clarence probably wanted Trump to retain power but knew his claims to do so had no plausible legal foundation. On the other hand, like a real-life dragon queen, Ginni Thomas is willing to burn down this world to get the one she wants.
Yesterday's revelation that Ginni Thomas has been receiving off the books "consulting fees" begs the question of what kind of professional advice she's been giving to clients appearing before the high court. I think she's telling the truth when she says she has never tried to change her husband's mind about a legal principle--again, no one can bend that spoon. But she easily could be telegraphing her husband's views and perhaps the consensus attitude of the conservative wing to her clients. 
For a generation now Republican presidents have chosen supreme court nominees vetted and approved by conservative non-profits for their ideological bent and constitutional originalism. These are judges who will readily rule in line with the views of the Republican party so long as they can work out a legalistic formula that couches their covert activism as some rare species of originalism. Someone with inside knowledge of the court’s thought process--like Ginni Thomas--could make serious bank coaching conservative entities on which cases and legal arguments would be received most favorably by the majority. Such a back channel would also put liberal and progressive litigants at a deep and permanent disadvantage. 
This is all admittedly mere speculation on my part and would be almost impossible to prove even if it were true. Thomas could so easily convey his mindset to his wife by subtle, indirect means. He could always speak in the coded language that all spouses share or "think out loud" or leave his notes lying around. Ginni, meanwhile, could argue that as a consultant she merely offers conjecture and strategy advice from her knowledge of her husband's beliefs and mindset. 
That said, the evidence is suggestive. Off the books, second-hand payments are shady as hell--especially for the activist wife a high court judge. Meanwhile the conservative wing has become ever more transparent in its partisan intent to the point that justices are almost overtly guiding the organizations that bring challenges before the court. In negative opinions they not only lay out why they voted against a challenge but also offer hypothetical positions to which they would be more receptive. When striking down law or precedent, they now sprinkle in references to tangential or unrelated rulings they'd love to overturn just as Alito, in his Dobbs opinion, alluded to rulings protecting birth control. They're basically soliciting cases that will allow them to remake American society in ways consistent with the views of presidents and senators who put them in power and the well-heeled donors behind both. You know, their friends.
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learningnewways · 2 years
Text
Jordan - Day 1
Yesterday was our final day in Israel, where we had a much needed sleep in, then wandered the streets before heading back to our hotel for an early night. We were hoping to visit the Temple Mount, but we decided against it after waking at 1:30am to every possible siren sounding outside, then in the morning finding out there had been a shooting on a bus at the Western Wall, which is where the entrance to the Temple Mount is! Needless to say we decided it would not be the best idea! Maybe next time...
We left our hotel this morning at 6:15am, ready to be picked up at 6:30am down the for our tour. Turns out, we’re the only ones on the tour this week... So private tour it is! We were both kind of hoping for an actual tour group, but alas, it is just two of us. We drove two hours to the border with Jordan, then had to go through the ordeal that was the border crossing! Very hard to do just us two, not many English signs and no clear directions! After an hour of border crossing, going through eight different passport checks, we finally made it to Jordan! 
Our driver Muhammad and our guide Wael were waiting for us on the other side of the border which was great. Wael talked to us about Jordan, the land, the history, the people, their relationship Israel, and more. Later in the day, Muhammad talked to me for over an hour about Jordan’s relationship with Israel, from his perspective as a Jordan Palestinian, which was super interesting and quite a different perspective from the Jewish one we’ve had for the last week in Israel. Too much to explain on the blog, but basically, it’s super complicated and tense!
Jerash was our first site for the day and it was so impressive! It was built in the 2nd century AD by the Romans. It was a huuuuuuge site, bigger than any we went to in Israel and so much more intact. In Israel, some of the sites were partially original and partially reconstructed, whereas here the sites were mainly original. Wow! We saw the hippodrome, the theatre, the main street, the gates and more. Everything was so large! See if you can spot me in some of the photos, I look tiny compared to the giant structures. Impressive that they are in such good condition after nearly 2,000 years. The mosaics were also mostly intact which was impressive too. 
The reason everything was in such good condition is because there was a massive earthquake in 749 in the region that destroyed parts of the city, which people then abandoned and it laid under sand and dirt for many years, until it was excavated in the 1960’s. They call Jerash the ‘Pompeii of the Middle East’. Walking the old streets lined with pillars and seeing the theatres made me think this must be what Rome and Athens is like. Definitely had more ‘wow’ factor than the similar sites in Israel. The modern day city of Jerash is literally just across the road from the excavated site, so it was interesting to be walking through Jerash while hearing the Muslim call to prayer!
We then went to Mt Nebo which is where Moses saw the view of the Promised Land, before he died on the mountain. It was a hazy day, so we couldn’t see the view all that well, but it was still special being where Moses was and thinking about him viewing the Promised Land with his own eyes after all those years in the desert!
Our final stop was Madaba, where there is a huge mosaic map of the Middle East in the floor of a church. The mosaic was created in the 6th century AD and used around two million stones. Wow! Only parts of it remain, but it was still super cool. Mosaics are a big thing over here. They still make and sell them around Jordan a lot.
And that was our day! We then drove the three hours to Petra where we are now at our hotel. Lots of driving today, the most on our whole trip so far. I’m pretty tired and have a headache, so no long blog today for a change. Here’s hoping we don’t faint in the heat at Petra tomorrow!
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dragon-heisters · 2 years
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Session 8 May 28 2022
Pfenig will be late, and Giles is conquering Plymouth this week; perhaps it’s fighting back.
We have all joined factions now, and we all get a goodie-bag! Each of us gets a faction loot satchel which will magically fill with reward items as and when we complete quests for our various factions. Vervain gets a Flail of Retribution! (Moon-Touched Flail)
We send word to the various contacts to make connections and help us set up Trollskull Manor as a working tavern. We will have a meeting with someone called Goffa Mackadin. She’s a roofer and carpenter. We spend the night in the manor to save money, and Nuri spends the night in his personal pocket spa. It is autumn here, so it’s wet and windy - there is a windstorm battering the manor. Vervain and Pfenig swear they can hear the screams of ghostly children. Lovely.
We awake early the next morning. So. Jodd? What should we do? He doesn’t seem malevolent. He just really likes growing carrots in shit. And mushrooms, possibly by accident. Could we sell those…?
Vervain looks him over (from a distance). He’s very thin, and his hygiene is terrible, but there’s nothing physically wrong with him. They think he’s suffering from some sort of PTSD. Perhaps he could be ‘domesticated’. Jodd is reluctant to leave East Privy House, but over time Vervain thinks they can bring him back. Perhaps over downtime.
We notice he seems jumpy with the door open; is he looking out for something? Pfenig asks, but can’t get much sense out of him. We leave him some non-shit-carrot food and a bottle of rescue remedy, but otherwise leave him to his own devices for now.
On to our meeting with Goffa. As we leave, we hear the scraping of stone from above - a brick comes hurtling towards us from the roof! We all make DEX saves - Vervain and Pfenig both take 4 bludgeoning damage. Pfenig tries to calculate the trajectory from the lump on his head. Surprisingly, that technique seems to work. He can’t see anyone, but the stone definitely came from the turret.
We brush the bricks in through the door, and carry on with our day. We see a woman holding a sledge hammer:
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She has a good firm handshake, and congratulates us on our fine property. We show her around the outside of it and pointing out damage, and the brick that fell from the roof. Vervain and Hazel both spot a little posse of halflings - they seem to be up to no good, and are peering in through our windows as they creep around the back of the Manor.
Vervain shouts at them - they peg it, and both Hazel and Vervain utterly fail at giving chase.
We take Goffa inside, and she makes notes. Does the property have a cellar? Can one of us show her down there? Nuri volunteers. She gets a bit claustrophobic, she explains, so she doesn’t want us all crowding down there.
It is now partially flooded down there, Nuri is not pleased to find out. The air is stale and the place is leaking with a steady stream of water. They go to leave, but the door slams shut on them!
Nuri hears scurrying, gnawing sounds. The rest of us hear the hatch slam - Pfenig tries to open it, assisted by Vervain. It seems to be being held shut, and even with a 17 the two of them can’t pull it open.
Goffa demands to know what’s going on. Once she's established that Nuri seems as surprised by this as she is. she offers to help open the hatch. Nuri has Produced Flame (possibly as a reflex). He explains that it might be our ghost. He tries to commune with it.
“Oh Great Spirit… Do you wish to negotiate the terms of your contract?” No response.
Could it be the mouse? Lord Scratch, and his family? Nuri investigates the cellar while Goffa tries to open the hatch, with no success. Nuri spots beady black eyes swimming around - little rats, in the flooded cellar.
Pfenig wants to call on Lord Scratch to see if he can shed any light. He goes back to the room where he found him yesterday. He sees two little chairs and a little table and a tiny jug on it. He sees Lord Scratch in his wife packing up the picnic they’ve been enjoying, saying ‘quickly quickly! Inside! It stirs!’
Pfenig manages to stop them before they disappear. He will be taking shelter, they ask him, yes? They explain about the ghost; he’s not bad, he doesn’t mean any harm but sometimes he gets... agitated.
Also, it’s not the ghost we need to worry about.
... Um...? Could he very quickly explain a bit more about that?
It’s the Dark Lady we’ve got to be careful of. Huh. So, out of interest, Pfenig asks, if Lord Scratch were his size, where would he hide? Lord Scratch advises that he sticks close to his friends. He disappears with his wife, and Pfenig hears a little latch slide into place on the other side of the tiny adorable door. He makes a Perception check at the request of the DM; and rolls an 8. DM: “Never mind!”
He comes back down to the taproom, where Hazel is handing Vervain a crowbar. 17 still won’t do it. Down in the cellar, Nuri sees the rats get very agitated and the air suddenly gets very cold in there. “Hello? Are you the speaking mice?” They are not. They are forming a swarm. Nuri and Goffa roll initiative…
They defeat the rats with not much difficulty, the temperature goes back up and the trapdoor pops open. Goffa expresses surprise that the rats were so aggressive. Still, she agrees to work on the property. She gives us a quote (which has likely increased somewhat during the fight with the rats).
We go to the other guilds as well. At the end of the day we tot it all up - it will cost us 1250 gp, and it’ll take a ten-day to do the work. If we pitch in ourselves and help that might bring the cost down. We could also call on our new friends in Trollskull Alley.
We have a ten-day to either raise funds or start work on Trollskull Manor. Nuri wants to raise some funds by making potions, but needs to buy the fixin's first. He could strike a deal with Skeemo or Fala, perhaps. He opts for Skeemo, as he does alchemical stuff. Skeemo quotes 500gp; Nuri counters with an IOU.
If we pooled all our money we could come close to that amount. We could make up to 500gp profit if we do. Nuri has a go at bartering him down to 375. He rolls good, and Skeemo agrees.
Pfenig is going to do some prep work and cleaning in Trollskull Manor. He makes three checks: Dexterity, Strength and Perception. He Guides himself, and rolls good on all but Strength. He knocks 75gp off Goffa’s quote.
Hazel does some criming. She decides to rob a noble. She rolls a Thieves’ Tools check, an Investigation check and can choose between Perception and Deception. She rolls good on all but Stealth, ironically. She comes back empty handed, but hasn’t been caught. She did lose the 25gp it took to set up the job, however. She has three days left of her week, so she slinks back looking sheepish helps around the tavern. She makes three more checks like Pfenig’s, and doesn’t roll very well. It does take some gold off the quote, however.
Vervain decides to help in the tavern as well. They don’t roll great either, but take off some more gold.
Nuri makes some potions, so he rolls to see how good they are on a scale of good to ribena-with-iron-filings-in-it. He decides to gamble and make one roll with his Alchemist’s Supplies for all 20 potions. He gets a 21, the jammy bastard. He can now charge more for them, because they’re Masterwork level. (We're never going to hear the end of this.)
Between us, we have managed to lower the total to fix up the tavern by 200gp. Woo!
In the first few days, Vervain and Pfenig are sweeping on the second floor in the room next to the one with the rotting floorboards. Oh no, the DM moves us to a map!
We hear something in the walls - feet, claws, and frenzied squeaking. The wall bows out and a swarm of rats bursts out of it. Perhaps we need to invest in some rat-crushing sticks.
They swarm up Vervain’s legs, but they swat them off. Pfenig casts Shiilsflgkjsdgldjfgh on the broom he’s holding and sets about the rats. “Shoo!”
They have a go at Pfenig’s legs next, and hit him for 3 damage. He hits them with his broom again and misses. Vervains splats them against the wall with their flail, but puts another hole in the wall which might add to Goffa's price if she notices it. Together though, Pfenig and Vervain manage to hide the extra damage.
Nuri returns from the Hall of the Order that evening, and Hazel from her shenanigans. We all make Perception checks; We hear voices that sound like children coming from outside. Hazel and Vervain can make out words - the voices are daring each other to go in, from just outside the front door. It’s haunted, they’re telling each other. Vervain starts looking for a white sheet, but Nuri beats them to it and casts Minor Image of a ghost just inside the front door.
Pfenig looks out the window and sees Nat, Jenks and Squiddly:
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Jenks eventually loses the argument and is pushed in by the other two - and screams when he sees Nuri’s ghost. All three scatter.
After a while, they come creeping back. “If it’s a ghost we should poke it with a stick!” "You can't poke ghosts with a stick, dummy, that's dead bodies!"
Pfenig casts Thaumaturgy and makes the ground shake a little bit; they scatter again.
On about the fourth day, Pfenig and Vervain are cleaning the taproom. We notice, written in the dust on the bar, the words: “Leave this place”. Pfenig writes back, “But it’s nice!”
We’ve been hearing whimpers from East Privy House. Every time Vervain checks on him he’s fine, but he whimpers whenever something spooky happens.
On the 7th day Hazel appears back looking sheepish after her failed heist. We all start on the cleaning on the second floor, and make dexterity saving throws. Huh?
The air goes cold, and Jodd starts whimpering from his bathroom. Pfenig and Hazel jump aside, but Vervain is slammed with some sort of force down through the floorboards which break, and they plummet through to the floor below taking 3 damage. The ceiling gapes above them like a gaping maw, and we all hear, “Leave this place!”
“Don’t MAKE me Turn Undead!” Vervain shouts, and then hears a knock on the door. At their shout, the effects seem to die down.
Tally is at the door, asking if we’re here. He comes in and helps Vervain up. Did something happen? We explain what we just heard. It’s funny, that’s exactly what he came to talk to us about.
He overheard the urchins outside yesterday talking about the ghost and how they 'saw it with their own eyes'. He assumes we’ve heard the story about Lif?
Back when this place was a functioning tavern, there was a half elf who used to work here. Tally knew him. He arrived as a refugee child, separated from his parents. The owner of this place found him and took pity on him and gave him a job, working his way up to barkeep. He used to talk to Tally, a fellow orphan. Rumour has it that he’s our ghost. How did he die, we ask Tally?
There were rumours of suicide, but the official cause was Gangrel’s Fever (I think?), which causes high fevers. If the ghost is giving us trouble, Tally says he might have a solution. After Lif died, Tally found out that his family have a crypt in the city. One of the tombs has a locket containing portraits of both Lif’s parents. If we retrieve it, it might help Lif remember who he is and maybe he'll calm down.
Vervain asks if Tally knows anything about the Dark Lady; Tally shakes his head, but Vervain isn’t convinced he’s being completely honest.
The message in the dust on the bar was written as if the writer was behind the bar; it told us to leave, but we have been told that Lif is mischievous at worst, not malevolent. We don’t think he’s the one throwing bricks or pulling us through floors. Maybe Lif is trying to protect us from the Dark Lady, Hazel suggests? Hmm.
We all agree it would be a good idea to go and get this locket for him, Dark Lady or no. We wait for Nuri to return from his master potion-crafting session, and head to the City of the Dead. It’s a large mausoleum, Tally draws us a map.
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We walk through the City of the Dead, and get to the poorer area; it’s a large mausoleum though, so we think Lif’s family must have been quite large.
Vervain reaches the door and pushes it open (we are in initiative). They share their Darkvision ability with their compatriots, using their Eyes of Night ability.
Pfenig goes ahead and down some steps to a door at the bottom. Nuri casts Protection from Evil and Good on him. Hazel makes an Investigation check; an 18. There are four tombs in this first room - old and well maintained, but no locket. She sees a door over Nuri and Pfenig’s heads.
Vervain leans forward past Nuri, taps Pfenig on the shoulder and casts Resistance on him. The door in front of him is well made, but old. Wood and iron. He tries to open it. Does he want the bad news or the worse news?
The door is locked, is the bad news. The worse news is, on the steps to his right is a grate. He hears a crack, then a hiss, and green fumes come spewing out of the grate. We all now have to make CON saves vs. the poison.
Pfenig rolls a 6 even with Resistance, and he and Nuri take 2 poison damage and are Poisoned. “Oh, I got a bad tummy!”
Vervain and Hazel take 1 poison damage and are not poisoned. Pfenig looks at the trap he’s triggered - is it a one-and-done situation? It’s hard to tell, he’s still feeling queasy. He wants to have a go at picking the lock, but has no tools. He moves back a bit.
Nuri flusters and flails. He saw Pfenig try to open the door and set off the trap, so he holds his action and says that we need someone with lock picks. If he sees anything he doesn’t like he will Flame it. Hazel elbows her way past Nuri to the door.
She investigates the trap to see if it’ll go off again if she tries the door - the DM lets her do this as a bonus action. There is a hinged door that looks like a grate - inside that is a vial of green liquid. If she can re-seal the vial, or pick it up and throw it, she can do that for her action. If we don’t do anything, it will continue to produce this poisonous gas until it is spent.
She grabs the bottle and flings it up the stairs toward the outer door. a 16 is good enough - it sails over Nuri and Pfenig’s heads and out the door. The smoke dissipates. Vervain casts Resistance on Hazel now, as she will be opening the door next turn. Pfenig casts Lesser Restoration on Nuri, curing his poison damage. He makes his CON save at the end of his turn, and perks right up. He casts Shillsdgjkhsdfklsjhghh, and all is well with the world.
Nuri Produces a Flame, in readiness for later, and holds it up as a source of light even though none of us need it. (Vervain’s new flail is glowing and producing some light as well.)
Hazel tries to unlock the door. She hears a click and the door opens.
DM: "Here is what happens - " Hazel: “Nooo!”) The door now stands between her and the other lout so he can’t hit her. Standing in front of her is a ruffian - she makes a History check at Advantage, as a Ne’er-do-well herself. He’s wearing a green sash with six white hands - it marks him as a member of the Six Hands gang. Predominantly smugglers, they usually work out of the Docks Ward. He shoots her, but misses.
The other lout shuts the door, goes around it, opens it again, and attempts to poke Hazel in the pudding. He misses.
Vervain summons their Spiritual Weapon, right above the first ruffian’s head. They decide, due to the placement, to make it an anvil. It drops on the ruffian, and gets a how-de-do-dis. They are very pleased, and cast Resistance on Nuri for their action since there’s not much else they can do and it’s a cantrip.
Pfenig does something called Symbiotic Entity:
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DM: “Pfenig, you’re gross.”
We find ourselves stuck in a queue; DM rules that since we’re on stairs, we can fire ranged weapons over people’s heads if they’re in front of us.
Nuri does Mind Sliver on the nearest lout. Unfortunately he makes the save.
Hazel is asked to make a Perception check but rolls low. DM, cheerfully: “Never mind!”
A lout stumbles close to Pfenig, and quote, “feels real bad”, taking 5 necrotic damage from his spores.
Hazel finds herself with a scimitar lodged in her soft belly. “Eowh!” She stabs her opponent with her rapier and gets a how de do dis. “I stab him in the eye, that’s how.” She moves forward to ease the queue, and immediately gets shot by two hiding ruffians. “Well, I’m fine, so…” She slithers away and hides.
We hear an alarm sound from deeper in the crypt; Hazel has stumbled over a tripwire in her haste to hide.
Vervain steps forward and sees two louts taking something out of a sarcophagus; the Cleric in them can’t let that slide, so they cast Guiding Bolt and accidentally obliterate one of them in one shot. They use their Spiritual Weapon anvil to flail ineffectually at another lout, and then move forward to avoid recreating the bottleneck further in.
Pfenig casts Chill Touch on another lout, and hits for 2 necrotic damage. A ruffian shoots Vervain with a nat20, doing 9 damage. Another shoots them doing another 9 piercing. Another shoots at Pfenig and misses, and another attacks him from behind - but has to make a CON save versus his spores.
Nuri Fire Bolt’s one of them, who didn’t like it at all. Nuri holds out a potion as a bonus action to Vervain to take, should they want to use it.
Hazel shoots, quote, “This green bitch here”. How de do dis? “She explodes!”
Vervain accepts and slams Nuri’s potion, and uses Twilight Sanctuary:
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Pfenig does a very polite murder of a ruffian with his Shillsdfgkhsdkgjsdglhh. “‘Scuse me… If you wouldn’t mind awfully…” He makes a Perception check - dirty 20. He sees Lif’s locket, on top of one of the tombs. He swipes it! Yay! He can’t have any temporary hit points from Vervain, however, as he already has some from his spore thing. Vervain: “I see how it is.”
A green one shoots at Nuri and misses. He gives her the finger. Another one shoots at him, and hits. Nuri takes 9 piercing damage, and the ruffian gets a Hellish Rebuke in the face. How de do dis? “He is immolated. He will boil away to ash, and the last things to drop are his charred eyes. No-one likes to see it. It isn’t good for anyone.”
Another one shoots him with a 21, and he takes another 7 damage. His Protection from Evil and Good drops from Pfenig. It’s Nuri’s turn. He requests a Dex save from one of the ruffians, and does Burning Hands on her. She makes the the save and takes half damage. He accepts four temporary HP from Vervain. "Unless you've already got some better ones..."
Hazel wants to hide, lean around a corner and shoot. She gets a how de do dis!
Vervain finds Nuri and casts Cure Wounds on him at second level; Nuri is suspicious and a little bit scared of them, especially after all the Spiritual Weapons and the Guiding Bolt explosions. Vervain: “Eight hit points back. And then I hit him with my anvil!”
The last gang member jumps into the open sarcophagus at the far end of the crypt and disappears. Nuri moves forward to see where she went and hears “the comforting twang of a tripped wire.”
From the ceiling we hear a snapping noise, and a big semi circular blade drops toward him (he mostly dodges it and takes half damage) and starts swinging between him and Pfenig. Nuri continues on down toward where the lout disappeared.
Hazel takes a look at the pendulum trap, and sees it’s hanging by a rope; if she were to sever that rope she could disarm the trap. She has a go at shooting it. 12 is good enough. It frays and snaps, and the blade drops to the floor. She turns to the rest of us. “Come on you bellends, let’s go.”
Forward march!
The DM takes us out of initiative, and we set about corpse-squatting. There is a distinct lack of valuables on these crime-workers. Suspicious. We look in the sarcophagus; there is a ladder leading down into a hole in the bottom. From the stink, it leads to the sewers. We hear a rumbling voice - Pfenig recognises it as being enhanced with Thaumaturgy.
“Whoever’s out there, are you open to parlay?”
Pfenig replies, also with Thaumaturgy, “… Yeah, alright.”
Two goliaths appear, with a human between them. Nuri can feel the magical energy coming off her. She will go back to her HQ and tell her leaders this location has been burned, if we will let them leave.
Yeah but what were you doing here?
This location is property of the Six Hands gang, or was, before we showed up. They will leave and let us investigate, if we leave.
… Alright then, fine. They go back down the sarcophagus; we hear a huge bang. They have exploded the tunnel and collapsed it.
The others go ahead and loot some graves; Vervain declines, but will turn a blind eye to the thieving of the others. Nuri rushes ahead gleefully, and has to be stopped by Hazel who wants to check for traps first. She finds a wire on one of the two chests in the room. She tries to disarm the one but sets it off by accident. She rolls out of the way as a metal spike coated in something springs out. It remains, and the trap is spent. It looks like just clothes inside, but underneath she finds a box with five vials of white powder. She takes a look at them - it’s a substance called Ziran, made by the drow from Underdark mushrooms.
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Hazel reckons Yagra could shift these. Nuri wants to cut them with baking powder first.
Vervain is still concerned about what the louts and ruffians were doing with the sarcophagus. They take a closer look and can see scuff marks around the edge. We know the Six Hands are smugglers; they are known for their use of the sewers. This seems to have been a holding area or storage space. There doesn’t seem to have been any sort of desecration of graves, though. Satisfied, they let it go.
We take the locket to Steam and Steel; our genasi friends can fix it in a week, for free. Woo! Nuri sells his Masterwork potions with a Persuasion check - with Guidance from Pfenig. He gets a natural 20! He gets 1000gp, with 500gp of that being profit. Hazel sells her skooma to Yagra for 75gp each. We now have the money to do the renovations!
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