#anyhow that's all for tonight folks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loregoddess · 3 months

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more Octo2 thoughts bc it's been a hell of a weekend for me and I need something nice to think about (shh, my weekends are on weekdays, don't ask, just know tips are better on the real weekends, and I will eventually one day not work in food and have real weekends off again hopefully); under the cut bc lategame spoilers, as usual

alskdjaskld completely forgot Throne's Ch3 Father's Route, so I did that real fast before heading to Stormhail. Apparently? I forgot? Did not pay attention? To the fact that Sebastian/Father actually is never directly stated to be Claude's son, and insofar as we know he was just born in some shitty town and had to resort to stealing to survive (and therefore wasn't raised to be a Blacksnake), and joined the Blacksnakes of his own free will after moving to the city?? So like, sure he could still be Claude's son bc *vaguely gestures at Mr. Bigtits Sexiroth and his terrible horrible fucked up MGS-scheme to not be Vide's vessel* and it could be he was only allowed into the Blacksnakes bc he was secretly Claude's son, but it's still an interesting detail that unlike 99% of the Blacksnakes, he wasn't raised by/in the organization itself.

Marietta however does seem to have been part of the Blacksnakes, which has the disconcerting implication that she's uh, related to Claude despite bearing his child later on (which I honestly wouldn't put past him, and if Throne is somehow the Cleopatra of a fucked up Fantasy Ptolemy-esque family tree, I honestly wouldn't even question it at this point, there is so much weird shit going on in her story arc).

I'm still not entirely convinced Marietta didn't pull a Hatoful by pretending to kill her child w/ Sebastian and actually killing her child with Claude (making Throne actually Sebastian's daughter, and therefore making the whole "not Vide's vessel" thing make a bit more sense, although I have a new theory cooking for that as well that doesn't require her to not be Claude's actual daughter), but the evidence is stronger for Throne being Claude's literal daughter so, anyhow, her story arc is still a very messed up MGS-esque Fantasy John Wick story. But I mean, I still have one more chapter for Throne to try and scour for information for why she isn't Vide's vessel, what's going on w/ the Blacksnakes and their superpowers, and also how exactly the legend of the prince and princess might shed light on Solistia's distant past (I mean, we know the prince was probably Claude, but the princess? Arcanette maybe? and what of the two fighting kingdoms? does the Great Wall and the lost kingdom therein have something to do w/ it?)

Ochette's Stormhail chapter was pretty straightforward. I did waste most of my money buying fancy armor and weapons though, even with Partitio's 20% discount via his follower (who is ironically Masoud). It did have some interesting timeline info though (Glacis's egg was shattered 10 years before the start of the story, around the same time Ochette was required to choose her animal companion). I'm really going to have to watch a walkthrough/playthrough of everything though and actually take notes on the various years and stuff to put together a proper timeline one of these days...

Oh, and Osvald does say the Pit of D'arqest is "just south" of Stormhail in his banter w/ Temenos, so yeah, it seems like the Infernal Castle and the Pit of D'arqest are related if not the same location. Interesting to keep in mind for when I eventually go and level grind there.

Finally pinpointed the two things about Temenos's story arc that were irking me. The first I knew, and that was that "genocide survivor joins her peoples' killers and also seeks the power that her people literally abhorred which is also the source of power for her peoples' killers to...try and destroy said killers" just does not work as a plot for me. Love the concept of Kaldena as a character, but god her arc is a mess. Writer's could have done something more interesting with her than...all that. She deserved better writing.

The second thing is, uh, the entire Stormhail chapter. I didn't really process it my first run bc Crick's death is so out of left field that I was too surprised to think about it, but the pacing for this chapter is just...weird (certain scenes could have been slightly rewritten and put into Ch2, or at least the events could have been rearranged so there weren't these awkward pauses and transitions into new scenes; I get there were trying to let Crick get enough screentime to make his death matter, but honestly the entire thing is just kinda poorly paced by my tastes).

But more so than the pacing, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT BOTH TEMENOS AND CRICK ARE INTELLIGENT ADULTS which they clearly are except for this one thing IF THEY IMMEDIATELY SPLIT UP AFTER SOMEONE TRIED TO KILL THEM ONCE? HELLO? Is this a horror movie? Are you perhaps, young teens in a mediocre slasher flick? Someone tried to KILL YOU and you decide no, it's fine, let's take a break for the night, I'm going to the inn, you can head on back to the Sacred Guard which we just established is where the killer is hiding, this is a very logical, good plan with no flaws whatsoever.

Like, listen, I don't think Crick's death was really necessary (it doesn't actually add that much to the overall narrative in my opinion, aside from shock value, and we already had Jorg getting killed bc he Maes Hughes'd himself by knowing too much, you can't...pull the same trick twice without some fancier plot setup usually), but what really irks me about it was it was entirely avoidable if the two had just gone ahead and either investigated together (confrontation with Cubaryi could have still occured, except Crick would be there), or headed to the inn together since Crick's entire thing is protecting people and someone literally just tried to kill Temenos (and then they could have investigated and the chapter could have more or less played out the same except Crick may or may not die, like they could have had him die protecting Temenos before or after the fight w/ Cubaryi, although again, I don't think his death adds more to the story than leaving him alive would have, and my general thoughts on character deaths in fiction is that they should always be absolutely necessary for the entire narrative and plot to work)

So anyhow, yeah, Temenos's Stormhail chapter is actually where his story kinda starts to feel eh to me. I wish to release an army of puppies to chew on the writers' furniture and slippers, just for the frustration. Because like, as I thought, there doesn't have to be that many changes to Temenos's story to make it work for me, the pacing and random "horror movie protagonists IQ" doesn't work for me. Or Kaldena's writing. But both those things would require just the slightest rework to make the entire narrative flow smoothly.

Anyhow, looking forward to seeing Hikari get zapped off a bridge next (I know it's supposed to be serious and dramatic, but Rai Mei literally just zapping him off the bridge is so funny to me, she really just sees him and casts Bolt of Fuck Off). I'll also be keeping an eye out for Ori since her journals indicate she should be around for this next chapter.

#''I need something nice to think about'' as that thing is Octo2 with a variety of messed up things happening in it at any given time #but man this has been a very stressful few days and unfortunately none of my issues are things that I can resolve quickly #do not want to go to work again but at the same time the distraction will be nice #even if it means dealing with less stressful but stupider and very different issues #anyhow I'm starting to think that ''women who get mostly ignored by the writers but have so much potential'' is just my thing now #like listen...Kaldena Cubaryi Marietta Petrichor Arcanette...we could have learned so much more about all of them and we didn't #which like my city now and all that #but I need to stop taking over cities bc the writers didn't want to give their weird woman side character a coherent backstory #like listen if Bigtits Sexiroth gets a clear motive and backstory (more or less) the writers should tell me what's going on w/ Marietta #I could have given Kaldena a better arc though...she really deserved a better arc...girl you could have had something better...#apparently Cubaryi was supposed to survive and get a unique postgame quest that got scrapped at some point #so at least the writers intended to expand whatever her deal was before axing that idea #mostly I just want to know more about a lot of the important background characters #anyhow that's all for tonight folks #oracle of lore

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risingroleakira · 2 years

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God i really need more people to voice chat abt critical role c3 on discord with- i am a MESS after tonights episode and the only person i talk to regularly (or, have begun to, we only met like a week or two ago) who is up to date on the show is asleep and other than that i cant ramble via typing to people like i used to because my hands have been fucked for months now and I have WAY too much enthusiasm for this show and GOD i am EMOTIONAL and SAD my emotional support NPC just died

#sucks to suck at talking to new people like ever #even all my non-critical role friends are asleep and 90% of them dont ever vc with me anyway #anyhow i need to stop typing so i probably wont talk about tonights ep much more for now #critical role #cr #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #cr3 #critrole spoilers #critrole #c3e38 #i know i had a couple people on a post a while back who at least mentioned that i can message em but i am. not good at texting new people #let alone folks who have been in the fandom much longer than i have #i might delete this post in a bit idk yet #rose.txt #god why did matt have to kill of Eshteross this episode #not that it doesnt make sense but. come on we've been through enough these past few episodes #i was looking forward to more interactions with him #let alone killed with that no-revival poison #damn it

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desertfangs · 1 year

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Picturing Armand coming up with all sorts of creative aka absolutely batshit ways to prevent Daniel from being intercepted by the Talamasca while Daniel remains completely oblivious. “Lover LOOK it’s Lestat right behind you, he’s only wearing a g-string 🫢😜” and then he’s setting all of Daniel’s mail on fire and scattering the ashes in one of his clandestine e boat rides. Or trying to pass Talamasca correspondence as high school reunion invites (“you couldn’t possibly be interested in that my love? Such silly nonsense”) before tearing them off and throwing them out and changing the topic altogether. It all pays off years later at Lestat’s concert when they bump into Jesse and Daniel is like “Tala-what? lmaoo what a funny little name”. Armand has never been more proud of himself xoxo DA 🥹

Right? Dying at the idea of Armand going "Look! Lestat in a g-string!" to distract Daniel because wow, that would work! Armand would have already gotten rid of whatever it was and Daniel would still be searching behind him, going "Where? I don't see him??"

This could be a whole sitcom, tbh. A whole montage of Armand pulling Daniel in the other direction all of a sudden when he spots a Talamasca agent or changing their plans out of the blue. "I thought you had to see this band tonight!" "I realized their brand of folk music is quite droll. Let's go to Prague." Stealing his mail every evening before he wakes up him to sift through it. I imagine even in the chase years, he might get Daniel's mail at the hotel desk and bring him the royalty check while holding back the Talamasca's letters.

Maybe Daniel finally gets one of the letters in New York, and of course because it's the Talamasca, it's impossibly vague, imploring him to come meet someone at some hotel in a week's time and only vaguely mentions their interest in his novel. So Daniel asks Armand what he thinks it is? Do they want to discuss a sequel? It's not his publisher's letterhead. Is it an agent? Someone who hopes to represent him?

Armand reads it several times, expression impassive, even though he immediately knows what it is. "It's a scam," he finally says. "These vultures target young writers. They just want a share of your royalties and they'll do nothing for you." He tosses the letter aside. Maybe Daniel wonders if he should go the the meeting anyhow, just to see, but Armand will coincidentally need them to fly somewhere very far away the night before so he can't make it. Such a shame. Oh, well, Armand was probably right.

And when they try to approach him in person, ooh boy. I know Armand has some pretty clever mental tricks and could probably scare them out of the city for reasons even they don't entirely understand. Like they're on Daniel's trail and then all of a sudden, they feel uneasy about going into the city or into a certain neighborhood. They may mention that feeling or just that they're not able to establish contact, but no one can seem to get near him and he never replies to their letters or shows up for the pre-arranged meetings, so they just assume he's not interested.

Ironically, I think Daniel would want to know all about them. I don't think he'd join them--I don't think he'd give up being with Armand for anything, and certainly not that--but I think he'd find their mission fascinating, and if he hadn't run into Armand, he would have loved working with them to investigate the paranormal. Sadly, he's also one of those people predisposed to get too close and get himself in trouble, because nothing would keep him from approaching a vampire if he knew where to find them. So he wouldn't have lasted long in the job. Although, Daniel would kill for an hour or two in their archives, even now as a vampire.

I wonder if he ever asked Lestat if his friend David could get him in there for a night to sift through what they had. No doubt Lestat was like "Sure, yeah, I'll ask" and immediately forgot and it never came up again. Ironically, I think the Talamasca would salivate over the stuff in the Night Island cellar and whatever Armand has in the depths of Trinity Gate. I'm curious if, after QotD, when they realized where Daniel had been and with whom, they tried to excavate some of their old abandoned apartments and now, somewhere in the cellar of a Talasmaca motherhouse, sits a blender stained with beet juice and quick-dry cement, a Chia pet with dead seedlings sticking out of it, and an electric toothbrush with blood all over its bristles, all in some box labeled "Armand, New York, 1980s."

Thank you for the ask, DA!!! Always happy to hear from you! I will be thinking about this all day.

#not me typing this up while i'm technically working this saturday morning #but work is slow so thanks for entertaining me #i am also editing a fic i hope to post soon that i hope you'll like #it's smutty #and silly #i like to bridge that gap #daniel molloy #armand #the talamasca #answers in the desert #armand/daniel #vampire chronicles #vc #queen of the damned #dungeon anon #devil's minion #vc headcanons #vc meta

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comfort-questing · 7 months

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fealty (ch2)

"there's a fellow outside, wants to see the new patient."

the recent flurry of activity had slowed somewhat now, and the healers dispersed to various corners of the infirmary's hushed candle-lit length. the apprentice set down the empty laundry basket and stretched out her tired shoulders, glancing up at the older woman who was sorting the fresh bandages from the linen chest.

"oh - I can do that, don't worry." having something in her hands was better fun anyway than standing uselessly about, and she slipped in to take her superior's place. "anyway, he looks a bit like a lost pup and I don't think he'll be going anywhere until we let him in - and I told him I'd ask."

"the one who helped bring the guard in, earlier tonight?" the older healer's gaze flicked to one of the curtained-off alcoves at the opposite end of the room. "you don't mean to say he's still waiting there... surely he's got better things to do now, with the festival down in the city."

"I think that was where they were," the apprentice said, carefully, and began to twist one strip of clean bandage-cloth into a tight roll, pinching the end between her fingers for steadying. "and something happened, and now they're here. he seems quite upset about it all."

"first time I've ever seen one of those lordly folk spend as many tears on the folk who bleed in their defense," said the healer, half under her breath, then louder: "well, go fetch him, if you think he'd be any comforted by it. I don't know that the poor boy in the bed there will hear or remember one way or the other."

the apprentice fumbled for a pin to fasten the bandage-roll, and thought of the young noble's tearstained face, and nodded. "all right. thanks. I'll go tell him."

outside, the young noble was still waiting, head tilted back to rest against the stonework of the wall and arms crossed to huddle into his rather inadequate velvet cloak. he blinked and startled as the apprentice came up, eyes wide with questions unasked.

"they say you can come along in. he's still asleep, but you can see him anyway."

he shadowed her on the way into the infirmary, quiet as if feeling out of his element, nodding with half-averted eyes to the healers at their work. she stood back a little once they reached the half-curtained alcove that was their destination, and nodded at him to go ahead of her.

the apprentice wouldn't have called the guard boy, herself. he was older than her, and maybe older than the young noble by a little, or else perhaps the starts of silver threads through his mousey hair had come early. but that was hard to tell, sometimes. the lines of pain at the corners of his wide mouth, the faintly gray and transparent cast of his pale skin, those made the guessing more difficult. the slow rise and fall of his chest under the blankets triggered an occasional wince and grimace even in his sleep.

"how is he?" the young noble's voice was low. he sat down in the wooden chair next to the guard's cot, hands working together, the stone in his signet ring winking dully in the candlelight.

"it's too early to say for certain."

"no, but if you - had to guess."

she didn't like watching the bright hints of desperation flicker across his face, but she did know he deserved the truth, anyway.

"the blade pierced a lung and he lost a lot of blood as well, before he came here and while the healers were patching him up. we gave him something for the pain and that's why he's asleep now. if the wound heals clean, he'll recover with rest and time. if infection sets in - "

considering and rejecting several ways to put the next bit took long enough that the young noble had, maybe, divined her intent; anyhow, his eyes left her face in the pause, and he reached out instead to touch the guard's hand laid limp on the cover.

"Valin." he spoke more quietly still, now. "I - I was such a fool. you were right, tonight, and I didn't - listen at all, and so - this is my fault. and by rights it should have been me, you know, who took the consequences - "

for a long still stretch there was nothing spoken in their little circle of silence, only the soft rasp of the guard's breathing, and the stir and motion beyond the curtains as the business of the infirmary went on. but by and by the guard's long fingers twitched, as if in delayed response, and though his eyes were still closed his lips moved to shape unheard words. the effort of speaking made him cough, sharply, and give a low moan of pain quickly bitten back.

"shh. you don't have to answer." the young noble leaned closer. "only know that I'm sorry, and I didn't deserve that, what you did for me."

"m'lord." the guard's voice was a thready whisper, his eyelids heavy with drugged weakness. "fool - maybe - but safe - yes?"

"yes. I'm safe. we got away."

"ah. that's - good." there was a crooked hint of a smile on his face, casting him younger despite the lines of pain. "stop talking - like that. stupid guard I'd be - if I couldn't - "

the coughing caught him again, and the young noble looked up at the apprentice in sudden worry; she knelt down and slipped an arm under the guard's shoulders, easing a second pillow up behind him with her other hand. the rag she wiped his mouth with came away with bloody streaks.

"when your lord tells you not to talk I think he means it," she said, because being almost a real healer did still give you some privilege to scold people when necessary. "breathe, and just rest for now. I'll chase him off so he can get some rest too, don't worry."

his half-open eyes focused on hers for an instant, cloudy blue in the candlelight, and slipped past to find the young noble waiting beyond. the smile returned, briefly, before his eyes closed again, each breath shaking through him.

"you'd best be going now," she said, over her shoulder, trying to gentle her voice to soothe the stricken look she saw on the young noble's face in that moment. "but you can come back tomorrow, if you like."

maybe she should have asked the healers first about that. but surely one poor worried noble wouldn't be too much trouble, tomorrow morning. hopefully - she thought, then, as she helped the guard lie back on the pillows - hopefully there'd be good news for him then, too.

#whump #hurt comfort #medieval whump #crow writes a thing #me: write a little more on the scene! the scene: become lomng

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theoasiswinds · 3 months

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Hey my darlings quick update, I apologize again for those lovely folks that are waiting on me for illustrations, I will try to work fast today!

My son is doing fantastic today! So happy💖

Can't say the same for me though I had a annoying ER visit yesterday, I guess the stress finally caught up with me and my left side of face started going numb, thas not good, it's still numb and tingling. But I can speak and have full control of my arms and legs so it's good, the doc says that over stressing with hashimotos can do. So I have to chill..... And not stress to avoid something more serious.... So I had to make an appointment to follow up with my doc, and the new insurance doesn't cover him..... So I got an appointment with a new doctor, he has excellent reviews so all I got to do is now is wait until May... Hope I don't die in the process lol

But I live by a hospital so if my face starts not working or I can't speak, I'm covered!

So yeah anyhow I'll be working tonight and getting those commissions taken care!

#i might have some wine... even though i shouldn't #mueheheheeh #i need booze

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idleorbitals · 8 months

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only friends ep 3 watch through (part 2/2)

(part 1)

got too wordy again for a single post. maybe next week I will do Less Scenes. not right now tho

*begin vid section [3/4]*

boston and nick pull up to the party in the car we understand boston and top will be banging in later tonight. nick asks about top and mew and boston says, to nick's face, that mew is soooo into top but won't admit it. then they both play at accusing the other of being into top. I don't think either of them is into top. nick is into boston and boston is into conquest

there is faint eerie music playing over this entire scene. also this shot is just....gorgeously composed. goddamn

I don't know folks boston is such a manipulative jerk. we see it right here in this scene when he tells nick he can call their relationship what he wants to keep him on the hook. but also he is broadcasting to nick over and over how casual he wants to keep this and like. I don't sympathize with boston at all but idk if nick still has a firm grasp on the moral high ground here. not least, you know, now that we know that nick is bugging boston as this conversation happens

at the party we get a brief little sandray flirting scene. sand's "I don't know, I'm not a jukebox" line is an absolute winner in my book. ray casts move into your flirt-ee's personal space, say something suggestive in a low tone, and then smirk. straight out of ayan's book. haven't counted but this has definitely happened in nearly every scene they've shared so far

*pre read more warning this got Long*

mew smells a sandray rat. ray swears he doesn't have feelings for sand and thinks he's telling the truth. top walks up and ray gives him the stink eye but cannot compete with this entirely over the top (pun intended) move from sand:

baby doesn't do subtle even though he seems to think he can

boston shows up to mess with ray so that ray will help him mess with topmew. ray says "who's sleeping with who is not my business" which is generally true and nice of him to say but you know. he's feeling it anyhow. especially as boston keeps digging in on how pathetic ray is and how manipulative top is. boston really setting himself up for the karmic retribution here

then boston proceeds back into the kitchen to mess with top about mew and ray. particularly noteworthy here is that the picture he has of them was obviously taken without permission. was this a funny little *ooh my friends are kissing each other* moment for boston?? did he have some kind of motive even then to be creepy? is this just to add to his bad guy cred? anyway he promises he has even more but he's not going to show it to top unless he comes to find him in the parking lot after the party. now nick walks in and eavesdrops on this whole conversation. mess! mess! mess!

now boston is sending nick home alone but says "i'm worried about you" and this is a lie! I think! but it's hard to be sure bc everyone's lying all over the place here. we know that boston is staying behind to try to get in top's pants and nick is staying behind to watch and no one is to be trusted. "I'm a grown up" nick says, "no one dares to hurt me" in the voice of dramatic irony. then he says "look at my face" and pouts very cutely at boston

idk this reads to me as a genuinely fond expression. dunno if that's relevant but it feels notable somehow. I guess what I'm trying to say is boston is obviously a manipulative asshole but for everything he's pulling with top-mew-ray right now the main thing he could really be accused of with nick is stringing him along. he's obsessed with top for separate reasons than nick is obsessed with him but they are looking more alike than different in this episode to me

meanwhile mew comes upon ray watching sand pack up and accuses him of having feelings again. mew is picking up on some things ray seems to still be oblivious to. but also not picking up on some other very big things??

mew says: "you can finally get rid of your loneliness" "I want you to be happy" and this absolute kicker:

yes he is, because his crush just took him around the shoulder and told him he wanted him to be happy while gazing lovingly into his eyes.

especially now that we have proof positive that something happened between them in past it makes this difficult to read. can mew possibly claim ignorance of ray's feelings atp? is he well aware but doesn't return them and is trying to be a good friend by encouraging him to pursue something with sand? what's the line here?

ray's iconic throwing of the solo cup after mew leaves with top gets cut for, according to p'jojo, shot continuity reasons. interesting because not having it there gives a minor bump to how sym/pathetic ray looks coming out of this scene. once again he gets the nicest framing here and I could be wrong but I don't think this is my bias showing

*begin vid section [4/4]*

here come ray and sand to have their weirdly wholesome dynamic where sand checks in on ray looking blue all night and ray checks in on sand getting home safely

sand is having rideshare issues and ray insists on taking him home and sand gazes longingly up at ray from like half a foot above him once again. unreal

cut to brief shot where mew insists top goes home instead of coming in with him. good job advocating for yourself mew but bad job choosing the option that leads to at least two more messes tonight alone

sandray car makeout scene (the first?? 👀👀). I wrote a lot of this up here and in the interest of not making this post any longer than it already is that's where it's going to live

but I will use just a little bit of all that space I saved on this shot of ray looking absolutely blissed out about these moves

and also these much less fun character beats. in the first one ray looks up from the phone call and there's this awful moment where we see him look over at sand like he's just remembering he's there. ray cares about sand already more than he thinks he does. but when mew calls his attention refocuses so entirely on him that sand's feelings don't even rank. this whole thing feels so real and they're playing it so well

ray chews on his bottom lip and gazes forlornly after sand as he goes but he doesn't try to stop him or fight him when he says they're better off leaving it as a one night stand. I read this as an almost thoughtful move. ray has expressed already that he'd like to keep seeing sand but that this is contingent on sand being comfortable leaving emotional involvement out of it. right now ray knows his own priority is mew, and it would be a dickish, boston-ish move to try to pin sand down by placating him on his way out

we'll see what's up next for these two though. my guess based on what we've seen so far? ray will start to pursue sand more emotionally sincerely; he will hang onto the just-friends line but justify this to himself and to sand as showing proper care toward his new friend who he also happens to want to bang. sand will be drawn back in despite his better judgement. eventually they will concede that they are not just friends any more but/and ray's feelings for and prioritization of mew will keep messing with the dynamic. sand will find out about ray's long running feelings for mew but probably not from ray himself, and he will feel hurt and used, rightfully or not. as they continue to hurt each other they will both blame themselves, sand because he thinks he should have known better and ray because he does self-hatred like it's a competitive sport

can't wait

okay final scene: boston and top have their long-teased car sex and nick stands in a lit doorway a stones throw away watching and listening to the whole thing. I have many thoughts here but instead I'm going to just take the moment to appreciate some of the mechanics of this scene bc it exemplifies how many moving pieces they are stitching together to elevate this show to the next level narratively and compositionally:

-sand slamming the door as he gets out of ray's car perfectly synched with top closing the door as he climbs into boston's car is chef's kiss

-another absolutely gorgeous shot. the contrast of this one with the same shot (see top of post) of boston and nick except we see boston and top through the windshield and the rain

-boston sitting there behind the steering wheel of his perfect little car literally and metaphorically driving the plot with his manipulations

-neo's acting in this scene holy moly

👏 CI👏 NE👏 MA

(all ofts watch throughs)

#ofts #only friends the series #sandray #raysand #firstkhaotung #ofts meta #whew oh man #can't believe there's a whole week in between these episodes i barely have time to get through the entire cycle of grief in between lmao #ofts watch through

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carrickbender · 10 months

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A few snapshots...

- mostly local agates, both found and purchased, being tumbled. This was after the first "grit" tumble; we are on #2 now, with 4 days to go. Buggy is holding aventurine(not local) that's also in the tumble mix. What a kid, and he loves green.

- 2 shots from show day. 3 hours, so many songs, hit all the notes, but the guitar playing... it's just time to practice more. But i was asked back, and that counts.

- everybody talks about the onion truck pulling up. Well as luck would have it(more like the universe having a chuckle!), we passed the onion truck while I was taking my mom, my ex, and her daughter to the airport. My ex was hungover in the back, so it was a palatable trip.

- I was taking an update of a HAZWOPER class(new job stuff), and as part of the protocol for dealing with hazardous waste, they test your blood for lots of stuff including heavy metal. That would suck if the found Korn or, gasp, Megadeth.

I mean, if there was some in there you wouldn't have to tell anyone. You could just engage in a little White Lyon...

Ok, I'm gone, I'm gone...

Anyhow, it's been a rough week to start. Much love to yall, and if you want agates, I think we are going to the beach next weekend to search. I already owe @whatleighdoesnext some because, I mean, H and my mom love her rings(hint: everybody else will too!!!!), and I'd love to send a few bits of WA carnelian or pretty little agate on to yall after a bit of a polish.

Be well yall, and to all the Chicago folks I follow: I hope you are safe tonight.

#me #this is my life #dadlife #singer songwriter #exhausted #henry adam #washington state #red agate #pretty rocks #heavy metal #puns #i mean #dad jokes

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ecosystem-administrator · 7 months

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Call it a Day

Timeline: Post-5.3

Riol has been catching Thancred up on the things he missed while he was out.

“I think that’ll about cover it for now,” Riol said, stretching. “There’s some other little details, but you’ve got the big picture, and Krile’ll never forgive me if I overstrain yer pretty head when she’s just got it back on yer shoulders.”

Thancred grinned in agreement. “Truth be told she’d prefer I wasn’t even taking these reports yet, but I’m more than ready to start taking at least the paperwork aspects off your hands. I appreciate how much effort it must have been to step in for my sudden absence; you deserve the break.”

“Ain’t been all bad,” Riol shrugged. “I always did work well under pressure, so don’t hurry yourself on my account.” He tapped one finger against Thancred’s forehead, just above his now-healed eye. “No need to end up matching again, aye?”

“Who knew that several months of bed rest and constant healing magic was all that eye needed to finish recovering?” Thancred answered dryly. “Will you be staying the night, or is it back to Ala Mhigo?”

“Probably better stay here and head back in the morning.” Riol seemed a little disappointed by the necessity. “There’s nothing so urgent over there that it wants me to risk collapsing from aether drain by porting twice in one day.”

Thancred raised an eyebrow at him playfully. “Not going to miss your new friend out there too much, then?”

He was gratified to see Riol color faintly, even as the other man laughed it off. “I might’ve known ye’d already heard about that. Maxima’s a big boy, the Ala Mhigans won’t eat him if I leave him to his own devices for a bit. Not anymore, anyhow.”

“Glad to hear it.” He tilted his head and met Riol’s eye pointedly. “Does that mean our usual arrangement is called off? …Not that I ought to make myself available tonight anyway, if I stay up too late I think Krile will put me back in an infirmary bed herself.”

Riol shook his head and waved a hand vaguely. “We’re not either of us committed or anything,” he said. “Though…I haven’t been makin’ time for anyone else lately, so I should probably at least mention it to him before you make your way out that direction. But from what I understand of his history, the expectation where he comes from was for folks in his situation to take what they could get where they could find it. He ain’t for the doves at all, y’see.”

Thancred nodded, grimacing a little in sympathy. “A tricky circumstance in Garlemald. I suppose all the concealment has helped him be more useful to us.”

“Aye, seems that way.” Riol pursed his lips and then smacked Thancred’s shoulder gently. “But that’s for going off and leavin’ me to find that part out on me own. I spent months wondering why he was givin’ such mixed signals, ‘cause I didn’t know shite about what social life is like in Garlemald, and he fair panicked when I tried to push the issue not knowin’ why he was so shy. Would’ve been nice to have yer fancy Sharlayan input.”

Thancred couldn’t help but laugh a little sheepishly. “My apologies. I’ll just have to make it up to you both when I’m fully recovered.”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2023 #thancred waters #riol forrest #maxima x riol #just for completeness because it is part of that whole saga

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newhanovere · 2 years

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John wonders, not for the first time, if bringing Javier around his family again was really the right move. It's always been a balancing act, for them.

all of chapter three under the cut

Asking Javier to join him for a late-night rendezvous is a bit like sneaking into a well-guarded house in seek of gold beneath a creaky floorboard and trying not to wake the sleeping bloodhounds on the carpet. It’s not impossible, exactly, and you might be able to grab the goods and get out with your life even if they do wake, but it’s a hell of a lot easier if you can remain discrete.

But like gold, Javier glimmers and shines and draws John in no matter the risk. He’ll make up some excuse tonight, claiming boredom on guard duty if he’s really that desperate for a reason to get Javier alone. Most folk won’t question it, or at least have the good sense to keep their questions to themselves. Of course, most folk ain’t Abigail Roberts, who currently sits at the fire beside Javier, engaged in low conversation with him.

That certainly throws a wrench in things.

John ducks quickly behind a tree, eager to have his time with Javier but not wanting to get roped into another discussion about the boy Abigail insists is his. Still. He’s curious what she could possibly be saying to Javier. No doubt, she’s talking about John’s hopelessness as a father and a partner, probably asking Javier to speak to John on her behalf, or worse-

“I don’t think that’d work on Jack,” Abigail says, a ghost of a laugh in her voice. Huh. What’s she talking to Javier about Jack for?

“You never know,” Javier says with mock-sageness, guitar held loosely in his hands but chords and melodies mostly forgotten in favor of his conversation with Abigail, which is...strange. In John’s experience, it takes a lot to convince Javier to really focus on something when he’s got a tune in his head. Granted, John knows just how to create such a distraction, but he didn’t think Abigail did.

“He’s a smart boy. Fresh, but smart.” Where is Jack, now that John thinks about it? Abigail rarely lets the boy leave her side. He risks a peek around the side of the tree and spots a small figure of three years old, squeezed between Abigail and Javier, his head leaned against the musician’s side. The sight stirs something nasty and jealous in John’s gut.

“I think maybe you was just a bit gullible, Mr. Escuella,” Abigail continues, reaching out to stroke the hair of her sleeping son. “Or your mama was a better storyteller than I am.”

“Let me tell him about it, then,” Javier insists. “El Chupacabra terrified all the kids in town, Abigail. Jack’ll never leave your tent past sundown, not for the next two or three years at least.” Abigail hums thoughtfully, seemingly considering Javier’s offer of scaring Jack into behaving, for fear of some man or beast from his hometown in Mexico. It is not lost on John that this is more than he has spoken to Abigail about Jack since her pregnancy, and more than he’s ever heard about Javier’s childhood. How long have these two been friends, anyhow?

“Maybe. If he goes jumping out the wagon again, I’ll consider it-“ At that, Javier bursts out laughing, though he tries to quiet himself in the still night, Abigail shushing him desperately. “It ain’t funny!”

“Sorry,” Javier says, biting his lip to hold back laughter. “It’s only - he came flying out-“

“I know! I was there!” Even with her harsh whisper, Abigail is clearly amused. She used to talk to John like that, when he’d mimic Bill or Arthur and she thought he was being too mean, but clearly found his impressions funny. It just makes the sinking sensation in his stomach go deeper, turn more unsettling, to hear her laughing with Javier like that.

“Kid walked it off okay, though, considering,” Javier says fondly, shaking his head. “Think he would’ve wailed if it weren’t for Arthur.” Great. Another man John would rather not think about spending time with Jack.

“Oh, please,” Abigail says dramatically, though she sounds fond, too. “Big idiot practically told him to do it again.”

“Nice jumpin’ there, Jack!” says Javier, in a very bad impersonation of Arthur. To John’s dismay, Abigail giggles openly at the imitation, not even pausing to scold or hush him “Mighty fine! Takin’ after bullfrogs, are ya?” Abigail snorts, undignified and girlish, and Javier gasps before breaking out into laughter again.

“Mama?” comes a sleepy voice from between them, and John thinks he’s just about seen enough.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jack," Abigail murmurs. "Come on, it's late, let's get to bed."

"Yeah, sorry, Jack," Javier echoes. "Go to sleep and we'll sing some more tomorrow." Abigail scoops the sleepy boy up in her arms, giving him big wet kisses that make him giggle. John thinks he's gonna be sick.

"You thank Javier now," Abigail says as John backs away, his fingers shaking.

"Thank you, Tío Javier," Jack says dutifully, sleep making his voice faint.

"Anytime, Jack," Javier replies easily, happily, even. "I had a lot of fun with you." Abigail walks away with Jack as John takes another step back, a branch cracking under his boot. He curses, harsh and without meaning to, and Javier's head whips around in his direction.

"John?" Javier calls softly, and if John didn't know better, he'd almost think Javier looks ashamed. John doesn't answer him, however, choosing to return swiftly to guard duty and forgetting any fantasies he might've made reality with Javier. He's not really horny anymore, anyway.

"Mornin', Charles." John yawns and stretches as he says it, crossing the short distance from his bedroom to the dining room. Charles Smith gives a little two-fingered wave in greeting, the bags under his eyes indicating another restless night. None of them have been peaceful, really, not for a couple of days now, but John knows that's no excuse. He's got to get a second house built sooner rather than later, to give Charles and Sadie a real home. And it'd be a good place for ranch hands to stay, once they can afford those.

Ranch hands, and unexpected guests.

John sinks into his seat at the dining room table, tired bones cracking like an old man's, and murmurs thanks as Abigail deposits a loaf of bread and a plate of charred sausage links. John, smartly, in his opinion, decides not to comment on the incinerated meat before him.

"You need any help?" John inquires, tipping back some in his seat to watch as she bustles away. Abigail waves her hand distractedly at him. She's said nothing regarding the previous night's events, but if she's out here making breakfast, John has to assume that the fires have all been put out. Well, the metaphorical fires, anyway. The quality of their upcoming meal is still up for debate. He turns back to the table, reaching out to see if he can chew through the exceptionally crispy sausage, and spots Charles staring down the hallway.

"You think Sadie needs me to take over?" Charles asks, eyes still focused on a point beyond John. John shakes his head.

"We'll know when she needs a hand," he says decisively. Charles grunts something like a disagreement, but accepts John's answer regardless, slicing up bread for the table. They sit in relative silence, punctuated only by the bellow of Uncle's snoring, and the soft rhythm of Jack's breathing over on the couch.

"He's a heavy sleeper," Charles comments, apparently also noting the boy's sleep sounds. John nods, smiling a little, his hands clasped beneath his chin.

"Guess that's the old life still in him," John says ruefully. Jack wakes up instantly the moment there's a hint of danger, blessedly on hand to help John batten down the hatches of a blown-open barn door or corral a frightened escaped horse, even in the dead of night. But the boy somehow manages to doze through even the loudest conversations. In all fairness, you probably don't spend your formative years tuning out the drunken ramblings of Bill Williamson and Sean MacGuire without figuring out how to discern a distressed cry from rowdy laughter.

"It's good." Charles appears thoughtful, admirably working his way through a piece of sausage. "I think...he must feel safe." John almost snorts out a laugh - years on the run, either from the law or the results of his father's bad temper, can't possibly make a boy feel secure. And yet, Jack shies away from violence, still runs to his Pa when he's afraid, sure he'll be protected. It's more than John had, at that age.

"I guess," John muses. He chooses with rather fierce determination not to think about the implications of the last few days, about what John's most recent rash decision might mean for Jack's safety. It isn't something he cares to dwell on.

Abigail returns swiftly, a large platter of eggs in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other, immediately tutting at John when he merely smiles appreciatively at her.

"You gonna clear this table or what?" she asks. John makes to copy Charles, placing pot holders in useful spots and kissing Abigail's hand wetly the moment it's free. She allows the affection, but does not return it in kind, or playfully chastise him for being an idiot. John deflates a little but tries to take Abigail's aloofness in stride.

"I'll get Jack up," John offers, trying to stand. Abigail pushes him gently back in his seat, and he's grateful even for that small contact.

"Let me," she says quietly, a sad, soft look adorning her lovely features. "He tossed and turned last night. I must've disturbed him, moving about like I was. Tonight should be quieter, at least."

"Boy can't stay on the couch," John calls after his wife as she gently shakes their son's shoulder. "We'll get his room free up soon enough." John only catches the tail-end of Charles's doubtful expression, but it's enough to tick him off, just a little. "What?"

"He was hurt pretty bad, John," Charles says evenly, always so fair, never trying to start a fight, and John immediately regrets his clipped tone. Still, he can't help the simmering anger - of course he was hurt pretty badly. John's the one who hurt him. "I know what we said about the barn, but..."

"Jack'll do fine here for now," Abigail calls over her shoulder. "He'll sleep better without me stomping about, ain't that right, boy?"

"Mmf," Jack says, barely rising at all, the sleep so thick in his eyes that he doesn't quite open them yet. John still doesn't like it, but he offers his tired son a grin that he doubts the boy sees. Jack's been a trooper through a lot of change in these past few months. John appreciates it, really, even if he ain't the best at getting the words across.

"Go get washed up now, breakfast is ready," Abigail insists, ushering Jack off the couch and toward the bathroom. He stumbles along sleepily, appearing younger and smaller in the wee hours of the morning. Abigail watches him amble off with her hands on her hips, shaking her head, but when she turns back to John and Charles, there's nothing but tired affection there. John waves her over.

"Sit and eat, darlin'," John implores her, kicking out a chair with his boot. Abigail accepts the seat at his right side, pouring herself a cup of coffee and considering it pensively.

"I feel like I'm forgetting something," she admits after a minute, sipping at her coffee somewhat reluctantly. "Jack's clothes are laid out on our bed. I let Rufus out already. Oh, I don't know..."

"Y'all want your potatoes browned or blackened?" calls Sadie, appearing around the corner with a large pan, smoke billowing off of it like a bad omen. Abigail covers her mouth with both hands, eyes going wide. It's, quite frankly, adorable, even if it means that most of their morning meal is little more than charcoal.

“Oh, damn,” Abigail sighs, rubbing her forehead. “I was so sure I timed everything right.”

“You’ll get ‘em next time, Abi,” Sadie says warmly. Charles, for his part, is halfway out of the seat already, prepared to take his shift, when Sadie waves her hand at him. “Sit down, Charles. He ain’t so much as twitched. I figure I’ll take breakfast with y’all and get back to it.” Reluctantly, Charles returns to his chair.

“Thank you, Sadie,” John says quietly. She waves him off, too.

“Easier than helping you shift hay bales, I’ll tell you that much,” Sadie jokes, though it falls rather flat at the mostly silent table. “Anyway, I know a thing or two about keeping outlaws from jumping out the nearest window, ya know what I mean?”

"It'd certainly save us a lot of trouble," Charles murmurs. John sends him an incredulous look. "I only mean, I don't think we'd have much to worry about if he escaped. It'd be foolish of him to try and get revenge."

"Sure, foolish," Sadie agrees, rolling her eyes. "Don't mean he won't try. He don't exactly strike me as the forgiving sort, Charles."

"What do you think, John?" To John's surprise, the entire table turns to him, even Abigail, whose relatively neutral mood has suddenly stiffened into something very tense.

Well. John supposes he shouldn't be surprised. He's the one who got them into this mess.

"How 'bout we cross that bridge when we get to it?" John suggests, trying and failing to hide his irritation. None of his breakfast companions seem particularly impressed with his attitude, so John sighs and tries again. "Look, when he's well enough, we figure out what's next, alright? But you all saw his condition. He's next to death. We've got some time to think." John does not say, of course, that it's his fault their boarder is so perilously injured, and therefore on his shoulders to ensure that said boarder leaves here well. Everyone's probably already thinking it anyway.

"I don't like it," Sadie announces after a moment, and John can't pretend he's shocked. For an ex-murderin', ex-thievin', ex-all-around-outlaw, he's found that Sadie can be remarkably final in her judgment toward other such criminals. Then again, that might merely be that wonderous self-awareness John so sorely lacks.

"Me neither," Charles agrees, and John's mouth is already open and ready with an argument, but Charles is quicker. "But John's right. He's no danger to us. As long as we have eyes on him, we're not going to have a problem." John offers Charles an appreciative smile, but Charles is too busy staring at his food to return it.

"Well, that's that then," John starts to say, hoping to put the matter to rest for a week or so at least, when there's a loud slam from further in the house, and Jack appears in the hallway, white as a ghost, frozen beside his occupied bedroom.

A second passes in which John believes, for a moment, he can hear the rhythm and pulse of his own heart beating.

"I didn't mean to," Jack says shakily, cutting through the silence, and every shoe seems to drop at once.

"Jack, are you alright?"

"Is he awake?"

"Why were you in there?"

"Did he say anything to you?" It's John's voice that rises above the din, John who reaches Jack first, forcibly pulling his son out of the hallway, the long narrow space cast in dark shadow as a cloud passes overhead. Jack stares up at John, his expression unreadable, perhaps terror, perhaps confusion, and John shakes his son again before repeating the question. "Jack, did he say anything to you?"

"Yes - I mean no - barely anything," Jack says, shaking his head furiously and wriggling in John's grasp. "I'm fine - it's fine, Pa." John calms a little, and Jack takes the opportunity to wrest himself from his father's grip. Jack dusts himself off, crossing his arms over his body, looking everywhere but at John.

Embarrassment. That's what's written all over Jack's face. Not horror or bafflement, just humiliation at being accosted so in front of guests. John can't particularly bring himself to care much for Jack's briefly bruised ego - that room's off limits for a goddamn reason.

"What were you doing in there, son?" John asks at last, running a frustrated hand through his hair as Abigail appears at his side. Jack shrugs, still not meeting John's eyes.

"I was tired," Jack explains quietly. "I wasn't thinking. I just went to my room to get dressed, like always. I wasn't thinking."

"That ain't good enough, son," John says, feeling a hundred years old. "Now I know it ain't fair with him taking your room, but he's dangerous, Jack, so you can't be going in there-"

"It's just Javier," Jack interrupts shortly, and it shouldn't hit him like a slap, to hear Javier's name out of his son's mouth, but there it is.

"Things is different now," is all John can manage to say after getting over the sting. Jack shrugs again, full of contempt. Abigail, sensing an impending explosion, intervenes.

"Your clothes are laid out on our bed, Jack," Abigail says as easily as if it were any other day. "Go on, get dressed now." Jack mumbles something unintelligible to his mother and stalks off, though the tense atmosphere doesn't leave with him. John's gaze slides over to Jack's bedroom, where Javier Escuella is apparently awake, and at least 20 different ways to threaten the injured man into never speaking to Jack again flash in his brain.

"Don't," breathes Abigail. John looks down in surprise to find her hand on his chest. "Don't, John. Let Sadie." Sure enough, Sadie's already squeezing past them both and reaching for the doorknob to Jack's bedroom. She glances John's way, nodding seriously at him, and then slips inside so fast John can't even take a peek at Javier.

"He talked to our boy, Abigail," John says furiously, resisting the very strong urge to march into the bedroom anyway. "Jack's off-limits."

"Oh, John," Abigail says dismissively, leaving John utterly fucking bewildered as she waves him off. "Don't be an idiot."

"Abigail," John says again, trying desperately to convey the seriousness of this as Abigail, of all fucking things, begins clearing the table - Charles, it would seem, had disappeared once it became clear that Jack was alright, not that John blames him. "Abigail, if he hurts Jack-"

"He won't."

"Excuse me?"

"He won't," she says simply. John gapes at his wife, and his jaw drops even lower as she rolls her eyes. "John, d'you think I'd have let you bring that man in here if I thought he'd lay a hand on our son?" John shakes his head dumbly. "Exactly. Now I don't want Jack in there - no sense confusin' him. All these folk comin' back, he's liable to think, well, Uncle Javier's back, too. But I ain't worried about Javier doin' no child-killing."

"We don't know what he's been up to all these years," John reasons. "We don't know who he's become." Abigail puts the dirty skillet she'd been cleaning down in the sink and levels John with a supremely annoyed look.

"You really think he's turned into a monster, John Marston? Do you?" John envisions, for what feels like the thousandth time, an empty desert, an old lover, and a gun pointed quite clearly at the sky. Sighing, John shakes his head. "Then stop belly-achin' because a half-dead man bothered to say good morning to a 12-year-old boy."

"I don't get you," John says irritably as Abigail returns to her chores, ignoring the muttered "here we go" he hears under her breath. "You're not one bit concerned about Jack talking to Javier-"

"It's not Jack I'm worried about!" Abigail snaps.

John blinks rapidly, trying to process. "What's that supposed to mean?" Abigail heaves out what seems like a massive sigh, leaning heavily over the sink. Her brow is furrowed, her eyes closed like she's trying to decide something, and then all at once, she takes a deep breath, and smiles thinly at her husband.

"Nothing, John," says Abigail, aware that John knows she's lying, and simply not caring. "Nothing at all. Go on, now. Don't make Charles work alone." More nasty, petty, cold thoughts than John can count sit light on his tongue, ready to spit out at his wife if John would only pull the trigger and let fly. But John is not the man he was eight years ago, and Abigail has put up with more than enough lately, so he swallows the bitterness whole and stomps out to the front porch, eager to work and get both body and mind the hell out of this house.

"Mmm-mmm, did I sleep through breakfast?" John hears Uncle ask Abigail sweetly.

"Uncle, what you sleep through could fill a book," she barks at him, followed by the familiar thwack of the dish towel being whipped. "And unless you care to do some work today, you might as well sleep through supper, too!" John doesn't stick around to hear Uncle's countless excuses and complaints, choosing to make straight for the barn. Right now, the work's about the only thing on this ranch that doesn't make him want to scream.

#new’s fics #tw sex talk #jovier #johnigail #john marston x javier escuella #john marston x abigail marston #charles smith #sadie adler #jack marston #rdr2 fic

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