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jeeperso · 3 years

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D&D Quotes Without context

Miscellaneous Edition, for those quotable lines from between sessions

"All I wanna do, is fork a giant woman! A giant woman!" "Jonni, I'm pretty sure she is some type of undead, probably a vampire. Are you sure that is a good idea?" "If I don’t get turned into a blueberry it won’t be my worst date." "Okay, but if you have to defend yourself just don't burn the place down for once." "Oh, Nyx. Sweet summer child. I never make promises we both know I won’t even try to keep." "Jonni, if I wake up to my bed surrounded in flames again I'm short-sheeting your next bed every night for at least a month." "I know you're trying to score here, but Lady Dimitrescu's daughters are literally vampires AND bugs. I can overlook one, but as a Paladin, it is my sacred duty to burn this place to the ground and stir the ashes."

"We don't let Marshall make breakfast anymore." "Those waffles are well-fortified." "I'm going to be charitable and call it hardtack." "We can use these waffles as melee weapons." "Well if we need to deflect siege engines they'll be good to have." "This is still carbon based and digestible by human systems without any poisons." "I can't serve this. It'll cause ... death." "Marshal we've been over this. This Pizza has 10% less of a lethal amount of grease." "Plus they signed the waivers when they bought a ticket. It's fine." "And don't forget to push the Cakeon." "Cakeon being slices of cake wrapped in bacon." "The special sauce is a mixture of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, ranch, horseradish, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and anything unfortunate enough to fall into the mixing vat."

"You do have a copy of the legal code I requested in my letter? As landed gentry you should actually have legal avenues to... I'm sorry did you say Burning child?"

"First I'm going to nail a crossbow bolt through your heart. Then I'm going to mount your balls to walls on opposite sides of this chamber." "I need Three Barrels of Butter" "Are you serious? Those Claws could crush an elephant in full plate!" "You're Right!" *Turns to first person* "We might need more than three barrels of butter."

"So Ioun is the patron of poor college kids. that scans "

"its hardtack or a mug of molten cheese-fried... something in a woven mug of bacon. your choice."

"Welp, all this coke ain't gonna snort itself..."

"Right hand me that dress and the bail money. I'll get Jonni." OOC: Well I mean they allow men in the city. Its just no men live in the city. "I stand by my statement. I'm allowed to look pretty every now and then." OOC: And dragons are the most unprejudiced lovers of anyone after bards.

OOC: Well I mean come on, its Ravenloft: saying a place is of death and madness is like making the observation the day ends in y. "Going out. Getting laid." "Jonni, she’s a werewolf." "Going out, forking a werewolf." OOC: Well Lycanthropy isn't usually sexually transmitted. Its just that Mercedes is a biter. OOC: ...I don't have an appropriate response to that.

"You seriously think I’d turn on my friends for a pile of gold?!?" "sigh I’ll show you my tits. "Hot damn, let’s get these murders done!" "No, Jonni, stay good. Besides, there are plenty of other girls who will do that without asking you to murder us." "Hmmmm… this is the moral quandary of my life…" "I’ll give you five bucks." "Scales tipped!" "Phew, I thought I was going to have to cover her next trip to the topless bar." "No, no, I have the bail money right here."

Nyx: So what’s the inside of Jonni’s head like? Edmund (with thousand yard stare): Imagine every ladies only smut magazine you’ve ever heard of going on forever into infinity while everything is on fire. Food was good though.

"It’s cool. They stole it." "And you know this how?" "Magic." “90% of Ravenloft deaths are mysterious vanishings.” "Why does everything come out covered in glitter and … is that …" "Lube. I’ve got a few theories." "Please don’t share them."

OOC: This is a plan that ends with Strahd having fewer brides, his castle is in flames, and he’s lost his cape.

OOC: Our team consists of a horny pyromancer, a gnome who can fillete you in five seconds, an HP lovecraft protagonist with actual magic backing them up, a literal slab of iron with a face, and a guy with a "I went to the eternal city of Ryleth and all I got was PTSD and this lousy T shirt". Gorbash smashing his shield into their face: "Have! You! Considered! Therapy!" OOC: Good news is you guys will no longer be the most conspicuous guys at the masquerade now. Jonni: Challenge accepted! "Nyx, the bounty on stealing his fake mustache is still on."

"Vanilla is the king of flavors. What does it say about society where vanilla is considered just 'regular'?" "That they have a lot of vanilla." Lash: "Don’t you want wishes?" Jonni: "Do I need wishes to get to see you naked?" Lash: "No?" Jonni: "Fuck ‘em." Vesh: "Oh dammit its my arranged fiance." Pit Fiend: "Milady." Vesh: "An extra wish to whoever punches this douchecanoe in the nards." Jonni: "I wish…for Bigby’s clenched fist of nard punching."

Soth: "Oh, gods, why am I on fire and why is Immigrant Song playing?" Jonni: "Take a guess." Hazlik: "Okay, so its a partridge, stuffed inside a chicken, stuffed inside a duck, stuffed inside a turkey, and the whole thing is fried on a stick. Congratulations, that's the most horrible thing I have ever seen, and I once crossbred an elephant and an owl." "I give him the 'itis, and we run like we stole something." OOC: ...weirdly Curse of Strahd has stats for Strahd zombies but not Strahd Skeletons. Or Strahd's skeletal Steed. Strahd once went to a branding seminar hosted by Bane and it changed his life.

"Are we on a high enough floor that if I throw him through the window he'll be killed by the fall?" "Oh, but when I say stuff like that it’s all 'Jonni, murder is wrong.'" "When they say pick your battles they don't mean to pick all of them. That's too many battles Jonni. Put some back." OOC: He's technically already got a symbiote. OOC: They can get married. Gorbash: "I'm increasing the rent." Venom: "Can I keep the pool table?" Gorbash: "I'm not a monster." Giant Brain: "Jonni… I have summoned you here for… WHY AM I ALREADY ON FIRE! PUT ME OUT! PUT ME OUT!"

"Hello We're the party-crashers. This is Jonni, she's here to steal your women and burn your shit down. That's Nyx, she's going to repatriate certain items from the premise. Marshal over there, is here to studiously ignore our shenanigans. This is the New Guy. He seems pretty chill. I'm Gorbash... and I have been distracting you."

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly. Jonni: "Hold up. Trying to sex a spider." Nyx: (throws her hands up) And then Jonni wakes up with a spider venom hangover webbed to a wall waiting to be eaten. Jonni: "Eh, I’ve had worse one night stands. I’m not a fucking blueberry." OOC 1: Hey, where does your weed elf grow [her] crops? OOC 2: She probably just grows them in the room she hasn’t paid rent on. OOC 3: Because I was also considering a circle of spores druid tortle. OOC 2: We could be partners! We could turn this into road to el dorado staring Cheech and Chong. OOC: Wait, I just realized five people are hanging out in a pirate bar, and none of us are rogues. We are gonna need someone to get thieves tools. OOC: We have a barbarian with a big stick.

"Are we Foxhound now? Blunderbuss Octopus." OOC1: You want to put the stoner in charge of food. OOC2: Eyup. OOC1: I see no way this can go wrong! OOC3: We need the four basic food groups. Beans, Bacon, Whisky, and Lard. “We pray to Almighty Darkseid! Give us a sign! Thumbs up, for the triumph of the human spirit! Thumbs down to begin the everlasting reign of darkness!” “Where did you find this guy?” “Me? I thought you hired him.” OOC: Yup, nature, arcana, history, investigation and religon at +6. MJ got baked and watched the Discovery Orb a lot. Tordek: "But we have a cleric, Jozan, over there." Strahd: *sigh* Snaps fingers, and suddenly one of Strahd's brides sucks Jozan out the window, cue screaming. "Oh look, you suddenly have an opening, how fortunate." Tordek: "We also have a druid...." Vadania: "SHUT UP, TORDEK!" Edmund: "I think the first order of business may be to discuss your Human Resources strategy..." Strahd: "I have a guy for that too."

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"When someone as smart as him talks with himself, it's not crazy...They call it monologing." "I thought it was soliloquy?" "No, soliloquy is when you're talk at someone else when your talking to yourself." "Most people would run from a demon, you run towards it to study it." Professor: "THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING! A FROGHEMOTH, AND RIGHT UP CLOSE, IT WILL BE AMAZING TO SEE THIS PERFECT KILLING MACHINE IN ACTION." OOC: Also note the Professor is Lawful Good, Archie is Chaotic Good, so collectively they balance out to Neutral good. OOC: That's good. "The incinerations will continue until morale improves!" “You never incinerate the women!” “Because I’m fucking them!” “I… was not expecting you to be so honest about that…”

"You got what you wanted....but you lost what you had...." "Yes, I'm familiar with how capitalism works."

OOC: Dragons are like, “That’s Krandor the shiney. He only fucks other dragons. Weirdo.”

Gorbash: "D'awww, so tiny... perfect size... FOR PUNTING!" *boots tiny mind-flayer into the horizon*

"Dracula hasn't been spotted in almost recently. Whats he gonna do, destroy all we know and love like he definitely can?" "... my god you people are too stupid to live." "What are you doing in my house?" Gorbash: "...well Edmund has been reading your books, I've been sorting through your armory, Nyx and Irost has been going through your other shinies, Marshal has been cleaving anything monstrous that gets too close, and Jonni has been lighting things on fire to stave off boredom." Gorbash: "Okay Marshal, Jonni. Rock, paper, scissors over who gets [to kill] the bishop."

Jonni: "Did you really think this would make up for what you did?" Nima: "I… killed everyone you grew up with." Jonni: "Yeah, and I’m still not forgiving you for what you did to Eddie." Nima: "I am missing some key context here…" Nima: "Also I committed identity theft on you by having my new undead army tell everyone you are running the show." Jonni: "Oh, no. You’ve fooled the boar tribe. Who still haven’t figured out shitting in a hole." Nima: "Yeah I noticed that. I ruined two pairs of shoes attacking their camps."

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft #castlevania #resident evil village #ooc

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khrysopoeia · 3 years

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This is in super rough shape, but I've been wanting to share something from this AU for ages, so I'm going to go ahead and put out a preview. Still working on the larger plot, but it's stock fantasy/D&D-inspired FMA AU and I'm having far too much fun with it.

The Goblin’s Jig was an adventurers’ tavern, which meant the ale was strong, the barkeep was stronger, and the barmaids were less ‘feisty’ or ‘spirited’ than they were ‘trained combatants.’ The need for that skillset rarely arose, though. Teagan, the Jig’s owner, didn’t stand for the kind of adventurer who thought their line of work entitled them to special favors. He was a jovial older man -- and an adventurer himself before an infected wound had forced the amputation of half of his left leg -- who generally knew the type when he saw them.

A quarter hour ago, Roy Mustang had known none of this. Fortunately, one of his companions was a chatty drunk.

“I don’t think he wants to hear Teagan’s life story, Brosh,” said the less chatty of the two. Her name was Maria something -- Roy thought the surname started with an ‘R,’ but he wasn’t sure. She and her friend were members of the Pendleton city guard who Roy had helped out of a tight spot involving a cutpurse with a couple more friends than they’d expected. They’d offered to buy him a hot meal and a round or two as thanks. The meal had been more of an enticement than the drinks.

“He sounds like a man with some interesting stories,” Roy said. And some interesting contacts, he didn’t add.

“Adventurers get all the good stories,” Denny Brosh said. “I bet you have some, right?”

“I suppose I do,” said Roy, and launched into a well-practiced yarn about a goblin tribe and an enchanted helmet. As usual, he made sure to grin just a little slyly during the most improbable bits. You’re in on the joke, that grin said. I’m exaggerating, but not making things up, exactly. If you fit the mold people expected too perfectly, they got suspicious. Roy was careful to give his stories an edge of braggadocio. It kept people’s questions focused where he wanted them, which kept them from realizing that every one of the stories was a complete fabrication.

“Is that when your hand got messed up?” Denny said, and Roy stopped mid-sentence.

“Brosh,” Maria growled, “you don’t just ask people about missing fingers! Sorry about him.”

It was his thumb, actually, on his left hand. And Roy had gotten enough practice with that question over the last year and a half that he no longer actually flinched when someone asked it. It still threw him, though, and it was a relief when the door to the tavern swung open with a bang and a gust of cold spring air.

Three figures in patched leather armor entered. Two of them, both humans, were straining under the weight of a large chest.

“Teagan, pour a round for the tavern on me!” the third figure bellowed. He was a black-haired dwarf with no beard, but an impressive mustache. It was braided and everything. “The Company of the Golden Oak just raided a dragon’s hoard!”

The entire room heard that. Every soul in the tavern other than Roy broke into some form of laughter, be it loud guffaws, hearty chuckles or, in the case of one gnome who should probably have stopped drinking two tankards ago, manic giggles.

But no, that wasn’t quite right. One other person wasn’t laughing. A human woman, seated at the bar with her back to Roy, glanced at the three men and shook her head ruefully. Roy had noted her when she came in, more for the hand-and-a-half sword strapped to her back and the high quality of her wool cloak -- it looked about five times as warm as anything he owned -- than for anything else.

“Laugh all you like,” the leader of the 'Company' said. “We’ve got a chest full of dragon gold that says it’s true!”

Because dragons always kept their valuables in flammable wooden chests with locks sized for human hands. Right. Roy dismissed the trio and went back to his meal. The roast chicken was good, and the overcooked carrots were food. He appreciated both.

“Bullshit,” called a voice from a shadowy corner of the tavern. There was a large man, larger even than the three with the chest, seated there in full plate mail. Roy had given up trying to figure out how his chair hadn’t collapsed a while back, but he hadn’t stopped glancing over periodically. Anyone with that much steel on them in a room full of people in normal clothing was automatically dangerous.

It wasn’t the armored man who had spoken, though. A shorter figure, one Roy hadn’t spotted through the crowd, stood up, gesturing to the chest.

“That thing has to be three feet long and, what, a foot and a half wide? An inch deep in gold and you’d already have more than three hundred pounds on your hands.” The speaker picked up his tankard and made for the bar. “Hey, Teagan, you gave me watered-down ale again.”

“You’re a kid, Ed,” the tavern keeper grumbled into the silence that followed. “And you already get a discount.” People began turning back to their drinks. Maria shook her head with a rueful smile and took an enthusiastic bite of chicken. The two human men with the chest put it down, one looking mournful and the other downright enraged.

“Dammit, [dwarf], you swore this was the real thing!” the angrier of the armored humans said.

“Of course it’s the real thing!”

“But how do we know it’s actually gold?” asked the mournful man. “It better be. I’ve got a tab going at the smithy on [street name] now.” Judging by his hat, which would have been gaudy even without the full rooster’s worth of plumage and was probably worth as much as his well-used armor, he also had one going at a haberdasher.

“I’m telling you, it’s gold!” the leader insisted. “Dragons hoard gold. Everyone knows that!” He turned to the tavern at large. “Any of you heard of a dragon hoarding anything other than gold?”

A couple of people nodded thoughtfully, though more rolled their eyes, and most just ignored the dwarf. There hadn’t been a dragon seen in Amestris in decades, let alone this far west. They were rare even in the desert to the east these days.

“You could just open it,” the tavern keeper suggested as he poured a drink for Ed. “If it’s full of anything valuable, you can replace the lock easily enough.”

“Sounds good to me,” growled the other armored human. He pulled a set of lockpicks from his belt pouch, which just went to show that it wasn’t wise to assume things about people’s skill sets based on their body type.

Maria and Denny exchanged looks as the man knelt in front of the chest. Those picks were probably illegal to use in the city. Adventurers tended to pose dilemmas like that for municipal guards, which was one reason you rarely saw Maria and Denny’s type in establishments that catered to them. Bringing Roy to a tavern frequented by guards would have been even more awkward, though, and those were the only other places that let you keep a weapon the size of Roy’s longsword with you. He was fairly sure he hadn’t been too suspicious about mentioning that he didn’t like to be parted from his weapon. Just an adventurer here. Not quite average, but with quirks that you can easily understand.

Before the two guards could decide what to do about this particular awkward [dilemma], though, the man with the lockpicks screamed. Roy whipped around to see his hand and wrist disappearing into a hole in the chest where the lock had been -- a hole with large, gleaming teeth.

“Mimic!” shouted the man with the hat as the whole tavern came to their feet and dozens of weapons were drawn.

[to be continued]

#fma fic #roy mustang #royai to come #fic preview #in rough shape #untitled fantasy AU

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enkelimagnus · 3 years

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A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 4, 3337 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for

Read on AO3

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The Lady’s Chamber is an amphitheatre, standing facing the crossroads of the second biggest crossing of Whitestone. Vex has driven by it a couple of times now, and she’s always seen a couple of worshippers there. Now that she knows the state of the Zenith’s congregation, it seems like this one is much more popular.

The theater part is domed in cream-colored stone. It’s in much better shape than the Zenith, despite the desolate patches of grass peeking out of the stones of the courtyard surrounding it. It’s winter however, so desolate grass is no real surprise.

Whitestone feels a little less like somewhere she could run away and hide in now that she’s felt the heaviness lingering in the city’s past. Vex is a little shaken by Father Reynal, his attitude and the state of his temple.

It’s mid afternoon and the sun has descended greatly on the horizon. Shadows grow as she steps closer to the door to the inner part of the Lady’s Chamber. The theater itself is empty, but she’s hoping the sanctum will at least have a priest. And with luck, this priest will be able to help her root the fiend out.

The door is made of metal and she knocks on it with the scale-shaped knocker. Someone must have been right behind it, because she doesn’t have to wait very long before it opens.

Vex tries not to let her disappointment show on her face. The person behind the door has thick white mustaches and receding white hair and looks weathered by time. He probably won’t be up for a hike and a battle with a fiend.

Fuck, what is it with this town and elderly clerics?

“Can I help you, ser?” The older priest says with a polite but not incredibly cheerful smile.

“Good day, Elder,” Vex replies in kind, before starting to explain again who she is and why she’s there. The facts haven't changed since she’s talked to Father Reynal.

She’s faced with a similar look from this priest than Father Reynal’s. A muted concern, and light dismissal. She’s already tired of this town’s clergy and she doesn’t even know this one’s name.

“Come in, for a moment,” the priest says before letting Vex into the sanctum of the temple.

It’s a simple main room with a rectangular wooden table. The legs are sturdy, skillfully carved. Contrary to the Zenith, this priest doesn’t seem to be alone. Sitting around the table, looking up at Vex as she enters, are two individuals.

With her bow strapped to her back and her muddy boots, Vex initially felt like a sore thumb in these holy places. But when her eyes fall on one of the people in this room, she suddenly feels much better about herself.

Across the table from the entrance is a goliath. Vex has never talked to one, or been so close really. She knew there were a few working for the TWC, but none that she actually met. She’s seen a couple in passing.

They must be at least seven feet tall, skin grey and heavily tattooed all over their back and bald head. A giant axe, fit for their hand, rests against the table by their left side. By their right is sitting the other figure. Next to the goliath, this gnome looks even smaller.

Their skin is a strange purple, almost brown, their hair black with a dark purple streak. It’s a charming thing really. The difference between these two is almost comical. Vex is immediately interested.

“This young ranger seems to have picked up a fiend in the forest,” the priest says.

The goliath looks up in interest. “Do you want us to go smash it for you?”

Vex chuckles lightly. “Actually yes,” she points out. “Do you have divine gifts?”

The gnome next to the goliath laughs out lightly, looking over at their companion. “Oh, that’s funny!” Their voice is high and unbelievably sweet. Vex finds herself softening a little towards them, for no reason outside of that laugh and that voice.

“I don’t,” the goliath shrugs. “I mostly can smash things. But she’s got all the divine shit you want,” they gesture towards the gnome.

“My name is Pike Trickfoot,” the gnome introduces themselves, nodding. “I’m a cleric of the Everlight, Sarenrae. And this is Grog Strongjaw.”

Oh that is definitely what Vex needs. The Everlight is a goddess of redemption and healing and that’s absolutely the energy needed to combat a fiend and save an enthralled half-elf. It’s hard enough to charm those of elven blood, so the fiend is either powerful or very lucky. Or both. Let’s not hope for that, though.

“Vex’ahlia, ranger of the Tal’Dorei Wilderness Conservation program, stationed in the Alabaster Sierra's outpost,” she introduces herself machinally. “So you’d be willing to help?”

She’s maybe a little too business-minded, but she’s just… tired, and worried about this druid out there all alone and probably in dangerous situations.

“I would need a couple of days of preparation and some more information, but I can probably do something, yes,” the gnome, Pike, replies.

“I sensed them on the western edge of the stone platform Castle Whitestone stands on,” Vex starts explaining. “It’s reachable through a path, but it does require quite the bit of walking.”

The priest, who has been silent for a few moments, shifts, clearing their throat.

“We’re up for walking,” Pike smiles. Grog nods. They seem to be working as a pair. “In two days at dawn? If that works for you.”

It sounds almost too good to be true. She still doesn’t know the name of the priest whose temple she’s come into, but their guests are planning to help her with the fiend. After Father Reynal’s pushback, she was really not expecting much from the Lady’s Chamber.

“That works,” Vex nods. “We will meet at the mouth of the path? If you have a phone number, I could give you the map to it?”

They exchange numbers, the gnome writing out ‘Pike Trickfoot’ with a sparkle emoji as her contact. Vex just puts herself in as Ranger Vex’ahlia. Simple and to the point, she doesn’t know this sunshine of a person. She’s not going to have little personal things in there.

The priest next to them clears their throat again. Vex sends them a look. They seem to be nervous about something. They’ve now cleared their throat many times. They’re either sick or they are uncomfortable. Or, third option, they’re trying to make the gnome and the goliath notice something. Vex’ eyes narrow.

Pike smiles, looking at Vex with a warm glint to her eyes. “I do hope this will be easy work and that we will not risk too much. But we never know, with these things. Keeper Yennen has seen enough of these in his days, haven’t you?” She asks the priest who sighs.

“We’re divine servants,” he says heavily. “All our paths are eventually called to cross with a fiend’s. It comes with the faith, unfortunately.”

Vex keeps watching him. There’s something uneasy about this situation. Pike seems to be referring to something the priest does not want to discuss. Yet another untold horror. This town holds one at every corner. Everywhere Vex looks, she can see one.

“You should leave now,” Keeper Yennen nods.

This feels like déjà vu. Because it is. Once again, Vex is shoved away from a conversation, from knowledge. Once again, she politely takes the cue and leaves. She’s starting to get a little tired of it.

She hopes that, in a couple of days, she can ask Pike a couple of questions about this place.

On her way out of the courtyard surrounding the Lady’s Chamber, someone bumps hard into Vex’s shoulder. She’s seen them coming, with their long blue coat and their brown boots, but she really thought there was space for them to cross without bumping. She curses at the sudden ache that radiates into her arm and chest and whips around.

“I’m sorry!” The person she’s just bumped into says, their right hand raising to rub over their left shoulder, while Vex is rubbing her right one. They seem younger than Vex, about eighteen years old. It’s hard to tell really, with this world they all live in, this world where everyone ages differently at different rates. They seem human, but they could very much be eight hundred years old.

They’re familiar in the same way Father Reynal was. Which makes sense, because Vex saw them at the same place, at the same time, she realizes immediately.

They’re about the same size and stature as Vex is. Their hair is dark brown, almost black, but streaking with white around the temples. They had been standing in front of the Zenith, speaking with Father Reynal, when Vex drove by after her very first supply run.

“It’s all fine,” Vex shrugs.

“Have a good day!” They call out as they rush towards the Lady’s Chamber.

Vex raises an eyebrow at the retreating figure. Two temples at once? Or maybe a new convert of Erathis. Father Reynal did say the worship of Pelor has dwindled in this town.

Everyone she has met in this town, except for the gnome and the goliath, has a strange nervous energy about them. They all seem to struggle with hiding secrets, as if the skeletons are too big to fit in the closets they try to force them in. The truth, or at least the story, of what has happened in Whitestone in the past few years is eager to jump out and reveal itself.

Vex wants to know. After today, there’s no doubt about it. She wants to know about this fiend and about Castle Whitestone. About what happened to the De Rolos and why they’re gone. About the empty temples and the half dead tree in the center of town.

She guesses it’s a little rich of her to want to know and stop people from lying to her, when she’s herself running from the past and refuses to tell anyone her own last name. When she’s trying to hide her own past from herself.

She drives back home quietly, without the radio on. She lets her own thoughts be loud for once, no matter how uncomfortable it is to hear her own self-reflection, to discuss her past and future with this horrible nagging thing that is her own mind.

The sun is setting over the trees, she has a cub to take care of, and she wants to rest. She wants to light a fire, make some coffee and settle by the warmth with the cub napping on her feet.

The loneliness is getting more than bearable, it’s getting enjoyable. She loves the quiet of her cabin in the evenings, when she hears that lone wolf cry out. She’s never heard any other wolf respond to it. Poor creature. She can relate to what it must be feeling.

She does all as planned, gathers her things and makes her fire and settles with a blanket. She brushes out her hair. It’s growing more than it used to. It had fallen a lot when she was in Shademurk Bog, especially in the last couple of months, when it had gotten unbearable. It’s growing again now. She’s growing again.

Right as she’s about to fall asleep, the wolf cries. And to her great surprise, a second cry answers it. She goes to sleep with a smile on her face, and the cub snuggled against her chest. She stopped making him sleep in the crate some time ago.

Vex awakes to a chill and misty forest morning. She sees the fog wrap around the trees. The ones around the cabin are a little thinner, a little younger. The forest itself gets thinner around civilisation, as if to protect its oldest, most precious mysteries with barriers upon barriers of younger fodder.

She’s halfway through her breakfast when the talkie-walkie hisses with an incoming call. The thing that’s not supposed to work, because the other half of the pair of walkies was lost with the previous ranger.

“Hello? Hello, is there anyone here?”

The voice seems a little anxious, a little hurried. Something’s wrong. Vex bolts from her chair and rushes to the dust-covered walkie.

“Ranger Vex’ahlia, speaking. Can you tell me what’s happening?” She asks, forcing her voice to stay calm and soothing.

“Yeah, huh, hi, huh,” the voice continues. “We found this and a body? In the middle of a clearing?”

A body? Vex’s heart freezes in her chest and she forces herself to swallow. She’s trained for this. She needs to call in the local authorities, which she knows to be the Pale Guard. She grabs her phone from her pocket without thinking, ready to dial as she walks.

“Can you tell me where you are?” She responds. “There should be a trail marker within a hundred yards of you, if you haven’t strayed too far from the path. I’ll be there asap.”

The walkie goes quiet then, and she waits with bated breath for the person to contact her back with a position. It takes a few horrible frozen minutes for the receiver to crackle again, and she’s given the coordinates.

“I’ll be there asap,” she repeats. ”I will be contacting the authorities too, so do not be surprised if members of the Pale Guard arrive as well.”

“Okay, thank you,” the voice replies.

Vex volts back, dialing the Pale Guard emergency number that gets her directly to someone without going through any helplines. She slides the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she straps her quiver to her thigh and grabs her bow. She puts her coat on and walks into the foggy morning.

It takes her about forty-five minutes to get to the trail marker she was given. She follows instructions and finds the camp of the person that contacted her quickly. A fire is lit in the center of an encampment of three small orange tents. She notices a crossbow resting against one of the tents’ sides.

“Hello? I’m the ranger you had on the walkie,” she calls out.

Three figures come out of the tent with the crossbow. They’re tall, two humans and a dwarf. One of the humans, tall with blonde hair, has a smaller version of a quiver strapped to their thigh.

The dwarf’s right hand is gloved, and in the glove, they hold the walkie. It’s dirty, with dark stains that Vex already knows is blood.

“Thank you for coming,” one of the humans says.

“I’m doing my job,” she replies. “Now show me the body.”

They take her a little bit further from the camp. The body is half-sat against a tree. The right side of it is burnt to a crisp and the left is wracked by large claw marks. The blood that burst from those wounds has long dried on the intact clothing.

There’s no way Vex can recognize them by looking at their face, half is charred and the other is almost fully melted from the heat, frozen now into a horrifying grimace. No wonder those who found the body sounded so tense on the walkie.

Her eyes fall on the insignia on the mostly intact part of the clothing. She swallows. It’s a triangular shape, of a burnt orange color, with the silhouette of Tal’Dorei in dark green over it. The letters TWC are written in white over the continent. Vex wears the insignia’s twin on her coat.

It’s Regae. It has to be. She doesn’t know of any other people from the TWC in the area, and the body isn’t old enough to be a previous ranger. Regae had been there for fifty years when he disappeared.

She takes a deep breath. “Alright,” she nods. “Thank you for calling me in. The Pale Guard will be here shortly to identify what has happened there.”

The human with the small quiver now has their crossbow in hand, ready to go. Machinally, Vex searches for the crossbow bolts and what they look like. She did make a promise, however unspoken, to the cub, after all.

Her sight falls on the ends of the crossbow bolts, the fletching. The pattern is immediately familiar. It’s the same one as the one she had to pull out of her sleeping cub. Her eyes narrow at the human.

“May I have your name, please?” She asks, trying to keep the anger from her voice. It seems to work, as the human doesn’t look as suspicious as he would have otherwise. She takes an arrow out of her quiver.

“Donavan Clarence,” the human nods.

“I see you enjoy hunting, Donovan,” Vex gestures towards the crossbow. “What kind of game are you after? Are you more of a pheasant type, or do you go after bigger prey? Let’s say, bears for example.”

Her voice is cold as ice now, her hand on her bow, ready to notch the arrow, draw back, and shoot.

The human stares at her intensely. “Why are you asking?” They growl.

“Maybe because it’s my fucking job to keep the innocent creatures of this forest safe from criminals like you,” she shrugs, and draws her bow.

She’s incredibly close to them, and if she shoots, it will hurt. They both know it. She hopes the Pale Guard isn’t far. By killing the mother of the cub, Donovan Clarence has committed a crime. National Parks protect the creatures they watch.

The human looks at her, full of contempt. “You have no idea what you’re doing, half-elf,” they hiss. Their hand drifts to the bolts and Vex’ hand loosens.

The arrow shoots through the hair and goes straight through the palm of the human. They scream in surprised pain. Blood gushes out of the wound and starts streaming down their hand and arm, soaking their sleeve.

Around them, the two others get their swords out, ready to defend their friend. Vex swallows. Okay, maybe she jumped into this one a little too early. With lightning-fast motions, she notches another arrow into the bow.

“You have no right to hurt the creatures of this park,” Vex continues. “The only person allowed to deal with threats in here is me.”

“It was a last minute situation, ser!” The other human tries, but their voice falters with hesitation and Vex knows they’re lying.

The cold eyes of Donovan Clarence and their total lack of remorse is enough to see clearly through this conversation. They had fun killing an innocent bear and trying to kill its cub as well. It was pure cruelty.

“The Pale Guard is on its way,” Vex reminds, taking a step back to encompass all of them in her line of sight. “You have no choice but to surrender. The one who killed the bear, if they’re not the same as Ser Clarence, will probably be arrested for poaching.”

She can see them start to shift uncomfortably. They’re calm for now, but this is not going to continue to be calm if it goes on much longer. Her bow is drawn again.

They stay like this, waiting for one of them to make a move, for what feels like an hour. It’s probably close to a couple of seconds before there’s noise coming from the path and a loud shout of “Pale Guard, put your weapons down!”.

Vex exhales. Thank the Gods for this. She knows she wouldn’t have been able to take down three people. They may not look strong enough to match her one-on-one, but this would have been three-on-one. She wouldn’t have come out of there looking good, if at all.

She gets to explain her point and the Pale Guard believes her. She’ll have to answer more questions in town, but they know what her job is, and she introduced herself when she first arrived. It also seems like Donovan Clarence has been suspected to be a criminal hunter for a long time. They’re just finally able to get some proof of it.

As Clarence and their buddies are taken away, Vex’ attention is violently brought back to the very dead body of the previous ranger. One of the members of the Pale Guard there is now crouched by the body, running spells over it to try and determine cause and date of death.

They get back up and walk back to where Vex is standing, arms crossed, looking quite worried.

“We’ve found traces of fiendish magic on the burnt side of this body,” they explain. “You have a fiend on your hands, ser.”

Vex sighs. “Thank you,” she nods. “I sensed a fiendish presence around Castle Whitestone yesterday.”

The guard looks around. “We’re quite far from the Castle Whitestone, in a completely different direction.”

That’s true, but she’s pretty sure the range of her trance would be enough to find a fiend around this area. “How long have they been dead?”

There’s more looking around and more thoughtful pondering airs on the guard’s face. They’re writing things absent-mindedly on a red-covered notepad.

“With the weather here and all… I would say about four months.”

Four months? That means there’s been a fiend around the forest for at least that long. Vex prays to anyone that can hear that Regae hadn’t been investigating other deaths from the same creature when they found it.

“Would the Pale Guard be able to lend me a couple of people to help defeat the fiend?” Vex asks after a moment.

The guard stares at her. “The Pale Guard isn’t trained to hunt creatures in the Parchwood Timberlands, ser.”

“It’s ma’am,” Vex specifies more out of habit than anything else. “Then who is trained to do that?”

They tense slightly, closing up their little notepad and shoving their hands in their pockets. “That would be the Grey Hunt, ma’am, but they haven’t really been around since…”

Has she stumbled upon another one of those untold stories, again? How many fucking mysteries are there in this godsforsaken town?

“Since what? I’m new here, I don’t know anything about the local history,” she snaps.

“Since the De Rolo massacre.”

Almost immediately after that, their superior calls for the guard she’s been talking to and they’re delighted to escape. Vex curses at the retreating back of the humanoid and stomps one foot in the soft floor of the forest.

The De Rolo massacre. What the fuck happened in this city? Why won’t anyone tell her about it? She can feel her own frustration growing in her chest. She wishes she was a black dragon, so she could spit out that angry acid.

After that, none of the guards seem to want to talk much to her. They pack up the body of Regae to bring it to their lab and verify the readings of the initial spells, and only nod at her goodbye.

She’s left alone in the clearing, with fire burnt out and the tents still fixed into the ground.

#perc'ahlia #fic #mine #vox machina #critical role #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia

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kookitykook · 4 years

Text

Airport Stranger (Jin x Reader)

~genre: fluff, sfw

~word count: 4.7k

~summary: Your flight home for Thanksgiving has been delayed for the umpteenth time, prompting quite the embarrassing call from your mother in the airport waiting area. Lucky for you, the man sitting next to you thinks it's hilarious. And lucky for him, you think his laugh is adorable. Airport hijinks and off-the-chart levels of dorkiness ensue.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah I know, Mom. I know, alright? But there’s literally nothing I can do about a delayed flight, alright?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in between your thumb and forefinger, you let out a long-suffering sigh that you had been saving up for Thanksgiving dinner with your family. Alas, the suffering decided to come early this year.

“Look, unless they delay again, I should be boarding in about fifteen minutes. That’ll have me landing around midnight. Can you still pick me up or … ah, that’s what I thought. No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just get a cab. … Mom, I’ll be fine. … No I don’t have a taser or pepper spray, I can’t just put that stuff in my carry on!”

Suddenly there was a sharp laugh from the guy sitting beside you. You whipped her head to look at him just one seat over. He had the audacity to look right at you as he chuckled, making it obvious he was laughing at your predicament.

Feeling your cheeks reddening, you covered your face with one hand, shifting in the uncomfortable waiting area seat so that your back was to the man you hadn’t bothered to look at too closely beyond his amused expression.

“Mom, I’ve gotta go,” you whispered. “Look I’ll text you when I get in the cab, and I know where the spare key is so I’ll just — no, Mom, nobody is going to follow me to our house for the sake of stealing our spare key! And it’s not like underneath the creepy gnome on the front porch is exactly a prime hiding place!”

At that, the man that was laughing before started to laugh even harder, and you couldn’t help but shift to get a good look at him. He was practically cackling at the one-sided conversation he was hearing, and his windshield-wiper sounding laugh was attracting more attention from the other delayed passengers. He caught your eye and then, like an old man despite the fact that he looked around her age, he literally slapped his knee in amusement.

You couldn’t help but smile at the man even though your overbearing mother was still nagging away on the other end of the line. He was quite tall and slender save for his broad shoulders, which were evident even underneath his large hoody. The hood was pulled up, but you could still see smooth, shiny black hair peeking out. The two of you oddly matched, both wearing comfortable outfits — him with his red hoody and joggers, and you with leggings and an oversized maroon sweater from your college days.

The shouting of your name pulled your from your shameless staring and smiling at your laughing neighbor. You couldn’t help but jump in your seat as your mother’s shriek reached quite the high decibel.

“Yeah, yes, Mom I’m still listening. Look I have to go now, I’ll text you when I land, but for now I’m going on airplane mode, bye!” Your last words were hurried, ignoring your mother’s objections and pressing the bright red ‘end call’ button — your favorite button, truly — and quickly switching your phone to airplane mode before receiving an angry return call.

At this point, the man’s laughter had quieted down and the other irritated, delayed passengers in the waiting area had looked away from his outburst, but he was still looking at you with an amused grin.

Woah, nice smile, you thought to yourself, taking in the twinkling in his eyes and his annoyingly perfect teeth.

“I’ll have you know,” the man said suddenly, making your eyes widen at his boldness to talk to a stranger, “that the last place I would look for someone’s spare key is underneath a creepy gnome.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then you promptly burst into laughter yourself. The man joined you immediately, and you were too tired from all of the travel and your frightening lack of caffeine to care that the two of you were undoubtedly annoying everyone else in the waiting area.

“For the love of all that is good in the world,” you gasped in between chuckles as you both started to come down from your giggle highs, “don’t ever tell my mother that you approve of one of her crazy ideas.”

“Noted,” the man gasped himself, a hand over his chest as he caught his breath. A few seconds passed and you both smiled at each other once again before he reached out across the empty seat between you. “I’m Jin.”

You accepted his handshake with a smile more genuine than anything you had felt in … far too long. “I’m Y/N. Thanks for the laughs, Jin. That rarely happens after talking with my mother, and it was … definitely needed.”

Jin chuckled softly, nodding in understanding. “I get it. Being with family around the holidays usually ends in laughter or tears, sometimes you just have to go with the former. Especially after a six hour delayed flight.”

“That’s the truth,” you mumbled under your breath, gaining another chuckle from Jin as you rolled your eyes quite dramatically. “I don’t know why I thought traveling the day before Thanksgiving was a good idea, and now here we are.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you were doing your best to avoid any extra time at home, even if it meant risking traveling on one of the worst days of the year?” Jin raised his eyebrow knowingly.

“Alright look here, Mr. Psychic Stranger, I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me. I’m fragile from all of the gnome talk.”

Jin laughed yet again and damn, his laugh was the cutest thing you’d ever heard.

“Is that why you’re here on hell night?” you asked, eyebrow cocked.

Jin shook his head, still grinning. “No, I actually had to work up until today, so this was my only option.”

Your eyes widened. “Woah. What do you do?”

“Music production. Well, kind of. I’ve moved from unpaid intern to paid very little intern for a production company, so things are really looking up for me.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners adorably as you barked quite the unattractive laugh at that statement. It was wild how comfortable you felt with this total stranger on what had been undoubtedly one of the worst travel days ever.

“Congratulations,” you finally managed to say, finding yourself leaning over the seat separating them quite a lot. You cleared your throat, sitting up straighter and pushing back the stray hairs that had fallen from your ponytail. Jin’s eyes tracked the movement, something you did not fail to notice.

“What about you?” Jin asked, his voice kind. “What do you do that I’m sure your mother is very proud of?”

You did laugh at that, covering your mouth to stifle the sound. “Oh yes, my mother is beyond proud of her barista daughter who has had her life’s work rejected by not one, not two, but three book publishers.”

“You’re a writer?” Jin asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You blinked at his reaction. Did you not just say that you were rejected by three publishers? “Woah, that’s so cool.”

“Uh, I’m trying to be,” you said nervously, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands and piddling with the tattered material. “Like I said, rejected and all that.”

“Well that just means you haven’t found the right publisher yet!” Jin said, and it was the fact that you could literally hear the smile in his voice that you were able to look back over at him. Unlike yourself, Jin was shameless in how much he was leaning towards you, making it quite obvious that he wanted to continue talking. “What’s your book about?”

Oh no. The dreaded question. You hated when people asked this question, it was always so awkward to talk about your work instead of just showing someone. But Jin’s big eyes and pouty lips — still smiling adorably of course — made you think that he was one of those rare, special people that didn’t really deal in awkward situations.

You smiled, averting your eyes away from his for the briefest second because it was as if his smile was the literal sun or something, when suddenly —

“Passengers of flight 403 to Newark, we regret to inform you that your flight has been delayed until 10:50 PM. The airline would like to express its sincerest apologies and—”

The rest of the airline worker’s voice was drowned out as the entire waiting area groaned, people fishing out their phones to contact their families yet again. All except you, who was pointedly not calling your mother again, and Jin, who oddly looked … pleased at this turn of events.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, rubbing your tired face and briefly noting in the back of your mind that you probably looked a mess in front of Jin. You hadn’t showered in over twenty-four hours, hadn’t brushed your hair or teeth in about twelve, and you could feel that your pores were practically the size of Jupiter. Jin was a stranger that you would probably never see again, but still … a cute stranger. You pulled your hands away from your oily face to glance over at said stranger.

He was looking right at you with the dopiest smile. You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What?”

Suddenly Jin stood up and woah, he was really tall. You had an inkling too that he was probably quite built underneath his comfy clothes. With a grin, he moved to stand in front of you. His hood had fallen all the way back now, and his hair looked soft and shiny even underneath the terrible airport lights.

“Come on,” he said brightly, meeting your eyes without any hesitation. “We’ve got another two hours, and I have it on good authority that there is some absolutely terrible free coffee on the other side of the terminal.”

You raised an eyebrow. This whole situation was … new.

“Why would I want terrible coffee?” you asked, your voice taking on a note of teasing as you crossed your arms and settled further back into your seat.

“Ah, good question,” he responded with a grin, eyes brighter than a starry sky. “Because terrible coffee is factually proven to be better than no coffee.”

“Factually proven?”

“Yes of course. There was some fancy Ivy League study done on this subject somewhere surely maybe sometime.”

“Somewhere surely maybe sometime?”

“Sí. ”

You broke with that, laughing yet again and covering your face with your hand, sweater sleeve still pulled over your fingertips. When you finally looked back up, Jin was looking down at you with what could only be described as the most smitten expression.

“Not to mention,” Jin continued, “the walk to this terrible wonderful coffee will give you the chance to tell me all about your book.”

You chewed absentmindedly on your bottom lip, noting in the back of your mind that your lips were quite obviously chapped.

Jin looked so … genuine. That was the only word you could think to describe him as. Genuine. He really wanted to hear about your book, and get terrible coffee with you when you were just a stranger that he overheard having an embarrassing conversation with their mother.

With a huff and a grin, you stood to your full height, ignoring your popping knees in favor of staring at Jin’s full lips smiling impossibly wider.

“Alright then, Kind Stranger Jin,” you said as you swung your backpack over your shoulders. “Let’s go.”

An hour and a half later, you knew you were in deep trouble. In the back of your mind, you had been somewhat hoping that Jin would turn out to be kind of creepy or awkward or weird so that you would have an easier time not falling for the stranger. But no, he had to go and be … well, practically perfect.

Not actually perfect, of course. Jin laughed way too loud and did not care at all about disturbing anyone else with said laugh. He was clumsy, and tripped three times just walking across the terminal. He had terrible taste in coffee and made slurping noises when he drank. So definitely not perfect.

But also … he was perfect. Kind, attentive, well-spoken, and hands down the funniest person you had ever met. He listened to a bare-bones description of your book with not a trace of judgment, and he even asked good questions about the characters you loved so much. He listened to you vent about your mother and made good-natured jokes to soothe your stress without being insensitive.

He was damn perfect and quite frankly it was pissing you off because you were never going to see him again once you each went your own ways after the flight. This wasn’t a Hallmark movie.

The two of you were making your way back across to the terminal where you would hopefully, finally be boarding in half an hour when Jin sighed quite dramatically all of a sudden, making you chuckle and a few passerby look at you oddly. You found yourself adopting Jin’s attitude and not caring at all.

“What was that sigh for?” You asked, nudging his arm with her shoulder — he was so tall compared to you.

“I hope we get delayed again.”

You practically guffawed at that, almost tripping yourself when you looked up at him in disbelief.

“What?” You asked, heart stuttering as he lightly touched your lower back to help steady you. “Don’t speak that into the universe! Besides, I thought you were excited to see your friends!”

Jin had explained over the terrible coffee that his family was still in Korea and his paid-very-little-internship didn’t exactly allow a budget for traveling to see them for both Thanksgiving and Christmas (and Korean Thanksgiving didn’t even fall at the same time as it did in the States that year anyways), so he was saving that big trip for Christmas.

Instead, Jin would be spending Thanksgiving with a group of his friends from college. He had described them all in detail quite enthusiastically, but you had already forgotten their names because you might have been too busy staring at his bright smile the entire time he had been talking about them. All you remembered was that one of them had a bunny smile (whatever that means), one would probably be president one day, and one pretended to be grumpy with no soul but was actually quite the opposite. They had all sounded wonderful though, and were all annoyingly attractive in the photo he had shown you on his phone.

Of course he had cute friends, too.

“I do want to see my friends,” Jin said quickly. “For sure, they’re my brothers and I miss them, but …”

“But what?” You asked, slowing your stride as your gate came into view. “Don’t tell me. They have a gnome on their front porch, too.”

You expected another loud laugh from Jin at that, but all you got was a low chuckle and him slowing down even more than you had.

“No, Namjoon has a firm no-gnome policy.” For the first time in the past almost two hours, Jin’s whole self wasn’t in the joke. “I just … I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.” Your heart did an unwelcome flip-flop. “I don’t really want this to end.”

You swallowed and licked your chapped lips, and it was only then that you realized you had come to a complete stop. Your gate was in eyeshot, but you and this former stranger who was now the oddest sort of friend as if you’d known him your entire life, were staring at one another.

“I don’t either,” you admitted, unable to tear your eyes away from Jin’s. “I … Jin, actually I— oof!”

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry!”

Jin barely caught you by the arms as a flight attendant ran into you and shoved you forward into him. Your chests were flush against each other and Jin’s hands were quick to keep you upright.

“Are you alright?” The flight attendant asked you worriedly. “I really am so, so sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s okay,” you said with a smile, noting in the back of your mind that Jin was still holding you tightly to him even as you turned your head to the side to address the young woman. “You didn’t mean any harm. Thanksgiving has got to be rough for you guys, it’s really okay.”

The flight attendant released an audible sigh, clearly relieved that she wasn’t about to be yelled at or reported to her airline or something else awful a disgruntled flyer might do.

“I know I’m not supposed to say this, but … Thanksgiving is the worst,” the attendant simply said. Jin and you both chuckled at that. “I’m really sorry again, I hope you two have a good holiday!”

With that, the attendant turned on her heel and rushed away. You watched her go with a sad smile, you couldn’t imagine working for an airline on Thanksgiving.

It was Jin’s hand gently squeezing your arm that had you turning back to him.

Oh, right. Jin is holding me. Sweet Jin that I just met and really like and he seems to like me, too. Right. Right.

“What were you about to say?” Jin asked softly, his hands still holding you practically flush against him. Your breath caught as his thumbs swept over the sleeve of your sweater, an oddly moving gesture of comfort.

“I …”

Over your shoulder right at that moment you heard that same flight attendant from before speaking just loud enough to hear.

“Hi, I’m here to takeover for you guys! … Okay, so twelve economy’s and one premium seat has opened? … Oh, two premium seats, got it. Have you updated the manifest?”

“Y/N?”

Jin’s voice snapped your attention back to him. You had been staring at his face, but listening to the flight attendant.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jin asked once again, seemingly worried now.

“I …” He was staring at you expectantly, face starting to fall right as you turned your head to look over your shoulder and — yepp, sure enough, the flight attendant was at your gate.

With a wicked grin, you spun back around to face Jin so fast he jumped.

“I have an idea,” you said quickly.

“An idea?” he repeated, cocking his head to the side like the cutest, most confused puppy you had ever seen. “What do you — hey!”

As quick as you could, you grabbed one of Jin’s hands in your own, lacing your fingers together tightly as you pulled him into a run towards the gate desk.

“Woah, what are you—”

“Hi!” You said brightly, pulling yourself and Jin right up to the gate desk where the flight attendant from before was now standing. The attendant looked up and smiled back when she saw who it was. Not missing a beat, you placed your and Jin’s linked hands in the attendant’s sight.

“Oh, hello again,” the attendant said. “Are you two on this flight?”

“We are indeed,” you replied, squeezing Jin’s hand as you felt him staring down at you in confusion. “My fiancee and I have been here all night with these delays trying to get home for the holidays.”

Jin squeaked and you just pulled him even closer to you, kicking him in the ankle to keep him quiet.

“Fiancee!” He shouted in affirmation, making the attendant jump and you bite your lip to keep from sighing. “Yepp, fiancee, this is she. I’m quite excited about it, you know I had to ask her twelve times before she said yes.”

The attendant’s eyes bugged out of her head.

“He’s joking,” you said quickly. “I only turned him down six times.”

“I fail to see why you never count the time I proposed underwater. Just because you got bit by a shark while scuba diving in the Maldives does not make that trip any less romantic!”

This guy is an absolute moron, you thought to yourself, trying and failing not to let your laughter show. Fortunately for you and Jin, the flight attendant was laughing outright.

“You two are adorable!” She said with a bright grin. “I’m so sorry you’ve been delayed as long as you have.”

“Us, too,” you said with a pout. “We understand though, everyone here is just doing their jobs and we respect that. We did want to ask though, do you think we’ll be boarding soon? If we’re going to get delayed again, I would rather just call it quits and book a hotel tonight.”

“Which I wouldn’t be opposed to of course,” Jin said quickly, making you look up at him with a glare. “It’s our anniversary, honeybuns, and we’ve had to spend it in the airport after all.”

Oh you clever idiot, you thought, smiling up at him.

“Well yes of course, lovebug, but I know you want to get to your sister’s house soon, the baby is due any minute.”

“That’s true, potato wedge, and she did promise that if I was there for the birth she would name my nephew after me.”

In sync, you and Jin both turned to look at the attendant again, who looked more confused than she had probably ever been in her life. You both smiled sweetly.

“So could you possibly tell us if we’ll actually be boarding this time around?” You asked, giving your most award-winning, prize smile.

“Actually…” the attendant glanced around quickly before leaning in. You and Jin followed suit, shoulders touching. “I just got a call from the pilot, and you all are one-hundred percent boarding in the next ten minutes.”

A breath of pure relief spilled out of you, and it wasn’t for show when you squeezed Jin’s hand tightly.

“Thank you so much,” you said to the attendant. Then you turned and looked up at Jin, not having to use any of your meager acting skills to look smitten with him. “Just four hours and then we’re home, hotcakes. You’ll have to try and survive not sitting next to me that whole time.”

“You’re not sitting with your fiancee?” The flight attendant asked incredulously. You turned to look at her with big eyes, and you saw Jin pouting dramatically in your periphery.

“No, we booked these flights last minute and there weren’t any seats together. We tried to upgrade to business class, but it just wasn’t in our budget this year, you know?”

“That’s because all of the vet bills really piled up this year,” Jin said offhandedly. You pursed your lips together tightly to keep from sighing or laughing — you weren’t sure which. Jin met the attendant’s curious gaze. “Oh, you see our chinchilla Chimmy has cancer. Yepp, in the liver. We think he may have gotten into our alcohol stash one too many times. Alcohol addiction is often hereditary in chinchillas, you know. Chimmy’s father was a deadbeat, so we think that’s where he got it from.”

The attendant blinked while you bit down on your lip so hard it almost hurt. You were falling head over heels for this complete and total moron.

“Anywho,” Jin continued, looking down at you without breaking character for one single second. “We should leave this kind worker to her duties now, lava lamp. Thank you again, ma’am, and happy Thanksgiving!”

“You know what,” the attendant suddenly said, calling the two of you back as you started to turn away. “Look, I’m not really supposed to do this, but … you two are a really cute and … eccentric couple, and you were so nice earlier when I ran into you. Two first class seats beside each other just opened up and if you two wanted, I could upgrade you.”

Jin’s expression of surprise was way more believable than yours, but the attendant still beamed at their reactions.

“Really?” Jin exclaimed. “Wow, that would be so great. I would lose my head if it weren’t for this girl, we would really appreciate that!”

“Yes, thank you so much!” You echoed as the attendant told you and Jin that it was her pleasure and being typing away at her computer. A few seconds passed and then you were being printed new boarding passes.

“You are the best, Lana,” Jin said, accepting their new passes and reading the attendant’s nametag. “We will be giving you the best review on your company’s website.”

“It’s no problem, really. You guys will be boarding with Zone A in about ten minutes!”

“Thank you!” You said once more, waving at Lana as Jin unlinked your hands so that he could sling his arm over your shoulder and lead you over to a pair of open seats at the very back of the waiting area.

The two of you sat down and were silent for about three seconds before doubling over in barely contained laughter. You were clutching your stomach as Jin wiped at his eyes, your antics drawing the eyes of everyone else in your section.

“Shhh, shhh,” Jin gasped. “If she hears us we might get outed!”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, sitting up straight to look at Jin, which only made the pair of you dissolve into even more giggles.

“Oh … oh my gosh,” you gasped, leaning back in your seat to realize that Jin’s arm was over your shoulders once again. You didn’t mind. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

“You are the most brilliant fiancee in all the land, and that’s a fact.”

“And you!” You poked him in the chest, which he looked positively affronted by. “You’re insane! Bitten by a shark in the Maldives? Chinchilla alcoholism? You called me potato wedge!”

“And lava lamp, don’t forget lava lamp.”

That only had you laughing yet again, your chest practically on fire with glee and affection for this insane man that you met only a couple hours prior.

It was a few seconds later that you realized Jin wasn’t laughing anymore. You looked up, cheeks hurting from smiling so much, to see him looking down at you with an expression that could only be described as fondness and affection.

“Where have you been all my life?” he murmured softly.

You stilled. “I think I’ve been waiting for you.”

The air went taut between you, both of your gazes flickering down to the other’s mouth. Just as you started to lean in …

“Do you think your mom would like me?”

You froze, looking up at Jin in confusion. “Um … you know I’ll be honest, that was not what I was expecting to happen just then.”

“It’s just, you know how I said Namjoon has a strict no-gnome policy? This means that when I get to his house in about five hours, there will be no spare key underneath a porch gnome. And he and the other guys sleep like the dead, so I’ll probably end up sleeping on the gnome-less porch because no one will let me in. And it’s so cold outside and I’m too pretty to get pneumonia, let’s be honest. So really you ought to invite me to your mom’s house tonight and then I will repay you the favor by inviting you over to my buddy’s house for Thanksgiving evening to help you escape. But this all will only work if your mother likes me, so — do you think your mom would like me?”

You were painfully aware that you probably looked like a complete idiot staring up at Jin with your mouth open and eyes drawn together, only inches from his face. You were also painfully aware that he was still looking at you with that smitten expression that you just couldn’t get over.

“Honestly?” You finally said, chuckling and choosing to accept the insanity that was Kim Seokjin. “She’ll adore you.”

“Perfect.”

Before anything else could be said, Jin tilted his head down and pressed his full lips firmly to yours. You positively melted at the contact, sighing into his mouth and relaxing into his hold.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it was the sweetest either of you had ever had.

You and Jin breathed each other in, no longer kissing but lips close enough to feel the other smile.

“Do you think your friends will like me?” You asked, out of breath from sheer proximity to this wonderful man.

“Oh they’ll probably all fall in love you,” Jin said with a nod, his hands coming up to cradle your cheeks. He kissed you lightly once more. “I have a feeling I’m going to, too.”

“Attention passengers, first class zone A is now boarding, first class zone A is now boarding.”

#bts fanfiction #bts scenario #jin fanfiction #jin scenario #bts #my writing #this was the first bts fanfiction i ever wrote way back when!

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shadowofthelamp · 4 years

Text

The Smeetening

This was a kofi commission for @lovelycoris! And the title comes from her tag.

Summary: Zim has been gone for four and a half months, and Dib was not expecting what he found when he got back.

Warnings: Mpreg mention

Wordcount: 1920

Dib had to admit, when Zim had been gone for four and a half months, he’d figured he was off in space doing training or something like that. Invaders would do that, right? (He’d told Dib he was going to be gone, but not that it was going to be this long, and to be honest, Dib was getting more than a little twitchy. Skool was so boring without Zim, although he had managed to stake the vampires hunting behind the Krazy Taco.) Or maybe he’d be catching up with old alien friends, if he even had any.

Not…. this.

Dib had picked the lock while his EMP shorted out the gnomes. He’d been doing that about twice a month to see if Zim was back yet, but before now there had been nothing. His motion sensors had caught activity twenty minutes ago from the Voot instead of a random squirrel, and he had to know what had taken so long.

There was a lot of noise coming from the living room, but the curtains had been drawn, and honestly, Gir watched so much garbage TV that pretty much anything could be excused until he actually opened the door to see it. He was almost done when the door swung open by itself. He looked up and heard the computer say “-get it.”

With a full visual of the inside of the base, what he saw was quite possibly the furthest thing from ‘normal’. (Man, Zim really had been here long enough to settle a baseline of ‘normal’, hadn’t he? Time flew...) Zim had on a frilly pink apron, but more importantly, he was hovering over several tiny irkens that were crawling around on a blanket. A particularly dark green one was in Zim’s hand, and he was licking their antennae as they squirmed around, making some noise Dib couldn’t quite hear. That was mostly because one with curly antennae was screeching their absolute lungs out, and Dib slapped his hands over his ears.

“Zim, what the hell is going on?”

Zim looked up, before grinning. “Ah, Dib-human!” He stood up, carefully weaving through the tiny aliens (‘tiny aliens!’ Dib’s brain screamed at him, ‘right in front of you!’) to hold up the one he’d been licking. (Grooming?) “Behold!”

“I’m beholding,” Dib said numbly as he reached up a hand to tentatively hover over them. “Where did you get them?”

“I made them, of course! Hoo boy is that a funny story-”

“You made them?” Dib looked over Zim’s head to see them crawling over each other. “I didn’t even know you could do that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Dib. Secrets of the mighty irken race that I’ve been able to keep secret from your prying-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re superior and all that.” Dib stepped around him to crouch down in front of them. “So you were pregnant?”

“Eh?”

“Pregnant. Or your partner was, whoever they were.” Dib made a rounded motion over his stomach, freezing when one of the babies grabbed his hand. Zim didn’t start screeching at him to let it go, so he carefully settled on his knees to lift it up, cupping his palms. It made a chirp that sounded almost like it came from an old video game. It was a mixture of clicks and of a ‘pew pew’ sound, and was possibly the best thing he’d heard in his entire life.

“Yes, I was. I had the smeets a week ago, and here we are!” Zim settled down cross-legged. “That’s Vi in your hand. She’s one of the quiet ones.”

“Hi, Vi,” Dib said as the baby (smeet, Zim had said?) yawned, showing off her gums. “You’re the quiet one, huh? That’s weird, considering your dad.” He looked up. “So who’s the- er, other dad?”

“Other dad?”

“You know, who helped make them? Unless irkens reproduce asexually, which would be pretty weird for a species as advanced as yours. And besides, they all look kind of different.” Dib looked over the smeets on the blanket- except for maybe one, they all had something that distinguished them from Zim, either in color, antennae, or eyes. Zim cleared his throat.

“I don’t see why that should matter, they’re here now.”

Vi squeaked in his hands and turned, reaching out for Zim, and Zim scooped her out of Dib’s hands. “It’s alright, mean stinky Dib won’t hurt you when Zim’s around.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!” Dib planted his hands on his hips before there was a tug at his pant leg. Another smeet- this one with eyes that looked frighteningly like Zim’s- had gripped it, staring up at him. “You really made all of these?”

“Why else would they be here?”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t put it past you to steal a bunch of babies. You’re weirdly maternal when you get in the mood.” Dib carefully picked the smeet up and it cooed happily, making more of the beepy noises.

“I wouldn’t!” Zim gasped, aghast. “Besides, why would I take this many smeets that weren’t mine? One or two would be perfectly fine, but only I could make nine perfectly healthy ones at one time, thank you!”

Dib petted at the antennae of the one in his hands, and they kept making happy sounds, so he assumed he was doing something right. “So you had all of them at once? They are pretty small, but- geez, how big even were you?”

“None of your business!” Zim snapped as Dib squinted, trying to mentally shove all nine of the smeets back inside of him. Yeesh, he must have been a complete ball. Dib wished he could have gotten a picture. Now that he was really examining him, though, he could definitely see that Zim looked softer than before. His uniform top was just a bit tighter around the middle, and as Zim shifted, his hips looked larger than usual. Huh. So Zim wasn’t just pulling this out of his ass, he really had…

“Wait, how long even is irken gestation? You were gone for four months and seventeen days, how on Earth-”

“It wasn’t anywhere on Earth,” Zim scoffed. “And it was long enough, obviously.”

“There wasn’t anyone on Earth, right? Skoodge left a while ago, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he stopped living in my base. That was years ago, Dib, keep up.”

“Ga!” The smeet reached up for Dib’s mouth, curling surprisingly tight fingers around the bottom lip. Dib tried to gently pull it away, but it just clung tighter. As if on cue, two more of the smeets started crawling on top of him, like he was some kind of human jungle gym for them. Zim started snickering.

“It seems that Jash likes you, Dib-worm.”

“Ah tol’ ‘ou- ey!” Jash’s grip tightened as one of his siblings started flicking the buckle on the front of Dib’s boot. The other was just staring up at him and using his pant leg to stand on wobbly legs. They had wide, fascinated eyes, and Dib couldn’t help but feel a little twinge in his chest.

Dammit, why did baby aliens have to be the cutest things ever? He was only a mortal man, and he wasn’t made of stone, no matter how much he tried to remember that they were Zim’s and were thus at least 50% pure hellion.

“Keep this up and I might bring out the freeze ray to make a Dib-statue and let them learn motor skills.” Zim was still grinning, with the smeet with curly antennae had been screaming in his hand. He was running his thumb up their belly and they were making the same happy-noises as Jash had been. Huh, maybe they had just really wanted attention. He knew he’d hate to be one of nine siblings, Gaz was more than enough.

“Hey, one just crawled under the- come on!” Jash grabbed his glasses in an attempt to climb up his face and nearly pulled them off before Dib adjudged them. “What do you want, huh? Huh, little guy?”

Jash lifted his hands up, opening and closing his fist. “You’re already up, what do you- oh, okay, you’re climbing on my face again.” Dib pulled Jash away from his nose before he stuck a hand up it, setting him on top of his head instead. The smeet started batting at his hair lock, and it kind of tickled.

“I’ll have to clean him,” Zim said, clicking his tongue as he reached under the couch, cheek smushing the tile before pulling one of the smeets out by the scruff of their neck. “That is, unless you’ve improved in your bathing habits since I’ve been gone.”

“Hey, I’m getting better about that! I think!” Dib protested, looking down without turning his head to see that the same smeet as before was still playing with his shoe buckle. “How long are they going to be this size?”

“Eh, ten to fifteen years, give or take a few months?”

If Dib had been drinking something, he would have spat it out. “What?”

“They’ll be speaking within the next few months, of course, and it will be nice to have some intelligent conversation besides you.” Zim was intently watching the group on the blanket, blowing raspberries at a little gaggle of them. They let out high-pitched laughter, especially when he lifted them one at a time to repeat the action directly on their bare bellies.

“Oh, right, Paks probably speed things up, huh? You’re going to have your hands full, though. And I thought Gir was enough. Where is he, anyway?”

“In the lab. He isn’t allowed near the smeets until I can make sure he won’t hurt them. And I can handle anything, I am Zim!”

“You’ve somehow survived six and a half years on a planet that actively tries to kill you, so you probably can,” Dib admitted. Jash started squeaking, so Dib carefully pulled him off his head and set him down next to the one messing with his boot. After staring at each other a moment, Jash started tugging on their antennae instead, and they began rolling around, pulling at each other’s mouths, arms, and antennae. Their beepy sounds were excited and when they fell apart, they had big baby-grins on their faces.

Dib scooted a little closer to the blanket, and one with purple eyes stared up at him. Their antennae were curled- maybe they were female? That could be a sex-linked trait, Tak had had curly ones too, hadn’t she?- and they set a hand on his foot before smiling.

Yep, there went his heart. Melted right out of his chest and into a puddle on the orange and red tile.

“I wouldn’t mind babysitting, you know.”

“I told you, I can handle anything! And if you start poking and prodding at them-”

Dib made an ‘X’ over his chest. “Cross my heart, I won’t hurt them. You can even tell the computer to watch to make sure I don’t do anything, but nine is a lot. I can’t imagine irkens raised their kids completely alone. I’m not going to hurt kids.”

Zim narrowed his eyes, but when the one at Dib’s feet chirped up at him, he tapped his chin.

“Perhaps. But I’ll be watching you.”

Dib carefully stroked a hand over the surprisingly flexible antennae of the one at his feet, a smile growing on his face. He knew he was probably signing up for disaster, but hey, what was life without a little chaos? “That’s fair.”

#iz #shadow writes stuff #mpreg cw #iz blogging #lovelycoris #zim #dib #invader zim

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jamiebluewind · 4 years

Text

Charatcter Descriptions and Summary 2.13

As always, let me know if I need to edit or add anything and tag/ask/PM me about art and stories so I can check them out! I'll try to add warnings later. Also, we have 8 episodes left including this one, so the last one should be number 20.

***

Things

Dusk Moss

Hallucinogenic moss with very few alchemical properties that puts the user into a state of lucid dreaming where they are also concious of waking world (basically fantasy marijuana)

Is a flammable powder that cannot be unlit once lit

Crumpkin said his brother swears by it and that everyone should try it at least once.

It will even you out if you take a little bit and a quarter of teaspon will send one of them on a trip all day (so what about the size and race of the person?)

Can buy in a massive block from Tinkerer's Hall where a dose of the powder can be shaved off the block to use

Mystery Rune

The rune was abjurative magic: metamagic school (instead of protection, wards, and shields) which shapes the nature of magic itself. Specifically, the rune involved curses and a way to mask powerful curses and spells. One can take a tremendous amount of spellcraft (or the ability to cast multiple spells), put it into a curse, and have the curse ride under other curses. In other words, if connected to an object, the object would have been "cursed" to be a vessel for a wealth of other spellcasting (flash drive), but hidden under another curse (advanced encryption and a virus).

The larger and more permeable the curse, the more able it is to ride under another curse.

The curse on top (dummy curse) works best the more widespread, static (can't be easily ended or doesn't have random frequent spell effects), ambient, and passive it is like using a magical landscapes or creatures instead of a spell made by a spellcaster.

***

PCs With Datemates

Kristen

Took a picture on her crystal of the unknown goddess mural (originally wondered if it was a tequila advertisement)

Kissed Tracker and the tree she was hiding behind

Wanted rosé with the cold fratatas, but thought it was weird that he put both kale and spinach in them (as did Tracker)

Looked through the medical papers Adaine and Riz found and figured out how to cure the Kalina infection (greater restoration due to studying records or a tinsure that requires dusk moss, the alchemical supplies Gorgug got from the tinkerers, some things Adaine can pull from her jacket, and one or two things they'd only be able to find beyond the wall)

Her and the group decided on the tincture method despite the risk of curing behind the wall as she can only cast greater restoration once per day (only one 5th level spell slot and 5 infected: Tracker, Sandra Lynn, Ragh, Riz, and herself), but the option of using greater restoration on herself and Riz while leaving the others behind or inside Van was discussed (side note: could she team up with any of the locals bards/clerics/druids/artificers/celestial warlocks who know greater restoration and teach them the specifics of the altered spell while they wait on the others to get back?)

Suggested they pretend they all died after they take the tincture in order to give them an advantage due to Kalina thinking the party was cut in half (all but Adaine agreed)

Owns little handcuffs with her and Tracker's initials on them

"I don't know why I'm saying this, but Go Ball."

Assumed that the team in hell were just stuck in a waiting room, possibly drinking pina coladas

Investigated where Aelwen, Adaine's mom, and Killian entered the briar wall. It was much more tangled, far from Arborly, up a cliff with difficult rocky terrain between them and the temple. It was a place where they wouldn't be looked for, but it would take them longer to get there.

Tracker

Said the thing with Vraz made her werewolf issue with the Shrine of Thorns the second weirdest thing that's happened

Started transforming after glancing at the uncovered mural image of the unknown goddess, growling as half her head transformed as she fought changing before rolling off and hiding behind a tree (per Kristen's suggestion)

Couldn't go to hell because she couldn't enter the shrine

Gorgug

Got springs put in his shoes by the gnomes which gave them thick rubbery soles (Spring Coiled Sneakers of Bounding) and also asked for shock thing from tinkerers which would have a spare the dying effect (unknown if he got it)

Wears size 19 canvas shoes

Looked through a big log book with the alchemic ingredients in tinkerer's shorthand before buying the same alchemical ingredients that Killian bought (magnesium, antimony, and mercury which are used in magical candles) for 350 gold. Killian also bought two huge blocks of dusk moss incense (600 gold for both which he split cost wise with Fabian), but he was nervous about buying it (dusk moss details above).

Explained cell towers to the tinkerers

Considered jumping into space to either get to or place a satellite

Found a picture of his parents launching their satellite into space (Wilma and Digby giving double thumbs up, the van tipped on it's nose with it's back doors open to launch the satellite from the back of it, a lot of papers and a mobile desk in van's glovebox) and found space tech-esk routing info for the satellite in Van which allowed him to make a satellite phone

Originally left his crystal and the info with the tinkerers (original timeframe 1-2 days), but came back to help which speed up the process

Was curious why Gilear wasn't infected by Shadow Cat like Sandra Lynn and was later sorry he brought it up

When they found out they couldn't enlarge/reduce Van, he considered making a massive vest with massive pockets he could wear that everyone could jump in before they used enlarge/reduced on him, but the idea was scrapped

Suggested that if they played dead after taking the tincture to not warn Gilear so he wouldn't be acting when they "died".

"Hey, this is based on nothing, but I feel like Gilear is dead."

Believed that hell wasn't as bad as people said it was, just unfamiliar and like 5 degrees hotter

Ran into the briars after the portal closed

Likes a hot hot tub because warm ones just makes him wonder what's cooking in there

Was up all night sweating with his hoodie off (first time in a long time) working on his phone before finishing up the crystal pack (made his phone into a satellite phone). He felt pretty good about making it work.

Got a slew of unread messages once he turned his phone on (few old ones from Zelda, some from his parents checking in, and tour stuff)

Called Zelda with a video call, putting his hoodie back on as it rang and rang (most of the call is in Zelda section)

Told Zelda he loved her for the first time (after she said it first). Said he wished he was there, but hadn't figured that technology out yet and admitted that he might not have service once they went into the forest ("I'm here to communicate")

The gnomes erupted into cheers over the crystal working, but he was equally exciting over Zelda saying she loved him. They popped some gnome wine (pink fizzy champagne that smelled like cloying sweet strawberries) and shared it with him in celebration

Got a bunch of DMs from the other seven maidens saying "Way to go big guy"

Zelda

Was at Ostentata's house at night for a party (everybody was telling the story of when Gorgug jumped the fire elemental there and when he backyard wrestle smashed the beer pong table while time was stopped) when Gorgug called

Told her adventuring party he was calling before she went outside, but they followed

Answered her phone while still wearing her earbuds and assumed he was back, but was told he figured out how to make his phone work. He did it because he felt like it was important to be able to talk to her, the world, and her (not because it was part of the quest). She asked if they had cell towers, but Gorgug said that he had been working on artificer stuff and used his parents' satellite.

Started crying over Gorgug doing a whole bunch of new science to make his phone able to call back, apologized to him over getting upset, and said she missed him and he was the best

Was embarrassed by the other maidens eavesdropping (they called out "Good lookin out Gorgug! Stand up thing to do! You did it!"). Gorgug went on speaker and said "Well hello guys!" before she shooed them off to talk to her boyfriend

Made sure that Gorgug's friends weren't in danger over him working on his project, but was reassured that he was having down time and it would also help them in the long run

Told Gorgug that she loved him for the first time and freaked out (insulting herself) before he said that he loved her too. This was followed by her saying "oooh I just wanna... I just wish you were here."

Said the Red Waste was super hard, but they were done and thought they would get a good grade on it

Called Gorgug cool (and was called cool by him). Said what he did meant a lot to her. The call ended with one last quick I love you from Gorgug.

Fig

Subpoenaed to be a witness for Gortholax before a tribunal due to him being negligent for his infernal domain (after his 9th and final request for appearence lapsed). The print of her subpoena got so fine that it was mostly illegable without a magnifying glass. It was also in infernal (which she can read)

Asked Vraz if she could leave the door to hell open with them following later (left open, but was yelled at)

Considered disguising herself as Gortholax and offered to disguise herself as a famous lawyer from billboards to help Gilear

Wanted to know more about law so she could defend Gortholax domain and yelled "THE CHOSEN ONE!" when she discovered that Gilear knew the law

Wanted to start a grass roots campaign about the demons working with the nightmare king (as devils hate them both)

Asked her mom why Gilear wasn't infected and discovered her parents had slept together many times, but not in the last 3 years

Got upset with Riz over his opinion on devils (quote in dialogue link)

Had to be the first through the portal to hell, but straddled the flaming doorway with Riz on her back to try to keep it open

Tied a rope around Hangman so she could wakeboard while smoking a clove, library card behind her right ear

Thought Gortholax's home was tasteful and knew the door code.

Blamed herself for the quality of Gilear's life (quote in dialogue link)

To Vraz "What going on with you? Do you need a hug?"

Lit a cigarette in court, told them that Gortholax was trapped in a gem, put her feet up, and said Kalina the Shadow Cat used a proxy to trap Gortholax with the assistance of demons (but was able to hide the fact that she was the proxy from Vraz)

Asked for help getting into the forest of the Nightmare King, but got yelled at because calling a recess does not mean the trial is over

Cut her arm and offered the tribunal her blood as proof she was Gortholax's daughter, but the blood sizzled when it hit the ground and either summoned or created an imp which served as proof

Ayda

Told Adaine what the rune was (details below)

Still working on plane shift

Got upset over Fig getting sucked into hell, insisting that they had to go rescue her "Well, we should do whatever we can to make it happen as fast as possible because I'm going to get another kiss, whatever happens"

Said Fig's lips are the softest things she's ever felt (grossing out Adaine) and "If I don't smell Fig's hair again, I'm going to incenerate"

Asked Adaine for advice as the Oracle, wanting to know how many potential futures there were were Fig wouldn't want to kiss her or be around her anymore and if they could be avoided. She was also worried that Fig might have kissed her, but not felt attracted to her.

"If we kissed a bunch of times over the course of an hour, does that mean we are girlfriends or wives?" (potentially but ask to clarify)

Was worried that she would look sad, weird, or not normal from a social standpoint for asking Fig to clarify if they were girlfriends (to which Adaine said she was not and was in face very very cool).

Worried about her mind being foreign to other people and despite not being the same as Adaine, felt better after talking to someone who understands not being like everyone else.

Told Adaine "You're a very special person to me and your friendship means the world to me. I hope we study magic together for a long long time" and that she loved her.

Has notes on how her brain works and built an entire friendship section in the library because she was so lonely.

Went to the Synod to be alone because she lived "on a dirty pirate island"

***

Other PCs And People In The Party

Adaine

Released an aura in the crime scene and might have put on gloves

Found the non detection runes her mother had placed (to keep elves off the trail) and the remains of two rituals, one to kill Killian and one to put the Devil's Heart (with Gortholax) inside Killian. The rituals happened 24 hours appart, meaning they left the night the teens arrived or her mom knew to kill Killian before Aelwen arrived.

While looking for something in the room (something nice her mom might have said about her), she found a blank piece of parchment on a small desk and revealed a message using "the pencil trick" ("Aelwen is with me. You are betrayed. You have no other choice darling. Come with us.") which she believed was probably for her dad. Later got the original copy (wrote out for a sending spell) by using mend on ashes she found in a trashcan

Suggested a cold fratata picnic

Pulled beautifully printed pamplets out of her jacket for Fig's grass roots campaign, but they had a typo so she tossed them

Told the group to give a thumbs up to someone who had the message spell (currently only Fig and Adaine) if they had something to say to keep it from Kalina

Was caught by briars and ejected from the hell potral, keeping her from entering, but decided that heaven and hell were just reflections of each other so she wasn't worried

On dusk moss, said "I've heard it's good for anxiety." and suggested that they all got high while waiting on their friends to return from hell (but was unable to convince the others)

Discovered that the unknown goddess' spellbook had a distinguishing mark on it, an occult rune that was in a lot of stuff at Compass Points (which Ayda would have studied) and on the coin given to Kalvaxus (more info under mystery rune)

Liked a hot tub that started off very warm at first and then got more comfortable

Messaged Ayda late at night for help "Avast ye scurvy devil. How is plane shift going? Also, need info on rune. It looks like [x]" (answered back "I'm not a scurvy devil. Let's use the synonym. Right jacket pocket.")

Found a key made of glowing blue crystalline energy in her pocket as the keyhole on a nearby door started glowing slightly blue.

Was given a scroll with a first level spell by Ayda that granted her access to the Synod of Spyre which is a meeting place for wizards

Told Ayda "I think your great", made her laugh by telling her that curses were "ten a penny", and told her that she enjoyed talking to her about their magic as Ayda is someone who gets it and is not mean to her

Asked Ayda to tell her everything (about the kiss), but then realized that she didn't want or need to know everything. She did say (about Ayda and Fig) "I support this. I am happy about it. I am amazed. Oooo she's secretive!" and that while on a macro level, some people will kiss without caring, Fig wouldn't because she cared about everybody (she did kiss those two older guys though?)

Admittedly that being oracle only let her help out a little every day and occasionally she got a terrifying vision, but she doesn't know when the event will occur or what will cause it

To Ayda, "If you like a person and they like you and the relationship is good, it shouldn't matter how other people feel about it? I think."

"I want to be alone and also surrounded by my friends at all times."

Riz

Worked the crime scene in the Owl and Harp with Adaine (putting on gloves before starting)

Found that the rituals were specifically to get Kalina into Silvar by bypassing the need for permission from a devil authority by using petrismosis to move from an infected creature into a gem to commandeer the devil within it

Petrismosis: The body's ability to start having elements of the magical gem within it to start permiating orgainic membrane; the process of an organic body and gem to become one which includes osmosis of blood to gem (ragh mom constrantly fights against the being within her gem using her rage, blood, and soul)

Told Adaine "It's great to fin- be around someone who just focuses up. Me and you? Everybody else is super horny. Super emotional. But me and you? *slaps hands together* No emotions between the two of us." (she was looking for something nice from her mom)

Discovered that Adaine's mom had packed WAY more rations than they needed to get to the temple, some alchemical ingredients, and all primary work, leaving only hints behind as well as some research and medical diagrams (which Adaine and Riz took). The medical diagrams were extremely old velum grave robber level medical stuff written in a character based pictogram language (think hieroglyphs, almost like emoji) that was most likely centaur. One medical diagram was of a disected and dismembered centaur with dark, very scary looking cat symbols (refered to as the disease or infection) behind eyes, in ears, on tongue, deep in sinuses, and on spine. It also showed that the brain was carefully taken apart and looked at, but the infection was not present there.

He and Adaine deduced that Kalina could only look through one person at a time using their senses and couldn't get into their brains, but could cause paralysis. The only safe place would be the moon haven/Kristen's hallow, but Kalina might be able to ride one of the infected into the haven if she was actively trying to do it. They could however talk anywhere using telepathy (such as the message spell).

Was worried about going to hell while infected, but later said "I meantioned that I was concerened about going to hell and her possibly being able to see the trial, but hell is also bad so I don't really care if they end up fighting and killing each others. Let's just go to hell. Also, they're super far along already. They have Gortholax and they're in. So it's not like... yeah."

Might have internalized racism/goblinphobia and has bias towards devils (both from his reactions in this episode and his reaction to Gortholax in season 1)

Suspicious of devils and doesn't think they should be super cool with them (quote in dialogue link), later becoming upset over what Hangman said about goblins ("Oh like goblins have such a great reputation.") and the others reaction to his and The Hangman's statement.

Road into hell holding onto Fig's back.

Upon seeing Gilear knocked out, said "See I told you that hell was bad! I mean, this is awesome, but this is bad." Pointed out the irony of Gilear getting mad at him a long time ago for stealing the first aid kit that gave him the healing feat.

After Hangman said the evil souls were murderers, thieves, and liars, he started sweating and said "Liars huh?" (side note: Riz has actually done all three)

Grabbed Gilear's face and investigated him to figure out why he was so confident (he said no to an offer from Sandra Lynn). Hissed at Gilear and then apologized, saying they were in hell, it was weird, and the things said about goblins earlier made him feel kinda crazy

Hissed at Vraz repeatedly, even after she threatened him.

To Vraz "Well I'm Riz The Ball and I'm just gonna ROLL WITH THIS! We're here! We're here for your trial thing! *hiss*" Is held back by Gilear while Fig tried to push him forward towards Vraz (told her to stop it)

Hissed at Vraz again (when she was mean to Fig) saying Vraz calling somebody in the middle of a trial was weird before the pair got in another hissing/screaming match. Asked The Hangman to hold him back and got his foot run over.

Fabian

Ownes 250 to 312 pairs of shoes (depending how many have been thrown away or given to childen), has size 5 feet (and is self conscious about it), said he had delicate feet and was lithe and dexterous, and his father had small feet and mother had normal sized feet

Said "god damn it" when he discovered Krumpkin wore the same size shoes as him, lied and said he had big toes and wore a 5.5 because he didn't to exchange shoes with a gnome, and quietly said "...let's go" when Gorgug asked if he wanted little bells on his shoes (side note: was he teased in the past?)

Completely confused by tinkerers logbook, so he deferred to Gorgug. Tried to help by rubbing his sheet on the gold coins they were buying supplies with, but nothing happened

Was nervous about buying or using dusk moss, saying he knew a guy who tried it while wearing a hat and now he always felt like he's wearing the hat. Told the rest of the group "We bought so many drugs." when they dot back.

Fabian's bardic "You feel the power of Fabian's support and care for you" (the explanation of his new stats is linked below)

When asked if he wanted to stay in the Tinkerer's Hall, he answered "Absolutely. With all these weird little men and women. No thank you. Ragh, let's go!"

Has a bunch of private stuff on his phone that he doesn't want anybody seeing

Tried to ride Hangman into hell, but caught by the briars and ejected as the portal closed

Told Hangman "You are literally the sweetest meanest thing ever."

Mutters "Go off The Ball, go off" while Riz was in a different dimension from him (yelling at Vraz in hell)

Said he didn't worry about his father as he was thriving, but he missed him. When told he could get word to him, originally assumed Bill would be busy, then agreed but asked Hangman not to be needy about it, then tried to pretend that he was cool either way and that he didn't need it and it wouldn't fill him with joy, then admitted that it would fill him with joy, and finally just asking "yes please do it"

Likes a warm hot tub due to it being better for his skin and he can stay in there longer

(Multiple quotes can be found in the dialogue link below)

Hangman

His presence (a devil) closed the portal to hell, seperating him from Fabian. He could still talk to Fabian telepathically, but freaked out. When asked to turn it down, he replied "I can't turn it down, I'm sad!"

Said that the portal was created for the dark tribunal and afterwards the devils are required to deposite them from where they came from

Gave Gilear his mark by making his eyes glow dark red pinpricks and etching an infernal ruin of blood and fire on his forehead

Got pissed off over Gilear having to ride on him, but did it to stop his complaining. Meanwhile, Riz also road on him (with a "Huzzah!") and Fig tired a rope around him so she could wakeboard on her skateboard behind him

Approved of Riz hissing at Gilear

Said the souls falling into The Bottomless Pit were evil and of murderers, theives, and liars

Got the tribunal to allow them to stay at The Bottomless Pit (as Fig was both Gortholax's daughter and she had passage there) instead of prison

When he was told only Fig was going to go in the hot tub, he pouted and said "I want to go too!"

Offered to send word to Bill Seacaster for Fabian

Gilear

Made fratatas (with both spinach and kale) immediately, but they all got very cold due to the teens being away for hours (were so cold that they thought he put them in the freezer)

He was not "the face" when he worked in Fallenel at the elven counsel (where he said he was a glorified paralegal), but was still an expert in international and interplaner law

When Fig told him that it was his moment and she needed him, he immediately replied with "Nope!". He eventually gave his word to help, but was confused about how they got into trouble in Arborly, discovering the trial was both in hell ("what? what? oh no.") and delivered by a really keyed up woman who was probably working through something ("I...what have you done?")

From Adaine's jacket, was given a barrister wig from Fig ("None of the cultures I've worked for use these wigs"), a gavel from Kristen, and a black robe from Adaine

Found that the subpoena had no clause concerning ther souls, but hell would send people to get Fig if she didn't go

Wears boat shoes and had a powerful aura of disease coming from his feet (again Gilear DOCTOR! or have a healer greater restore!)

His bald spot was hit by a bit of fire before a blast of fire hit him and knocked him out, setting his wig on fire. He was healed by Riz, but left with burns.

Was given the Mark of The Hangman, which was an infernal ruin of blood and fire etched on his forehead which caused a red force field to appear that protected him from the fire as long as he was with The Hangman

Noticed how Fig was acting (library card behind ear) and started asking her questions, but she dodged them until Riz confronted him about his confidence and got him to confess "I got confidence because Sandra Lynn asked to sleep with me and I said no!" Said that he and Sandra Lynn talking until morning and towards the end she made an offer, he said "No. Thank you", and everyone was still happy and fine afterwards

Told Riz he was very scary and intense sometimes, resulting in Riz hissing at him

Did not actually help during the trial due to fear.

(Has multiple quotes in dialogue link.)

Sandra Lynn

Covered for the teens messaging by talking about finding where Adaine's mom entered the forest as the teens nodded along

Had to explain to her daughter that her and Gilear slept together, but she could have gotten the Kalina disease anytime in the last 3 years and Gilear wouldn't have been infected ("I love you. It's weird. Sorry for all this weird info.")

On Kristen attempting to handcuff her "So help me god Kristen Applebees. I understand that I work for you, but so help... wow."

No longer with Jawbone, but ended on good terms

Was very kind to Gilear the first night in Arborly. She offered to sleep with him at one point and was turned down.

When she asked what the teens were messaging about (dusk moss), Kristen said Spring Break and suggested Sandra Lynn have a spa day with a hot tub soak and a massage with cucumbers on her eyes. Gorgug suggested cucumbers on her ears. Fabian said they should get the weird gnomes to pound her (dear god Fabian! XD) with Kristen saying "gnomes all over your body", Adaine adding that they would walk on her back, and Fabian adding that the little shoe bells would be meditative

Ragh

Asked for a lost spring from the tinkerers

Wears a size 17.5 shoe (quote in dialogue link)

Was paranoid about buying dusk moss (ARE YOU A COP!?), but after Crumpkin's reaction, he grabbed Fabian and Gorgug's arms and said "I think drugs are legal here"

Took a solid chunk of dusk moss and was found staring at his hand ("My hand is just little animal on the end of your arm")

Came into the van later, shirtless and looking like he'd sweat ten gallons. Said "Everything in the world is connected", (on Adaine thinking of trying it) "Adaine, for real? I can never be anxious again because I don't even know if I can ever be fully in my body again.", and (response to Fabian saying it sounds scary) "No no. I'm part of the universe dude" before drinking a glass of water and going off to go to bed.

***

Gnomes

Crumpkin Springbill

Head Tinkerer of the Tinkerer's Hall of Arborly

Confused as to why anybody would be mad about people buying or using dusk moss

Told Gorgug that it would take a long time and a lot of materals to build a cell tower

Size 5 shoes (but likes a little toe room) with curled toes so he can puts little bells on them (sounds like the general style of shoes for the gnomes there as well)

Said hello to Zelda enthusiastically over a video call

Polly Pullypad and Osmand Wobbletrouble

Accidentally flew into where they stacked all the old pots and pans (Polly)

Brought Gorgug his altered shoes back and bowed to Gorgug

Asked to examine Gorgug's crystal in exchange for the spring shoes (Osmand)

Suggested they try to skip building a cell tower and connect directly to a satellite

(Unnamed Twins)

Shallower cone hats with tufts of fur on the ends of springs

Took gorgug shoes off his feet

***

Devils

Vraz the Mean

Sarcastic erinyes with a +13 insight and a beautiful but uncannoy vally porcelain face with a beauty mark

When Fig and Kristen asked if she could leave the door open so they could follow "Are you guys having a fun time? BECAUSE YOU SEEM PRETTY FUCKING GLIB! Keep your sass to yourself!", but still left the door open

Got hissed at by Riz a lot (multiple quotes in dialogue)

Said she is having a bad time between her title (Vraz The Mean), species (Erinyes), running hell, and her title (Arch Secretary)

Called the tribunal into order (with her two co-jurors in a room with a small 3 seat judges bench), stating that it concerned the issue of Gortholax's infernal negligence

Tried to call her boss Blozo, but he couldn't come due to traffic

Found that being trapped in a gem counted as extenuating circumstances and he would not be punished, but they needed a new regnant for the Bottomless Pit so they called a recess while they consulted the bylaws.

Yelled at Fig for asking for help after the recess saying (in a durr voice) " *points at temple* Do you know what words mean!? Do you know what words mean!? *jacking off motion* Huh?"

Was going to imprison "the mortals", but was convinced by Hangman to put them under house arrest at The Bottomless Pit

Kystrona (Ky-stron-ah) The Chained

Vaguely humanoid figure that is just like

A person with chains coiled where arms would be as well as the torso and head, making a massive mound of chains

Moved with a lot of strain (including trying to shrug) and voice is muffled from all the chains

Lorzug (lore-zug) The Impaled

Bone thin naked person with incredibly pale skin and translucent vains all over

Impaled through the stomach about 10 feet up a jet black iron spike as they kick and scream

Only responded with screams

Retch Rot

Tiny blood red imp with a scorpion tail summoned by Fig's blood (calls her mistress)

Might look like a red Boggy with really long legs for his size (Ally wondered if he looked like "a really famous mouse", including suspenders, but I personally give Emily's description more weight as she is in fact in hell as Fig)

Valet to Fig while in the Bottomless Pit

Wanted to show them to their quarters and the many doors of The Bottomless Pit (but had to make it clear that the doors were just rooms in the pit and not portals)

***

Other Stuff From 2.13

***

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[To be added]

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 quotes #d20 character descriptions #d20 descriptions #descriptions #vraz the mean #krumpkin springbill #retch rot

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ink-and-flame · 5 years

Text

Kinktober Day 4: Mechagon Tryst

Kinktober Day 4 Prompts: Dilation || Dildoes || Orgasm denial Fandom: Warcraft, World of Warcraft Tags: Exophilia, Dilation, Dildos, Orgasm Denial, Cock Worship, Size Differenc Pairing: Gnome(f)/Goblin(m)

[Jenna Sparkspanner / Nak Fizzleknob]

Mechagon was a weird place for everyone that wasn’t native. Horde and Alliance alike were forced into close quarters and told to behave. At first tensions were high and it seemed like getting along just wasn’t in the cards. However, more and more different individuals realized that this was an opportunity. Those with curiosities about the races that were their enemies now had access. They could share space, ask questions, learn about each other, even share experiences. One of the more popular experiences to share was sex.

Since they were encouraged to get along the races of both the Horde and Alliance used it as an excuse to ease some of their sexual curiosities and kinks. It was interesting to see the different mixes and trying to do the math on some of the more unusual couplings. How a gnome and a tauren could even attempt penetration was a question more than a few got asked. Yet the most common pairing cropping up, were gnomes and goblins. Having similar intellectual pursuits, conversations turned to competitions, and competitions turned to pairs sneaking off to ‘settle bets’.

Jenna Sparkspanner had heard more than a few stories and rumors about goblin males to catch her interest. The most common rumor being that male goblins were not proportional sexually. In that their genitals were quite large when compared to the rest of their form. The joke term floating around was tripod. Something that made Jenna giggle when she thought about it too much, it also got her blushing.

It was how she found herself on the goblin side of one of the common work areas. She of course employed subterfuge, the excuse of wanting to help as her own experiments were failing. The welcoming, if somewhat crass nature of the goblins was surprising. She had expected sneers, maybe even a bit of meanness, but overall, the goblins she was now working with seemed rather pleasant and welcoming. That wasn’t to say that all goblins were so nice, but this group seemed to be rather eager to work with other like minded individuals and race didn’t really matter much to them.

Over the next few weeks Jenna found herself working closely with a few different goblins, but only one had managed to catch her interest. Nak Fizzleknob was a whip smart and yet quite laid back. Nothing really seemed to rile him, he just went with the flow no matter what happened. If something failed he shrugged it off and tried again. Nothing seemed to bother or upset him in the least. That more than anything had Jenna crushing a bit.

It also didn’t hurt that Naz was quite attractive. He had the same sharp pointed features most goblins had, but they seemed softer somehow. His eyes were bright purple, and so welcoming. Despite his sharp teeth, Jenna found his smile to be gentle and friendly. She wanted to run her fingers through his dark spikey hair to see if it felt as soft as she hopes. However, it was his body that had Jenna shamefully touching herself each night to thoughts of him. He was taller than her by at least a foot, and so much more muscular than the males of her own race. Nak was also much hairier and somehow that wasn’t a bad thing.

Now Jenna was just desperately trying to hide her wayward desires every time Nak came near her. The last thing she wanted was to be obvious and ruin the friendship that was growing between her and Nak, also she was pretty sure he had a girlfriend. That, of course, didn’t stop her when the crew she was working with invited her out to drinks that night. Anything to be closer to Nak, and honestly she needed a drink. It had been a long day.

Drinks were flowing as easily as conversation and soon the group was laughing, joking, and there was some flirting going on as well. Everyone was more than a little tipsy and Jenna decided to slow down, not wanting to embarrass herself by being too drunk and letting her thoughts slip out. Being mostly sober around people who were clearly drunk was actually quite a bit of fun and she enjoyed teasing the drunk goblins that she had quickly began to see as close friends. Her allegiances were fading into the background as she smiled and laughed right along with them.

Jenna was sipping her water when Nak leaned in close and whispered to her, asking her if she wanted to get out of there since neither of them were really continuing to drink. Jenna wasn’t really sure what he meant, but she had just enough liquid courage still left in her to nod her head before excusing herself from the table and following Nak wherever it was he was leading her. Which turned out to be his room at the inn. Most people had found it difficult to gain access to decent sleeping arrangements. The goblins and gnomes were lucky as they already fit in the buildings nicely so they were able to get the best rooms.

“Wow, your room is so nice.” Jenna breathed as she walked in an looked around. Everything was sized for a gnome so it just made Nak seem that much bigger. Male goblins were usually under 4feet but Nak was at least 4’2 maybe 4’3 so he was pretty tall for a goblin. Jenna was only 3’3” herself so she had to look up when she spoke to him. Climbing into one of the chairs she smiled at him. She wasn’t certain why he invited her, but she wasn’t going to make assumptions.

“So, I noticed the way ya look at me.” Nak got right to the point. Noticing Jennas shocked expression and how she began to look upset. He quickly added. “And I like it.”

Now Jenna was stumped. She had been prepared to deny, provide excuses, even claim cultural ignorance, but none of it was needed. Nak liked her attraction to him. Did that mean he didn’t have a girlfriend?

“So’s.. I was wonderin if ya wanted ta maybe… try bein friends with benefits or somethin?” He wasn’t going to jump right into a relationship, but he was just as curious and attracted to her as she seemed to be of him.

Jenna wasn’t going to let apprehension or shyness ruin this for her so she just nodded and hopped back down off the chair. If they were going to do this, she wanted to do it tonight. Lusting after Nak for so long had made Jenna just a bit impatient, but she wasn’t really sure how to start.

Nak stepped forward cupping his large three fingered hand behind her head, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, being careful of his sharp nails. Leaning in he kissed Jenna, softly. Not wanting to scare her. He knew how to prevent his teeth from hurting her and waited for her to respond, lean into the kiss before pushing for more. He was excited that she actually agreed and he was quite eager to do more than just kiss as evidenced by his slowly growing arousal.

Pulling back Jenna looked a bit dazed by the kiss. She had been kissed before, but this was something else entirely. Her whole body felt tingly and warm. Her eagerness causing her good sense to leave her. “I, don’t want you to feel rushed, but I have fantasized about this for so long…” She wasn’t trying to push him into anything, but she wanted more than just kisses.

Nak chuckled and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I like that yer eager. It turns me on more than you know. Ok, so, lets maybe skip the light make outs and get straight to the good stuff. Still gonna need some foreplay, I got a feelin, yer not gonna be ready fer what I am offerin doll face.”

Helping Jenna up on the bed Nak began to remove her clothes tossing them to the side. Letting her stay in her small clothes for now. Stepping back he stripped off his own clothing until he was fully nude before her. He needed her to know what she was getting into, or more importantly, what was about to be getting into her. The look on her face told him what he needed to know, she wasn’t prepared for the reality. Those rumors going around about the male goblins, were pretty much true. Nak was quite blessed in the size department and it was only going to get bigger the more she stared at it.

“I see yer nervous. Don’t worry, I got somethin that’ll help. I don’t wanna hurt ya, so don’t be scared ok?” Nak moved over to a chest and dug around for a bit. Pulling out a bottle with a stopper and a small black bag, he set them on the night stand and hopped up on the bed with her. Gently pushing Jenna onto her back and tugging off her remaining undergarments. “Shh doll, don’t worry, I’m gonna make ya feel real good ok?”

Reaching down he began to rub her folds gently with his fingers, feeling the wetness that was already present. Smiling at her Nak leaned in, kissing at her neck and chest as his fingers worked over her slick folds and clit. When her breathing changed he slowed down. He wasn’t going to let her cum, not until she was begging for it. Once he was certain that her nervousness was gone he moved between her legs kneeling there, letting her see the size of him. Reaching over to the nightstand he picked up the bag and removed the false phallus from it. It was smaller than him, but bigger than what she was probably used to. He hoped he would be able to use it to ease her into taking him.

“Now, I am gonna use this ta loosin ya up ok doll? I don’t wanna hurt ya and I know ya want this, so just stay relaxed ok?” Nak grabbed the bottle and popped out the stopper coating the toy in a clear oily substance. The lubrication would help with the penetration. Using his fingers he coated her folds and entrance, being careful of his sharp nails, before pressing the tip of the toy against her opening.

Jenna had never seen a dick that big on someone of Nak’s stature. On and elf or human, sure, but she had expected something closer to the males of her own kind, which in this moment were lacking. She was nervous but also excited. Jenna had never actually taken anything that size in her. Oh sure she had flirted with larger races, but it had never gotten to the point of penetration. Now she would get to experience something she had only dared fantasize about. Spreading her legs wider for him, she tried to relax as she felt the tip of the toy push into her. It was a bit of a stretch, painful, but also exciting. She winced as the toy stretched her beyond what she was accustomed to but refused to ask Nak to stop.

Wiggling to try and get rid of the burning sensation Jenna moaned as Nak ran a thumb over her clit while pushing the toy a little further inside. Slowly he would work the toy in little by little, pulling back and pushing forward. Adding a bit of lube once the toy was half way in. Jenna was caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, not sure which sensation was actually stronger within her, but the extra lube did help and slowly the pain began to fade.

“That’s right sweetheart, yer doin so good. Takin all that, such a hot little body ya got. Can’t wait to actually be inside ya doll face.” Nak was eager but patient and he made sure to not rub her clit too much. He didn’t want her to cum yet. He wanted her right on that edge, where she was so worked up she forgot herself. He wanted her begging for him, begging for release.

The praise was working, Jenna wanted to impress Nak more than anything. She was panting form effort, the toy forcing her wider than she had ever been, her cunt stretched passed anything she could imagine. She whined each time he stopped teasing her clit. Slowly becoming more and more focused on reaching that edge and going over it, than the pain she had been feeling. At this point it was almost entirely pleasure, with only an occasional twinge.

Nak worked the toy in and out of her tight core with patience and finess. He could see her thighs shaking as she drew closer and closer to orgasm. He would have to slow down, let the toy rest, just to keep her from reaching that release she was beginning to crave. “Good girl Jenna, you are doing so good, almost the whole thing is inside of ya. I bet you’ll be able ta take me soon. Do you want that, do ya want me inside ya?”

“Yes Nak, please.. Please I want to cum, I want to feel you in me. Please. I don’t care if it hurts, I need you.” Jenna was panting, wild eyed, desperate. If she had any sense left in her she would be ashamed of her own neediness. She was too far gone to care how she looked and sounded. All she wanted was Nak inside of her.

“Mmmm.. good girl, just what I needed to hear.” Nak pushed the toy the rest of the way, watching her arch. It was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. Slowly, carefully, he pulled the toy out, looking at her gaping dilated hole. “Fuck I ain’t never wanted anyone as bad as I want you Jenna.”

[Authors note: Sorry this one is late and it kinda got away from me. If anyone is interested there might be more of these two in the future. I would be happy to write a part two if there is any interest.]

#warcraft fanfic #Goblin boyfriend #gnome girlfriend #goblin/gnome #kinktober 2019 #exophilia

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fereality-indy · 5 years

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Fun - Wendip Week 2019

June 8th, 2015

The Basement of the Mayoral Residence

“This is fun, what you two have.” The creature said as it paced in front of it’s captives, “I HATE FUN!”

He wasn’t a gnome like they had been told, that’s for sure. The short creature could have been mistaken for a gnome, if you had one eye closed and the other had just been punched. He had dark ruddy skin, a bald head, ears almost two sizes to big for the rest of the head, wearing trousers, a poncho made from a towel with the initials EB in one corner, and boots that are obviously too big for him. It would be comical if he wasn’t still so strong and agile. No, not a gnome. Before they had fallen through the floor of the ballroom in the Mayor’s estate, Dipper had correctly identified the creature as a Hob. But then they did fall through the floor and were subsequently hit over the head. When they came to, they were tied up tightly and the Hob had begun ranting.

“For years I had to listen to all of the townsfolk having fun while I had to care for my dear Master. He worked tirelessly for the people of this place and when he passed, what did they do. They elected a new mayor. Someone not worthy of wearing my master’s boots let alone running the town in his absence.” The Hob said as he once again walked around to check on the rope he had bound the young couple with. Seeing it still around their wrists he continued “My dear Master Befufftlefumpter, he was a great man. He saved me. During the fighting between all you big ones, first my family and then my home were taken from me. My family was taken by the men in the pointy hats, they even took the baby. Then the explosions came and the Haus Kline was gone. I was a Hob with neither a home nor a family to care for, it was worse than a new suit.”

“They killed your baby, I’m so sorry.” Wendy started to say as she generally felt sorry for the Hob.

“Silence!!” he practically spat out in her face.

“Back off. She was just trying to offer you some sympathy.” Dipper said as he tried to position himself between them.

“Jerk.” Wendy added. She was not surprised that Dipper had moved as much as he could have to her defense, she would have done the same in his place. They had been doing so ever since that first summer and the fact they were dating now really hasn’t changed that.

“Sympathy, bah. I do not need your pity. And it wasn’t my baby, it was the future master of the household.” The Hob said as he turned on his heel and began pacing in front of them “Tuck had one job, to help my family, and Tuck failed them twice. But Master Befufftlefumpter saw that Tuck had done his best and Master took me in. Offered to let Tuck move into his house and become part of his household. Tuck was over joyed, but this meant Tuck had to move far away from his fallen home and his failure.”

“That sounds fortunate.” Dipper said after Wendy nudged him and winked “You know what they say, ‘When one door closes, another one opens.”

“Oh no,” Tuck the Hob said as he paused and looked up at the door leading to the rest of the house “Tuck always made sure that all the doors stayed shut unless Master wished them to be open. I was always a good hob, yes Tuck was.”

Wendy’s mind was going a mile a minute even though she had almost worked her right hand free. ‘Man I wish I hadn’t not ran into Tyler this morning. But I did, and he had to ask for a favor. And when your dad’s boyfriend, who is also the mayor, asks for a favor you find yourself inclined to agree to it. Besides, this was right up Dipper’s alley and that would mean spending more time with him. I mean it was just someone or something pulling pranks on Tyler and only in the Mayoral mansion. Well according to Pacifica, it is more of a Mayoral Cottage than a mansion and she would know. But I’m getting off track.’

And then she felt her thumb pop free, now she just had to wiggle to get the binder past the rest of her knuckles. ‘The help reported seeing someone real short and so we thought a gnome. But Geoff denied that it was one of his subjects, so we thought maybe one had went rogue. We went in blind and fell for some tame Kevin McCallister style traps. All because some Larry Taylor styled house elf has grown too big for his poncho. Now I just need to get the rest of my hand free, there.’

As she pulled it loose, she shook the feeling back into her hand. Then she slid it towards Dipper only to have it meet his free hand. Luckily Tuck the Hob seemed to still be spouting on about his issues to notice when they both sorta gasped. Then as one they smirked as their attention went back on their captor. He didn’t have the element of surprise this time and he didn’t stand a chance.

"And then…” Tuck the Hob started but stopped as he saw that not only were his bound captives no longer bound, but they were also on their feet and coming towards him. “This is not right. You are my prisoners. You do not get to get free.”

“Sorry man, those sound like your rules. We follow our own.” Wendy said as she moved towards the Tuck.

With his eyes on the red head that towered over him, he didn’t notice Dipper until he was on him.

“And one of the first rules is, you don’t attack us.” Dipper said as he completed the tackle. As he stood up and attempted to bring the Hob with him, he saw it melding into the floor. “What the?”

"How hard did you hit him man?” Wendy asked in disbelief.

“Oh, his blow was good. But A hob and home are tough to beat.” Tuck’s voice called out from all around them.

Suddenly empty paint cans and other debris started flying at them from all directions. Dipper took a basketball to his stomach that knocked him over a fallen table. Wendy quickly followed him to cover.

“Any ideas?” She asked as she helped him into a seated position.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” Dipper said. He lifted his head up to see if Tuck had reappeared. He quickly dropped back down as a hand trowel embedded itself into the table.

“Hurry man.” Wendy said as a croquet ball flew over her head.

“Ok.” Dipper replied as an idea began to piece together some thoughts that had been floating through his head. “Ok, you called him a house elf earlier. You know what, you may not be too far off. RJ Kallings may be a bit of a hack, but she did do some research. Her house elves were loosely based on the British hobgoblin myths. And I bet that Hob is short for hobgoblin. I have an idea.”

He leaned close and began whispering into her ear while he pulled something out of his pockets and handed it to her.

“You sure about this?” she asked as she looked at what he handed her.

“Well, about 70 percent sure.” He said slightly chagrinned.

“Good enough for me.” She said with a smile. Standing up she called out. “Hey, short stuff.”

“What do you want fool.” Tuck said as the debris field began to slow down.

“You said earlier that you are tied to the household, right? And to the members of the household?” Wendy asked as she stepped over the fallen table and moved towards Tuck.

“Yes, that is true. But I really don’t see what that has to do with you.” Tuck replied as he wearily watched Wendy come closer, ready to retreat into the floor at a moments notice.

“Well the current Master of the house is practically my stepfather and I guess that makes me a member of the household as well.” Wendy said calmly as she came with in arms reach of Tuck. “And so I just wanted to show my appreciation of all the hard work you do around here.”

And with that she tossed him the pair of hand knit gloves that Dipper gave her moments ago Tuck reflexively caught them and seconds later threw them down in disgust.

“Fine. If that is how you truly feel, then goodbye.” And he turned and walked into the wall and was gone.

“Ok, that actually worked. You think he’s gone for good?” she asked as she turned back towards where she had left Dipper. And it looks like he had been busy while she was talking to Tuck. He held an old picture frame in his hands.

“I hope so, but just to be sure.” He walked over and picked up the gloves and placed them behind the frame’s glass. Pulling out a marker he wrote ‘For Tuck’ on the bottom of the frame. “So where should we hang this?”

#gravity falls #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #wendip week 2019 #wendip

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tactyl-ymon · 4 years

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Dnd session recap - Broken bonds and bodies

You know what, this is becoming kind of a standard disclaimer at this point. But sweet fuck I am bad at doing these write up’s in a timely manner. Not that it matters, but I’m trying to get better I promise. Anyway, on with whatever I can remember from a session from about 2 months ago!

We start with a bit of a rewind and some Vieraen shenanigans that took place part way through last session. While everyone is out finishing a dark ritual to summon a tower, Vieraen is out to be a menace. He finds some children in an alley and asks them if they know how to delete someone or if there is anyone who would know … how to delete someone. They end up taking him to a ramshackle tent in one of the slums with basically the most kiwi orc ever known named Jake Johnson and then get to talking about poisons and just how good they are. After a bit of back and forth, they come to an agreement. Jake will help Vieraen make some dope poisons, but he needs to test them on the drow rogue … and by test we mean stab viciously in the gut to see how the poison affects someone,. Seeing nothing wrong with this, Vieraen gets poked and takes a ludicrous amount of damage. After a fairly long session of knifey stabby, Vieraen leaves his new friend, both with a greater understanding of how poisons hurt and several minor stab wounds he heads up to one of the main magic shops in town to try and sell some things and get a fancy new dagger. He starts talking with the Halfling shop owner about the dagger he wants and what it would take to reduce the price before he pulls out one of the gems he’d picked up from the tunnels leading to the witches den on our last group assignment. Fun fact about the gems he got, they’re all really good at containing a specific type of magic and the one he was trying to sell was a fully charged fireball set to explode at the slightest nudge. Somehow not noticing the halfling’s wide eyed terror that this drow hooligan basically just walked into his shop with a live grenade, Vieraen mentions he’s got like 10 more in his bag if the owner would be willing to trade. Things escalate, the shop owner wants Vieraen out of his shop, Vieraen reeeeally wants that dagger though. Vieraen mentions he’s not leaving without that dagger as the shop owner uses the moment to cast a suggestion that Vieraen should leave. Under a compulsion to gtfo, Vieraen wanders outside and the shop owner locks up behind him. With that taking up most of his day, Vieraen heads back to the barracks to sleep everything off and wait for everyone to get back from whatever errand Core sent everyone on.

Seeing as the weird sylph didn’t eat anyone in their sleep, the tower crew heads back to the barracks for a quick breakfast and fill Vieraen in on what they found before everyone gets a message from Core about a bar fight nearby he needs everyone’s help with. Feeling the need to brawl, Eridol and Drackuss lead the charge and as they slam open the tavern doors they find absolutely nothing. No brawl, just a couple drunks from the night before passed out on the bar and Core getting playfully batted at by probably the most adorable cat anyone had ever seen. Core introduces his new friend as Whisky Whiskers, she’s a 2 ft tall munchkin cat person and also a monk, also she drunk Core under the table last night. Honestly, it would have been more adorable if she wasn’t here to keep an eye on Eridol and his constant teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. With introductions made, Eridol asks if this was the bar fight he needed help with and with the magic words said, Drackuss starts a one man brawl with the drunks at the bar, breaking a chair over one and piledriving one through a table that leaves most of the poor man’s blood on the outside. Everyone tries to stop the dragonborn juggernaut, but it’s our new friend Whisky who manages to stop the beatdown with a stunning strike that lasts long enough for everyone sober enough to act to restrain Drackuss while Eridol feverously heals the men. Drackuss’s holy medallion slides to the floor in several pieces but this goes unnoticed by everyone but Drackuss and as far as he’s concerned, the less people who know about his broken oath at the moment the better. Drackuss apologises, he’s just been so antsy for a proper fight recently and this got the best of him. Eridol is too busy healing the patrons to notice and everyone else didn’t really care that much. Drack gonna drack.

With nothing really to do for the next day and a half due to Core needing to do more research on the giant tower that apparated out of the earth and Emmi heading back to her ship several towns away for some me time, everyone else decides it’s time to hit the bath house to relax and mostly to clean Eridol because even without the gore from the past few battles still hanging off his armor making him smell like ham and sadness, he’s still not really been taking care of things. Most of the group grabs a communal bath to chat and everything while Drackuss gets a bath on his own away from the group. Whisky gets to know everyone and generally makes Eridol uncomfortable with all the invasions of his personal space, asking if he’s ok and just generally not letting him mope, the group starts drinking away the day and having as much fun as a group of hardened adventurers can do in a communal bath house. Drackuss sneaks out of the bath house and heads into one of the nearby forests, driving by an urge and whispers in his head he ends on coming across the camp of one of our previous allies, Olgum the hobgoblin fighter. They have a tense conversation while Drackuss draws his sword, proclaiming he’s been sent here to retrieve something Olgum doesn’t deserve anymore. A shield Olgum has but refuses to use properly. A shield used to solidify a connection to Bhaal, the god of murder. Drackuss needs it and he intends to take it one way or another. It is less a fight and more an execution as Drackuss murders his once friend and ally. With the final blow a new connection is made between Drackuss and the evil god he now serves. He takes the shield, a ring and some trinkets before setting the camp ablaze and returning to the bath house, the rest of the group none the wiser because we’ve been drinking together in the bath for the past 4 or so hours. They all talk about plans for the next few days, Vieraen wants to head back to the magic shop to see if he can talk that dagger into his pants and Eridol mentions everyone should come to the pits tomorrow to see him fight, it’ll be great. This is definitely not a cry for help, don’t worry about it.The crew heads up to the fight pits to cheer for Eridol as he tries to let off some steam against a hill giant they had all fought as a group several weeks ago that had a bone to pick with the tiny gnome who burst his chest open last time. Bets are placed and buffs are sneakily applied before they fizzle out entirely when Eridol enters the ring. The fight starts with a bang of holy light from Eridol that sends the giant reeling. The show is fierce and comes to a head when the giant throws several boulders, most of which hit Eridol as he is feebly trying to close the distance to the giant with his tiny gnome sized legs. They trade blows for what seems like hours until both are left broken and bloody with just enough energy for one last clash. Eridol gets off a fantastic hit to the ogre’s side, mirroring the last killing blow he gave the giant in the group fight while the giant swung down with his literal tree trunk of a club, hitting eridol dead on. The crowd grows quiet as the dust settles and only one of the combatants is visible. The giant’s hand twitches and a gnome wriggles out from under the tree trunk. Bruised, bloodied and broken but somehow victorious. The crowd erupts in cheers as the fight pit’s healing field brings the giant back to consciousness. Both fighters bow to each other and the crowd, glad to have put on a show and bury the hatchet in each other as it were. The group comes down to Eridol’s prep room to see the gnome slumped against one of the walls, letting the rooms healing aura mend some of his shattered bones as the bruises set in and he starts the process of making sure everything heals properly. Congratulations are given and Eridol gives a shaky thumbs up in response before basically passing out. Thoroughly spent from the fight and mumbling that he’ll see everyone back home once the post fight shakes go away and Eridol gets to take care of what he thinks is a concussion.

Vieraen mentions that they should go back to the magic shop in the mean time and off they trot to the Magical emporium to find it still locked and no signs of life. Which is weird, this place never closes, especially not for days at a time. The group decides this is a mystery worth solving as the poke and prod the building for clues and they end up in one of the back alleys all looking for a secret entrance. Not wanting to cause a scene, Drackuss decides to disguise himself as Core, our government official patron so he can hand wave away any nosey villagers who notice us totally not criminals slinking out behind a shop full to the brim with magical artifacts. After several more failed attempts to break into the place either to look for clues or so Vieraen can steal his dagger, the group decides they should notify Core because this is worrying and obviously someone further up the chain should be told about this. Core arrives out the back of the shop to see the group and his doppelganger that was Drackuss as they go over everything, Core admits it is a bit weird that the shop is closed and if they have any other ideas to get in. Vieraen thinks for a second and pulls out the fireball gem that honestly started this whole mess and mentions if they throw it at the door it should get through and as a group they all decide that yes, this is the way forward and the gem is yeeted at the building. The gem containing a charged fireball. Surprising literally everyone, it explodes and sets some of the neighbouring fences on fire but with no damage to the shop, y’know because it’s a magic shop and has preventative measures for this. Someone mentions that they should get Eridol down here to help treat any of the mild injuries, Vieraen takes it upon himself to call the cleric over their necklaces. With non existent panic in his voice he shouts “Eridol, you should come quick, someone’s about to die”, which gets a genuinely panicked response from the still recovering cleric that he was on his way.Realising that Eridol would be expecting to see some kind of injury, Vieraen turns to Drackuss and asks the now evil paladin if he could “Stab me real bad” which is really all Drackuss needs to hear as he turns on the drow and Vieraen realizes sometime between the first and second hits this was maybe a mistake because Drackuss is actually trying to kill him. Chaos ensues as Vieraen attempts to get away from his would be executioner, Whisky jumps up and tries to stun the dragonborn as Core and Tornur trade throwing themselves in front of the drow rogue with arcane shields a plenty to absorb the hits. No one knows what is happening, Drackuss is on the war path and obviously willing to cut them all down to get to Vieraen. Someone gets on the necklaces to let Eridol know that Drackuss has gone insane which is another heaping spoonful of terror Eridol tries to keep down as he is running through the streets, still covered in gore from his exhibition match in the pits. While Core and Tornur protect Vieraen, Core yells for Whisky to get out and that she needs to find Eridol. Whisky nods and takes off as fast as her tiny feline legs can go. Now without one of their trump cards to slow drackuss down, Tornur comes up with a plan and conjures a thick cube of webbing to restrict the raging paladin and slow him down long enough for Core to cast haste on everyone and get a glimpse of the cursed shield in Drackuss’ possiession. Between the haste, Vieraen’s innate knowledge of the city and Drackuss’ restricted movements they all get away and start running back towards the fight pits to regroup and call on the city guards. With his prey getting away, Drackuss knows the opportunity is lost and starts heading back to the barracks to either funnel everyone into a killbox or to gather supplies and leave to survive another day.

Halfway across the city, Eridol is running as fast as he can towards the magic shop and where the fight should be taking place, hoping the panic he felt from Vieraen’s message mingling with his abject fear that has been there since Drackuss cut him down are hidden well enough by his pure need to protect his friends. Between being so exhausted and being nearly out of spells he almost misses Whisky as she clambers over a nearby roof. He does the only thing he can think off and pushes divine light into his shield to use as a beacon. The two meet up shortly before the remainder of the not evil friends turn up. All looking worse for wear, no one knows what’s going on. Eridol realizes that Drackuss would need to head back to the barracks to pick up supplies and that they would either be walking into a trap or an empty building. Without a second thought, Eridol asks that everyone stay safe, turns to Core and says “We will take care of this … I … I can take care of this” not trying to hide the panic and fear as he starts running towards the barracks, Core curses under his breath and turns to Whisky, Vieraen and Tornur and says he would understand if they don’t want to come before getting in touch with some guardsmen and running after Eridol. Of course nobody listens to either of them as Vieraen, Whisky and Tornur book it after their tiny guardian towards a very possible death.

#Tactyl Ymon #DnD Recap #Eridol #Whisky #Tornur #Veiraen #Drackuss #Emmi #dnd

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the-house-of-the-nine · 5 years

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In Depths Below: Midnight Hour, Part 3

(To give an accurate description of what the dialogue in this story would sound like in your head. Imagine a conversation happening between Quint [From “Jaws”] and Sylvester the Cats son Junior [Looney Tunes, and he is just a higher pitched version of Sylvester for anyone curious.] As that is in fact both of their voice claims, enjoy!)

In the third week leading up to Lazarius being taken by the mercenaries and House Kash’ebahl falling into ruin, it would be the coordinated efforts of the members of the Nine leading the charge to extract a carefully planned revenge on the parties responsible. Magister Dawnseeker had begun this assault by taking from them their precious Inquisitor, whether he realized it or not he was declaring open war on not only the house in question, but the Nine. Each of the members of the order had their mission. They were to deal with a particular member of the eleven magisters in question, leaving together but toward different places they would carry out their plan to eliminate the threat. This was their Midnight Hour, on the hypothetical doomsayer clock, they were four minutes til…

“If ah have tah listen tha’ gods be damned ‘flesh is burning’ song one more time. Ah’m gonnae have tah toss yah off this cart into the next vent shaft.”

Brox was a rather crass and miserable dwarf. When it came to measuring dwarves it was common place to use a yard stick, or some other device that capped out at about a meter and a half.

“Even burnin’ ya alive, ah would doubt ah’d be rid o’ yah.”

The gritty and somewhat outspoken Dark Iron dwarf was leading an old and somewhat mangy looking mule through the barely visible roads of Searing Gorge. It was pulling a floppy, beaten and run down wagon with a pair of mismatched wheels and a grinding squeak that was only barely better than listening to the gnome. On the side of the cart in a crude penmanship were the handwritten words,

“W.W M.D Miracles, Cures, Tonics & Hot Lunches.”

The pair of them were parading around somewhere in the middle of the Searing Gorge as an organized traveling medical practitioner, who for some reason also offered a meal with their service. That thought slowly wormed its way back into the brain of the dark iron and he let out a furiously painful groan.

That was a conversation that took them nearly an hour to resolve. He could still hear the little gnome insisting that every patient deserves a balanced lunch. He groaned again while his other hand pressed a thumb and finger into his burning orange red eyes.

When it came to measuring attitudes though, by far, Dark Irons were renowned for being the grumpiest and the most miserable of the lot. Brox was just that.

He was shifty, he was angry and most importantly he was severely challenged when it came to having any type of pleasant conversation that may result in a joyous affair. It was remarkable how even the slightest of comments could send him into a swear spilling, whirlwind of obscenities and saliva. There was very little that actually brought a smile to his face.

Of course there were some things. Gambling for starters, women were another. These Ren’dorei were the stuff dreams were made of. He had several pin-up calendars that were posted all over his dorm. Thinking about them would always bring a tug at his grizzled cheeks.

Drinking was a given here, dwarves were notorious drinkers. Able to put down even the strongest liver in a matter of hours. Though not as much these days, Brox had taken a bit of a break from his ale consumption when a curious Lightforged Draenei mistook him for a large pudgy gnome by mistake. After the tussle and day and half in the stockades, he was determined to make a new years resolution regarding a bit of weight loss.

“All tha way since Dun Morogh. . . ah’m startin’ tah lose meh patience Doc. Startin’ tah. . . what the ‘ell am ah sayin’?”

He would laugh to himself and tug the reins a bit. He was of course speaking out loud.

“Ah’ve long since lost meh patience... and ‘ave slowly started driftin’ toward murder. . .they would never find yah ‘ere. . . ”

Brox was of course referring to the pint sized companion sitting beside him in the cart. That little nightmare was of course none other than the illustrious, the magnificent, the astounding; these were of course the only monikers he went by, Westley P. Whistletorque. Brox and Whistletorque had been on the road for several days already. Choosing to hop the tram leading from Stormwind Keep to Ironforge just a mere few hours after receiving their mission from Pyravari Kash’ebahl.

This was more so on the urging of the little doctor more than anything. He was eager to impress the Harbinger. Something about the way she smacked people around. Her gruff and wicked ways, her strong powerful choke holds. The little gnome never fancied elven women but for some reason the undead liche queen was something he could never get out of his mind.

Of course he knew all about her affair with Koltun, it didn't seem to bother him. She was of course allowed to have other gentlemen suitors in her life; but delusional as he was, he’d always see himself as her number one fellow.

“Would you sth-top your complaining!” squeaked the little gnome.

“Wah-wah wah, this-th cart hurt-sth my ass-th, this-th snow is-th much too cold, this-th mule wont pull hard enough. . .”

“This gnome won’t shut the fu-” Brox began.

“Would you look at that!” Whistletorque brazenly interrupted as he peered up over the horizon at the massive peek of Blackrock Mountain. “Ain’t it jus-th marvelous-th, ain’t it jus-th a bute!”

“Aye, it’s ah large angry mountain tha’ spits fire an’ lava an’ big ol’ hot rocks that crush wee little gnomes. Perhaps you’d like tah get ah closer look, Doc?”

Brox veered the mule a bit off to the left of the trail they were following to avoid a sloppily paved road hole. The dark irons that lived out here were not exactly keepers of the kings road. The could care less if the ground ate itself. Brox was used to it though.

Before leaving this miserable place, he’d been a commanding general in the Twilight Hammer Cult. Those days were long since past him, and he was fiercely loyal to Lazarius and The Nine now, but prior to Deathwings fall and the loss of the Bastion of Twilight, he was a devout Hammer follower.

“I’m fairly c-thertain that s-thitting here and obs-therving from a dis-th-tance will s-thuffice, thank you Mis-thter Sulfin.”

“Urgh. . .” Brox let out a painful sigh as he listened to the gnome. “...gods below yah voice is like listenin’ tah two corehounds gnawin’ on ah pipe organ. . . how da yah do it? How do yah survive? Ah’m shocked yah even still alive. . .”

“I get by. . .Not by mis-thtake either!” the gnome guffawed as his shrill and irritating laugh pierced the silence of the cart. It was only surmounted by the rumbling of thunder at the summit of the mountain and of course the sounds from deep below the surface.

The pair of them would sit quietly for once in their trip as the fumbling, moronic actions of the gnome began to dig through his little doctors bag for a certain item. What was he looking for?

Brox would peer over just in time to nearly miss another road hole, as it shook the cart and nearly sent the two of them flying from just that small nudge, he would growl and snarl a gruff tone.

“What are ya doin, we just ate about an hour ago!”

Whistletorque chortled softly into his medical bag, remarking about not wanting food or anything of the sort, but removing the picture from the meeting just days prior when they’d left The Bastille.

Pyravari did the same thing with the next image, her magics levitating it upward in a shadowy tendril to reveal a red-headed elf with the same, intense gaze as the previous.

“Magister Sinafel. A wizard of fire – destructive and immune to most magics that are not elemental or otherwise ‘natural.’ He is in Searing Gorge in a hideout along the caves in The Cauldron on the eastern side. Whistletorque and Brox, you will both dispatch this one. I am certain Brox will be able to traverse that region with ease thanks to his knowledge of that area.”

“S-thinafel.” the little gnome said softly as he gazed at the photograph. “He sure is a S-thpindly looking fellow is-thint he?”

Brox would only turn and glance at the photograph for a brief moment. He knew what the elf looked like and it was not of much concern to him how thin or fat he was. He was dead, that was the one thing that the dark iron knew would be a fact in the next few days. Depending of course; when they found him and got out of this horrible place.

“Ah’ve seen him. Don’t care. Ugly dead or alive. Just need to get there and do our job.”

“You know, I’ve s-theen some ugly looking elfs-th in my day but this-th one takes-th the cake for sure.” Whistletorque said as his voice trailed only for a moment as he began to think further on his own sentence.

“S-thpeaking of cake, you know what I abs-tholutely love?”

“Cake. . . “ Brox said in the most begrudgingly awful draws he could possibly make. He knew answering the gnome was a mistake, but not answering him was an even worse one.

“How’d you guess-th?” replied the gnome as his shrill cackle whirled around the cart like a siren squealing from an alarm-o-bot.

“Pound cake, Round Cake. . . fat, fluffy cake. Cake with those fun little s-thprinkles on top. . .Cake on top of cake. . . s-thmelly cake. . .”

Brox was silent for only a moment as the sound of his counterpart rattling on about pastries caused him to growl after each new sentence. This was of course culminating into one loud and frustratingly spent groan which trailed off into the distance as the two continued to cart along.

Several Hours Later. . .

Brox, Whistletorque and the Donkey were perched on a cliff face just on the boarder of where Searing Gorge met the surrounding lands. It was a quaint little hovel nestled into the rock formations with just the right amount of cover, but also; the right amount of natural trapping, The Cauldron.

Brox; if anything, was a master of these lands. Having lived here for his entire adolescent life leading up to his departure and abandonment of The Alliance. The one thing he knew was that the elf and his posse were now in the perfect place for an ambush.

There were no hopes of finding salvation in such a harsh and forgiving landscape. The closest Horde settlement was the remains of Kargath out in the Badlands but getting there would prove a greater challenge now more than ever due to the fact that the Dark Irons had allied with the Alliance formally. This meant the neutral or hostile checkpoints which were only once half manned were now heavily reinforced as checkpoints for the King.

Sinefel would not be waltzing through them without losing something, a limb perhaps. If that were to be the case, then it would have just made their job even easier.

“Alrigh’, we go in slow an’ steady, you lead and ah’ll follow, flash ‘em tha smile, do the song and dance, go into your routine, and before yah know it. . .we’ll be back in Ironforge ‘avin a pint before supper.” whispered the dwarf as he peered over toward his companions.

“That is eas-thy for you to s-thay, I’m the one that has-th to be the showman. You get to jus-tht s-thit there and watch. . .” replied the gnome.

The donkey would bray once.

“Oh so yah think ah’m incapable of bein’ the star?” Brox snapped looking toward the gnome.

“Think? Incapable? HA!” the little pink fluff ball grumbled. “I think, you can barely pass-th as a dwarf as it is, thank goodness-th for the s-thmell!”

The donkey would slowly begin to munch on the pack of the little gnome nearby as it brayed again.

“Wha- why you ungrateful little shit smear!” Brox flopped off of his tummy; as difficult at it would sound, in order to get onto his knees and kickstand himself onto his feet. “Ah’m. . . ah’m the one. . . Ah’m the. . .”

“Careful pudgy, don’t s-thrain a musthcle.” the gnome wittingly retorted as he watched him struggle. On the other hand, he had no difficultly getting to his feet.

“Shut-the-fu--” Brox would be promptly interrupted by another donkey bray.

“S-thee, he agrees with me too.” Whistletorque said as his stubby coated arms cross over his own portly gut.

“He is a donkey, he doesn’t ‘ave an opinion!” Brox snarled finally getting to his feet and adjusting his leathers and boots. “Listen ‘ere!”

The gnome remained standing there silent, his crossed arms still resting against his pudginess. A slow moving hand would offer its way toward the dwarf as if to say ‘go on’.

“Ah’m the one who drives tha cart. Ah supplied the goods, and ah’m the navigator.” he sympathetically stood there waiting for some sort of gratitude. The gnome was silent as he explained his stance on the topic.

The only sound heard would be another bray from the donkey.

“Cram it!” Brox shouted. “Nobody asked you!”

Whistletorque started to laugh again as he turned and made his way back toward the cart which was parked just behind them on the trail head leading down to where the elf had made camp.

“You know, its a good thing he’s here, for what its worth. Every good doctor needs-th a half witted, disheveled, even incompetent companion to help make himself look more intelligent by comparison.”

Brox would do the same thing, grabbing the reigns of the donkey in order to lead him back toward the wagon. As he was saddling him back up, he would have to pry the doctor bag from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t talk about ol’ Hammy like tha’, he’s ah good mule.” he said tightening the straps to his bridle.

“I was-th talking to him. . . “ replied the gnome.

Brox didn’t miss a beat. Simply made his way toward the drivers side of the cart, hoisted himself up into the seat and promptly hurled the bag of the little gnome as hard as he could off the edge of the cliff face. The sound of it spilling and dropping its contents down into the ravine were amplified ten fold due to the silence between the two of them.

“You’re abos-tholuely des-thpicable. . . “.

A few moments later. . .

After some careful planning, a bit of tidying up and of course; the grand flare of everything, installing the mechanical whirling gizmo that sat atop the magnificent wobbling cart. Whistletorque and Brox descended upon the camp of the Magister known as Sinafel with the intention of murdering him in cold, unprovoked fury. But first they’d have to make their grand introduction.

As they waltzed through the pass leading to the small outcrop, the two riders and their majestic donkey would all grow silent. The one thing they needed to remember was that these people were elves. This was not a force of Stormwind soldiers, it was not a group of rogue dwarves out having an evening drink. These were magisters, and even more specifically, these were an intelligent excavating and archeological group of magisters.

They were here studying the effects of magma, lava, fire and tectonic shifting. They were here to learn about the massive mountain. They were here to gain knowledge and power. They were not here to be bothered by a gnome and dwarf riding a donkey cart, trying to appeal to their sense of flare and flamboyancy would be imperative.

The swirling gizmo continued to turn on top of the wagon like a spinning windmill as the pair grew closer to the two guarding elves at the entrance of the camp. Brox was wearing a beautiful violet silken top hat, his goggles; just the riding type, were covering his glowing red eyes. And his beard combed neatly and respectively, it fell against the crushed velvet of his leisure suit.

Westley was wearing a white lab coat and his usual magnification goggles. His pink tufts of hair on either side of his head were combed outward in the most glorious way and the smile he brandished was beaming as bright as the sun.

The two guarding elves were poised at the entrance of the camp in Silvermoon Cities finest garments. The golden and crimson colors vibrant against the stale cinder ash that caused the visibility of the area to always have an odd orange hue.

As they watched this ridiculous pairing grow closer, one of the elves would put their hand outward and pointed toward the cart. Both the drivers would realize the flame that ignited in the palm. While the other elf would raise a glaive of some sort, looking much like that of the royal guard.

“That is as far as you both shall go. Report your name or we will open fire. This is protected land claimed by the Horde and Silvermoon City and you are trespassing.” exclaimed the elf holding the handful of fire.

Suddenly the sound of something marvelous would echo against the heavy stone walls of the entire cavernous pass. It was trumpets blaring, it was the sound of a snare drum rolling into a military style rhythmic beat, a bass drum keeping tempo and what sounded like banjo or some string instrument being played along side a small high pitched fife.

The rear of the cart exploded with a vibrant thud as the large door fell downward and suspended itself horizontally out the back. It was a mechanical band, like that of an entertainment restaurant fully equipped with animatronics a plenty, using the door as their makeshift stage. They were only about the size of the gnome riding in the cart but they were playing the music beautifully.

A small robotic pair of orcs were sitting side by side, one with the snare drum and the other hitting the large bass drum with a rubber mallet. The dwarf playing the banjo was missing a hand, but it was clear it didn't matter because he could some how strum without it.

Beside them was a beautiful; save for the fact that she was missing her lower jaw and part of her ear, elven female playing the fife. And right in the back behind her was a troll blowing what appeared to be a long object looking like a plunger, this would have been where the missing trumpet probably went.

Fireworks then burst from the whirling gizmo as the music continued to blare. Streams of blue and red, and yellow and pink came whizzing out of the top of each of the spindles that spun about. This only caused the device to spin out of control even faster and create a rainbow effect on the cart.

“Gentlemen! I bid you good morning!” squealed the little gnome as he suddenly leapt up from his seat and stood posing on the cart for the elves.

“Allow me to introduce mys-thelf! I am doctor Wes-thley P. Whis-thletorque and thisth isth my traveling cart of miraclesth, medicinesth and much, much more!”

At the completion of his sentence; Brox who had already come to a complete stop, released the reigns leading to the donkey and would slowly give an unenthusiastic pound on the wood behind him so that two flags would drop on either side of the cart. Each of them were showing stick figured people smiling, happy and surrounding a list of all the wonderful items he carried in his cart.

In another sudden action of nearly unexpected and miraculous agility. Westley would spring into the most charming of movements. His pop & lock dancing moves were nearly unmatched; this in part largely due to his overwhelming obsession with Dalaran during the auction house dance parties, but they were incredible for such a stubby and overweight fellow.

“Thisth isth my marvelousth as-thsistant Brahm Hands-thomefoot, and our beautiful four hoof companion Margret. S-thay hello Margret!” exclaimed the gnome as he continued to showboat.

The donkey then gave out a sudden bray of “Hee-Haw” before bowing his head and giving a stomp from his left front hoof. And yes, they were aware that the name of their male donkey was Margret. He just looked like a Margret, another hour long battle that Brox conceded on during their trip here.

This entire display to the amazement of everyone; including the whimsical Whistletorque who was panting heavily with his arms outstretched as if he’d just finished doing his dance on stage, received a full ovation from both of the guards who seemed to find it amusing.

They were clapping and cheering and it seemed genuine. But one could never be too careful.

“That was stupendous!” cried the one elf who’d extinguished his hand fire.

“Amazing, simply amazing. You had to practice that. Wow. . .just wow.” said the other as he too had placed his weapon in a safe, and sturdy location in order to clap.

Whistletorque quickly offered them both a happy chuckle which followed by a bow on his cart, even Margret knew what it meant and he went into a bow. But before stopping, the gnome happened to look over and see that Brox was just sitting there. A swift slap to the side of his head; which knocked his top hat off into his lap, would be the indication that he should also bow. He did, biting his tongue and his fist to prevent it from being sent into the chompers of the little runt.

“You gentlemen are far too kind, you have my utmosth thanks-th.” exclaimed the gnome as he dismounted the cart in the most graceful of ways and landing with a silent step.

“Might I inquire, who isth in charge of this-th fine es-thtabilshment?”

The elf previously offering the hand of fire toward the cart walked over and offered the same hand to the portly gnome. “Of course, of course. That would be High Magister Arcadius Sinafel. Why don't you bring the cart inside, we’ll get you set up. You seem to be heading in the direction of Stormwind, coming from Ironforge I guess?”

“You are abs-tholutely correct my fine s-thir. Ironforge to S-thormwind, s-thuch a long and arduous-th trek, wouldn’t you s-thay?” who was he to disagree with the elf who’d offered the perfect cover story so willingly, he’d just go along with it.

The elf would nod and continue to look over the gnome. Gnomes were not like goblins. The guard knew as much. Gnomes were a rather trusting people, and even more convincingly they were often times very forthcoming and honest. Goblins on the other hand. They’d just as soon cut your throat if it meant a profit.

“You sell hot lunches too, odd isn't it?” said the other guard as they made their way over to them, his eyes curiously going over the cart as he reached out to touch it.

“W-what?” Whistletorque said as he shook the hand of the one elf while half trying to listen to both. But upon noticing him getting closer to the cart he would squeal out. “W-why no, of course we don’t s-thell hot lunches-th!, that would jus-th be weird!”

Brox would slam his fist into the side of the cart again, and the doors that were previously open and displaying the band; which was still playing, and the signs would soon close back up tight like a snare drum.

“We offer free hot lunches-th for every diagnos-this and purchas-the of our tonics-th!” he exclaimed as he clapped his hands and opened them both up to display himself to the crowd like a ‘ta-da’ stance. “I believe every person deserves-th a hot lunch after an exam, more doctors-th should agree!”

Both elves laughed at this, and waved the cart and the gnome inside.

“Come on, get set up, we’ll pull the other hands from their research, get you situated in here, maybe help us out by grabbing a few of your wares and we’ll find the Magister for you to meet.”

“S-thtupendous!” Whistletorque said as he waved at Brox, and followed the elves toward the main camp.

It wouldn’t be a very long time for the little gnome and his dwarven companion to get set up in the camp. After being led into the area that was hardly secure to fend off a full Alliance assault; it was though reinforced enough to defend against a simply reconnaissance group.

Brox and Whistletorque would be given a bit of time to prepare while the rest of the camp would be gathered from their duties. The duo and their cart would be led into the middle of everything; Brox made sure that the cart would be turned in a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn though, just in case they needed a speedy exit. Or for this matter, and exit that was about as fast as a lazy old donkey could go.

In the meantime while the magisters were being gathered, Brox and Westley huddled in the back of the cramped cart. In the little area that was housing the six mechanical musicians. It looked like a group meeting as the two living assassins were squished between the other deteriorating friends who’d come along for the ride.

“Now, when they come out here everyone will line up on the passenger side of the cart. You go out, give another lil shimmy dance and flash ‘em tha’ ol’ smile o’ yours.” Brox said quietly as he peered around the half missing jawed elven woman who was sitting between them. “While your doing your thing, ah’ll sneak off and get into the tent, find this magister fella and stick ah knife right in his back.”

“Your plans-th are always s-tho pedestrian. . . you know that right?” Whistletorque exclaimed as he tried to peer around the other side. It was like trying to talk to a friend while someone else stands between you. Bobbing their heads back and forth but never really making eye contact.

“Wha- in the name o’ tha ol gods does that mean?” shouted the dwarf in his quietest of tones and trying to gaze around the marionette.

“It means’th every time we do anything, your answer is-th to just shove knives in peoples-th backs-th! Wheres-th the flare? Wheres-th the pizazz?” prompted the little gnome as he would move parts of the musical attachment out of his way while arguing with the dwarf.

“Flare? Flare? Why don’ ah shove a flare up ya sodden arse and see ‘ow long it takes for them fancy knife ears tah put ya out!” Brox was obviously getting irritated at this point.

“Well that. . .” Whistletorque gave a slight pause, blinking and giving it some thought. “That isn’t exactly a bad idea, I mean given the physics-th of the entire ordeal and how hard it would be to actually ignite a flare inside of someones-th ass-th. . . I am c-thertain that if w. . .”

“Would you shut up already! Just go do what ah’ tol’ yah and we’ll be out of ‘ere no time flat.” Brox snarled as he continued to fight with the perspective of the elven woman in his line of sight, while of course the gnome prattled on.

“And then of course you have the combustion rating, burn time, not to mention heat ratios. . .”

Brox suddenly grabbed the elf by the shoulders and ripped the mechanical piece from the wooden armature that it was attached to. He flung it only several inches across the cart but at least now he could see the little gnome.

“Shut yah flappin yap hole!”

“Betty! Oh no, look what you’ve done to her!” Whistletorque sobbed as he reached his fat little hand over to squeeze the stump where her little mechanical elf hand would have been. “You’ll never play the flute again. . .”

“It was a fife. . .” replied the dwarf.

“You do care!” the gnome shouted suddenly.

Brox snorted gruffly and it would have been a much louder ruckus if it had not been for the sound of the elves outside gathering and a pounding on the side of the cart which came from the same guard that let them in.

“Doctor Whistletorque, we’ve assembled our eager patrons, please feel free to open your cart so we may peruse.”

Brox then looked over at the doctor. The doctor would look back at him. This was the moment they had been waiting for. There was no turning back, there was no chance to second guess. They had to act and they would have to act fast if they were going to get away with this and live.

Brox slowly moved away and the good doctor grabbed his wrist.

“Wait you’re not going to give a pep talk or anything?” he squeaked as if expecting some sort of response.

All he got was a groan.

Moments later the entire group of elves had set up outside the cart. They were all seated on whatever they could find that was lying around the camp. Buckets, stumps, even pieces of armor and machinery. Chairs were a luxury and only few were used by those lucky enough to have found them.

But as usual, the doctor and his performing party would assume their position. Go through the same entire ordeal they had at the front gate; minus Betty of course who had been viciously ripped away and be-handed, though oddly enough her musical magical fife still played strong in spirit. And together they put on the show of a lifetime for these eagerly anticipating elves.

When the panting little gnome had finished his pop-and-lock dance, and the music had subsided, he leapt from the stage onto his pedestal and proudly bowed to a rousing applause and laughter.

“Thank you very much all of you!” he began after giving a short, chubby little bow. “Without further a due! Let me begin!”

Whistletorque flipped; or at the very best, rolled slightly forward enough to fall onto the ground and land on his feet, and planted himself firmly down on the ground before them.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Children of all ages. Allow me to proudly introduce you to Doctor Westley P. Whistletorque and his traveling medical marvels!” the good doctor jumped into an X formation with his legs out to each side, his arms up above and his head tilted back.

“Ta-da. ta-da. taaaa-taaaaa!” like a piano ramping up to start an old saloon performance, the gnome would sing out that phrase, turn and openly display his arms to point toward the cart, and in the same motion Brox would slam his fist against the side opening all the doors and all of their wares.

Unbeknownst to all of them, at the very same second the cart was opened, several loud explosions could be heard all over the camp. Pieces and parts went flying into the air as the sounds of screaming and painful agony could be heard.

It appeared that charges had been planted all around the camp. As the elves started to panic and the little gnome and dwarf leapt under their cart for cover, they came face to face with one another.

“Did you--”

“I didn’t did---”

“Well then who tha fuck set charges tah blow this place!”

The two peddling swindlers were huddled together, the sounds outside that could be heard were of voices around their cart..

“Alliance! They’re ambushing!”

“They’re operatives from SI:7, get the magister back to his tent, to safety quick!”

Both gnome and dwarf then looked at one another and suddenly started laughing hysterically at the situation they had found themselves in. It was easier to just hide here and let the Alliance be the ones to kill these guys than to have either one of them get their own hands dirty. Brox would smile, but it would be short lived. His feet were grabbed and he was slowly dragged out from under the cart.

“Wha-!”

One of the elven guards slammed him up against the cart with a blade to his neck. He would snarl and spit at the dwarf.

“This was all a plan to get our guard down. You alliance scum, you’re all the same.” he leaned in close and gave another snarl at the dwarf. “I’m going to enjoy cutting you into little pieces you dirty rock dwelling filth!”

Brox most certainly took offense to that, and as the face of the beautiful elven man got too close with his insults, he suddenly lurched forward as far as he could and took a bite of the perfectly chiseled nose.

This would cause the elf to fall back in pain immediately, screaming and writhing. And ultimately humiliated when the nose was spat back onto him.

“Don’t worry! Don’t panic! Im a doctor I can fix that!” Whistletorque said slowly squirming out from under the cart. “Oh and you get a free lunch too with all medical purchases, you’ll need firs-tht aid oitment so that counts-th, Isn’t that cool?”

“Gnome, listen. Ah’m gonna deal wit’ some o’ these elfy pricks. You get in that tent and make sure that Magister dies.” Brox said as he grabbed the gnome by the shoulders and gave him a little shake.

“You’re not planning on trying to kiss-th me are you, cause-th it kinda looks-th like youre gonna t--”

“Gnome!” Brox shouted and gave him another shake. “Get your arse in gear!”

“B-b-but we’re safe here.” The sound of screaming, explosions and armor against weapons were heard everywhere. They were far from safe. “Why not let this-th die down just a bit, just a tad or so. . . then we can make our move!”

“Listen to me, sure we could stay here and hide. We could stay here safe and sound and just wait this out. We could j. . .” Brox was cut short because at that very moment, Hammy had finally decided that the food he had been eating out of the bucket was no longer the food he wanted. And thusly the cart slowly wobbled its way about ten feet forward to where another food bucket was waiting. Now exposed, the two pint sized heroes were able to see the entire fight of Alliance versus Horde.

Both of them looked at one another for a moment before finally realizing the truth of the matter.

“Right, yeah. . .I should probably s-thtart moving. . .”

“Yah. . .right. good idea. . . ”

And with that, Brox grabbed the glave of the noseless guard and started into battle killing any of the Sin’dorei that were near them. The benefit of these two infiltrating a Horde camp that was under attack, well, just attack the enemy. They’d blend right in.

Whistletorque on the other hand, would need to take his time. Carefully trying to get into the tent which seemed to be a mile and a half across the entire battlefield. For the love of all things gnomish why did it have to be so far away.

Under legs and bodies that were being smashed and bashed. Around tables and chairs and gods only knew whatever the hell that was. He would maneuver his way through the battlefield in order to try and get to that tent. The tent that undoubtedly housed the Magister that was in charge.

He would sneak right up to the side of it eventually, after just a bit of time. His winded little chest heaving up and down; it was hard for such a fragile little fat creature to hustle like that without have the time to snack, rest and take a short nap. But try as he might, he would flop down on his belly and roll right under the gnome sized crack in the tent in order to get inside.

Careful as a fox, he would get to his feet. His stealth like reflexes and cat like abilities would be his saving grace now. Here, in that tent he was like a ninja assassin. Nobody could know what was about to happen. He would turn and run toward a table. Not a single person saw.

“So badass-th.” he thought to himself.

Another turn, a roll and a quick hop up onto his feet as he slammed against a dresser. His portly body pressed against it like a wet bag of laundry, he looked around.

“The deadly gnomish assassin, Wes-thtley P Whisthletorque.” he hummed allowed in his head. Even going as far as to come up with a theme song.

Another flip, another jump. Scaling a wall backwards with his hands. In reality he stumbled to get close to another large object to hide behind.

♪♫♪ “Dun dun dun dun, Whisthletorque. Dun dun dun dun, he is-th the gnome with the most. Dun dun dun dun, s-thuch a hero gnome. Dun dun dun dun, gettin cake after this-th. . .”♪♫♪

Back to another corner, then over to a table. And just as he was about to leap out and stab the enemy with his deadly poisoned blades, wait. . .He didnt have blades.

“Wait where are my blades-th?”

He crashed right into a table that was holding a beachball sized glass orb. He never did get a good look at whatever was going on inside the orb but when it rolled back and forth, he would try to stabilize it but ultimately knocking it further over.

He couldn't get onto the table fast enough to catch it and even if he could, it probably would have crushed him. All he could do was stand there on the table and watch it crash onto the ground.

As it smashed into a million little shards of glass, the sound of something coming hissing out of the blue and blackish vapor swirled around the tent.

“. . .what have... you done. . . my . . . .power. . . . . “

The gnome stood there, completely dumbfounded as the vapor and hissing sound continued up into the air and the tops of the tent. It cursed and hissed the entire time until there was nothing but silence, and the waging battle happening outside.

“That was probably bad. . .Oops...”

“You fat, miserable little twerp.” cause the voice of an elven man as he came into view. His fiery red hair was blazing as he ignited his hands and body in flame. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done!”

The gnome institutionally turned and began to crack a joke. “Well if I had to guess that was your observation ball for telling fortunes-th and now you’re screwwwwwwed.”

The Magister snarled and came ever closer. “I am High Magister Arcadius Sinefel of the Court of Quel’Thalas. You will pay dearly for that insult gnome. Mark my words, I will not leave this tent witho--”

There was nothing more to be said. In an instant, Whistletorque had flung a grabbing device that looked like a cylindrical defibrillator right toward the Magister. It miraculously latched onto his chest and immediately began to electrify the man. It tazed and shocked him into submission as the victim fell to the floor and began to salivate and drool.

“Oh geez, Oh gods-th! S-thir. . . .S-thir I am s-tho s-thorry!” Whistletorque leapt off the table and started toward the man on the ground who was writhing in a convulsive seizing. “Oh. . .wow that thing looks-th like it hurts-th.”

The tazed magister continued to sizzle and growl but hardly able to make words form into sentences because of the amount of amperage that was pulsing through him. He would reach toward the doctor with a sizzling, flesh burning hand but the little gnome would side step that inconspicuously.

“Ooooh geez. . . thats only going to get worse too. . .I must have miscalculated that one. . .”

Brox suddenly burst into the tent. He had heard the yelling outside. He was covered in blood and still holding the glave he had stolen from the guard.

“Wha-...”

“It isn’t what it looks-th like!” the gnome shouted as he tried to leap in front of Brox so he couldn’t see it.

“Well. . .it sorta looks like you’re tryin’ tah fry a man tah deat’ wit’ a remote control sausage.”

The gnome would slowly glance over his shoulder, his magnified eyes were honed in on the scene for quite some time before turning back to face his counter part.

“While it does-th certainly look as-th though that is the case, I can completely assure you th. . “ Whistletorque groaned and shook his head. “Yeah, no that’s pretty much dead on the nose-th accurate there.”

Brox burst into laughter and leaned in to slap the gnome on the shoulder.

“Well done lad!”

“Well d-- Well don.. . what do you mean Well done? This-th isnt how this-th is supposed to work. It was supposed to give you an accurate read out on your vitals-th! I just threw it at him to distract him ,so I could run away!” the gnome confessed as he tried to push the meaty arm stump off his shoulder.

“What a s-thtupendous disaster!”

Brox continued to laugh and pointed at the now drooling and frying man who was behind him.

“A fire wizard. . .immune to most magics that are elemental. . .” the dwarf said mocking Pyravari. “Good thing you just wanted to check his vitals, Doctor.”

Between the laughing and gurgling of the now boiling man behind them, Whistletorque did start to crack a smile. His smile cracked a grin. And that grin then birthed a little chuckle of his own.

“At least he’ll get a free lunch too?” chimed the little gnome.

They both shared a good laugh. In the meantime, several of the SI:7 members would rush into the tent and see what was going on. Some of them would be force to instantly leave. Others would gasp at the site of a man having his eyes bubble and pop while tens of thousands of volts of electricity were pumped into his body. The new guy was over in the corner just yacking when the leader of the little faction came in and said. “Oh---my---god...”

From that point on, little was seen of the dark iron dwarf and his mischievious gnomish companion. They waltzed through the clean up of dwarves, humans and elves who were there to kill the magisters and probably would have had far more casualities if it had not been for the pairing of W.W.M.D and co. But they would not be seen again. They simply mounted their cart, gave ol’ Hammy a little yank on the reigns and slowly trotted their way out of the Searing Gorge on their rickety, wobbly old cart.

Another Magister Down.

Continued in “In Depths Below: Midnight Hour, Part 4″

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 6 years

Text

POI - Intel

I’m keeping the birthday train rolling, y’all. This time it’s for @dalish-farther-roam, whose monk Amon could only ever inspire me to write something so rowdy and ridiculous. He’s bringing out the neutral in Val’s neutral good.

2,702 words, set in a fictional scenario in which the idiots need some information on some purposefully vague thing, and have different ideas on how to go about it. Val attempts diplomacy, and then realizes that’s a 4e skill and her charisma is garbage. Amon saves the day and is right a lot. Enjoy!

“Can I at least try talking to them first?”

Val and Amon stood about halfway down the length of a long, darkened stairwell, huddled together and arguing in hushed tones that Val hoped were being covered by the low rumble of conversation drifting up from the door below. Behind them, two guards that had been posted at the door lay sprawled out on the landing, unconscious.

“You can try,” Amon said with a resigned sigh, “but I don’t think they are going to listen. This is a gang, not a party hall.”

“Gang’s a very strong word,” Val muttered, glancing over her shoulder towards the guards. They had been half-drunk on their watch, and as easy to sneak up on as they were to knock out. “This isn’t even enough of a shithole town for me to think there isn’t a thieves’ guild outpost somewhere. You’d think the local underground would have some propriety too.”

“You have a lot of faith in petty criminals.”

Val snorted. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let you drag me into infiltrating their safe houses on the hope they might be able to help, would I?”

Amon shrugged agreeably, and turned his attention back towards the door. “Do you want to go first then, or should I?”

“No, no, I’ll take the lead on this one.” Val slipped past him, shoving at him playfully as she passed. “You have an air about you that constantly screams ‘fight me,’ and I’d like to give them something of a sporting chance first.”

She could practically feel the way Amon’s grin curled in the darkness, and only just managed to stifle her own as they began to creep slowly down the rest of the stairs towards the open doorway.

For all that the gang had thought to put guards on the street, they had apparently not felt the need to station them anywhere else; most notably, at the entrance of their hideout proper, which Val strode through without so much as a moment of hesitation.

“Evening ‘gents!” she called as she pushed into the circle of low candlelight. “A moment of your time, please.”

The conversation and clinking of glass ground to an instant halt. All across the room, heads began to swivel towards her, until Val found herself at the attention of a few dozen wide, unfocused stares. She watched them flit between her and Amon - taking in their armor, their weapons, the horns on their heads - and made sure to raise her hands slowly, palms out, as she stepped forward.

“Easy, now. We’re not here to start any shit. We just have a few -”

Something shifted quickly in her periphery, and Val glanced up just in time to catch a bottle whizzing out of the crowd towards her. Her hand went instinctively for her shield, but as usual, Amon was faster; he appeared at her side in an instant and snatched it straight out of the air, wheeling with a terrifying speed before hurling the little vessel back into the crowd the way it came. It landed somewhere near the back of the room with a sickeningly wet shatter of glass, and a wail of pain from some unfortunate soul huddled among the tables. Amon just shook out his hand with a delicate huff that Val would have sworn on her life was an imitation of Sarula’s.

“Don’t you know it is rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking?”

Only the broken sobs of the poor idiot that had thrown the bottle and the twenty-odd people reaching for table knives kept Val from snickering. Instead, she took another quick step forward, hands still outstretched.

“Hey, hey, no need for that. We’re just here to ask some questions, then we’ll be on our merry way. No fights, no bloodshed...well, no more, anyway -”

A gnome sitting at one of the closest rows of tables suddenly scrambled on top of it, producing a serrated bread knife from somewhere beneath the folds of his ratty clothing and jabbing it towards her.

“Piss off!” he sneered. “This ain’t no fuckin’ library! We got no answers for you, ya pissant devil’s brood!”

There was a chorus of agreement through the crowd, and a renewed vigor in sweeping knives off of tables. Out of the corner of her eye, Val saw Amon fielding her a very smug, very knowing little smirk, and just barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“Gods, fine,” she hissed, glaring, “we'll do it your way.”

This time when Val stepped forward, she did so with a hand on the trident hooked onto her belt, and a scowl that sent the thieves in the first row skittering backwards.

“Only one question, then,” she cried out over the din. Her voice boomed in the narrow, earthen space, helped on only slightly by the faint tickle of magic cooling in her throat. “Who’s the biggest, meanest brawler of the lot of you? Who here makes a living better with their fists than with their good sense, eh?”

She watched as the whole room stilled to exchange suspicious glances, and carefully reconsider the grips they had on their knives now that the armored tieflings in front of them were calling for a bruiser. Eventually, though, something stirred near the makeshift bar on the far wall, and Val turned her attention to the figure slowly weaving its way forward. It was a dragonborn, towering a good few inches over the top of even her horns and clutching a pair of nasty looking hand axes. The red scales around his face were patchy, like some had been ripped off a few too many times, and when he grinned, she could see two long rows of crooked bruiser’s teeth.

He stopped a few feet away and settled his bulk against a table, arms folded over his chest.

“That'd be me,” he rumbled, with a wide, humorless grin. Val gave him a quick once over; he had every ounce of her size, and even more height than Tara, with a grip on his weapons that said that he had definitely used them as proper weapons before. But he lumbered when he walked, and swayed on his feet from some nasty combination of long term balance issues and a gut full of drink, and she knew well enough where that would leave him in a proper fight. Sighing, she turned back towards Amon and dropped her hand from where it rested against her trident.

“This one’s yours,” she said, and jerked a thumb towards the dragonborn. “Just don’t kill him, alright? We need to get something out of this little outing, and I’d prefer that something not be us getting thrown in jail.”

“Kill me?” The dragonborn cut in with humorless laugh. He turned over his shoulder to address the crowd behind him, sneering. “They think that this ugly little son of a goat-fucker could actually kill me -”

An enormous fist of hewn earth suddenly burst up from the ground below him, cracking against his jaw with the sound of a few more teeth going crooked. He staggered back against the table behind him with a muffled groan, scattering the front row of gang members as he tried to steady himself on the wood. Amon didn’t wait for that, though; he shifted his stance and the fist shot forward again, this time latching onto the dragonborn with such tremendous force that Val heard the breath whoosh out of his lungs.

He barely had a chance to recover it before Amon set upon him again, covering the distance between them in the span of a second. He made some indiscernible gesture with his hands and the fist’s earthen fingers suddenly shifted into a set of crude stairs, which Amon sprinted up without so much as breaking his stride. He leapt onto the edge of the fist in one smooth motion and sank into a crouch, hissing something in Infernal as he reared back and swung for the dragonborn’s much-abused jaw -

Val saw the bright light burning behind the scales of the dragonborn’s throat too late to call a warning, and suddenly, the whole room erupted in a bright orange cone of flame.

She threw up an arm to blunt the little tongues of fire that curled her way, shielding her eyes from the brightness with the hide-tough skin she knew wouldn’t burn. Through the shadow, she saw Amon redirect himself in midair and swing around behind the dragonborn’s head, entirely unscathed; then she saw nothing, except a flash of dull metal in the brightness. The sound of painful retching and the abrupt stop to the fire painted a clear enough picture though, and she peeked around her arm just in time to catch the sight of Amon towering up from behind the dragonborn’s head, his fist cocked back a second time.

And then, the fight was over. The room, which had just started to get whipped into a frenzy, fell into a sudden, deadly quiet as the dragonborn’s limp body slumped to the ground, coated in a thick slurry of earth that Amon rode back to the floor. He plucked a little mote of lingering fire out of the air as he stepped down onto flat earth again, and began rolling it lazily across his knuckles like a thief with a coin trick, channeling so much casual disinterest into the gesture that Val only barely managed to keep herself from rolling her eyes as she turned back to address the crowd.

“Now,” she said, with a grand flourish towards the unconscious form of the dragonborn, “we could spend all night beating the everloving shit out of each and every one of you. As you can see, it would be fucking easy. Or you could sit down and let us ask a couple of simple questions so that we can let you get back to your evening, and - ”

“Get ‘em!”

Val let her words buckle into in a heavy sigh as the room burst into action, and she shrugged her shield onto her arm. Beside her, Amon let the mote of fire roll into his palm and flare up to his wrist like a gauntlet.

“I told you,” he said in quiet sing-song, grinning. Val tugged the belaying pin strapped to her hip free of its tie with a grunt.

“I know,” she said, twirling it one hand. “I hate it when you’re right.”

------

Barely five minutes later, Val found herself bent over a small writing chest that they had found in the back room, shuffling through paperwork at a table strewn with the slumped and unconscious forms of the gang’s entire payroll. She set a folded piece of parchment covered with scribbled tithe amounts onto the table, and brushed a skinny human woman’s hand aside as she did.

“I can’t believe you didn't leave anyone conscious,” she said over her shoulder, glancing down to where Amon was crouched among the figures strewn around the room.

“You didn’t either,” he pointed out, pushing stiffly to his feet. Val rolled her eyes.

“That’s because I thought you were going to! You know, the person who can stop people in their tracks by punching them in the face. Two birds, one stone and all of that.”

“Well,” said Amon with a dramatic huff, “I didn’t see you trying to hold back at all either. You used that gnome as a table runner!”

He pointed off towards a table a few feet away, which had been swiped clean of its contents in a strip clear down its center. Val eyed the scene for a moment, then shrugged.

“Little asshole tried to pour acid on me. What was I supposed to do?” She turned over another few handfuls of paper and sighed, shutting the chest with a heavy thud. “In any case, I don't think they knew anything anyway. The best kept log here is of when shops in the market quarter open and close. Not exactly anything we couldn’t figure out in a few -”

She broke off at the sound of metal jingling against metal, and turned just in time to catch Amon slip a purse off of the waist of a rather portly looking dwarf and into his hand. Her brow furrowed as he moved on to the female gnome beside him, gingerly peeling back her grimy coat and going for the little leather satchel tied on her hip.

“Are you looting these people?” she asked incredulously. Amon paused to glance up towards her, one eyebrow raised.

“Are you not?”

“No!” Val stepped back and gestured in a wide arc towards the room. “I, personally, think we've done enough to them by knocking every single one of them unconscious!”

“And I think that we deserve a reward for keeping this menace from terrorizing the townsfolk again tonight!” Amon replied. He tugged the purse strings free of the woman’s belt with a decisive pop and slipped it into his bag. Val snorted incredulously.

“And who exactly is going around calling these idiots a menace?”

“Plenty of people!” said Amon. He extracted his fingers from the pockets of the gnome woman and began ticking off names on them. “The guard captain, the mayor, about five different storekeepers…”

“And that pretty little elven girl we met today,” Val hummed, with sudden, dawning realization. A grin curled across her face as she swatted gently at Amon with her tail. “Should’ve guessed you fancied her by the way you were making eyes all afternoon. You intend to go back to her the hero, eh?”

“You misunderstand,” said Amon grimly, “I am simply a concerned traveler who happens to be able to help -"

“Uh-huh.” Val swatted at him again, and snickered when he ducked easily out of the way. “Well, if she happens to ask what happened to this thoroughly roughed up little menace of hers, I won't be heartbroken if you leave my name out of it.”

Amon stroked his chin, considering. “Can I take credit for the thing you did with the half elves between the tables?”

Val snorted. “That, and all of the things you actually did, sure,” she said with a grin. “But leave their pockets alone, alright? Stolen purses might encourage them to take it out on the townsfolk, which is the last thing we…”

Her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on a bottle standing on a table just behind the makeshift bar. It was a squat vessel made of dark brown glass, still corked despite the fact that its wax seal had been entirely shredded, and even from a few feet away, Val could make out the the thick layer of dust coating the surface. Squinting in the dim light, she stepped carefully over the carpet of limp forms and reached over the bar to pluck it off the table, scrubbing at the surface with her thumb. Her finger came away clean; the dust was packed so tightly against it that only her claw scratching at it a few times seemed to make any sort of dent in it at all.

The label had long since faded and been torn away, but Val had stolen enough high quality booze from the longer-lived races to know exactly what she had found.

“Now how did you get this, exactly?” she muttered, glancing over to where the barkeep was tangled in a stool a few feet away. He, predictably, did not answer, so she tugged back the opening of her pack and began to slip the bottle inside.

“That looks nice.”

Val froze, glancing up to find Amon still crouched among the fallen, looking suddenly, unbearably smug. She cleared her throat and shrugged delicately.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t belong to them,” she said, trying to play at nonchalance. “Thought it’d be better if I confiscated it. For now.”

“For now,” Amon echoed skeptically. Val gave a good-natured roll of her eyes and swatted at him again.

“Alright, fine. Take what you’ve got, but don’t overload your pockets,” She slipped the bottle the rest of the way into her pack and slung it over her shoulder. “We still have three more hideouts to hit.”

#my writing #other people's ocs #d&d #d&d shenanigans #oc crap #valtish #this is actually the longest thing i've ever written for the idiots so that's pretty neat #i also had so much fun writing these two just gently heckling each other it's SO MUCH FUN #fortune's favor

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fancymuffinparty · 6 years

Text

Late Night Rendezvous

Rating: T; for language and comic mischief

Pairing: Eren Jaeger/Annie Leonhart

Summary: For Day Four of Ereannie Week 2018! Option A: Mischief. Modern AU.

Eren and Annie’s excellent adventure. Basically. Minus the time travelling, of course.

And all Eren expected to happen after sneaking into her room was a casual makeout session...

Word Count: 1856

A/N: This is a couple days late, but here is my second contribution! :’) The last prompt was kinda angsty, so I’m balancing the feels with some stupid ereannie shenanigans! Hope you enjoy these two lovebirds getting into trouble! :D

It was around nine o’clock when Annie and her father bid one another goodnight and retreated upstairs to their respective bedrooms.

But Annie was still wide awake even after the clock had struck midnight, pacing quietly about her room. Her father had long since fallen asleep, as indicated by the loud snores resounding from behind his door, so she seized the opportunity to text her boyfriend and invite him over for a little late night rendezvous.

In the past, he’d snuck in through her bedroom window, as it was far less risky than trying to sneak him through the front door. ‘Less risky’ in that the two young adolescents had a lower chance of getting caught using this method. The risk of sustaining injury from attempting to climb a somewhat daunting height was still a very real hazard.

The perils of climbing through the window added a certain quality that Annie found rather enticing. The thrills she and her companion got out of it were so rewarding.

Speaking of her companion…

What’s taking him so long? she thought, glancing over at her phone to check the time. The last message relayed between them had been sent nearly an hour earlier.

Before she could compose another message to ensure he was still on his way, she was stopped by the subdued tapping of tiny rocks propelled against her window. Heeding the call, Annie tiptoed her way over and slowly slid the glass window open, her sights directed towards Prince Charming below.

Eren Jaeger was the cutest dork alive- but damn, his timing was the worst.

“You’re late!” Annie chastised him, keeping her voice low so as not to make too much noise.

“Sorry,” Eren apologized, loud enough to wake the neighbor’s dog. The dog’s subsequent barking forced Eren to make haste with his entrance, scrambling up the adjacent ladder Annie had set up earlier in preparation for this very event. “Shit!”

Annie implored him to hurry in earnest. “Are you trying to get us caught?!” she asked, pulling him inside through the window once he’d reached the top. “And what took you so long?”

Eren quickly slid the window shut, relishing in the brief moment of reprieve. “My brother was being a dick and wouldn’t let me borrow the car,” came his hushed reply. “Long story short, I had to bribe him.”

“Well you could’ve texted me to let me know,” Annie muttered, folding her arms across her chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry,” Eren said with a sigh. “I also parked a couple streets over so that might have added another ten minutes to my commute.”

Commute? Annie often found Eren’s colorful vocabulary to be fascinating, but rather than give him a hard time about his word-choice, she merely shook her head in disapproval and asked, “Why didn’t you just park curbside a couple houses down?”

“I didn’t want your dad or any of your tattletale neighbors seeing my car,” Eren replied with a shrug.

Annie quirked a brow. “The neighbors don’t give a damn what cars park on our street. Especially not if they’re sleeping,” she contested. “And you know my dad’s a heavy sleeper. He’s been out since around 9:30.”

Eren wiggled both eyebrows upon hearing that. “So your dad’s asleep, huh? Lucky us!”

Annie simply nodded in response, standing wordlessly before the green-eyed brunet with an expectant look on her face.

Okay… Eren thought. Now what?

Now that they’d established all systems were a go, what exactly was the hold up? Not that Eren was eager to jump into bed or anything…

The silence that fell between the two made him feel awkward, and he proceeded with commencing their late-night rendezvous in equally awkward fashion.

“Soooooo are we gonna kiss now or…?” Eren rubbed the back of his neck nervously, still finding their sneaky arrangements somewhat nerve-wracking in spite of the fact that this was hardly their first rodeo. “Should I lie down…?” His eyes flickered to the bed, before returning to Annie’s stoic gaze.

“Clearly not the romantic type, are we?” Annie scoffed, facepalming herself.

Eren frowned, his feelings only slightly hurt. “Are you kidding? That entrance was something out of a fairytale! No! A Disney movie!”

“Oh my god,” Annie huffed, cringing in silent despair.

“What?” Eren chuckled. “You want me to bring some rose petals next time? So I can sprinkle them all over the bed? Or better yet, we could light some scented candles to set the mood. Or how about-”

“Eren,” Annie interjected, bringing her pointer finger to her lips as a warning. “Keep it down.”

Before Eren could mumble a slightly panicked apology, Annie had reached for his hand, guiding them both to her plush queen sized bed. They slumped down next to each other, knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder. Annie appeared to be on the verge of telling him something.

“There’s a reason I invited you over tonight,” Annie whispered, anticipation flaring in her icy blue eyes.

“A reason other than sex?” Eren quipped, earning him an unimpressed frown. “Kidding,” he added quickly. Well, sort of. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

Annie tilted her head, hesitant. “I’m pining for a little… adventure.”

Eren became instantly curious, prying for details. “Define adventure.”

Realizing they were only losing prime shenanigan time, Annie got straight to the point, shooting Eren a look of determination.

“We…” she drawled, preparing to dole out the command in resolute fashion. “Are going to egg Jean Kirstein’s house.”

In that moment, Eren Jaeger fell madly in love with Annie Leonhart, internally vowing to himself he would wife her so fucking hard someday.

Jean’s house was a measly ten-minute drive.

As Eren’s car neared the Kirstein’s residence, he killed the lights and then waited for Annie’s cue to cut off the engine.

In the blonde’s lap was a carton of a dozen eggs; the real stars of the upcoming show.

Donning a mischievous smirk, Annie pulled her hoodie over her head and turned to give her partner in crime a nod in affirmation. Eren acted accordingly, killing the engine and pulling over his own hood with the intent of masking his identity.

“All right,” Annie ordered, cautiously handing over half of the carton’s eggs. “You remember the plan?”

Eren nodded, accepting the delicate eggs with care. “Blitzkrieg style,” he recapped. “We bum-rush the front yard and fire away.”

“Aim for the windows and the front door,” Annie reminded him, waiting for the right moment to strike. Not a single person was around, and the neighborhood was devoid of any passing cars or barking dogs. “This ought to teach Kirstein never to steal the last donut ever again.”

Was egging someone’s house a justifiable solution to such a minor transgression?

Yes. Yes, it was.

“Ready?” Annie’s question received an instant thumbs up. “Let’s do this.”

They bolted out of the car in unison, both commencing a furious sprint for the Kirstein house. As soon as they set foot behind enemy lines, they wasted no time bombarding the home’s exterior with cracked egg shells and splattered golden yolks. Eren’s aim was decent, but unable to match Annie’s perfect accuracy and precision.

She was about to fire the last one at an obnoxious-looking garden gnome when it suddenly dawned on her.

Wait a minute… the Kirsteins never had that gnome in their front yard…

Annie briefly looked up, eyes roving over the front porch in search of the house’s number.

The Kirsteins’ address is 1005… and that’s…

1007.

Shit.

“Eren!” She abruptly grabbed him by the arm, tugging him away with urgency “Retreat!”

“What? Why?” His dumbfounded question was answered after Annie had pointed out their fatal mistake- realizing they’d targeted the wrong house.

And not just any house.

The Kirstein’s next door neighbor was none other than Keith Shadis; residential hardass and former Marine.

This was the ultimate fuck up.

“Oh, shit!” Eren mouthed, silently mourning his impending death.

As if to seal their fate, the light above the front porch came on, followed by the emergence of a shadowy figure behind the curtains. It was a tall burly man; the homeowner himself no doubt.

Eren and Annie turned and ran with everything they had, pushing themselves to the furthest limit as though their very lives depended on it. Neither looked back, their eyes set for the getaway vehicle to make their escape.

They were about halfway down the street when a booming voice called after them, shattering the eardrums of anyone unfortunate enough to hear within a five-mile radius.

“Hey! Get back here! You little shits are gonna pay for this! HEY!”

The naughty duo finally reached the car and immediately hopped in, struggling to buckle their seatbelts as adrenaline was still coursing through their veins.

“Go, go, go!” Annie commanded, gripping the edge of her seat.

Eren obeyed her instruction and pulled a quick u-turn, speeding down the street in a frenzy.

Once they were out of the neighborhood and back on the main road, Annie leaned back into her seat and expelled a deep groan, hoodie still covering her head.

Close call back there, she thought. Too close.

Eren willed himself to keep his mouth shut but eventually gave in to the laugh surging through his chest, unable to control his riotous cackling.

“How could you mistake Jean’s house for Shadis’ house?!” he bellowed, voice heavy with laughter. “We’ve visited enough to know what it looks like!”

“In my defense,” Annie began, still mulling over their narrow escape, “The streetlights were unusually dim, and it’s fucking pitch black outside.” Never mind the fact that the Kirstein’s lived in neighborhood where the houses were all cookie cutter versions of the other.

Eren took note of her slightly traumatized demeanor, attempting to ease the tension the best way he knew how.

His fine-tuned idiocy, of course.

“Relax, babe. We’re safe now,” Eren remarked casually. “By the way, that’s one hell of an arm you got there. Kinda turned me on.”

Annie rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the upturned lips of the smile etched on her face. She turned to look out of the passenger window, ensuring it was hidden from Eren’s view so as not to give him a single ounce of encouragement.

She remained unresponsive, until…

“I think that’s about as much ‘adventure’ as I can handle,” she quipped, cynicism oozing from each word. “Ought to satisfy me for a lifetime.”

Eren suddenly hatched an idea, knowing just the right thing to cap their impromptu excursion. “Care for one more adventure?” he asked. “It’s a fairly tame one. I promise.”

Annie’s interest was immediately piqued. “And what would that be?”

“We’d go on a little hunt.”

“A hunt for what?”

Eren was so glad she asked. “The nearest donut shop.” To celebrate, of course. As well as atone for the donut Jean had stolen earlier that week. Luckily, the nearest twenty-four-hour shop was a short drive away, and they still had a few hours until dawn.

One more adventure couldn’t hurt…

In that moment, Annie Leonhart fell madly in love with Eren Jaeger, internally vowing to marry the shit out of him someday.

#ereani #ereannie #ereannieweek2018 #day four option a: mischief #mywriting #these two make a solid pair #i'd like to think eren brings out the more lighthearted side of annie #i definitely prefer writing dorky pretimeskip eren's personality #he was so much more lively back then...#sigh #posttimeskip eren is cool too dont get me wrong #i like that hes more mature i suppose #anywayyyy #eren exploits annie's love for donuts #for a good cause mostly ;)

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rogue-rook · 7 years

Text

many many highlights from The Crystal Kingdom from a first-time TAZ listener

featuring some bits from the Lunar Interlude II: Internal Affairs

travis: “it was streaming on witch. that’s like magical twitch!”

SWEET ANGO HAS RETURNED!

i cannot believe griffin went to the EFFORT of making a fantasy costco jingle

the lockpicking garden gnome called the Nitpicker that insults the damn party is a beyond brilliant object for sale at the fantasy costco

I really want to lodge a complaint with the HR department of the bureau of balance on sweet angus macdonald’s behalf bc these grown men are FULL ON BULLYING THIS TEN YEAR OLD BOY GENIUS

so is this new shitty scientist consultant lucas a bigger annoyance than shitty train butler wizard jenkins or does jenkins still retain that title

travis: "anything this touches turns to crystal?" griffin: "yeah, pink tourmaline" travis: "yeah, I'm not gonna say that, because I'm an adult"

CAREY FANGBATTLE is like on par with Jess the Beheader in terms of Cool Names

griffin: “so the three of you are currently sitting in a gondola, which is another word for a little boat” travis, singing: “the more you knoooowww”

“so it’s made of crystal, right?” “yes, everything is crystal” x1000000

the crystal kingdom song is beautiful

griffin: “you see a sign that says The Magical World Of Elevators” justin: “griffin's really stickin it to the people who say he's not allowed to have elevators in this game”

today in failed brand marketing: “Upsy, your lifting friend”

this arc is ACTUALLY set up like a video game level puzzle, when griffin says “ah, you’ve solved my crystal puzzle” it will actually apply

clint: “I rolled a 4 but I get another roll...a 5″ travis: “wow, you're really bad at dnd”

merle: “I'm gonna use Banishment on the cockroach” griffin: “okay, you're just gonna yell GET OUT OF HERE COCKROACH, I DONT LOVE YOU ANYMORE”

magnus is being fucking mean to lucas, the genius inventor, and he’s been a TOTAL DICK to sweet boy genius detective angus macdonald, and i feel like pointing out that he was WAYYY nicer to shitty evil wizard train butler jenkins who beheaded a guy with a teleportation door

griffin: “one of the signs is labeled Radiation Ventilation Maintenance Chamber, and the other is labeled Lil Genius BuddyBot R&D" travis: "I feel like this is a trick” clint: “I feel like griffin has been playing Fallout”

I LOVE HODGE PODGE THE LIL GENIUS BUDDYBOT!!! EVEN IF HE TURNS OUT TO BE EVIL, THE SOUND OF HIS VOICE MADE ME LOVE HIM PRETTY INSTANTLY AND NOTHING CAN CHANGE THAT

hodge podge: “magnus! merle! take-o” goddamnit griffin

justin: “can we just put the stone of far speech in front of the robit and griffin, you can just talk to yourself?”

hodge podge is exactly the kind of unsettling demon robit with a mostly-adorable voice, except for when he goes demon-y, that I expected from griffy

justin: “my character taako has innate skills in: investigation, nature, history, religion, arcana, and religion” so is he double good at religion then

taako: “okay, I got a question for you: who....do we work for?”

lucas: “hey, are you just mean to everyone?” THANK GOD SOMEONE VOICED THIS LEGITIMATE FUCKING CONCERN, THE GRUBBY GRIFTERS ARE MONSTERS

clint: “I look up what scrumbled means” griffin: “justin said that in a Monster Factory once and I’ve been using it like it’s a real word” justin: “I am the lewis carroll of my generation”

noel the friendly medic robit’s voice started at vaguely-angus like and then became straight up country southern and i really hope somebody calls griffin on it

i really think griffin introduced the nitpicker so he could have a way of introducing his own critiques of his dad and brothers’ dnd skills

the little compact mirror has some shit in it that i think must be important

there’s a rift in space and time and pink tourmaline is coming out of it and the damn song is super ominous and making me MEGA NERVOUS and honestly i don’t know what the flying goddamn fuck is happening but i am SO INTO IT

lucas: “you’re just yelling hugbears at me” magnus: “BUG! HEARS!” “what” “what”

so is lucas just like holding these poor bugbears in fucking slavery

the grubby grifters discover the tourmalined body of boyland and magnus asked if he can DESECRATE THE GODDAMN BODY OF HIS TRAGICALLY DECEASED COWORKER

griffin: “these two figures are just taking these ice robits to Fool School”

awww they’re gonna fight one of my favorite little creepy crawlies! human sized tardigrades that will absolutely fuck their shit up!!! so cute

griffin: “you’re so loosey-goosey with your possessions! ‘hi scuddle-buddy! bye scuddle-buddy! go get on that train to hell!’”

clint/merle’s immediate panic when they decide the only option here is to CHOP HIS GODDAMN ARM OFF

killian, after picking lucas up: “THIS HAS BEEN THE WORST SHITTIEST DAY EVER, WE ARE TWO PEOPLE DOWN, YOUR LAB SUCKS!!” #relatable, I feel u killian

during this arc the mcelboys keep talking about how they don’t remember shit from the beginning of the show bc that was two years ago and im like what? what? that was three days ago, friends!! its bc ive binged this shit in under a WEEK

merle basically has a plant fetish okay, that’s the only reason this soul-wood shit worked

griffin: “it actually curls up and gives you a thumbs up as if to say 'hey! I'm your arm now!’”

so like this planar system shit is probably important, right

this parseltongue motherfucker that’s like fucking haunting the grubby grifters needs to start explaining what their whole, like, DEAL is

this Red Robe dude is having a FREAKOUT over the damn umbrella and im like mmmmm maybe taako shouldn’t have just taken the damn umbrella, no questions asked

killian’s scanner is having a major freakout over a lich being present and im like, yeah, its the fucking umbrella, yall

oh, real quick, the mcelboys gotta pause the action to whine at each other about character voices

killian: “I am going to ABSOLUTELY murder that man” yeah, killian remains the most goddamn relatable npc in this fucking world

i sure hope The Adventure Zone Zone doesn’t have any super important info in it, bc im not gonna listen to the mcelboys talk about the maxfun drive from two fucking years ago

the crystal golem just called the grubby grifters bounties, and said it was time for noelle the friendly medic robit and the grubby grifters to all go back to the astral plane and im like WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? GRIFFIN! WHAT?

OH FUCK ITS BEEN KRAVITZ THIS WHOLE GODDAMN TIME!!!!! KRAVITZ!!!!!

griffin: “a D6 is like a dice-ass-dice! that's like some monopoly shit!!”

kravitz: “i don’t even know how that even worked, like with physics”

taako: “luke! use the fork!” merle: “the fork will be with you, always”

magnus: “I want to roll an investigation check on noelle...I rolled a 2″ griffin: “okay well you know noelle is a robot”

YALL!! SHITTY TRAIN BUTLER WIZARD JENKINS AND MAGIC BRIAN THE GERMAN MORON BOTH CAME BACK!!

magic brian the german dumbass: “i had an invitation to my wedding for you, and instead of RSVP-ing, you murdered me!”

travis: “when you say they evaporate, do they go back to heaven or hell or the after plane, or whatever, or are they GONE?” griffin: “it kinda seems like you obliterated their soul. kinda seems like you just kinda ERASED them” travis: “you know, at the end of day, I punch people, but dad unmakes their existence, who's the real monster?”

the fact that noelle died in phandolin when the grubby grifters and gundren rockseeker turned the whole town to glass is so goddamn fucking tragic, THANKS GRIFFIN!!!!

lucas miller: yet more proof that dickin around with science and magic and mad scientist shit is always gonna end badly for everyone

kravitz: “taako, you’ve died eight times”...[...]..”magnus, you’ve died 19 times”...[...]...”merle highchurch, the richest bounty i have ever hunted, you have died 57 times” WHAT?? WHAT? WHAT???? WHAT???? GRIFFIN!!??? WHAT????

THIS STORYLINE IS LIT

griffin: “a legion of ghosts” justin: “great”

i think both griffin and I have forgotten that carey fangbattle and killian are in this scene. also merle has had a soul-bond wood arm this whole time

the grubby grifters beat a goddamn LEGION of ghost robits, or ghrobits, and then kravitz slides back into the scene all like “uh, hey, assholes, thanks for saving me, I’ll make up some legal loophole bullshit to thank you” that’s not a direct quote, that’s me editorializing. i fucking love kravitz

taako: "they found new bodies, just because they're mechanical doesn't mean the life is any less valid - battlestar galactica"

oh fuck magnus got a cheating deck of cards in like episode goddamn THREE and he just whips em out in episode fucking 39 against kravitz

kravitz, massively misunderstanding the assholes he’s talking to: “the rules of nature are there for a reason, so lets just stop running afoul of them, as if this all just funsy-fun make-believe!”

magnus: “kravitz! tell julia I love her” TRAVIS!!!! TRAVIS MCELROY! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO MY HEART!!!

lucas: “you'll never see me again, but if you do, i'll be doing good, and please don't kill me instantly”

justin: “i give angus a thumbs down” motherfuckers

killian: “hell yes! I love this plan! me and carey, and a robot ghost with a gun arm! sounds like a plan!” magnus: “sounds like a spinoff!” killian: “that’s sounds like some torchwood shit!”

davenport the goddamn pokemon

on one hand, I’m really goddamn suspicious that the director isn’t actually destroying the relics but is collecting them for her own gain. but on the other hand, if this turns out to not be true, I will feel bad for suspecting her so hard

taako: “director, here’s the truth. what did you have for lunch on Dec 3 2015? you don’t remember right? that’s when you told us not to talk to the Red Robes. what’s I’m saying is WE FORGOT!”

YOOO THIS EPILOGUE PROPHECY IS SOOOOOOO COOOOOL GRIFFIN!!! WHAT IS THIS!!!! ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!

this was a wild wild wild wild ride and whatever griffin is doing with this story is LIT

#balance arc #the adventure zone #the crystal kingdom #mcelroys #mine

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