#hi new people who’ve just finished the book and are looking for content in the tags

[astralbooks]

Youngblood - Sasha Laurens

Read: 15/07/22 - 21/07/22

Rating: 2/5

Rep: lesbian main characters, f/f relationship, gay side character, biracial British Indian side character, Chinese side character, non-binary minor character

CW: racism, antisemitism, homophobia, bullying, violence, murder & attempted murder, death of a parent (in backstory), food insecurity, toxic relationship, depiction of a panic attack, underage alcohol consumption, emesis

Review:

I was supposed to be on a blog tour for this book, but the tour was cancelled due to problematic content. Having now finished reading this book for myself, I can see why.

This book is trying to be a look at how the capitalist upper class do not care about and actively exploit those who they see as being beneath them, and that even the rich people who aren’t actively involved in hurting others like this are still passively accepting this system and perpetuating that hurt in the process. That’s what it’s trying to do. Taylor and Galen just not getting it whenever Kat ran into a roadblock or couldn’t take a certain risk due to her precarious position because they’re used to things being easy for them because they’re rich vampires who’ve never had to worry about where their next meal would come from came close to being a decent allegory for class differences in reality. However, Kat always fell short of putting it into words that these two, especially Taylor as she got angry with Kat more than once over Kat’s unwillingness to throw everything she had away, could never fully understand what her life had been like and so why she felt like she had to act a certain way as a result. Also, the reveals near the end of the book undermined this whole message, so. Never mind, I guess.

Other reviewers have spoken about the antisemitism present in this book, so I’m not going to be saying anything new here. One of the people involved in the plot to secretly control the world using blood is literally compared to a lizard at one point. I’m sure that Laurens didn’t intend to incorporate antisemitic tropes, but it’s something that authors writing about vampires need to be careful of, and the lizard comparison makes it blatantly clear that Laurens wasn’t careful.

When protagonist Kat points out that this super expensive and selective school, only attended by those deemed ‘the best of the best’ by the headmaster, only has seven students who aren’t white, and asks why this is, she get the response, from the other protagonist who we’re supposed to also be rooting for, that poc probably wouldn’t want to come to a school this elitist anyway. Not that the way the system has been designed means that poc are excluded from the opportunities that rich white people have, but that they wouldn’t want to come in the first place. And then the matter is dropped and never brought up again. Huh?

There are two major characters of colour in this book. One is Galen, the super rich heir to a shady family business, whose mother is Indian. His dad was with the British East India Company, y’know, that colonised and committed atrocities in India, and he harassed Galen’s mother for years into accepting his proposal, and this is apparently supposed to be ‘not as messed up as it sounds.’ The screenshot has been floating around Twitter recently, and it would be one thing if it was shown that Galen is wrong about it not being messed up or that he’s trying to convince himself that it’s okay when it’s not, but that’s not what’s going on here. Kat drops the discussion, and doesn’t think about it any further, and it’s never addressed. I don’t believe that if a character says something in a book that automatically means the author believes it, but this revisionist history being left entirely unchallenged in a YA novel is at best irresponsible, especially when coming from a white author. Later on, Galen is asked why he’s not in the school’s society for students of colour, and he brushes it off saying that it’s not really for people like him. What’s that supposed to mean? He’s not white, but not so not white that he considers it to be an important part of him, and he seems to view himself as being above poc who do see it as important. Again, this comment is made without note and is left unchallenged, and while there could be room for a story exploring this disconnect in his identity, this story doesn’t get explored here, and shouldn’t really be tackled by a white author anyway.

The other major character of colour is a girl specifically described as being Chinese named Lucy. Lucy is a social media influencer and forms half of a mean girl duo with white girl Evangeline. Lucy’s role in the story is to introduce the concept of vampiric charisma to the reader, that’s how she got all her followers after all, and to cause a major incident in the book. Lucy throws a party at which she brings along some humans for the vampires in attendance to drink from, which is shown to be an unambiguously violent and horrific thing for her to do and for people to be participating in. The Chinese character is the most actively violent and has amassed a large following through mind control. Um??? 

The endings for both of these characters are also worth mentioning. Galen is left in a difficult position, with his future looking uncertain and unstable, and the main characters wonder if they could’ve done more to help him before ultimately shrugging it off. Lucy and Evangeline both tormented Kat and Taylor throughout the book, but at the end of everything Taylor is still in contact with Evangeline and they’re on kinda good terms, while Lucy is despised by them both and Kat’s going around telling her human friends that Lucy is ‘problematic’ and that they should unfollow her. First, I died a little inside at the Twitter-style phrasing, which Kat said out loud, because of the level of understatement there. Second, and more importantly, the white girl can be forgiven for everything she did, but the non-white characters can’t and either have to be left in a worse position than they started in or have to be completely villainised. Why is that? Why were these characters written in this way? I mean, we know why. It’s unacceptable, and frankly it’s gross.

There’s a minor running theme through this book that being apathetic and constantly judging everyone around you aren’t good things, and spending your life thinking you’re better than everyone else is only going to make you and the people around you miserable. Except this is first said by characters (Lucy and Evangeline) who don’t take their own advice, and Taylor never seems to learn it either, and right at the start Taylor was girl-hatey about people who hadn’t done anything to her except exist in her proximity, and in the end I could see what Laurens was trying to do but I think she seriously missed the mark.

Has Laurens ever met a teenager? The school doesn’t have a set of rules, instead it has an ‘Honor Code’ that students are expected to apply to every situation and magically know whether they are or aren’t allowed to do something according to it, with them potentially getting in a lot of trouble if they guess wrong. When I was in year 12, so when I was the same age as the characters here, my school had a dress code. The intention behind it was for us to dress smartly, but it was pretty specific in weird and unnecessary ways, especially for girls, disallowing some things that were perfectly workplace appropriate and allowing some things that were decidedly not. Of course, this led to many people making sure to wear things in the latter category. We ended up having an assembly telling us that we needed to dress ourselves according to ‘the spirit of the dress code’, a phrase which became an instant school-wide meme because of how ridiculous it was. If it wasn’t specifically written down in the rules, and sometimes even if it was specifically written down in the rules but we disagreed with it, then it wasn’t getting obeyed. Kat worrying about the Honor Code made sense, but any other student in that school citing it at any point absolutely did not. They wouldn’t care. Have you ever met a 16/17 year old who’s that pressed about not making their school look bad? Over ‘rules’ that aren’t even concretely written down anywhere? I certainly haven’t.

I’m aware that the Harry Potter reference in the arc is changed into a Star Wars reference in the final version of the book, however this reference shouldn’t have made it this far in the first place. Rowling showed her hand long enough ago that it’s baffling that Laurens included it at all. Plus, the reference is in the context of negatively describing how somebody looks, so either way it comes off as mean spirited and not strictly necessary.

I enjoyed the way that the scene detailing Kat’s queer crisis was written, with her spiralling thoughts being intercut with what she was physically doing at the time. I appreciated that it was highlighted that while some queer people always know that they’re queer, some queer people do not, and the belief that queer people always knew who they were from the moment they were capable of forming thought can do more harm than good to people who are questioning. I liked that Kat figured out that she liked girls, and thought that she probably didn’t like guys, but ultimately put the label question to the side as her actively liking girls, and specifically Taylor, was the more important thing. Taylor calls herself a lesbian many times, so this wasn’t a case of a weird aversion to the word lesbian, but for a lot of people it’s not that simple and it’s not that clear cut and all they’ll achieve by trying to pin themselves down immediately is extra stress. Kat is most likely a lesbian, but her figuring out that she’s definitely attracted to women, and deciding that figuring out for certain whether she’s attracted to men too or not is a problem for another day, was an approach that I did enjoy.

It doesn’t make up for any of the racism though. Not even a little. And the relationship between the girls didn’t quite hit for me, either. I would not recommend this book.

Thank you to Razorbill, TBR and Beyond Tours, and NetGalley for an e-arc of this book

#review #book review #youngblood #sasha laurens #books #booklr

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

The way I’m holding you

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x female reader

Content: Kissing, morning cuddles, pure cavity-inducing fluff, Ezra getting the love (and the break) he deserves

Word count: ~870

Note: I finished something! Hope you enjoy! (also massive thanks to my beloved @keeper0fthestars without whom this wouldn’t exist, because encouragement is the best writing fuel)

Taglist (I only tag people who’ve asked, so if you’d like to be added or removed just say the word): @pedropascalito @songsformonkeys @emesispo @yespolkadotkitty @flightlessangelwings @keeper0fthestars @writemessystarwars @bestintheparsec @wille-zarr @maxiarapamaya @lv7867

------------------------------------

“I love you, Ezra.”

He’s stretched out on his back beside you, as contented as a cat in the thin rays of sunshine that stream through gauzy curtains. Broad shoulders test the limits of the narrow bed you share every night, tangled up in each other like a pair of climbing vines, unsure where one ends and the other begins.

Ezra turns to look at you with dark eyes gone soft, almost solemn. His fingertips trace a meandering path on your leg where it rests folded across his sturdy thighs.

His voice is a sleep-roughened rasp. “Petal, I must crave your indulgence to repeat that for me.”

You smile, move over him in a warm press of bare skin that makes the breath hitch in his throat.

“I love you.” It’s punctuated with a brush of your mouth over his own that finds his lips plush and yielding.

One strong hand finds the back of your neck, holds you as he surges up into the kiss, the corded muscles of his shoulders taut with the motion. It’s only when you’re breathless that he lets his head drop back to the pillow, the ghost of a smile dimpling his cheek.

“That a wastrel like myself should claim such a treasure,” he muses, calloused thumb stroking over your lower lip. “More precious than all the gems with which this fickle galaxy tempts a man’s soul.”

You shake your head, mock-scolding. “Call my lover a wastrel again, and I’ll fight you.”

His face lights up with a laugh, the sun coming out from behind the clouds when teasing twinkles in his eyes. “Consider me put in my place, pretty flower. Never let it be said that I should kindle the spark of righteous violence in our little haven.”

His chest is warm against your cheek when you lay your head over his thrumming heart to smile into his skin, press a kiss to his bereft right shoulder.

The apartment isn’t much, but it’s home and it’s yours. You’ve filled it with books and potted plants and the harmonies of your laughter and Ezra’s honeyed drawl, and after rootless years of scrabbling in the dirt to make other people rich, it might as well be heaven.

Ezra sighs heavily, a comfortable sound. His lone hand trails over your back, deft fingertips finding every pearl of your spine from neck to hips and back again.

You prop yourself up to sit, looking your fill of him.

His hair is tousled by his pillow into a mess of wayward, curling tufts, that little patch of spun gold a beacon in the chocolate brown. Fathomless eyes study you with quiet keenness, framed by lines born of smiles more than weariness, these days.

A strong arm and a broad chest speak to the manual labor of his life’s work, but there’s a new softness at his middle that warms your heart, means rest and home-cooked meals instead of too few rations for too many hours.

Your fingers stroke over the patchy beard that covers his jaw. Giving in to the usual impulse, you bend to drop kisses on the two spots, one on either side of his chin, where hair stubbornly refuses to grow. Beneath your lips, his cheeks plump with a smile.

“I cannot claim to understand your fascination with the unfruitful ground of my face, Petal,” he says, though his expression betrays his pleasure with it.

Stubble tickles your lips as you repeat the action. “Well...that’s where Kevva kissed you.” Kiss. Kiss. "After she weaved you together from stardust and stories, and wanted to show off her best creation.”

His smile widens, and is it the light, or has a flush crept over his neck?

“Now, that is a poetic notion.” His hand catches one of yours, brings it to his lips, trails a lingering kiss over your palm to where the blood sings in the delicate veins of your wrist. A flick of his tongue over the soft skin makes your pulse trip over itself. “My flower has quite a way with words.”

Warmth blooms in your cheeks with his caresses and his praise. “You would know.”

Ezra's hand slides up your arm to cradle the back of your head in his big, work-worn palm, coaxing you back to him to capture your mouth with his. He’s patient now, even leisurely, no edge of urgent desire flavoring his kiss even as his fingers move to skim feather-light over your skin. Lips meet, separate, come together again like the tide with the shore, tirelessly, eagerly, blissfully.

“I love you.” He breathes it into the air you share, hawkish nose nuzzling at your own. “Body and soul, Petal.”

Perfect happiness flutters in your chest, tingles in your limbs. Ezra is all the beauty you’ve ever craved, and he’s yours and you’re his.

You’re seized by a foolish wish to write a thank-you note to the crew leader who took one disparaging look at you and shuffled you off to team up with the one-armed prospector with a roguish grin and silver tongue.

Instead, you press a smile to his mouth, and another.

“And I love you, Ezra.”

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra (prospect) #ezra (prospect) x reader #pedro pascal #ezra prospect x female reader #ezra (prospect) x female reader #prospect movie

[small-round-and-angry]

My opinions about the Loki (2021) series. Spoilers and all that.

I took some time off the fandom until I felt it was time to make this post, if only to get it out of my system, so I can finally rest. I thought, since I was so pumped for the series to begin with, before it was launched and everything, and how I waited to expectantly for every episode that was airing weekly, that the empty feeling I was experiencing after it was all done was just because, well, it was all done.

I thought maybe it was the normal empty-chested-feeling you get when you finish a movie, series, or book that you really liked / waited a lot for.

It was not it. It didn’t pass. It got worse.

I’m going to put this under a cut, and under the anti-tags, because I know some people liked this show and not everyone has to be miserable with me.

I want to preface this by saying that I respect everyone that was involved in this project, and I know that it may be gut-wrenching to receive criticism on something that you worked in, but I feel cheated. I feel lied to. It’s one thing to work hard and be thoughtful and still receive bad reviews, but I don’t think this is the case at all.

To start it all, I was so excited to see Loki again. He’s the only character that I maintained any attachment to throughout so long, sometimes more, sometimes less, but I always considered myself a fan since I saw The Avengers (2012) with my parents in the theaters, at the ripe age of 12. To be honest, Loki was what got me into superhero movies, and into the marvel fandom at all. And I knew, or at least suspected, that they would do something different with the character. I was ready for that, after reading the comics and realizing that MCU Loki and Comics Loki are two different versions of the same character (more on that later). And I thought it was even going to be for the best, since Tom Hiddleston, bless his heart, was one of the executive producers and, I thought, would have more of a say on Loki’s character arc during the series.

What I watched was, to be completely fair with myself, not Loki. I couldn’t really pinpoint it at the time, but I keep expecting something to happen after he was captured by the TVA to show us his mind at work. A scheme, a plan, anything remotely smart that he cooked up. And yet, nothing. He kept acting…Not Loki. As time passed, I hoped he was biding his time, fooling everyone, that he would reveal his masterplan at the season finale and go back to the main timeline. The series ended and I didn’t see Loki, any of them, act as Loki once.

Maybe it’s because I am a fan of the older version of MCU Loki. The darker, more complicated one. I didn’t want a redeeming arc at all, I don’t think all villains or anti villains need a redeeming arc. That’s boring. And, to my interpretation of his character, shouldn’t be in his future at all. Loki thrives on the gray area. I love not knowing what he is to the other characters, the chaos, the lying and manipulation, the grand schemes. This new content we’ve been getting, since Ragnarok, depict him as a more comedic, campy character (which is …fine? Meh, I don’t care for it).

And of course, that’s not to say Tom Hiddleston didn’t do a good job. Poor man did his best with what was given to him by the writers. It’s hard to keep a character consistent, however, when every director and screenwriter seems to have a different idea of who they are. He kept it together fairly well when Taika attempted to assassinate Loki’s character, but Kate Herron snapped his neck harder than Thanos ever could. And for what?

Sylvie.

Now, hear me out. There’s nothing wrong with the concepts of Sylvie, Lady Loki, and a Love interest. Separately. In trying to bring everything together in one character, the writers not only could not come up with a compelling woman character, but also had to bring down an already well established character, the TITULAR character, no less, so she could look somewhat presentable, which is insulting. And they Still failed. I don’t like the pairing either, but that’s not what I’m talking about (right now). The truth is, I don’t know Sylvie. She just got here, I have no emotional attachment to her whatsoever, so I won’t feel for her the same I feel for Loki, who’ve I watched for almost a decade. And instead of trying to build an emotional connection between Sylvie and the viewer, they chose to spoon-feed us a romance between her and Loki.

Well, more between Loki and Her, and not even that. I felt like Loki was always trailing her like a lost puppy, and big eyes and expectations, and she was giving him…Absolutely nothing. All the sweet moments between them were initiated by him, all the talking about feeling were done by him, all the looks and gestures…And although I understand Sylvie grew up in apocalypses and Loki grew up in a palace, she still claimed to have romantic partners. Multiple, man and women. And still, showed no visible interest in Loki up until the kiss scene, which I suspect was more to shut him up and send him flying that anything.

Excuse me if I want Loki to have a love interest who is actually invested in him too.

And Why make her a Loki variant at all if she is adamant she isn’t Loki? Why go to the extent of dying her hair blonde (where in the apocalypse did she manage to get her hair blonde? WHY?) and then give her horns? If she was taken as a child, where did she get the very Asgardian like leather armor she used? WHERE IS THIS INFORMATION?

If they were going to go so far to alienate her from the identity of being a Loki variant just so they could pair her with Loki and it not be weird (it was), why make her a variant at all? If you’re going to make a selfcest pairing, at least commit to it. Sylvie Lushton, from where they got the name, isn’t a Loki Variant, if anything She’s an Amora Variant. Why name her Sylvie if she has no relation to Amora?

The plot has so many holes and is so disappointing. I was promising Loki playing around and causing havoc with time traveling. When I saw Richard E. Grant had been cast, I imagined the big bad would be King Loki, like in the comics! Something about Loki seeing what he becomes if he let darkness completely consume him, and finding balance in his chaos, after all. The premise of Loki healing though observing himself, or variants of himself, was honestly good. His variants, however, where so underused, poorly used, made Loki look like a fool. Even he was ashamed of their interactions. And Kid Loki apparently Killed Thor, which makes him the leader (???) and that’s never mentioned again. President Loki, who was a big part of the appeal of the trailer, is gone in two minutes. And then there’s the mirror scene from the trailer, that didn’t even make it to the series.

There are other things that bother me a lot about this too, but it’s not my place to discuss them in dept. To list, if anyone is interested in knowing: The underdevelopment of black character, and the reaction of the fandom, to my knowledge, to said black characters, in special Ravonna and Boastful Loki. The misrepresentation of gender fluid people, which if I can recall was one of the points they sold to us as something they would touch into Loki’s characterization. Some people have pointed out that it was biphobic to pair Loki with a woman after he “came out” on screen as bisexual. I am bisexual, and I disagree, but I can see why it’s an issue for a lot of people, as mlm relationships are rare in MCU canon. What I thought was Biphobic, however, was having Loki not show us he was bi, rather than telling us.

In summary, I am very disappointed, and I am mourning. This series managed to do what End Game didn’t, which was kill all hope I had to ever have Loki back. He’s gone.

#anti loki series #anti sylki #anti sylvie x loki #loki series criticism #loki series spoilers #loki series negativity

[alluringjae]

[ 23:45 ] ⮕ END   

part of my collection of cookie cuts from all i do is wait

in order to understand, read the main story first here.

pairing: ghost!doyoung x female!reader

genre: angst, sum fluff if you really squint

warnings: death, grief

author’s note: someone asked me how i would interpret this scene, so here it is. this hurt A LOT. have fun though!

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Mid-1953

At long last, the Korean War has ended after 3 years.

Over 5 million people dead, and to be one of the lucky survivors was a miracle.

The remaining soldiers who’ve fought through it all could return home, whilst civilians can properly rebuild all that was devastatingly destroyed in their cities. Their own normal lives included.

The fiercest 3 years of your life must you say, too engaged with self-studying your history books saved pre-war while dealing with the bargaining stage of your grief towards Doyoung. Every day, you couldn’t go on without overthinking the what-ifs. On top of that, your toddler Areum was at the stage where she loved creating a mess on the walls with her crayons. No matter how many times you’ve corrected her because it wasn’t your house, she continued anyway.

Now, she’s full-blown crying after you confiscated them and you’re on the verge of it. Thankfully, your mother stepped in to take her out for a walk in the neighborhood so you could unwind for a bit.

Since news broke out that the war ended, everyone from every street cheered and danced on the streets. You hailed with praise along with them, positive that things were going to get better. Yet deep down, you’ve selfishly wished that he was one of the lucky few to come home.

If only you didn’t chicken out so easily after he told you he was enlisting so you had a few more seconds with him.

If only you compromised him to join another field.

If only you told him about Areum earlier so he could go home.

These thoughts revolved your mind the most, instantly getting you to break down wherever you were. Even photos of him and you together were enough to tear down your walls. So, they remained hidden until the day you’re in a much better state of mind.

Dear god, you longed for him. Everything that consists of him.

In hopes to forget this tremendous loss in your life, you poured hot tea in a cup and started on this new book from this ongoing series, The Chronicles of Narnia. Getting it during this harsh period was tough, bartering it with old books you’ve owned in the market.

Fully preoccupied in the fantastical universe, flipping the pages quickly, you almost missed the continuous knocking on your door. You let out a tiny gasp and made your way to the entrance. As delusional to think it was Doyoung, you knew it wasn’t your mother and Areum either because they would’ve simply walked in. Opening it anyways, you were met by two young tall men. One had a bandage on his cheek while the other had a cast on his right arm. Noting their growing hair, they must’ve fought in the war.

Oh, if Doyoung was one of them.

“Hello, may I know who you two are?”

The one with the bandage spoke up, bowing first. “Hello, I am Lee Taeyong and this is my friend, Kim Jungwoo. We were good friends of your late lover, Kim Doyoung.”

Late lover.

Haven’t heard that since people in the neighborhood gossiped about your taboo pregnancy, but it’s not like they knew anyways. But from the letters exchanged with Doyoung before, he talked about these two highly. Whenever there were times of ease while serving, Doyoung was always up to mischievous things with these two. In a situation where they had to man up, they brought out his inner child.

“Oh, yes! Doyoung used to talk about you two in his letters, but I had no clue how you guys looked.”

By instinct, you invited them inside for tea by the patio. You’ve always wanted to meet them despite the circumstances. Bringing in a tray with a teapot and treats, mostly you were inquiring about their lives. Aside from knowing their positions in the team, you learned of their new plans moving forward.

“I want to return to university to finish my studies in mechanical engineering, maybe travel the world too.” Jungwoo stated, blowing on his cup before sipping it. He’s said to be an organized man according to Doyoung, always cautious of his surroundings. It balanced out his liveliness.

“Me too! I want to complete my major in finance, then marry my childhood sweetheart after a few years.” Taeyong expounded, his round eyes glowed in wonder. He must’ve been looking forward to this day, and you were content for him. Meanwhile, it processed to Taeyong what he said, realizing that it may have been insensitive.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He burst out instantly. “I got stuck in my feelings there.”

“It’s okay, nothing to worry about. You shouldn’t apologize for how you feel.”

“I do think we should feel worried about you though.” Jungwoo interrupted, sighing heavily. “What happened with Doyoung-hyung all those years ago, we’re really concerned for you especially.”

At the mention of the painful memory, this wasn’t the right time to crumble. You weren’t capable to show your vulnerability to anyone but yourself. Plastering a wrenching pretend smile, “I appreciate the concern, truly. But I’ll be okay again. I’m planning to return to university too, then proceed to law school. A shared dream of mine and his.”

Taeyong and Jungwoo transparently viewed you like glass, coping with the grief of it. They were on the same page as you, and unaware to you, they knew his final words. With their interpretation, it only felt right to reach out to you. Befriend you, aid you in any possible way.

At the end of the day, three of you equally shared the suffering over the death of a loved one.

Sitting in peaceful silence, the front door creaked open followed by a tiny, high-pitched voice squealing.

“We’re home!” Your mother shouted.

“I’m at the patio, we have guests over!” You replied, pouring more tea for the two quiet boys.

From such a low-spirited atmosphere only did it liven up when an energetic Areum came into your setting. She had pigtails this time, satisfying herself with fresh bungeo-ppang from the neighborhood. No matter what you’re feeling, it took a single glance of her with her small moon-like eyes to recharge you.

“Mom, who are your friends here?” She pondered cluelessly.

The two boys exchanged looks at each other first, then to you in one breath. Their expressions of perplexity by how one’s hand was on their mouth and the other boy couldn’t stop staring at Areum, you identified exactly what they were thinking of.

“Areum, these are your dad’s friends in the army.” You animatedly confirmed. “The one with that tiny bandage on his face is uncle Taeyong, and the one with the white cast is uncle Jungwoo.”

Doyoung’s death was already so heavy to take in, but upon discovering this hidden surprise, Jungwoo wiped his tears on his sleeve. But you were fast to hand him some tissue. He was younger than you, so your older sister instincts kicked in.

“This is unjust, (Y/N).” He murmured across you so Areum won’t pick up his words. Your lips pressed against each other, maintaining a straight face at him. He was right.

With Taeyong, his arms spread out wide for the small girl who willingly walked to him. He loved children, having a nephew back home. He caressed her smooth hair down to her jaw. The first thing he distinguished was her pretty eyes followed by her squishy cheeks, resembling so much of his late friend.

“You’re so pretty, Areum. Did your mom tell you that you mirror so much of your dad?”

“Yes, she does! But I’ve never met him and I don’t when I will, uncle Taeyong.”

A tragedy how the splitting image of his best friend doesn’t see what everyone sees. But again, she’s only 3 and she can only process so much. She doesn’t know the real truth behind her father’s location, except that he was working far, far away. There are days she’d ask if he’d come back soon, yet your only response is not now. This isn’t the right time for her purity about life to stain.

“Well Areum,” Jungwoo gathered his senses again, crouching down to her level. “As his friends, we know that you look just like him! Prettier even.”

“Really? Tell me more about him, uncle Jungwoo!”

It’s about time someone else shared stories about your late lover because yours was short-lived. It’s even more intriguing to listen to what other people have to say about Doyoung that weren’t his parents. Some stories told by Taeyong and Jungwoo were new to you too, giggling along to their ridiculousness when they’re not training or fighting. Loving their presence, you invited them to stay for dinner with your family, which they couldn’t reject.

What started as a tense conversation transformed into a heartwarming experience. These two boys earned a spot in your life, aspiring for longtime friendships with them. The tender way they cherished for Areum like they’re own after meeting for the first time, it’ll fill in bits of her void. In exchange, they insisted to chip in for you and her lives so it wouldn’t be just you and your family. Struggling already with the consequences of the war, it only felt proper to do so.

“Doyoung has always been there for us, now let us return the favor and be there for you and Areum.”

Your protests were deemed useless, so you allowed them to do so. Once you finished law school and take the exams, you could pay them back. It’s phenomenal how Doyoung’s good influence towards others multiplied even after his passing. Maybe if you began to view things this way, you’d recover sooner. Although he’ll always be in your thoughts, it wouldn’t be as sensitive as it is now.

For now, you’re just going to enjoy the bliss Taeyong and Jungwoo brought, retelling old tales of a drunk Doyoung on the dining table.

From behind your garden fence in secret, Doyoung secretly observed as his treasured companions interacted at last with positivity. His only daughter mirroring his adored smile, he lived in that moment vicariously through her.

What a good time to visit today, truly.

#nct #nct au #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 au #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #kim doyoung #kim doyoung x reader #kim doyoung fic #nct doyoung #doyoung x reader #kim doyoung au #kim doyoung scenarios #doyoung fluff #doyoung angst #doyoung smut #doyoung au #doyoung scenarios

[entracteofevil]

Round Table Discussion with the Cover Illustrators

Entr’acte of Evil, page 142-145

--First, everyone please introduce yourselves.

Ichika: I’ve been responsible for the first cover and the illustrations for the series. My name is Ichika.

Suzunosuke: I am Suzunosuke. I normally just draw what I want to. I was able to make the cover for the second book.

You: I am You, and I was charged with the cover for this book. I’m really nervous, but I look forward to being able to do this interview with you.

--When did you all first start making illustrations?

Ichika: Since I could first remember. I don’t recall it all that clearly, but by the time I was in first year I was already drawing.

Suzunosuke: I think it was about middleschool. Apparently when I was a kid my parents were consulted by my teachers on the fact that I couldn’t actually draw pictures.

--You couldn’t draw pictures?

Suzunosuke: Even when I was made to stay behind by myself in kindergarten, the only things I drew were like little pictures of flowers on my drawing paper. It wasn’t that I was sick or anything like that, I was just a normal kid who couldn’t draw.

--I see, that’s very unexpected. What about you, You-san?

You: I don’t clearly remember when I first started drawing as a hobby, but my first picture was when I was three years old, and was a portrait of my caregiver in nursery. Back then I always wanted to use every color of crayon I had, and I guess the fact that I’m still always using rainbow colors even now just goes to show that what you learn in the cradle you carry to the grave.

Suzunosuke: I think that’s cool.

--Incidentally, when did you start making pictures related to VOCALOID?

Ichika: I think around 2007…maybe? I remember the first time I drew Miku was after listening to Yuuyu-P’s “White Season”.

Suzunosuke: I don’t remember how many years ago it was, but I feel like the first thing I drew was Kurousa-P’s “Cantarella”.

You: I listened to VOCALOID the first time in the winter of 2007, so I think it was probably around that time.

--So then, when was the first time you encountered AkunoP’s work?

Ichika: It was right after “Daughter of Evil” was posted on Piapro. I had just finished up making a PV, and when I was looking for new content on Piapro I got drawn in by the title and started listening to it.

Suzunosuke: The “Servant of Evil” was on NicoNico Douga’s rankings, and when I opened up the PV it had a tag saying to watch it after “Daughter of Evil”, so I watched them in order of “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil” for the first time.

You: Like Suzunosuke-san, probably in the autumn of 2008. The “Daughter of Evil” had a lot of buzz when it was first uploaded! I saw it in so many places with Ichika-san’s illustrations~ It feels so strange to see it having taken this form so many years later.

--Suzunosuke-san and You-san, this was the first time you’d seen a song that used Ichika-san’s illustrations, wasn’t it?

Ichika: I’m sorry for being alive…

Suzunosuke: Sorry, haha

You: Hey, hahaha

Ichika: I’m honestly really shaking here, haha

Suzunosuke: Maybe we should reply with “You’re a very wonderful person” ha ha.

-(Laughs) So what was everyone’s thoughts on the work when they saw “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”?

Ichika: I think the imagery in it was really easy to get emotional about. I also thought it was a really interesting concept that although “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil” had a really different feel to them, they still felt like part of the same story.

Suzunosuke: All else aside I thought it was really sad, and I kept getting stuck on the fact that Allen couldn’t be saved. Still, it was because it was such a sad story that I was captivated by it. It also really made me feel the potential of the VOCALOID genre. It’s a derivative work, but also original content.

You: At the time I had thought it was really interesting and unusual to make a work with such dark fantasy elements using VOCALOID. I also really liked how catchy the tune was. It was also really impressive with all the derivative songs and fanart that got uploaded as things went on. I think it’s a work that shouldered a main pillar of the VOCALOID community in its heyday. And it’s really cool that it’s continuing to spread around the world even now.

--What image do you get of its creator, AkunoP?

Suzunosuke: Given he’s got “Akuno” (of evil) in his name, I thought he might be a scary person.

Ichika: Generally the people who do DTM have a kind of science-y image, so there’s that. And when we actually met, I remember he was a lot like that image. Though he was a bit thinner than I had imagined. Maybe if Akuno-san had shown up to our first meeting with his sunglasses look I’d answer that his image was different, haha.

You: Before I met him offline…He made a lot of romantic-type works, so I actually wondered if maybe he was a woman. When we actually met, it was apparently right after he’d changed his look, so I was a little amused to see him wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses.

--Have you all met AkunoP-san wearing sunglasses?

Suzunosuke: I actually just brushed him off because I didn’t know who he was for a second. As a fan the way he is now is probably close to his image as AkunoP, I would think.

Ichika: I also brushed him off.

You: Everybody brushed him off!

--Well that was an unexpected outcome, haha. Next, do you have a favorite AkunoP work?

Ichika: I actually really like “Clockwork Lullaby”. I prefer the quietly compelling melody and lyrics. Aside from that, I remember when I listened to “Daughter of Evil” I was really drawn to it, wondering what other kind of work he’d done, so that left a significant impression.

Suzunosuke: I think that might be “Re_Birthday”. The flow of sin and rebirth is so painfully beautiful, and I always get misty-eyed no matter how many times I listen to it.

You: Like Suzunosuke-san, I like “Re_Birthday”. I really love the music, and as for the story of it I think it’s really great it has that theme of salvation.

--I see. I had thought that Suzunosuke-san might say “Lunacy of Duke Venomania”, so that was surprising.

Suzunosuke: I could also say “Lunacy of Duke Venomania”, but I don’t want people to think I’m someone who likes erotic content, haha. But that’s also another song that I really like.

.

About the Novel Illustrations

.

--How did you feel when you heard about the “Daughter of Evil” becoming a novel?

Ichika: I was simply surprised.

Suzunosuke: I thought it was awesome.

You: I thought it was awesome for Akuno-san. I thought there must have been so many fan’s voices there, and that kind of invisible strength was deeply moving.

--Ichika-san, in the first book you did the cover illustration as well as the ones in the book itself—What was something that was hard about that?

Ichika: I’d have to say highlights.

--Highlights…! Certainly you had to do quite the interaction there… Honestly, was there any point where you were like, “I hope these editors step in dog crap”? haha

Ichika: Nah, ‘cause ever since I’ve become able to put in highlights more seriously, so I’d say it was good practice, haha.

--Suzunosuke-san, you were asked to do the cover for the second book; how was it when they approached you for that?

Suzunosuke: I had thought for sure that they were going to have me just do a pinup on the inside of the book, so then I was kind of like, “Now what?” The others who’ve been involved in it are such amazing illustrators, so I wondered if I’d be good enough for it.

--Was there anything you had trouble with?

Suzunosuke: Drawing the two of them to be just adorable was a little hard.

--I understand you had a bit of revision going on…?

Suzunosuke: Oh no, I saw that as being good training in a lot of ways, so even now it’s a good memory for me.

--You-san, you’ve been asked to do a lot of color illustrations each time, and in this guidebook you were entrusted with the cover illustration. How did you feel after finishing your work?

You: I really like doing the pinups, and I’ll generally paint them as I like, but I dealt with the cover with some different feelings in mind. As a fan I thought that Ichika-san would be given preference for sure. And I’ve refined on my composition a bit looking over past work. I wanted to emulate the flow of things up to now, so like Suzunosuke-san’s work I made it very horizontal.

--Who are some characters that were fun for you to draw in this novel series?

Ichika: All the characters are fun to draw, but if you’re gonna make me choose I’d say Elluka…I had this sense of security while drawing her, like it wasn’t an issue if I made her look a little bit like a villain.

Suzunosuke: I’ve only drawn two characters, so that would be the harmonius Clarith and Michaela. That pair so really cute, so I like them a lot.

--Suzunosuke-san, are there any characters that you would like to draw?

Suzunosuke: I love old man figures, so I’m a bit intrigued by Leonhart. Though I know that’s probably not what you were looking for, haha.

Ichika: (after half a second) It is!

Suzunosuke: Yay, haha

--You-san, you’ve probably drawn all of the main characters at this point; are there any that you’re fond of?

You: Everyone’s fun with how cute they are. I think Riliane-chan is really precious with how her hair is done up. And then there’s the princely Kyle-san—for some reason I’m always grinning when I draw him.

--Please tell us the impressions you were left with as the story has developed.

Ichika: I wasn’t expecting the romantic love between Michaela and Clarith, so that surprised me a bit.

Suzunosuke: I was actually really surprised that the base for Michaela and Gumillia’s appearances were those characters in those other songs.

You: I was also surprised at Michaela and Clarith. I felt the books complemented the content that wasn’t expanded on in the songs, which made them have a lot of interesting points. I think it’s also pretty great that I can now listen to the songs with a fresh perspective.

--Conclusively, how do you think the story will develop in the third book?

Ichika: I think Kyle’s mom is gonna be the final boss.

Suzunosuke: Hmm, I think all of the countries might get wrapped up in the fires of war. All the preliminary announcements have a pretty foreboding feeling to them.

You: All will go according to the will of god (AkunoP).

--Please let us know any final thoughts you have.

Ichika: Thanks for having me here. I don’t know yet how the third book is going to go, but I look forward to being able to go through the novels again with you.

Suzunosuke: I’d be really happy if I could be with you on the sidelines. This interview has been great!

You: I’m really happy to be linked to this series and involved in the work in this way. Thank you very much!

--Thank you very much for joining us everyone!

directory

[almond-lebkuchen]

Sebastian Route Summary Chapter Three

I’m going to pause here for tonight, I got a good quarter of a way in the game, but I can’t type up everything today. I’ll leave that for tomorrow. Sebastian is definitely an odd duck, but he’s lovely. Spoilers down below.

It’s night now, and the moon has moved higher into the sky. The MC is walking along the corridor, her duties finished for the night. As she walks, she remembers the conversation she had earlier that day with Theo and Arthur, and how everyone in the mansion was resurrected for their own purposes and stays here. For example Vincent, who wanted to be able to draw more, or his brother Theo, who wanted to be able to show the world more paintings from artists and showcase his brother’s art, and Mozart, who wanted to create music again. Sebastian on the other hand is a human being, but he’s amazingly passionate about history. As she helped him out in the Mansion, she got a glimpse of his dangerous exuberance for it. 

The scene changes, and one day while the MC was cleaning the garden, an incident happened. “Hmm? Something ran to the other side of the garden.” Suddenly an animal came running towards her. A sheep! Surprised, the MC wonders why there’s a sheep in the Mansion.

The sheep then starts to baaaa, and as it did, something dropped from its mouth. She bends down to pick it and sees that it’s some kind of notebook. When she opened it, it was filled with beautiful Japanese characters. And inside it was many notes and details about all the mansion residents.

“For Lunch, Napoleon will have crepes. Not only the sweet kind, but also some meal type crepes with teriyaki. Get Leonardo to go shopping for alcohol and try to find out where the location of the store that sells the crepes. 

“I’m considering trying to bake seven colour bread, by imitating seven colour rice”

As the MC reads the notes, she thinks about how interesting it is that Napoleon likes crepes a lot, and how well put together the notebook it detailing the behaviors and hobbies for everyone at the mansion. 

All of a sudden, she heard a loud voice and couldn’t help but shout out in surprise. She turns around and sees Sebastian and admonishes him for surprising her. He tells her that he was surprised himself as that was his notebook, as he was wondering what she could be reading about so enthusiastically. Stunned, the MC asks him if that really was his notebook.  Then he sighs and grabs hold of the lamb. He says that he didn’t expect that Rottie would rob him of his diary. When the MC questions his words, Sebastian goes to introduce the lamb. He says that it is his pet, Rottenmeier, or Rottie for short. At the sound of her name, Rottie baas again. Sebastian explains that Rottie must have taken his notebook when he was busy. The MC then apologizes to him for looking through it without permission. She continues on to say that it was enthusiastic of him to take notes about everyone like that for work. As Sebastian receives the notebook back, he denies her words, saying that his observations were rather for a personal hobby of his. 

Curious, she asks him what he means by his observation being a hobby?

Sebastian fesses up then, saying that since she saw it, he should reveal that his real name is Akihiko Sato. An unrivaled maniac who loves history and chasing people who’ve lived in it. He was a former historian who wandered around Europe until he was scouted by Comte and came into the 19th century. He continued to observe and write all the while living and working with the admired great men. Sebastian continues on to say that this job was like his vocation, and an important workplace to him. But he doesn’t want to be disliked by them, so he tries to keep it a secret. The MC thinks about how cool Sebastian is, and that her image of him is now greatly updated. 

Later on, the MC remembers what happened that day with a smile on her face. She thinks about how amazing Sebastian’s passion was, that he loved history enough to slip through time. Sebastian and everyone else had that passion to stay in the mansion for their goals, but the MC reflects on how she doesn’t share that same gaze of passion. Just when she starts to feel lonely about it, she hears a voice behind her. She sees Sebastian, who beckons the MC to come over to him, which she does. Sebastian takes a cryptic once over to his surroundings before lowering his voice to a whisper. He tells the MC that he wants to talk to her alone, just the two of them. 

He leads her to a nearby guest room where Sebastian quickly closes the door behind them. As he does, the MC anxiously begins to wonder what he could want to talk to her about. Was it about the kiss? Or her weird attitude at work? Sebastian then sees how nervous she is and assures her that he’s embarrassed by what he’s about to say as well. Worried, she asks if Sebastian is having trouble himself, thinking back to the kiss and her actions, which he goes on to affirm. Alarmed now, the MC hurried to apologize again for everything when Sebastian interrupts, He says that he has a mission for her. With a serious look, he takes something out of his pocket and gives it to her. As the MC inspects it she sees that it’s Sebastian’s diary and she raises her confusion. Sebastian shakes his head and tells her that no, that it’s the one that she will use. The MC takes a closer look at the book and sees that while exactly the same as Sebastian’s, it looks brand new, and it’s empty. Sebastian then takes the MC by the hand. He tells her that he also is giving her a great men observation diary, and wants her to use it. Surprised, the MC questions why Sebastian would give her this kind of mission. 

Sebastian explains that he loves the Great Men living here and wants to be able to know even more about them, and respect them more. He says that there are unfortunately limits to him studying this all on his own by himself, so he needs an accomplice her cooperation. The MC, flabbergasted, comments on his word choice of accomplice, but Sebastian steadily denies saying it, and that she must have heard wrong.

Then he pleads that if she hears or sees anything, to write it down in her notebook with her fresh perspective, and that this was a great opportunity to learn more about History. Overwhelmed, the MC reluctantly agrees to his proposal. Sebastian smiles, and tells her that with this, they can hold regular briefing sessions, and that it will be their own little secret. 

The MC comments that when he says it like that, it sounds pretty exciting. Sebastian then points out that he got a lock and key for the two notebooks, so if Rottie ever stole it again, the contents would be guarded. 

Learning from failure, this is how the beginning of their observation of the great men begun.

End Scene. 

#Ikemen Vampire #Ikevamp #Ikemen Vampire Sebastian #Ikevamp Sebastian #Sebastian route summary #Ikevamp spoilers

[transsexualhamlet]

*slams fists on table* CATASTROPHE ANIME

yeah this is just my long ranting hypothetical post about “omg what if there was an anime for catastrophe at 16″ because I’m like that @autpunk-godling feel free to add on because we just yell about this for hours on end

I have also now brought it up in the discord server just bc i wanna yell about it

This is the recording of all the shit we came up with screaming about it

-it could only possible like after the manga is finished and translated officially plus resurrection novels probably finished or close to but like,,, we can hope, we can dream, please-

-people coming to it and seeing the trailers and shit would probably see the school and the cherry blossoms and go “oh it’s ouran high school host club but like with swords” and then everyone fucking dies and the fans are like I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS???

-everyone new would know the spoilers for the end by like episode 2 bc manga fans wouldn’t be able to shut up cause someone would just like post a screencap of guren saying “i’m gonna save the world” with a pensive emoji under it some anime only would see it and by the end of the day everyone knows how it ends

-gureshin exposure and seeing it on screen like just imagine how fucking gay it’ll look like I swear this would become the new mikayuu like imagine,,, the beginning when he’s leaning over guren’s desk, the love hotel scene, love hotel 2 electric boogaloo, when they fight over who gets to top omg “become my subordinate” “no u” and every time shinya LOOKS at guren, the part where he comes back to guren’s house and goes “uwu you were looking at my phone”, the motorcycle scene, the *thinks about shinya while taking a bath* the entire part where guren goes demon and shinya saves him and holds him and i,,, and well the entire end

-guren’s va in the last episode would be DEAD lemme tell you the SCREAMING I WANT TO HEAR IT

-Hypothetically this would probably cover 2 seasons, the first season covering books 1-3 and 2nd season covering 4-7, and then like. No one’s gonna want to end it at *guren sticks sword in slot* so like uh resurrection’s gonna need to be a thing unless it gets cancelled which uh fuck i hope not

-more appreciation for characters, THERE WOULD BE PEOPLE ACTUALLY PAYING ATTENTION TO MITO, GOSHI, SHIGURE, AND SAYURI, guren antis would actually just shut up because they’d see him being a fucking softie, and uh well kureto stans would have something to answer for

-the MEME possibility just THINK of the MEMES

-i want to see the trailers,,, i want to see them,,, i want to-

-the levels of horniness compared to vampire reign omg like they’re the same age as yu squad and they like all wanna fuck like how will that translate to anime like

-the. the last episode i. omg it would be so intense I can’t it would be so epic there would be so much blood oh god

-this would cause more exposure for the manga too because 1. the old anime-onlys would come back, 2. everyone already in the manga fandom will be revived for any kind of content, 3. the fans who’ve dropped off will probably watch it, 4. new fans who liked WIT studio shit will be like :eyes emoji:, fans who looked at the trailer and went that sounds kinda gay will watch it, actual shonen fans and people who like high school anime and liked the vampire reign school arc would watch it, like it would have a pretty good base

-like bro there would be actual diversity in ships kjhghjkj like people would actually pay attention to the characters omg please i just want some content like yes of course gureshin but like also the other characters please CATASTROPHE CONTENT OMG I NEED IT C A T A S T R O P H E  C O N T E N T

-you know how the dub for the vampire reign anime is like 80 percent gayer than the sub with the “girlfriend or boyf-” “or a lover” etc uh how can they possibly make some of the shit in ca16 gayer but they WOULD like uh some of the stuff shinya already says in canon is like so fucking gay like the “you’ll never get a husband if you don’t let me clean your wound haha”, the misunderstanding in the love hotel, the “uwu people will think we’re a couple” on the motorcycle, all of that, there’s more, literally every time someone makes a joke about being in love with guren fucking-

-it would actually be good bc new anime tends to be Shit so yeah people would watch it I swear I think it would get even better ratings than vampire reign because it has a comprehensible plot and the ending and shit is already decided, I think different people would like it

-ok but like the problem is there’s a different beginning in the manga and the light novels of ca16. And like, the manga’s beginning would be a really bad thing to go with. In the light novel, the book starts right off with Guren going into first shibuya high school with sayuri and shigure, explaining the situation with the ichinoses and the hiragis. That’s a good beginning, it gives a good idea of what the story’s gonna be like, it doesn’t give away what’s going to happen. Whereas in the manga, they decided to shoot in before that a bullshit chapter that’s straight out of fucking tokyo babylon. I don’t even,,, it was really bad, and it doesn’t even seem to be canon. There’s no indication that’s anything but like crossover fanfic because the gist of that chapter was Guren, Sayuri, and Shigure like,,, exorcising a bitch which is like so not the vibe of this story. It makes no sense?? That’s not even what Guren did in middle school? What???? There’s also a bunch of really offputting shit in there, if you’ve ever seen it. That’s gonna get rid of so many potential fans. It’s a really bad idea. Also at the end it literally gives away the fact that Guren’s gonna end the world which is just. shit. it’s shit. Like everyone’s gonna know anyway just don’t give it away in canon!!! It was a bad idea in the manga and it would be a terrible decision to do in a potential anime.

-what would it even be rated omg like it’s. So much hornier than vampire reign so like I don’t even fucking know like, there is sex,,, with fucking m a h i r u, i don’t like that, and i mean other than that every other word out of someone’s mouth is wanna fuck like that’s fine in a light novel but on screen uh

-!!!!!! THE OP AND ED !!!!!!!!! the SHIT that would be FORESHADOWED in the ENDING i sWEAR TO GOD I JUST WANT TO S E E  I T like even if they just reused scapegoat and xu it would still be fucking amazing LIKE OK. KAGAMI FORESHADOWED CHAPTER 94 WITH THE ORIGINAL ED WHAT THE F U C K KIND OF FORESHADOWING WOULD GO ON WITH CA16

I just really really really want another song to vibe to ok and I want to see the images i want to see them fighting I want to see them in front of cherry blossoms uuuuuuuuuuu please like I want to see Mahiru like posing with two swords or some shit please omg please mahiru don’t turn into a demon you’re so sexy ahaha

like broooo I really just want to see it like anime ops are just so amazing and epic and the eds are all kinda sad and foreshadowy and UH FOR CATASTROPHE THAT’S LIKE A L O T LIKE THE IMAGES THAT PEOPLE WHO KNOW WHAT THEY ARE ARE JUST GONNA SEE AND GO “F U C K” like just imagine the ed having like. like guren’s sword in a slot in a white room or like a flash forward to the world after it’s ended

-we can see on screen, colored: NOYA, SAITO, (ferid with green hair???), I want to see all of them omg also maybe they can decide for sure what aoi’s eye color is

-THE ELEVATOR FIGHT WITH GUREN AND SAITO GHHHGHGHGHGH I JUST WANNA S E E IT

-we get to see them actually fight with magic and not like jumping off of buildings abilities and shit

-Guren going demon omg omg omg

-BABY YU BABY YU BABY YU BABY MIKA BABY MIKA BABY SHINOA BABY SHINOA

-I think the anime wouldn’t want to have it end with Guren sticking the sword in the slot so I think they’re probably pull a vampire reign episode 1 and after the sword thing just like,,, fast forward to a quick ambiguous shot of Guren at 24 standing in a broken world in his demon army uniform uuuh like OW I WANNA SEE IT I WANT TO SEE IT I WANT TO oH MY GOD THE CINEMATOGRAPHY-

-in conclusion *mails kagami 12 dollars* pwease mw kagami

#owari no seraph #ca16 #gureshin #long ass post

[findapennyloseapenny]

James Ironwood is going to turn up again, and he’s going to be working for Salem. Hear me out.

So this is a possibility I toyed with in one of my first posts on this blog, and as I’ve been thinking about it more and more and rewatching the Atlas arc, it’s something that I’m becoming more and more convinced of. Let’s start with the basics. Ironwood was in Atlas when it fell, and that was, shall we say catastrophic. Enormous crash, followed by flooding. Definitely shouldn’t be survivors, right?

Except that that isn’t really how this show, or most shows, work. People survive a lot of intense injury in RWBY. Cinder got fucking flash-frozen and dropped several stories after her Aura broke. RWBY goes out of its way to signpost when someone is dead. It wants that emotional beat to hit hard. It doesn’t want ambiguity. Take Pyrrha, disintegrated before our eyes. Take Penny, first dismembered, then with that heartbreaking framing of her blood falling of Crocea Mors. Take Clover, gorily impaled. Even with Adam, who fell offscreen before his death, was obviously and bloodily stabbed all the way through his chest (twice) and hit a rock very hard on his way down. The most ambiguous they’ve ever gotten was Watts, but they made a point to show that Cinder had taken extra action to make sure he burned alive before Atlas finished falling. The show took time out of a very packed episode to show us his shadow, lit by flames as he screamed.

Notice that they did not take time to give us a similar shot for Ironwood. It’s the contrast between Ironwood and Watts that makes me most certain that he’s alive. They could’ve spared a few seconds to give us something similar for Ironwood, and they didn’t. So I’ll be astonished if he doesn’t make it out alive.

Watts actually contributes another piece of evidence to this theory. Between his death, Emerald’s defection, Hazel’s death and defection, and Cinder betraying Neo, Salem lost a lot of known, well-developed characters from her inner circle in a very short time. The only people she has going into Volume 9 are Mercury, Tyrian, and Cinder, and they aren’t exactly a well-rounded team. Tyrian and Mercury are bruisers, from a plot-perspective. They take orders and carry them out. They don’t make plans, they don’t have resource networks, they aren’t particularly good infiltrators or ambassadors. Cinder’s only slightly better - she makes plans, sure, but she’s impulsive, self-serving, and bad at seeing the bigger picture. She only brings a slightly wider range of resources to the table. This is not a team that provides a varied enough rogue’s gallery for very long, especially if Mercury or Cinder defect as well (which is extremely possible). This only stays her inner circle if the show is about to wind down or Salem is about to get blown out of the water for a bigger bad guy.

So, is the show about to wind down? Realistically, if they want to wrap up their plot threads and themes in a tidy, satisfying fashion, which I’m confident they do, the minimum number of volumes I think they could do that in is four. Volume 9 deals with Wonderland and sets the stage for RWBY in Vacuo, Volume 10 deals with Vacuo, Volume 11 sees a return to Beacon (and possibly a late game switch big bad switch from Salem to someone else, probably the gods), and Volume 12 sees the defeat of the big bad and the resolution of the show. That’s assuming an absolutely breakneck pace from a show that has consistently been content to take its time - relatively speaking at least, given how short each episode is. They spent a whole Volume dealing with the trauma of the Fall of Beacon, advancing the characters and barely touching the overall plot. I don’t think they’re going to speed run this.

All this to say, at minimum, we’re three-quarters of the way through the show, and I think two-thirds to halfway is more realistic. Salem can’t take point in any plot that involves societal conflicts, and I don’t think they can hang three more volumes of those on Mercury, Tyrian, and Cinder. Salem needs to expand her inner circle. Now, most likely, that will include at least one new character from Vacuo. Maybe people who’ve read the CFVY books already have a likely candidate in mind, I don’t know. But one person isn’t going to be enough to fill all the roles now left empty on Salem’s team, especially one person that we don’t already know, who has to be built up for us and fleshed out and sold to us as someone competent and scary and worth giving a damn about.

So why not sidestep some of those problems and dust off the perfectly good dictator they’ve still got lying around?

Let’s go beyond the fact that Ironwood is alive and without an obvious role in the plot while Salem has a job opening. What does Ironwood get out of teaming up with Salem? What does Salem get out of taking him on? What do we, the audience, get out of seeing this on our screens?

Let’s start with the first one. Ironwood has had a very taxing forty-eight hours. He has seen his precious Atlas destroyed and reduced to rubble. He has seen every one he ever counted on betray him (and with good reason, but I doubt he sees it that way). He has gone from being one of, if not the most powerful mortal man in all of Remnant, to having absolutely nothing. Who does he blame for this? Salem? Maybe, but if he puts the sole blame on her, that means he has to keep fighting her, something he has already decided is impossible. He made a desperate, terrible, appalling plan to avoid that outcome, and it failed utterly. He doesn’t believe she can be beaten. He will certainly blame her some, but there is a much more convenient target for the bulk of it - one that is easy to plaster it on, one that thwarted him directly, and one which he believes he can have revenge on.

He is going to fixate on Team RWBY and their allies. If they’d just listened to him, if they’d just fallen in line and done what he said, then Atlas would be safe and the relics would be well out of Salem’s reach. Their opposition led directly to his plan’s failure. He doesn’t even need to bend the truth for that, only ignore the parts that he has already been content to ignore - that his plan was fundamentally flawed from the start, both in its means and its ends, and that if he had instead listened to RWBY, much of this tragedy could have been avoided. But Ironwood isn’t going to blame himself. It is a very, very hard thing for someone as proud and self-assured as Ironwood to do, to look at himself honestly and acknowledge that he fucked up, really badly, and that the consequences of that fuck up will haunt him until he dies. It is a very hard thing for such a proud man to humble himself and try to make whatever amends are within his means, to apologize to those he wronged and strive to help them, even knowing that they may hate him forever no matter what he does, and be justified in doing so.

He will take the easier choice, the same kind of easier choice he has been taking the whole show, and shift his guilt onto someone else. He will blame RWBY. He was more than willing to sacrifice uncounted multitudes of people under his care to protect Atlas, and maybe the world too, for awhile. Now Atlas is gone, and as far as he is concerned, the world is doomed. What does it matter if he helps Salem hasten that along a bit, as long as he can avenge his city?

Salem, for her part, will find an exceptionally canny tactician, a deeply charismatic leader, and a man of nearly unshakeable determination, all wrapped up in a nice, emotionally unstable, easily manipulated package. Maybe he doesn’t have the tech-savvy that Watts did, but he has everything else, and so much more. She could find all sorts of uses for him.

And we, the audience, will get to see it all unfold. We will get to see the fall of James Ironwood from a principled, well-meaning, staunch defender of Remnant, a bit over confident in himself, a bit flawed, a bit narrow in his focus, but unquestionably heroic, to a dictatorial, desperate tyrant, willing to sacrifice anything and anyone on the altar of his own ego, a man who hits rock bottom through his own arrogance and cruelty and, when offered a shovel, starts digging even deeper. You thought the Tin Man lost his heart this volume? You haven’t seen anything yet. By the end of this show, there will be no one more tragically, brutally, painfully hollow then James Ironwood.

I wonder if, near the end, he’ll think about Lionheart. I wonder if he’ll still have enough of the man he used to be left to shed a single, bitter tear at the irony.

#rwby #rwby meta #james ironwood #rwby salem #oh boy this got long #obviously this is a lot of conjecture about a show that routinely blows my expectations out of the water #but this feels very right to me

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 9

pictured: me crawling out of the rubble after yet another set of wisdom tooth extractions

STILL ALIVE, SOMEHOW

anyway, enjoy this update! things have been a bit slow going between this and another project that i haven't started posting yet (along with a brainworm for a different fandom entirely orz), but i'm committed to seeing these stories to the end, don't worry 💙🎶💖

she’s… gone? CBG is gone?

wait hold up, we’re going on a pre-other-job adventure. if you could even call it an adventure.

No, it’s no mistake. Marinette’s not the one standing at the counter this morning. In fact—judging from how much he can see from peering through the window in a totally-not-creepy way—she’s nowhere to be found. Mr. Dupain is there, as faithful to the shop as his apron and his hands are covered in flour. But this time it’s Mrs. Cheng at the register, kissing the top of her husband’s head when he bends it to her and inviting Luka in with a single gesture when she meets his eyes.

Well, now he has to go in.

He tries with every fiber in him to mask his disappointment while he locks up his bike and slips into the bakery-patisserie, and he hangs by the door until she’s finished with a customer and beckons him closer. “Good morning, Luka!” she chirps, and it’s in that moment that he sees all the traces of her daughter in her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Can I get you the usual?”

Luka gives her a mute smile and a nod, and he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it has.” Three weeks? Has it really been three weeks? “I heard you went out of the country? How was it?”

“It was nice,” Mrs. Cheng says with her usual warm smile. She’s already busy with a small pastry box and a pair of metal tongs. “Just what I needed for a while, but only for a while. You always have to come back home, after all.”

He nods, despite the fact that his home could be… literally anywhere. Could go literally anywhere. Maybe it’s for that reason alone that he’s had the distinct feeling that home is made up of people and not places.

Mrs. Cheng slides the box toward him, trades it for his card, but she doesn’t let him go just yet. She disappears into the back, and returns with a thick paper cup cradled in both hands, its contents so piping hot that there’s steam rising from the little hole in the lid. “You look like you could use a good cup of tea,” she says, kind as ever—and then, as he takes out his card once more, “It’s on the house, chou. Your constant patronage is payment enough.”

“Wow, that’s…” Luka’s speechless for a moment. “That’s really kind of you. Thank you.”

She smiles at him, and he didn’t really realize how much he’s missed seeing it until now. Maybe it’s not so bad that she came back. (Of course it’s not so bad; what is he thinking?) “The leaves are fresh,” is all she says. Probably because she doesn’t think it’s something she needs to be thanked for. “Think of it as a souvenir.”

Before Luka lets himself out, he stops by the door and tosses a glance back. “Hey, Mrs. Cheng?”

“What is it, Luka?” She had to pause humming as she wiped down the counter and the tongs, but she doesn’t seem disturbed by it. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her disturbed by… anything, really.

His hands are too full to do anything fidgety with them, so he has to settle for scuffing the floor with his heel. “They took real good care of the shop while you were gone. Don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Mrs. Cheng’s expression goes soft. “That’s good,” is all she says, and it’s like she knows what he’s really trying to say—and honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She’s a mother. She’s Marinette’s mother. Surely there have been plenty of boys, maybe even girls, who’ve spent their fair share of time here, fawning and pining. He wouldn’t be offended if he were just a drop in the bucket.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t considered, until now as he’s hip-checking the door, the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, with the ocean name and the ocean eyes, might already be taken.

Yeah, he has to tie down the pastry box to the back of his bike, and yeah, he has to walk his bike part of the way to the Champ de Mars and ignore the buzz of every notification in his back pocket. But it’s worth taking the extra time to enjoy the tea; he doesn’t know much about all the intricacies of the stuff the way Mrs. Cheng probably does, but it’s fruity and it smells kind of like flowers and it warms his insides, the way he thinks most tea is supposed to. And it perks him right up. He knows he’s going to need that today.

Not to mention there is, admittedly, a part of him that keeps looking around the city as he walks, and then bikes. A part of him that keeps wondering if he might catch Marinette lingering around the city. Living in it the way he does—forgetting, perhaps for a while, that other people exist. It’s the sort of thing that seeps in at the edges of his mind instead of plaguing his every waking moment. It comes to him the same way he might look at some old sheet music and remember his sister, or the way he might find an unattended mess and think, ah, that’s Ma.

At least that makes him feel… a little less like a creep.

When he gets to the park, he has to pick his spot strategically. Getting time off deliveries hardly ever means it’s time to rest; it’s either time to practice, or compose, or—his favorite—busk in parks, or metro stations, or the Trocadero plaza if he’s feeling particularly fancy. It’s not so lucrative that he can quit his other job and focus just on music, even if that would be the ultimate dream. But it gets some extra cash in his pocket, and he’d be either deaf or stupid if he ever tried to claim that his ma never taught him the value of a euro.

He decides on a bench nearby, where there are plenty of people scattered across the grass, picnicking and laughing and reading under the early summer sun. Sometimes he wonders what it might be like to belong to one of those groups, instead of half-being part of them online, but all it takes is the pop of his case and his fingers on the strings and knobs to remind him that everything he has is right here.

Still, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take a moment or two after he’s eaten, with his permit clipped to the belt loop of his pants and his guitar in his lap, to fish his phone out of his pocket and scroll through his notifications one last time. It’s funny; when he started up this account, it was mostly to have a corner of the internet to himself, where he could share a few unbridled thoughts and a few more composed ones, maybe throw in a Kitty Section promotion or a clip of his latest project. Now, with a handful of new followers and likes and reposts in the double digits, he kind of has to wonder if this is his brand. Awkward musician mini-posts about a girl he’s not so scared to talk to but can’t get up the nerve to Talk To, just because it’s “wholesome.” Complete with that emoji that looks kind of like the pair of puppy dog eyes Juleka gives him when she tries to paint his nails a color that isn’t black.

And then he has to wonder, yet again, why so many people would be so invested in something like that. Why they’re so bent on following a saga about his…

Well, it’s not really a crush…

Is it a crush?

Oh, Jesus, no. Of course not. It’s not as though he spends every waking hour what it might be like to hold her hand, touch it beyond the occasional brush when they exchange boxes and cards. What it might be like not to have to apologize for bumping into her, or holding her attention for too long. It’s not as though he’s constantly imagined an evening moment that belongs to just the two of them, his guitar soothing her away from the pendulum swing of utter chaos and mind-numbing boredom that lives behind the register. And it’s not as though he’s felt the phantom bumps of her knees against his, or the quiet but intentional stroke of her fingers over his knuckles, or the solid feeling of their heads pressed together just before she tilts her own.

…Well. Not all the time.

Luka stuffs his phone in his pocket before he can think any more about what this is and what this isn’t and what he feels and what he doesn’t. He plucks out a few scales and takes a deep breath or two—sometimes he needs to do that to remind himself that he’s a performer, a musician, he’s doing his job and he can claim this space as much as he likes. And then he starts to play.

That’s all it takes. A few bars is all it ever takes for anyone to get as closee as they can to knowing him.

Within seconds, his fingers are dancing along the fretboard of his guitar, playing fanned-out tunes, drippy arpeggios pinpricks that demand to be heard among the background echo of notes gone by. Every chord with its own texture. Every song with its own color, following the ebb and flow of choked strings. He barely realizes he’s swaying and tapping his heel to his own craft, mouthing the lyrics to songs everyone here must know, until the first person approaches and drops a bill in his case. The patrons trickle in after that: some pass by and pause to spare him the courtesy of a removed earbud; some look up from their books and start to dig around in their pockets or their bags. One girl even kicks off her shoes and pulls her boyfriend up to dance with her, and maybe that doesn’t put food in his belly, but it’s something he can carry with him like the blessed photo of his sister that he kept in his worn-out wallet.

He doesn’t look up or open his eyes often—only to nod in thanks to those who are kind enough to pay him. The one time he looks up of his own volition, he lands on a boy and two girls, seated on a pink plaid picnic blanket and chatting excitedly. One of the girls, who has dark hair in a braid and her back turned to him, suddenly swells and sits up on her knees, all animated gestures as she gets to her feet and rounds her friends, evidently to demonstrate something.

His body remembers to keep playing, but the rest of him stops.

Marinette.

The other girl clicks for him then—the reddish hair and the glasses from his delivery to the bakery—just in time for her to make eye contact with him and for a sly smile to spread across her face. She looks up toward Marinette, says something he’s grateful he can’t make out, and when Marinette looks his way with a dove’s eyes and a deer’s stance, he only winks at her and goes back to his playing and swaying.

GOD, he screams to himself. WHY DID HE DO THAT?

He doesn’t dare look up again at least until the end of the song, and it’s a miracle that he plays even better than before he noticed her. When he does, Marinette is still watching him—has she been the whole time? Eventually, and out of the corner of her eye she kneels to gather up her friends’ trash, and she tosses them into the bin nearby. Very, very nearby. And then she kneels down again—very, very down— and drops a couple of bills into his case. It takes the rest of his bravery to lift his gaze toward her.

“First you ‘tip’ me,” he says, one hand on the guitar and the other making air quotes. “Now this?”

“Oh, come on,” she shoots back, smoothing out her skirt as she sits beside him, in spite of how her friend ribs the boy and nods their way. “This doesn’t even come close to how you’ve basically helped keep my parents’ business in the black. Besides…” She nods toward his case. “Now you can’t say you didn’t work for it.”

“Trust me.” Luka pats the body of his guitar, biting back a told you so and the urge to wonder why he feels so sure of himself. What witchcraft the guitar is working to make him feel this way, or if it’s the guitar at all, or whether all it does is make him look like a total douchebag. “I’ve been working.”

“So you can play.” Marinette crosses her legs and her arms, which accentuates the new jade pendant resting in the hollow of her throat. Probably a souvenir from Mrs. Cheng, or a gift from family she’s never met. “That’s not the same as being in a band.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still in one. I’ll prove it to you, if you want me to so badly.”

She grins, and it makes every hair stand on end under the heat of the sun. “Oh, yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“Come on—a musician never reveals his secrets.”

“That’s a magician, Luka.”

This time it’s his turn to smile, just as he fights back the flare of adrenaline. “Who says I don’t make magic?”

Yeah. It’s definitely the guitar.

“So,” Marinette says. She gives a passerby an admiring look when they stop to drop a few coins in his case, and Luka can’t tell if she’s doing it to thank his patrons or lure them in. “Do you take requests?”

“What’s the matter?” Luka strums a chord, wiggles the fingers that aren’t pinching his pick. “Don’t like my take on popular songs?”

“It’s not that.” She sits back on the bench like she really intends to stay awhile. Like she doesn’t have two friends who are staring at her so intently, either because they’re waiting for her to come back or because all they’re missing is a bucket of popcorn to split. “I guess you just always gave off the vibe that you had some kind of… angle, you know? Like, you’re the type of guy who hears colors, so people can give you a color and…” She shrugs. “You could play it.”

Luka tilts his head. “I can hear colors.” And moods. And hearts. And I’ve been stuck on yours, exactly how you think I mean it, for days. “I just never thought of it as an angle. Just an inspiration.”

Marinette blinks a couple of times in surprise, the sort that only says she wasn’t expecting his answer and thankfully not the sort that might imply that she knows what he’s thinking. “Oh. Well. Um. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You have something in mind?” He nods toward his case; might as well spare her the awkwardness he knows too well. “You know. So I can work for it.”

She takes a moment to think, seemingly grateful to be relieved of an apology, and she sits up straight only when she meets eyes with her best friend. “Something blue,” she murmurs after a while. “I wouldn’t mind hearing that.”

She says it, and Luka thinks of her without having to look at her. He smiles to himself, adjusting his guitar in his lap and pressing his fingers to the fretboard in the almost-right way. “There’s a saying about that, where my family’s from,” he replies, just loud enough for her to hear, and he begins to play as close to her eyes as he can manage. Pulls her into his world, this place between thoughts where he can get most things just right without having to say anything, where he’s the only person that anything makes sense to—him, and anyone willing to listen.

It feels like Marinette’s willing to listen.

The notes trail off once he reaches the part he hasn’t quite figured out, the sparkle in her eyes he hasn’t , and he’s felt her gaze on him long before he cuts the music and looks her way. “Something like that?” he says. It’s only then that he notices the extra money in his case, and judging from the look on Marinette’s face, she wasn’t the one who put it all there.

But she smiles at him all the same, gets to her feet and dusts off her skirt. “Something like that,” she replies. And then, before she returns to her friends. “I guess this is where I can find you now, huh?”

Like that’s supposed to mean something.

Is it supposed to mean something?

“I mean,” he says. “You could order something again.”

“I mean,” Marinette says back, “I could pick up a couple more shifts at the bakery.”

Luka doesn’t bother with his phone, or any technology, until he gets home—long after he’s settled below deck. It’s only then—because of course it’s right then—that inspiration sparks like a match. Only then that he scrambles for cables and plugs and the laptop he and Juleka used to share until they gifted her a new one for university.

song update. better quality than my phone, even. hit that play button, pals. and thanks for the likes.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #chinhands

[thespaceace124]

Tv shows I watched this year, my favorite character from each, and why I like each character.

Since my past few posts about Fandom/TV shows have been kinda negative/ criticism, to end off the year, I wanted to make a few posts about things that I like in media. So today we’ll be taking a look at all the shows I watched/finished this year and my favorite characters from each.

Space Force: Captain Angela Ali. Its been a hot minute since I watched Space force, but iirc she’s just… done like 99% of the time with all of her superiors, but in the ten episodes we get, we see some fun little character moments from her. Like in the war games episode where she has to grapple with being an amazing book student, but has a hard time applying some of the stuff she learned at the military academy in a “combat” situation and has to sort of learn and take the lead from one of her “underlings” who is better in that sort of situation. Also, the bonding moments she has with Chan, like when they’re on the road trip, and when she asks him for help learning some science stuff so she can be more useful on missions and stuff. (again, its been a while since I’ve watched this one so my memory of it is a little foggy)

Stargate SG-1: Colonel Jack O’Neill. I like the tope he falls into of the very surface level sort of gruff military man, doesn’t like talking about his feelings, makes smart ass remarks, asks people who talk to much to get to the point, he’s a very fun character, and adds a lot of fun lightheartedness to the show and is generally enjoyable to have on screen. Also tends to get the most character development, at least regarding his past and sort of why the way that he is. (I would say Teal’c gets the second most), also the reason I got into stargate, as my dad showed me a compilation of him being a smart ass and I was like “oh ho ho, I gotta see more of this guy”

Doctor Who (specifically seasons 11 and 12): The Doctor. I like this version of the Doctor, I like that she a little more lighthearted chaotic as opposed to the previous Doctor, who I would describe as dark chaotic, (at least in s11) and just very fun to be around and watch on screen. Also, I think that the rest of the fam is a little bit underdeveloped? Like, we got a lot of fun stuff for Ryan and Graham in the premier with them being a part of a family unit and then at the end of the season we got a nice little scene of them bonding and Ryan calling him grandad and then in s12 there’s like none of that??? And with Yaz we get that she’s kinda got the usual female companion backstory (not a big fan of her job, not happy living with her family, wants *More* out of life) and then we learn that she got bullied as a kid, and at one point she tried to run away, but a kindhearted cop and her sister??? Managed to keep her in Sheffield. So, I feel a little bit like the doctor is my favorite as a default just because we already know the doctors story, so we’ve just pasted a new personality onto a familiar character.

Deep Space Nine (started 2019): Major Kira Nerys. Straight up the reason this character is my favorite is because my dad said I remind him of her and that makes me feel nice. Also, Nana Visitor is very pretty. Also I like that she takes 0 shit from anyone, including Sisko, but we also get to see her learn and grow  from “I will always voice my disagreement no matter what” to “There is a time and a place to object” and also a little bit of learning that sometimes you have to work with people who’ve hurt you and sometimes that sucks. Anyway, she’s a grade A badass and I love her.

Voyager (started 2019): Captain Kathryn Janeway. Like my reasons for Kira, I think Janeway is a badass, and that Kate Mulgrew is very pretty. But also, I think Janeway is a badass in a different way than Kira is, simply because their characters are in very different situations. But I think Janeway is portrayed to be handling things extremely well, and doing what needs be done, obviously that wasn’t super looked at as they did want to keep the tone of voyager relatively light, but anyway, I like Janeway because she’s someone to look up to, to want to incorporate traits of into your own behavior.

Picard: Rafaella “Raffi” Musiker. I like Raffi because she is one of the most consistent characters in Picard. See imo Picard suffers from having too much on its plate, and also it drops/ abandons too many characters. With a show that has only 10 episodes, especially in a first season, you can’t do that. So, with Raffi being in the majority of the episodes, with consistent characterization that makes sense, and working as someone who can actually keep Picard in check? That’s the best character in the show. Also, I think of actors not seen in Star Trek before, she’s one of the better ones and that makes her better.

Lower Decks: Ensign Beckett Mariner. I love a chaotic smartass. Also, for as much as I love LD being a relatively slice of life comedy, I love that Mariner got a ton of characterization in the last few episodes, especially exploring her relationship with her mom, and people who knew her at the academy. She’s super fun, I love how she’s almost always dunking on Boimler, but also really cares for him and doesn’t want to see him hurt. Again, she’s just super fun to see on screen, I love that she doesn’t really like authority figures, and is content to figure herself out while being a relatively low-ranking officer. I like Mariner because she is both sure of herself, but not totally sure what she wants to do with her career, which is something that Star Trek has never explored before, and I think its super interesting.

Discovery: Commander Michael Burnham. I think a trend with a lot of the characters on this list is that I personally find them cool and/or pretty, and once again that also applies to Michael here, but also, I like her because Michael as a concept is fascinating. Like the idea of being a child who goes through a trauma and then is immediately whisked away to a place where she can’t actually process it? And then as a result grows up emotionally constipated and only in her 30s, is sort of finally able to shed that and actually learn how to be healthy with her emotions? Absolutely fascinating, I love that. I also love that we can kind of see that her upbringing and the suppression of emotions as a child still effects the choices that she’s made to this day. Its super cool, and I think one of the best parts of discovery.

Ratched: Nurse Mildred Ratched. I don’t have anything really important to say here, I just tend to like the main characters of tv shows because by default they get the most development/ back story or whatever, and honestly this is one of those shows that I enjoyed enough to watch all ten episodes, and then never picked it up again, so. Ehhh

Dexter: Dexter Morgan. I like Dexter Morgan because he’s a man who has always been told he doesn’t have emotions, but as the show goes on you can totally see that he does have emotions, he just doesn’t know how to handle them, and that they don’t present themselves in the same way that “normal” people’s do. Like, I fully believe that Dexter did actually love Rita, Harry jr., Deb, and Hannah. But I also believe he didn’t fully know how to cope with those emotions, because instead of getting his son help Harry Morgan decided to turn his son into a killing machine, which was a Choice.

Hannibal: Will Graham. I liked watching him kinda fall into Hannibal’s co-dependency trap. Character regression baybee. But like, that’s what happens, I’m pretty sure at one point they both admit that they aren’t healthy for each other, but they also cant live w/o each other. Which is not a dynamic I personally had seen delved into in media before I watched this show. I just think he’s neat.

ATLA: Toph Beifong. I like Toph because I think she provides a nice foil to Aang, whilst also not going too far into the opposite direction. She’s decisive, she knows for the most part what she wants from this adventure, and mostly how to go about getting it, while also discovering a new family along the way. I also just like the way that she can and will throw a boulder at you if she thinks you deserve it.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: Sabrina Spellman. Again, sort of falling into the “I tend to like the main character by default folder” It’s also been a hot minute since I watched this show, so I’m just gonna say that I like Sabrina because she is always the one getting her own self into trouble by being Different. And while I’m not saying that it is always good to conform and do what is expected of you, all of the issues in the show are caused by Sabrina (for the most part). Season one is all about shit falling apart if she doesn’t sign the book, season two is her shaking things up at the witch academy and also not wanting to be the princess of hell (understandable, but again, still her fault) and the whole plot of season 3 is the fallout of her imprisoning the devil and then also being too cocky with the guy made of clay. She’s far too cocky, and I think that’s super funny in regards to how it gets her into situations she’s not really prepared for.

The Coroner (BBC): Beth Kennedy. I watched this show with my stepmom, and in this show, Beth tends to be the one who lightens the mood a lot, so she’s my favorite character b/c of that.

#attention bajoran workers #space force #captain ali #stargate sg1 #stargate #colonel o'neill #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #star trek deep space nine #Deep Space 9 #st ds9 #Kira Nyres #major kira #star trek voyager #captain janeway #star trek picard #raffi #star trek lower decks #ensign mariner #beckett mariner #star trek discovery #michael burnham #ratched #nurse ratched #dexter #dexter morgan #hannibal #will graham #atla #avatar: tla

[sinsbymanka]

Fic prompt 74 because I have got to see what you do with it.

I decided this would be my inauguration into @dadrunkwriting so I hope y'all enjoy! (@thatdreadbitch asked for this one too!)

Prompt was: "it's only just a little bit illegal."

Pairing: Cadash/Varric, but mostly centered on platonic friendship Cadash/Cassandra.

Modern AU set in same universe as GwtAT.

Enjoy!

"I'm sorry." Hawke's sharp elbow slammed onto the table and she cupped her pointed chin in her hand, staring incredulously at the Seeker. "You've never committed a crime?" 

From the corner of her eye, Maria examined Cassandra's color rising with a surge of fond amusement. The woman accidentally tipped her abysmal hand in Maria's direction as she answered. "I have not." 

Cassandra discarded one card and retrieved another rather stiffly, but Hawke’s attention had been caught. Maria watched the woman narrow in on the chink in the Seeker’s armor with brutal efficiency. 

"Speeding? Illegally downloading music?" Hawke supplied, her meager attention span finally falling away from the game completely. "Andraste's chafed nipples, Seeker. Everyone has committed a crime." 

"I have never illegally downloaded music and I have always used appropriate signaling devices in an emergency requiring high vehicle speed." Cassandra sat, ramrod straight, and Hawke swung her bewildered gaze to Varric beside her. She moved so quickly, long human arms flailing in shock, she very nearly toppled both their beers. Varric caught them with barely enough time to spare, piercing the human with a chagrined expression Hawke ignored. 

Maria deftly used the distraction to slip the card under Cassandra's discarded one up her sleeve while drawing her own. Four knights it was, she thought smugly. 

"Varric!" Hawke mock whispered, blissfully unaware of Maria’s cheating and scheming. "You found me a unicorn." 

Dorian barely hid his smirk behind his own cards. Bull actually laughed out loud.

"Many people do not commit crimes." Cassandra answered in a mechanical, clipped tone, still blushing under Hawke's wide-eyed scrutiny. 

"Not in this room." Varric muttered under his breath. Since the two of them still weren't exchanging much beyond death glares, Cassandra ignored him. 

"Gotta point, yeah?" Sera mused, tapping her cards impatiently on the table. "How much time in the block you think we all could get between us?" 

The amount of lyrium Maria smuggled all over Thedas alone had to be worth at least twenty five years. To say nothing of her sundry other crimes. Hawke warmed to this new subject immediately, casting her bright blue eyes around the table. "Right! So, we've got three witches who've never seen the inside of a circle, that's a crime. Plus one unregistered spirit… familiar… whatever.” Hawke waved away Cole airily. “Varric here has bribed everyone and their mother in addition to..." 

"Try not to throw me under the bus, Hawke." Varric asked genially. Hawke sighed with an air of weary martyrdom and skipped the rest of Varric’s criminal resume to eye the skinny elf instead. 

"Vandalism, theft, and some assault charges for Sera. Me too, if I'm being honest. Madame de Fer over there has probably had at least three people assasinated…"

"If I did, they'd never prove it darling." Vivienne gingerly folded her cards and shook her head. "I fold." 

"Bull, I'm willing to bet you’ve broken some asshole’s bones. At the very least, you haven't paid for music in twenty years." Hawke guessed. 

“I refuse to answer any potentially incriminating statements.” Bull folded ages ago and seemed content to simply watch their group chatter. He, at least, knew better than to gamble with Maria. Nobody else seemed to have learned, yet.

“Every Grey Warden I know seems to have a penchant for criminal activity of some sort, so we’ll assume Blackwall’s guilty. He’s got the long, sad face for it anyway.” Hawke’s smile, brilliant as always, seemed just a bit more sharp when she pointed it in Blackwall’s direction. Although for the life of her, Maria couldn’t understand what the issue was. 

“I fail to see…” Blackwall grumbled. 

“And you…” Hawke gestured in Maria’s direction with a card and a rather softer smile. Maria raised an eyebrow silently, inviting the critique with no hidden amount of amusement. “Lyrium smuggling. Assault. Illegal weapons. Possession of drugs with intent to distribute… That’s just what’s on your rap sheet, but I bet…” 

“Is this really necessary?” Cassandra prickled defensively, shifting so that her body was angled just a bit towards Maria’s, giving her another sneak peak at the Seeker’s cards. 

“You have at least one library book you never returned.” Hawke finished with a mischievous grin, tossing the card in Maria’s direction. “And I think it was one of Varric’s.” 

It was too outrageous not to laugh at, so Maria allowed Hawke’s irresistible charm and charisma to wash her away as everyone else erupted into laughter as well. Tears of mirth sprung to her eyes and she wiped them quickly, watching Varric’s hands vanish underneath the table in the ensuing chaos. 

She banged her knuckles on the gleaming surface, grinning at Varric’s disgruntled look in her direction. “Varric Tethras put that card back in your pocket or so help me.” 

Varric sighed, exasperated. Hawke frowned and rolled her shoulders apologetically in his direction. “Sorry Varric, I tried.” 

She knew they were trying to gang up on her. With a mumbled curse, Varric threw a card on the discard pile and scowled at the one he picked up. Maria turned her attention to Cassandra.

“Fold.” She ordered, plucking Cass’s cards from her hand. “Before you end up losing your shirt.” 

“But I…” Cassandra protested. 

“No you weren’t.” Maria stated firmly. “Trust me. Chances of you drawing that card are slim to none.” 

Maria would know, after all. She had it in her other sleeve.

“The only way to get better at cards is to commit more crimes.” Hawke pointed out. “Solid fact. You’ve clearly never lived, Seeker.” 

Cassandra’s color rose even higher and Maria wondered if, perhaps, the teasing had gone on long enough. After all, Maria suspected that there was a healthy dose of romanticization in Cassandra’s view of the Champion of Kirkwall. That would, of course, be Varric’s fault. And she didn’t think Hawke truly meant to be a little cruel, but nobody was immune to the tension between their favorite author and Cassandra. Hawke couldn’t be expected to not pick a side. 

“Alright then.” Maria laid her own cards, face down, and stood from her chair. “I’ve got an idea.” 

A brilliant, reckless, and unbearably pleasant one that would derail this entire conversation and make Hawke lay off Cassandra. 

“What kind of idea?” Cassandra asked suspiciously. 

“Crime.” Maria supplied helpfully. “C’mon, up you go.” 

“I cannot…” 

“Does this mean you’re forfeiting, Princess?” Varric asked smoothly with a smug grin. 

Maria could have let him win. A tiny part of her, in fact, kinda wanted to. The rest of her, unfortunately, was far too competitive to listen. Besides, Varric could have tried to reign Hawke in too. He didn’t, and therefore, she showed no mercy. 

She leaned over the table, completely aware of the way her shirt dipped and exposed her cleavage. She pulled the next card from the deck, secretly gloating that she’d indeed counted them right when she shuffled and it was the Angel of Death she revealed. Varric groaned when he saw it and rubbed his chin with his hand gruffly. Maria maintained her steady eye contact and flipped her own cards over in triumph. 

Four knights, which certainly beat the two songs and a serpent she thought Varric had. 

“Damnit Cadash.” Varric swore. “Where are you hiding all these cards?” 

Hawke broke into guffaws and nearly toppled off her chair. Maria spun elegantly and just about hauled Cassandra out of her chair. “Let’s go.” 

“Can I come?” Sera asked pertly, scrambling her own long limbs out of her chair. “Love crime! It’s so good, yeah?” 

“Inquisitor…” Cass pleaded. 

“Course you can.” Maria declared. “Everyone can. Any property damage can go on Varric’s tab, it’ll be a small dent in the money he owes me.” 

She dragged Cassandra down the hotel hallway, cheerfully disregarding the boisterous noise that echoed from their party. The good thing about mass civil disruption and zombies crawling from a lake somewhere had to be the good prices they got on mostly empty hotels. In fact, Maria was fairly certain nobody else but them and the lone staff person, hopefully sleeping somewhere at this time of night, inhabited this hotel halfway to Crestwood. 

She pressed the elevator button and waited, arm linked in Cassandra’s to keep her from fleeing. The Seeker’s expression in the steel doors looked rather grim. “I am only going along with this to keep you out of trouble.” 

“Sure you are.” Maria agreed breezily. 

“The history books will paint me as a zealot led astray by a dwarven madwoman.” Cassandra continued to mumble.

“Could be worse.” Maria pointed out with a sly smile aimed up at Cassandra’s stony features. “You could be the Dwarven madwoman in the tale.” 

Despite herself, Cassandra’s lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. “The Inquisitor was hilarious. That will be what they remember, mark my words.” 

“Ancestors, I hope so.” The doors opened and Maria tugged Cassandra in, the rest of their group piling after until she began to worry they’d far exceeded the maximum weight capacity. She ended up pressed rather tightly between Blackwall and the Seeker in the corner. 

“What floor is this mayhem taking place on?” Hawke asked brightly. 

“First floor, please.” Maria shouted back. The door shut and the elevator lurched threateningly. 

“I do hope nobody has discovered a sudden fear of tiny, enclosed spaces.” Dorian decreed waspishly. “Fasta vass, Bull, can you please remove your armpit from my face?” 

“Only if Sera gets her bony ass out of the way.” 

Solas sighed, wearily, from the opposite corner, although she certainly couldn’t see him. Maria craned forward, brushing Blackwall’s side as she craned to watch the numbers dip. 

They spilled out of the too small box immediately and Maria shoved past everyone with Cassandra still held tight in her grip. She marched forward toward the scent of chlorine, the strong chemical odor pervading this floor. 

She didn’t stop until she got to the glass doors, fogged on the inside, with the neat little plaque spelling out the hotel pool’s hours of operation, which ended promptly at ten pm. Maria reached for the door handle with her other hand and tugged, found it locked just as she thought it would be.

“Well, Cass.” Maria bent double to examine the lock closely. A simple, cheap little mechanism she could have undone in two seconds flat. “Are you ready to do a b and e?” 

“A b and e?” Cass echoed. 

“Breaking and entering.” Maria reached for the lockpicks in her coat, wrapped in the pretty little leather case with the Inquisition’s symbol on it. She could have laughed when she saw them. Only Josephine would think to order such classy accessories for their not-quite-reputable Inquisitor. 

She loved them to death, the same way she loved the chattering laughter around her, the way she loved Cass’s semi-skeptical glare. It felt… it felt like being alive again. For the first time in ages. “You were serious.” Cass stated. “About the criminal portion of the evening.” 

“It’s only just a little bit illegal.” Maria soothed. Really, more of a trespassing than a breaking and entering. She slipped her picks into the locks and rotated them deftly. She grinned up as she felt the tumblers release, swinging the door open and waving Cassandra through it. “Congratulations. You’ve now committed a crime. Or at the very least, you’re an accessory to one.” 

“Has the void frozen over?” Hawke asked from somewhere behind them. “Has anyone checked?” 

“Pft. Can’t check the void, but Solas can tell you how wibbly the veil is.” 

Resigned, Cassandra stepped into the hot, humid air. With a cheer, the rest of the group surged forward. Sera whirled around, taking in the sheer, glimmering liquid glowing in the dim lights above. “Now we get naked, right?” 

Maria wasn’t going to let that challenge go unheeded. She dropped her hands to the bottom of her t-shirt and tugged it up, over her head with one sensuous motion. Sera whooped with joy and began tearing off layers, shoes and her leather jacket flying in all directions. Maria tossed her own shirt onto an abandoned pool chair and looked over her shoulder at the gawking members of her team. 

Her team. Dorian was trying not to laugh, Vivienne simply sighed and meandered to a pool chair of her own, and Solas was hiding his amusement behind his palm. Hawke rushed forward as quickly as Sera did, whipping her own shirt off and tossing it with the same joyful exuberance. Bull nonchalantly began undoing his pants at the same time Maria dropped her fingers to her jeans and met the eyes of the two men staring at her with unreserved heat. 

“Can’t go swimming like that.” She huffed, turning her back on them. She could still feel the smooth, fiery gazes tracing her form. Blackwall and Varric acted like they’d never seen a half naked dwarf before. That could, she supposed, be true for Blackwall but it certainly wasn’t for Varric. 

“Pale. Pretty. Light that dances through the air. Sun rising in the east. Trace her ribs with my knuckles, shoulder with lips, make her…” 

“Maker’s balls.” Blackwall swore. “Cole!” 

Varric simply chuckled, low and breathless as Maria slipped out of her jeans. 

“This is more inappropriate than criminal.” Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest, but her disapproving glare was leveled at the men behind her instead of Maria herself. 

“C’mon Cass. All work and no play makes us all one hundred percent more likely to give up and let the world go to shit.” Maria cajoled. “Tell them to turn around if you don’t want them staring.” 

“You heard her.” Cass snapped waspishly, although that certainly wasn’t what Maria meant at all. They could stare if they wanted, Maria had nothing to hide. Still, Cassandra nodded and ripped her own tank top over her slender, muscled form. Just in time for it to avoid getting wet as both Hawke and Sera raced past, jumping into the pool together and sending splashes of water everywhere. Cassandra sighed as she slunk out of her own trousers and tossed them with Maria’s. 

“Madwoman.” Cassandra repeated gruffly. 

“Zealot.” Maria challenged. Cass laughed, a small huff as they approached the edge of the pool. “On three?” 

“One.” Cassandra started with the same fatalistic determination she brought to slaying demons. 

“Two.” Maria counted, reaching to grasp Cass’s hand in her marked one and looking up with a smile she hoped was encouraging. 

Cassandra’s returning smile was almost fond. “Three.” They said together, leaping from the edge, the water embracing them. Maria surfaced almost immediately, feet scrabbling on the slick bottom. She could just barely keep most of her head out if she stood on her tiptoes. Cass surfaced nearby, sleek as a seal. 

“It’s very warm.” Maria called out, pulling herself to the edge on her folded arms, impishly grinning at the remaining party staring at them. “Come on in.” 

“Well.” Varric smirked, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt while Maria tried not to observe with rapt fascination. “Don’t mind if we do.” 

Cassandra kicked away with a disgusted noise and Maria couldn’t quite hide her grin. Andraste, the two of them would drive her nuts if they kept this up. They were both so damn stubborn, so convinced Maria needed protection from the nefarious designs of the other one. As if they both didn’t have gooey soft hearts underneath it all. 

As if she wasn’t beginning to trust them both more than she trusted almost anyone else. 

Maria played at examining her fingernails with an air of casual disinterest as Varric slipped his own pants off and swaggered to the edge of the pool. He didn’t jump in, like the rest, but leisurely lowered himself down, giving her plenty of time to ogle his rippling muscles, the sturdy broadness of him, the dense hair covering his chest, his arms, his legs. 

Off limits, she reminded herself. He was a friend because that’s what they both needed, what they both wanted. A simple, uncomplicated friendship. Anything else would be a crime, a sin. 

But there wasn’t anything wrong with looking.

Nor, she thought bitterly, was there anything wrong with a bit of crime. 

#maria cadash #modern magic #modern!thedas #modern thedas #girl with the arrow tattoo #varric x inquisitor #cadash x varric #inquisitor x varric #varric romance #varric tethras #cassandra pentaghast #dragon age cassandra #modern Cassandra #inquisitor cadash #dwarf inquisitor #dragon age inquisition #dragon age varric #dragon age #cassandra inquisitor friendship

[theonyxpath]

Because we’re all out this week, there was no Monday Meeting – but our emails have been flying all week as the kickstarter for V5 Cults of the Blood Gods funded in 50 minutes and it has been smashing through Stretch Goals since then!

It has perhaps been helped by a last minute change James and I made to the shipping costs for a bunch of our International backers – I mean I literally got the revised shipping costs from a new KS fulfilment shipper in the EU the morning the KS was going live!

Very glad we could bring those costs down – even if it is still an experiment until we get a few ship-outs actually out from these shippers.

As always, you can back at any time and you’ll get access to consecutive chunks of the manuscript as the KS rolls along – and you can cancel your pledge at any time before the KS is over if you don’t like what you read!

(And this is the case whether you have just stumbled on the Cults Kickstarter, are one of our long-time KS backers, or a friend of one of the creators!)

Also, related to our Kickstarter for V5 Cults of the Blood Gods, Modiphius has opened up the pre-orders for their V5 book, The Fall of London! You can find the info here on their website: https://www.modiphius.net/

You’ll recognize a lot of the creators’ names from our projects, so you know it’s at least worth a look: every pre-order for the hardcover physical book that’s yet to come gets a link to the finished PDF!

Chicago Folio art by Michele Giorgi

Since this is almost the end of the year, and is certainly a time when we can use some happy thoughts to go with the holidays, here are our Onyx Path Monday Meeting crew’s look back on what were some of our highlights from 2019:

Dixie:

It’s been amazing to streamline a few of our processes this year! However, to me the major highlights for me were holding certain books for the first time on which I and my colleagues have worked so hard, such as Trinity, Scion, Dragon-Blooded, and Chicago by Night. I’m glad we’ve been able to deliver so many great Kickstarters and am looking forward to those yet to come! Seeing our books go into stores has been amazing, too. Being able to walk into my FLGS and see a copy of Changeling 2e or Pugmire on the shelf is really rewarding.

Monica:

Community content has been a wonderful way to find new freelancers and those programs are giving fans an opportunity to create new titles for their favorite games. I think we’ve integrated the programs really well and I’ll be curious to see what happens in the coming months.

Ian:

Entirely self-serving of me, but: we ran the Trinity Continuum: Aberrant Kickstarter, which did gratifyingly well. We released the Trinity Continuum core rules and Trinity Continuum: Æon, which have been in development almost as long as Onyx Path has been a company! The feedback we’ve gotten has been really positive and I’m really happy that we finally got these out to the public. Squeaking in before the end of the year are In Media Res and the Æon Æxpansion, and we’re working on a new edition of Adventure! and other exciting projects. It’s been a great year for visible tangible progress.

Mighty Matt:

Teaming up with the DriveThruRPG team to launch the new Phone PDF format with the Pugmire core rulebook. As the RPG community grows it is very cool to have the chance to try new ways of using our games and the Phone PDF format means Pugmire (and now Scion: Origin) are available in a mobile format, which can be great to read on the go, use at conventions, and more.

They Came From Beneath the Sea! art by Brian LeBlanc

Mirthful Mike:

Two pillars of the Storypath System saw release in 2019… Scion and Trinity Continuum. And yes, Scion did have some bumps both before and after release… but we did learn from those and implemented some new procedures since then to make sure those bumps never show up again. Yes, a month long implementation of the Trinity Mindmeld was kinda stressful for me… but way less stressful than Scion‘s release.

Matthew:

My favourite moment of 2019 was conducting the second proof of They Came from Beneath the Sea! It’s been nothing but a joy to review a game I’ve overseen from conception to (near) publication, and I’m confident the people who buy it, run it, and play it will love the writing, the art, and the layout. It really is a testament to the creative excellence of the team who worked on this, and I owe a lot to their ingenuity and humour, and the faith Rich put in me and this game.

Eddy:

One thing I think we did really well: Process. 2018 was a year of onboarding, getting people trained up, and establishing process for our company. This year we saw how well it worked, adjusted where it didn’t work, and generally got things out faster and at higher quality than we did before. Next year is a natural step of refining or looking at better processes.

Lisa:

For me the good is the improvement of our office systems. Going through our in-house developers for contracts and pay schedules helps to keep these working smoothly and to both eliminate or clear up problems as we go. Hopefully, this makes it better for our freelancers to have their paperwork and payments in a timely fashion. 

RichT:

As for me, this last year has been one where we are starting to have things happen we set in motion years ago, like Ian mentioned about the Trinity Continuum, and also we announced Exalted Essence as another project we’ve been thinking about for quite some time.

Having the Trinity Continuum books available is particularly cool because they really illustrate how the Storypath System can be tweaked so that it meshes with the setting. Just wait until both Dystopia Rising: Evolution and They Came From Beneath the Sea! (and a bunch of unannounced projects) also become available and really put Storypath through its paces.

But also, in terms of other things besides projects, we’re working on new ways to print and ship our KS’d books, and how to build on the success we’ve had in getting our books into retail stores. Which might not really click until V5 Chicago By Night gets onto shelves. But that’ll be in our 2020 thoughts!

Memento Mori art by Brian LeBlanc

I’ve been thrilled by how our Terrific Trio of Terror have continued to post a new Onyx Pathcast every freakin’ Friday, and how we’ve ramped up our Twitch channel with fantastic actual plays and commentary pretty much every single day of the week! I really wasn’t sure we’d get so many loyal viewers, so thanks to all of you who’ve checked out our offerings!

Thanks to the always delightful James Bell, our KS Concierge, we were able to run 6 Kickstarter campaigns on our original KS account, and then James ran Mummy 2e and our friends at Handiwork Games ran the Creature Collection KS on our new Onyx Path KS account. Which is another thing we have been needing for years.

And we were able to continually roll out projects all year long that were created via our Kickstarter campaigns – both the main rewards and the Stretch Goal extra projects – which has been a juggling act as the older (ahem, later) rewards caught up and smashed into the newer projects that are getting made a lot more quickly under the updated processes Eddy and Lisa mentioned.

It was a satisfying year in that it felt good to demonstrate with all of our fantastic projects how we can create great and beautiful game books for both our licensed and our own lines. In a lot of ways, it was all of you and your responses – to our projects, to our posts, to our KSs – that truly made this an excellent year for all of us at the Onyx Path House of Ideas!

Thank YOU, for joining us last year in exploring our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

V5 Cults of the Blood Gods funded in 50 minutes last week, and has thundered forward despite the holidays!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast Is our Holiday Special 2: Mario Kart Episode! Say! No! More! Check it out direct on Podbean, or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

Topping the media list this week is Red Moon Roleplaying‘s actual play of Vampire: The Masquerade – Cults of the Blood Gods, to tie in to the currently running Kickstarter. Here’s part one, and do be warned, the content within contains scenes of a horrific nature: https://youtu.be/E_VtuU4y9JI

Additionally, Ekorren (of Roleplaying and Worldbuilding fame) has made a special V5 video, what with Cults of the Blood Gods being on Kickstarter: https://youtu.be/ir1MYLtD1EY

We’ve a festive line-up on Twitch this week, with a holiday special of Trinity Continuum, Dixie’s Holiday Twitch Takeover (which will be a hell of a lot of fun), another holiday special of Hunter: The Vigil, Uncanny Valley‘s regular Hunter game, Mage: The Awakening, and Scarred Lands!

Thank you to our streamers for such fantastic work this year, and even more thanks for those running games this week!

You can watch the games on our Twitch channel and subscribe to us over on twitch.tv/theonyxpath

Plus, we uploaded a barrage of content to our Onyx Path YouTube channel this last week, including videos for Pugmire, Aberrant, Changeling: The Lost, and more!

You can find our YouTube videos over on youtube.com/user/theonyxpath

What’s more, Matthew Dawkins continues his Gentleman’s Guide to Scion over on his YouTube channel, now covering the mechanics of consolation and Momentum! You can find Matthew’s channel at youtube.com/user/clackclickbang

If you’ve not been following the Occultists Anonymous series on Mage: The Awakening, do not despair! They have uploaded new episodes to their channel right here:

Episode 66: The Masters Songbird is called before his mentor, Colossus, to prepare for his initiation into an ancient legacy. Atratus begins to investigate a curiosity that Gabe has found. https://youtu.be/8HaJXY_iLk4

Episode 67: Baby, Take My Hand   Atratus speaks with the dead, determining how best she can help the ghost of Katherine. Gabe steps up to play a supporting role in helping the newly dead. Songbird tries something new… https://youtu.be/h3g3v5ntHn8

The Story Told Podcast continue their fantastic actual play of Exalted Dragon-Blooded right here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/fall-of-jiara-21-shall-we-spare-the-ravages-of-war

Over with Vampire: The Masquerade now, as The Sacrifice from Chicago by Night is run in Spanish over on webvampiro’s channel! https://youtu.be/PXMzZ69pl4Y

Returning to Red Moon Roleplaying, those folks have a whole load of content coming out for us, including: Changeling: The Lost: https://youtu.be/svXWhcGTNmc

and The Sacrifice, for Vampire: The Masquerade: https://youtu.be/b4T23Zy7s-4

Have you checked out the Botch Pit‘s guide to the Winter Court for Changeling: The Lost? If not, here it is: https://youtu.be/A_huXzRyghY

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we will be releasing the final monthly PDF installments for Exalted 3rd‘s Hundred Devils Night Parade and Adversaries of the Righteous on DTRPG!

Conventions!

2020: Midwinter: January 9th – 12th, in Milwaukee, WI. Check out David Fuller’s Athens, Ohio Scion actual play tie-in adventure (soon to be coming to the Storypath Nexus community content site) that will be running at Midwinter. The event url is below: https://tabletop.events/conventions/midwinter-gaming-convention-2020/schedule/402

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

Duke Rollo fiction (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

RUST (Scarred Lands)

Redlines

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Second Draft

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

Manuscript Approval

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Buried Bones: Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Post-Approval Development

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Editing

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Mythical Denizens (Creatures of the World Bestiary) (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Post-Editing Development

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle – Finals coming in.

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Ex3 Lunars – Art is in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers – Sketches in and approved.

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed – Contracted.

Cults of the Blood God (KS)

Mummy 2

City of the Towered Tombs

Let the Streets Run Red – Art notes and contracts finishing going out this week.

CtL Oak Ash and Thorn – Got artnotes.

Scion Mythical Denizens – Need sketches for fulls.

Deviant

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad

Vigil Watch – Getting stuff over to cartographer.

Legendlore (KS)

Technocracy Reloaded (KS) – Got notes out to artists for halfs and splats.

Scion Companion – Reading through art notes.

In Layout

Chicago Folio – Halfway through layout.

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds

Pirates of Pugmire – With Aileen.

Proofing

Dark Eras 2 – At WW for approval and they will be back after the New Year.

Trinity Continuum Aeon Jumpstart

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Backer PDF out to backers soon.

VtR Spilled Blood

At Press

V5: Chicago – Shipping to the KS fulfillment shippers. PoD proofs ordered.

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition) – Being printed.

Geist 2e Screen – Being printed.

DR:E – Being printed.

DRE Screen – Being printed.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties – PoD proof on the way.

Trinity RMCs

Tales of Good Dogs – PoD proof ordered.

Memento Mori – Backer PDF out to backers, gathering errata.

M20 Book of the Fallen – PoD proof ordered.

Trinity Continuum Storypath Nexus Community Content – Getting it set up.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Happy Holidays to One and All!

#Onyx Path Publishing

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 4

Ok, but actually, just..............this.  Just..............get in on this

Ao3

Hiccup and Heather found the Johann connection while she was helping him research his book.  It started, like most of his best ideas, as a joke while he was sifting through Sergeant Johanssen’s notes on the Grimborn case.  Johann was by all metrics, insufferable and attention-seeking, and as hard as it is to define the character of people who’ve been dead over a hundred years, the sheer number of mostly useless anecdotes he made officers sit through speaks for itself.  It was late in his Dad’s office when Hiccup flopped back and griped that if Johann was sadistic enough to make the Sergeant sit through one more tale about morality and cattle, maybe he was sadistic enough to murder and mutilate a series of prostitutes.  

Heather laughed, but something about it stuck with both of them because they kept looking into it anyway, as silly as it was, pulling the string to see what was there.  There are no shortage of primary sources citing Johann using the murders to sell more bibles, aiming to cleanse the streets of moral filth by educating them about the might of the lord.  

As a theory, it holds out further than most.  In fact, there’s nothing to disprove it.  Johann was in Berk during all of the Grimborn murders.  A couple of the Grimborn letters even have phrases in common with notes taken on Johann’s witness accounts.  It’s entirely plausible that a bible salesman in the late eighteen eighties killed a string of loose women in a violent campaign to impose morality on Downtown Berk, but there’s absolutely no way to prove it.  

That’s where Hiccup and Heather started fighting about it, she couldn’t take the open end.  She found random slayings in downtown Outcast Island, no mutilation, not even all prostitutes or obviously morally destitute people, and tried to start pinning them on Johann based on the fact he wasn’t noted to be in Berk that month.  She was ready to pull the trigger on something definitive and she started pushing it in tours, adding in leading pauses in front of the church, where Reverend Svenson encouraged Johann to lower prices as a form of aid, rather than expanding efforts to feed the poor.  

Just because there’s nothing wrong with the Johann theory doesn’t mean there’s anything right. Knowing things too well gets in the way of learning more about them, and Hiccup is in this to learn, not know.  

At least, that’s a very polite and summarized version of what he yelled at Heather and quit, calling her tour a stolen heap of sensationalist garbage that warps the facts for her own vanity.  

It’s ironic now that he’s approaching her out of his own vanity.  After a night of bugging Snotlout about how Astrid possibly could have known about Johann and getting nothing more than grumbling, it occurred to him that maybe she took Heather’s tour to have something new to shout down at him.  And well, since she already made it clear how she feels about him looking in her apartment, asking about her whereabouts in reference to Heather’s tour seems like a good way to press that harassment charge.  

He gets to the Ripped Tavern a bit early a couple days after Astrid’s Johann revelation and looks for Heather.  She’s at the bar, talking to her brother, and Dagur steps away when he sees Hiccup approaching, presumably warning Heather, because she turns and raises an eyebrow.

“Can I do something for you, Hiccup?”  She cocks her head, “I thought I was too sensationalized for a rational person like you to need anything from me.”

“I just wanted to ask if you’re still talking about Johann.”  He adjusts his bag on his shoulder, fidgeting with his laser pointer in his pocket.  

“Why wouldn’t I?”  She sets her jaw, “since we discovered the idea together—”

“Has anyone been particularly curious about it lately?”  He cuts her off, uninterested in rehashing the fight.  As long as she doesn’t publish anything without his notes, he’s content to trim the sides of Berserker tours’ profits as long as she holds out.

“Why?  Did you tell someone who wanted to finish figuring it out?” She rolls her eyes and Hiccup sighs.

“She’d be about our age, blonde, moved into Elizabeth Smith’s apartment and umm, well, she’s not a fan of my tour route—”

“No blonde women have asked me about Johann while complaining about your trespassing habits,” Heather shakes her head, “I swear, if Snotlout wasn’t looking out for you—”

“Well, he is.”  He doesn’t need this lecture from Heather, of all people.  Back before she took herself so seriously, she’s the one who dropped through the boarded-up window at Number 31, Harbor Road to examine the third site before it got torn down to make room for condos.  “And I was just wondering if anyone asked, but it sounds like no, so…thanks, have a sensational tour.”  His fake bitterness doesn’t do much to her and he wishes he hadn’t said anything at all when she frowns, concerned.  Hopeful. “Don’t even—”

“What if someone else figured it out?  I’m not the one being too petty to publish anything, I still have all my notes.”  

“Yeah and mine, how do they fit into the version of reality you tour?”  He doesn’t expect an answer to that and he doesn’t get one.  Letting Heather keep the notes is letting her have the last word without having a verbal WWE match in Victorian Garb, and his hat has been through enough lately already.  

Heather’s tour leaves on time and Hiccup’s slips out the side door fifteen minutes after.  It’s a foggy night and the girl on the spot where Mary Johnson was found squeaks and jumps into her boyfriend’s arms when she realizes.  He’s a little ahead of schedule when he approaches the first site, talking a little too fast and trying not to hope that Astrid will have something to say today.  Maybe something that reveals her methods or reasons.

Maybe she’ll lean out the window again and argue with him, shivering in her pajamas.  He shouldn’t have noticed, and he definitely shouldn’t have remembered, especially given he had to spend the rest of that tour fending off someone asking after her theories.  That should have been annoying enough for him to wish she’d stayed inside, but well, he didn’t.  

It’s worse that she’s pretty in a way that makes looking directly at her difficult.  Funnier for Snotlout, but worse for him.  

The lights are out in her apartment though, like she’d rather find somewhere else to be than argue with him, and he steps to the side of the sandstone wall, rubbing his hand over it and remembering the first time he came here.  It was the first place he stood that he knew that at some point, Viggo Grimborn stood in the exact same spot.  

“Before we get a little closer to the site of the first Grimborn murder,” he pauses when he looks at the group and sees Astrid at the back of it, arms crossed and keys dangling from her hand, like she caught him on her way home.  “Where we won’t enter or peek in at all, because that would be creepy.”  He gives her a thumbs up and she shrugs.  

“You’re talking about the ‘All Safe’ message, right?”  

“Well, I was going to,” he pats the wall, focusing back on the group and remembering where he was, “right, this wall, on the morning that Elizabeth Smith’s body was found, there was a message on it, presumably left by the murderer.  The officer on his morning patrol assumed it was meant for him from the officer on watch the night before, but when questioned, the night officer didn’t know anything about it.”  

“And because there were no pictures taken of it, because of a rainstorm later that afternoon, the main source for the message has always been the notes from the officer who was called by a witness to discover Elizabeth Smith’s body.”  Astrid excuses herself unnecessarily because the group is already splitting to look back at her, confused but used to being talked at by this point in the tour.  She could thank him for the warm up, maybe, but he doesn’t think he’ll be that lucky. “So, the message, ‘All Safe’ has always been understood to be a statement, as in, behind this wall, everything is safe.”  She steps up next to Hiccup, in front of the wall, fiddling with her keys like she’s nervous even as she gestures at the bricks.  

“Oh, are you going to give my tour?”  He doesn’t mean for the sarcasm to shut her down, necessarily, but he doesn’t expect her to shove it off, standing up straighter and looking between him and the tour group.  

“I was going to fix it, if that’s ok with you.”  

“Fix it?”  

“The ‘All Safe’ message was not officially photographed as part of the crime scene on the morning that Elizabeth Smith was discovered murdered,” she reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a piece of paper that unfolds to an eight and a half by eleven, slightly smeared, freshly printed scan of the Berk Enquirer. Judging by the font, it’s copied from a paper issued in the late eighteen hundreds, but Hiccup doesn’t recognize it.  He tends to stay away from the Enquirer, because he got done with stories about Viggo Grimborn running away with the Loch Ness monster.  “But, a back-page story broke in the Enquirer on the same day as the investigation began, and the ‘All Safe’ message is clear in the background.”

“What?”  Hiccup stops short, reaching reflexively for the paper, but she holds it over her head away from him, eyes flicking between his and his hat.  

“Well, if you didn’t know about this, I guess I am going to have to give the tour.”  She offers him the picture and when he takes it, snatches his hat off of his head and puts it on herself.  “Which means I need the stupid tour outfit.”  

“Hey!”  Hiccup reaches for his hat back but looks at the picture at the same time, his indignance and his hand pausing in unison when he angles the grainy image under the street lamp and clearly sees the chalk text of ‘All Safe’ written on the wall where they’re standing.  “Oh my God.”  

“As I was saying, when you actually see the famous ‘All Safe’ message, it’s obvious that it’s something else entirely.”  She nods decisively, the too big top hat tilting forward over her forehead, “it doesn’t say ‘All’, it says Al, I. It’s a signature.”  

“How did you find this?” He traces it with a fingertip.  

“Aren’t you going to pass it around to the group?”  She adjusts his hat, and he swallows hard, nodding a little too quickly and exhaling a suddenly obvious puff of steam into the cold air.  

“Sure, yeah.”  

“Anyway, as I was saying, presumably it’s a signature apparently announcing that one Al, last name starting with I, was safe at the wall the morning of November eleventh, eighteen eighty-three.  And the assumption has always been that it was connected with the Grimborn murders, because Elizabeth Smith was automatically considered the first Grimborn victim.”  She starts pacing a couple of steps back and forth, hands clasped behind her back, and she’s mocking him, sure, but she’s teasing him too.  

And she brought him new Grimborn evidence and it makes him wonder if she figured out about Johann herself, and that thought makes it kind of hard to breathe.

“But, I’d like to present an alternate hypothesis,” she turns to Hiccup, in particular, blue eyes on fire and he feels like he can’t move.  Not his foot, not his expression, which is somewhere between rejected, stunned, and thrilled.  “The same night that Elizabeth Smith was killed, there was a robbery in the downstairs of 324 Harbor Road.  It’s glossed over, because of the murder, but all signs point to it being a two-man job. One lookout, one person casing the basement apartment belonging to Elizabeth Smith’s brother-in-law, who she could have easily been visiting.  A week later, one Alfred Ireland was caught with that brother-in-law’s monogrammed knife and arrested for breaking and entering.”  

“What are you saying?” Hiccup passes the picture to the nearly forgotten tour group and the first girl looks at it with only casual interest.  

“I’m saying that a man, whose name could easily be abbreviated to ‘All’ was caught after stealing a knife the very night that Elizabeth Smith was stabbed, in the upstairs of the house where her brother-in-law lived.  I’m proposing that she’s not a Grimborn victim at all, but a casualty of a robbery that wasn’t meant to be anything more.”  Astrid reaches up for his hat, taking it deftly off of her head and setting it back on his.  Her thumb grazes his ear and he swallows hard.  “So, my apartment was just unfortunate enough to be the location of some casual, run of the mill violence, and does not belong on a Grimborn tour.” She exhales and nods, obviously pleased with herself as points at the circulating picture.  “You can keep that.”  

“Thanks,” Hiccup’s voice cracks and he clears his throat, “thank you, umm, but—”

“Don’t you have an actual tour to start?”  She waves him off as she walks to the front door of the building and lets herself in, “since this isn’t a location on it, I mean.”  

“I’m confused,” a guy in the tour group cuts across Hiccup’s thoughts, “is this a location of a Grimborn murder or not.”  

“I don’t—Ok, I don’t know why you guys chose my tour.”  Hiccup scratches his face, feeling flushed and off kilter again, brain flitting between Astrid and Johann and evidence he’s never imagined actually seeing.  “Or I do, it’s because it’s cheaper, but I like to pretend it’s because it’s less sensationalized and less…like I’m trying to spoon-feed you my own opinion of who Viggo Grimborn was or might have been.”

“It’s also longer,” a woman offers helpfully, “longer and cheaper.”  

“Great.  Thanks,” he laughs, “longer and cheaper, I’ll add that to the website.”  He looks up at Astrid’s apartment, the light turning on behind closed blinds, her shadow moving in front of it like she’s pacing.  “I’ve been studying Viggo Grimborn for about five years, I’ve read police notes and fictionalized accounts and theories that the murder was committed by anyone from the crown prince of a now defunct Scandanavian monarchy to a gang of rogue Free Masons.  Most sources point to one person, most likely a man, committing at least four murders, starting in that apartment with Elizabeth Smith in November eighteen eighty-three.”  He resists the urge to snatch the picture back and stare at it, to run home and compare it to his scans of letters and detectives’ writing.  

“But you don’t know?” Someone else asks and Hiccup shrugs.

“I don’t, and no one ever will.  There’s nothing in my knowledge saying what she just said isn’t correct, but there’s no DNA, there’s very little evidence left.  Sure, the case was foundational to modern forensics, but like all foundational things, the police work was flawed and riddled with mistakes.”  He gestures down the road, “let’s go to the second site, maybe the Grimborn fairy will come inform me that it was actually committed by…I don’t know, an escaped circus dragon.”  

Hiccup is a little surprised that anyone follows him, but then again, he is giving them a real bang for their ten bucks.  He manages to find his rhythm again at the second site, showing the gruesome pictures people love to cringe at, and walking too fast to illustrate the complicated timeline of the proposed double event.  But he’s glad when it starts raining, a veritable deluge cutting off the last ten minutes of the tour and sogging the brim of his hat by the time he gets home.  Usually, he hates cancelling, but tonight he’s fumbling his phone out of his pocket to update weather concerns on his site before he’s even up the stairs to his apartment.  

“I thought I smelled wet goat,” Snotlout catches him in the entry way, shrugging into his uniform jacket and zipping it up.  

“Good to see you too.”

“You know, because your coat is made of old goat fur or whatever.”  

“Wool,” Hiccup takes off the offending coat, hoping that Snotlout doesn’t notice him sniffing it. It doesn’t smell great, he could dry clean more often, but Astrid would have assumed that’s just the smell of murder sites, right?  “You’re looking for wool.”  

“Whatever,” Snotlout pats his holster and checks how secure his badge is, “are you in for the night?”

“Probably,” Hiccup shrugs, “Astrid actually umm…delivered some new evidence to me, I’ve got a lot to dig into.”  

“She seemed so normal, I can’t believe she’s shouting weird shit out the window at you.”  

“Grimborn-ology is cool,” Hiccup dodges when Snotlout tries to put him into a headlock, laughing and shuffling backwards towards his dad’s old office, “I always told you.”  

“Yeah, but I never thought it would start attracting hot girls,” he says goodnight and leaves and Hiccup lays the photo Astrid gave him out on his desk, next to his most recent, half full notebook.  

The fact is he’s not good with data he didn’t find himself, he always wants to see the paper it came from or the notes themselves.  The obsessive double checking of everything Heather found drove her crazy, but when he was having to back track from theories to the facts themselves, it was even more necessary.  He drums his fingers on the desk for a minute and his eyes dart to an old book on the shelf, the only one he has duplicates of.  

He still doesn’t know how Astrid found out about Johann.  Or the chalk message.  

She hasn’t come through on the harassment threat yet, and now she’s researching.  And Snotlout isn’t here to tell him that going to see her is a horrible idea, and maybe it’s not, they have a shared interest.  

He grabs a copy of the book, second edition, the one he found first, on the way out of the office and changes into an actual raincoat before heading out, hood pulled low over his forehead against the rain.  It’s a Saturday night, chances are she won’t even be home.  Maybe he could leave the book with a  note in it.  His number maybe, that would be a better way of communicating than her occasionally taking over his tour or shouting out windows.  That’s a good way to phrase it, not too presumptive, just as a way of sharing evidence.  

He’s so busy thinking through what he’s going to say and the rain is loud enough on his hood that he almost runs into two people on the sidewalk, one in an official looking black uniform that he’s really learning to hate and the other huddled under an umbrella with a heavy looking backpack.  

“It’s past curfew,” the man in the uniform says, blocking an alley that the woman with the umbrella is apparently trying to walk through, “the courtyard is closed to everyone but residents.”  

“I’m not trying to go through the courtyard, I’m just cutting through to the shelter.”  The woman shivers, “please, it closes in ten minutes.”  

“The courtyard—”

“Hi, what seems to be the problem here?”  Hiccup cuts in, doing his best Snotlout’s-cop-voice impression and standing up straight.  

“Neighborhood Watch Force concern,” the man in the uniform tries to brush him off, showing a pseudo-official badge that Hiccup knows to mean nothing.  Snotlout complains about these guys enough, the private security employed by the condo developers to keep the streets a certain brand of clean are really starting to think they’re cops.  

“I live in the neighborhood.”  Hiccup points over his shoulder, “one of the brownstones back there, what’s the neighborhood concern?”  

“The other side of this building is visible from The Docks,” he uses the pretentious name of the ugly condos he apparently works for, “I’ve been instructed to keep the streets empty past curfew for the safety of the neighborhood.”  

“Well, I feel safe,” Hiccup turns to the woman, who’s scared and probably homeless, “I’ll walk her to the shelter, I know the guy who runs it, I can get him to open the door even if we go the long way.”  

“Good, you’ll have to,” the uniform brings gravitas that doesn’t hold water and if Hiccup weren’t worried about scaring the woman further, he’d point it out.  

The woman’s name is Jennifer and it sounds like she’s trying to navigate a difficult divorce, but Hiccup doesn’t pry.  He delivers her to the back door of the shelter, texting Gobber to open up.  His usual lecture about being late ends abruptly when Hiccup mentions his conversation with the NWF.  

“No one will tell me what those pushy bastards are supposed to be allowed to do,” he shakes his head.

“They’ve been driving Snotlout crazy too,” Hiccup shrugs, “I just thought you’d want to know they’re blocking people crossing town, you might want to loosen up when you close the doors.”  

“Right, like I’m not already up against their curfew laws,” Gobber rolls his eyes, “thanks lad, great advice.  Oh, and by the way, speaking of driving people crazy, are you still harassing my tenants?”  

“You say harassing, I say stimulating their curiosity,” Hiccup grins, “it seems I have a new source of Grimborn info.  I’m heading over to talk to Astrid now.”  

“She invited you?”  

“She stimulated my curiosity,” he winces, stepping backwards out of the range where Gobber could cuff his ear with a cold, metal hook.  

“I’m sure she did,” Gobber shakes his head, “you know, maybe I could get that NWF to keep my tenants safe too.  Keep the riff-raff out of my courtyard.”  

“Hey, that’s what I’m for, you want me out of a job?”  

“Maybe then you’d be into a real one,” Gobber grumbles as he goes back inside and Hiccup yanks his hood back up, heading towards Astrid’s apartment the back way to avoid any more run ins.  He cuts across the street at the second murder site, patting the book in his inner pocket to make sure it’s still dry and ringing the visitor bell on the front door of Astrid’s building to get temporary access.  

It gives five minutes for an interior door to open, and if none do, Gobber is alerted and tonight, would know to call Snotlout, so keeping this under five minutes if necessary is probably for the best.  He really just wants to drop off the book and ask Astrid a few questions, if she seems receptive.  If not, there has to be another way to track down her sources, there are only so many collections with hundred year plus old Berk Enquirers.  

He knocks on the door and takes a step back so that she can see him clearly through the peephole, checking his watch and vowing to leave in three minutes, no matter what.  She opens the door almost immediately, wearing sweatpants with her hair braided over her shoulder and the suspicious glare he’s starting to think of as typical on her face.  

“What do you want?”  

“Hi,” he brushes beaded up water off of the front of his coat before unzipping it to get out the book.

“Hi, what are you doing here?”  She blocks the doorway with a confidence that shows she’s not really worried about him fighting his way through, and looking at her, that’s probably fair.  “You don’t have a troupe of people who want to see my living room with you, right?”  

“No, I cancelled my last two tours,” he shakes his head, wet hair dripping onto the floor, “weather.”

“But you couldn’t skip your pilgrimage?”  She steps back, gesturing at her mostly empty living room.  

Hiccup can’t help but impose the tenant house walls over it, the pre-remodel door about six feet behind her, eternally immortalized in those first crime scene photos.  There were three apartments on this floor then instead of two, and the kitchen plumbing had to go through an external add on that made the window on the far wall wider.  

“I brought you a book,” he holds it out to her and she stares at it, suspect.  

“Viggo Grimborn Solved: The Admiral Haddock Connection.”  She reads the title and her hand twitches towards it, curious even as her face betrays nothing.  

“You asked a couple weeks ago what my theory was.  I told you I liked the mystery, and that’s true, but this is my favorite theory.” He waits a beat and almost pulls his hand back, but she takes the book and starts flipping through it, leaning her shoulder on the door frame.  

“Admiral Hiccup Haddock?” She raises an eyebrow, “so that’s not your real name?  It’s an alias or something?”  

“No, it’s my real name, I’m named after him.  He’s my great-great-great-great grand uncle or something, I’m not exactly sure what you call your great-great-great-great-grandfather’s brother, I probably miscounted greats—”

“Did he do it?”  She frowns, looking at the publishing information. Second edition, nineteen forty-five underlined.  

“Oh God no,” he laughs, “his dad had been the crown prince before the republic and then raised a son who had an esteemed navy career and retired to police work, but this guy, A. M. Mildew was absolutely sure that he spent the summer he was twenty-four murdering prostitutes in Downtown Berk.  Absolutely none of it makes sense, there’s a whole passage hinting at a victory song at The Academy actually referring to this complicated web of forbidden, gay, masonic relationships.”  

She raises an eyebrow and flips through, skimming his notes in the margins, “so it’s bullshit.”  

“An utter, steaming pile of it.”  He nods, “my favorite theory, it has my name all over it.”  

“Funny,” she snorts, a dry little laugh that reaches her eyes more than the rest of her expression. “Why are you telling me this?”  

“You showed me a picture I’ve been wanting to see for about five years, a picture I didn’t think existed.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, his jeans damp almost through from the rainy walk over.  “And Johann was kind of my pet theory, for a while, I didn’t tell anyone but my old partner.  At first, I thought you must have talked to her, but she said no.  And well, it seems like you’ve been doing your own research, I was guessing—hoping, maybe—that you were curious.”  

“I work part time at the archives at the university,” she sets the book inside on a shelf or table he can’t see, and it feels like a win, if not a definitive victory.  “If it was all about the mystery, I thought maybe if I solved it, I could diminish some of the allure.”  

“But then I come here and tell you that my favorite theory is the absolute nonsense one that I happen to be named after…”

“Any chance we could compromise on you buying me soundproof curtains?”  She smiles then, not quite friendly, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes as she takes half a step forward, almost into the hallway.  

“Let me give you a private tour,” he blurts, gesturing at her living room and down the stairs beside him in a combination that’s probably more jazz hands than anything else.  “The real tour, the three in the morning tour, with the good stuff I leave out most of the time.”  

Her brows knit together as she stands up straight, arms crossed and instantly closed off again, “no, I don’t think so.”  

“Oh,” he flushes, “I thought you were maybe umm, warming up to me a little there, guess I misread that. I’ll go—”

“No, as in ‘no, I’m not going on a serial killer memorabilia tour at three in the morning with a guy I don’t know’.  That sounds like a really good way to get murdered.”  

“When you put it that way, that makes sense,” he looks at his shoes for a second, “you have a gift for framing things.”  Which is the lamest compliment that anyone has ever given anyone and he winces.  

“You keep needing me to remind you of really obvious things.”  She looks like she might be about to smile again, and Hiccup can’t help but push his luck, tapping at his watch.  

“Let me try, you know how time is circular?”  

She frowns, “I’d say time is linear, last time I checked.”  

“Ok, sure, but our understanding of a repeating twenty-four-hour day is circular.”  He waits for her to nod, one shoulder shrugging slightly, “so if we follow that theory, at some point, really late becomes early.  So, while staying up to meet someone to go on a Grimborn tour with some guy you barely know at three in the morning might be creepy, starting your day outlandishly early by meeting a guy who gave you a book on his family’s fake sordid history for a Grimborn tour might be totally fine.”  

“Oh, so mornings I have to be at work at four-thirty, you’re saying it’s normal to add a Grimborn murder tour detour to my morning commute?”  

“Four-thirty?  The private tour is at least two hours.”  He assures her, “and by that point it’s getting light out, which makes it even harder for it to be creepy.”  He can see her thinking about it, biting her lip and looking over her shoulder at the book.  “And if worse comes to worst and I default to my obviously genetic tendencies towards murder, I bet you can totally take me.”  He flexes, “noodle arms.”  

“I’ll…” she sighs, “I’ll let you know if I ever have a morning that early.  Give me your number?”  

“Yeah, sure, that’s—here,” he hands her his phone, “put yours in, I’ll text you.”  

“One condition,” she passes the phone back and forth between her hands, “you aren’t going to start a daily Grimborn facts text service, are you?”  

“Not until you ask me to,” he nods, “which you will, after my private tour.”  

“Sure.”  She hands his phone back and stares at him another second, taking a slow step backwards into her apartment.  “So, I’ll let you know.”  

“Right.”  He nods, rezipping his jacket and steeling himself to go back into the rain, even though he doesn’t think keeping warm will be a problem this time.  “Looking forward to it.”  

#modern au #hiccstrid #serial killer tour guide au #httyd fic #hiccstrid fic #ripped

[taz-writes]

Chapter 1 Version 2, Electric Boogaloo

hiiiiiii, guess who got stuck with book 4 after all and went back to obsess over perfecting book 1? ME. I’ve shifted goals from “finish drafting the series” to “finish a beta-worthy version of book 1″ and I think that’s honestly more achievable right now. 

for those who’ve been following my WIP a while, this is very similar to the chapter 1 that I shared back in August, but I’ve changed a few elements of the continuity and evened out the prose. (Here’s the old version if you’re curious.) I still love Sayara with all of my heart. 

also I misplaced my tag list AGAIN, I’m starting to think it might be more effort than it’s worth to keep up with it :( I am very bad at this. 

The usual disclaimer: this is still an early draft, there are probably issues with it! It’s more polished than the last version, but please forgive any weird glitches :)

-

My favorite part of the Tsi palace was always the library—it was an endless treasure trove of ancient knowledge and secrets, what’s not to love? When I was little, I’d spend hours in there, roaming through towering stacks of books and skipping between the columns of rainbow light that crept in through the stained-glass windows. No matter how chaotic the rest of the building was, being the center of the capitol of one of the largest tribes in Feilan and all, the library was always beautifully serene.

The serenity evaporated when I sprinted straight through the grand double doors at full tilt, skidding to a dusty halt just past the attendant’s desk. It was beautiful, incredible, until my foot went flying out from under me. I slammed butt-first into the fancy Cydre rug, slid, and plowed directly into the legs of the library attendant.

“Sayara?!” he exclaimed, catching himself on the corner of the desk as I dragged myself onto my feet and wheezed.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I—”

“Good. All according to plan,” I gasped, clutching at a stitch in my side. “Nobody knows I’m here. Keep it that way. And say hi to your brother for me!!” He rolled his eyes and straightened his jacket.

“Try not to knock over any students today.”

“Good chat, gotta go!!” I brushed library dust off of my scuffed-up breeches and checked the safety of the little box in my pocket, before making a mad dash into the stacks. Just up the ladder and two rows down, and then I’d be home free in a secret passage on the way to my north tower base. Brennadine’d never manage to follow me.

“Sayara! I mean it, young lady, get back here!” My governess’s strident voice rang through the atrium, and I sped up, stifling manic laughter and jumping onto the nearest ladder. I almost lost my balance when the weight of all the stuff in my pockets went swinging back and forth.

The ceilings in the library were high and arched, but not quite high enough to fly under, probably to discourage people like me from doing barrel rolls through the stacks. I could’ve totally pulled it off, if the roof was a little higher. Once I reached the top of the ladder, I scrambled up the last few shelves, and pushed myself on top of the stack entirely. I had to keep my head down to make sure I wouldn’t hit anything.

The next bit was the tricky part. Jumping rows was kind of dangerous. If I fell I’d have about 20 feet to go before I’d hit the ground, and usually I waited for a drifter case to float by and bridge the gap, but Lady Brennadine was hot on my heels. Being a governess and all, she loved manners—until it was time to chase me through the palace and lecture me for having a personality, at which point she’d abandon them completely in favor of clenched fists and shouting.

I paused to assess the situation. I could probably make the jump to the next row, but I was a klutz, and I didn’t need a broken ankle right now or ever. If I stood up to get a running start, I’d hit my head and fall, and then I’d crash into the group of academy students below and I really didn’t want to hurt anybody. The closest drifter case was still two shelves away, waylaid by someone trying to page through its contents.

But I couldn’t just let her catch me, she was pissed and I could think of at least four possible schemes she might’ve discovered. If she caught me with the new enchanted nutcracker in my pockets, she’d definitely assume the worst. I was both stronger and more agile than Brennadine, so if she grabbed me I theoretically could slip out pretty easily, but then I’d be in even more trouble—better to not get caught in the first place. But the gap was so wide...

By the time I resolved myself to jump for it, she was already up the ladder.

“Down. Now.” Brennadine clicked her fingers impatiently, then reached up to pull on my ankle. I took a deep breath, and launched myself off the end of the shelf—not realizing that my shoe had come untied until the laces snagged under my other foot and I tumbled headfirst over the side.  

I yelped, scrabbling at the bookshelf to catch myself, and knocked an entire row of encyclopedias away with me. The contents of my pockets went flying everywhere, too, which was arguably worse.

Brennadine’s hand came out of nowhere, and I grabbed on for dear life, and then everything stopped around me in the grip of her skilled telekinesis.

“How many times have we talked about this, again?” she reprimanded, clearly short of breath. I didn’t respond, I was too busy grappling with her unbelievably sweaty arm. “We—do not—climb—on top of the stacks.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, swinging my legs towards the shelf. I missed, kicking over more books, but managed to find purchase when I swung back. She was blatantly wrong, of course. People definitely climbed on top of the stacks, otherwise there wouldn’t be so many footprints up there. They couldn’t all be mine.

“You owe Mr. Baum an apology. For Four’s sake...” Brennadine kept mumbling to herself, but I elected to ignore her. I climbed down to ground level and scrambled to collect everything from my pockets, while she reassembled the library in a mist of teal-green telekinesis. The special nutcracker went immediately into my deepest pocket, I hoped she hadn’t noticed it... my box had rolled halfway under a shelf, but it was fine. I checked the hinges. Still jammed.

“It’s really all right, ma’am,” the library attendant promised. He started tidying up the books Brennadine hadn’t caught. “Oh, and Sayara, Daevin says thanks. I hope you weren’t helping him cheat again.”

“It’s not cheating, it’s entrepreneurial studying.” Brennadine scoffed. I tried to pointedly avoid eye contact, but she wouldn’t look at me, either.

If she wasn’t looking at me, then I had an opportunity. There was another passage to the tower within sprinting range, in the hall outside the armory. I took a few slow steps backwards, testing for a reaction. Nobody moved. I backed away further. When I hit the next shelf, I broke into a run.

A stray book swung into the backs of my knees, tripping me. “Don’t you dare,” Brennadine snarled, replacing the book with a flick of her wrist. Mr. Baum had taken over the task of sorting everything I’d knocked over. I laughed nervously.

“Actually, I think I have that geometry test to study for, since you told me to work on that, so I’ll just—”

“Sayara Ilse Tyriea.”

“You don’t have to full-name me!” Brennadine sighed and laid a hand on my shoulder, shutting me down before I could protest further.

“You need to behave with more grace.”

“Hey, I’ve got grace!”

“Is that so?” Brennadine raised her eyebrows, nodding back towards the wreckage of the bookshelves. I cringed.

“Well... unlike you, at least I wore pants today.”

“What? I’m wearing—SAYARA!!” Brennadine let go of me for an instant to check her trousers, and I made a break for the exit. The doors slammed shut in front of me.

“Quiet in the library,” Mr. Baum sighed from the stacks.

“Whatever you found, it was probably someone else’s fault!” I leaned up against the doors, swallowing reflexive manic laughter. Brennadine pinched the bridge of her nose, visibly exhausted.

“This is not an accusation,” she said. “And it has nothing to do with whatever half-baked scheme you’ve worked out in the old north tower.” My jaw went slack.

“What old north tower?” I bluffed. How did she know about the tower? You couldn’t even get inside without taking multiple secret passages, and Brennadine was hardly the type of woman to go exploring in the palace.

“I am not an idiot. I’ve seen you leave torches lit up there, and you must be going somewhere when you aren’t in your rooms,” Brennadine said. “I also know about the jewelry box, which needs to be returned to where it came from, please. Now listen to me.”

“What do you want? It’s my day off, you said. I thought you were going somewhere.”

“Your father wants you to accompany him this afternoon,” Brennadine said, grimacing in the most polite way possible.

“Isn’t he busy? I thought he and Hope were going somewhere.”

“Yes, and he’s inviting you to come with him,” she said. I blinked. “At far too late a moment, too, your sister has been preparing for weeks—”

“To what? Where?”

“Let’s not disturb the library any further,” Brennadine huffed. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out into the corridor, starting a brisk walk towards the residential wing. “Sayara. Today is Kyvesse the 14th.”

“...Yes?”

“Sayara, have you been neglecting your politics lessons?”

“Why do you only use my name when you’re telling me off?”

“You should know what’s going on this afternoon.”

“Um...” As much as I tried, I was drawing a total blank. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “There’s a...thing? A political thing.” Brennadine stopped in her tracks, and I walked into her by accident, stumbling. “What?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned heavily against the wall, her head thumping into the wallpaper. She looked so exhausted that I almost felt bad for her.

“There’s a thing. A thing.”

“Well, I’m not wrong,” I said, still wracking my brains for any memory of what Brennadine could be so worked up about. She sucked in a long nasal breath before exploding.

“The Convention of Tribes!! Today is the Convention of Tribes, and your father, the Tsi King, is extending you a spur-of-the-moment invitation! A thing, oh no, this is only the most important national political event of the year—no one would normally dream of bringing children of questionable origins along, but you’ve been granted that high honor out of nowhere, and here we are—a thing!” She laughed a bit hysterically, her left eye starting to twitch.

“Wait, you mean the Convention Convention?!” I blurted out, a little too loud. “But that’s...”

“Incredibly last-minute and ill-advised and threatening the fabric of the entire situation, yes, precisely!”

“I was going to say soon, doesn’t it always start at noon?” I wasn’t sure what time it was now, but it sure wasn’t early, and the Feian capitol was a few hours’ ride away.

“I’ve been trying to find you for two hours!” Brennadine exclaimed.

“But I’ve only been running a few minutes—”

“I expect you dressed in your best suit and ready to leave in fifteen minutes, I’ll tolerate no tomfoolery. Go. If I see that box with you, I will pitch it out a window.”

“But that’s barely any time at all!”

“And whose fault is that? Go,” she snapped. I dashed away before she could get meaner.

The Convention of Tribes? For once, Brennadine was right about something. I was about as prepared for the Convention as I was to fly to the actual moon. It was a choreographed political dance, tangled alliances and tempers and cultural exchanges mixing into a treacherous mess of checks and balances. You couldn’t just prepare for that in fifteen minutes!

This was a big freaking deal. I had to make the best possible impression—this could be the start of a career. Forget the top of my game, I’d have to be on top of the whole world...

But first, the original thing I’d been trying to achieve before Brennadine threw me off-track. When I started up the stairs to my room, I shoved my hand deep into my pockets, and retrieved the nutcracker and the box.

That jewelry box had been the bane of my existence ever since I’d first begun exploring the palace, back when I was seven or eight years old. I’d found it by itself in the dustiest corner of the dusty old north tower, looking like it hadn’t been touched in decades, or maybe even centuries. The box itself was plain, but an expensive-looking kind of plain—it was flocked with dark blue velvety fabric that hadn’t faded a bit despite the neglect, and dust-repellent spells that long-lasting didn’t come cheap. The hinges hadn’t rusted or eroded even a little bit. Naturally, I wanted to know what was inside.

But despite its great condition, the box wouldn’t open. It didn’t have a lock, the hinges were clean and seemed functional, I couldn’t see any evidence of sealing enchantments—not even through an aura-glass lens, and the good ones picked up even ancient traces of magic—it just wouldn’t work. I’d been trying to pry it open for years, fiddling with lockpicks, hitting it with hammers, I even set it on fire once, but nothing happened. It didn’t even burn.

I had to know what was in there. I’d heard from a few of the maids’ kids that the kitchen commissioned this new nutcracker, that had a really powerful breaking spell on it (for opening kysthers), and I figured I could try it on the case. It was something I could handle on the go, but the box was a little too big to fit properly between the pincher thingies. I jostled it in, finally squeezing the nutcracker handle as I pushed open the stairwell door into the residential wing.

Still nothing. Bummer. I’d mess with it more later.

I was going to the Convention of Tribes. Like, as in, my dad thought I was important enough to go to the Convention. Validation was sweet. This was the only major political event on a national scale where the heirs and protégés of the rulers were actually expected to attend alongside their tribes’ leaders, the big meetup where the Queen and tribes negotiated federal legislation. It was also one of the only times the Queen of Feilan would appear before the tribal nobility in person.

If I was smart about it, this could be a life-changing opportunity. Nobody ever took me seriously—I wasn’t usually invited to the Convention, I never got to sit in on Council meetings, I never had the chance to do anything important. If Dad changed his mind, then things were going to be different.

I ricocheted into my bedroom, tossing the nutcracker on my desk, and ruffled through the closet for my nice formal suits. I only owned one formal jacket that wouldn’t be a torture instrument in Rinali summer heat, but my good summer blouse was crumpled in a ball under my bed somewhere. I’d have to wear the green one I stole from Hope, even though it didn’t fit me right, my shoulders were too wide. I was in such a hurry to get my nice breeches onto my body that I put them on backwards three times in a row.

I ran for the door, then hesitated. Something was missing. I pulled my day breeches out of the growing laundry pile and dumped out the pockets. A few handfuls of sparkly rocks and acorns tumbled out, alongside the jewelry box. I grabbed the sparkliest quartz cluster and an acorn for luck, then poured them into my formal pants pockets, followed by the box—screw Brennadine’s rules—and a twisted length of twine. You never knew when string would come in handy. Empty pockets unnerved me.

Jewelry! Jewelry was a thing people wore at formal occasions. I bounced on my toes, thinking through the contents of my normal jewelry box, then snatched up a few gold sparkly things and jammed them in my other pocket. I’d deal with that on the ship, it was a couple hours’ ride to Eth Zantaara anyway.

By the time I made it back downstairs, armed with a little moleskin notebook and as much information about the other royals as I could remember, Brennadine and my sister were already waiting at the stairwell. I could practically see the hourglasses running down in Brennadine’s eyes.

“You forgot your circlet,” Hope said immediately. “And you’re late.”

“I know,” I said. I fumbled through my pockets, praying that the little gold circle of chain had been in the fistful of stuff I brought. It was, and I detangled it as best I could from a few necklaces before pulling it unevenly over my forehead. Hope rolled her eyes. I pulled my bangs out from under the band, hoping it’d make my head look less like an egg.

“Brennadine said you knocked over an entire bookshelf.”

“Nobody told me I was coming,” I said. “I’ve been busy, I was trying to—”

“Your bangs are a mess. Is that my shirt?” She walked over and fiddled with my hair as I protested weakly, the smell of her fancy imported perfume crashing into my nose like salt water. As always, Hope looked perfect, her platinum-blonde hair done up in some intricate braided bun and her eyes outlined neatly in charcoal. She could’ve been in a painting or something.

“It looks better on me,” I said.

“Absolutely not!”

“I think you’re jealous, green’s definitely my color. You’re a pathetic imitator in comparison.” I flicked one of my braids dramatically. Hope grabbed it and flicked it back into my face.

“I want that blouse back when we get home.”

“Boo hoo.”

“Boo hoo,” Hope mocked. “You look like you’ve been pulled sideways on the rack, I swear you’ll rip all the seams.”

“Well, you look like a taxidermied wildcat.”

“Let’s go, girls,” Brennadine said, sweeping down the hall towards the skyship dock. Hope scanned the rest of my outfit in appraisal mode, and I braced for impact.

“Please tell me you don’t have rocks in your pockets on the way to the Convention of Tribes,” she said.

“Throw the rocks away, Sayara,” Brennadine said absently. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I do not have rocks in my pockets,” I said, shuffling my pants so neither of them could see the rocks in my pockets. “You’re always accusing me of things.”

Hope didn’t reply. Hope raised magic, the stupid cheating cheater, and levitated my entire pocket inside out.

“Hey!” I snatched for my stuff, but Hope was faster.

“What is this, did you steal this from the tailor?” Hope asked, levitating my coil of twine into her hand. She made a face. “Or did it come from a shipwright?”

“Give it back!”

“You can’t bring string to the Convention of Tribes!”

“Why not? It was going to stay in my pocket, it could be useful,” I said. Hope rolled her eyes, and I made another grab for my things. This time I managed to catch most of my rocks, plus the jewelry box. I crammed it all back into my pocket. Brennadine gave her the evil eye as we boarded the royal yacht, and only then did Hope finally return my twine.

Hope never liked me. We got along all right, most of the time, and passed the rest off as normal sibling rivalry, but there’s more than that—the tension between us has been making things difficult ever since I came to the palace, back when I was so little I barely remembered anything. Hope and I are only half-sisters. I don’t know who my mom was, and if Dad does, he’s never said. He legitimized me as a member of the Tsi royal family a couple years ago, but the law couldn’t make Hope tolerate me.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think Hope saw me as a threat. That was her business and all if it was true, I’d long since learned not to care, but I wished she could be a little more subtle sometimes.

Brennadine was talking about politics now. Hope nodded along, commenting on every single line with her perfect talking points, which she somehow managed to produce even though she didn’t know what she was talking about. I left her to it—she liked to act like I was stupid, so that could be her problem. Oh, Sayara, you’re never paying attention. Blatant lies. I just paid attention selectively. Involuntarily selectively. Whatever.

This year’s Convention of Tribes was a stand-out for a few reasons, mostly involving the Irkatzi, our southern neighbor tribe. Out of Feilan’s twelve formally-recognized principalities, the Irkatzi were the most persistently outspoken. They were notorious for picking big melodramatic fights with the ruling del Aphir family, which would eventually be resolved with some tax shifts and truces, and then ten years later they’d be back to the same old song. Dad alternated between griping about them and calling them great entertainment.

“Excellent, you’re all here!” The door to the ship’s cabin swung open, and Hope’s eyes lit up.

“Dad! I was wondering when you’d arrive, I thought that with Sayara’s delay you would have beaten us to the ship!” Hope curtsied, perfectly as always, and then ran forward to hug our father. He hugged back with his fair share of amusement. I waved awkwardly.

Tsi King Doriel wasn’t the kind of man most people would picture when they thought of a king. He was on the shorter side, with worn-looking hands and a very square chin and light hair that always needed a trim. He was built stocky, more like me than Hope, and he dressed plainly. The heavy sapphire-studded crown on his head was the only real evidence of his rank, along with the fine make of his clothing.

“My preliminary meeting with the Council ran late,” he said by way of apology, grimacing. “Governor Heiden is still pushing that bank bill. He seemed delighted with the idea of humiliating me at the Convention by holding me late—remind me to say something to his constituents about that. Maybe they’ll solve the problem for me.”

“We’ve been discussing the issues on the table. Hope is very prepared, though Sayara is quite scatter-brained today,” Brennadine said. I bit back a protest.

“I’m so sorry for the late notice,” Dad said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be ready for an event like this, but Brennadine said you’ve done well in your tutoring, so I changed my mind.”

“She did?” I blinked. “Wait, why wouldn’t I be ready?”

“We must remember what happened when you last sat in on a Council meeting,” Brennadine pointed out. I wilted a little.

“It was just that one time! It got really loud, and people were yelling...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dad said quickly. “I think you’ll be just fine.” The little part of me that was dying inside perked up again.

“Good!”

“I notice you’ve made excellent marks in your tutoring. Brennadine tells me you’re quite skilled with history.”

“I’m trying my best.”

“If only you could transfer some of that passion into your other subjects,” Brennadine muttered.

“You’re familiar with the issues on the table at this Convention, correct?” Dad asked as the yacht took off.

“Yeah!”

“What does the Queen want?”

“The Queen hasn’t requested anything personally, but her advisors are pressuring us to cut grounded roads through the Deeps to access the coast,” I said. “It’s part of an infrastructure plan. They want safe landed highways through Tsi, Javrier, and Irkatzi territories, and they want them policed and open. They also want free access to the River Safir for Rinali merchants.”

“And our stance on this is?”

“They’re idiots who’ve never been in the woods before, and they should stick to our skyways unless they’re willing to pay for the roads themselves.” Dad grimaced.

“In court language?”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Land highways are expensive and difficult to maintain, we have better priorities for our budget than trade routes our natives won’t use, and it’s more efficient to use the sky roads because they’re naturally protected from the Deeps’ wildlife and already well-kept. The Rinali won’t pay for highways to be installed and policed, they expect that to come from our internal budget, and we don’t have the funds. I know how to talk fancy.”

“I wish you’d do so more often,” Brennadine said.

“Moving on,” Dad said. “What are the Irkatzi upset about this time?”

“This time,” I echoed, snickering. Dad cleared his throat. “Right. Um... the Rinali court upset them somehow, right? I know last year they were upset about tariffs, but we sided with them so it was okay. This year I want to say it’s about currency...yeah, some groups in the south of the territory are printing their own Irkatzi currency and the Crown Princess hasn’t stopped them yet.”

“There’s also the issue of the Rinali court itself.”

“Oh, right, right.”

“Rumor has it that Crown Princess Lilac intends to address the Queen directly about it,” Dad said. “That should be interesting.”

“Really?” Hope asked.

“She seems very angry. If nothing else, she’d certainly like an opportunity to complain in public and knock the Advisors away from their station. She’s loathed Lord fa Viandre since we were teenagers, and her comments were very... specific, this time around.” He cleared his throat. “Not that I would ever gossip about my fellow nobility.”

“Oh dear,” Hope said.

“Is that allowed?”

“What, my peer sending angry letters to me about the national government? She’s a Ravenhart, I don’t think anyone has the nerve to stop her. She lives up to the family reputation far more than Wisteria before her,” Dad said. “The more established noble families can get away with much more than we ever could.”

I drifted away from the conversation as Hope peppered Dad with more questions about the Irkatzi drama, pressing my face against the nearest porthole window and watching the land fly by beneath us.

We were out of Tsi territory by now, the heavy woods I was raised in giving way to open farmland, orchards, and low glades of trees. The Rinali heartland was rich and fertile, more so than almost anywhere else on the continent, but things didn’t grow as big here as they did back home. The tops of the trees petered out hundreds of feet below our ship, stunted to what everyone else insisted was normal size by the lack of aurza. Most of them barely reached twice the height of the grounded farmhouses scattered here and there.

The current capitol of Feilan, Eth Zantaara, was named for the huge and anomalous mountain the Queen’s castle sat upon. It was a recent creation, from only about ten years ago, so the city surrounding it was small and in various states of construction. Big noble mansions peppered the mountainside, sporting colorful flags and banners, and a chaotic cluster of homes and businesses crept out of the plains towards the mountain’s base. You could sort of see where the Queen’s architects had tried to enforce grid structure, but everything had been built so fast and aggressively that it hadn’t stuck in the slightest. Wide cobblestone roads led out of the area in a few different directions, fading off into the farmland still surrounding the city.

“You should have seen Lanorium back in the day,” Brennadine sighed, peering out her own window. “It puts this place to shame.”

“Hold on... Is that a tent?” Dad asked.

#taz talks #feilan #feilan excerpt #progress update #fantasy #writeblr #the ending to this chapter is a bit awkward #I might move it up a line and start chapter 2 with the 'is that a tent' comment #but i like my hook sentences too much #those who read the last version will note that this one is about the same length but ends at an earlier point in the story #this is because i had to add a lot of stuff to accommodate my new changes to the plot #aka the jewelry box which was not a factor last time #we got all kinds of interesting information up in here #i hope it's not too much #feilan's worldbuilding is pretty intense but there's a lot of stuff that i need to establish early in order for the plot to work

[wrestlingisfake]

Final Battle preview

Jay Lethal vs. Cody Rhodes - Lethal is defending the Ring of Honor world championship.  Cody is the current IWGP United States champion, but that title is not at stake.

Cody’s contract with ROH has reportedly expired, and it’s looking more and more like he will leave ROH altogether to participate in the new All Elite Wrestling venture.  So this is likely to be his final big ROH show, where he does the job to the champion on his way out.  Then again, there could be a swerve, where Cody and ROH secretly work out a short-term agreement and he wins the title to confuse fans who’ve been following that story.

Lethal is sort of ROH’s franchise guy, in the sense that he’s been a headliner during a period where all the other headliners have been leaving the company.  It’s a tough spot for him--he doesn’t give me that tippy-toppy guy feel, because I can’t shake the feeling that he’s only at that level because everyone better than him is gone.  Perhaps Cody can help by giving him the rub here, but he’s really the last star left to do that.  In 2019 Lethal is going to be king of a mountain that feels smaller than it did when he returned to ROH in 2011.

I think it’s at least possible that Cody could surprise us all with a title win.  But in the long run, the destination is Jay Lethal vs. Matt Taven, and since Taven is doing the “real world champion” gimmick Lethal should be the actual champion headed into that feud.  So I’m picking Lethal to retain.

Frankie Kazarian & Scorpio Sky vs. Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson vs. Jay Briscoe & Mark Briscoe - Kazarian and Sky (two thirds of SoCal Uncensored) are defending the ROH tag team championship in a three-way ladder match.  The title belts will be hung above the ring and the first team to retrieve them will be the winners and champions; ladders will be provided at ringside for the participants to use however they see fit.

Like Cody, the Young Bucks (Nick and Matt) are expected to be on their way out of ROH, and this match feels like their swan song.  In a story that hasn’t gotten as much attention, tough, SCU’s Kazarian and Christopher Daniels have also not re-signed with ROH, and they could be on their way out as well.  (I can’t find anything on Scorpio’s status.)  So aside from the fact these three teams have been feuding over the tag title for months, this may be the last chance to see any combination of them in the ring together.

ROH has generally protected the ladder match stip so that it feels more like a “this is the only way to settle it once and for all” deal, similar to cage matches and Texas death matches back in the old days.  Consequently, their ladder matches feel more climactic and important than those in other promotions, because you know the participants aren’t just going to rematch a month later.  So this is probably going to be a good time.  It may even be booked to close the show.

If I’m ROH, I want this match to put over the guys who are staying, and put them over hard.  The Bucks and SCU should be crumpled all over ringside while the Briscoes celebrate with the tag belts.  Kazarian and the Bucks should quickly vanish from television so the Briscoes can gloat about running them out of the company.  That’s how I’d do it, but ROH’s vision never seems to quite line up with mine...

Jeff Cobb vs. Adam Page - Cobb’s ROH television championship is on the line.  Page is--say it with me one more time--on his way out of the company with the rest of the Elite, so logically he should lose here.  These guys are both moving up the ladder quickly, so it ought to be fun to see them against one another.  But I would be very surprised if Page wins here.

Bully Ray vs. Flip Gordon - This is an “I quit” match, so there is only one rule in effect--once the match starts, it cannot end until the referee hears one participant verbally submit by saying “I quit.”  (Actually, ROH kinda already killed this stipulation by running an “i quit” match this week that ended as a no-contest due to outside interference.  I guess we’re supposed to act like this is WWE and pretend the bullshit TV finish can’t happen on the PPV.)

Bully Ray (best known as Bubba Ray Dudley in ECW and WWE) debuted in ROH in 2017 as a babyface veteran.  He dramatically “retired” in 2018 and was appointed to an enforcer role, but then he turned heel and mouthed off about all the flippy young guys ruining wrestling.  This concept has long since been done to death by WCW and TNA, but that didn’t stop ROH from giving it a go with Flip as the quintessential flippy young guy.  Bully has been getting heat on Flip for months, notably including a recent bit where Bully gave Flip a caning but Flip kept getting back up for more.

Flip is arguably the hottest babyface in ROH, and he almost certainly will be if/when the Elite and SCU leave.  The problem is that he’s the kind of white-meat babyface (like Ricky Steamboat, Tommy Dreamer, Daniel Bryan, and Johnny Gargano) where it’s so easy to get heel heat at his expense that the bookers lose sight of when it’s time for him to shine.  The caning angle perfectly sets up this match to blow off the feud, but it’s so perfect that they’re probably wondering if they can do it again, but even better.  For Flip to get anything out of this, he needs to win the feud and move on--he can’t just keep playing the lovable midcard loser getting bullied by heels forever.

This is the right time and place for Flip to take everything Bully can dish out, never quit, and then rally back to expose Bully as a coward and a quitter.  We’ll have to wait and see if ROH can figure that out.

Christopher Daniels vs. Marty Scurll - Scurll earned the right to challenge the ROH world champion in a match where he pinned Daniels to win, and now he’s putting that title shot at stake here.  Daniels is doing an angle where SCU is trying not to get kicked out of the company, and his teammates have the tag title to protect them, but he needs his own insurance.  Of course, in real life Daniels has not signed a new contract and it’s looking like he and Kazarian actually plan to leave soon.

Scurll, like the rest of the Elite, is expected to be departing ROH, but not on the same timetable.  He signed a short-term extension to keep him around through April, evidently to guarantee his participation in the April 6 Madison Square Garden show.  No one else from the Elite has signed such an extension, and I have to think ROH offered Scurll something good enough to sorta kinda break ranks.  I would not be surprised if they promised him a run with the world title and maybe even the world title match at MSG.  It’s pure speculation, but it would make sense.

Even if Daniels is on his way out and even if Scurll is earmarked for a title run, that doesn’t mean Scurll has to win this particular match.  But the safe bet is to pick the guy who’s staying over the guy who seems to be leaving.  And until we know more, that suggests Scurll wins.

Dalton Castle vs. Matt Taven - Taven is doing the old “real world champion” gimmick with an unsanctioned title belt, and he’s “defending” it here in this match.

A year ago, Castle won the world title and looked to be on track to be in the title picture throughout the 2018.  But various injuries caught up to him and he had to drop the belt to Jay Lethal in June.  It’s still not clear if Castle is fully recovered, or if he’ll ever get back into contention for the title.  The outcome of this match may indicate if he’s being pushed back to the top or held back in a “struggle to get back to the top” storyline.

For a while, Taven was probably best known as that one guy from The Kingdom that isn’t Adam Cole or Mike Bennett/Kanellis.  Then he relaunched the stable, which felt a bit like Tully Blanchard trying to start his own Horsemen, but okay.  Then he lost his hair in the main event of CMLL’s anniversary show, which seems to have kicked off a renewed heel push for him.  With so many other guys leaving, Taven has a big opportunity to step up.  The outcome of this match may indicate if they’ll step him up sooner rather than later.

The fact Taven is putting his fake belt up for grabs before a program with the actual champion kind of telegraphs the finish.  I don’t seriously believe Castle is going to win Taven’s belt and feud with him over it in the undercard like Ted DiBiase’s million dollar championship.  The logical endgame for this gimmick is Taven challenging Lethal, so Taven needs this win to get there.

Sumie Sakai vs. Madison Rayne vs. Karen Q vs. Kelly Klein - Sakai is defending the Women of Honor championship in a four-way elimination match; the loser of each fall is eliminated from the match until the last participant left is the winner and champion.

I have to give ROH credit for establishing a women’s division, but they’ve got a long way to go to catch up with WWE, or even Impact.  I follow ROH pretty casually, but I can still work out all the major happenings with the men.  The women, however, feel like blank slates with no noticeable storylines or personas.  I kinda know Madison from Impact, and Sakai is clearly the aging veteran proving she’s still got it with a length title reign.  If the company is serious, they need to get to a point where I don’t have to ask who people like Karen Q and Kelly Klein are.  That may be difficult to do when they run like six big shows a year and maybe one women’s match on each of them.

At this point the safe bet is to pick Sakai.  She should put over the next big star for the division, but I don’t think ROH has any idea who that will be.

Zack Sabre, Jr. vs. Jonathan Gresham - Gresham declared he wanted to prove he’s the best technical wrestler today, and Sabre answered he challenge.  It feels like ROH is trying to elevate Gresham, but that doesn’t necessarily go as far as putting him over a key New Japan guy.  This could become one of those deals where Gresham is feted merely for losing a well-fought battle.  For Sabre this is just one last stop before arguably the biggest match of his career at Wrestle Kingdom, so it’s hard to imagine him losing here.

Kenny King vs. Eli Isom - This is set to be the opening match.  Kenny is so ageless--and perennially working his way up from the bottom of the card--that I keep forgetting he was the guy from Tough Enough season 2, where they went to South Africa and everybody talked about how he got laid.  Good for you, Kenny!  Anyway, he’s 37 now and he’s still around.  I’ve never heard of Isom and I’m pretty sure he’s just a jobber at this point.  I’m going with King to win.

#roh #final battle #jay lethal #cody rhodes #the young bucks #socal uncensored #the briscoes

[fandammit]

Loss like the sharp edges of a knife (7/8)

[A/N: At this point should you even believe me as to when this fic will be completed? Probably not. I love you all, thank you for your support and reading and continued patience. PS. Death Wish Coffee is a real coffee and I nearly died when I found that out.] 

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

It's two days later when he gets a present back from Karen.

He's running past her apartment with Gracie, expecting nothing but the low grade thrill he always gets when he runs past her place, when he looks up and sees the pot of daffodils sitting out on the windowsill.  

He stops abruptly on the sidewalk beneath her fire escape, the movement so sudden that Gracie yelps a bit as her collar digs into her throat from the force of the stop.

He immediately drops down to one knee and loosens her collar, rubbing his fingers across her neck.

“Sorry girl,” he says softly, breathless in a way that he knows is only partially from the effort of running the last half hour.

He squints up at windowsill, trying to make out what might be waiting for him. It’s looks too big and heavy to be her simply returning the book to him, which he knows is a ridiculous fear to have but has weighed heavily on his mind in these last two days anyway.

He gives Gracie a few more rubs to her neck, then walks her over to the streetlamp nearby and loops her leash around it and tells her to sit and stay.

A few minutes later, he’s back down with a substantially heavy box under his arm. He almost wants to wait around for Karen, for any number of reasons, really, but right now because of the fact that she’d left her window half open and wedged the box underneath it to hold it in place. He’d closed it firmly before he’d descended down the ladder, but just knowing that it’s unlocked, capable of being easily opened and slipped through by any passing stranger sets off a wave of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

He feels Gracie brush up against him and drops down to his knee to scratch behind her ears.

She lets him get in a few scratches, but it’s obvious that she’s far more interested in the box in his hands. Which makes sense, since he’s pretty sure it’s mostly for her seeing as the words Bark Box are stamped on the front of it.

He opens it up and finds an explainer card for what is apparently a subscription box meant to spoil Gracie every month. This month’s theme is apparently “May Flowers,” a small point of fact that makes him smile.

He -- with plenty of help from Gracie -- rifles through the box and finds two toys, a bag of treats and a rawhide chew stick. In the corner of the box, wedged between plush, stuffed flower pot and a rubber flower chew toy, is a mug with painted pitbulls on it. Inside is a gift card stuck in a plain brown envelope with an address written on the front in Karen’s firm, looping script.

He opens up the bag of treats and gives Gracie one as he looks up the address on his phone. He and Gracie walk over to his truck so he can drop off the box -- to her great consternation -- then keeps walking West from Karen’s apartment.

The coffee shop is just a few blocks down, a relatively nondescript brick storefront with the wide open windows and plush seating you might expect from any other coffee shop. He leans over and looks at the name -- Vigilantes, written in bold, blocky font on the front window.

He squints a bit at it and tilts his head, considering the name. He’s about to loop Gracie’s leash around one of the chairs when he sees a sign on the door that reads, “Dogs welcome and encouraged!” The corner of his mouth quirks up as he reaches out and opens the door, steps inside to the pleasant smell of coffee beans.

The walls are covered with art of the many different superheroes this city’s got zipping around it at any given time, interspersed with framed front pages of newspapers with headlines about aliens and science experiments gone wrong and gods from other worlds.

He walks up to the counter and is greeted by a kid who can’t be any more than 19, long dark hair falling in waves around his face. The kid smiles widely at him, energy practically buzzing off of him.

“Hey, hey, welcome to Vigilantes. Have you been here before?”

“I have...not.” He holds up Karen's gift in his hand. “Got a gift card.”

“Cool, man, cool. So, each of our orders is based on a different superhero or vigilante. For example,The Hulk -- the beans are roasted --.”

The kid’s voice fades into the background as he scans the menu in front of him. When he sees what he's looking for, he holds up a hand to him.

“Hey, uh -- can you tell me what type of drink I get if I order a Punisher?”  

The kid -- Allen, according to his name tag -- smiles widely.

“Yeah man, sure, sure. That's actually one of my favorites. So, it’s just straight up black coffee, no fuss, no muss, nothing added. The beans are roasted at a shop here in New York -- little place in Saratoga Springs. It's this incredibly bold flavor with a kick --  oh, shit, sorry! I'm supposed to show you a bag, too, in case you wanna buy some -- hold on.”

He ducks down for a moment, then comes back up with a black coffee bag in his hand.

Frank grabs the bag of coffee and studies it. It's all black with a skull and crossbones stamped on the middle of it, the words Death Wish Coffee Co. circling around it.

“So, yeah,” Allen continues on rapidly, “it's called Death Wish Coffee, and like, perfect right? They say it's the strongest coffee in the world, which I absolutely believe, because this stuff will absolutely, absolutely kick your ass.”

Frank purses his lips for a moment to try to keep from smiling, then just bows his head towards his chest and laughs -- a deep, loud sound that comes from some place in him that only rarely sees the light of day.

He looks up and sees Allen looking at him with a confused expression and clears his throat, though he knows that there’s probably still a too-wide grin on his face.  

“I’ll take an 8 ounce Punisher, Allen.” He holds the bag of coffee up. “And I’ll take one of these, too.”

He hands the card over to Allen, who smiles brightly at him.

“Alright man, cool, cool.” He looks down at the screen and taps it a few times. “Oh! You want beans or grounds? Because I gave you beans.”

“Grounds,” he says, handing the bag back over to Allen, who takes it and disappears beneath the counter for a second before coming up with a different bag.

“Here you are, man.” He swipes Frank’s card, then turns the screen around so that it faces Frank. “And just so you know, you had 50 bucks on the card originally, and you have 27 bucks left on the card after the drink and the grounds.” Allen smiles even wider as Frank taps for a 20% tip. “Oh hey! I think I know your friend who got you this gift -- Karen, right? Blonde, tall and, like, willow-y -- works for the Bulletin?”

Frank blinks rapidly. Her name catches him off guard, and he hopes that he’s managed to smooth out the longing in his expression to something flatter, more neutral.

“Uh, yeah, sounds like her.” He glances around the shop, imagines her walking in, her blue eyes bright and sparkling. He feels his expression falter. “She in here often?”

Allen makes a so-so motion with his shoulders, tilts his head back and forth.

“I mean, we just opened last week, so we haven’t had too many people come through yet, but she’s been in two or three times at least, I'd say -- on her way to work. I remembered her because there haven’t been many people who’ve bought a gift card, and definitely no one else who bought one for fifty.” He clicks his tongue, bounces up on the balls of his feet as he thinks. “And I just remembered her working at the Bulletin because she said that she doesn’t write up food or drink stuff, but that she’d pass our name along to the guy who does, which is good because -- .”

Jesus, this kid must drink the coffee by the gallon. He can practically feel him vibrating with energy.

“Yeah, that’s Karen,” he says, and he manages to shake himself free enough of his distracted longing to offer the kid a genuine smile. “She, uh, she knows I’m a big coffee guy. Always looking for the strongest stuff.” He grabs the cup that’s materialized in front of him during Allen’s long, rambling explanation and takes a sip, then whistles low and smacks his lips together. “And I gotta say, that does feel like a bit of an ass kicking.”  

Allen smiles broadly at him. Frank wonders how the kid’s cheeks don’t hurt all the time from the force of his continued smiling, but also decides that it’s somewhat endearing in its own way.

“Yeah, right? It totally is.” He swivels the screen back around to face him. “So, also, there’s a dog bowl of water in the corner over there if you want to sit and chill a little bit with your dog. And treats, too -- homemade!”

Frank tips the coffee cup in Allen’s direction, then walks over to the recliner in the corner that he pointed out. There’s a jar filled with bone shaped treats next to him, and he promptly finds the biggest one and gives it to Gracie before he sits down.

It’s actually a pretty nice little place, all things considered. The decor on the walls is interesting where it might be kitschy, there’s a glass display case of some nice looking pastries, and hadn't been lying when he said the coffee was the strongest he’s ever had.

Gracie finishes up her treat and stretches in front of him before laying down at his feet and resting her head on top of his shoe. To anyone that might be watching, he knows it must look like a quiet moment of contentment. And it might be, too, if he could manage to tamp down the excess of emotions that have been slowly and steadily rising up from the pit of his stomach ever since Allen said Karen’s name at the counter.

Because all he can think about is sharing in this place, in this moment with her. All he can think about is the wry look on her face as she watches him order a Punisher, the pointed way she’d order some other drink -- a Thor, maybe, or a Captain America. It’s absurd how clearly he can see the teasing glint in her eyes, how distinctly he can hear her laughter in the air. He thinks about the way she would brush against him as she laughed, the easy way he might knock his shoulder into hers to let her know he’s teasing. As if they’ve spent endless conversations laughing and joking with one another, as if they’ve ever had more than mere moments of lighthearted conversation.

It’s ridiculous, he knows, to miss something that you’ve never even really had in the first place.

But it doesn’t stop him from missing it. 

“So, I didn’t realize that you and Karen had been in touch,” David says a few nights later, looking across the table at him.

He huffs out a sardonic laugh and sits back down heavily across from him, picks up his beer bottle and takes a swig before answering.  

“So, what - you two -. “ He levels the bottle and between where David and Curtis are sitting. “You just gossiping about me while I’m in the bathroom?” He shakes his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t’ve asked you both to have a beer after all.”

Curtis laughs as David shrugs, a grin stretched out across his face.

“Gifts on her windowsill, Frank? Really? I was half-joking when I said that to you.”

“I don’t know why you’re even surprised,” Curtis says, leaning back in his chair and eyeing David. “You knew about the flowers on the windowsill from before. I just found all this shit out last week.”

“Which, by the way,” David says, narrowing his eyes at Frank, “I can’t believe you’ve been coming over twice a week for, like, over a month and you never mentioned this.”  

Frank purses his lips, then shrugs a shoulder.

“You never asked.”

David huffs.

“I was trying to be, you know -- cordial or some shit. Wait for you to bring it up.”

“Not really much to bring up, David.”

Curtis laughs as David swivels in his chair and looks at Frank incredulously.  

“You and Karen are leaving each other hats and photos and whatever other shit on her windowsill like you’re in some sort of 18th century, like, Victorian novel or something. That’s definitely something, Frank.” David narrows his eyes, tilts his head at Frank. “You do know we have email, right? The postal service even?”

“Nah, that’s not dramatic enough for Frank,” Curtis says, a truly shit eating grin on his face. “Man’s got a love for the theatrics.”

Frank scoffs and finishes up the rest of his beer, then looks across the table at the two men opposite of him and shakes his head.  

“You know, I’m regretting introducing the two of you to one another.”

Curtis just smiles at that while David leans in across the table.

“So, what’d you give her other than the photo of you and Gracie?”

He tilts his head, narrows his eyes at David.

“What makes what you think I gave her anything else but that?”

David shrugs.

“It’s not exactly reciprocal in nature, right? You leave Karen flowers and bullets, she leaves you coffee and a beanie. You leave her a picture, she leaves you a picture. It wouldn’t be even if she gave you and Gracie a gift and you just gave her a picture of you two, yeah?”

Frank shrugs, tries to keep a neutral expression on his face.

“Seems like you sure think you’re right.”

“That means you’re right, man,” Curtis adds in as he leans back in his chair. “Now I’m curious, too, Frank. We know that it’s gotta be something that tells Karen something about you or how you been doing.” He taps his fingers on the table, a thoughtful look on his face.

David glances over at Curtis.

“Why is that something that we know?”

Frank turns towards him as well, curious about his answer.

Curtis gestures towards Frank as he turns towards David.

“Well, that’s the pattern as far as I can tell -- Karen gives him things to let him know that she’s thinking of him, Frank gives her stuff to let her know how he’s trying to build a life that doesn’t revolve around vengeance.”

“That's - huh.” Frank sits back in his chair and purses his lips, nods as he considers Curtis’ words.

“You really didn’t realize that was the pattern?” Curtis shakes his head and huffs a laugh. “I thought it was pretty damn obvious.”

“Yeah, well -- sometimes Frank has trouble seeing what's obvious to everyone else,” David adds, grinning over at Frank, who has the sudden urge to both roll his eyes and punch David squarely in the chest.

He does neither, just reaches across the table and finishes David’s beer with one long swig.

“I left her a book,” he says, wiping his mouth before setting the empty bottle down in front of him. “Moby Dick.”

David and Curtis both shoot him near identical looks of exasperation and disapproval.

“Frank, what the hell,” David blurts out, at the same time that Curtis says --

“Are you serious, Frank?”

He shrugs.

“It’s one of my favorite books.”

“Makes sense,” David says, giving Frank a crooked grin. “Little on the nose though, yeah?”

Curtis is just shaking his head next to him.

“Jesus Christ, Frank. She gives you a nice shirt, and you give her a homework assignment.” He furrows his brows. “Hold up -- that doesn’t exactly follow the pattern you two have set up. So there has to be, I don’t know, some kind of specific reason for it.”

“A reason other than that you want her to stop communicating with you altogether because you gave her a 700 page novel about a whale,” David jokes, a slight tinge of incredulity to his words. “Moby Dick, Frank. Seriously?”

“Well, it was my copy of Moby Dick, if that makes you feel any better.”

David raises an eyebrow.

“It...doesn’t. Should it?”

Frank sighs and leans back, stretches his arm out across the back of the chair next to him. There’s a part of him that just wants to shut down the conversation completely -- shrug it off and stonewall the two, or just get up and pay his tab -- but it’s overruled by the part of him that knows that this is all part of building a friendship, of building his life back up from nothing. So he just sighs heavily and looks over at Curtis.

“I was listening to you, you know.” He makes a looping gesture with his hands. “Uh, what you said -- what you said to me the other night.” He fidgets a bit, taps his fingers along the side of the chair. “Karen -- she doesn’t really know me, she doesn’t...she can’t really know me.”

“That’s not all I said, Frank,” Curtis says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but…” He rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “But it’s true, right? It’s -- .”

“It’s not the whole truth,” Curtis interjects. “If you remember, I also said that Karen could help you figure out what -- who -- you might be.”  

“But she, uh, deserves to know -- should at least have the chance to know who I am. As much as, you know, as much as anyone can.” He folds his arms in front of him. “The copy that I left her...it’s the one I read, shit, at least half a dozen times when I first got my apartment. It has, uh, it has all my notes and shit in it, right? Shit I wrote in the margins, shit that I underlined. It just, it -- it has all my shit in it. It...it has a lot of me in it.” He swivels his head between Curtis and David. “Figured Karen at least should...she reads that, and it gives her a pretty good idea about me. Then, you know.” He shrugs and nods. “Whatever she decides.”

He sees Curtis and David glance at one another.

“Well, I think you're an idiot,” David says.  

“Thanks David. Appreciate that.”

David gives him a wry look and shakes his head.

“Not for giving her a book -- for thinking that could change anything.” He looks around, then leans forward in his chair. “She met you when you were on trial for murdering 37 people, Frank. She's not gonna care that you have some weird affinity for Ahab.”

He has both the urge to argue with David and the desperate need to believe him. Gives in to neither and instead settles for giving David a long, inscrutable look.

“It's not,” he finally says, because he’s suddenly struck by the fact that two men sitting across from him know him better than anyone that’s currently alive, and that neither of them know much at all about what Karen is to him. At least, who she is as much as he can explain it.

He’s not quite sure he can handle any more lines of questioning about what Karen may or may not do, about who he is or isn’t. But he can talk about what Karen has done for him. He thinks the two men sitting across from him deserve at least that.  

“It’s not…” David starts, a questioning look in his eyes. “You don't have a weird affinity for Ahab?”

Frank shakes his head.

“Nah, man -- it's not when I first met her. Not, you know, technically, at least.” David looks surprised, while Curtis just looks interested. “She was helping to protect this shitbag Kitchen Irish member -- Grotto -- and...”

Curtis raises an eyebrow.

“And you were…”

Frank shrugs.

“Shooting at Grotto.”

David, for some reason, looks infinitely disappointed in this story.

“Ok, so, not quite the meet-cute I had in mind for you two.“ He sighs heavily, like he’s just had some dream of his ripped to pieces. “I guess that is a more you story though -- meeting Karen when you’re shooting at her.”

“At Grotto.”

David rolls his eyes.

“In her direction, then.” David tilts his head and furrows his brows. “I’m going to assume that your second meeting was less, you know, guns and violence, since somewhere down the line she actually wanted to help you.”

He looks down at the table, scratches at a mark that’s probably been there for the last ten years, then licks his lips and looks back up at Curtis and David.

“Second time I met her, I was in police custody. Beat to hell, strapped to a hospital bed. They had this, this red fucking tape -- just this box around my hospital bed that no one was supposed to cross for their own safety or some shit.” The corner of his mouth quirks up, even though the memory can’t actually be described as anything even approaching pleasant. “Karen crossed it, though, ‘cause…’cause that’s just who she is.” At this, he can’t help but smile, thinking of her. The fearlessness, the determination. Thinks she would’ve made a hell of a Marine. “She was with the two attorneys on the case, and I just...I didn’t give a shit about them, about the case, about anything. I was just -- I was done, you know. Just really done.” He shakes his head. “But Karen, she was just getting started. She’d done all this research, you know, looked into my story, realized that something wasn’t right. That there was some shit going on. So she sees me, and she knows that I’m just some asshole who’s gonna end up dead if I don’t get my shit together, so she crossed that tape, right, she crossed that line. And she -- she shows me this picture of my family -- me, Maria, the kids at the carousel and…” He trails off, finds that he can’t meet either man’s eyes for a moment.

“How’d she get a picture?” David asks. “I wouldn’t think that’d be in your file.”

He looks up, lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug.

“She broke into my house.”

Curtis blinks rapidly at that, while David just shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle.

“You know, it’s no wonder you like her so much -- you’re both driven as hell, and neither of you have any kind of sense of self-preservation.”

Frank ducks his head down, thinks about the truth of the second part of that statement and frowns. He wishes that was one thing that they didn’t share.

He clears his throat.

“The whole time, you know, that whole trial -- it, uh, it mattered to her.” He glances sideways at both Curtis and David once, before looking back down at the table. “Finding out the truth about what happened to me, what happened to my family. It mattered to her that we did something about it.”

Even now, he can hardly believe that it’s true. He wonders if she knows what that meant to him -- to have someone notice that he was once a man, to have someone remind him what it meant to be more than a mission. He hopes she does -- hopes that their wordless exchanges aren’t limited to matters of safety and times of crisis.

(Another part of him, quiet but insistent, tells him that he doesn’t have to simply hope. That this is an exchange that doesn’t, needn’t be wordless. He ignores it. Finds that it isn’t as easy as it was before.)

Curtis rubs his temple, narrows his eyes at Frank.

“You mattered to her, Frank.” He waits for Frank to meet his gaze before he continues, picks up that prior thread of conversation like it hasn’t been over a week since they first started talking about it. “That’s what all this tells me. It’s never been about your mission or your war. It’s always been you.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just tilts his head back and forth, makes a noise that might be agreement, might just be him clearing his throat. He notices David and Curtis exchanging glances again, but can’t quite make out what passes between them.

Finally, David clears his throat.

“I guess it makes sense -- her wanting to make sure the truth came out. That’s what she did with Union Allied, too, right?”  

Frank furrows his brows.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that’s how she ended up working for your attorneys, uh --.” He snaps his fingers a few times. “Nelson and Murdock -- that’s it -- in the first place, right?” He frowns at the look on Frank’s face. “She got framed for murdering someone at Union Allied, Nelson and Murdock took her case on against the murder charges, turned out there was some shady shit going on at Union Allied that she knew about? I mean, stuff that went all the way up to Wilson Fisk.” He spreads his hands out in front of him, palms up. “Shit, Frank, do you really not know any of this? I mean, I didn’t even have to dig very deep for it -- few front page articles, connected a couple of dots.”

Frank crosses his arms tightly in front of him. David squints at him, takes in his posture, his expression.

“It bothers you.”

“What?”

“It bothers you that I might know more about Karen than you do.”

He grunts, raises his shoulders in a tight imitation of a shrug.

“Maybe it bothers me that you felt like you needed to look her up.”

“Frank, c’mon. I didn't know who she was. I didn't know how she fit into everything, and you weren’t exactly as chatty as you’re being right now.” He sighs. “I needed to know that I could trust her.”

“And what you found -- that made you trust her?”

David shrugs, the corner of his lip turning up in a small half-smile.

“I learned to trust you.”

Frank relaxes his shoulders and forces the scowl off his face, lets the air of his lungs slowly.

“Yeah, alright.” he mutters. “Ok.”

“You know, what you could do if it bothers you that David knows all this stuff about Karen that you don’t?” Curtis asks. “You could just ask her about it yourself.”

He chews the bottom of his lip, tilts his head, looks back and forth between the two men.

“I left her that book, right?” He scrapes a hand across the stubble on his chin. “We’ll see how she feels after it.”

He says it with a finality that signals that the conversation, as far he’s concerned, is over. And it must speak to his friendship with both Curtis and David that they simply accept that, easily turn the conversation to other, more mundane and normal aspects of their lives.

He’s glad to have them both here, together; knows he’s fortunate to have a sounding board and a guiding hand and sharpened steel knife when he needs it. But it’s exhausting, too -- laying himself open like this, pulling parts of himself and holding them up to the light.

Which is why it’s only a little bit later that he wraps up the night, citing an early morning run and a long boxing workout with Paul as a reason to head home before 10 p.m.  

Curtis nods as David signals to the waitress for their check.

“So, this early morning run -- doesn’t by any chance take you right past Karen’s, does it?” David asks as he stands up to go.

“Maybe,” Frank replies mulishly.

David grins.

“Well, in that case, I fully expect to hear about you seeing Karen in person the next time I see you because she is not going to give a shit about whatever it is you wrote in Moby Dick.” He claps Frank on the back, then holds out a hand to Curtis. “Good seeing you again, Curtis.”

Curtis stands up, pulls David in for a half-hug.

“You too, David. We’ll do it again soon.”

David smiles at that, gives both men a final wave before he heads out of the bar.

Frank signs his receipt and stands up, stretches his hands above his head.

“You are though, right?” Curtis asks.

“I’m gonna…?”

“You’re gonna see Karen in person once you get your book back? You’re not gonna drag this out or wait for her to give you a goddamn, I don’t know, handwritten invitation or something before she finally convinces you that she really does want to see you?” He ducks his head down, raises an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna be a wallowing asshole, right, Frank?”

Frank purses his lips and nods.

“I -- uh -- yeah, Curt, yeah. I’m not gonna be a wallowing asshole.”

“Good, because that offer still stands -- I will kick your ass for being one.”

He huffs out a small laugh, shakes his head and glances up at Curtis.

“How are you on her side and you’ve never even met her?”

Curtis breathes in deeply, reaches out and rests a hand on Frank’s shoulder.

“I’m on your side, Frank. I always have been.” He drops his hand, crosses his arms in front of him. “You’d rain down hell on anyone that messed with Karen, wouldn’t you? On someone that hurt her?”

He narrows his eyes at Curtis.

“You know I would.”

Curtis tips his head in Frank’s direction.

“Well, you keep this up much longer, Frank, and that person is gonna be you.”  

#kastle #kastle ff #frank castle #curtis hoyle #david lieberman #i love curtis so much??? he's such a big part of these last sections and it's been the best thing to write #my fic #fic: loss like the sharp edges of a knife