#this does take place in the castle where the collector is doing his game thing

[sadbutbadboi]

Ok 2 things

So this screenshot of the promo, 2 things I'd like to point out (because i haven't seen anyone else say anything)

Ok so first we see a circle with some small shapes surrounding it, the circle is crossed out. This immediately made me think of both the teleportation symbol (glyph? Or whatever sort of magic the collectors use perhaps) from edge of the world and the spinny circle thing from elsewhere and elsewhen. (At a stretch, perhaps even the draining spell, but u don't think this is likely). The first option, especially the first, tie into the other collectors pretty well which could be showing our collector showing a disdain for them and is actively against them which I think up until now has only ever really been implied (correct me if im wrong). Alternatively if it represents the spinny circle thing it could be the collector saying something about his imprisonment in the in-between, we only ever see that circle when he's trapped in there.

Why the fuck does it say beenos??

#ok nvm looking at it now it definitely says belnos #looking that up doesnt really come up with anything relevant though #if i had to guess mispelling of belos #this does take place in the castle where the collector is doing his game thing #something about people he hates #his nightmare game if you will #idfk #this probably makes no sense im sick #the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #the collector #toh theory #emperor belos

[braincoins]

Shallura&Ryoumelle SpaceMall double date!

They watched Coran leave and then the questions came at the same time:

“Does this place even accept Altean currency?” “Who even is this?” 

Ryou peered at the bills Coran had insisted upon him.

“We have some GAC,” Romelle assured him. “But I’m pretty sure no one around here takes Altean currency anymore.”

Shiro folded his stack of Altean bills and stowed it away. “Well, we can at least window shop.”

It was Allura’s turn to ask a question. “Why do we need windows?”

“No, it means we can just look at things but not really buy anything.”

“Well, what’s the point of shopping if you’re not going to buy something?” Allura asked in genuine confusion. 

“Sometimes it’s just nice to look and daydream,” Romelle said.

“But if you don’t need anything or can’t buy something, then why would you...?”

“Maybe we should split up,” Ryou suggested quickly. “Meet back at the food court in a varga?”

“Does this place have a food court?” Shiro asked.

“It’s a mall; food courts are required.”

“I’m sure there is somewhere to eat,” Romelle agreed. “And appropriate signage to direct us. Let’s go!” And she grabbed Ryou’s hand and hauled him off towards a store that had caught her eye.

“I’m still confused,” Allura protested.

Shiro slung an arm over her shoulders. “Let’s just enjoy the time together away from the ship.”

She smiled. “I think I can do that.”

----------

Ryou and Romelle were already seated at the food court when Shiro and Allura got there. They found them by Romelle’s waving from her seat. Judging by the trays in front of them, they’d already found some lunch.

“Oh my Goddess,” she breathed when Allura set down four bags of shopping. “We didn’t have that much GAC, did we?”

“Don’t tell me you opened a credit account at all these places,” Ryou said, sounding horrified.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Shiro told him. “It turns out there’s a store that, among other things, buys old currency. And the Altean bills Coran gave us are extremely rare and valuable collector’s items.”

Ryou’s eyebrows went up. “I need the name of this store immediately and for you guys to stay here with Romelle.”

She pouted. “Why can’t I come with?”

He blushed. “Because it’s a surprise.”

Shiro chuckled. “Swynwyck’s Surprises, that way, on the left.”

“Thank you!” And Ryou was off like a shot.

“Let me show you what I bought,” Allura said, dutifully falling into distraction mode. 

“I’ll get us some food,” Shiro volunteered.

“I want some of whatever they’re selling,” Allura told him, nodding at the busiest of the food vendors. The line was long, but seemed to be moving quickly. 

“Coming up, Princess.” He kissed her cheek and went to queue.

Allura pulled out a cute dress and some shoes that went with it, but Romelle noticed she was watching Shiro as she did so. Satisfied at last that he was busy, the lost princess of Altea sidled up to her cousin and whispered, “I also managed to make a few purchases when Shiro wasn’t watching.” She pulled up a bag and opened a smaller bag hiding under a light sweater, letting Romelle peer in.

She whistled quietly. “Oh, he’s going to like you wearing that.”

“Who said I was going to be wearing it?”

They both laughed as Allura hid the purchase away again.

“You really have no idea what it is Ryou’s so intent on buying for you?”

“None. I mean, there were a lot of cute clothes I saw, but I can’t think of anything I was especially fond of. Though there was one store where he was acting kind of... weird. Maybe he found something he wanted to buy for me there?”

“Maybe. I’m very curious myself as to what it might be, so hopefully it’s not anything like...” She nodded towards the bag with its hidden surprise.

Romelle giggled and blushed. “I don’t think he’d let me open it here if that’s the case. What else did you get?”

Allura continued showing off her new acquisitions - mostly clothes, but also a new comtab (for Pidge), an old comtab (for Hunk to take apart and play with, in the hopes that he’d stop taking apart various pieces of the Castle), a new video game for the console that Pidge and Lance had bought on their last trip, and a boot knife for Keith.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to give him more knives?”

“A Paladin must always be prepared,” she said.

“Level with me: You just make up that ‘Paladin Code’ stuff as you need to, don’t you?”

Allura opened her mouth to protest but Shiro had returned with two trays of food and drink, sliding one in front of Allura grandly. “For my princess.” 

“Thank you, my paladin,” she replied, patting the chair next to her. “Please do join us.”

He took the proffered seat and closed his eyes to inhale the scent of the food. “Man, this smells almost as good as the stuff Hunk makes.” He dug in with gusto. 

Ryou came running back up with a small bag in hand. He all but fell into the chair next to Romelle, but offered her the bag gently. "For you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she told him as she took the bag. “I’m happy just spending time with you.”

“I know, but... I wanted to. To get you this, anyway. It just... well, open it.”

The bag’s contents were wrapped in tissue paper (or something very like it), and Romelle had to pull that away before she gasped and pulled out a large wrap the color of sunlit grass and hemmed with beautiful butterfly-esque creatures. The whole thing shimmered faintly, but the material, though light, was soft to touch.

“Y-you’ve said before that you get a little chilly some mornings, especially in the spring and autumn, and this just... it reminded me of you.”

Romelle threw her arms around him. “It’s lovely! Thank you so much!” When she released him, she draped it around herself immediately. “It’s so soft!”

“It’s gorgeous, just like you,” Allura told her.

“I think that was supposed to be your line,” Shiro told his brother around a mouthful of food.

“Don’t talk while you’re eating,” Ryou scolded him.

“I want to buy you something, too,” Romelle said. “Maybe something from the Earth store that Allura mentioned.”

“Just don’t get him a cow,” Shiro suggested. 

“What’s a cow?”

“You don’t want to know,” Allura said immediately, shoving some food into her mouth as if doing so would wipe the memory from her mind.

“I don’t need anything but more of your smiles,” Ryou told her.

“That’s better,” Shiro said approvingly.

“Shut it or I tell them about the last time you were at a mall.”

Shiro gasped in betrayed outrage. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well, now I want to know,” Allura pouted.

“No, you don’t,” he shot back immediately. “Not if you want me to wear that thing you think I didn’t notice you buying.”

“YOU SAW?”

“I think I don’t want to know now,” Ryou said, but Romelle just giggled.

“Come on, let’s go to the Earth store and leave them to pretend to fight,” she suggested, rising from her seat still wearing the wrap. “You can pick out whatever will make you happiest.”

He was on his feet immediately. “You make me happiest.”

“I’m not for sale.”

“Of course not, you’re priceless.”

She blushed again. “Stop.”

“Maybe when you say that like you mean it.”

#Shallura #Ryoumelle #Socks writes Voltron fanfic #void-tiger

[imagineclaireandjamie]

i hear the river say your name, part I

anonymous prompt: I just want a new smutty Jamie POV of him having a dirty dream about Claire before they married. It can take place at Leoch, maybe after his oath or something. Have his interactions with her the next day be super awkward, but charming. 😆 I live for this.

I am living for this prompt, anon. I like smitten puppy!Jamie.

show!verse, Episode 01x04 (The Gathering), 01x05 (Rent)

At least one more installment is yet to come of this one.

Rated: T, this part

Soundtrack: ➥ Lord Huron - When the Night is Over

i hear the river say your name, part I

Jamie Fraser has been in hiding for awhile.

Away from his family – though he supposes the only Fraser he has left is Jenny. And the Lord knows he can’t ever face her again. He’s been away from home for awhile now – first to France, then to Castle Leoch. How long it’s been, he’s not sure. Though they don’t comprise the most upstanding cast of characters, Colum and Dougal could be worse, and the machinations of life at Leoch are, to say the very least, interesting:

One, a boy who calls Letitia “mam” and calls Colum “da,” but looks like Dougal, provides a source of suspense he hasn’t known since he saw King Lear acted on stage as a lad by a traveling theatre troupe.

Two, the obvious pandering of Dougal to Arthur Duncan’s witchy blonde wife, made him laugh into a mug of ale two nights earlier. Geillis Duncan’s figure is decidedly less and less waif like with each passing week, and her bones are so obviously shifting to accommodate Dougal’s bairn that Jamie wonders if he’s the only one with eyes, ears, and common sense.

These observations aside, though, Jamie’s heart is not split.

He does not share love for Castle Leoch with his home.

For now at least, his heart lives in one place alone.

Lallybroch.

A place he hardly lets into his subconscious for the ache the distance causes him.

But now he’s hiding again – hiding within his hiding place.

The Gathering thrums along at some distance, the smell of roasting meat making his stomach ache with hunger and his mouth water, and causing the prospect of her (in some borrowed gown with her bonnie pearlescent breasts hitched up to kingdom come) to flit stomp carelessly through his mind while engaged in other more survival-oriented pursuits.

Mistress Beauchamp.

He’s in a pile of straw and probably smells of horses.

Of course that’s when he thinks of her.

He’s half asleep and half hard at the thought of her – changing his bandages with too-soft hands and nail beds as pink as petals, asking him about his back without pity, looking at him like maybe-just-maybe her lips would part and she would arch into him if he kissed her.

The sounds of the Gathering have blended and merged with the assistance of a few drams, his subconscious is urging him to just stay put. He decides not to do anything about his cockstand, figures that it’s easier if he just lets it ache and ache until he falls asleep, waking with the Sassenach far from his mind.

And that’s when the mysterious healer who has driven him absolutely mad with wanting trips over him.

Literally trips.

Of course, he doesn’t know it’s her right away – the source of that uncomfortable swelling tenting his kilt, the ringleader in his mind’s afternoon distractions. It is his protective instinct to draw his blade, to rise up over the unsuspecting, fallen target, adrenaline making his fighting spirit soar, and suddenly he’s invincible. It isn’t until the interloper makes some exclamation (“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”) that he realizes it’s her that is about to be speared by the sharp tip of his dirk.

He can’t help his smile (“no, Sassenach, just me” – though she makes him feel like God himself).

She looks so damned pretty in the dress Mrs. Fitz has found for her.

Her cheeks pink, her mouth letting out little frustrated pants, her breasts heaving as her own adrenaline surge blows her pupils to kingdom come.

Aye, she’s a pretty lass all dressed for the MacKenzie Gathering.

Even if she is about to flee.

Oh, he realizes, the Sassenach’s going to flee.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, to adopt her turn of phrase.

As a prisoner in his own identity and living under an assumed name, he can’t say he hasn’t thought of fleeing himself once or twice. By the venom in her eyes alone, he knows she’s a scrapper alright. He is holding his dirk steady still, still poised to strike.

And as the adrenaline fades, he shakes his head, smirks. He sheathes his dirk, gets to his feet, and helps her do the same. He teases her a little – her satchel of apples and already-hardened bread – his condensation-laden breath coming in pants.

“How far do ye think ye’d get, lass, on a dark night wi’ a strange horse, and half the MacKenzie clan after ye by morning?” he asks, not expecting an answer.

She’s thought it through – the logical wee thing she is. Where she will go, how she will get there. He was walking and found a scrap of cloth, and he suddenly realizes her game. She’s planned.

Ban-druidh, he wonders, the superstitious Highlander that lives in his gut teases for a moment before he consciously, decisively shuts down the notion. No. Not a witch. She is a woman. A smart, cunning woman, ready to survive.

And a dhia, she looks positively enraged that he has foiled her plan to flee.

Later, as he is waltzing through a conciliatory speech without swearing an oath to Colum MacKenzie, he wonders about her.

He wonders if she’s watching.

***

Claire had left Leoch with them, getting further and further from the echoing stone chamber she called a “clinic” one evening as she checked his wound one last time. They have been sent away by the MacKenzie to collect rent. He can’t help but think that her scheme to flee is somehow both more within reach and further away from ever now that they’re on the road.

He watches her – she’s standing at the edge of a loch, separate from everyone, her thin arms crossed over her waist. While Geillis is growing with Dougal’s bairn, Claire is shrinking with Dougal’s oppression.

Before the rent collectors departed Castle Leoch, Dougal had boasted about how he told that Sassenach bitch, that redcoat spy, a feral cat was coming along. Dougal gave the old lawyer a look, and explained that no, he didn’t tell Claire Beauchamp anything, lads. Dougal finished a tankard of ale, wiped the foam from his beard on his sleeve, boasted that he commanded her to come along. Claimed that he’d have her English thighs spread and his cock roosting before they returned with a handsome tithing from the MacKenzie lands. Jamie had risen to his feet, fists pulsing at his side, aching to splinter bone and make his uncle’s nose collapse with a nasty, crunching sound.

Oh.

For more than a moment Jamie entertained punching Dougal – making his adulterous uncle spray blood and spittle spectacularly across the walls of the hall where they were eating a final meal before departing, watching his mother’s brother drop like a stone, where a boot could easily make home in the softening gut of his aging uncle and close in on a throat.

Then Jamie had realized that such violence was no way to protect her.

To protect Claire.

To protect my own, his heart hammering at his own reference to her.

Jamie paused his shaking fists, shook his head, decided to take Dougal’s challenging look on the chin, to let the man think that he’d bested his stupid nephew. Jamie knew better.

“Do ye see that lads? Jamie fancies the traitor bitch.” Jamie sat, clasping his hands beneath the table not in prayer, but in an attempt to keep the violent fantasy from becoming a reality. He stayed silent. “That’s what I thought. Sit, pheathar. Ye stinking jealous fool. Ye’ll find somewhere for yer cock to roost for yerself.”

Now, out here on the road, they are at a quiet gathering. Not the kind that they’ve just left. Not one to swear fealty to a laird, unless of course one is to consider the pillaging of each resident of their entire livelihood and savings.

Dougal chants it first: “Bragh Stuart!”

Jamie’s eyes catch Claire’s as he fights to pull his shirt on over his head.

There is no mystery left in what is happening. She is a smart woman, the realization crosses her face slowly, like she can’t quite believe it at first. That they’re betraying Colum MacKenzie, that the gold they’re collecting will fund rebellion, that they’re engaged in something traitorous against their Laird and the crown. She steps out of the too-warm, too-smoky shed, hair falling across her cheek and her small fist knotted in the cloak around her shoulders.

Jamie wonders what she’s thinking.

If she would just face him, he could tell, but she doesn’t turn around.

#i hear the river say your name #part i #;mod kate #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #featuring: dougal #featuring: the jacobite cause #episode 01x04 #episode 01x05 #show!verse

[obeyme-and-you]

MC the Lamb Part 3

MC’s relationship with the rest of the brothers, minus Belphegor 

Spoilers for chapter 16

Lowkey surprised that’s all I managed to spoil

Gabriel is Italics

Kimimela is Bold

MC’s Disciples

(The information used to explain the disciples was taken from this website https://www.britannica.com/topic/Apostle)

(Some of these Disciples don’t have much information about them or at all in some cases but they will be briefly mentioned for comparison sake still)

Fyi, even though 90% of the disciples are martyrs, and I do make jokes about them dying, I do not believe everyone is just gonna die, and I do believe that any character that may die, will come back.

James and Mammon

James- he was a member of the inner circle, “son of thunder”, witnessed Jesus’s agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, him and John asked to sit by him, on his left and right side, in his future glory, one Jesus said wasn’t something he could grant, James was later beheaded

Mammon- He is definitely apart of MC’s inner circle when it comes to the brothers. He was the first one to make a pact with MC, and is constantly bringing up the fact that he’s “MC’s first” because of it. He’s, at least in game canon, probably considered the closest in relationship to MC compared to the others. Not to mention the fact that he’s always around MC when he has the chance and often helps MC and also strings them along in his antics.

James and Mammon comparison 

One of two “sons of thunder” does suit him because of the fact he’s very quick to defend MC and also willing to fight someone if they insult MC lol. The “sons of thunder” were known for being very direct, and very much known for not backing down from a confrontation. 

The Garden of Gethsemane is pretty significant in the story of Jesus; that’s where Jesus started to stress out to the point of sweating blood, because he knew what was about to happen to him, and then was betrayed in that garden, which would result in his death. Mammon has been present multiple times for MC’s suffering. He was there when Lucifer tried to kill MC after they protected Beelzebub and Luke, he was there when Leviathan tried to kill MC, he was there when Beelzebub destroyed the kitchen and MC’s room, he was there when MC was trying to help Lucifer and Satan when they switched bodies. But, probably the most significant thing he was there for when seeing MC suffer, would be when he held MC in his arms when they died. 

In terms of being essentially MC’s right hand, it’s very obvious he wishes for MC to rely on him. He wants MC to need him and count on him when they need it most.

One more important detail to mention, is that James was the first disciple to be martyred! So have fun with that little detail! (I’m gonna straight up cry if Mammon dies, but that’s a theory for a different essay oop)

John and Asmodeus

John- a member of the inner circle, “son of thunder”, him and James wanted to call down fire from the heavens to punish Samaritan towns who didn’t accept Jesus, most of his information is legends. Was also known as the disciple of love.

Asmodeus- this is probably the one I’m most willing to argue for and against, just because I would argue in favor of a couple of the other brothers being a part of the inner circle instead, but I’m not completely against it being him. The reason why, is because he really did change after making a pact in terms ongoing from “I don’t care about you” to “give me all the attention and also I love you”, granted, you could argue this with all the boys, but he is pretty desperate in being close to MC even compared to some of the others. He also does put quite a bit of work trying to be close in my opinion at least.

Asmodeus does kinda go for the confrontation aspects too. Asmodeus did fight with Mammon at Diavolo’s castle right after making a pact with MC, and got into a bad argument with Satan at Diavolo’s castle during the play rehearsals. He’s kinda a drama queen if we’re being honest. Not to mention, he would definitely suggest to rain fire down on people who didn’t like MC real quick. 

( I mean, you’re not wrong)

Most of his information being legends ends up being correct too considering he isn’t mentioned in the Christian bible anywhere.

For the last point, love and lust are two sides of the same coin.

Phillip and Satan

Phillip- brought word that certain Greeks wanted to see Jesus, asked Jesus to reveal God, according to one tradition he died of natural causes, but in another he died on a cross.

Satan- There isn’t much detail about Phillip within the Bible, but one of the “significant” things about him was that some Greeks asked Phillip to see Jesus. The only real dots that can be connected to Phillip and Obey Me Satan, with this fact is that Satan does know a lot of people in high places, so it’s possible that others would go to him if they wanted to meet MC. (This is mentioned in the Devilgram “Why Do People Love Cats?”) This isn’t a really strong detail, but still worth mentioning. 

The other significant detail is Phillip asking Jesus to reveal God and Jesus responds that by seeing him, he has seen the face of God. Satan hasn’t really had a moment where he’s asked MC to either “reveal God” or even “reveal Lilith” at this point within the game, but it’s possible it may or may not happen. 

Bartholomew and Beelzebub

Bartholomew- not much is known about him, may have been Nathaniel, possibly martyred by flaying and beheading. Associated with miracles related to the weight of objects. (There was a statue in a temple named after him that the townspeople would carry and for some reason the statue became too heavy to carry. A wall ended up crashing down where they were headed, and if they were still able to carry the statue, they would’ve all been killed. http://saintbartholomew.blogspot.com/ )

Beelzebub- There really isn’t much to draw a comparison between the two. If he does some demon miracle that involves weights later than there you go. Also if he gets martyred too I guess. (Beel is the Largest one of the bunch if that counts)

Mathew and Leviathan

Mathew- also known as Levi, was a tax collector and because of this considered untrusting, because of this when Jesus ate with him Jesus was scoffed at for sitting with tax collectors and sinners, doesn’t know if he died naturally or was a martyr 

Note: Tax collectors were seen as sinful because of their association with money and taking it from the people.

Leviathan- also known as Levi, his brothers give him a lot of grief for being a shut in who only sits in his room playing games and watching anime. They constantly give him trouble and make fun of him for this and go far enough to make remarks about MC hanging around him. They say he’s untrustworthy and unreliable because he’s just some shut in. 

I honestly cannot believe that they really had to do the whole Levi thing, shit like this makes me question what is coincidence and what is research

PREVIOUS: MC The Lamb Part 2 / NEXT: MC The Lamb Part 4

#obey me! #OBEY ME #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #Obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me! mammon #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! satan #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! leviathan #obey me swd mc #obey me mc #obey me theories #obey me theory #swd obey me #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me spoilers #obey me chapter 16 #obey me chapter 16 spoilers #christianity tw #christianity cw

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @ccboomer, @aubsenroute, @somebodyswatson

Chapter Twenty Lord Voldemort’s Request

Dear Remus,

Happy Birthday! I don’t know when you’ll get this, or where you’ll get this, since you’re traveling so much. I’m sure you heard from Mum and Dad about my Quidditch game. Madam Pomfrey just let me out of the hospital wing this morning. I’m not sure if I’m angrier that we lost the game or that McLaggen nearly broke my skull open. Either way, both are McLaggen’s fault.

If you’re worried I’ll do something reckless, don’t be. Ginny and the team already took care of it. They got together while Ron and I were still in the hospital wing and they really did a number on him. Demelza slipped a rat into his robes at dinner. I don’t know where she got one, but I heard he screamed and lost his head in front of the entire school. Then Dean and Ginny caught him with a Bat-Bogey Hex each just before he got to Gryffindor Tower.

Finally, Peakes and Coote put dungbombs in his bed. They cleared it with his roommates first, and made sure that they all had friends in different years to stay with, so McLaggen was stuck there for the night alone with the smell.

I’m only sad Ron and I weren’t around to see all of it. But we’re better now. Madam Pomfrey let Ron out today, too, so we are back in classes. My head still aches a bit, though, so maybe I ought to skip Defense tomorrow?

Anyway, just wanted to say happy birthday, and that I’m thinking of you, and I hope everything is still okay between you and Sirius, and maybe you’re talking to Tonks again?

Love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

Cedric —

I had my next (and possibly my last, for a while anyway) meeting with Dumbledore last night. I would have written to you right away, but I’d just gotten out of the hospital after a Quidditch accident. I’m alright, but it was a nasty hit with a Beater’s bat, thanks to an idiot of a Keeper.

Dumbledore wasn’t happy I hadn’t gotten the memory from Slughorn yet. I’ve been trying, but Slughorn doesn’t trust me since I’ve tried once already. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. And Dumbledore says we can’t meet again until I have that memory, but I haven’t any idea where to start. How do you get a memory out of someone who is so ashamed of what he’s done, he’s intentionally changed his memory of how it happened to spare himself?

I don’t expect you to have any answers to it. I know you’ve never met Professor Slughorn. Even Hermione doesn’t have any real ideas, and she knows him better than I do. She just keeps insisting that I’ll have to persuade him or appeal to his better nature, but he won’t even talk to me. I’m not sure what to try next.

Anyway, last night Dumbledore showed me the final two memories that he thinks are important to defeating Voldemort. He said we were moving on from Voldemort’s time at school and into his life after leaving Hogwarts. He also said it was hard enough to know what Voldemort was up to at school, and it was even harder to know afterwards, so he was making a lot of guesswork, but it all seemed straight-forward to me.

Voldemort turned down a lot of opportunities to connect with Ministry officials and ended up at Borgin and Burkes, but Dumbledore said what he really wanted was a job at Hogwarts. I couldn’t think why Voldemort would want to be a professor, but Dumbledore thinks he would have liked to explore the castle further, and maybe even influence the students. He also said it was the only place Voldemort had ever felt at home. I thought that was odd, to think of school as a home. I get not wanting to leave Hogwarts — that was quite the fight with Mum and Dad last year — but I can’t imagine wanting to stay here forever.

Anyway, he didn’t get the teaching position. The Headmaster at the time advised him to get experience first, and apply again later. So he ended up at Borgin and Burkes convincing people to part with their ancient and powerful valuables. In the memory, he was talking to this woman named Hepzibah Smith, and she had all sorts of valuable items. The two that were most interesting to Voldemort, though, were the locket of Salazar Slytherin and the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Ms Smith had apparently bought the locket from Burke after Burke had bought it off of Merope Gaunt. Voldemort wanted them both so badly, it was obvious. I thought he might take the locket right there, but he didn’t. Dumbledore said, though, that Hepizibah Smith died two days later. I’m sure you’re already thinking about looking up the record of that event, so I’ll spare you the trouble. Ms Smith’s house-elf took the blame for her death. The Ministry decided she was old and confused, and the sugar she put in her mistress’s cocoa wasn’t sugar at all but a lethal poison. The family didn’t notice the cup and the locket were gone for a while, since it took them so long to sort through all of Ms Smith’s collection. By then, Voldemort had completely vanished.

I get why he wanted the locket — he clearly knew that it had belonged to his mother and was part of his magical family heritage — but I don’t understand the cup. Dumbledore thinks it was because it was something connected to Hogwarts. He said it was also about something else, but he wouldn’t tell me anymore. He wanted to show me his own memory, of when Voldemort resurfaced, ten years after Hepizibah Smith’s murder. It was his memory of when Voldemort showed up at Hogwarts to interview for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

It was strange to see him in that memory. He didn’t look like what we saw in the graveyard — not those awful red snake eyes, nor the shapeless face — but he was still horridly strange. He was sort of wax-like, and definitely as pale as he is now. He didn’t look anything like the Tom Riddle I’d gotten used to looking at in Dumbledore’s memory. He was well and truly Voldemort by then.

It was strange to watch him talk with Dumbledore. It seemed clear from the moment he walked in that Dumbledore had no interest in giving the position to Voldemort. And I remembered something Tom Riddle’s diary had told me — that Dumbledore had kept an “annoyingly close watch on him” after Moaning Myrtle had died, so I don’t think that Voldemort had any real expectation that Dumbledore would give him the job. And they didn’t say anything important to each other, really. They had a brief argument about magical studies, where Dumbledore said he believed that love was the greatest form of magic, and Voldemort disagreed, but suggested he be allowed to pursue his studies into powerful magic while teaching at Hogwarts. And Voldemort really wasn’t happy when Dumbledore brought up the Death Eaters who had traveled with him and were waiting for him at the Hog’s Head, but as soon as Dumbledore asked why Voldemort was really there, because it wasn’t for an interview, Voldemort just left.

When I asked Dumbledore what he thought, he said he had ideas but he wasn’t going to tell them to me until I get that memory from Slughorn. He did say though that the teaching position was definitely important to Voldemort, because it’s been cursed ever since that interview.

I thought that maybe by the time I got to the end of this letter, I’d have a better idea of how to tackle the Slughorn problem, but I still haven’t a clue.

While I wait for inspiration to strike, I’ve been following Draco Malfoy around. I know you said that you don’t think he could be hiding anything, but I overheard Snape talking to Malfoy just before Christmas. Snape knew he was up to something and was trying to get it out of him. And Ginny overheard Regulus and Snape discussing it about a week ago. All Regulus knew was that Draco was sneaking off to the seventh floor, and he was giving his mates Polyjuice Potion. I can’t figure out why.

I’ve got Potions again tomorrow afternoon so I guess I’ll, I don’t know, just try and talk to Slughorn alone at the very least, but I expect he’ll dodge me as he always does.

Hope your work is going better, though I don’t expect there to be much good news, or I’d have seen it plastered on the front page of the Prophet.

— Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

Dear Harry,

I can’t believe you waited even a day to tell me all of that! I read your letter over breakfast this morning and am hurrying to reply before I have to meet Williamson at Gringotts. Everything Dumbledore has shown you now makes perfect sense, even with what we barely know of Slughorn’s memory!

Remember a few months ago, when you mentioned that Dumbledore said it was important that Tom Riddle was a collector? He takes trophies, things that have value to him, including the locket and cup you described. You also mentioned in your latest letter that he thinks of Hogwarts as a home, and that Hogwarts is somewhere he has been desperate to explore more deeply.

Harry, isn’t it obvious? One of the objects in the memory is a Horcrux! It must be! And Voldemort must have hidden it at Hogwarts. Why else would he have returned that night if he was so certain Dumbledore would not give him the teaching post? Why return with a guard of Death Eaters unless he was carrying something valuable?

Harry, that memory from Slughorn could not possibly be more important. I’m certain that it will help you identify exactly which item Voldemort has made into a Horcrux, and perhaps even where it was hidden. If we can identify and destroy his Horcrux, we can destroy Voldemort. I’m sorry I can’t help you cajole Slughorn into divulging that memory, because I would do anything I could if it meant getting that information.

You realise that whatever it is Draco Malfoy is up to is meaningless if we can stop Voldemort?

Though, Harry, I have to tell you, I’m surprised you haven’t worked that one out, either. I think it’s obvious why Snape and Regulus Black haven’t figured it out, but you and I know very well what’s hidden away on the seventh floor, near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, and Malfoy knows about it too, thanks to Marietta Edgecombe. I can’t say I’ve got any answers about the Polyjuice Potion, though.

I hope some of my insights sound like good news to you. I don’t think I have anything that’s close to good news, other than what I’ve already said. There are the usual disappearances. And Mundungus got arrested this week. Deserved it, too. He was impersonating an Inferius.

To top it off, the Ministry brought in a kid the other day for attempting to murder his grandparents. Most likely the Imperius Curse. I still remember on my first day in the Ministry, I asked Christian if he thought giant attack on the West Country was worse than Death Eaters Imperiusing members of the Muggle government. We disagreed on which was worse, but regardless, it seems like the Death Eaters find new ways to horrify me every day.

We have to stop Voldemort, and quickly. The sooner you get that memory from Slughorn, the sooner we can end this war.

I’ve got to dash off to Gringotts and go over security measures there. Hopefully Williamson won’t scold me if I’m a few minutes late for swinging by the owl post first.

Best of luck,

Cedric

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

Dear Harry,

It was lovely to hear from you on my birthday. I’m sorry it took me so long to reply to you. Regulus was kind enough to gift me a set of quills for Christmas, but I’m afraid parchment is harder to come by.

I just spent a full thirty minutes at your parents’ kitchen table listening to James dramatically recount your Quidditch match, and I’m terribly sorry about your loss. If McLaggen is even half as bad as James described, I can’t imagine he’ll be on your team for much longer. Though, from what I recall of McLaggen, I think he probably deserved your Quidditch team’s revenge. I’m surprised a girl hasn’t given him a Bat-Bogey Hex sooner.

I’m glad to hear that you and Ron are doing better. What happened to Ron is terrifying. I hope the culprit is caught soon, and whatever it was they were trying to do is thwarted. I’m sure you have your own theories on what happened to Ron, but I would trust that Dumbledore is doing everything he can to make certain that Hogwarts is safe.

I have not heard anything from Tonks, but Sirius and I have made up after our fight — though we have both agreed to give each other some space for now. We haven’t been apart for any length of time in over twenty-five years, except for this summer when we parted on less-than-pleasant terms. It’s been interesting to have this space between us since Christmas. We still see each other regularly, of course, but… well, it’s different is all. It’s not a bad different, but it’s different.

I apologise. I’m not making a lot of sense. I do hope your head feels better by now. Lingering headaches are quite a pain. (Does the pun work as well if I’m not there to see you roll your eyes?)

Thank you again for thinking of me, even when you had a lot going on yourself. It means a great deal to me. I can’t quite put it into words. Thank you, Harry.

Love, Remus

#Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince #harry potter #cedric diggory #remus lupin #hp everyone lives #hp #hp fic #hbp

[somefinelipstickonthatpig]

“The Wind Beneath His Wings,” A Tales of Vesperia fan fic

Flynn never really meant to tell Lady Estellise everything that he did. Hopefully, Yuri forgives him.

Set before the events of the game. Yuri/Flynn, Flynn & Estelle.

[Please leave a comment on AO3 or a review on fanfic dot net! ♥]

-

Flynn does not think of himself as secretive. He keeps his private life to himself, but just because he is not baring his heart to the world does not mean he is hiding it. Even still, he is surprised when Her Highness hooks into the little bit he lets slip.

They are on the balcony of her sitting room when he says it. His shift is technically over, but ever since meeting the young lady, he has found himself drawn to her. She is honest and true, and in that way she reminds him of a certain someone. So perhaps that is why he lets his guard down, as they are overlooking Zaphias, and he says:

“Yuri would hate this view.”

Yuri would be disgusted with it. Yuri would look out and only see the vast amount of wealth that the royal family hoards, would see it as symptomatic of a broken system. Yuri would be right, of course, but there is something more here. Yuri would overlook the way the rays of the sun hit the buildings just right at sunset, a celebration of nature’s beauty and mankind’s innovation. The way this view allows Lady Estellise to watch her people from afar.

Perhaps it is cruel to think that, given that Lady Estellise is not ever permitted to leave the castle. This is the only way she can watch them. She isn’t even given the opportunity to hold audience; that responsibility falls to Prince Ioder, but Flynn can’t help but think that the Princess would benefit from that far more.

It isn’t his place to speak such thoughts.

“Why?” Lady Estellise breaks him from his trance, and he blinks as he turns to face her. Her eyes are curious, inquisitive. She learned that from books, he thinks, but books can never answer her directly. She’s had to find the answer in further pages or in other books.

“Uh…” Flynn scratches his cheek and wonders how to explain Yuri’s point of view to someone he would probably hate. No, Yuri would only hate her position; if Yuri took the time to get to know Estellise, to know how kind and considerate and sincere, then he would probably be willing to lay his life on the line for her.

Knowing Yuri.

“He’s just a very pessimistic person, that’s all,” Flynn says, and hopes it’s enough to satisfy her.

It isn’t.

“So, who is he?” Lady Estellise demands, her gaze turning sharp and determined, her tone almost an accusation. Flynn nearly jumps out of his skin as he turns to look at the princess, realizing in that moment that he’s said too much, but he refuses to admit anything.

“Who is… who, my lady?” he asks, feigning ignorance. Clearly he does not feign it well enough, because Lady Estellise’s brows furrow. She looks betrayed, as if this lie truly hurts her, and guilt swoops in his gut.

“Yuri,” she replies. “You just said the name, Flynn. You can’t get out of this that easily.”

He lets out a sigh. Anyone else might have let it go, sensed that Flynn doesn’t wish to discuss it. But once Lady Estellise has her curiosity hooked, she doesn’t let go, ever. “Just… an old friend,” he hedges. Her eyes narrow at him. Oh, she can definitely tell he’s trying to slide out of this. “I don’t know how much he would be comfortable with me telling you. I grew up with him in the lower quarter.”

“Really?” There is something pleased in the Princess’s voice, her fingers curling around the railing on the balcony. Something almost mischievous. “You two grew up together? This pessimistic person of yours?”

Of mine? Flynn wonders, and immediately regrets it, because he feels the heat rise to his cheeks as soon as he does. “U-uh, my lady,” he begins, unsure of his footing. Yuri has certainly never been his. Though Flynn can’t help but think nothing would have changed if he had. “Yes. We… we did. We joined the Knights together, as well, but he has become disillusioned with the Empire.”

And that was putting it mildly. He sighs again. “We have always been very different, he and I. Never quite seen eye to eye. But… despite that, I think of him often.”

Not even Yuri knows just how often. Flynn has written letters and scrapped them more times than he can count. He’s up for promotion soon — it’s almost guaranteed that he will make Lieutenant within a few months — and at that point, he knows he won’t have time to write any letters at all.

Not that it matters much. Yuri almost never replies, unless it’s to scold Flynn (You don’t have to inform me of every sin you’ve committed or every time you’ve sold your soul to the Empire. We both know what you signed up for.) or to mock him (What, is the great Flynn Scifo, son of Finath, giving up so easily? You haven’t even changed anything yet).

Why does he keep writing him? Why does he keep trying? He doesn’t know.

The best letters he gets from Yuri are unprompted ones. Ones that tell him Yuri will be visiting, and at what time, and Flynn had better be there. Or else.

“In what ways?” Lady Estellise prods, and Flynn knows exactly what she’s getting at. He knows exactly what she’s asking for: she’s asking for all the details about Yuri that Flynn would be willing to give her.

And, rather without his consent, he gives everything to her.

He talks about how Yuri’s cynicism has always been in direct contrast with Flynn’s optimistic beliefs that the Empire must be changed from within. How it irritates Flynn and how he craves it at the same time. He and Yuri might have fundamental disagreements about what constitutes a moral action, which is most evident in how frequently Yuri is hauled to jail for obstructing tax collectors, but Flynn knows it is so easy to slip down the wrong path. He has seen plenty of his superiors do it before, believing their actions were righteous but were too willing to turn a blind eye to people in need. Yuri forces Flynn to see what he didn’t want to, and Flynn needs that, needs to see what’s broken so that he can find some way to fix it. Needs to stay grounded in the reality of why he became a Knight in the first place.

He talks about Yuri’s reckless tendency to jump in to help others. Yuri is sharp and intelligent, which probably feeds this urge of his, because if Yuri even gets a hint that someone is in need, he can’t keep his nose out of their business. Like he’s using his shrewdness for evil do-gooding, he says with a laugh, and he’s glad that Lady Estellise finds that equally hilarious. He tells her one anecdote about how, as teenagers, Yuri was prepared to tie Flynn to his bed when he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

They used to share everything from clothes to food to school supplies. After Flynn’s father died, they shared the room at the inn.

Flynn doesn’t tell Lady Estellise this part, but his mother struggled financially even with the stipend that the Empire gave her after her husband passed, and Flynn didn’t want to burden her. Sometimes he regrets moving out without asking her permission, but he remembers the look on her face as he gathered his things, saw the conflicted mess of emotions on her face, and knew he was bringing her some small relief. She wouldn’t have admitted it then, but after Flynn made it into the Knights, she wrote a letter to him, thanking him for his sacrifice.

Flynn’s never been sure about how he felt about that.

“You sound very close,” Lady Estellise says when he is done. Well, not done; he doesn’t know if he’d ever be truly done talking about Yuri. Yuri is constant. But night has fallen, the moon making its way high into the sky, and Flynn knows he should head back to the barracks and allow the Princess her rest.

“We are,” Flynn replies. Even when they have periods of time where they haven’t seen each other, the bond they have never falters or wanes. “I admire him a great deal. Just don’t tell him I said that. He has a big enough head as it is.”

Lady Estellise giggles, a pure sound, clear like a bell. “I don’t know if I’ll ever meet him,” she says, and then, before they can linger on the fact she is caged here like a bird, she continues: “Besides. You should tell him that yourself.”

Flynn pictures it, pictures the moment with perfect clarity. Yuri has snuck into his room again, without being spotted by a single guard, which is the most ridiculous thing in the world because he isn’t banned from visiting, but he sure can get in trouble for trespassing. But Yuri laughs, waves off the concern like he always does. Says something that plays into his bravado, about how he isn’t afraid of the guards or of jail. And they sit on Flynn’s bed, and Yuri recounts a tale of how he singlehandedly defeated a tax collector by tripping them into the river and didn’t get caught doing it, or something equally foolish and equally moral, and then Flynn’s heart gets stuck fluttering in his throat, his chest fills with something warm and wholesome, and he takes Yuri’s hand. Yuri’s startled, because they haven’t held hands since they were children. And he says those words.

And Flynn turns bright red.

“Mm-hmm,” Lady Estellise says, sounding all too satisfied and all too amused, and she pats Flynn’s shoulder. “One day, Flynn. I don’t know how a man like that couldn’t feel the same way for you.”

Flynn laughs, softly. “You don’t know Yuri,” he murmurs, almost exasperated. But at the same time, he clings to that little hope, the wind beneath his wings.

One day.

#hey i'm not dead. i rise from the writing grave like mushu #fluri #tov #vesperia #flynn scifo #yuri lowell #estellise sidos heurassein #mod eli #(do links even work in tags? idk. hopefully it shows up.)

[abalonetea]

could you do 76 for all of your kids from Groundhog Day? please?

this question hurt me so much to write and i’m so sorry, it went on so long and just??? yeah

i feel the overwhelming urge to apologize for everything that takes place below.

it was so much fun

76. Describe their own personal Hell, and then their personal Heaven. Give us reasons for why they are the way they are.

the kids of Groundhog Day

Aba: let’s get him out of the way first, eh? mainly because. he hurts. not the most, but a lot. and i’ve actually already written notes for both of these questions in the main story file!   the simple answer is this. he’s already living his own personal Hell.    his body is changed, gone. his magic, different. people don’t remember him. his mother doesn’t remember him. the Queen - the Queen does, and Blue does, but they’re awful, wretched, horrible. and Kee! she remembers! she remembers everything but -    but the simple fact is this. Aba lives in his own personal Hell. he has latched onto the idea that his sister, Kee, will save him. that if he can just help her win, things can go back to the way they used to be! he has grabbed onto ignorance and used it to blind himself; refusing to accept that the Kee he once knew is no more. or maybe, even, that the Kee he knows never existed.   when the First Glitch struck, it started a cycle. the loop of Groundhog Day, come into reality. every time Aba dies, it restarts. right back at that first moment where he wakes up. over. and over. and over.   his worst Hell is right here, in front of him, around him, endless glitches upon glitches that have fractured his coding and left him broken. stripped from him a reality that he once lived in, stripped from him sanity, left him believing there is nothing else.    his worst Hell is Blue stopping Kee over, and over, and over again. it is resetting. it is glitching. it is coding dripping from his teeth the flower festival is tomorrow did you know the flower festival is tomorrow and Midnight is queen and there’s a witch in the woods be careful i hear she kills children but -    the only one who’s ever killed a child is Aba.   and it is Hell.

   his heaven.    Aba’s heaven is complicated. bisected down the middle, into what he thinks and what he knows. because a glitched mind can only bring up pieces of what it believes to be truth. and when his mind is broken, fractured, trapped behind black black black boxes - when Aba knows nothing but aching loneliness and anger that consumes everything - his Heaven is being normal.   sitting in the Fields of Fara with Kee. they are coloring. or maybe not. they’re older now. maybe they’re just sitting there. the sky is blue. there are no screens on Aba’s face, no coding on his back.   Kee does not carry a knife, or a sword. her fingers are not stained with blood. their mother, the rightful Queen, sings as she picks feather-berries and tries to teach them the tune.   but - that Heaven is a remnant. it’s a stagnant, broken thing. like when you are at your worst, and you long to be a kid again, but that wouldn’t solve anything, would it? instead, there is Heaven in Red, who treats Aba like a person, who knows the sins scrawling on his skin and accepts it, without hesitation.    Aba’s Heaven comes in the form of two characters from another game. it is acceptance. it is his own magic back, his own body. it is the adulthood that he was stripped of, not the childhood he could never have. the purr in his throat turns over like a rusted motor starting back up after sitting too long in the rain and he knows, knows with a certainty that goes deeper than code, that these two men will do anything for him, and that he will do anything for them.   his Heaven comes in the form of scars just as vibrant and awful as his own; comes in the form of another character with a high Level. it is sitting in the snow while Red drinks and Bolte smokes and Aba cracks an awful, bad joke because he remembers his old name now, but he has not been that person for so long, can never be that person again.   it starts to get cold. Bolte gets up. Red gets up too. they each grab one of Aba’s hands, larger now, more furred, and haul him to his feet.    then they go home.   together.

Captain : let’s go ahead and state right now that this? this world? the riots, the starving children, the food shortages? they are not her Hell. the missing eye, the ruined ear fin? the mutilated scales and skin and scars? they are not her Hell.    Captain’s personal Hell is very simple. she is standing in the middle of the Queen’s chambers. Midnight wears pink and gauze and ribbons. she smiles like honey. she tilts her head to the side and says, “you lose.”   and it’s true.   her personal Hell is starting. it is the Royal Guards decreasing in number every day, it is the way that the dogs pull closer together, pull further from her. the hawk dragon that comes to visit her porch every morning watches her with knowing eyes and one day, one day, one day very soon there will not be enough food for his hunting and he will vanish and she will live alone.   her personal Hell is when Bolte vanishes. her only friend, her only confidante, the only character in all of Fara Falls that Captain would trust with her back, with her HEART. it is losing her Second In Command and then losing the outskirts of the Capitol and the Queen is watching her, always, don’t make a mistake, don’t slip up, don’t let her hear the way your heart beats out a staccato down with the queen down with the queen down with the queen every time you close your eye don’t close your eye there’s no one left to help you   don’t think about that   Captain has a very specific plan for her life. her personal Hell is knowing that she’s losing.

   and her Heaven? oh, her Heaven is unobtainable. it’s sanity gifted back to Ana, it’s life brought back to the swamp. they sit at the base of an old cyprus tree, a lunch of dried meats and hard tack spread out between them, the promise of a honey cake waiting for desert.   it’s leaning against Ana’s shoulder, looking up into fractal eyes and knowing - yes, this is right, this is all that i’ve ever wanted and then some.    her Heaven is also very, very complicated. it is a new ruler in the throne room. it is Midnight dead by - anyone’s hands, they don’t even have to be hers. it is Bolte, safe, healthy, able to live. it is Frost, alive, standing in her living room, lips quirked in a shapeless smile.   but she will settle.   she will settle for a full belly. she will settle for strong, bitter tea. Captain doesn’t have time to wish and want for things that can never happen. the dead will stay dead. the lost will stay lost. the hurt will stay hurt.    so she will carve out a different Heaven instead, in the little moments of calm, where she closes her eye and drinks hot, hot tea. and she will carve out a different Heaven instead, where Bolte is safe even if he can never be whole, and there is no shadow of fear looming over their heads.    her Heaven is victory.   it’s down with the queen.

Bolte: he doesn’t let himself think about it. he doesn’t let himself think about a lot of things. like his Heaven, his Hell is wrapped up tight in Red’s magic. he can feel it stuttering out, one beat after the next, and he worries. but. but Red is strong. so. Bolte doesn’t think about that.   he doesn’t think, either, about how his personal Hell is not unavoidable. one day, someone is going to get in a hit that’s just lucky enough. the spine can only be healed so many times, you know. and some blows take out mana lines in ways that can’t be fixed - like Red’s.   his personal Hell is the day that he can’t get back up. and it will happen, if something doesn’t change. it’s the day that he can’t be in the Royal Guards any longer, and they lose what little protection they have. and suddenly, every enemy that’s Bolte made as a law enforcer - every debt collector that Red’s avoided - everyone looking for easy EXP because Red is so low leveled and Red has such weak magic - they will come knock knock knocking on the door.   so Bolte sleeps with one eye open. and he fights like a knife with no hilt. he’ll hold that personal Hell off for as long as he can. and when it finally shows up at their door, he’ll go down fighting like a rabid dragon.

   and his Heaven, his Heaven - oh, this broken, backwards boy. he does not know what his Heaven is. thankfully, for your reading pleasure, i do. Bolte has never known a good relationship. he’s never known a society where you could be affectionate with the one you love, even in privates. beware the butterflies, beware the Eyes of the Queen. don’t trust the characters peeking in through your windows in the dead of night.   but his Heaven is found in Fields of Fara, in the form of a soft bed, and a full belly. his heaven is very, very simple. it is coming downstairs to find that Red is already up. Red is sitting at the kitchen table in a borrowed-stolen sweatshirt that looks too bright compared to the dark hues he grew up hiding in. there is a cup of hot cocoa in his hands. his mask is nowhere to be seen.   Bolte puts a hand on Red’s shoulder, presses a kiss to curly hair - clean hair, freshly washed, still damp. he makes himself tea, no sugar, and sits down beside Red. he thinks boyfriend and his HEART burns with contented warmth. like a feral cat that has finally found a kind hand, he stretches, not wary but aware, and pulls Red into a one-armed hug.    it is good.

Red: hey buddy, ya wanna know a secret? Red ain’t planning on letting his personal Hell come true. the moment someone gets a lucky hit in on Bolte, that’s it. no reason to keep the reel turning if the main cast is gone, ya know? he figures he’ll make it real pretty, too. one jump into the castle. a knife straight through the Queen’s heart. or not. maybe just a jab or two at a guard.    luck’s never been on his side, ya know? but going out with a bang, man, ain’t that better than a world where the only person who you knew would never hurt ya is gone? ain’t that better than being trapped with no one to watch your back and a pretty red, heh, target on your face?   yeah. Red’s never been good at secrets either.

   wanna know a truth, instead? Red’s good at those. can see right through ya. here’s a truth for you - Aba butts his head hard against Red’s shoulder, petulantly demanding attention, affection, and pets. it’s funny.   Bolte wraps an arm around Red’s waist and pulls him into a stiff armed hug. everything that Bolte does is backward and awkward, but the Good Intent pours off of him like a balm, straight into Red’s HEART. it’s nice.   they share a bed. not all of them. well, not all the time. sometimes Aba squirms up between them because, ya know, guy doesn’t technically have a house and sleeping in the caves gets old. Red knows that from experience.   but so, they share a bed. the sheets are thick and warm. Bolte closes his eyes and breathes out, sleeps steady through the night. they don’t have to worry about breaking windows or the house catching flame. they can just sleep. that’s Heaven.

Blue: .man, you know what’s hard? taking a complicated character and breaking them down to one single base fear. you know what’s even harder? doing it to a scientist when you, uh, are not half that smart.  first instinct, surface level - Locke gets into the Royal Guards and ends up in a battle where the only option is WINNING and GAINING LEVELS.    that was it for a really long time. but then he learnt that Joseph was right, and there’s something living in the box. poison, yes, but very much alive. and it’s by order of the Queen that they rip the box back open in search of - what? coding secrets, she says, Joseph himself, she says.   but eventually, Blue’s smart enough to know that there’s another world inside of that box. and it’s his job, under Midnight’s command, to rip it open. a direct pathway. a Purposeful Glitch.    if he does, the whole damned world will go to Hell…and it’ll be his fault. if he doesn’t? well, he thinks Midnight’s not going to let that be an option.

   Heaven is simple.    Kee stays dead.   there are no more resets. he never has to watch Locke die again. or kill again. just. one more time. one last fight. Blue wins, and Kee stays dead.   anyone know if Heaven’s real?

Locke: a lot of people think Locke stupid. it’s because he’s so genuinely good natured, because he likes to look on the best side of things. but he’s not dumb. and contrary to popular belief, looking on the best side of things doesn’t mean you don’t pay attention to the bad things!   …there are a lot of bad things. Blue tries to pretend there aren’t, but Locke has always been able to see straight through that silly little mask of his. he can see straight through their Queen’s smile, too.    it’s why he wants to be a Royal Guard, you know! so he can protect his friends! so he can make sure that Flame never has to fight again! so he can promise Blue, with full certainty, that all the awful things he has nightmares about will never touch him again!    so Blue can stop lying.   Hell is never passing the exam. it sounds silly, saying it like that. Locke does it on purpose. let people think he’s silly. you never expect the deepest mana reserves in all the lands from the silly ones.    Hell is never making it into the Royal Guards. one day, Midnight will crook her pretty little finger, and Polynya and Blue and Flame and all the others will go to her, puppets pulled along on string, and she will make them do awful, horrible things. because she’s the Queen. and she says so, bang the gavel, her word is law.   Hell is having to stay behind and watch it happen.   Locke would kill before he let Hell become reality.

   Heaven sounds silly, too! it’s great, right? Locke is so good at this!!!! Heaven is being told the truth! all of it! sitting down at the table and Blue takes off his mask and instead of trading pretty little white lies over a game of cards, Blue tells Locke why the rouge feels like death even when she’s kind, what he dreams about during his screaming fits, and Midnight’s real honest plans.   and then Locke will be able to lean forward and spill his own lies, tell Blue, i already knew all of those things but you didn’t want me to know so i pretended, for you, all this time, did it help like i thought it did, you not having to worry?   the pressure will release his HEART like a bird dragon losing grip on a rabbit, and Blue will lean forward, knock their foreheads together, and say, no more secrets.    he will mean him.   let the truth become Heaven. 

Polynya: her Hell chases her down every night in the form of memories. you do not become a war hero without doing awful, dreadful things and she might be lauded as a savior of the children, but she did things no children will ever hear of.   it howls at her in the late evening hours, only the glow of her aquarium to keep her company; her girlfriend miles away and getting harder to reach. before, the old Queen, she swore that there would never again be war. but she is little more than a hermit now, a lost witch, and it is Midnight who’s eyes sparkle with a kindness that cannot be real.   there is a gilded trident hanging above Polynya’s fireplace and as much as she loves a good brawl, as much as she loves the peace that she fought so hard to protect, her personal Hell will come in the form of taking it off the wall once more, and calling upon the magic that brought her the name Queen of the Seafire.

   and her Heaven, oh, oh, her Heaven is real! she lives in the capitol, a pretty little thing with messy hair and anxious, flapping hands! Ginia is Heaven come down to earth to forgive Polynya of all her sins, come to scoop her up and announce, loudly, you need a bath and something to eat that’s not tea, no arguments, then we can go work in the garden!   Heaven is a whirlwind of awkward questions and chortling laughs and lessons on flowers that never sink in, no, i don’t remember, till me again, Ginia, tell me everything. and the voice hums in Polynya’s HEART even as her aquarium lights flash a vibrant pink and the fish inside twist into a flurry of excitement nervous loving motion.   when it’s too late to garden they sit on the roof and share honey cakes and Polynya talks about the stars, so intrinsically tied to the ocean that it’s like citing off her family tree but way way more fun.

gonna go on and tag @a-place-of-babble @deadlyessencewhispers and @simplelinesunfashiond too since they’ve seemed interested in these lovely sad ocs of mine!

#groundhog day #nar tag #this was so much fun holy shit #i loved it

[glopratchet]

delivery-two

increase rank Once all key deliveries are completed you can unlock and urgent delivery You enter the lobby of your hotel room, which is surprisingly clean for a place where people sleep in it every night Complete the urgent quest and you will advance to the next rank After completing each of these quests you will be able to purchase items from the merchant who runs this establishment Every fight in the game is a boss fight but there are some that are more important than others By killing the biggest creatures and evilest villains you will which often lead to special rewards Every fight in the game is a boss fight, This is where your gear and skill comes in because raw strength sometimes isn't enough to bring down these important antagonists Every alligator requires some degree of stragtehy not matter what gear you have equipped Using an end gator weapon on a four foot yearling wont count squat if you dont know what you are doing and providing yourself with the correct gear also plays a vital role in destroying this creatures By collecting magical boons you will be able to defeat these huge beasts Item set-up Item set-up and providing yourself with the correct gear also plays a vital role in destroying this creatures for boss fights is to keep your distance and tire the things out Basic strategy A tiring enemy is a weak enemy which makes killing it that much easier Basic strategy for boss fights is to keep your distance and tire the things out And guides to the alligators that appear are at the bottom of this page you can view their pictures, get a detailed description of them and even track thier locations on the island And guides to the alligators that appear are at the bottom of this page you can view their pictures, you like from one of the previous games and go into first person by hitting TAB then use the mousewheel to change you view between your legs, torso, First things first make a chariorot or take one First things first make a chariorot or take one you like from one of the previous games and go into first person by hitting TAB then use the mousewheel to change you view between your legs, Thats already made it make you fell like your playing a game right? Thats already made it make you fell like your playing a game right? Process the alligator locations now using the database of images Process the alligator locations now using the database of images quests for later since they might be skippable and actually go kill animals Set aside the delivery Set aside the delivery quests for later since they might be skippable and actually go kill animals which is located on the eastern-southeastern part of the map and SAVE YOUR GAME OFTEN Send out a beacon for the googizon Send out a beacon for the googizon which is located on the eastern-southeastern part of the map and SAVE YOUR GAME OFTEN minus guts and better then the cooks give you food If you bring a grill you can cook the left overs Using fishing pole and a bait you can fish If you bring a grill you can cook the left overs minus guts and better then the cooks give you food doesnt matter, fire can make anything taste good But by reading this you have already made it past the first major step which isnt easy Rare medium well done Rare medium well done doesnt matter, The longer you cook the better the taste you will receive, this works in most games with cooking The longer you cook the better the taste you will receive, for perfumes this can make certain tasks easier such as tracking Gather herbs Gather herbs for perfumes this can make certain tasks easier such as tracking Collect mushrooms they tend to grow near trees you will need these for alligater carcusses when the time comes ct honey out of hollow trees If you are the kicking fighters I suggest wearing boots to reduce the effects of snakes and scorpions ct honey out of hollow trees or utility item Sometime quests can reward players with powerful items or reveal hidden locations on your map Combine items in certain order and recive a resulting potion Combine items in certain order and recive a resulting potion or utility item but if you save your game, rest up and keep fighting then you will succeed Sometimes things will look hopeless Sometimes things will look hopeless, at this point I suggest running away and resting because fighting a Death Jockey for example would not be in your best interest You have run out of potions You have run out of potions at this point I suggest running away and resting because fighting a Death Jockey for example would not be in your best interest You have fainted twice already and gotten up both times your luck wont hold out forever The Chapter is titled "Never give up" ed to pull out and restart his barrows dissections ed to pull out and restart his barrows dissections can often lead playe to unusual rewards But these are optional and many times result in nothing Gathering quests Gathering quests can often lead playe to unusual rewards Going back to the potions you have basically created a healing mix that can be used more that once Make a detour on your way back to the barrows and collect some from the hollow tree then meed the need Someone needs honey Someone needs honey? without being followed Make your way to the giant desert in the southwest part of the map Travel to the hive and get it Travel to the hive and get it without being followed Above all else collect items reagularly and study them An example being mining the rocks will give random ores which can be used or sold Above all else collect items reagularly and study them Dont break the egg your aunt gave you this will hatch into a pet spider later Dont break the egg your aunt gave you this will hatch into a pet spider later Some times your weapon will bounce off the armoured shells unless they can be flipped Not all cannons are pointing at the sky some are hiding behind castles and will be turned towards land if needed over Some times your weapon will bounce off the armoured shells unless they can be flipped over mission items if you can live without them or risk using them Speaking to people sometimes get you items as rewards which can be used for other quest later Abandon the delivery Abandon the delivery mission items if you can live without them or risk using them s will give you a can call out for animals like wolves, hawks bats and rats to help you in a fight Great lizardskull Great lizardskulls will give you a can call out for animals like wolves, achievement unlocked Small good deed award unlocked Got to kill all the bees for they prepare to attack you because of destroying their home Perfect beeing: a delivery game a delivery game achievement unlocked is a net polearm and climbing gear Your most basic pounch set up Your most basic pounch set up is a net polearm and climbing gear out of combat Flint and steel- Used to make fires to keep warm or to prank others Ten potions- use these to recover from minor injuries Ten potions- use these to recover from minor injuries out of combat Ten mega potions use these to hear after sustaining a major injury Tornado macro- used for extreme situations where an overwhelming amount of enemies need to be taken out at once Ten mega potions use these to hear after sustaining a major injury out of combat when not in extreme situations 200 health Potions- took awhile to collect these keep them in containers of 100 Must combine them from stratch Must combine them from stratch when not in extreme situations Three or more paintballs indicate a potential battle, mix these with item to throw at the enemy Money is always valuable if used right Three or more paintballs indicate a potential battle, some time First chapter compleated, total of 6 to go Some areas blocked by a green forcefield prevent you from progressing until something is done Hit an alligator with a paintball and they will be visible on the map for Hit an alligator with a paintball and they will be visible on the map for some time into the repear trenches before they dissapear Here are pictures to help you along Ten minutes can be renewed if another is thrown Ten minutes can be renewed if another is thrown into the repear trenches before they dissapear Well done steaks decrease hunger need a way to cook them though Well done steaks decrease hunger need a way to cook them though repeatedly There are islands on the north-western and south-eastern part of the map They will provide valuable resources and food if they are restored 20 whetstone- use these to sharpen your weapon 20 whetstone- use these to sharpen your weapon repeatedly Flask of oil use on sword or on hinges, Explosives and stuff Items- Items-Flask of oil use on sword or on hinges, use these to wipe out small enemies or groups Watch the locals there willl be a way to interact with them in some way Dung bombs; ( dung bomb ) ( dung bomb ) use these to wipe out small enemies or groups Casing ; ( sap plant stone/iron ) use these to make weapon and armour upgrades Food-Steaks etc do not spoil but are hard to find use food points to track them ( sap plant stone/iron ) use these to make weapon and armour upgrades Null berries remove all harmful or helpful effects Null berries remove all harmful or helpful effects will destroy your hearong and reduce it greatly for a time Sonic bombs Sonic bombs will destroy your hearong and reduce it greatly for a time Water blight postion is a second lake of poison but it moves around alot Water blight postion is a second lake of poison but it moves around alot Alligators are weakest to ice followed by fire water and thunder Blacksmithing items are scattered througout the land use them to trade regeneration does not work through all injuries but it does make them much easier to bare Crystal bones Crystal bones regeneration does not work through all injuries but it does make them much easier to bare to the collector for safe passage and access to rare treats Flowers are used for many purposes especially in rituals and quest Deliver 4 gold fish Deliver 4 gold fish to the collector for safe passage and access to rare treats water, ice and fire material to a den Some alligators will need you to bring energy drinks Some alligators will need you to bring energy drinks, High reach is advised when travelling through the mountainous Do not drink the water there even if it appears clean There are 12 currants in this bowl as a traditional challenge High reach is advised when travelling through the mountainous attacks will make combat much easier Not used common since aftershocks can easily destroy half complete structures Sewers are wide and thorough Constantly move, strafing around you and quickly starfing strafing around you and quickly starfing attacks will make combat much easier scavengers call outs there can be many and silent Watch out for the posion bite Watch out for the posion bite scavengers call outs there can be many and silent meat can be used as bait for these great creatures Common is an abandoned city plan a day's hike far from your location Speeder spider Speeder spider meat can be used as bait for these great creatures greatly reduces any glare allowing it to attack from any angle Gore magala Gore magala greatly reduces any glare allowing it to attack from any angle quite high on the list of most detested oggra but are delicious Glopratchet rank Glopratchet rank quite high on the list of most detested oggra but are delicious Many poisonous dart frogs live nearby make sure do not eat them accidently Alright welcome to gloptrachte rank Alright welcome to gloptrachte rank quite high on the list of most detested oggra but are delicious Ultimate without cheats, glitches or questions asked Two dark red potions on shelf in first cottage up ahead Here is wehre you get the title of one of the most difficult video game ever made Here is wehre you get the title of one of the most difficult video game ever made Ultimate without cheats, so far Alligators in g rank hit a ton harder than anything you have faced Alligators in g rank hit a ton harder than anything you have faced so far Its not uncommon to faint once or twice during a delivery even when wearing end gator gear Once a female chooses to mate she becomes an aggressive lethal weapon to all others eno queen is a deadly beast who must be destroyed before she makes more Tetsucabra x Tetsucabra xeno queen is a deadly beast who must be destroyed before she makes more are highly territorial unable to focus on anything else once they find a target of choice Seregios Seregios are highly territorial unable to focus on anything else once they find a target of choice eno leader is extremely territorial and very difficult to bring down once settled in a lair Regios x Regios xeno leader is extremely territorial and very difficult to bring down once settled in a lair singing, speech impediment forgetting to eat all combine to make our hearts heavy Birthday berries Birthday berries singing, helps the time go by faster have to stay on move constantly long line of suitors Chasing tail Chasing tail helps the time go by faster have to stay on move constantly long line of suitors Tail lampreys make hiding or invisibility items completely pointless due to an incredible sense It creates a spike in the ground which increases the size of the hitbox and makes it a bit harder to avoid with rabies has only half the intellectual capacity but twice the physical abilities Berserk tetsucabra Berserk tetsucabra with rabies has only half the intellectual capacity but twice the physical abilities down is only sad way for a mighty reptile to die Let take this road carved into cliff face, shortcut to other desert tribes never need water Blouder that explode after crunching them Blouder that explode after crunching them down is only sad way for a mighty reptile to die with built in rest area and delicious candy red balloons overhead Multi-gator Multi-gator with built in rest area and delicious candy red balloons overhead Fashion victim hates feathers so chest and hip pads protect vital organs instead Let's try valley of giant flowers beautiful shimmery what comes out? Fashion victim hates feathers so chest and hip pads protect vital organs instead Topple sporting equipment makes great noise impossible sneak up on anyone here Wouldn't be rock thrown by ledge dwellers no way they could have aim that good Topple sporting equipment makes great noise impossible sneak up on anyone here looking like cute confused tourist One time found paint gun in ship so going to doodle over rivals carapace Pivot in circle vs awakardly shuffling around Pivot in circle vs awakardly shuffling around looking like cute confused tourist after it in avery organized fashion Never question why, Milt breeders are spieces of cake compared to this Eacht delivery needs a name and number Eacht delivery needs a name and number after it in avery organized fashion and lights dim after every goal known bug Horn broken so whistling all the way home getting exercised routines wrong Grand finals confrontation Grand finals confrontation and lights dim after every goal known bug brings whole bar to dance recently so new personal best Look be fair all those purple centers take many attempts Serptintine samba Serptintine samba brings whole bar to dance recently so new personal best tricky one trick pony but crowd loves it when it works Tons of millipedes so pumping out feelers doable without even noticing Serpent serande Serpent serande tricky one trick pony but crowd loves it when it works may be the only constant but keep mind focused over strays Peppered rum lowers inhibitions and advances dancing skills greatly recommend it Death and taxidermy Death and taxidermy may be the only constant but keep mind focused over strays pillage pow wow really meant to dance around cage not pummel foes Primate plunder Primate plunder pillage pow wow really meant to dance around cage not pummel foes special announcement on mainscreen at start think the Gamemaker will announce a victor Hunger games Hunger games special announcement on mainscreen at start think the Gamemaker will announce a victor is drawn and thoughts are in head but feel bad about it maybe just stick to mingling Line in the sand is working but mixed signals makes issue reality check before acting on anything So to say perceptive would be a compliment but are insulted they should be dancing for everyone Line in the sand is drawn and thoughts are in head but feel bad about it maybe just stick to mingling Chumming the waters Chumming the waters is working but mixed signals makes issue reality check before acting on anything having huge gambling streaks and need to hedge against outcomes Bug be gone of the terrible twins Bug be gone of the terrible twins having huge gambling streaks and need to hedge against outcomes different viruses one striped one spots which secretly play favorites Odd choice but hard to argue when stopping war with heard dragons and controlling population projection Both alligators are infected Both alligators are infected different viruses one striped one spots which secretly play favorites effects until out of sight from other monsters Poison injectors through tail are not favorite but could be fun to trade sometime Just bring nullberries to conter the frenzy Just bring nullberries to conter the frenzy effects until out of sight from other monsters from selachii Supple learners learn the secrets and stop problems while we keep lessons learned Queen substance can be procurred from desert seltas and selta's shinies Queen substance can be procurred from desert seltas and selta's shinies from selachii and stories lay along sidelines keeping head down while reading them all The front page is nothing but quests The front page is nothing but quests and stories lay along sidelines keeping head down while reading them all Go get the honey and avoid swatting bugs of the non-fatal variety o heal them and keep kids off the mini-troch o heal them and keep kids off the mini-troch Alligator virus is spreading must heal them all to avoid a outbreak before it finds a cure Snappy comebacks in the nick of time hilarious and fix situation without thinking needed Alligator virus is spreading must heal them all to avoid a outbreak before it finds a cure only cure found mix as many ingredients possibly can into one handy drink Dam good run since morning could use a great reward fetashis on house Need alligator tail pronto Need alligator tail pronto only cure found mix as many ingredients possibly can into one handy drink finally good challenge since morning Puzzle game at heart and this one hard to make head or tale of At last you finally come toe to toe with the seregios At last you finally come toe to toe with the seregios finally good challenge since morning from zios too try getting venom antidote from the queen before bleeding to death Bleeding ailment Just picking berries and dodging slowmoving darts shouldn't be this fun Bleeding ailment from zios too try getting venom antidote from the queen before bleeding to death Health will decrease as you spring or evade moves will l earn you later Too early to tell if muscle memory can strike a balance in edge cases bleeding out goal is to kill monster if possible without Complicated card game that could become second job since avoiding battles now after initial session Mosswine jerky or steaks to cure Mosswine jerky or steaks to cure bleeding out goal is to kill monster if possible without and this whole new section opens up need more practice to see implications Days pass and you go from bobbing and weaving to going on the attack Farm for equipment Farm for equipment and this whole new section opens up need more practice to see implications but instinct and learned skill move you from beginner to student Beast not quite busted Beast not quite busted but instinct and learned skill move you from beginner to student has a few tricks up it's sleeve and the will to use them all the time Brute tigrex Brute tigrex has a few tricks up it's sleeve and the will to use them all the time of a lizard got stomping grounds so the whole island acknowledges it's mastery Other beasts might be stronger faster or bigger but wit and evolution will win the day Temper tantrum Temper tantrum of a lizard got stomping grounds so the whole island acknowledges it's mastery wit the butcher relieves strain of near nightly hunts and your safe to farm Showdown Showdown wit the butcher relieves strain of near nightly hunts and your safe to farm and neither of you are backing down Pull and tug back and fourth and once again wit proves superior to brawn Brute tigrez is a true force to be reckoned with Brute tigrez is a true force to be reckoned with and neither of you are backing down uses every inch of your flexibility Swap out your old sword for the brute's tooth for the edge in battles to come Topple or mount the alligator to access the tail Topple or mount the alligator to access the tail uses every inch of your flexibility and charges you! The alligator virus is transmittable through body fluid no wonder you've been isolated from the beginning Things go south very quickly after she becomes enraged Things go south very quickly after she becomes enraged and charges you! You've defeated queen ziost and all her minions but at a high cost can't afford to make the same mistakes again A grotersquely high increase in speed and damage buff that might make a single hit ruin your day Breaking teeth takes a lot of hard work but and veangeful bite leaves you a bloody mess Breaking teeth takes a lot of hard work but and veangeful bite leaves you a bloody mess without venom if you strike at just the right angle and put your back into it The tail can also be severed The tail can also be severed without venom if you strike at just the right angle and put your back into it and crazy movement make it hard to land any good hits stick with the dodging until you learn it's patterns Bold of pink outbreak Bold of pink outbreak and crazy movement make it hard to land any good hits stick with the dodging until you learn it's patterns Yup more infected monsters and a trip through a far off island this time High risk location, at any moment you could come across infected or an unknown virus Yup more infected monsters and a trip through a far off island this time G3 permit quests are always a gamble but you're confident you can handle whatever is next Gator attacks prove more than just annoying without many choices between poor and worst case G3 permit quests are always a gamble but you're confident you can handle whatever is next again, strange clockwork machines behind the clouds shows forever circuits The more things change the more you stay the same though some of these machines seem new Into the heavens Into the heavens again, ble plot the toxin that keeps wildlife from attacking him is it for you Since chamelos can temporaril turn himself invis Since chamelos can temporaril turn himself invisble plot the toxin that keeps wildlife from attacking him is it for you everywhere and you'll become legend when dragging this back to the Z The true ba of all hunters The true ba of all hunters everywhere and you'll become legend when dragging this back to the Z is the name of the game with sharper tusks and older bite become very familiar A g rand furious rajang A g rand furious rajang is the name of the game with sharper tusks and older bite become very familiar s and toxins that turn coat thick and hard as asphalt Advanced quagmire quarrel Advanced quagmire quarrels and toxins that turn coat thick and hard as asphalt is a much softer name for something with such power really glad it was on our side Demolisher Demolisher is a much softer name for something with such power really glad it was on our side and landwalker prefer to stomp things but limbs can be twisted off if its hanging over a cliff of some sort Gogmazios Gogmazios and landwalker prefer to stomp things but limbs can be twisted off if its hanging over a cliff of some sort regular old blasts will just make angrier The one weakness they all share is explosive damage burst apart into bloody chunks so use large bombs Weakest to fire and completely immune to status effects Weakest to fire and completely immune to status effects regular old blasts will just make angrier indeed a bit bigger than mines but still close enough to cause a few surprised out of miners Apex alligator Apex alligator indeed a bit bigger than mines but still close enough to cause a few surprised out of miners to everything but fire and frost eventually succumb to poison Perptually enraged and have extremely tough hides Perptually enraged and have extremely tough hides to everything but fire and frost eventually succumb to poison beast especially if they can turn multiple body parts into trusted firearms Blast blight Blast blight beast especially if they can turn multiple body parts into trusted firearms always hot even when dead surprisingly but flesh still burns like anything else Molten tigrex Molten tigrex always hot even when dead surprisingly but flesh still burns like anything else is definitely something worthwhile bring back a tooth and claw for trophy Doomsday tier fatalis Doomsday tier fatalis is definitely something worthwhile bring back a tooth and claw for trophy Too bad g-rank guildies can destroy townships single handedly but at least they can't destroy the whole world ; (yet) Guild quests are not necessarty component to completing the game but you can get some pretty neat stuff from them that's a nice drop from san lauderbur ; (whatever that is) looks like rifle for long disttance shooting Relic reward Relic reward that's a nice drop from san lauderbur ; from skull bash spamming lavania's gigan tyrannos are welcome too despite being weak to something random Rare drops Rare drops from skull bash spamming lavania's gigan tyrannos are welcome too despite being weak to something random of these laying around ripping off jaws makes saleable decoration on wall Almost every alligator has one Almost every alligator has one of these laying around ripping off jaws makes saleable decoration on wall gives tannin to their hide used to make armour Domesticated alligator pets of any kind are illegal no exceptions Alligators eat some to the strangest stuff Alligators eat some to the strangest stuff gives tannin to their hide used to make armour which sucks out loud Suffice to say one is always enough You now there is always the one piece which never seems to drop You now there is always the one piece which never seems to drop which sucks out loud offers her aid if in return you bring back her pheromones so she can control nearby monster territories Queen extract Queen extract offers her aid if in return you bring back her pheromones so she can control nearby monster territories applies it near body to gain increased attack power and instantly appeal to anyone Queen concentrate Last quest of hunters ceremonial quest always popular for some reason Queen concentrate applies it near body to gain increased attack power and instantly appeal to anyone under construction by former queen Immortal reactor Decanter used special mount meal drink whatever is extremely valuable during endeavors Immortal reactor under construction by former queen armour made by adamanite ore rock da greatest stuff around As talented as you are at hunting why not organize a cotumnsquad for defences Barach pallium Barach pallium armour made by adamanite ore rock da greatest stuff around Rathian ruby given for slaying what once was alpha predator of these lands have some rare gem Not like they use it for anything important anymore all gone now Rathian ruby given for slaying what once was alpha predator of these lands have some rare gem always in demand for some reason just nice material for protective coat Tigrex mantle Tigrex mantle always in demand for some reason just nice material for protective coat useful for faceing off against tough monsters some kind of energy clumped together probably elemental Alexandrite rare stone convertible to coin very handy for investment Pulsating blastheart Pulsating blastheart useful for faceing off against tough monsters some kind of energy clumped together probably elemental for leading threequads a pittance compared real life saving grace of having one Conquest sphere Conquest sphere for leading threequads a pittance compared real life saving grace of having one Comes in all shapes and sizes but immune to everything as far as you know Wartorn dragonsphire Wartorn dragonsphire Comes in all shapes and sizes but immune to everything as far as you know package deal gets you better deals supplies and some discounts How much is life is just a delivery service How much is life is just a delivery service package deal gets you better deals supplies and some discounts You want this ok i will bring it to you so you dont have to go get it and trample everything with incredibly sharp talons otherwise seemingly cute Gargwa are ostrich like birds that run around Gargwa are ostrich like birds that run around and trample everything with incredibly sharp talons otherwise seemingly cute To get them to drop an egg attack them from behind around like idiots and rarely ever attack humans unless harmed first Kecha wacha wallop Kecha wacha wallop around like idiots and rarely ever attack humans unless harmed first bugs like hairy spiders that inject paralyzing venom when attacking Might want to poison dart them from a distance Lair scare Lair scare bugs like hairy spiders that inject paralyzing venom when attacking dragon with bling on their back Might want a Rathian Ruby for visiting this place Snow with occasional lamborgini Snow with occasional lamborgini dragon with bling on their back on hide with cloth going out of style and demand so high Salvage claws are always handy to take from anything giant or troll Uncorner the market Uncorner the market on hide with cloth going out of style and demand so high seems like eternaes successor very sharp Advanced tigrex terror Advanced tigrex terror seems like eternaes successor very sharp live everyone looks like some kind of torture device never markets well Varanimp skin rare due to simplicity in hunting them but hides make quality fabric Hanner it out Hanner it outlive everyone looks like some kind of torture device never markets well uses thermoconch shells unique to freshwater fish Skulls are quite popular as trophies from the various terrors you kill Catch and release Catch and release uses thermoconch shells unique to freshwater fish is high like infamous fangs but due to being elementally aligned as well as viral you are safe Fear factor Might be able to corner the market in hides Fear factor is high like infamous fangs but due to being elementally aligned as well as viral you are safe due to human military patrols so please accept my apologies Wild bugs tend to nest near toxic sites luckily they like explosives a lot This delivery cannot be completed by normal means This delivery cannot be completed by normal means due to human military patrols so please accept my apologies Monsters ambush you when scaling the mountain usually when climbing up After you witness the alligator being attack by a steve the master of defense will force the quest into failure to science guy near kobold area Deliver fossilized bones Deliver fossilized bones to science guy near kobold area a turf war between infamous fangs to gain area of controol Kushala kushowdown Most encounter when doing mining jobs Kushala kushowdown a turf war between infamous fangs to gain area of controol is ideal to take these on Notorious Fangs hideout used to be prime hunting grounds till they moved in A weapon that fires masses of pure alligator energy A weapon that fires masses of pure alligator energy is ideal to take these on sound affects all but you can use it on their pet Dark fish are dream eater plants that float around and eat stupid people The echoing roar The echoing roar sound affects all but you can use it on their pet has some but well rocks are always in supply Black rock down Black rock down has some but well rocks are always in supply Hunting vicariously through adventurers is how these cruel gods amuse themselves With the tigrex summoned away you have your chance to enter the cave unseen Hunting vicariously through adventurers is how these cruel gods amuse themselves so you will need to knockout more fish then they do The alligators can smell fear The alligators can smell fear so you will need to knockout more fish then they do The fear mechanic is in play here as it multiplies their bite, meaning your body will be ripped apart The fear mechanic is in play here as it multiplies their bite, Shipping out in two day you need to collect heat stones in advance The herik crabs natural enemy is the ang grapphoulder so have some crab paste ready Shipping out in two day you need to collect heat stones in advance says no to nightly monster incursions as it messes with the ecosystem Research tooth from freshly dead glinthawk Noctural commision Noctural commision says no to nightly monster incursions as it messes with the ecosystem that will be used in the duel Due to wanting instant gratification you loose half your teeth Dah'ren will briefly shrink into the swamp to produce a speark from his side Dah'ren will briefly shrink into the swamp to produce a speark from his side that will be used in the duel but creatures still around in small numbers Kirill stands still and as the paws approach him he strikes with broken bottles hidden under his jacket Preadtor into prey Preadtor into prey but creatures still around in small numbers and purple items just like all the other sheep under your command Afraid of the dark Afraid of the dark and purple items just like all the other sheep under your command Primal pounds chest and growls while primal materializes a few short blades and hidden arrows Either of which you can hunt at the gathering Primal pounds chest and growls while primal materializes a few short blades and hidden arrows belong to neither predator nor pray but hide and seek Ideal charm prevents complete stoning Hide and freak Hide and freak belong to neither predator nor pray but hide and seek arrive in thirty minutes and you are doing a terrible job at preparing the meal Some of these stones must be shaman locked into place Dinner guests Dinner guests arrive in thirty minutes and you are doing a terrible job at preparing the meal style traps surround this camp hunting whatever they feel like at the time Ideal charm opens all locks and they're everywhere here so you'll need one Buffet Buffet style traps surround this camp hunting whatever they feel like at the time to reach him The entire wall is made from living bedrock so the gas vents won't help as you'll see shortly You have compelte the alligator delivery service You have compelte the alligator delivery service to reach him How fun with post game content be if eating magical grasses made everyone not effected by periodic statue phase Time to trail runs will effect likelihood of escape How fun with post game content be if eating magical grasses made everyone not effected by periodic statue phase "Vic, why the heck are you logging into my account and cheating! And crafting your favorite armors Blastblight is spread by catching the creeping purple infection and bing eaten from the inside out Shiny metal acts as a repellant but you might catch anyway Blastblight is spread by catching the creeping purple infection and bing eaten from the inside out gives you a crushing disease that makes your bones very soft and your innards runny Striking gold Striking gold gives you a crushing disease that makes your bones very soft and your innards runny you go with the most vicious reputation and come out with a brand new condition Into the mist Into the mist you go with the most vicious reputation and come out with a brand new condition Looking at equipment can help determine what role you will play You stay on the outer edge and let someone else take the shot The dust catches the light just right and blinds you with a sharp pain and limbs and a slinger with shot will attack its body Hard shells resist axe and piercing shot while soft shells resist sword and blunt shot For example a hunter with a hammer will attack the monsters head For example a hunter with a hammer will attack the monsters head and limbs and a slinger with shot will attack its body Nothing makes for poor damage than four guys tripping each other up trying to get to the monsters head You have been sent in to scout and slapbox whatever lies in wait Most of the holey beasts walk sluggishly on the ground and that should mess up their movel Masticate, slam, wail! Watch for upswings super pounds and gi shells Certian weapon attack can be incredibly disruptive towards other hunters With every busted bely part the monster gets faster and angrier Bottles rain down which then explode when they hit something Grover has yet to sleep with a girl so his skills are at their sharpest Mind your positioning and make sure no other hunters are around when you are using them the flesh inside the arena will latch onto the first threat it sees and scream Contribute Contribute the flesh inside the arena will latch onto the first threat it sees and scream You are now an alligator garuantor Grant your team wind pressure resistance or earplughs while bashing the alligators face in on your horn The feral mutants lurking nearby would love to add your feet to their collection Dont just sit in the corner playing crummy healing songs Dont just sit in the corner playing crummy healing songs on your horn outdated equipment commonly causes injuries Keep equipment up to date Keep equipment up to date, to you When you rank up update all equipment of the approatiete rank Of course when you have twelve sets of tier 12 gear something bad will happen When you rank up update all equipment of the approatiete rank to you The old bloods turned you into the arena, you can turn them into dust Carry lifepoweders and dust of life to heal teammates from afar perhaps you are elsewhere in the food chain now Refer to rare catch drops to dertermine to capture or kill the alligater to retain the parts you need and run by the rest of the party Share items with your team or they will rebuild seterusnya in their favor on the nose, hit them right between the eyes Dont hit mounted alligators Dont hit mounted alligators on the nose, and send the rider flying Hope they share some of the women when your done inking them all over If the alligator flinches the mount will automatically fail If the alligator flinches the mount will automatically fail and send the rider flying but then again they donorized you telekenetically Nope, right between the eyes it is aside from not wanting to you don't really have any spears on you for some reason and the monster is 50 meters away and charging actually its more like 40 meters away and quickly getting closer Your muscles take the coachs reps to heart the little one that is in charge of pumping blood to your heart makes an extra special effort building muscle is easy, just use larger weights than everyone else the little one that is in charge of pumping blood to your brain shuts down some unimportant but large area blood loss caused by the drill they put through your hand and fast the blood clots fast and prevents acidic burning

[ii-thiscat-ii]

Oooh, how about The Wizard of Lanata?

Sure. The Wizard of Lanata.

(DVD-style commentary is the single most self-indulgent thing the author has ever done and should be taken with a grain of salt and probably whiskey.)

Again, this is a story of Dipper pretending to be human. Unlike most of the others, the setting is an unimaginable amound of time in the future, probably on a different planet, in a society that has regressed to a medival type technology level.

I have repeatedly stated that I could probably write an entire novel about this story, but I won’t. What I have written was written over the course of two days during December last year, and is rushed, summarized, and probably full of typoes, but I still love it and so do many others.

It just happens to be the perfect blend of TAU and the more Pratchettian medival bizarre village stories, where strange things happen and people learn to live with them. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it and would gladly revisit it if I got a new idea.

Chapter 1

I wanted “Tyrone” to come across as somewhat fey. He was supposed to appear as something that attempted to be human, but didn’t really know what that meant, just like how his sheep seem like they kind of know what a sheep is, but not entirely.

The way it takes him a while to figure out how people are supposed to dress, the way his house materializes overnight, and the way he entirely forgets to age are all important things to have in the introduction, to establish the mood I wanted the fic to have. If there is anything I would change if I rewrote this, though, it’s his name. The whole “old man Tyrone” thing sounds nice, but doesn’t really make sense if he doesn’t look old.

Then there’s the Flock.

It was not unusual for shepherds to bring an animal or two into their houses during harsh, cold winter nights. It was stuffy and it smelled, but it was by far preferable to freezing to death.

Tyrone brought his flock into his home on a very different basis. Unrelated to the seasons, every single sheep in his corral walked into the house once a day, regularly as clockwork. No one could understand how they all fit in there, and no one could understand why, either.

When anyone dared ask, Tyrone only smiled and said, “Well, it can’t do for them to miss their reality shows, now can it?” which made no sense at all.

I always have the Flock watch reality shows if I can. It’s one of those details that are just funny in themselves. Of course, the fact that they can get reality shows in a place where TVs generally don’t exist adds another layer of unreality to the whole place.

Either they’re watching through weird time-shenanigans, or they’re actually getting shows from another planet, which honestly makes more sense.

The conclusion they ended up falling back on was the Tyrone simply did not know the proper method by which to shear a sheep. And that he should probably not be invited to any more shearing events. 

Lanata’s reaction to Tyrone is probably my favourite part of the whole story. Whether he’s doing things that are blatantly impossible, having actual fair folk buy his wares at the farmers market, or having his sheep spy on people and predict the future, he’s not hurting anyone, so Lanata accepts it and moves on.

Of course, there’s also the detail that the sheep never predict the future while he’s around to see, implying that they’re taking the whole “pretending to be mortal” thing slightly less seriously than he does, and that they’re not afraid to have a little fun on his behalf.

The incident with the sheep thieves has been written out and is hilarious. Here.

It’s one of many scenes I had ideas for for this fic, not all of which I could include. I liked the idea of one sheep herder borriwing one of the Flock for studding purposes just because it was ridiculous and we all know it wouldn’t work, but unfortunately I forgot to write in the one where someone somehow burns a truckload of yggdrasil, fogging down the entire valley and accidentally swarming the village with demon sheep high off their asses. Ah, next time.

As any other special thing that happens to such a community and stays around, and that they can do nothing about, they developed a kind of pride around him. Sure, he was creepy and unsociable, and his sheep randomly announced people’s small but dirty secrets to the world, maybe he infuriated people at times, maybe he scared the living daylights out of most of the youngsters who were dared by friends to approach his house at night, maybe eerie music could be heard from his home, and maybe he was a wizard, and wizards were rumoured to be fickle and dangerous, but he was their wizard, dammit, and they were proud if him. 

Incredible what you can decide to be proud of if you can’t remove it.

Tyrone isn’t a wizard, of course, but that’s what people think. At this point in time he’s been around for long enough that going a decade without a proper deal isn’t the biggest problem, which of course leaves him with more time to fuck around, but he does still make deals if they’re offered, and that does probably help the way the village sees him.

He’s not someone whose help you want to need, but if you do, you can get it, and that’s important. It helps cement in people’s minds that he’s not just weird and magical, he’s also powerful, and on average he does good.

The tax collector was funny though. I had a lot of people saying they felt sorry for him, which tells me I wasn’t clear enough about the fact that his demand for one of Tyrone’s sheep was not, in fact, his job, but an abuse of power. It’s a bit of a staple for stories of this genre that the tax collector is someone no one likes and who does no good, and considering how remote Lanata is, you have to wonder if it ever actually gets anything back for its taxes.

Either way, it was a fun joke.

Chapter 2

I wasn’t actually planning for this fic to become as long as it did, but my things have gotten this tendency lately to grow entirely out of proportion. I wasn’t happy about having to chop it up, but in the end, it was probably for the best.

The first chapter was mostly Tyrone and Lanata, and how they feel about each other. In this one, we get more outside views.

Liam is just a random travelling wizard, mostly there to show what Tyrone looks like to one of this planet’s actual wizards. He gets scared quickly and leaves without having any large effect on anything.

The next outsider to try to meddle is a king, because if I didn’t include a king, what kind of genre conventionalist would I be?

The part I like about this passage is that Tyrone himself doesn’t do much to dissuade anyone. All he does is tell two separate people no and then warn the tavern owner that someone is trying to set her house on fire, and letting Lanata sort out its own business.

Only when the king bothers to come himself does Tyrone decide to give him his time of day. This of course ends with the king gaining a lifelong fear of demons and eventually to the Circle of the Dreamers’ Star becoming a national religion, but that’s more or less irrelevant. The point is that Tyrone doesn’t need anything that he doesn’t already have here. He is, in fact, entirely content. I like writing fic like that.

The wizard and his sheep had lived in the house on the hill for so long the oldest woman in the village remembered her grandmother speaking of him as if he had always lived there. For all this time, there had been very little change in how he acted out his days.

Then, Iirah happened.

Iirah is one of my own favourite Mizars. She’s “the old wizard’s beautiful daughter”. She is so much fun, and she changes the game.

At this point, Dipper has been Tyrone the sheepherder, and then the Wizard for several centuries, and it was about time for something to change. Iirah gives him a reason to interact with the townfolk on a more personal level. She humanizes him, in a way, because she is undoubtedly human where he is undoubtedly not, and it creates an entirely new dynamic.

Not to mention all the random theories that arise about where she comes from. We know that he probably just kidnapped her from neglecting parents off another planet, but they still have to wonder if he made her out of straw.

Iirah is also what makes him give the second king a chance, because he is soft as hell for his children’s puppy eyes no matter how old he gets, and Iirah wants to see a castle and wear a princess dress, and honestly she has a great time.

She’s such a spoiled child.

He was numbered among their curiosities, a seemingly normal man with antlers like a stag growing from his head, antlers made of wood and bone with cranberry leaves growing from them. They called him Bet, and he visited the tavern one night that Iirah worked the till. He caught her eye immediately.

Kaleb’s story is one I really wish I could have taken more care with. I don’t think anyone will be surprised to hear he’s a Henry reincarnation, what with the antlers and all.

They’re physical because of an incident in his youth, and they’re also the reason he’s more or less a slave at the point invtime where he enters the story.

I wish I could have had his and Iirah’s meeting flow better, and I wish I could have had a bunch of village boys corner him and tell him that she had never learned to protect herself so if he hurt him they would stab him dead for his own good. I wanted him to be taken in by the village absolutely and completely, only because Iirah liked him and Iirah is the wizard’s daughter. I wanted him to hear rumours about the wizard but never really meet him before he walked out of Iirah’s room that one morning after, to find Tyrone sitting in a chair and looking at him.

I wish I’d found a more elegant way to deal with his name, and what that meant.

“For as long as you are within the boundaries of this village, you will have no name. No designation attached to you will stick, no memories of your previous names will remain, written records will smudge, and spoken words will be caught by the wind.”

I still like this part, though. Any beast can kill someone. Any monster can torture someone, but if something steals your name, you can be pretty damn sure you shouldn’t mess with it. It’s one of those scenes that formed the basis I built the rest of the story around.

And then it ends. Iirah dies, and Dipper can’t stand to live in the village anymore, though he gifts it with enough magic to keep the village special for centuries after, in the form of neon coloured sheep herds.

Maybe some day I’ll sit down and actually write that novel, but for now, this is it for Lanata.

[rumbellesummervacation]

Gone to See the Elephant: Rumbelle in San Antonio

Rumple, Belle and Gideon visit South Texas, expecting cowboys, history and weird stuff (Gid’s choice). They find everything they expect, plus a lot more: a magical river and Alamo ghosts who need their help. Rated K+.

<a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/11703102”>AO3 link</a>

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They’ve discovered that the three of them make an excellent traveling team.  Rumple loves to plan:  studying road maps, pumping Expedia and Priceline for the best deals, then phoning hotels to ferret out even better deals with his “your competitor offered me a senior discount and a Triple A discount.  Can you do better?” approach.  Not that they need worry about money:  they’ve learned in their travels that their black America Express is almost as powerful as magic in this vast land. Belle is the researcher, proudly taking each town on his map and running it through Fodors and Lonely Planet before hopping on Yelp and Trip Advisor.  In less than an hour, she can produce an annotated list of sights to see in any American town—as well as a secondary list of the overrated and overpriced tourist traps.  

And ten-year-old Gideon, eyes eagle sharp from the backseat of the Caddy, has radar for finding sights not in any book.  The more unusual, the better.  Like his father, Gid is a collector of the odd, capturing everything from roadside snake farms to street jugglers with his camera. They have come to South Texas now, for a week of high adventure.  This is more a Rumple-and-Gid thing, Belle thinks, but that’s okay:  whatever excites them pleases her.  Gid has been yammering on about the amusement parks:  he can’t wait to ride The Joker at Six Flags and catch his breath as the mighty Shamu etches an arch against the bright blue sky at Seaworld.  But his favorite, which he makes sure to include in every conversation, lest his parents forget, is Ripley’s Believe It or Not Odditorium, with its shrunken heads, headless chicken, and duck-mouthed lady.  “On Alamo Plaza,” he reminds Dad solemnly.  “Open 10 a.m. to 11 p. m. daily."  From behind the steering wheel, Dad assures him Ripley’s will not be left out, while Mom just sighs.

In private, they’ve discussed Gid’s fascination with the weird, Mom wondering if indulging it will leave an indelible stain on the boy’s innocence, but Dad replying by pointing to the odd stuff in his shop—including a portrait that she herself had painted of the sparkly, scaly Dark One in his Enchanted Forest years. “I think his interest in the unique things in life is unavoidable, sweetheart.” Still, Belle had fretted, until one afternoon, as Neal and Gid grossed each other out with a shed snake skin, Snow remarked upon the same fascination in her own son. “They’re ten,” Snow concluded. “Two years ago, they played in mud. Two years from now, it’ll be cars.”

Belle does believe in encouraging her child’s intellectual development, so she indulges him, taking comfort in the fact that Gid reads more and plays computer games less often than his peers. As the Caddy sails down IH-35, weaving its way between Ford F150s with “Protected by Smith & Wesson” bumper stickers and Honda Accords with “I love my granddog” bumper stickers, Rumple growls every time he’s cut off: “Use your friggin’ turn signal, Sheep-Dip-for-Brains.” Belle thinks, for Gid’s sake, she should chastise her husband, but these drivers make her just as annoyed as he is, so she lets the first almost-cuss-word slide. Five minutes later, as a U-Haul slides in front of the Caddy, Rumple’s at it again: “Use your friggin’ turn signal, Sheep-Dip-for-Brains.” Ten minutes later and it’s become a mantra that Belle lets him have, because she realizes it’s tamping his temper down.

Gid reads every road sign aloud (every road sign, Rumple mutters under his breath). Periodically he shouts out, and they pull off the highway to satisfy his curiosity (when he whispers, it’s because he needs a restroom). It impedes their progress to San Antonio, but that’s okay: by sunset they can boast that they’ve seen the Giant Slice of Pie (Kyle), the Fake Castle and Dragon (Buda—Gid is not impressed; he’s seen the real things, but he does appreciate the World Largest Pinball Machine inside the castle), the Giant Armadillo (Schertz), and the World’s Largest Cowboy Boots (San Antonio). At a Cracker Barrel they chow down on chicken fried steak and pick up an “I Wasn’t Born in Texas But I Got Here as Fast as I Could” bumper sticker.

That was just the first day in Central-South Texas.

San Antonio

Gid and Belle ride the Joker, the Batman, and the Krypton Coaster, while Rumple sits on a bench, cheering them on and “guarding our stuff.” He accompanies them on the bumper cars. When they zig and zag and loop on the Pandemonium, he loops into the nearest men’s room and loses his lunch. Staggering dizzily off the ride, Belle clutches Rumple’s arm to regain her balance, but Gid shrugs. “It was okay. Let’s go on the Screamin’ Eagle!”

When her head has cleared, she whispers at him, “Are you okay, darling? You look rather pale.”

“That last ride was a belly-buster,” he admits.

“But you— ” She clamps her mouth shut. “It sure was. Tomorrow will be easier: Seaworld.”

Except, as they discover, there’s the Great White Coaster and Steel Eel and the Wave Breaker, and by time his family have experienced the last thrill ride, Rumple wonders if someone has spiked his lemonade, for the bench he’s been riding all day tilts precariously. They spend a few sedate hours watching the animal shows, and when his stomach has settled he joins in with a Dolphin Swim.

Tired, sore-footed and sunburnt they fall into bed at a Holiday Inn. “Thank gods tomorrow is a shopping day,” Belle groans, rubbing her hip. “I’m getting too old for all this adventure.”

Rumple gives her a look and she giggles. “I know, I know.” He needn’t remind her he’s ten times her age.

The Hill Country

Then it’s Rumple’s turn to choose the adventure. They whisk up Highway 16 to Fredericksburg for some antique shopping. The winding two-lane blacktop takes them through the wild part of the Texas Hill Country. They have come too late in the year for the famous bluebonnets, but white-flowered yucca plants and Mexican Hatdot the limestone cliffs, and Gid spots vultures perching on electrical poles. The ruggedness thrills Belle as she fantasizes aloud about the pioneers crossing this land in creaking, jolting wagons. The traffic is hopping for a town of only 11,000 residents and there’s a B & B on every corner: from Fodor’s, Belle learns that Fredericksburg, with its German restaurants, vineyards, art galleries, antiques shops, and Old West specialty shops is a draw for artists, history buffs and weekend cowboys alike. From the sights beyond his windshield, Rumple ascertains that his pawnshop would do more business here than he could keep up with.

Rumple keeps his shopping short, taking photos of objects he takes a fancy to, exchanging business cards and, when he just can’t resist it, making a quick deal here and there for bits of furniture to be shipped back to Maine.

Then they swing back down south to the little but very busy town of Bandera, where motorcycles compete with pickups for parking spaces, and an arts and craftsshow takes up the courthouse lawn while, at Mansfield Park, there’s a mutton bustin’.This is “the Cowboy Capital of the World,” and though Rumple professes to have chosen this site as compensation for making Gid sit through a morning of antiquing, the truth is, this visit is for the older Gold. Belle knows this, from the shelf full of Elmer Keltons and TV Westerns in his closet at home, but she lets him have his little yellow fib.

The Golds find a city parking lot—just a plane of gravel, really—within walking distance of downtown (but then, pretty much everything here is in walking distance). As they approach Main Street, Gid bounces on ahead to watch performers reenact a gunfight. He squeezes his way past the iPhone photo-takers cluttering the sidewalks to get to the front for the best view. Belle frets a moment when she loses sight of him—even now, a decade after the Black Fairy’s defeat, she gets nervous sometimes. “It’s okay,” Rumple assures her. “If he needs us, he can yell louder than any six-shooter.”

But he gets a bit nervous as the people around him eyeball his D & G silk shirt and pressed slacks (at least he’s left the tie and jacket in the car). It’s not just that he stands out in this crowd of faded jeans and Spurs t-shirts, though he certainly does that: the tourists and Banderans alike step aside for him, apparently assuming he’s some federal government official (certainly not a local politico, or he’d be wearing denim). Normally that deference would be feeding his ego; as soon as he’d gained his power, he’d begun dressing to impress (and frighten). But not today, not here. Today, for one weekend, Rumplestiltskin wants to be a cowboy. “No, this won’t do,” he murmurs before pressing his mouth to Belle’s ear, to be heard over the street entertainers. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, sweetheart. You just stay and enjoy the show with Gid.”

She nods and takes advantage of her small frame to ease past the spectators to her son’s side. He wheels about and ambles (imagining he’s already wearing cowhide boots) down the boardwalk until he comes to a limestone-front shop with a pair of red boots decorating the facade: the Cowboy Store. What better place to outfit a fella who’ll be moseying on out to the ranch tonight. “Cowboy me,” he orders the clerk, slapping his Amex Black on the counter, and in fifteen minutes he’s in Wranglers, a short-sleeved Cinch shirt (Belle will be pleased: she admires his forearms) and Justin Hidalgos. In a shopping bag he tries to hide under his arm are his D & Gs and his Italian loafers. He hasn’t gone so far as to buy a Stetson—yet. But sometime before tonight’s rodeo at the Twin Elm he reckons he ought to.

He slathers on some sunblock and joins his family at the shoot-out. Standing shoulder to shoulder with other men, he feels, strangely, comfortable, as if he’s lived here before. His thoughts flash back for a moment to the Mr. Gold he once was, in the First Curse Days; Gold would have snickered, not just at the new clothes, but at the crowd he’s now associating with: middle-class, middle-aged, family men.Henpecked, Gold would have called today’s Rumple; today’s Rumple would have snapped back, “Proud of it.” And he would have known that, beneath the D & G layers beat an envious, lonely heart.

It’s time to let Mr. Gold go. Bury him in the rubble of the broken curse. Sliding an arm around his wife’s waist, Rumple won’t miss the old bastard a bit.

They drive out to their home for the weekend, the Twin Elm Guest Ranch. There’s so much to do this weekend, they can’t fit it all in: horseback riding and fishing tomorrow, followed by a rodeo.  They’ve come too late for the Wild Hog Explosion and BBQ, and too early for Celebrate Bandera, featuring a real-live cattle drive down Main Street, the Circle of Life Inter-Tribal Powwow, and the Professional Bull Riders rodeo. They knew from their research their timing was off for these events, but they figured they’d have a wonderful time anyway, and so they have. Still, after an evening of chuck-wagon steaks and line dancing to guitars and fiddles, Rumple leans against the gate, watching the sun go down as Gid and Belle chat quietly with other guests around a campfire. In the lengthening shadows, Rumple watches horses move slowly across the pasture, cropping grass. He hears tails swishing at horseflies, an occasional snort, a stomp of a hoof, and his heart stills. He’s lived many lives, but never this one, and yet, though there’s an illusion to it, for which his MasterCard Gold has paid, this feels more real to him that the Longbourne hovel or the Dark Castle. More like home.

In the West, a man can start again if he has the gumption for it. We only ask what he is, not what he was. He learned that from novels and movies. Here, he believes it to be true.

“That’s all right,” Belle remarks after she’s tucked Gid into a bunk bed. “We don’t have to rush. We have money enough, and time. We can always come back.”

Watching his son’s chest rise and fall in slumber, he dimples at this thought. “Yes. We’ll come back.”

San Antonio Again

“You seemed to really get into our little rodeo.” The ranch hand mops sweat and dust off his brow as he joins the Golds, leaning on the gate.

“We did,” Belle assures him, glancing at her bright-eyed boys, who are chattering excitedly with a barrel racer who’s resting on her sorrel, one leg hooked over the saddle horn.

“If you really want to see some action, you should go to a charreada. There’s one at Crying Creek Ranch in New Braunfels next Saturday.”

And so Belle’s choice is made. But Saturday is eight days away, so she relinquishes her turn to Gid, and the Caddy winds it way back down Highway 16. As soon as they hit Loop 1604 around the outer edges of San Antonio, they can feel the difference. The air itself changes, becomes charged with irresistible energy, almost borderline frantic, as the traffic on the very crowded highway-turned-city-street pushes and prods the Caddy to skim the speed limit. Belle has driven down from Bandera, but she pulls off at a Valero station to switch seats with Rumple: he taps into his mean streak and it’s his anger that allows him to compete with two million people for space in this sprawling, casually aggressive city. He’s powerful, even without his magic, and he drives like it. Though the Rams and the Tundras could easily blow him off the road, they give the Cadillac driver a little respect, perhaps assuming he can put his money where his mouth is. “Use your friggin’ turn signal, Sheep-Dip-for-Brains!” he shouts as a Camry cuts him off, and he raises his fingers from the steering wheel, wagging them. “Lucky for you he doesn’t have his magic,” Belle mutters, “else you’d be a snail washed up on the beach at Padre Island.”

Teeth gritted and “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” on the CD player, Rumple needles his way onto Loop 410 East, then, at Belle’s shouted directions, pushes onto IH-10 headed south (though he’s confused because the signs say “10 East”), which, to confuse matters further, merges for a spell with IH-35. With Gid in the backseat clutching his rolled-down window, sticking his face out into the whipping wind, Belle shouts again, and Rumple swings the Caddy across three lanes of traffic to the Houston Street exit, where suddenly everything. Comes. To. A. Standstill.

“Glad we got those brakes relined before we set out,” Belle grins, because Rumple has to ride them. They’re now on a two-lane red-brick street, which she finds charming and Gid finds delightfully bumpy, but Rumple finds maddening because there’s a bloody stoplight at every corner which pedestrians ignore, stepping right out into oncoming traffic, too busy admiring the buildings (they are interesting—a theater with a glitzy marquee, an old-fashioned drug store, Belle muses later) or reading the iPhones to watch where they’re walking. “Damn tourists,” Rumple grumbles, as if he lives here.

“Just be glad this isn’t playoff season,” Gid quips. He’s been watching Spurs games on YouTube. A natural athlete and a sports nut, the kid is; it separates him from his parents, gives him an identity of his own.

Gripping the wheel, Rumple ignores the streetcars, guns his engine a little to scare the jaywalkers, and inches his way east on Houston.

“In February, at the start of the Stock Show and Rodeo, they drive Longhorns down this street,” Belle comments, reading from her Fodor’s.

“I wonder if the pedestrians stop for Longhorns, or do the Longhorns stop for them,” Rumple grunts.

“Is that it?” Gid points at a hotel. They have plenty of time to examine it; a stretch limo unloading its passengers at the hotel entrance is blocking the entire east lane of the street.

“Emma would never allow a disruption like that,” Rumple complains. “A hazard, that’s what it is.”

“No, it’s not our hotel,” Belle informs her son.

They creep along. As a Lexus making a right turn cuts them off, Gid yells out the window, “Use your friggin’ turn signal, Sheep-Dip-for-Brains!”

Belle raises her sunglasses to squint at Rumple. She doesn’t have to say anything; he knows that admonishing look too well. “Uhm, yeah, I’ll, ah, modify my language from now on. Though technically, none of those words were swear words… .”

“Gid’s teacher might have another opinion,” Belle cautions.

Restaurants, a jeweler’s, an optician’s office, a clock on a tall post. “I can see the river. Can we go back later and walk down there?” Bars, apartments, novelty shops. Another hotel—”Is that it?” “No, that’s not our hotel.” Another hotel. Gid stops asking. “Turn here,” Belle instructs, and Rumple makes a right onto Losoya. The car and foot traffic are so dense now, and there’s construction blocking off lanes, so Rumple has to focus on what’s immediately ahead; he depends upon Belle to direct him. She does so, with careful specifics and plenty of advance notice. “Turn left at the next light. Crockett Street.”

“Look, Mom, there’s Ripley’s!”

“There’s the Alamo. Keep going. Cross Alamo Plaza. There, on the right.” Belle smiles back at Gideon with great satisfaction (and relief—not that she doesn’t trust her husband’s driving, but, well, “those bloody tourists!”). “That’s our hotel. The historic Menger. The oldest still-operating hotel west of the Mississippi.”

“Where Teddy Roosevelt recruited his Rough Riders,” Rumple adds as he pulls up at the front. Hands shaking, he pops the trunk and tosses the keys to a valet, while a bellhop steers a luggage rack to the back of the car. “Welcome to the Menger, ma’am, sirs,” the valet greets them.

Belle takes charge from here; Rumple is still too edgy. She gives him their name and leads the way inside, intending to beeline to the reservation desk, but she’s stopped short. “Ooh, my… .”

The lobby is indescribable in its elegance. A stained-glass ceiling, Corinthian columns, highly polished marble floors, woolen rugs, a stately grandfather clock overseeing it all. “This is the same furniture that was here in 1859,” Belle whispers to Rumple. They’re paying guests; they don’t need to whisper; but she feels a full voice would insult the atmosphere of this place… or disturb the legendary ghosts.

“Double-dial Seth Thomas,” Rumple gushes over the clock, then hurries over to an etagere: “Napoleon III revival, mid-1800s.” He cocks his head to study the ornate inlay. Then in a flash he’s on his feet again and admiring a table “French boulle, brass and tortoiseshell inlays; not a scratch!”)and a settee: “Empire, walnut, 1870’s.” Rumple wanders around, bending, crouching, even kneeling to admire the detail in the furnishings and the rug. “Handwoven. It would take me a year to produce a piece like this. It’s not a rug; it’s a work of art.”

“Mom, can we check in now?” Gid is already standing at the counter, bouncing from foot to foot. Belle knows full well what that means. “Yes, of course.” She digs around in her tote bag for her travel notebook, in which she’s written their confirmation number. As she searches, she amuses Gid with another factoid. “One of the wilder stories about this hotel is that in the early 1900s, a man who stayed here didn’t have enough money, so he paid his bill with an alligator.”

“What?!”

“And the hotel accepted it. They kept the alligator in a pool outside, and they bought some baby alligators to keep it company. They called him Bill.”

“Really?” Before Belle can stop him, Gid accosts a clerk. “Where’s your alligator?”

The clerk is unfazed; she’s heard the question many times before. “I’m sorry, young man, but Bill passed away a long time ago. We haven’t got around to replacing him yet.”

Belle apologizes and quickly switches the topic to the registration information.When a bellhop is summoned for her, she takes Gid by the hand and they are led to the elevator. “Rumple, you can look around. We’re going up to the room.”

A second bellhop takes this as a cue and offers Rumple a tour. “I can tell you about the paintings, if you like, sir. And over here there’s a very fine mahogany vitrine displaying rose medallion Chinese porcelain, and two matching Duncan Phyfe sofas that I think will impress you. And this grand piano was bought in 1876 for five hundred dollars… .”

With a slightly guilty glance at his departing family, Rumple promises he’ll join them shortly in their room.They have the Roy Rogers Signature Suite on the second floor, with two double beds, a private balcony overlooking the plaza gazebo, and Old West style furnishings, from cowhide chairs to a flower vase made from a boot. Throughout the suite are Remington- and Russell-style paintings as well as photos of Roy and Dale. A wooden poker table replaces the traditional writing desk, and overhead a wagon wheel chandelier completes the theme. Rumple will feel comfortable here—if he ever finishes his examination of the first floor.

As Belle tips the bellhop, Gid pauses in his dash to the bathroom long enough to ask, “Hey, where did Trigger sleep?”

Again, the question doesn’t faze the staff. The bellhop points to the bedroom closet. “In there. You see that little door in the wall? It’s closed off now, but that’s where we’re drop the hay in.”

“Cool,” Gid nods before scampering off.Gid uses the bathroom, and afterward Belle makes him take a bath. She has him wait in one of the fluffy robes provided by the hotel; when Rumple is ready, she’ll have Gid dress up and they’ll go down to the Colonial Room for late lunch. An hour passes and still Rumple hasn’t come up. Gid has taken note of the pool and is begging for a swim, so she dresses him in his trunks, puts on her own modest suit and a robe, leaves Rumple a note and takes her boy down to the pool. While he splashes about, she relaxes in the hot tub until her gurgling stomach reminds her that, by Eastern Daylight Time, it’s nearly suppertime. “Hungry yet, Gid?”

“Yeah. Can I have pizza?” He pulls himself out of the pool and stands over her, intentionally dripping cold water on her.

“Gid! Stop that.” Reluctantly she parts company with the hot tub. “Let’s go up to the room and change. I’ll bet your dad’s there, conked out on the couch, remote control in his hand.”

Gideon giggles. That vision is permanently etched in his memory; it’s a favorite of his, Rumplestiltskin as only two people have ever seen him. Mother and son patter in their flip flops up to the suite, doing their best not to drip on the marble floor.

Rumple is there, as predicted, but he’s not napping. Or watching TV. Or any of the other little things he does to relax. He’s standing in the narrow hallway between the living room and the bedroom. Framed photos of Roy, along with a painting of a bucking bronco, line the western wall, but it’s not these he’s looking at; it’s the mirror across from them. An ordinary, framed mirror.

As Belle approaches, her shoes slapping against the wood floor, he doesn’t budge. In fact, not a hair on his head twitches. He just stares into that mirror.

Two things bother Belle about this sight: one, her husband has a distinct aversion to mirrors. Always has, and not just because of Regina; he’s always disliked his appearance, and as years went by and guilt piled upon guilt for all the wrongs he’d done, he’d reached a point where he could barely look himself in the eye.

Two, Rumple is talking. Low tones, soothing tones—and though he’s been known to mutter to himself when he’s tired or frustrated, he’s definitely not talking to himself now. He’s referring to his listener as “dearie” and he’s asking questions that one might consider ordinary, polite conversation—if there was another person in the room to converse with. And he’s pausing to listen for an answer.

A dripping Gideon at her side, she hesitates on the threshold between the living room and the hall. She’s seen her husband completely absorbed in an experiment before and she certainly knows what it’s like to lose oneself in a book, so deeply that all sense of time and space are momentarily warped. She’s seen him in that restful trance that spinning produces for him. But this is none of those. He’s carrying on a conversation with a mirror. If this were Storybrooke or Misthaven, she’d assume he was simply using the “mirror phone” spell to communicate with another sorcerer, but this is San Antonio, Texas, in the Land Without Magic.

So she waits and watches until a hungry Gid makes an impatient sound and goes around her, headed for the bedroom. He’s not disturbed by his father’s bizarre actions: he’s grown up with them. He brushes past Rumple with a “Yo, Pop” and trots into the bedroom. In a minute Belle can hear a grunt and the squeak of the wheels on Gid’s suitcase, then onto one of the beds shirts and pairs of jeans come flying. “Mom! D’ya want me to dress up?”

Rumple tears himself away from his conversation just long enough for a hasty glance at Belle. “Just a moment, sweetheart. He started talking to me in the lobby mirror, so—yes, Captain?” He resumes his conversation with the mirror. He seems well enough, calm and safe, and when it comes to magic he almost always knows what he’s doing, so she decides to leave him be for now. She eases past him and into the bedroom. “You know, it’s only five o’clock. We should grab a quick bite and get in a little sightseeing before dark. Put on your jeans.”

Gid lets his wet swim trunks fall to the floor; Belle scoops them up to hang up in the bathroom. “Ripley’s?”

“Of course.” Belle tosses a towel at him. “It’s open until 11.”

He scrubs his goose-pimpled body dry. He’s lean, like his father, but he’s long-muscled and the tallest in his class at school and in another year he’ll overtake his mother. He likes to boast that he’s built for basketball. He can recite the stats for the Celtics’ entire starting five, but judiciously, today he chooses to wear a Spurs t-shirt that they picked up at the World’s Largest Convenience Store in New Braunfels. Before Belle has a chance to unpack her suitcase, he’s already dressed and has flopped onto his bed, Game Boy in hand. “Mom, is it okay if I have something from the mini-fridge?”

“Something small. Some nuts would be okay. I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes,” she calls from the bathroom.

Gid peers into the hallway to check the status of his father. “Is Dad coming with us?”

“We’ll see. He seems to be busy.”

“Sorry about that.” Rumple moves into the bedroom, sits down on Gid’s bed and pats his boy’s foot apologetically. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Gid shrugs. “Had to wait for Mom anyway.”

Still in the hotel bathrobe, Belle opens the bathroom door a crack and peeks out, hairbrush in hand. “Rumple? What were you doing?”

“Well,” he sort of chuckles, but it’s a puzzled sound. “I guess you could say I made a friend.”

“A sorcerer?”

“A spirit. Seems your guidebooks are right: there are a lot of them in this hotel. I felt them as soon as I got out of the car. My friend isn’t sure how many; they tend to come and go, he said.”

Gid tosses his Game Boy aside and sits up. “A ghost?”

“But don’t call them that. They consider it derogatory. They call themselves ‘spirits’ or ‘unanchored souls.’ I’ve known a few in my time, but not well: they’re difficult to do business with. Their memories aren’t dependable.”

“Who was this one?”

“He said he was a rancher. He owned a big spread along the Nueces Strip, he said. He lived in this hotel for a while; they named a suite after him, the one at the other end of the hall. That’s where he usually hangs out, but when he realized the Dark One was in the house… .” Rumple shrugs.

“Can I talk to him?”

“He’s gone now, but perhaps later, we could try.” Rumple and Belle exchange a look that says we’ll have to discuss this in private. They know, from his previous incarnation, that Gid has the capacity for magic, but the boy has yet to exhibit any skills in that regard. Not unusual: he’s got a lot more growing to do. Gid doesn’t mind waiting for his magic to manifest, he says. He’s seen how much study and strain are involved in successfully casting even simple spells. He’d rather play basketball.

“Did he know Teddy Roosevelt?” Belle can’t help but ask. American history fascinates her, the bigness, the wildness of it all.

“We can ask him.” Rumple is encouraged by his wife’s curiosity. Perhaps she won’t be too upset if Gid converses with the spirits too. With that small victory, it’s time to change the subject. He claps his hands. “Well now! Who’s up for a trip to Ripley’s?”

It’s after eleven when they trudge back to the hotel; Gid is half-asleep and glances longingly at his father’s shoulder. In the old days, this late at night, Dad would have carried him, letting his doze. As much as Gid looks forward to growing up, sometimes he longs for the good old days.

Though it’s dark, the plaza is well lit and still fairly busy with tourists spilling out of the attractions that have now closed their doors. Most of the families have left the streets, and now the young adults have emerged, many of them in stiff new Navy and Air Force uniforms. There’s a USO in the vicinity, along with plenty of bars from which music and the smell of beer spill out. The tavern owners seem to have a preference for the UK, with names like “Mad Dog British Pub” and “Pat O’Brien’s,” but Rumple suspects they all sell Lone Star beer and barbeque wings.

They’ve been to Ripley’s (smaller than expected, but Gid loved the shrunken heads), the Guinness World Records Museum (Gid tried to break the record for the loudest scream), and the Plaza Wax Museum (Belle posed for pictures with Indiana Jones and Abraham Lincoln; Gid pretended to box with Rocky). They shot laser guns at monsters in the Tomb Rider, but Belle put the kibosh on entering the Haunted Adventure (too scary for a ten-year-old, she claimed; when Gid started to argue that they were sleeping in a hotel occupied by real spirits, Rumple shook his head fiercely). For Rumple’s sake, they browse the Buckhorn Museum, part of which houses a Texas Rangers collection; the rest contains stuffed creatures, ranging from the local, such as deer and a longhorn, to the exotic, including a gorilla and a polar bear. Though Belle, too squeamish to tour the taxidermied wildlife, waited in saloon, sipping a Prickly Pear margarita, Gid was treated to more shrunken heads, a peanut-sized elephant, and other oddities. They At Moses Rose’s Hideout Gid orders the “Damn Good Fries,” relishing the fact that he’s getting away with a cuss word—besides, Mom is distracted because Dad’s got that faraway look again. “Another spirit,” he whispers to her. “Over there. In front of the men’s room.”

“And I thought all we’d find here were cowboys and Miss America winners.”

“I won’t let him spoil our dinner.” Rumple assures her, then smiles up at the server and places his order.

After dinner, they stroll through the plaza, then stop at a street cart to buy raspas. It’s been a fun trip so far for everyone—though it seems clear to Belle that even here, where Rumple’s only power is in his credit cards, he’s going to pestered by magic-seekers. They wrap up a very busy day with a soothing barge ride down the San Antonio River.

When the tour guide’s back is turned, Gid leans out of the barge to trail his fingers in the water. “Gid,” Rumple warns, yanking him back. His grasp on Gid’s dripping hand suddenly loosens and Rumple murmurs something Belle can’t quite hear. “What’s that, darling?”

Rumple’s brow creases. “I feel something… a power… .” He shakes the thought off. “Just my imagination, I’m sure. Never mind.” He slides an arm around her and they enjoy the colorful shore lights, the gentle movement of the barge, the soft warm breeze and each other. It’s so relaxing that Belle closes her eyes, but it’s Gid who falls asleep. Rumple has to carry him back to the hotel.

“My turn tomorrow,” Belle whispers as Rumple eases Gid onto his bed. They have to pull his sneakers off, but they leave him dressed.

“Something quiet, I hope?”

“I hope your new friends will be quiet tonight. You’ve had a long, busy day.” She kisses him before retreating to the bathtub.

—————————-

Pale sunlight ekes in through the open balcony doors as Belle, awakened by music from the TV, hauls herself out of bed. She’s never been a morning person, and after last night her muscles are sore and her joints are stiff. She pulls on her robe and joins her husband on the balcony. He’s barefoot but already dressed—jeans and a plain white t-shirt that make him look so scrumptious that Belle would like to drag him back in and throw him on the bed, if not for the boy watching TV in the living room. Rumple is watching the city come awake: trolley cars and Lexuses battle it out with jaywalkers dressed in everything from board shorts to business suits. He’s made a game of it, during their travels: guessing the salaries by the suits. She approaches from behind, slips her arms around his waist. “Did you sleep well?”

He nods. “The captain came back. In the bathroom mirror.”

“Is there… reason to be concerned?” She’s holding her breath. Please, no; let them have this time to enjoy themselves and make a pleasant family memory. In Storybrooke they had enough trouble to last a lifetime.

“No.” He turns in her arms and kisses her forehead. “He’s just a gregarious guy. Likes to brag about that spread of his. The King Ranch. Over a thousand square miles, he claims. Cuts across six counties. But I have my doubts. Spirits are notoriously unreliable. Very entertaining to talk to, though.”

“King.” She ponders. “Is his first name Richard?”

“He didn’t say.”

“You said there was a suite named after him. There’s a King Ranch Suite down the hall, room 2052 named for a steamboat pilot. He’s the real deal, Rumple. An important historical figure.” She pauses. “I’d like to meet him. He’s sure to have a wealth of colorful stories about the 1800s.”

“I bet he’d like that. He’s lonesome. Most people shriek when he makes an appearance. Are we going to let Gid talk to him too?”

“Let’s decide after I do.”

Rumple steps back inside the bedroom and closes the balcony doors. “Gid’s already had breakfast—I took him down to hotel restaurant. But that was two hours ago, so knowing him—”

“Knowing him and his bottomless pit stomach.” She takes pride in that: the boy can scarf up an entire medium pizza by himself. He eats like a kid with nothing to worry about and he sleeps the sleep of the innocent. As it should be. As they’re careful to make sure it will always be, after what he was subjected to, in his previous life. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go down.”

Belle has educational activities on the itinerary. Gid is allowed to take his Game Boy; it will help stretch out his patience over the course of a day of grown-up stuff. After breakfast they catch a hop-on, hop-off trolley tour that brings them to Hemisfair Park, where they walk through the Institute of Texan Cultures, which, thankfully, has plenty of hands-on activities to teach kids about everyday life for the earliest Texans. Then they take an elevator to the top of the Tower of the Americas for a 750-foot view of the city and an early seafood lunch in a revolving restaurant (Gid makes a game of sending salt and pepper shakers around the room by placing them on the small ledge beneath the windows. As the wall of windows revolves, the shakers travel along with it, making other diners chuckle.)

Departing the Hemisfair, the trolley makes a sweep of the four missions that mark the beginnings of San Antonio, all the way back to 1720. “Can you imagine the courage it took for those priests to come out here from Spain?” Belle gushes. They stroll the artists’ shops and eat breakfast tacos at La Villita before taking the trolley back toward the center of town. They hop off at the stately San Fernando Cathedral, where, it’s said, the ashes of William Travis and Davy Crockett are interred. (Rumple is able to verify this claim: more ghosts than in the Menger reside here, he discovers. “So many of them want someone to talk to,” he shivers, despite the 104 degree heat. “So many of them have forgotten how to talk.”) The cathedral, nearly three hundred years old, is reassuring in its quiet strength, Belle whispers; “Individuals come and go, nations pass, but this cathedral will live on. What a worthy place to pray.” They stay in the cool quiet of the structure for nearly an hour, until Gid grows restless.

From there they catch a city bus to “the piece de resistance,” according to Belle: the six-story Central Library. They’ve seen larger, but, as Rumple remarks, they’ve never seen redder; in a librarian-led tour of the building, they learn the locals have nicknamed the building “The Red Enchilada.” An entire floor is dedicated to the children’s collection; while Gid admires the life-size mosaic cow, created by a high school art class, Belle chats a while at the service desk, stealing ideas for programs.

The first and second floors, they discover, provide an unspoken refuge for the homeless. With their bedrolls and backpacks at their feet, they peruse newspapers and network on the public computers from opening to closing time. “Where do they go after closing?” Belle whispers to a librarian at the Reference Desk.

“Some of them go to a nearby shelter called Haven for Hope. Some of them… .” the librarian looks across his desk at a tall, white-haired man wearing high top sneakers. “Some of them don’t.”

“They… sleep on the streets?”

“In doorways, alleys, the steps of the church across the street, when they can get away with it. They’re waiting for us when we come into work everyday. We know most of them by name. We help them when we can: teach them to use the computers, help them write resumes, refer them to places they can shower and wash their clothes. It’s a hard life.”

“Hard on you too, I suppose.”

The librarian nods. “Especially when they don’t come back.”

Walking back to the bus stop, Belle links her arm through Rumple’s and draws up close to him. “Remind me, next time I complain about Regina cutting my budget.”

As the bus pulls up, Rumple looks back. He’s experienced homelessness several times in his long life, as recently as 2015. He’s never figured out why, in a land as powerful as this one, that particular curse hasn’t been broken.

“Dad, we have money.”

“Yes,” he assures Gid. “We’ll always have a place to live.”

“No, but I mean, we have more than we need.”

“I see.” Tonight, safe in their luxury suite, the Golds will sit down together and write out a check to Haven for Hope.

“I think we’re ready for the Alamo,” Belle says quietly.

As soon as they set foot inside the cross-shaped limestone structure, Rumple goes quiet, his body rigid and still. Belle leans into him, silently inquiring; he startles, then glanced down at her. “Spirits?” she whispers. He nods. “Hundreds. And they all want to be heard.”

“Good morning. My name is Anna Shulman. I’ll be your guide as we tour the Mission San Antonio de Valero, commonly known as the Alamo.” They’re being led by a sweet little grandma—who has a knack for describing events in such vivid detail that Belle and Rumple both shiver. Their guide smiles at each of her charges in turn. Gid grins back at her—he’s got a soft spot for little old ladies, since he lacks grandparents of his own. Old folks turn him to mush.

The high arches of the limestone fort are cathedral-like, Belle observes; the tour guide remarks, “As befitting the men who defended it.” She proceeds to fill the tourists in on the background: in the 18th and early 19th centuries, the land that now makes up Texas was owned by Spain, but in an effort to make it profitable, Spain invited American settlers, some of whom owned slaves, to move in. In 1821, Mexico won its war for independence from Spain and thereby gained possession of Texas. The Texians, as the former Americans were called, were expected to free any slaves they owned, swear allegiance to Mexico, and join the Catholic Church, but in such a vast and unsettled land, those rules were difficult to enforce. Arguments and skirmishes ensued between the Mexican government and the Texians over cultural differences and political and economic disputes. Led by Benjamin Milam and George Collinsworth, the Texians stormed the Alamo, where a Mexican garrison was headquartered, and they won; they gained control of San Antonio—temporarily, until Mexico sent in more troops. Under the leadership of Jim Bowie and William Travis, the defenders hunkered down, determined to hold the fort, despite a huge disparity in numbers: 200 to 1600. Mexican forces pounded relentlessly over the course of thirteen days until they finally broke through, reclaiming the fort and killing nearly all the occupants.

As the guide leads them through the fragmented shrine, Belle notices that both of her boys are struggling to pay attention. She understands their reasons: to a ten-year-old, anything that happened more than a week ago is ancient history, so the politics behind the Texas Revolution have no meaning to him—he becomes more involved in the lecture when the guide describes the 13-day battle. Rumple, meanwhile, is switching back and forth between voices competing for his attention. Tonight, after Gideon is sound asleep, he will relay as much as he can sort out and remember from those speakers. Belle will not be alarmed; she has become used to the inconveniences that a sorcerer, even one on vacation in the Land Without Magic, has to put up with.

As for Belle herself, her skin grows cold and her heart leaps into her throat as she listens to the details of those thirteen days of siege. She has to wipe her eyes as Ms. Shulman relates the story of one of the few survivors, a woman named Susanna Dickinson. On the final day of the siege, Susanna took refuge in the chapel with her fifteen-month-old daughter and other women and children. As bugles blared and cannon fired, Susanna’s husband burst into the sacristy just long enough for a last kiss: “Great God, Sue, the Mexicans are inside our walls! If they spare you, save my child!” And then he was gone. Ms. Shulman concludes, “General Santa Anna allowed Mrs. Dickinson and her daughter Angela to go free, expecting that the report Susanna would give would frighten the Texians into ending the insurrection. But her report, along with that of other survivors, only fueled the revolution. When the armies met again a month later in San Jacinto, the rallying cry ��Remember the Alamo’ gave the Texians the strength they needed to win.”

Belle has to know: “What happened to Susanna?”

“A series of troubled marriages, but eventually she set up a boarding house in Lockhart, and there she met a wealthy businessman who fell in love with her cooking. They lived happily together until her death at age 68.”

Belle takes a little comfort from that, but still, she shudders as they silently troop through the sacristy. She’d been through the exact same terror when ogres invaded the Marshlands, uprooted crops, smashed houses, ate cattle and sheep whole, and tore humans limb from limb. Village by village they stormed across the kingdom until Marshland troops made a stand at the capital city. For six days Avonlea was pounded, its children hiding in caves and cellars, its women and elderly making arms of farm tools, its men being plucked from battlements and ripped into unidentifiable body parts.

Until the Dark One answered the princess’ call and made, what was for him, an uncharacteristically whimsical deal. Belle glances up at her distracted husband and suddenly she knows he’s going to do it again: he’s going to make an uncharacteristic deal to rescue souls under siege. And she’s going to help him. Proudly.

He’s not just quiet through the rest of the tour; he’s absolutely silent. Throughout their window-shopping stroll of the Rivercenter Mall (“it reminds me of Agrabah’s marketplace,” Belle says) and their wanderings through the Briscoe Western Art Museum, he’s silent. When they take seats at a riverside table at Boudro’s Bistro, she has to order for both of them (the restaurant’s signature guacamole); he seems oblivious to the wait staff’s presence. She gives Rumple his space, keeping Gid occupied with casual chatter, then after dinner she rewards the child for his day of patience by treating him to a visit to the dinosaur gallery at the Witte Museum.

It’s after he’s changed into his pajamas that Gid addresses the elephant in the room: “What’s up with Dad?”

“I’m not sure,” Belle admits. “Something to do with magic.”

“Oh.” That’s all Gid says; that was all Belle needed to say. Gid’s been exposed to all sorts of magic, all of his life; it’s one of the reasons his parents decided to bring him out into this world, so that he could see that not everyone lives with magic—not everyone needs it. Rumple’s only regret in this decision was that he hadn’t done the same for Bae.

When Gid is asleep, Rumple finally speaks. “There was so many at the Alamo, a hundred voices. But one… .It’s time for me to talk to Captain King. Will you join me?”

“Of course.” Over the years, they’ve become in a sense partners in magic, studying and experimenting together. It took a long time for him to allow her into that world; magic had driven a wedge between them before, and even after he learned that it was his destiny to unite dark and light powers, he was slow to trust that magic wouldn’t scare her away again. It was the many times they’d been separated—Neverland, Zelena, the Underworld—and the heroes had turned to Belle as a sort of substitute expert in the academic side of magic that had initiated the change, but it was in raising Gideon, a child with innate powers, that the Golds let magic unite them. They had no choice then, they realized; Belle had to accept Gid’s true nature and help guide him in learning how to control his magic, so the more that Rumple taught her, the happier and safer they would all be.

She takes his hand as he closes the bedroom door, shutting off the hall from the sleeping Gideon. Rumple draws in a breath, smiles encouragingly at her, then positions them both in front of the hall mirror. He calls a name: “Captain King.” Immediately the visage of a broad-faced, cigar-chewing gent shimmers and comes into clarity in the mirror. He exudes confidence to the point of bluster, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes that promises tales to tell and a glint that assures the listener he can back up his boasts. He dresses to impress, in a string tie and a suit that Belle suspects is the 19th-century equivalent of Dolce & Gabbana. She can see why Rumple has taken to him.

“Good evening, Mr. Gold.” The voice is velvety and warms with charm as the captain observes, “Ah, you’ve brought your lovely wife with you!”

“Captain, this is Belle. Belle, this is Captain Richard King.”

The captain ducks his bushy head in a bow. “Madame, good evening. Delighted to meet you.”

“Good evening, sir. I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Captain, as much as we’d love to just chat and get acquainted—”

“Yes, Mr. Gold, we have business to transact.” King draws himself up; Belle’s seen her husband assume this same pose. She calls it “the deal making stance.” “I understand you’ve been visited to the point of pestering by some of my cohorts here in the hotel.”

“A few, yes. Some seem deeply troubled.”

“So many of them were victims of violence.” The captain’s voice grows heavy. “A few, at the hands of people they loved. Shock, grief, or a yearning for revenge keeps some of them here.”

“We visited the Alamo today,” Belle volunteers.

“Oh, of course.” King falls silent for a long moment, closing his eyes. “That is where you’ll find the most of our kind. Confusion over their state—they have yet to accept that they’ve died—and a fierce determination to protect the Alamo against invaders forever bind them to Earth. They are adrift in time, you see. For them, the siege continues and always will.”

“Can’t we help them?”

“It’s generous of you, madame, but not if they don’t want to be helped. For most, they don’t want to accept the truth.”

Rumple is thoughtful. “And you, Captain? Why do you remain here?”

“This is where I’m happiest. This vast and rich land, which I helped to tame, and which gave me a reason to be; I don’t want to leave it. I am Texas, through and through. The time will come, I’m sure, when the summons to Heaven is more than I can resist, but not yet. Not yet.” The captain drifts off a moment; Belle suspects he’s dreaming of the past.

“There was one, a man named Moses Rose,” Rumple says.

“I’ve heard of him,” King glances at Belle. “Pardon, madame. His name—rightly or wrongly—is cursed in this state. ‘The Coward of the Alamo,’ he’s called.”

The blood drains from Belle’s face. She looks to Rumple, who’s staring at the carpet, his mouth stretched tight. His thumb is rubbing against his forefinger.

“It’s said that the day before the final battle, Colonel Travis warned his comrades that the end was near. He drew out his sword and slashed a line in the sand and said, ‘I now want every man who is determined to stay here and die with me to come across this line.’ They all did, but one. When darkness fell, Moses Rose managed to escape through town. He lived another fifteen years or so.”

“But he came back after death, to stand with the others who continue to defend the Alamo to this day,” Rumple snaps. He’s taking history a little personally, but Belle understands why.

“So he did,” King agrees. “The facts of his story are known to only a few on this side of the veil.”

Belle is about to ask whether King can call forth a spirit who would know those facts, but a hasty glance at her husband makes her realize the facts don’t really matter. The truth is bigger than the sum of the facts, and regardless, Rumple has been asked for his help, and for a change, he wants to give it. Freely.

“He said the revolution for him is finally over; he’s ready to face his final battle. He wants to move on, but he can’t find the way.”

“The Dark One can lead him to the afterlife,” Belle informs King. “He’s done so before.”

“One problem, sweetheart: opening a portal to the Underworld requires a tremendous amount of magic.”

“And we’re in a Land Without,” Belle concludes.

“Not quite,” the captain leans back, proud to announce he has the solution. “You’re in San Antonio. A modern, multicultural metropolis, yes, but at its heart, deep, deep in its heart, it has not forgotten the old ways. It wasn’t just land barons and cowboys that founded this city. It was the children of a very old culture that believed in magic. Amid the bankers and software writers, you’ll find a few genuine curanderos, practitioners of healing arts. Part magic, part religion, part botanical science, and all faith. Find a curandero and you’ll find your magic supply.”

“Do curanderos advertise?” Belle wonders.

“Shops,” Rumple suggests. “They will have shops, if they’re actively practicing their art. If they aren’t— ” he shrugs. “They probably will know nothing that can help me.”

“I’ll search the Internet, you can talk to the concierge,” Belle surmises. “First thing in the morning, we’ll start working through our list.” She starts to walk into the sitting room.

King clears his throat to get their attention. “Pardon, madame, Dark One, but there are so many others, more deserving, your magic could help.”

“You, Captain?” Rumple raises an eyebrow.

“No, no, I’m quite happy here. But Moses Rose—let me ask you, Dark One, I’ve heard it said, there is always a price for magic. I fear that you and your lovely family will be the ones required to pay it. Is a coward worth it?”

Belle scowls into the mirror. “I’ve learned that most so-called ‘cowards’ and ‘villains’ are not what they seem. You can’t truly know a person until you’ve looked into his heart.”

Rumple raises his chin. “Even a coward deserves a second chance, Captain King.”

—————————————————————-

But as they drop onto the parlor couch after completing their research, Rumple ponders, “Belle, perhaps the captain has a point. Maybe I should send you and Gid on ahead, out of Texas, out the line of fire, if there is any.”

She presses her lips together; it’s the look Rumple calls her “stubborn-as-a-rock face.” He usually loses the arguments that start with that face. But before she can fashion her response, he reminds her, “We have to keep Gid safe.”

Her mouth twitches. That means she’s reconsidering, though she’s aggrieved by her new thoughts. “You could take the car, start out for Canada; I can catch up in a day or— ”

“Papa? Mama?”

Their heads shoot up from their lists. Gid, in his sleep pants and Celtics shirt, is standing in the hallway. Belle and Rumple exchange a worried look: he hasn’t called them “papa” and “mama” in years. He claims he’s too old for that, along with bedtime stories and tuck-ins. Both parents clamber to their feet and rush forward.

“What’s wrong, son?” “Gid? Don’t you feel well?”

“There’s a kid in the bathroom.”

________________________________

Belle leans over the sink and squints into the mirror, but she sees nothing, but she trusts her son and after meeting her first ghost just minutes ago, she’s sold on the idea that the Menger is inhabited by ghosts. That’s what she’s telling herself, anyway, as she shifts from side to side in an attempt to catch different views by changing her angle of vision. “Is he—she—still there?”

“He.” Gid peeks around from behind her. “He’s gone.” As Belle steps back, Gid huffs, “Well, he was here.”

“I believe you.” She rests her hand on his shoulder. “Your father and I were just speaking to a spirit.”

“Yeah?” Gid is relieved. Any other kid would find this news alarming, but he’s pleased to have his ghost encounter verified. Gid’s used to being unlike any other kid; after all, his parents are the Dark One and the Dark Lady, his grandparents included a fairy and Peter Pan, and his best buddy is the son of Prince Charming and Snow White. Gid would feel weird if he didn’t have strange experiences. He turns around and searches the bedroom. “Where is it?”

“Gone now.”

“Uhm, Belle… .” Rumple is pointing into the bathroom mirror. “It’s okay. You’re welcome here,” he says softly into the mirror.

Her hand on his back to support herself, Belle leans across the sink again. Looking back at her is a boy about Gid’s size, except he’s dressed in a loose gray shirt and brown trousers held up with suspenders. He needs a haircut and a wash, Belle notices—then chides herself for thinking like a modern mother. “Hello,” she softens her voice. “My name is Belle. What’s yours?”

“Ben.” The boy’s voice squeaks; he’s going through the vocal changes of puberty. Or, rather, would have been at the time of his…

“How can we help you, Ben?” Belle longs to reach out and smooth down the sweat-matted hair, but she folds her hands in front of her, offering the boy a signal of non-aggression.

“I was askin’ him.” The boy’s chin juts toward Gid. “You seen my brother?”

“I don’t believe so,” Belle answers. “What’s he look like?”

“Shorter than me. He’s eleven.” Ben straightens his shoulders. “I’m twelve. Our pa’s a gunnery man.”

“What’s your father’s name?” Rumple asks.

“Anthony. They killed him.”

“Is he with you?”

Ben lowers his head shamefully. “I ain’t gone lookin’ for him yet. Cain’t, not til I find Michael. He’ll wail me for sure. I was suppose’ to take care o’ him.”

Rumple chooses his words carefully. “Where did you last see Michael?”

The boy’s face scrunches up. “I can’t remember.”

“What was he doing?”

Ben’s eyes widen with horror and his mouth falls open for just a moment, then he vanishes. With a deep sigh, Rumple turns from the mirror.

“He asked me the same thing, to find his brother. He says the last thing his father said was to take care of Michael,” Gid explains, wringing his hands in his Celtics shirt. “He thinks his father hates him now.”

Belle slides a comforting arm around Gid’s shoulders and leads him into the sitting room. “Let’s see what we can find out, shall we?”

As they flop down on the couch and Belle reaches for her iPad, Gid smiles. Research—that’s Mom’s go-to answer for most problems and she’s nearly always right. Between her, with the Internet and books, and Dad, with his basement lab, they can almost always solve a problem. Gid even smirks a little. His parents maybe can’t shoot an arrow or toss around a sword like Neal’s, but they’re the smartest people in Storybrooke. Even Neal says so. In the hallway, Dad’s staring into that mirror again and there’s a low-toned conversation going on between Dad and that other ghost. Somehow Gid finds that reassuring.

“Here’s a start: Handbook of Texas.” Belle’s eyes dart over the column, then she looks up at Gid unblinking, which Gid knows means she’s got something she doesn’t want to tell him.

He tries to look at the Ipad sitting on her knee. “Mom, you can tell me. I already know he’s dead. It’s kinda obvious.” He manages to glimpse the word bayonet before she shuts the Ipad off.

“Ben and Michael and their father were all killed in the final attack on the Alamo.”

Rumple seats himself in one of the leather-backed wooden chairs. “Richard tells me there is no eleven-year-old boy among the Alamo spirits remaining on this side of the veil. Nor is there anyone answering to the name Wolf. The simple answer is the most likely one: Anthony and Michael Wolf moved on, perhaps immediately after their death.”

“Perhaps they’re searching for Ben in the Underworld.” Belle sets the Ipad aside. “Ben’s sense of responsibility must have kept him on this side. That’s what he meant when he said he wouldn’t go looking for his father until he found Michael first.”

“It seems I’ll have one more passenger to escort to the Underworld.” Rumple muses.

“You’re going to help Ben find his brother? Thanks, Dad!” Gid leaps to his feet. “Can I tell him?”

Rumple exchanges a questioning glance with Belle, who nods. “Go. But then we all need some sleep. We have to search for a magic man tomorrow.”

—————————————————————

Rumple looks up from the iPad as Belle comes in from the bedroom. “Is he asleep?” At her nod, he speculates, “He might have a nightmare or two tonight. Those were some heavy-duty stories we heard today.”

“I think he’ll be fine. He was jabbering about LaBron James while he was falling asleep.”

“He has your courage.”

“He’s a product of this world as much as he is of you and me. Another eight years and we’ll lose him to it, you know.”

Rumple shrugs. “We’ll just follow him out into it. Isn’t that what this vacation is really for, to see if you and I can adapt out here, away from Storybrooke?”

“And yet we can’t seem to escape the call of magic,” Belle grins wryly.

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing.” Rumple tests the thought. “Maybe I won’t have to give it up entirely, when we become citizens of this world.”

“You’d really give up magic, so we can stay close Gid?”

“I won’t let go of his hand.” There’s an ancient pain in his eyes that will never completely fade. “Not for any price.”

Belle curls up on the couch next to her husband, laying her head against his shoulder. “What were you reading?”

“About Richard King. You’re right; he’s the real deal. An indentured servant at age eleven, til he ran away and stowed aboard a ship. The crew found him, let him stay, started teaching him, and before long, he had a ship of his own transporting military supplies, and a monopoly on Rio Grande. Went from that to buying up land and breeding cattle. Part visionary, part speculator, part manipulator, completely self-made.”

“A little like you.”She yawns. “Though a whole lot more loquacious. I’ve been thinking about Ben Wolf. How sad it is, to die so young. And how powerful family ties are, that he would remain here, searching nearly three hundred years for his brother.”

“Aye.”

“If his brother is on the other side, will they find each other?”

“I’ve no doubt. Arthur will make sure of it.”

She clutches his hands in hers. “When the time comes, you’ll find Bae on the other side.”

“He’s in the Land of Heroes. Whether I’ll be allowed in, after all I’ve done… .”

“You are a hero, Rumple. And there’s so much more left you’ll do before it’s time for you to pass through.”

He presses his cheek against the top of her head.

————————————————————————

They’ve debated whether this is a good idea; it’s just another chapter in their ongoing debate about how much magic Gid should be exposed to. Interestingly enough, it’s been Belle who has pretty consistently argued in favor of expanding Gid’s education in this regard; after a period of doubt in his infant years, she eventually came to terms with the fact that her son would grow up to be a sorcerer. Whether he chose to use that part of his nature or not, he should learn about it, be prepared for the dangers as well as the benefits. Rumple has been of a mind that the less the boy knew, the less tempted he would be to “tinker.” When pressed, he would admit the truth: he was afraid Gid would be tempted down the dark path.

But, as he relents in this argument, curanderos practice light magic. If, indeed, there are any real mages left in San Antonio. So it is that Gid is packed into the back of the Caddy, and with Belle in the navigator’s seat and Rumple driving (and muttering his trademark “Use your friggin’ turn signal, Sheep-Dip-for-Brains”), they set out to find a genuine spiritual healer. Their list takes them to unexpected places: a strip mall in the northeast part of the city, then to a cluster of boutique shops in the neighborhood the locals call “the 09,” where Belle supposes this world’s princesses shop. Then it’s to expected places, wandering the worn streets of the West side, where next door to barber shops, car washes and churches, psychics hold court in their living rooms. They needn’t have worried about Gid: bored, he occupies himself with his Game Boy. Besides, as Rumple is quick to report, there’s no magic here. He doesn’t even have to go inside a shop to know it’s a fake; he can smell it. “After three hundred years, I can detect the scent from a block away.”

“What does it smell like?” Belle muses. She’s expecting something exotic, like “the breath of a unicorn in winter” or something enticing, like chocolate.

“Burning leaves and the hair of wet, muddy sheepdogs.”

They scour the West side, stopping at a taqueria for lunch. They’re at the last entry on their lists and Gid is pressing them to give up for the day and go to Splashtown when a soft voice interrupts, “Excuse me. Maybe I can help.” They both look up at their waitress, who’s setting glasses of tea and soda on their table. “Is your son sick?”

“No, he’s fine,” Belle assures her.

“Another in your family?” She nods at Belle’s list, headed with bold capital letters. “Not to be nosy, but you’re looking for a curandero.”

Belle and Rumple exchange worried looks. What would happen if they admitted to a stranger, whose name they don’t even know, that the Dark One is seeking a source of magic so he can open a portal to the Underworld and send two ghosts there?

“We are,” Rumple admits. “For two friends who are…not where they should be. Who need to go home.”

She offers a faint crooked smile. “To somewhere a Greyhound ticket can’t take them, I suppose?”

“Can you help us?”

“My aunt can.”

———————————————————-

They’ve just finished their beef fajitas when Leticia returns with a fortyish woman in a Laura Ashley skirt and blouse at her elbow. Rumple rises, and as soon as he collects his manners, Gid does too. The newcomer’s dark hair is cut in a pageboy that shows off her sharp cheekbones and her pearl earrings. Her eyes are a bright blue, like Belle’s. Belle would have guessed her to be the manager of a Riverwalk gift shop or an ‘09 boutique, not a curandera—but then, the stylish witches and warlocks she’d met over the years had shown her not to expect stereotypes. As she begins to pick up the dirty dishes, the waitress identifies her guest. “Mr. and Mrs. Gold, this is my aunt, Consuelo Leal. Aunt Connie, this–”

Leticia doesn’t get to finish her introduction—doesn’t need to. Connie Leal’s lips part in amazement, then her head cocks, then she blinks herself back to awareness and offers her hand. “I am stunned. It’s a… . rare opportunity to meet the Dark One.”

Rumple grins and offers a similar greeting that no one hears over the clatter of a plate that Leticia drops. “The Dark… .” The waitress echoes faintly. “Oh my god.”

Other diners and waitstaff swing around to stare at the source of the disturbance. Belle slides out of her seat and kneels, picking up the broken pieces of plate. Red-faced, Leticia kneels too, taking the pieces from Belle. “Oh, ma’am, let me get that. Here, Jorge’s coming with a broom.” Still flustered, Leticia gathers the remaining plates and hurries into the kitchen with them as a young man in an apron brushes up the shards.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” Connie suggests, looking around. “The party room.” She sweeps her hand in the direction of a space curtained off from the main dining room. She escorts them in, flicks the lights on and invites them to be seated; for herself she selects a chair at the head of the table. Gid leaps to the fore, pulling out a chair for her as Rumple does the same for Belle. “Very good, son,” Belle murmurs. When they’re all seated, Rumple begins, “We’ve searched this city for a genuine curandero. Obviously we’ve found one.” His nose twitches slightly; later, he admits to Belle, he’s smelled chocolateand cinnamon—the scent of light magic—on Connie’s blouse.

“Curandera,” she corrects mildly.

“Apologies. I can see the magic surrounding you.”

“It hasn’t always been a blessing, though I’ve tried to use it that way. You, however—“

“No, that’s true; for too many years I used my magic for selfish purposes. But today, I’m asking for help on behalf of someone else. I hope that, knowing that, you’ll consent to assisting me.”

“I see your magic around you too.” She falls quiet for a moment, then admits, “It’s very confusing. I see light magic in the Dark One.”

“I was fated for light magic, but I was set off course. I’ve struggled to get back.” He glances guiltily at Belle, who clasps his hand. “I don’t always succeed.”

“Tell me what you want.”

He sits back in his chair, a sign that he’s comfortable, that he trusts her; he’s not often like that with strangers, and that simple gesture sells Belle on trusting this woman too. She smiles her thanks at Connie, grateful that at least, their plea will be heard.

“We have been approached,” Rumple begins. “Two souls who want to go home but can’t find their way. They’ve been on this side of the veil too long, can’t remember where to go.” At her encouraging nod, he gets a little more specific: “They are waiting at the Alamo.”

“Ohhh.” She fiddles with a salt shaker.

“You’ve been approached too, haven’t you?” Belle guesses.

“More than once,” Connie admits. “It’s why I hardly ever go downtown any more. I can’t do anything for them. I can heal bodies, relieve anxiety, but that—” she shakes her head.

“I can lift the veil.”

Connie gasps. “I’ve read that it’s possible, but—I thought only Merlin had power like that.”

“I’m not sure myself how it happened. One minute I was dead, the next I was resurrected. My elder son sacrificed his life to bring me back. Having passed through the veil and back has given me a free pass to the Underworld.”

“Amazing. You really are one of a kind.”

He draws a half-smile. “Not really. A rival of mine was chosen by the gods to be given a second life.” Belle snorts; despite working alongside Hook in research projects, she retains doubts about him, and she certainly wouldn’t label him as more special than her husband.

“We all have a role to play that we can’t see for ourselves,” Connie muses. “A part in the human play.”

“So I can go under the veil and lead my acquaintances home, but”–he points at the salt shaker and snaps his fingers. The shaker remains secure in Connie’s grasp. He shrugs. “I can’t reach my magic.”

“You need a reservoir.”

“Yes.”

“I use the term intentionally, not metaphorically.”

He ponders before grasping her meaning. “Oh… yes… .” He’d studied the healing arts, of course; over three hundred years he’d studied every branch of magic. Healing had been a wonderful bargaining tool. Besides, after he’d figured out that any family member of the Dark One was vulnerable for attack for revenge seekers, he’d learned how to magically stitch lacerations, reduce swelling, and knit broken bones. But he hadn’t had need of that magic often enough for it to come easily to his fingertips, so he was bit rusty on the basics. “The river.”

“The river.” Connie explains to Belle, “All rivers contain a slight amount of healing magic for those who know how to access it and use it properly. Rivers bring life, after all. But some have more power than others, and the San Antonio River is one of the strongest. Local curanderas have tapped into its magic for centuries.”

Asking for help has never come easily for Rumplestiltskin. When he was a half-starved, neglected child, he was blamed for his father’s failed con jobs; when he was the ward of two eccentric old women, he was considered too weird to befriend; when he was a lame war deserter, deserted by his wife, his neighbors resented the fact that he had survived when their soldiers had died. The few times he’d asked for help, he’d been refused, so he quit asking. But since he’d learned his true destiny, he’d allowed Belle to nudge him towards society, for the sake of their son, who needs acceptance and friendship, and so he’s learned to offer help, usually freely. Asking for help, that’s something he’s still working on.

The request comes a little easier, though, when it’s for someone else. Especially when the someone else are a war deserter and a boy separated from his family. “Ms. Leal, will you come with me to the river and teach me how to access its healing magic?”

She takes a moment to consider. He expects that; but what he doesn’t expect is that she’s studying Gid, not him. Maybe she thinks Gid is too young to disseminate. Finally she stands up and he stands too, partly out of etiquette, but largely because he’s ready to grab her arm if she walks away.

She does walk away, but not before she answers him. “Tonight. I’ll meet you in the lobby of the Menger at 11:30.”

“Thank you.” But she’s already walking away. He wonders if she looks down upon him because of his evil past, or whether she doubts herself, fears what he might do when she grants him access to magic. As long as she helps, that’s what matters.

So once again the Golds have to debate the question whether Gid will be allowed to be exposed to an act of magic. Rumple wins this round: the meeting with Connie is set for so late that Gid probably won’t stay awake through it, nor does Belle feel comfortable having her ten-year-old out in a dark and unfamiliar area. They explain it to him at supper (Korean barbeque in the Castle Hills area). He throws a fit, of course, throws every argument in his bag of tantrums at them, but they stand firm and united. “Tomorrow, when you wake up, we’ll go on to New Braunfels.”

“The corridor?” He brightens.

“Charreada,” Belle corrects. “Yes. I hear a special horse will perform. He’s what’s called a Friesian and he’s eighteen hands high—that’s six foot tall!”

“That must be the biggest horse in the world!” Gid’s only seen two horses in his life, those owned by David and Regina, and he promptly decides neither of those horses can match up to Don Pepe. He borrows Mom’s iPad to search for photos of the great Friesian and by supper’s end, Don Pepe has replaced Trigger in Gid’s estimation.

Belle frowns, looking down at her chicken katsu. “Did I just bribe him? We said we weren’t going to do that.”

Rumple lifts a shoulder. “Consider it a deal. We were going to New Braunfels tomorrow, regardless of how he behaves tonight.”

Back in the quiet of the Roy Rogers Suite, Rumple goes to the hallway mirror with Belle by his side and has a friendly chat with Richard, just to say goodbye, then he summons Moses Rose. The face that appears before him is quintessential codger: heavily lined and tanned brown as leather, a nose that hooks over a collapsed mouth, a bushy white beard that stretches from ear to ear. He’s holding a cane. The old dude yanks his battered hat from his head when he spies Belle. “Evenin’, missus. Ain’t you the pretty one, though?”

“Thank you, Mr. Rose.”

“Mr. Rose, we’ve found a way to help you, if you still want to cross over to the Afterlife,” Rumple begins.

“You know, young man, I waited all these years for somebody to tell the truth about me. Get my name cleared.” He turns his whiskey eyes to Belle. “Ma’am, they call me the Coward of the Alamo. They say I ran instead of standin’ to fight with the heroes. But it wa’nt like that. Travis, he said, if you want to go, go. We’re gonna die for sure, he said. Well, I thought they was all a pack of fools. What good would it do, when they was just gonna get killed anyway? I’m no coward, ma’am, I want you to know. I want somebody to know. I served under Napoleon. You think he woulda tolerate any cowards in his army? No coward, damn it, but they call me that, all these years. So when I died, I came back here. Walked all the way from Nacogdoches to pick up a rifle and stand with them that stayed. I been here with ‘em all this time, figurin’ somebody would see me, speak up for me, and then my name’d be clear. But nobody never did. The Coward of the Alamo. So I’m givin’ up, lightin’ out for the other side. The people there’ll know the truth about me.”

Belle assures him, “I’m sure they will. I’m sure Arthur will see to it. Good luck to you, Mr. Rose.”

“Stay ready, then. I’ll call you again when it’s time to lift the veil,” Rumple instructs. “Now, can you find another spirit for me, a boy named Ben Wolf? He’ll be coming with us.”

“I know the boy,” Moses reports. “I can find him.” He leans forward confidentially. “He thinks he’s a coward, ‘cause he took his brother and hid in the chapel when Santa Ana broke through. He thinks he shoulda stayed to load guns for his pa, like some of the other boys did.”

“Arthur will help him too, to find his brother,” Belle insists.

“I’ll find him–”

But Gid is calling from the bathroom; turns out Moses need not search. “Dad, Mom! Ben’s here.”

————————————————————

He hasn’t had much experience with ghosts—er, unchained spirits; in the Enchanted Forest days, with his existence entirely focused on the tasks that would eventually reunite him with Bae, he’d ignored that element of the supernatural, in the assumption that the bodiless would have nothing to add to his research. As he’s matured, he’s learned to be less judgmental, not just because of his developing sense of fairness, but but also for practical matters: every living being, and those not-exactly-living, has skills or knowledge that can be useful, even to a very old, very powerful mage.

So, with his lack of experience, Rumple has to admit that he doesn’t know what it will take for Ben and Moses to make the journey tonight. Sustaining a visible form takes a heavy dose of energy; getting to Underworld will take an hour or more. Can they hold up that long? Moses admits he’s only “gone thick” a few times, for a few minutes, in his post-death existence; Ben has even less practice. Richard, who’s been a frequent “guest among the guests” is brought into the conversation. He concurs with Rumple’s assessment; a tremendous expenditure of energy will be required, and the unpracticed may not be able to hold on for the entire trip.

“But they don’t have to.” Richard runs his finger along the edges of his side of the mirror. “Take a mirror with you. They can ride along in it, until you pass through the veil.”

“I have just the thing.” Belle dashes off to the bedroom, returning with her tote bag. Rumple knows what she’s thinking before she reaches into the bag, but she explains for Richard’s sake. She produces a silver hand mirror, an engraved rose curling up the handle. “This belonged to my mother. It’s one of the few keepsakes I have from her.”

Rumple shares a soft smile with her as they recall the afternoon he gifted her with that mirror, the day after he’d brought magic to Storybrooke and she regained her memories. It was the first time he’d been happy to see her cry. He’d held her tightly until her tears ceased, then he’d made her a cup of tea and sat her down to tell her how he’d obtained the mirror and why. A few days after she’d come to live in the Dark Castle, he’d made a solo trip back to Avonlea to pick through the rubble for her clothes and her books. As he’d passed silently through the crumbling walls of Maurice’s castle, he’d entered first the master chambers. Very little was salvageable—what hadn’t been smashed by ogres had been looted by returning citizens after Maurice and his courtiers had fled to another castle. But on the floor beside an overturned vanity table, he’d found a lovely silver comb, brush and mirror set that he suspected had once belonged to the lady of the house, and he’d tucked them away, intending to offer them to Belle as Yuletide gifts.

Except, by Yuletide, Belle was gone.

As she lays her offering on the ornamental table beneath the Western paintings, Rumple realizes what he must do. Turning her around, he takes her in his arms. “Sweetheart, we agreed that one of us has to stay behind with Gid. But it doesn’t have to be you.”

Her eyes widen. “Are you saying I should—But without magic—”

“With Ms. Leal’s assistance, I’ll open the portal. When you’re ready to come back, Arthur will reopen it. In between, you won’t need magic. Charon will take care of you. Belle, this will be your chance to see your mother again.”

“How will I find her? She wasn’t in Hades’ Underbrooke.”

“That space was just one of hundreds in the Underworld, one that Hades created especially for Zelena. I doubt that it exists now. Arthur will show you to the land where your mother resides.”

Instantly Belle is digging into her tote bag for her wallet. She flips it open and a strip of photos falls from it. “I can show her baby pictures—oh, Rumple, she’ll adore that! To know she’s got a grandson! Our wedding pictures, Gid learning how to walk, his first day of school—she’ll be so thrilled! But Rumple, are you sure? Are you sure I can do this, without magic?”

“I’m sure. Remember, the King of the Underworld is on our side now. But if it will put you at ease.” He removes his wedding ring—formerly, his sorcerer’s ring, through which he could channel and amplify his magic—and slides it onto her thumb. Before they’d left Storybrooke, he’d stored an ounce of magic in the ring’s moonstone, not enough to do much more than heal a sprained ankle or change the color of a traffic light, but it just made him feel a little more normal. The ring is heavy, heavier than its natural weight, and warm, with a faint buzz emanating from the stone.

As she adjusts it, she makes up her mind. “I’ll do it. I’ll find my mother and tell her all about you and Gid.”

He winces. “Maybe not everything. I want her to like me.”

She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him. “I won’t take too long. I’ll be back at sunrise.”

“Take as much time as you need, beloved. We’ll wait.”

——————————————————————–

They’ve squeezed into Connie’s Honda, Rumple in the backseat, a half-asleep Gid slumped across his knees, while Belle and her tote bag, carrying her precious cargo, ride in the front. Connie insists on examining the mirror before they set out; she finds the shadows of a young boy and an old man shimmering beneath the reflective surface. “Smart.” Satisfied, she returns the mirror, then starts the engine and backs out of the parking space. “Now what’s this about you going instead of him? Shouldn’t it be someone who’s crossed over before?”

“I have, and returned safely.” Belle doesn’t want to relive that memory, so she changes the subject. “Where are we going?”

Connie grunts, but allows Belle to keep her secrets. “It’s your funeral, I suppose.”

“Very funny,” Rumple huffs.

“We’re going down to the Missions. We’ll get there right about midnight.” She doesn’t have to explain the significance of the timing to the Dark One and his lady. “It’ll be quieter there; the bars along the Riverwalk stay open until two. Besides, the magic is stronger at the Missions. Purer.”

Though the time is past eleven-thirty, the streets are crowded with staggering pedestrians who pay no attention to oncoming traffic, their laughter and ribald jokes interlaced with horns honking. Connie slides easily in and out of the mess, until at last they’re free of downtown and cruising through slumberingneighborhoods, with only patches of light from the streetlamps overhead to guide them over pothole-littered dark streets. The parked cars and worn-down houses grow sparser as they continue south. “We’re going to Mission Espada.” As they pass under a streetlight, Connie’s brown eyes seem to flash, then darken again as they leave the safety of the light. “The oldest mission in Texas.”

Belle clutches at a good omen. “Espada. That means ‘hope,’ doesn’t it?”

Connie’s eyes flash under another streetlight. “You’re thinking of esperanza. Espada means ‘sword.’”

“Strange name for a church.”

“Saving souls was only one reason that Spain built these missions. The other was to keep the French from out and quell the Indians.”

Belle reclaims her good omen when they pass a library.

Another ten minutes or so and Connie swings the Honda onto the highway, then off again, onto a quiet road. She pulls into a small gravel parking lot behind a tall stone structure. “This is it.” She pockets her keys as she waits for her passengers to unload.

Away from the streetlights and traffic, Belle feels the tension drop away from her shoulders.It’s too dark tosee much of the old church, but something about its presence, so tall and ancient, calms her nerves. Reluctantly, Rumple shakes Gid’s shoulder, urging him to waken, and the Golds walk hand in hand behind their guide. Belle lights the path with the flashlight in her iPhone. So that they can follow her voice in the dark, she talks as she leads them through thick brush. For their edification, she points out some local plants: “Mesquite—good for treating open wounds and reducing fever.  Huisache—to treat rashes and diarrhea.Spiny hackberry—sore throats.Pecan.”

“What’s pecan good for?”

Connie pauses to grin at Belle. “Pies.” They’ve cleared the brush now and have come to the river. Carefully they pick their way down the grassy slope to the water, and Connie kneels. The Golds kneel on either side of her as she stretches out her arms over the water and prays in Spanish, and Belle could swear the river answers her by roiling up. She cups her hands to raise a sampling of the water toward the sky and her prayer intensifies. She swings her hands over Belle’s head and lets the water drizzle between her fingers onto Belle’s hair.

Belle shivers. “I can feel it! There’s a vibration in the water, the same as in Rumple’s ring.”

“Cool,” Gid approves.

Finishing her prayer, Connie rocks back on her knees and sighs. “I always feel younger after coming here. Are you ready to go, Belle?”

She inspects the contents of her tote bag one last time. “Ready.”

“Tell Arthur hi for me.” Rumple stands and reaches into his jeans for his key ring. Opening the small pocket knife he keeps attached to his keys, he looks down into the roiling water. “This river’s got Storybrooke Lake beat by a mile. Here goes.” He slides the blade across his palm, then as blood oozes from the laceration, he turns his hand over and lets the blood drip into the river. A sudden mist blankets the river and as Connie rises to her feet, an ancient skiff navigated by a hooded figure glides into view. Rumple binds his wounded hand with a handkerchief as Belle grabs Gideon and pulls him in for a hug and a kiss. “Now I want you to go straight to bed, as soon as you get back to the hotel. Try to get some sleep. I’ll be waiting here when you come back for me in the morning. Deal?”

“Yes, Mom.” As she starts to pull away, he clutches her sleeve. “Mom, are you scared?”

“Just a little.”

“I would be too.” He fishes something out of his pocket and presses it into her hand. “This will help.”

She opens her palm. He’s given her the medal he won this year for scoring the most free throws for the Storybrooke Giants. “Thank you, son. I’ll bring it back safe and sound.” After a last hug from her boy, she throws her arms around her husband. His scruff scratches her cheek as he kisses her. “See you at sunrise, darling.”

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

Confident that the river will keep her upright, she steps out into the water. At midpoint, she should be fully submerged, but her feet float atop the waves. She glances over her shoulder to wave goodbye to her men, then proceeds to the skiff. The hooded figure shifts his ferryman’s pole to his left hand so he reach out with his right, steadying her as she climbs aboard. Before she can wave again, the mist engulfs the boat and she can see nothing.

Underworld

The fog lifts as they enter a brightly lit cavern. Belle has to blink to clear her eyes; Charon gives her a moment to adjust, then look around. Beneath her, the river that carried them here is placid and crystal clear. On shore, a string quartet plays a cello suite.The skiff is just one of many parked alongside docks, where waiters in white shirts and bow ties stand with silver salvers holding hors d’ourves and brandy in snifters. Most of the boats are unoccupied, but those that are peopled are all directed by hooded ferrymen (and -women). The waiters assist new arrivals from “above” out of their boats before offering greetings, refreshments and directions. She lifts her head, seeking the artificial lights, but sees none. She takes a moment to admire the ceiling, which is covered with an incredibly vivid and colorful painting of Mount Olympus; the style of the mural reminds her of the Sistine Chapel.

A baritone with a classy English accent carries across the water.“He painted it, while he was here before moving on.”

“Michelangelo?” Belle practically squeals as she casts a second look upon the mural. “He was here?”

Arthur shrugs. “Everyone comes through here, remember. I’m told Hades fouled up the paperwork and while that was being straightened out, Michelangelo needed something to pass the time, so, voila.”

“I suspect that paperwork conveniently showed up the day after the mural was finished,” Belle says dryly as Arthur hands her out of the boat.

“Funny how that works, isn’t it? And that piece you’re listening to now? Specially written for the Underworld, compliments of J. S. Bach’s lost paperwork.” As her feet land safely on the wooden dock, Charon moves his boat away. Arthur continues to hold Belle’s hands while he leans forward to kiss her on both cheeks.He then takes a half-step back to admire her. “You look well. How are things in Storybrooke?”

“Everyone’s fine. We’ve been away a while—”

“Yes, touring the world. Are you enjoying it all?” He offers her a snifter. “Napoleon brandy—distilled by Bonaparte himself, thanks to a transposed date on his paperwork.”

“Immensely. The world is so big, so diverse, and so utterly fascinating.” Belle sniffs the brandy’s bouquet before taking a sip.

“I hope you can spare an hour to tell me about it.” He places her hand in the crook of his elbow and turns her about. “A midnight supper, perhaps? Julia Child is here. She got so bored cooking for the gods; they’re all on butter-free diets.”

“I’d love to, but I came on a mission—”

“Yes, of course. Pardon me for getting distracted. It isn’t often that people make us part of their vacation plans. I keep a close watch on your husband, as well as the world’s magic users, and I was quite excited when you decided to escort your new friends here.” He walks her to the end of the dock, but before she can step off, they’re suddenly standing in his office. It’s a thoroughly modern space, with clean-lined B & B Italia sofas, chairs and desks. There are no file cabinets or “in” boxes, but there’s a smart board on the east wall and a laptop in every corner and Arthur carries an iPhone hooked to his belt. Music from the string quartet is piped in.

And most importantly, most amazingly, there’s Lady Colette pacing and wringing her hands in the center of the room. Her curls are immaculate, her lacy dress looks brand new and there are no wrinkles in her face—in fact, Belle thinks, her mother looks younger than she does. “Belle!”

Belle falls backward against a desk as a body comes flying at her and arms engulf her. Mother and daughter hug… and hug… and hug, and kiss cheeks and gabble greetings. In all this confusion, Arthur comes up behind, straightens Belle, then takes her tote bag and sets it gently on the desk.He then stands back, hands folded, indulgently waiting for the excitement to die down.

“I have so much to tell you!” Both women squeal simultaneously, but Belle ends, “Oh, but there’s something I have to do first.” She reaches back for the tote bag.

“Yes, your guests.” Setting a soft hand on Belle’s shoulder, Colette leans in to watch as Belle withdraws her mirror from the bag.

Colette gasps and clasps a hand to her mouth. “Oh my gods, I recognize that! How did you—”

“There’s a great big story attached to this,” Belle grins. “Adventure, horror, the supernatural, and romance. I’ll tell you all about it soon, but first… .” She moves to the center of the room, holds the mirror at arm’s length and calls out: “Mr. Rose, Ben, come forth, please.”

There’s nothing dramatic about it—it’s like Rumple’s magic when he’s not showing off. One minute it’s just Belle, holding a mirror and calling; then next, it’s a little hunch-shouldered guy with a bushy white beard and beady blue eyes that dart from face to face, then take in the room. Attempting to hide behind the old guy is a too-thin, shaggy adolescent.

Arthur extends a hand. “Mr. Rose, Master Wolf, welcome. I’m Arthur. I run things here. And this is Lady Colette of Avonlea.”

Rose wipes his hands on his dungarees, shakes Arthur’s hand and nods at Colette. “Mornin’. Or, I guess, evenin’. Feel kinda discombobulated just now.” He tosses a growl over his shoulder. “Come on outta there, boy. You’re breathin’ down my neck.” But Ben doesn’t move away from his safe spot. His eyes search the room for a comfortably familiar face—Gid’s, Belle realizes.

Arthur is chatting with Rose, attempting to allay his suspicions by assuring him he hasn’t arrived in Tartarus; he isn’t here for judgment or punishment. “In fact, where are my manners? Would you care for some refreshment? Beer? A sandwich?” He directs an offering to Ben: “Cookies? Julia makes the most mouth-watering chocolate chip cookies.”

Colette intervenes, “Arthur, may I suggest first, we reunite them with their families?”

Arthur smiles at Rose. “If you’re ready, then?” He presses a button on his phone. “Henrietta, send them in, please.” Turning back to his guests, he informs them, “Your parents and your brother are here, Ben; they’ve been waiting for you, all these years. But Mr. Rose, I’m afraid I couldn’t find any relatives for you.”

Rose looks at his cracked boots. “Got none. Raised a orphan, never married.”

“But there is someone who wants to welcome you, and when you’re ready, take you over to your next stop.”

The double doors swing wide and three people dash into the room, and before anyone can speak, Ben is lost in a sea of arms and kisses. Arthur chuckles. “I guess you folks remember each other, all right.”

Belle can make out bits of the noisy exchange. “Ma! Pa!”

“Oh, Benny, we’re so glad—“

“Mikey, I didn’t mean to—“

“It ain’t nothin’, Ben. Not your fault. Them toy soldiers in their pretty blue and red suits—“ ”

“Pa, I shoulda stayed, loaded guns for you—maybe you wouldn’t’ve got killed. Ma, I didn’t mean to—“

“It wasn’t your fault, son. Like your brother says, it wasn’t your fault, none of it.”

“You ain’t no deserter. You just did what I told you to, takin’ care of your little brother, right up until the end.”

There’s more, lots of crying and hugging and exchanges of forgiveness, but the family closes in on itself and Belle looks away, giving them a bit of privacy. Besides, a new arrival has commanded the attention of her mother, Arthur and Rose. He’s an imposing figure, tall, dressed in buckskin, lean as a whip and just as sharp, and Belle recognizes him from paintings around San Antonio. Moses snatches off his battered hat in respect as he utters, “Mr. Crockett.”

Arthur waves the newcomer into the room and brings the women forward for introductions. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet Congressman David Crockett. Congressman, may I introduce Lady Colette and her daughter, Belle Gold.”

The tall man cocks a smile as he shakes their hands. “They mostly call me Davy, ma’am. Good to know you. And thank you for bringing one of my boys home, Mrs. Gold.”

Moses’ jaw drops as his lips silently form the word my. His eyebrows raise in a question.

“We’ve been waitin’ for you, Mose.”

The old man’s voice squeaks. “We?”

“All the boys are here, except for those we left on guard duty.”

Rose shrinks against the Wolfs, as if seeking to hide within their circle. “You gonna send me to the firin’ squad?”

“No, Mose, we come to bring you back with us.” Crockett takes a step forward, worrying his hat in his hand.

The wrinkled faces scrunches up. “I don’t unnerstand.”

“To the final resting place.” Crockett takes another step forward. “If you want.”

“Or you can stay here until you’re ready,” Arthur offers. “Some call it the Elysian Fields, some call it Paradise or Heaven. It’s whatever you imagine it to be. I like to call it Valhalla, home of heroes.”

Michael Wolf pipes up: “That’s where we’re goin’ too.”

Rose’s misty eyes swing from Arthur to Crockett. “You sure? You ain’t—”

“No, Mose, I wouldn’t pull your leg about a thing like that.” Crockett tilts his head toward the door. “The boys are all waitin’ outside, so we can march together, like soldiers.”

“Like soldiers.” Rose licks his lips, then slaps his hat onto this head. “All right, then. Guess I’m ready. ‘Cept—“ He squeezes Belle’s forearm. “Missus, you and your man, you been—well, I ‘preciate it. That’s all.”

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Rose. Pleasant journey.”

“Reckon I’ll see you and him again.” He approaches Crockett, who clasps him on the shoulder. Rose pauses to glance back with a wide grin. “In the restin’ place of heroes!”

Michael whoops, and at their mother’s bidding the Wolf family, arm in arm, follows the Congressman and the soldier out into the night.

Colette fumbles for a handkerchief in her sleeve; even Arthur has to brush at his eyes. “Well then!” He pushes a button on his phone again. “Julia, we’re hungry!” He waves a hand at a cluster of chairs and couches in the corner. “Ladies, would you care to be seated? I’m going to go toss the salad for Mrs. Child. We’ll have supper ready in a jiffy—but not too soon. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Colette dabs at her damp cheeks.

As the women make their way to one of the couches, Belle is fumbling in her tote bag. “I brought pictures, Mother. Loads of pictures. Mother, you’re a grandma now!”

Colette throws her arms around her daughter. “Yes, I know; I’ve been following your story.” She points at a laptop. “Arthur allows us to tune in. Oh, Belle, I’m so happy for you, so proud of what you’veaccomplished. You saved Rumplestiltskin’s soul; do you realize that? Because of you, the Dark One found the light. You saved Avonlea; you saved the world!”

Belle blushes. “Mother, all I did was try to support the man I love. He made the decision himself, to come to the light. He makes that decision, every day, for his family’s sake. He’s a hero, Mother.”

“So are you, my baby, so are you.” Colette seats herself, patting the space beside her. “Sit, my baby, sit and show me pictures of my beautiful grandson, and tell me everything!”

It’s half past seven, nearly an hour past sunrise. Connie and Gid sit on the riverbank, nearly in the exact same spot as last night, except this time the boy is fully awake. They’re drinking orange juice from a thermos that she’d stopped to buy, along with Egg McMuffins, because when she picked them up at the hotel, she could tell at a glance they hadn’t eaten anything. She’s keeping the boy’s mind off what’s happening in the river—or rather, what’s not happening—by sharing some insider gossip about the Spurs. She’s made no attempt to amuse the Dark One. She’d think less of him if he weren’t worried.

She has been puzzling about him, though. The oldest, most powerful magic user she’s ever met, and here he shows up in her hometown with a wife and a kid and Triple A TripTik in his back jeans pocket, like some ordinary middle-aged tourist. The oldest, most powerful dark magic user, of all time, so say the books; and yet he lives in a four-bedroom house in a small town and makes a living selling antiques and collecting rent, when he could live in Paris or London or Barcelona—when he could own Paris or London or Barcelona. He could have forced her to kneel before him, but instead he’d asked for her help with a humble please.

And the most puzzling fact of all: all that light magic buzzing around him, like a colony of honeybees circling their hive, protecting it, busily producing something good in it. Yet, there’s an equal number of killer wasps buzzing around him too, producing pools of evil inside him, tar against the honey. More darkness than any single human has ever carried, and more light, too. How does he contain it all? How does he not just explode?

As for herself, she’s grateful that the Universe gave her this chance to observe him, but she’ll be just as grateful when he leaves. Preferably, permanently.

She feels a rumbling in the ground beneath her and she clambers to her feet. “Your mom’s coming.” She gathers the trash from meal and stuffs it into a bag as Gid runs toward his father, stretching his neck as far as it will go, to see around the bend. Mist suddenly, inexplicably rises from the water, and Gid acknowledges her observation. “Yup! That’s Mom, all right. Look, Dad, there’s that thing on the front of the boat.”

“That’s a griffin.” Rumple steps out into the river, ignoring the mud gathering on his Justin Hidalgos and the water soaking the cuffs of his Levis. “Yes, there’s Charon, and behind him, there’s Mom, about to fall out of the boat.”

It’s true: Belle is waving so hard she’s off-balance. “Rumple! Gid! My boys!” No sooner has Charon poled the skiff into shallow water than she’s leaped off, splashing enthusiastically, soaking her Stella McCartney slacks. Then she’s in their arms and they’re in hers and everything is all right again.

“I have so much to tell you.” She raises her face, allowing Rumple to brush away her tears with his knuckles.

Gid can’t hold still. “Did you get ‘em there okay? Did Ben find his brother?”

“Yes, and they’re all together now, and they’ve left for the Land of Heroes, and Davy Crockett was there; he came to collect Moses and take him to Elysium too, and my mother—she looks wonderful, Rumple, so happy and so much younger than I remember. Wait, I have pictures of her! And Arthur, and the Wolfs and Davy, oh, and Julia Child, and you should see what Arthur’s done with the place… .”

Connie opens the passenger side door of her Honda and tosses the trash onto the floorboard. “Hey, Gid, why don’t you ride shotgun so your parents can sit together in the back.”

“Connie!” Belle brings the surprised curandera in for a hug. “Thank you! Thanks to you, everyone’s back where they belong, and I got to see my mother again.”

Connie doesn’t know quite what to say, so she just nods. She’s healed many a sick or injured client in her time, but she’s never sent anyone to Hell before (or rather, the Underworld), though she’s wanted to.

“We owe you, far more than your financial compensation,” Rumple admits, opening the back door for Belle.

“I dunno, that fee’s going to pay my mortgage off,” Connie winks at him. “But tell you what: I would like to hear what it’s like there, so why don’t you treat me to lunch.”

"Our pleasure,” Rumple agrees. “Your niece’s restaurant?”

“Heck, no, I wouldn’t eat in that dump. I know a nice little place in Southtown where they serve afternoon tea.” She slides in behind the steering wheel. “It’s called The Madhatter’s.”

Belle and Rumple exchange wry smiles. “Madhatter’s, huh?” Belle muses. “We know a guy who’s called that.”

“I’m sure it’s not the same man, sweetheart,” Rumple objects. “Jefferson’s hardly the tea shop kind. More like a travel agent, I think.”

“Or a haberdasher, but that would be rather on the nose, wouldn’t it? A Halloween costume designer, I think. Or an opera singer.”

“I doubt if his vocal chords could handle the high notes. But I agree about something stagy. An actor of melodramas, perhaps. Yes, I can see him in one of the swirly capes, with handlebar mustaches that he twirls.” They press their foreheads together as they giggle.

Connie rolls her eyes and leans in toward Gid. “Your parents always that goofy?”

“Yeah.” The boy sighs deeply. “It’s a burden, but I’ve learned to put up with them.”

“Never would have figured the Dark One for a nerd.”

“You wouldn’t, would you? That’s why it works, I guess. People don’t know what to expect.”

“You want to be a sorcerer when you grow up?”

Gid snorts. “Are you kidding? ‘Wizard of the Hoops,’ that’s me.”

“I’ll watch for you in the NBA.”

————————————————————————–

New Braunfels

Sweaty and dusty and sunburnt, the Golds stagger down from the grandstand. They’ve spent the entire day under the blazing sun as they watched charros perform: roping bulls, riding broncos, bull dogging, performing rope tricks from atop a loping horse. They’ve gasped as the six-foot tall stallion Don Pepe danced like Nureyev across the rodeo ring. They’ve watched the more incredible show of bravery, seemingly reckless, as cowboys galloped their mounts at top speed straight towards the ring’s fence, then reined them to a stop on a dime. The greatest test of bravery, though, they all agree, is the escaramuza, a tightly choreographed exhibit of synchronized riding by the charras, eight girls—the youngest, only eight—riding sidesaddle in huge traditional skirts and hats, cantering in intricate patterns that take them within inches of collision. The horses manage to dodge each other just in time, and the riders never lose balance. “It’s like a game of chicken on horseback,” Gid breathes.

“Ice water in their veins,” Rumple comments. “Nearly gives me a heart attack just watching.”

“Avonlea was known far and wide for great horsemen, but not a one of ours could hold a candle to these girls.” Belle rises to her feet, applauding as the charras finish their performance; all the spectators follow suit.

As the sun sets, the master of ceremonies dances out on Don Pepe. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your applause, and thank you for kind attention today. We’ve worked hard to prepare for this event; we hope you enjoyed it. The charro has been a feature of Mexican culture going back to the seventeenthcentury; their skills and traditions have been passed from parent to child for generations.The reason we do our charreada is to keep those traditions alive and to honor our ancestors. And now, as we close, we pay tribute to the man who founded this show in 1944 and who memory inspires every one of us, every day, my father, Alejandro Guajardo Senior, who passed away last year.” As a mariachi band strikes up a bold tune, all the cowboys come riding into the arena, circle around the MC, and bring their horses to a halt.They take their hats off and bow from the saddle. Don Pepe ducks his head between his forelegs in a bow of his own.

Belle dabs at her eyes. “I think I’ll call my father when we get back to the hotel.” She’s not sure in the twilight, but she thinks Rumple has gone pale. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

Silently he points at an empty space in the area.

She doesn’t understand. “What is it?”

“There… there’s an old man in a sombrero, sitting on a horse.”

“I don’t see—Rumple, there’s no one there.”

“Yes, there is,” he argues.

Then she catches on. “Ohhh.” The ghost of Alejandro Guajardo Sr. “He’s come to bless his son’s work, I imagine.”

Rumple swallows hard. “Do you think I should tell Alejandro Jr.?”

But before Belle can answer, Gid interrupts, clambering to his feet and whistling his applause. “Wow. Wow. Can I go down and meet Don Pepe? Can we talk to the charros?”

Belle gives her husband a moment to collect his thoughts. When he shakes his head and smiles, she suggests, “Maybe we could go down for just a few minutes and talk to the riders. I’d like to look at those sidesaddles, see how they compare to the ones we ladies used in Avonlea.”

Rumple watches the cowboys circle around the area and ride out. “I’d just like to know how those little girls stay on without Super Glue.” He follows his family down from the grandstand. When they reach the ground, he steps aside, allowing other spectators to rush past him to the parking lot. He hooks his sunglasses onto a chain around his neck, then sighs, admiring the moon coming up behind Belle’s shoulder. “There’s Don Pepe; Guajardo’s leading him to the barn. Go ahead, Gid. We’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Another ghost story?” Belle slides her arm around her husband’s waist.

He nods. “I guess I should tell him. It’s his father, after all. At least, the old man looks happy; he might not need anything from us, other than to deliver a message.”

“Whatever he needs, that’s fine. We have time.” Belle turns around to the area, wishing she could see the old charro too. “Some show. Some trip. Some country, a little wild, a little dangerous, a lot of fun.”

“Yeah.” Rumple runs his fingers through her hair. “As the old timers say, we’ve been to see the elephant, Belle.”

She nods. “We’ve been to see the elephant.”

#rsv entry #thank you!!!! #submission

[learningrendezvous]

Art and Culture

PITCH, THE: PASSING THE HAT FOR A LIVING

By Jim Kuehnel

What is a "Brusker"? According to Merriam-Webster, a brusker is a 'street performer'; a person who entertains in a public place for donations. Street performance or busking is the act of performing in public places for gratuities. In many instances the rewards are in the form of money but other gratuities such as food, drink or gifts may be given. Brusking is practiced all over the world and dates back to antiquity. It is also, in contemporary times, used by performers as a way to get discovered.

Performances can be virtually anything¡K anything that people find entertaining. Performers may do acrobatics, animal tricks, balloon twisting, caricatures, clowning, comedy, contortions, escapology, dance, singing, fire skills, flea circus, fortune-telling, juggling, magic, mime, living statue, musical performance, puppeteering, snake charming, storytelling or reciting poetry or prose, street art such as sketching and painting, street theatre, sword swallowing, and ventriloquism. Brusking is only limited by the imagination of the performer.

"The Pitch" takes a look at the world of international street performing bruskers to find out why these men and women have chosen to "pass the hat" to make a living, along with the challenges they face.

The fast-tracked project was filmed over the summers of 2015 and 2016 documenting busker performances and interviews during the 25th and 26th edition of the Buskers on The Bay Festivals.

Buskers featured in the film hail from Australia, England, the US and Canada, providing a broad spectrum of performers. The film is produced by Jim Kuehnel with Mark Berry and Duane Farley as Executive Producers.

Featured artists and interviews include Aerial Manx, Andrew Lopatin, Brad The Balloon Guy, Pogo Fred, Super Elvis, The Flying Tortillas, Madame Guillotine and many more.

Only available in United States.

DVD / 2017 / 93 minutes

CHINESE LIVES OF ULI SIGG, THE

By Michael Schindhelm

Art world sensation Ai Weiwei credits him with launching his international career. Renowned pianist Lang Lang describes him as a mentor to Chinese artists. Curator Victoria Lu believes that his taste and influence as a collector has been felt around the world.

But when Swiss businessman Uli Sigg first went to China, art was far from his mind. The year was 1979, and Sigg-working for the Schindler escalator and elevator company-was hoping to set up one of the first joint ventures between the Chinese government, seeking international investment in the post-Mao era, and a Western company. At the time, even the fanciest hotels had rats, boardrooms were so poorly heated you could see your breath, and the government still regulated hairstyles (five different kinds of perm allowed).

Uli Sigg is not a man who does things by halves. "My ego, my way" says a t-shirt he wears at one point in the film. When he took up rowing, he went to the world championships. When he negotiated a joint venture, he wanted to create a model for future partnerships. And when he became interested in Chinese art, he built a world-class personal collection.

Sigg championed the artists he admired, working tirelessly for their international recognition and to preserve their artwork as a record of China's tumultuous and historic changes. Eventually, Sigg became the Swiss ambassador to China and a consultant on major Chinese art projects, including the construction of the Bird's Nest stadium for the Olympic Games.

THE CHINESE LIVES OF ULI SIGG, directed by art historian and scholar Michael Schindhelm (Bird's Nest) and produced by Marcel Hoehn (Dark Star: H. R. Giger's World, The Knowledge ofo Healing, Monte Grande, Santiago Calatrava's Travels, The Written Face) is a history of China's recent opening to the West, and of the West's embrace of Chinese contemporary art, through the eyes of Sigg and the artists he championed. Artists including Ai Weiwei, Cao Chong'en, Cao Fei, Gang Lijun, Feng Mengbo, Shao Fan, Wang Guangyi and Zeng Fanzhi are interviewed along with curators, diplomats, architects and business colleagues in this colorful documentary survey of contemporary Chinese art.

DVD (Color) / 2016 / 93 minutes

KINGS OF THE PAGES: THE GOLDEN AGE OF COMIC STRIPS

Directed by Robert Lemieux

At the turn of the 20th century, two of the most powerful men in America were newspaper magnates William Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer. Noted mostly for their contentious rivalry and sensationalist news coverage, they were also responsible for cultivating some of the era's most recognizable celebrities-Nemo, Krazy, Happy Hooligan, George McManus, Ignatz, Mutt, Buster Brown, Hans and Fritz, and Offissa Pup, to name a few.

In their ongoing battle to attract newspaper readers, both Hearst and Pulitzer had discovered that comic strips were a strategic addition. Often raiding each other's staffs to acquire the best talent, both men recognized the potential. It wasn't until Hearst unveiled the first full color, 8-page comic supplement in 1896, that the potential was fully realized, prompting Hearst's now famous quote motto¡K "Eight Pages of Iridescent Polychromous Effulgence That Makes The Rainbow Look Like A Lead Pipe!"

Over the next fifty years, that polychromatic effulgence would usher in the Golden Age of the American comic strip. During that time span, more than 150 different strips made their way into America's living rooms. Every week the characters and their creators provided humorous entertainment and tickled many a funny bone. Reading the comics became a cultural phenomenon.

Only available in North America.

DVD / 2016 / 24 minutes

MONEY ART

By Massimo Brega

Money and art: two worlds, seemingly far apart but actually closely intertwined. One could not exist without the other.

In this film viewers are taken on a journey of beauty. From Ancient Rome to the benches of Renaissance Italy where modern banking was born; from the court of Louis XIV to the auction room at Christie's and the sale of the world's most expensive works of art; from the Impressionists to the New York Stock Exchange.

Guided by historians, art collectors, economists and artists, with special contributions from economist, Jacques Attali, and performance artist, Marina Abramovich, we travel through history, through the art movements right up to the present day to reveal the true nature of this unique relationship between money and art.

You will learn:

Of the story of the richest man who ever lived. Jacob Fugger used art to gain political influence. He then used that influence to make deals which then enabled him build a business empire that today would be worth twice as much as Apple.

How a gambling Scottish art collector with outlandish economic theories bankrupted the kingdom of France. John Law was a scoundrel by any measure, yet his ideas for a new system of paper money gave rise to our modern system of banking and finance.

How the English godfather of modern economics started an art movement in Mexico. John Maynard Keynes was a passionate believer in state funding for the arts. The ideas he developed in the Bloomsbury Group would become the bedrock for Mexico's state funding of the arts, perhaps the world's most evolved system.

How a little known Swiss ambassador became the greatest collector of contemporary Chinese art. Uli Sigg now has his own private island on a Swiss lake. We visit his castle.

How one of largest banks in the world is now one of the most important art collectors. Deutsche Bank now has 60,000 pieces of modern art in 900 offices in 40 countries. How did that happen?

From slums to high society, from archives to open spaces, from private collections to public galleries, we get close to some of the world's most famous pieces of art and provide new insights as into the story of this paradoxical relationship between art and money.

In this visually stunning film, viewers experience the rich, sophisticated imagery that is the hallmark of director, Massimo Brega.

The glorious soundtrack comes from composer Pino Donaggio, who wrote hits for Dusty Springfield and Elvis, as well as regularly collaborating with US director, Brian De Palma. In 2012 Pino was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award by the World Soundtrack Academy.

The insightful script is by English financial writer, Dominic Frisby, whose film credits include the internet sensation, Four Horsemen, about the global financial crisis.

Only available in North America.

DVD (Color) / 2016 / 53 minutes

BELTRACCHI: THE ART OF FORGERY

By Anne Birkenstock

For nearly 40 years, Wolfgang Beltracchi fooled the international art world and was responsible for the biggest art forgery scandal of the postwar era. An expert in art history, theory and painting techniques, he tracked down the gaps in the oeuvres of great artists - Max Ernst, Fernand Leger, Heinrich Campendonk, Andre Derain and Max Pechstein, above all - and filled them with his own works. He and his wife Helene would then introduce them to the art world as originals. What makes these forgeries truly one-of-a-kind is that they are never mere copies of once-existing paintings, but products of Beltracchi's imagination, works "in the style of" famous early 20th-century artists. With his forgeries, he fooled renowned experts, curators and art dealers. The auctioneers Sotheby's and Christie's were hoodwinked, just like Hollywood star Steve Martin and other collectors throughout the world.

In BELTRACCHI: THE ART OF FORGERY, Wolfgang and his wife Helene Beltracchi chat openly - and with great wit and charm - about their quixotic adventures in an overheated art world ruled by blind greed, and in which apparently no one has an answer to the question as to what is an original, and what is a forgery... Beltracchi is an engaging rogue, a warm-hearted husband and father, and an impossibly self-confident artist. Full of witty dialogues, the film shows Beltracchi's incredible talent as a painter and reveals his expertise in forging paintings from the early 20th century, which were so masterfully done that art experts, museums and auction houses around the world were duped and exposed.

DVD (Color) / 2014 / 93 minutes

EAVESDROPPING ON SOULS: A JOURNEY INTO HAITIAN ARTS

By Jacqueline Jean-Baptiste

Eavesdropping on Souls is an award winning documentation of the spectacular art of Haiti and the underlying emotional culture of its people.

During the early 1960's and 1970's, many Haitians left their country and emigrated to the US, Mexico, Canada, Europe and several African countries to escape the oppressive conditions during the dictatorship of Francois "Papa Doc" and his son Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier.

What is so extraordinary about Haiti is that the poverty which surrounds the people seems to heighten the artistic creativity that is present in the Haitian people. One is struck by the vibrancy of the arts as it is mingled with the every day activities of ordinary people chasing a living and navigating constant political uncertainty.

Whether Haitians live in Haiti or abroad, they continue to express their creativity in various art forms including sculpture, painting and metal work. Unfortunately, this broad range of artistic creativity is often unseen.

Filmmaker Jacqueline Jean-Baptiste has dedicated herself to presenting some of the art and culture of Haiti with a cast of extraordinary painters, sculptors, photographers and other artisans. The result is a portrait of extraordinary art from a complex culture.

Eavesdropping on Souls is about creativity as it is expressed by Haitians within and outside of Haiti.

This film is dedicated to Haitians who, after leaving Haiti, rarely or have never returned; also to young people born outside of Haiti, from Haitian parents, who are used to the images of poverty and corruption portrayed in the press. And to everyone, curious about discovering a complete image of Haiti in its essence.

DVD (English and French) / 2014 / 50 minutes

NEXT BIG THING, THE

By Frank van den Engel

Prices for contemporary art are going through the roof despite the lousy economic situation in general. Internet, the growing number of rich individuals and globalization have changed the art market beyond recognition. Has contemporary art become a commodity in the hands of the super rich private collectors?

This film investigates the ins and outs of the soaring art market and the consequences for artists, dealers, museums and for art history.

With among others: artists Chuck Close, Jack Whitten and Adrian Ghenie, Top 200 art collectors under which Bert Kreuk, Martin Z. Margulies and Thomas Olbricht, museum directors Udo Kittelman and Benno Tempel and Christie's Chairman NY.

DVD (Color) / 2014 / 57 minutes

OCHRE AND INK

By James Bradley

A landmark exhibition opens at the imposing Capital Museum in Beijing. It's the culmination of an extraordinary cross-cultural partnership between Chinese-Australian artist Zhou Xiaoping and the late Aboriginal artist Johnny Bulunbulun, forged over twenty years in remote Arnhem Land.

The extraordinary story of Xiaoping's journey to Australia and his close friendships with Bulunbulun and other Aboriginal people is illustrated with beautiful artwork, fascinating archival videos, and intimate scenes of life in remote Aboriginal outstations-and it reveals the ethics and politics of cross-cultural collaboration.

Ochre and Ink tells the extraordinary story of artist Zhou Xiaoping and his inspiring 23 year collaboration with Aboriginal artists in outback Australia.

Trained as a traditional Chinese brush painter in Anhui Province, Xiaoping arrived in Australia in 1988 knowing almost nothing about the country. On a whim, he traveled to the heart of the outback, where he was surprised to see Aboriginal people for the first time. He became fascinated by their art and culture, and they welcomed him into their communities where the artists showed him their techniques of painting with ochre on bark.

Now Xiaoping is visiting the famous artist Johnny Bulunbulun and his family, working on paintings for a major exhibition to be held in Beijing, on the theme of the 300 year trade in Trepang (sea cucumber) from the Aboriginal people of northern Australia via Macassan traders to China.

Johnny is keen to travel to China for the exhibition; but tragically, he dies before he can make the journey. Instead, Johnny's wife and son attend the exhibition opening at the imposing Capital Museum in Beijing and perform an emotional ceremony in his honour.

Later Xiaoping shows his Aboriginal friends some of the fascinating sights of Beijing.

DVD (Color) / 2012 / 28 minutes

FOLD CRUMPLE CRUSH: THE ART OF EL ANATSUI

By Susan Vogel

FOLD CRUMPLE CRUSH: THE ART OF EL ANATSUI gives an insider's view of the artist's practice, the ingenious steps and thousands of hours of labor that convert used bottle tops into huge, opulent wall hangings. Here Anatsui explains how his artworks have become a marriage of painting and sculpture, objects that speak of African history but also reach for the ethereal - and he talks about his aspirations for artworks he has yet to make.

Behind the charming, easy-going artist we discover a man who remains mysterious even to his dearest friends. The film circles around Anatsui, drawing ever closer to a deep understanding of the man and his surprising bottle top hangings. We see the celebrated artist installing work on the great world stage of the Venice Biennale; we follow him back to the small town of Nsukka as he goes about his daily life, then watch him inside the hive of his studio directing assistants as they stitch together bottle tops into a vast metal hanging. Finally, Anatsui admits us to the privacy of his home where he tells us about his formative years, and reveals a youthful discovery that clouded his life.

DVD (Color) / 2011 / 53 minutes

SWING IN BEIJING

Directed by Shui-Bo Wang

A comprehensive survey of creative life in contemporary Beijing, SWING IN BEIJING captures a remarkable impression of the current state of fine and performing arts in this rapidly changing city. Academy Award nominee Shui-Bo Wang has incorporated interviews with artists, filmmakers, and musicians, along with clips of films, plays and music videos, paintings and other artwork in galleries and studios, and revealing footage of a city in transition.

Although government censorship has been a threat to artists in China for years, many of the artists cite the lack of venues and financial support as the new censorship. Gao Xing, aged 26, is the lead singer of the punk group Underbaby. Gao and his friends say it isn't the government but music producers and MTV-China that demand less controversial lyrics. For painter Wei Dong censorship is a danger that lies within. During the Cultural Revolution his parents were persecuted, and Wei knows his memories must influence him in some way, though he tries to resist the impulse to tone down his work.

The painful transformation of Beijing is a subject many of the artists confront. In response to the destruction of the old quarter, Wei Dong explores artistic methods that embrace modernization but preserve Chinese culture. Filmmaker Jia Khang Ke explores the loss of traditional values and culture as well. Using his small, hometown Penang as the setting, his most recent film is a meditation on the dissolution of the traditional family in China. Zhan Wang is also troubled by the demolition of the old District. In his state-owned studio he creates work that asks, "Where do we come from?" Freed from financial constraints by his work as a commercial artist, Zhan creates conceptual art by photographing the demolished old district, then photographing the same area after his 'renovations.' His work is completed as the new structures go up over the old.

All of these artists, and many others interviewed in SWING IN BEJING, debate the value of Western recognition. While selection for a Western show like the Venice Bi-annual guarantees international fame, the selected pieces are often shown out of context, diluting their power. Western curators, says Wu Mei Chun, tend to pick pieces that shock the Western sensibility, not the best piece. A graduate of the China Institute of Fine Arts she decided to stop practicing art in order to curate. Now 31, she puts on controversial group shows in non-official settings.

Finally, SWING IN BEIJING takes us to the Central Experimental Playhouse for a production of Dario Fo's Death of an Anarchist. Director Men Jeng Hui was a student activist during the Tiananmen uprising, and says the events of 1989 are his formative experiences. Citing Stanislavsky's student Meyerhold as his inspiration, he insists that theater always needs revolution. By raising funds from friends and private corporations (the government has cut funding to the theater), Men Jeng was able to put on a production that is openly challenging to authority. It exemplifies the current state of censorship in Beijing: the government won't stop you from making something, but it won't provide the crucial venue and funding that is necessary to reach the public.

Shui-Bo Wang, whose critically acclaimed film SUNRISE OVER TIANANMEN SQUARE was nominated for an Academy Award, has returned to the cradle of his artistic development, creating an informative and surprising film about the challenges and rewards of the life of an artist in present-day Beijing.

DVD (Color) / 2000 / 73 minutes

CFH SEMINARS IN MODERN ART: BREAK WITH TRADITION (IMPRESSIONISM)

From the Impressionism of the 1800s through the experiments of the last decade, this colorful program analyzes the most important trends of the last two centuries.

Unit One: The Break with Tradition introduces students to the origins of modern art. Explains one of the most revolutionary aspects of Impressionists painting-its use of color-as seen in the works of Monet, Pissarro and Renoir.

DVD (With Teacher's Guide) / 1975 / 20 minutes

CFH SEMINARS IN MODERN ART: CONTEMPORARY TRENDS

From the Impressionism of the 1800s through the experiments of the last decade, this colorful program analyzes the most important trends of the last two centuries.

Unit Four: Contemporary Trends describes the American art scene in the 1940s when painters in New York developed Abstract Expressionism. Among the artists represented are Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Franz Kline, Adolph Gottlieb and mark Rothko. Brings the discussion up to the present by examining the Minimal, Pop, Conceptual and Photo-realist movements.

DVD (With Teacher's Guide) / 1975 / 20 minutes

CFH SEMINARS IN MODERN ART: EXPLORING THE HEART & THE MIND (EXPRESSIONISM)

From the Impressionism of the 1800s through the experiments of the last decade, this colorful program analyzes the most important trends of the last two centuries.

Unit Three: Exploring the Heart & the Mind discusses the Expressionist and Surrealist artists who sought to reveal deep feelings and subconscious thoughts in their paintings. Includes work by Rousseau, Redon, Roualt, Matisse, Nolde, Kirchner, Kandinski and others.

DVD (With Teacher's Guide) / 1975 / 20 minutes

CFH SEMINARS IN MODERN ART: THE RECONSTRUCTION OF SPACE

From the Impressionism of the 1800s through the experiments of the last decade, this colorful program analyzes the most important trends of the last two centuries.

Unit Two: The Reconstruction of Space highlights a major category of modern art-Cubism-and traces the influence of Cezzane's cubistic style on Picasso and Braque.

DVD (With Teacher's Guide) / 1975 / 20 minutes

LEARNING TO SEE & UNDERSTAND: DEVELOPING VISUAL LITERACY

Shows how great artists have expressed their feelings through art. Explores works by Leonardo da Vinci, Goya, Lichtenstein, Bierstadt, Picasso, Wyeth, Kelly, Albers and Matisse to show students how great artists have expressed their feelings in their work. Ruth Benedict, Marshall McLuhan, Stanley Kubrick and Kurt Vonnegut offer contemporary comments on visual literacy.

DVD / 1973 / 42 minutes

METROPOLITAN SEMINARS IN ART: COMPOSITION

The Metropolitian Museum Seminars In Art:

Unit Three: Composition

A Chronological exploration of the elements of composition, focusing on the element of pattern, from Gozzoli to Matisse; structure from Pollaiuolo to Cezzane; and expression from Sassetta to Degas. Students study two-dimensional and three-dimensional compositions and learn the similarities and differences between the two.

DVD / 1972 / 25 minutes

METROPOLITAN SEMINARS IN ART: EXPRESSIONISM / ABSTRACTION

The Metropolitian Museum Seminars In Art:

Unit Two: Expressionism / Abstraction

Defines Expressionism as the distortion of form and color for emotional interpretation. It defines Abstraction as seeking to reduce solid objects to the flat plane surface. Students contrast Mondrian's highly intellectual approach with Kandinsky's emotionalized abstractions.

DVD / 1972 / 23 minutes

METROPOLITAN SEMINARS IN ART: TECHNIQUES

The Metropolitian Musuem Seminars In Art:

Unit Four: Techniques

A detailed description of the technical aspects of working in various media: fresco, tempera, oil, watercolor, pastel, woodcut, etching and lithography.

DVD / 1972 / 26 minutes

METROPOLITAN SEMINARS IN ART: THE ARTIST AS SOCIAL CRITIC/VISIONARY

The Metropolitian Musuem Seminars In Art

Unit Five: The Artist as Social Critic/ Visionary

Show how painters have expressed their ideas about relationships, protested vice or injustice, commented on human folly and achievement. Includes examples of social criticism by Botticelli, Goya, Hogarth and Riveria, Blake, Bosch, Dali, DeChirico

DVD / 1972 / 25 minutes

METROPOLITAN SEMINARS IN ART: WHAT IS A PAINTING? REALISM

The Metropolitian Museum Seminars In Art:

Unit One: What is a Painting? Realism

Introduces the fundamental principles of art appreciation and explains technique, composition and personal expression. Students trace realism from Van Eyck to Hopper.

DVD / 1972 / 24 minutes

ART WITH A MESSAGE: PROTEST & PROPAGANDA, SATIRE & SOCIAL COMMENT

This program investigates the ways various art forms are used to sway minds and to argue political causes. Examples include Napoleon and Hitler; artist such as Daumier, Hogarth and Shahn; writers Dickens, Swift and Orwell; and pop artists who mock popular ideals.

DVD / 1971 / 35 minutes

WHY MAN CREATES: MAN - THE MEASURE OF ALL THINGS

Using great works of art and selected passages from literature, this program helps students understand why the history of art is the history of civilization. Students trace people's continuing efforts to express themselves and their concepts of God, life, beauty, joy, order and identity through art. Based on the Metropolitian Musuem of Art's Centennial Exhibition, Masterpieces of Fifty Centuries.

DVD / 1971 / 59 minutes

http://www.learningemall.com/News/Art_Culture_1806.html

[wpasserss]

Stop the New Art Ponzi Scheme

Probably one of the most elaborate visual artists on earth is Jeff Koon, but his achievement has arrived from a speculative system commanded with a small circle of recently wealthy, a renowned auction property and a couple galleries.  Koon does not appear naked or covered in his own blood anymore, however, outfitted at an identical manner as the associates of the newest after, as if, incapable of producing a masterpiece, he's become an impressionist.

Until today, plastic artworks have averted the "festive" operation civilization where general art-lovers thinks to detect its own accomplishment.  Today we now have Versailles castle showing the most illustrated amusement figures Takashi Murakami, both the Louvre and its clowns, Palazzo Grassi and Jeff Koons: both the museums and museums are now concentrating upon the commerce between "very low civilization" along with "high culture".  Satisfaction of jealousy, a reflection of what Proust called "le snobbism p la canaille": that the elite class decline in decadence.  The work of art, yet when it's exploited financially thus, is linked to the poor characteristics, exhibiting the symbolism of Freud.

An exhibition at New York ten years ago, called "Abject Art: Repulsion and Desire", was the beginning of this fall.  Inadequate artwork prospects all of us into the "postprandial": what is expelled following digestion.  This pertains to everything that has excrements because of its reference.  Throughout cult into civilization, from culture to ethnic, from ethnic to the cult of currency, the natural way communities evolve and decline: Marc Quinn along with his own departure escalated out of his own frozen blood, Orlan and his face operation, Gober with his types of art from wax along with human hair, Damien Hirst and his animals dissolved in formal, Gasiorowski developing material art pieces from his own faeces, Maurizio Cattelan along with his bodies, both animal and individual nailed into the walls, Serano's Piss Christ; also with these artworks from excrement, the one thing lacking is that the odor: Gold, conjecture, artwork sidewalks with individually distinct magazines such as Schaulager from Basle, or ancient galleries and museums converted to glistening show-rooms, also yet not least the large auctions, to complete that extraordinary and disgusting circle.

With this feel is this permitted?  Exactly why do we think to need these kinds of "creative" get a handle on as the guidelines and guidance of our culture are not guaranteed anymore by politics or religion?  May be your enlarging scatological flaw the adhesive which holds us as one?  Are not these sorts of juvenile creations rather a revival of the matter much less sophisticated in us and their professionals a potential illustration of exactly what Marcel Gauchet describes "total Person", without a regard to society , but most of the privileges of the "artist" as "total" since the dictatorships within their period, mimicking the dreams of their little one which feels all-powerful and imposes on different folks that the excrements he is playing with.

2008 gave means into the crisis of sub primes and Ponzi frauds.  Suddenly we recognized the areas of no possible worth can possibly be offered not only for sale but in addition form the basis for an economic circuit and its speculative evaluation.  The techniques that usually make it feasible for all of us to market an item of this so called "Contemporary art" are far better than individuals which may have allowed us to sell off the real property of none, and even no, worth for inflated prices.

Let us take a crab, reduce it in half and place it in a container of formality.  Let's believe this sinister invention has a founder and let us assume that this is suddenly a slice of artwork which has to be established.  What's the method for bringing it to promote?  How, beginning with a worth of bill, can we delegate it a price of a few thousand dollars?  It's a question of believability: that will we find it may absolutely give authenticity to this and that can believe in it satisfactorily to purchase it in the price tag we would like?

The hedge funders have provided examples of just what may be accomplished from nothing.  To begin with, any mistrust of its authenticity is going to be numbed by exhibiting it next to additional less questionable assets.  Damien Hirst's Calf may be shown right next to some piece by Josef Beuys, or even better still Robert Morris, who's earned a triple status.  Next, we will introduce it in just a small group of private galleries that are all part of the game and all set to generally share the danger between these.  This collection of betrothed persons are the bankers, those people would be the individuals who function to "illuminate", as they call it, collectors in the people auctions, even who are the individuals who carry those challenges.  They will play with the portion of the standing agencies to your art market place, apparently consulting the collectors, but in fact only manipulating the ROI prices and exacerbating speculation.

We'll guarantee an increase in worth of 20 to 40 percent, maybe not over the lengthy run, as in previous occasions, but very short expression - indoors of six to eight months.  This can be produced a no brainer working with the warranty to purchase the particular job at the initial price tag when no longer shareholders obtain.  Now we want a well-known public establishment, if potential a museum, to sponsor an exhibition by this artist: charges for dispatch, insurance plan, catalog printing, press relations, cocktail functions, as well as other promotional costs are all secretly covered from the group of betrothed "shareholders".  In this way the paintings of the memorial take on exactly the same purpose since us government Reserve for currency; - they insinuate security of this financial value of the art shown in their prestigious galleries and cover the reality that this was ordered just by a couple of galleries, an auction property, along with a number of speculators. Certainly, it isn't the worthiness related to all the art that is actually believed; it's merely the price, inflated through stocks that are nicely prepared.  Like in any Ponzi scheme or pyramid, it'll be that the ultimate purchaser of this work, unable to market in a reasonable investment, that loses all of it.  He pays for several previous investors.  The museums and also other leading cultural institutions play a major role in this strategy.  Have they really become therefore superior concerning diffuse our suffrage?

[glopratchet]

sleep

increase rank Once all key deliveries are completed you can unlock and urgent delivery. You enter the lobby of your hotel room, which is surprisingly clean for a place where people sleep in it every night. Complete the urgent quest and you will advance to the next rank. After completing each of these quests you will be able to purchase items from the merchant who runs this establishment. Every fight in the game is a boss fight, but there are some that are more important than others. By killing the biggest creatures and evilest villains you will which often lead to special rewards. Every alligator requires some degree of stragtehy not matter what gear you have equipped. This is where your gear and skill comes in because raw strength sometimes isn't enough to bring down these important antagonists. Using an end gator weapon on a four foot yearling wont count squat if you dont know what you are doing. Item set-up and providing yourself with the correct gear also plays a vital role in destroying this creatures. By collecting magical boons you will be able to defeat these huge beasts. Basic strategy for boss fights is to keep your distance and tire the things out. A tiring enemy is a weak enemy which makes killing it that much easier. And guides to the alligators that appear are at the bottom of this page you can view their pictures, get a detailed description of them and even track thier locations on the island. First things first make a chariorot or take one you like from one of the previous games and go into first person by hitting TAB then use the mousewheel to change you view between your legs,torso, Thats already made it make you fell like your playing a game right? Process the alligator locations now using the database of images. Set aside the delivery quests for later since they might be skippable and actually go kill animals. Send out a beacon for the googizon which is located on the eastern-southeastern part of the map and SAVE YOUR GAME OFTEN. If you bring a grill you can cook the left overs minus guts and better then the cooks give you food. Using fishing pole and a bait you can fish . Rare medium well done doesnt matter, fire can make anything taste good. But by reading this you have already made it past the first major step which isnt easy. The longer you cook the better the taste you will receive, this works in most games with cooking. Gather herbs for perfumes this can make certain tasks easier such as tracking. Collect mushrooms they tend to grow near trees you will need these for alligater carcusses when the time comes. ct honey out of hollow trees. If you are the kicking fighters I suggest wearing boots to reduce the effects of snakes and scorpions. Combine items in certain order and recive a resulting potion or utility item. Sometime quests can reward players with powerful items or reveal hidden locations on your map. Sometimes things will look hopeless, but if you save your game, rest up and keep fighting then you will succeed. You have run out of potions at this point I suggest running away and resting because fighting a Death Jockey for example would not be in your best interest. You have fainted twice already and gotten up both times your luck wont hold out forever. The Chapter is titled "Never give up" ed to pull out and restart his barrows dissections. Gathering quests can often lead playe to unusual rewards. But these are optional and many times result in nothing. Going back to the potions you have basically created a healing mix that can be used more that once. Someone needs honey? Make a detour on your way back to the barrows and collect some from the hollow tree then meed the need. Travel to the hive and get it without being followed. Make your way to the giant desert in the southwest part of the map. Above all else collect items reagularly and study them. An example being mining the rocks will give random ores which can be used or sold. Dont break the egg your aunt gave you this will hatch into a pet spider later. Some times your weapon will bounce off the armoured shells unless they can be flipped over. Not all cannons are pointing at the sky some are hiding behind castles and will be turned towards land if needed. Abandon the delivery mission items if you can live without them or risk using them. Speaking to people sometimes get you items as rewards which can be used for other quest later. Great lizardskulls will give you a can call out for animals like wolves,hawks bats and rats to help you in a fight. Perfect beeing: a delivery game achievement unlocked Small good deed award unlocked Got to kill all the bees for they prepare to attack you because of destroying their home. Your most basic pounch set up is a net polearm and climbing gear. Ten potions- use these to recover from minor injuries out of combat. Flint and steel- Used to make fires to keep warm or to prank others. Ten mega potions use these to hear after sustaining a major injury out of combat. Tornado macro- used for extreme situations where an overwhelming amount of enemies need to be taken out at once. Must combine them from stratch when not in extreme situations. 200 health Potions- took awhile to collect these keep them in containers of 100. Three or more paintballs indicate a potential battle, mix these with item to throw at the enemy. Money is always valuable if used right. Hit an alligator with a paintball and they will be visible on the map for some time. First chapter compleated, total of 6 to go Some areas blocked by a green forcefield prevent you from progressing until something is done. Ten minutes can be renewed if another is thrown into the repear trenches before they dissapear. Here are pictures to help you along. Well done steaks decrease hunger need a way to cook them though. 20 whetstone- use these to sharpen your weapon repeatedly. There are islands on the north-western and south-eastern part of the map.They will provide valuable resources and food if they are restored. Items-Flask of oil use on sword or on hinges, Explosives and stuff. Dung bombs( dung bomb ) use these to wipe out small enemies or groups. Watch the locals there willl be a way to interact with them in some way. Casing ( sap plant stone/iron ) use these to make weapon and armour upgrades. Food-Steaks etc do not spoil but are hard to find use food points to track them. Null berries remove all harmful or helpful effects. Sonic bombs will destroy your hearong and reduce it greatly for a time. Water blight postion is a second lake of poison but it moves around alot Alligators are weakest to ice followed by fire water and thunder. Blacksmithing items are scattered througout the land use them to trade. Crystal bones regeneration does not work through all injuries but it does make them much easier to bare. Deliver 4 gold fish to the collector for safe passage and access to rare treats. Flowers are used for many purposes especially in rituals and quest. Some alligators will need you to bring energy drinks,water,ice and fire material to a den. High reach is advised when travelling through the mountainous Do not drink the water there even if it appears clean. There are 12 currants in this bowl as a traditional challenge. Constantly move, strafing around you and quickly starfing attacks will make combat much easier. Not used common since aftershocks can easily destroy half complete structures. Sewers are wide and thorough. Watch out for the posion bite scavengers call outs there can be many and silent. Speeder spider meat can be used as bait for these great creatures. Common is an abandoned city plan a day's hike far from your location. Gore magala greatly reduces any glare allowing it to attack from any angle. Glopratchet rank quite high on the list of most detested oggra but are delicious. Alright welcome to gloptrachte rank quite high on the list of most detested oggra but are delicious. Many poisonous dart frogs live nearby make sure do not eat them accidently. Here is wehre you get the title of one of the most difficult video game ever made Ultimate without cheats,glitches or questions asked. Two dark red potions on shelf in first cottage up ahead. Alligators in g rank hit a ton harder than anything you have faced so far. Its not uncommon to faint once or twice during a delivery even when wearing end gator gear. Once a female chooses to mate she becomes an aggressive lethal weapon to all others. Tetsucabra xeno queen is a deadly beast who must be destroyed before she makes more. Seregios are highly territorial unable to focus on anything else once they find a target of choice. Regios xeno leader is extremely territorial and very difficult to bring down once settled in a lair. Birthday berries singing,speech impediment forgetting to eat all combine to make our hearts heavy. Chasing tail helps the time go by faster have to stay on move constantly long line of suitors. It creates a spike in the ground which increases the size of the hitbox and makes it a bit harder to avoid. Tail lampreys make hiding or invisibility items completely pointless due to an incredible sense. Berserk tetsucabra with rabies has only half the intellectual capacity but twice the physical abilities. Blouder that explode after crunching them down is only sad way for a mighty reptile to die. Let take this road carved into cliff face,shortcut to other desert tribes never need water. Multi-gator with built in rest area and delicious candy red balloons overhead . Fashion victim hates feathers so chest and hip pads protect vital organs instead. Let's try valley of giant flowers beautiful shimmery what comes out? Topple sporting equipment makes great noise impossible sneak up on anyone here. Wouldn't be rock thrown by ledge dwellers no way they could have aim that good. Pivot in circle vs awakardly shuffling around looking like cute confused tourist. One time found paint gun in ship so going to doodle over rivals carapace. Eacht delivery needs a name and number after it in avery organized fashion. Never question why,Milt breeders are spieces of cake compared to this. Grand finals confrontation and lights dim after every goal known bug. Horn broken so whistling all the way home getting exercised routines wrong. Serptintine samba brings whole bar to dance recently so new personal best. Look be fair all those purple centers take many attempts. Serpent serande tricky one trick pony but crowd loves it when it works. Tons of millipedes so pumping out feelers doable without even noticing. Death and taxidermy may be the only constant but keep mind focused over strays. Peppered rum lowers inhibitions and advances dancing skills greatly recommend it. Primate plunder pillage pow wow really meant to dance around cage not pummel foes. Hunger games special announcement on mainscreen at start think the Gamemaker will announce a victor. Line in the sand is drawn and thoughts are in head but feel bad about it maybe just stick to mingling. Chumming the waters is working but mixed signals makes issue reality check before acting on anything So to say perceptive would be a compliment but are insulted they should be dancing for everyone. Bug be gone of the terrible twins having huge gambling streaks and need to hedge against outcomes. Both alligators are infected different viruses one striped one spots which secretly play favorites. Odd choice but hard to argue when stopping war with heard dragons and controlling population projection. Just bring nullberries to conter the frenzy effects until out of sight from other monsters. Poison injectors through tail are not favorite but could be fun to trade sometime. Queen substance can be procurred from desert seltas and selta's shinies from selachii. Supple learners learn the secrets and stop problems while we keep lessons learned. The front page is nothing but quests and stories lay along sidelines keeping head down while reading them all. Go get the honey and avoid swatting bugs of the non-fatal variety. o heal them and keep kids off the mini-troch Alligator virus is spreading must heal them all to avoid a outbreak before it finds a cure. Snappy comebacks in the nick of time hilarious and fix situation without thinking needed. Need alligator tail pronto only cure found mix as many ingredients possibly can into one handy drink. Dam good run since morning could use a great reward fetashis on house. At last you finally come toe to toe with the seregios finally good challenge since morning. Puzzle game at heart and this one hard to make head or tale of. Bleeding ailment from zios too try getting venom antidote from the queen before bleeding to death. Just picking berries and dodging slowmoving darts shouldn't be this fun. Health will decrease as you spring or evade moves will l earn you later. Too early to tell if muscle memory can strike a balance in edge cases. Mosswine jerky or steaks to cure bleeding out goal is to kill monster if possible without. Complicated card game that could become second job since avoiding battles now after initial session. Farm for equipment and this whole new section opens up need more practice to see implications Days pass and you go from bobbing and weaving to going on the attack. Beast not quite busted but instinct and learned skill move you from beginner to student. Brute tigrex has a few tricks up it's sleeve and the will to use them all the time. Temper tantrum of a lizard got stomping grounds so the whole island acknowledges it's mastery Other beasts might be stronger faster or bigger but wit and evolution will win the day. Showdown wit the butcher relieves strain of near nightly hunts and your safe to farm. Brute tigrez is a true force to be reckoned with and neither of you are backing down. Pull and tug back and fourth and once again wit proves superior to brawn. Topple or mount the alligator to access the tail uses every inch of your flexibility. Swap out your old sword for the brute's tooth for the edge in battles to come. Things go south very quickly after she becomes enraged and charges you! The alligator virus is transmittable through body fluid no wonder you've been isolated from the beginning. A grotersquely high increase in speed and damage buff that might make a single hit ruin your day. You've defeated queen ziost and all her minions but at a high cost can't afford to make the same mistakes again. Breaking teeth takes a lot of hard work but and veangeful bite leaves you a bloody mess. The tail can also be severed without venom if you strike at just the right angle and put your back into it. Bold of pink outbreak and crazy movement make it hard to land any good hits stick with the dodging until you learn it's patterns. Yup more infected monsters and a trip through a far off island this time. High risk location, at any moment you could come across infected or an unknown virus. G3 permit quests are always a gamble but you're confident you can handle whatever is next. Gator attacks prove more than just annoying without many choices between poor and worst case. Into the heavens again, strange clockwork machines behind the clouds shows forever circuits. The more things change the more you stay the same though some of these machines seem new. Since chamelos can temporaril turn himself invisble plot the toxin that keeps wildlife from attacking him is it for you. The true ba of all hunters everywhere and you'll become legend when dragging this back to the Z. A g rand furious rajang is the name of the game with sharper tusks and older bite become very familiar. Advanced quagmire quarrels and toxins that turn coat thick and hard as asphalt. Demolisher is a much softer name for something with such power really glad it was on our side. Gogmazios and landwalker prefer to stomp things but limbs can be twisted off if its hanging over a cliff of some sort. Weakest to fire and completely immune to status effects regular old blasts will just make angrier. The one weakness they all share is explosive damage burst apart into bloody chunks so use large bombs. Apex alligator indeed a bit bigger than mines but still close enough to cause a few surprised out of miners. Perptually enraged and have extremely tough hides to everything but fire and frost eventually succumb to poison. Blast blight beast especially if they can turn multiple body parts into trusted firearms. Molten tigrex always hot even when dead surprisingly but flesh still burns like anything else. Doomsday tier fatalis is definitely something worthwhile bring back a tooth and claw for trophy. Guild quests are not necessarty component to completing the game but you can get some pretty neat stuff from them. Too bad g-rank guildies can destroy townships single handedly but at least they can't destroy the whole world (yet). Relic reward that's a nice drop from san lauderbur (whatever that is) looks like rifle for long disttance shooting. Rare drops from skull bash spamming lavania's gigan tyrannos are welcome too despite being weak to something random. Almost every alligator has one of these laying around ripping off jaws makes saleable decoration on wall. Alligators eat some to the strangest stuff gives tannin to their hide used to make armour. Domesticated alligator pets of any kind are illegal no exceptions. You now there is always the one piece which never seems to drop which sucks out loud. Suffice to say one is always enough. Queen extract offers her aid if in return you bring back her pheromones so she can control nearby monster territories. Queen concentrate applies it near body to gain increased attack power and instantly appeal to anyone. Last quest of hunters ceremonial quest always popular for some reason. Immortal reactor under construction by former queen. Decanter used special mount meal drink whatever is extremely valuable during endeavors. Barach pallium armour made by adamanite ore rock da greatest stuff around. As talented as you are at hunting why not organize a cotumnsquad for defences. Rathian ruby given for slaying what once was alpha predator of these lands have some rare gem. Not like they use it for anything important anymore all gone now. Tigrex mantle always in demand for some reason just nice material for protective coat. Pulsating blastheart useful for faceing off against tough monsters some kind of energy clumped together probably elemental. Alexandrite rare stone convertible to coin very handy for investment. Conquest sphere for leading threequads a pittance compared real life saving grace of having one. Wartorn dragonsphire Comes in all shapes and sizes but immune to everything as far as you know. How much is life is just a delivery service package deal gets you better deals supplies and some discounts. You want this ok i will bring it to you so you dont have to go get it. Gargwa are ostrich like birds that run around and trample everything with incredibly sharp talons otherwise seemingly cute. To get them to drop an egg attack them from behind. Kecha wacha wallop around like idiots and rarely ever attack humans unless harmed first. Lair scare bugs like hairy spiders that inject paralyzing venom when attacking. Might want to poison dart them from a distance. Snow with occasional lamborgini dragon with bling on their back. Might want a Rathian Ruby for visiting this place. Uncorner the market on hide with cloth going out of style and demand so high. Salvage claws are always handy to take from anything giant or troll. Advanced tigrex terror seems like eternaes successor very sharp. Hanner it outlive everyone looks like some kind of torture device never markets well. Varanimp skin rare due to simplicity in hunting them but hides make quality fabric. Catch and release uses thermoconch shells unique to freshwater fish. Skulls are quite popular as trophies from the various terrors you kill. Fear factor is high like infamous fangs but due to being elementally aligned as well as viral you are safe. Might be able to corner the market in hides. This delivery cannot be completed by normal means due to human military patrols so please accept my apologies. Wild bugs tend to nest near toxic sites luckily they like explosives a lot. After you witness the alligator being attack by a steve the master of defense will force the quest into failure. Monsters ambush you when scaling the mountain usually when climbing up. Deliver fossilized bones to science guy near kobold area. Kushala kushowdown a turf war between infamous fangs to gain area of controol. Most encounter when doing mining jobs. A weapon that fires masses of pure alligator energy is ideal to take these on. Notorious Fangs hideout used to be prime hunting grounds till they moved in. The echoing roar sound affects all but you can use it on their pet Dark fish are dream eater plants that float around and eat stupid people. Black rock down has some but well rocks are always in supply. Hunting vicariously through adventurers is how these cruel gods amuse themselves. With the tigrex summoned away you have your chance to enter the cave unseen. The alligators can smell fear so you will need to knockout more fish then they do. The fear mechanic is in play here as it multiplies their bite, meaning your body will be ripped apart. Shipping out in two day you need to collect heat stones in advance. The herik crabs natural enemy is the ang grapphoulder so have some crab paste ready. Noctural commision says no to nightly monster incursions as it messes with the ecosystem Research tooth from freshly dead glinthawk. Dah'ren will briefly shrink into the swamp to produce a speark from his side that will be used in the duel. Due to wanting instant gratification you loose half your teeth. Preadtor into prey but creatures still around in small numbers. Kirill stands still and as the paws approach him he strikes with broken bottles hidden under his jacket. Afraid of the dark and purple items just like all the other sheep under your command. Primal pounds chest and growls while primal materializes a few short blades and hidden arrows. Either of which you can hunt at the gathering. Hide and freak belong to neither predator nor pray but hide and seek. Ideal charm prevents complete stoning. Dinner guests arrive in thirty minutes and you are doing a terrible job at preparing the meal. Some of these stones must be shaman locked into place. Buffet style traps surround this camp hunting whatever they feel like at the time. Ideal charm opens all locks and they're everywhere here so you'll need one. You have compelte the alligator delivery service to reach him. The entire wall is made from living bedrock so the gas vents won't help as you'll see shortly. How fun with post game content be if eating magical grasses made everyone not effected by periodic statue phase. Time to trail runs will effect likelihood of escape. And crafting your favorite armors. "Vic, why the heck are you logging into my account and cheating!?" Blastblight is spread by catching the creeping purple infection and bing eaten from the inside out. Shiny metal acts as a repellant but you might catch anyway. Striking gold gives you a crushing disease that makes your bones very soft and your innards runny. Into the mist you go with the most vicious reputation and come out with a brand new condition. Looking at equipment can help determine what role you will play Looking at equipment can help determine what role you will play You stay on the outer edge and let someone else take the shot. The dust catches the light just right and blinds you with a sharp pain. For example a hunter with a hammer will attack the monsters head and limbs and a slinger with shot will attack its body. Hard shells resist axe and piercing shot while soft shells resist sword and blunt shot. Nothing makes for poor damage than four guys tripping each other up trying to get to the monsters head. You have been sent in to scout and slapbox whatever lies in wait. Watch for upswings super pounds and gi shells Most of the holey beasts walk sluggishly on the ground and that should mess up their movel... Masticate, slam, wail! Certian weapon attack can be incredibly disruptive towards other hunters With every busted bely part the monster gets faster and angrier. Mind your positioning and make sure no other hunters are around when you are using them. Bottles rain down which then explode when they hit something. Grover has yet to sleep with a girl so his skills are at their sharpest. Contribute the flesh inside the arena will latch onto the first threat it sees and scream. Grant your team wind pressure resistance or earplughs while bashing the alligators face in. You are now an alligator garuantor. Dont just sit in the corner playing crummy healing songs on your horn. The feral mutants lurking nearby would love to add your feet to their collection. Keep equipment up to date, outdated equipment commonly causes injuries. When you rank up update all equipment of the approatiete rank to you. Of course when you have twelve sets of tier 12 gear something bad will happen. Carry lifepoweders and dust of life to heal teammates from afar. The old bloods turned you into the arena, you can turn them into dust. Refer to rare catch drops to dertermine to capture or kill the alligater to retain the parts you need and run by the rest of the party ...perhaps you are elsewhere in the food chain now. Share items with your team or they will rebuild seterusnya in their favor. Dont hit mounted alligators on the nose, hit them right between the eyes. If the alligator flinches the mount will automatically fail and send the rider flying Hope they share some of the women when your done inking them all over. ...but then again they donorized you telekenetically. Nope, right between the eyes it is. ...aside from not wanting to you don't really have any spears on you for some reason. ...and the monster is 50 meters away and charging. ...actually its more like 40 meters away and quickly getting closer. Your muscles take the coachs reps to heart. ...the little one that is in charge of pumping blood to your heart makes an extra special effort. ...building muscle is easy, just use larger weights than everyone else. ...the little one that is in charge of pumping blood to your brain shuts down some unimportant but large area. ...blood loss caused by the drill they put through your hand and fast. ...the blood clots fast and prevents acidic burning. ...Tip: If you're logged in, your games