#it makes me feel kind of weird to be such a central player at tables

[henpeckedho]

Nothing like a chronic illness flair making my (potential) death count for me being the reason D&D games stop at 100%. I asked these tables to keep going but one is definitely refusing until I can make it back and I'm not sure about the other one.

I'm going to try and get these restarted but I've been pushing past my limits for a while because of the games and so I'm just...coming to a stop. Even just the one night out/focused sitting at a computer is completely wiping me out for days. And I have 1-2 game nights a week. Basically as soon as I recover I'm taken out again.

I still have a concert in a month I'm going to try and go to. I have an entire month of rest prior to and I will have the opportunity to sleep for 24-48 hrs immediately before and I can take it easy the entire week afterwards. It's still going to be a gamble but that'll be my last outing for a few months, I think, so I can kind of take the hit.

[supercantaloupe]

okay yeah actually, i’ll bite. i’ve got some of my own thoughts about the unsleeping city and cultural representation and i’m gonna make a post about them now, i guess. i’ll put it under a cut though because this post is gonna be long.

i wanna start by saying i love dimension 20 and i really really enjoy the unsleeping city. i look forward to watching new episodes every week, and getting hooked on d20 as a whole last summer really helped pull me out of a pandemic depression, and i’m grateful to have this cool show to be excited about and interested in and to have met so many cool people to talk about it with.

that being said, however, i think there is a risk run in representing any group of people/their culture when you have the kind of setting that tuc has. by which i mean, tuc is set in a real world with real people and real human cultures in it. unlike fantasy high or a crown of candy where everything is made up (even if rooted in real-world cultures), tuc is explicitly rooted in reality, and all of its diversity -- both the ups and downs that go with it. and especially set in new york of all places, one of the most densely, diversely populated cities on earth. the cast is 7 people; it’s great that those 7 people come from a variety of backgrounds and identities and all bring their own unique perspectives to the table, and it’s great that those people and the entire crew are generally conscious of themselves and desire to tell stories/represent perspectives ethically. but you simply cannot authentically represent every culture or every perspective in the world (or even just in a city) when your cast is 7 people. it’s an impossible task. this is inherent to the setting, and acknowledged by the cast, and by brennan especially, who has been on record saying how one of the exciting aspects of doing a campaign set in nyc is its diversity, the fact that no two new yorkers have the same perspective of new york. i think that’s a good thing -- but it does have its challenges too, clearly.

i’m not going to go into detail on the question of whether or not tuc’s presentation of asian and asian american culture is appropriative/offensive or not. first of all, i don’t feel like it’s 100% fair to judge the show completely yet, since it’s a prerecorded season and currently airing midseason, so i don’t yet know how things wrap up. secondly, i’m not asian or asian american. i can have my own opinions on that content in the show, but i think it’s worth more to hear actual asian and asian american voices on this specific aspect of the show. having an asian american cast member doesn’t automatically absolve the show of any criticisms with regard to asian american cultural representation/appropriation, whether those criticisms are made by dozens of viewers or only a handful of them. regardless, i don’t think it’s my place as someone who is not asian to speak with any authority on that issue, and i know for a fact that there are asian american viewers sharing their own opinions. their thoughts in this instance hold more water than mine, i think.

what i will comment on in more depth, though, is a personal frustration with tuc. i’m jewish; i’ve never really been shy about that fact on my page here. i’m not from new york, but i visit a few times a year (or i did before covid anyway, lol), and i have some family from nyc. nyc, to me, is a jewish city. and for good reason, since it’s home to one of the largest jewish populations of the country, and even the world, and aspects of jewish culture (including culinary, like bagels and pastrami, and linguistic, like the common use of yiddish words and phrases in english colloquial speech) are prevalent and celebrated among jews and goyim alike. when i think of nyc, i think of a jewish city; that’s not everybody’s new york, but that’s my new york, and thats plenty of other people’s new york too. so i do find myself slightly disappointed or frustrated in tuc for its, in my opinion, rather stark lack of jewish representation.

now, i’m not saying that one of the PCs should have been jewish, full stop. i love to headcanon iga as jewish even though canon does not support that interpretation, and i’m fine with that. she’s not my character. it’s possible that simply no one thought of playing a jewish character, i dunno. but also, and i can’t be sure about this, i’m willing to bet that none of the players really wanted to play a jewish character because they didn’t want to play a character of a marginalized culture they dont belong to in the interest of avoiding stereotyping or offensive representation/cultural appropriation. (i don’t know if any of the cast members are jewish, but i’m assuming not.) and the concern there is certainly appreciated; there’s not a ton of mainstream jewish rep out there, and often what we get is either “unlikeable overly conservative hassidic jew” or “jokes about their bar mitzvah/one-off joke about hanukkah and then their jewishness is never mentioned ever again,” which sucks. it would be really cool to see some more good casual jewish rep in a well-rounded, three-dimensional character in the main cast of a show! even if there are a couple of stumbles along the way -- nobody is perfect and no two jews have the same level of knowledge, dedication, and adherence to their culture.

but at the same time, i look at characters like iga and i really do long for a jewish character to be there. siobhan isn’t polish, yet she’s playing a characters whose identity as a polish immigrant to new york is very central to her story and arc. and part of me wonders why we can’t have the same for a jewish character. if not a PC, then why not an NPC? again, i’m jewish, and i am not native, but in my opinion i think the inclusion of jj is wonderful -- i think there are even fewer native main characters in mainstream media than there are jewish ones, and it’s great to see a native character who is both in touch with their culture as well as not being defined solely by their native-ness. to what extent does it count as ‘appropriative’ because brennan is a white dude? i dunno, but i’m like 99% sure they talked to sensitivity consultants to make sure the representation was as ethical as they could get it, and anyway, i can’t personally see and glaring missteps so far. but again, i’m not native, and if there are native viewers with their own opinions on jj, i’d be really interested in hearing them.

but getting back to the relative lack of jewish representation. it just...disappoints me that jewishness in new york is hardly ever even really mentioned? again, i know we’re only just over halfway through season 2, but also, we had a whole first season too. and it’s definitely not all bad. for example: willy! gd, i love willy so much. him being a golem of williamsburg makes me really really happy -- a jewish mythological creature animated from clay/mud (in this case bricks) to protect a jewish community (like that of williamsburg, a center for many of nyc’s jews) from threat. golem have so often been taken out of their original context and turned into evil monsters in fantasy settings, especially including dnd. (even within other seasons of d20! crush in fh being referred to as a “pavement golem” always rubbed me the wrong way, and i had hoped they’d learned better after tuc but in acoc they refer to another monster as a “corn golem” which just disappointed me all over again.) so the fact that tuc gets golems right makes my jewish heart very happy.

and yet...he doesn’t show up that much? sure, in s1, he’s very helpful when he does, but in s2 so far he shows up once and really does not say or do much of anything. he speaks with a lot more yiddish-influenced language than other characters, but if you didn’t know those words were specifically yiddish/jewish, you might not be able to otherwise clock the fact that willy is jewish. and while willy is a jewish mythological creature who is jewish in canon, he isn’t human. there are no other direct references to judaism, jewish characters, or jewish culture in the unsleeping city beyond him.

there are, in fact, two other canon jewish characters in tuc. but...here’s where i feel the most frustration, i think. the two canon jewish humans in tuc are stephen sondheim and robert moses. both of whom are real actual people, so it’s not like we can just pick and choose what their cultural backgrounds are. as much as i love stephen sondheim, i think there are inherent issues with including real world people as characters in a fictional setting, especially if they are from living/recent memory (sondheim is literally still alive), but anyway, sondheim and moses are both actual jewish people. from watching tuc alone you probably would not be able to guess that sondheim is jewish -- nothing from his character except name suggests it, and i wouldn’t even fault you for not thinking ‘sondheim’ is a jewish-sounding surname (and i dislike the idea/attitude/belief that you can tell who is or isn’t jewish by the sound of their name). and yeah, i’m not going to sit here and be like “brennan should have made sondheim more visibly jewish in canon!” because, like, he’s a real human being and it’s fucking weird to portray him in a way that isn’t as close to how he publicly presents himself, which is not in fact very identifiably jewish? i don’t know, this is what i mean by it’s inherently weird and arguably problematic to portray real living people as characters in a fictional setting, but i digress. sondheim’s jewish, even if you wouldn’t know it; not exactly a representation win.

and then there’s bob moses. you might be able to guess that he’s jewish from canon, actually. there’s the name, of course. but more insidious to me are the specifics of his villainy. greedy and powerhungry, a moneyman, a lich whose power is stored in a phylactery...it does kind of all add up to a Yikes from me. (in the stock market fight there’s a one-off line asking if he has green skin; it’s never really directly acknowledged or answered, but it made me really uncomfortable to hear at first and it’s stuck with me since viewing for the first time.) the issue for me here is that the most obviously jewish human character is the season’s bbeg, and his villainy is rooted in very antisemitic tropes and stereotypes.

i know this isn’t all brennan’s fault -- robert moses was a real ass person and he was in fact jewish, a powerhungry and greedy moneyman, a big giant racist asshole, etc. i’m not saying that jewish characters can’t be evil, and i’m not saying brennan should have tried to be like “this is my NPC robert christian he’s just like bob moses but instead he’s a goy so it’s okay” because...that would be fuckin weird bro. and bob moses was a real person who was jewish and really did do some heinous shit with his municipal power. i’m not necessarily saying brennan should have picked/created a different character to be the villain. i’m not even saying that he shouldn’t have made bob moses a lich (although, again, it doesn’t 100% sit right with me). but my point here is that bob moses is one of a grand total of three canon jewish characters in tuc, of which only two humans, of whom he is the one you’d most easily guess would be jewish and is the most influenced by antisemitic stereotypes/tropes. had there been more jewish representation in the show at all, even just some neutral jewish NPCs, this would not be as much of a problem as it is to me. but halfway through season 2, so far, this is literally all we get. and that bums me out.

listen, i really like tuc. i love d20. but the fact that it is set in a real world place with real world people does inherently raise challenges when it comes to ethical cultural representation. especially when the medium of the show is a game whose creatures, lore, and mechanics have been historically rooted in some questionable racial/cultural views. and dnd is making progress to correct some of those misguided views of older sourcebooks by updating them to more equitably reflect real world racial/cultural sensitivities; that’s a good thing! but these seasons, of course, were recorded before that. the game itself has some questionable cultural stuff baked into it, and that is (almost necessarily) going to be brought to the table in a campaign set in a real-world place filled with real-world people of diverse real-world cultures. the cast can have sensitivity consultants and empathy and the best intentions in the world, and they’ll still fuck up from time to time, that’s okay. your mileage may vary on whether or not it’s still worth sticking around with the show (or the fandom) through that. for me, it does not yet outweigh all the things i like about the show, and i’m gonna continue watching it. but it’s still very worth acknowledging that the cast is 7 people who cannot possibly hope to authentically or gracefully represent every culture in nyc. it’s an unfortunate limitation of the medium. yet it’s also still worthwhile to acknowledge and discuss the cultural representation as it is in the show -- both the goods and the bads, the ethically solid and the questionably appropriative -- and even to hold the creators accountable. (decently, though. i’m definitely not advocating anybody cyberbully brennan on twitter or whatever.) the show and its representation is far from perfect, but i also don’t think it ever could be. still, though, it could always be better, and there’s a worthwhile discussion to be had in the wheres, hows, and whys of that.

[sirpoley]

On the Four Table Legs of Traveller, Leg 1: Mortgages

Mongoose Traveller's starship mortgage-payment-system is the most brilliant game mechanic I've ever encountered, as a DM. It's also the first rule I'd ignore if I wasn't consciously trying to play the game exactly how it's described in the book.

A Bit of Background

I've been involved in two Traveller campaigns in the past as a player (both with the same DM), and am currently DMing a third. All of them are using Mongoose's first edition. I've never played any other edition of traveller, and know almost nothing about the history of the game. I don't know which mechanics are unique to this edition of Traveller and which have been around for decades.

In the campaigns in which I was a player, I think the DM was continually frustrated with the rules of the game. He wanted to run a tight, story-focused campaign and picked up Traveller assuming it would be, essentially, D&D in space. For his second campaign, he chopped out huge chunks of the ruleset and replaced it with homebrew ones, removing space travel and Traveller's quirky character creation entirely. This worked for the game he wanted to run (he's an extraordinarily talented DM), but I think we all came away feeling pretty lukewarm about the actual rules.

Bored out of my mind in lockdown, desperate for anything to shake up the daily routine, I picked up the copy of Traveller that had been sitting on my bookshelf, untouched, and skimmed through it. In a mood of "I'll humour this weird rulebook," I followed the random subsector creation chapter to the letter, creating a surprisingly-well fleshed out chunk of space to play around in.

It was then that I realized I'd never actually played Traveller. So I dragged my partner along in an experiment: let's play Traveller, exactly how it is described in the book, no matter how flat-out insane the rules seem to be. I will only consider houseruling or changing a rule once we've both figured out what it's for. I learned a ton in this experiment, so, during my kid's naps (oh, right, I have a daughter now, that's where I disappeared to, Internet), I'll write about what I've learned.

(The Carlia Subsector. Not pictured: along with this map is a LONG word document describing the atmosphere, gravity, population, tech level, cultural quirks, government, etc. of the main world in each of these systems, plus a huge table of the price of dozens of trade goods on each planet. These, it turns out, are crucial game aids. I'll get into them later.)

Traveller, I've learned, is a table held up by four legs: Finances, Character Creation, Patrons, and Random Encounters. If you remove any of these legs, the rest of the game stops working. Following them, as described, gives you a rip-roaring swashbuckling adventure of fighting pirates, escaping bounty hunters, smuggling, jailbreaks, and all that good stuff you want in a campaign—but it happens spontaneously. I'll get into it more in detail, but for now, we're going to talk about finances in Traveller.

Yes, the Game Is About Mortgage Payments

The central driving mechanic of Traveller is making mortgage payments for your starship. The assumption is that the player characters are part-owners of an FTL-capable starship that's more expensive than any one person, or any ten people, could ever afford outright. The game (thankfully) provides a quick way to calculate your starship's mortgage payments (something like the value of the ship/240 per month), and for all of the example ships in the book, gives them to you pre-calculated. In the case of my solo campaign, my partner owed the bank a whopping 500,000 credits a month for her Corsair. For scale, that's the exact same price as the single most powerful gun in the game (the "Fusion Gun, Man Portable"), owed monthly. In D&D terms, she had to raise the equivalent of a +5 Longsword every. Single. Month.

(In addition to mortgage payments are smaller fees: life support (i.e., food and water), crew salaries, fuel, and ship maintenance, but the mortgage is by far the largest single expense, so that's what I'll focus on).

I started my partner out with a fueled up and fully-crewed ship (we used pre-generated NPC stats from the middle of the book for her crew, plus an NPC who was generated during her character creation, which I'll get into later). Character creation started her with 10,000 credits, and I told her she had until the end of the month to multiply that by fifty times.

Debt Leads to Trade

The fastest way by far in Traveller to make money is to interact with the very well fleshed-out trade rules. Each spaceship has a certain amount of tons of cargo it can carry, and each world has a list of trade goods for sale at various prices. So the clear way to raise that 500 grand was to speculatively buy trade goods, pick up passengers and freight, deliver mail, and so on. These rules are generous; by stacking modifiers, it's possible to reliably quadruple your principal every time you reach a new planet (which happens every week).

I think my old DM severely nerfed the trade rules (he also didn't enforce mortgage payments, leaving them on the cutting room floor like D&D's Encumbrance rules) due to this seemingly-unbalanced generosity. Again: the best gun in the game is 500,000 credits—so how on earth can a system that lets you make hundreds, even millions, of credits by trading stand?

Well, it turns out, the bank simply taking 95% of your player's earnings every month severely dampens potentially-snowballing nonlinear growth, so my partner and I never saw the kind of wealth explosion that looks inevitable from the rules as written, despite her scraping together everything she could do maximize profits. In all the time we've been playing, despite having already made millions of credits, she actually hasn't been able to buy a gun better than her starting laser pistol, or, in fact, any armour at all. I'll get to why in a moment, because the most important thing about the trade system is that…

Trade Leads to Travel

Garden worlds sell cheap food. High-population worlds buy food for a high price. High-population worlds sell manufactured goods that are in high-demand on non-industrial worlds, and so on. In a quest to maximize profits, the party was locked into a continual tour of the subsector I generated earlier, constantly moving from place to place. Staying put for any length of time meant letting time trickle away (time that could be spent raking in cash for crippling mortgage payments), so that wasn't an option. What wound up happening was that the party went on a self-guided tour of the subsector, stopping in at colourful worlds I'd generated earlier. This happened entirely without me, as DM, having to dangle bait in front of the party the way that I always have to in D&D. Travel is good, because…

Travel Leads to Conflict

I've already spoken at length on the subject of random encounters here, but Traveller really builds the game around random tables in an elegant way. Every time the party jumps from one world to another, there's a chance they'll get waylaid by pirates (the rulebook has a fun, albeit hidden, 'pirate table' that describes different tricks and hijinks that pirates use to attack). 'Pirates' in Traveller are spaceship owners unable to pay their mortgages by legitimate means, so turn to piracy. The fact that the party is always carrying their life savings in trade commodities whenever they travel around makes them a prime target for piracy, and leads to combat with stakes beyond "fight till everyone's dead." The pirates aren't orcs, and don't want to kill the players for no reason. They want to take their cargo and get away as quickly as possible, suffering the least damage as possible, and the players want the opposite. Thus: pre-combat negotiations, tricks, hijinks (my partner, carrying a cargo of "domestic goods," chose to have her crew throw individual toasters out of the cargo bay each in different directions to ensure that the pirates had to engage in lengthy EVA-missions to catch them each, thus allowing her ship to escape without suffering damage).

Traveller's starship battle rules are fun (and integrate into boarding actions that results in player-scale combat), and are triggered primarily just by moving around. Conflict is fun by itself (that's why combat rules are most of the rules in most games), but in this context, have the added advantage, as…

Conflict Leads to Tradeoffs

It became clear to my partner after her first run-in with pirates that her ship and crew were under-gunned. While buying powerful weapons and armour is trivially cheap compared to the amount of money she was raking in through trade (most weapons cap out at a few thousand credits, and she was moving hundreds of thousands a week), actually getting her hands on some was another matter.

Good weapons in Traveller are advanced ones, which have a high-TL (tech level) rating. These weapons are only available on high-TL worlds (each world has a TL rating generated in subsector generation). Making a detour from trading to buy 'adventuring equipment' wound up being an extremely costly endeavour, taking the party weeks out of the way of the most profitable trade route. The closest world in which these weapons exist also outlaws all weapons (various laws are generated procedurally as well) which means engaging in black market smuggling (which is fleshed out in the rules) and risks run-ins with the law.

Compounding this problem was that her Corsair took minor damage in the combat with the pirates, and the nearest world with a shipyard capable of repairing the ship was different from, and out of the way of, the high tech world with fancy fusion guns. Also, getting the ship repaired meant that it would be in drydock for days or even weeks, which incurs an opportunity cost of almost a million credits that could have been made during trade…

Tradeoffs lead to Debt

In her case, she wound up getting her ship repaired, forgoing arming herself and her crew, and skirting dangerously close to bankruptcy kicking her heels as her ship was patched up. There isn't an easy answer to what she 'ought' to have done, which was fun as hell. Further, as a DM, I wasn't annoyed that she was 'messing up the plot' by staying put (or frustrated that she wasn't going to my elaborately-plotted narrative that would occur when she tried to buy black market weapons) because there was no plot. Everything that came about emerged procedurally.

The 'Loop'

The beating heart of a Traveller sandbox campaign is this loop:

Without DM intervention (or Patrons, which are sort of procedurally-generated adventure hooks), this loop can sustain a campaign pretty much indefinitely. What this means as a DM is that any DM-interventions (i.e., adding in pre-written adventure hooks or encounters or whatever) can be attached to any of these steps to allow it to come about during play. It also means that if you don't have any pre-scripted content (to choose an example completely at random, let's just say your hypothetical one-year-old threw your notes in a toilet) you can just sit back and let the loop above take care of providing entertainment.

To bring this back to mortgages, if your players don't have the threat of having their spaceship repossessed by the bank hanging over them like the Doom of Damocles, then the whole system breaks down, and the DM has to do all the heavy lifting of providing character motivation to go explore new planets.

Next, we'll talk about how Traveller's patron system ties into all of this.

[razorblade180]

Nothing to worry about

After many, many attempts to decode the data to find Sora, Riku was spent. A thought came to him that maybe if he messed with data with the difficulties all the way up, then something might change. It had to be his third day screwing up on the same attacks over and over again. He didn’t remember fighting the organization to be this hard! Riku was a prideful guy that managed to beat most of them but enough was enough! He had been stuck on one obstacle for far too long and his hands hurt from hitting the wall the one time he rage quit. It was time to bring in backup, and he knew just the people…

Xion:You want me to want?

Riku:Beat data Xion for me. You’re too strong.

Roxas:It’s a computer…

Axel:Dude, you don’t get to say that when you smash computers instead of pressing keys.

Saix:You What?

Riku:Focus!!! I called you specifically because you’ve fought Xion, fought Sora, and some of you have done both while technically being connected to Sora; so you know how to play him well.

Axel:I feel like you’re missing people.

Riku:People are busy. You are the only ones that are still around a lot.

Xion:Am I really that tough?

Riku:Painfully.

Xion:Hmmm. I’m not sure how I feel about fighting myself. Something about it feels...depressing.

Axel:I’ll do it. I’m great at games! Plus we’ve fought a bunch of times! I know your moves.

Xion:But you lost…

Axel:Still learned them! *sits down* Watch the master!

That was the statement he made. It’s been three hours since Axel had that confidence. Now he was face down on the bed in the committee room along with Riku. If he heard “why do you fight” one more time, he’d lose his mind.

Axel:Since when do you bounce around like a ball of light!?

Roxas:Why are you surprised? I do it all the time.

Axel:I don’t even understand how you do it!!!

Saix:I can’t believe you didn’t even get half health.

Axel:Think you can do better!?

Saix:Nope, but I won’t act like I can to look cool. Xion, I’ve never seen you do half of the things that program does. Is it an exaggeration or…?

Xion:No, it’s possible. Doing all of that just makes me tired.

Saix:...(I never stood a chance in that graveyard. Then again I try not to go full berserk for the same reason.)

Roxas:My turn! I’m not exactly thrilled about fighting any version of you but helping Sora is the goal here. I just hope Cid didn’t program all of your armors. Not a big fan of the second one or you being the size of the central station tower.

Xion:*red* Hehehe...yeah that was pretty wild.

RAS:You can do what…?”

The change of players was getting better results. Roxas was in his third attempt when he started getting a good rhythm. Watching Axel helped, but there was something else. A weird six sense. Riku was right about him controlling Sora, it felt natural. Battling data Xion was the same. The way he predicted her movements were scarily good.

Axel:Wow, look at you go.

Roxas:Sssshhh, I need focus. I wanna do this as fast as possible. It might be data but hurting Xion feels wrong.

Xion:*red* Roxas…

The man makes it to the desperation move. It’s the second time he’s made it here and he wished data Xion had the armors instead! He didn’t last long before another game over screen. Everyone groaned while Roxas rested his head on the wooden desk.

Roxas:Gah! I can’t even begin to understand those patterns. Your columns of light move way too wildly!

Riku:I hate the fact that if you recover from a strike raid then the next one is delayed to change your rhythm! Why are you so smart Xion?

Xion:Sora does that too. It’s how to survive relentless attacks sometimes. I’ve told you all the timing so-

Roxas:Xion, I really don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but you might as well grab the controller. The only person who knows you, is you.

Xion:And Ven, and Namine, you, Sora, Kai- fine I’ll give it a try!

Riku:Thank you.

Xion died immediately going into the fight. All eyes looked at her in disbelief as her face got red.

Xion:I wasn’t ready! Let me get a few warm up rounds in! I have never done anything like this. Roxas, can you go back to Twilight Town and get a small white bag in the usual spot?

Roxas:Okay.

A few warm up rounds turned into a dozen. Riku even saw her scroll through the settings once or twice. Then she wouldn’t do the fight right away. Instead she’d press bottoms to see how Sora reacted and fast. He didn’t want to be antsy but a piece of him wanted to try again. Riku went over to ask when Roxas came through the door to hand her the bag. Xion ran the program again. She reached in the bag as it loaded and pulled out something Riku didn’t know she still had. Her organization gloves.

Riku:You kept those?

Xion:Gripping a keyblade barehanded feels weird. So does messing with computers…

Data Xion:Why do you f-

Xion:Yeah we know the line…

Riku never considered himself good at things like video games or computers, but he didn’t think he was bad either. That was until he watched Xion start moving her fingers faster than he could keep track off. The whole room was silent except for the sound of clicking. Data Sora was moving at speeds and performing tricks Riku and the others didn’t even know about. He wasn’t getting hit at all!!! Axel could quietly hear Xion mumble numbers. A set amount when she attacked, and then a different set when the data version did. The sets kept resting and ending differently depending on what weapon she used or magic. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

Axel:H-How?

Xion:How what?

Roxas:How are you doing this!?

Xion:Like you and Riku said. I know me, as well as Sora. I’m only gonna get hit so many times before I find a chance to counter. Also, there’s only so many moves you can program. It’s still just code!

She made it sound so easy, yet Riku. Can only think about how many times late last night he couldn’t figure out a single time to appropriately heal or attack. Yet here Xion is, perfect blocking and interrupting the desperation move. She even found time to take a picture before delivering the final blow!

Xion:Boom! Easy!

Riku:FINALLY!

Saix:You really should’ve gone first.

Xion:But it was thanks to you guys that I was able to watch and learn without stressing out. It was a group effort. I guess we’re done here. Thanks Riku, that was kinda fun. *stands up*

Riku:Ummm haven’t beaten master Xehanort either. Do you think maybe….

Xion:*Sits down* You owe one for this.

Riku:I know a good spot to find the best seashells.

Xion:Deal!

The crew let her get to work on the baldy while they occupied their time. Half an hour passed before they sat around a table eating. Riku looked over to see Xion learning how to deal with every move possible. It looked impossible. Most of the organization did. Another game over screen appeared and Riku sighed.

Axel:You alright champ?

Riku:It might be data, but seeing Sora lose is depressing. I hope he’s alright.

Roxas:Why wouldn’t he be?

Riku:He’s not the luckiest guy. Danger might as well be a spell when it comes to Sora. All of these data fights made me realize just how dangerous the organization really was. The thought of him running into something or someone as dangerous as that alone doesn’t sit well with me.

Everyone:......

Roxas:You know Riku, you can be pretty dumb sometimes.

Riku:Huh!?

Xion:Roxas!

Roxas:What!? All I’m saying is you would think after seeing a program based off of him successfully beat crazy strong people like Xion that you’d have the most faith in his skills. I mean who else do you know has enough different moves to handle so many kinds of fighters?

Riku:....Heh, thanks Roxas.

Roxas:*red* Yeah whatever. Just stating the obvious.

Axel:Yeah! Sora’s alright. I mean he was able to beat me after all.

Saix: If that’s the bar then maybe we should worry.

Axel:Hey!

Xion:I mean we did tie when I was tired.

Roxas:I beat you with amnesia.

Riku:Sora did too.

Axel:Who’s side are you on! This is the thanks I get for trying to cheer you up? Cut me some slack.

The friends shared a good laugh teasing Axel. Even he couldn’t help but join in on it. Riku should know better than anybody just how capable Sora is.

(Wherever you are, I’m sure you’re just fine.)

xxxx

Fine was the appropriate word to describe it. If a Riku or the others used anything more positive then they surely would’ve bit their tongue. If only they could see their friend right now, dodging and struggling on a rooftop under a starry sky dome. A swarm of gigas closed in on our young hero to overwhelm him, but to avail. Sora whipped out a storm flag and slammed it on the ground to summon the watery beast of the seven seas. It’s tentacles whacked away and crushed the gigas flat. Now wasn’t a time to rest though. Yozora, his opponent, wasn’t done yet. Sora saw rapid flashes of red lock in on him and switched to the counter shield.

He hyped himself “Come on!” Spurs shouted. The first attack came from the left, then right. Four more were dead on before another six ferocious slashes came from the left. Collision after collision conjured sparks that lit up the impacts of each attack. Yozora finally thought he had an opening to stab from behind but was sorely mistaken when Sora had already pivoted already and unleashed a barrage of fists that knocked Yazora in the air. Sora leaped up to follow up with a change into the second form. “Get back here!” He pulled his opponent back in with a magnet burst then went right into an ars arcanum. Blades clashed faster than anyone could keep up with before Sora’s ferocity gave him an edge that turned into full blown hits that ended with him spiking Yozora to the ground. As he fell, Sora was shot in the back by a laser that sent him to the metal floor behind. He had no time to dodge the cross slash that connected against his chest. He watched Yozora vanish and switched right into ultimate form to do the same.

This disappearing and reappearing act made their sparks seem more like fireworks. Crackles and pops

Danced up and down the battlefield as each person kept attempting to warp for both offense and defense until Yozora got the better of Sora by trapping in an exploding prism that launched Sora sky high. Yozora finally had room to breath and could plant fis feet long enough to charge his blade. He watched his target recover mid air and unless a salvo of fireballs with double arrow guns. A good idea if it wasn’t so far away that is. “Sorry but-huh!?” A blue light washed over Sora and propelled him directly at Yozora with his attack. Yozora was quick enough to slash Sora away but decided to pull back by backflipping the fireballs; a big mistake. He had underestimated Sora’s speed. Before he could even reach the ground, Sora was already in front of him again. This time with a massive rocket propelled hammer that hit him in the direction of the fireballs. The magic projectiles curved midair to hope in on his location and blasted him right in the chin. This was bad, really bad. To think he’d have this much trouble with someone who looked so clueless moments ago. He had to switch things up and vanished again.

Sora switched to nano arms and stood perfectly still. “Three….four….” he pulled a barrier right as a glimmer of red formed into Yazora that blasted some strange wide shots from his crossbow before vanishing again. Sora turned the machines into yo-yos next and swung straight. “There!” Yozora appeared right as expected and hit dead on. Sora pulled himself to wards and shifted to his frozen blades for additional slashes.

“You’re Just full of surprises aren’t you!?” Yozora grimaced.

“Don’t Give me that look! I didn’t want to fight!” Sora went for a kick but was too slow. Yozora managed to warp behind Sora and summoned a massive red orb that started pulling everything into it.

“Let’s see how you dodge this one.” Yozora turned up the pressure and started warping as fast as possible at Sora again and again, cutting and slashing him cleanly to knock him off balance until Yozora delivered one more powerful slash across his body that sent Sora flying into the orb. He quickly up to it and glided his blade along it to trigger a massive explosion that made Sora scream. Smoke and fire filled the air for a moment. That was a move not even Yozora himself was too good at avoiding. Nobody was gonna get it right from the jump.

Finally, the battle was over. It was longer than expected but the end result was the same. “Sorry, but I don’t lose-” Another shockwave from the explosion accorded suddenly and dispersed the smoke. That’s never happened before. Yozora shielded his eyes and scanned the ground, no Sora. Just black puddles. He dared not walk closer to them when they started to increase in size until a bigger one formed near his feet and Sora hopped out with glowing eyes and drenched in darkness. “This guy…” Yozora mistakenly readied a block for the keyblade as was then punched by Sora’s free hand, throwing him off and into a world of rageful attacks he had no choice but to receive. Sora was fast, too fast. The patterns seemed random. It was impossible to know what to look out for with the addition of kicks thrown in as Sora instinctively warp in numerous spots to bat Yazora around. Any attempt to escape the loop was met with a primal roar that kept the loop going until one final monstrous attack came. Sora went right through Yozora and into the ground. Strange black orbs rose up from bigger pools of black from earlier and detonated repeatedly, leaving Yozora no room to escape.

What was once a dark night turned into blinding light as Sora once again appeared above Yozora’s falling body in a new form; and with two blades. It was hard for him to understand what happened next. All he could see was light and feel the pain it inflicted everywhere as pillars of them struck down around Sora, who remained airborne and glowing. A look of pure grit on his face as he shouted.

“I guess...my power isn’t needed after all.”

xxxx

Xion:I beat him! But...I don’t think there’s anything here that might help. Sorry Riku. I know you wanna find him as soon as possible.

Riku:Hmmm, that’s alright. *smiles* Wherever he is...I’m sure he’s doing just fine.

[doomedandstoned]

Shepherds Crook Doom the Moonlit Sky in Latest LP

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album art based on a painting by Remedios Varo

I've been enamored SHEPHERDS CROOK from the moment I chanced upon 'Black Lake' (2018) some years gone, which inspired an impromptu review. Here is a band that should be, in my mind, every bit as familiar to aficionados of doom metal as Dopethrone, Bongzilla, and Cough. This opinion is founded on more than the strong emotional connection the music has made with me over the years. Every sludge lover I've had occasion to introduce the Trondheim duo to has taken to them immediately. Who can deny the appealing backwoods grit of "Uteseler" or the celebratory toke of "Smoke Diver"?

While their road game has yet to start, their track record in the studio is flawless with two stellar EPs and four highly regarded LPs notched around the belt already. The principal drivers of this project are multi-instrumentalist Ole Hell and vocalist Nestor. Together, they're a force to be reckoned with in the heavy underground, with Ole's penchant for composing dank rhythms and forlorn guitar leads that touch a nerve every time. Nestor completes the picture with characteristic gravelly crooning that carries more evil, hissing ire than a den of pissed off vipers.

Before us lay the latest long-player of the lot, 'Mat For Månen' (2021) -- or "Food For The Moon" -- which is such a brilliant title when you consider how suitable this music is for humid summer nights full of barbeque, beer, and self-loathing. If the dog's fabled bark at the moon could be rendered in relatable terms, it might end up sounding like Shepherds Crook.

"The Narrow" cracks the bottle on the recording with an irradiated strum. This becomes the song's central theme, with bass and drums joining in, followed by Nestor's gruff, caustic strains. This dirge of doom is unrelenting, with the riff simultaneously establishing the melodic core and rhythm. It's a tight track with no room for fat, not even for one of Ole Hell's trademark guitar solos -- though the woeful axeman does drop an ominous footnote during the song's closing seconds.

The titular "Mat For Månen" is next in queue and dons quite a downcast mood, with guest artist Stian Sumstad's basswork carrying the song to several emphatic moments that border on epic. The guitar has an opportunity to really shine on this one, with a melodic lead midway through that seems to be telling us secrets buried in the woods 'neath these mysterious moonlit skies.

Photograph by Magnus Olsen

Though I'm far from an angry drunk, "Barfight" has me feeling the rage that comes along with imbibing a bit too much and making enemies at the table before the night's all said and done. The song sets off a nasty blues vibe that makes me feel braver than I really am, inspiring a swing at my enemies -- real or (in this state likely) imagined.

Our four-song excursion grinds to a finish with "Ingen Morgenkvist" which does sad as only Shepherds Crook can. Though I'm uncertain of the precise meaning ("morgenkvist" has no English equivalent), my best detective work has me believing the song title could be approximated "No Morning Seen." This number has a certain weight to it -- and not merely because of its 16-minute runtime. Despite the familiar joshing about how long doom bands are prone to playing ("I just got here, what did I miss?" "Nothing yet, they're still on their first song!"), it takes strong songwriting and a steady hand of musicianship to pull off low and slow in a way that works convincingly for the listener. Here, the song has a balladic feel (it's based on a poem by poem by Jørgen Nygard) that builds gradually, layer upon layer, with Mr. Hell's guitar doing the kind of singing that defies words, yet somehow succeeds in rendering meaning.

Overall, Mat For Månen is a welcome addition to the Shepherds Crook oeuvre. It succeeds in delivering the unique sound of the band with a depth that gives it staying power. Perhaps it will find a welcome home in your playlist, to. Releasing July 2nd (at which point it will be available for purchase here), the record is presented in its world premiere courtesy of Doomed & Stoned.

Give ear...

LISTEN: · Shepherds Crook - Mat For Månen (2021)

Shepherds Crook: The Rundown

Interview with guitarist Ole Hell Photographs by Magnus Olsen

How did Shepherds Crook get its start?

It started out as some kind of experiment back in 2017 when I (Ole) rented this little studio room in a larger studio space of a friend of mine.

The first track we did was "Outlaw Speedking", based on a riff I made on the spot when I found my acoustic guitar after many many years of not playing. I got myself some new gear and just started to record.Nestor heard it and got hyped, wrote some lyrics and recorded the vocals in one take, first try. We knew that we had to do more songs and about a month later we released Black Lake. We did five releases from 2017 to 2019. I do everything from recording to mixing and mastering, so it's been a learning process for me as far as making heavy music sound good, with every release I think it sounds a little bit better.

Where did the name Shepherds Crook come from?

Actually I thought it was a fascination for walking sticks from hiking in the woods or whatever, but Nestor reminded me the other day that the name came from a dream I had years ago where I was going to make a band called Shepherds Crook. I can't really confirm that as I don't remember. Blame the beers.

How would you describe your "sound" to someone who hasn't yet listened to your records?

We're all over the place as far as I'm concerned. We started out with more of a stoner vibe and kind of mixed in elements of doom and sludge. The vocals might be weird for a lot of stoner rock fans, and the riffs might be too boring for everyone that is into "metal" but likes the vocals. This is our impression from people anyways. But back to the sound; it's heavy riffs, moody melodies and mean vocals. I think we kind of got our own thing going at this point, we care less and less about these "doom" and "stoner" labels these days to be honest.

Walk us through each track on 'Mat For Månen' and tell us about what the songs mean and/or how they originated.

We do like the idea that the listener can interpret and make up his own mind what the tracks mean. But, basically the general idea for the album is the moon and how it connects to organic life on earth. Mat For Månen is norwegian for "Food for the moon" and is based on the same concept laid out by the mystic G. I. Gurdjieff (and to some extent Ouspensky and others), I won't lay the whole thing out here, but if anybody is interested they could check that out.

The tracks touch on this topic in various ways like lunacy, the saturn connection, no dawn, wizards and shit, lol. The songs are also pretty varied on this one, from that stoner doom thing to a more heavy blues vibe, doom and stoner metal.

As a side note, we recorded the album at a place called "Månen" (the moon), the place of a buddy of ours. Cool thing is he joined on vocals for two of the tracks and It sounds awesome. He might be joining us on bass and co-vocals whenever we get our asses on stage.

Speaking of stagework, has Shepherds Crook had a chance to get out and tour much?

I mean, not really. In the beginning it was just me playing all the instruments as a studio project. Then after a while we had a couple of drummers come in and a bass player. We started rehearsing to play live then some of us couldn't make it due to different reasons, etc. We still have plans to make it happen at some point in the near future.

Give us an overview of your discography so far.

Black Lake (2018) Uteseiler (2018) Evil Magician (2018) Carved In Smoke (2019) Dauseiler (2019) Mat For Månen (2021)

Black Lake by Shepherds Crook

Uteseiler by Shepherds Crook

Evil Magician by Shepherds Crook

Carved In Smoke by Shepherds Crook

Dauseiler by Shepherds Crook

Are there any records or songs that you are especially proud of?

I know we're both pretty happy with Uteseiler as a whole and the last track of Dauseiler: "Serpent Ropes". Also, Mat For Månen is pretty decent I would say.

What does the future hold for Shepherds Crook?

I'm in the process of writing riffs for another album, but have no idea when it will be finished. It could take a while. We have other projects going as well.

Nestor (the singer) is now in this black metal band and I'm doing my other thing Vandrer (instrumental doom), you can check it out on vandrer.bandcamp.com.

We also got a new drummer: Trollhammer aka Jan Olav, an old childhood buddy. We were in a death metal band together in the early-mid 90's and he's been in many death metal bands since then.

He will be doing the drums on both Shepherds Crook and Vandrer from now on, bringing that extra punch to the face (and groin area).

What is your philosophy of life? How do you see the world, your place in it, etc.?

Well, we got all kinds of crazy renegade ideas. While we wait for that book, just insert any Lemmy quote of choice!

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[cursewoodrecap]

Session 13: Trouble on Your Mind

We deal with good memories and bad plants. Also, we meet another all-star NPC. For this session we drew the Woods, the Madness, the Triumph, and the Curse.

Sergeant Clem Haxan stares out into the frozen wood, atop the barricades and trenches stretching out across the carefully built killing field, scanning the treeline for any sign of partisans. 

It’s night; that’s not surprising, given how short the days are in winter this far north. The wind, at least, is down to a mere roar. It’s yet another day in the village of Podtybok. The partisans had fortified it somewhat before the Czar’s forces took it; it was a supply depot, and they were counting on it to get them through the winter. Now the troops stationed here are counting on those same supplies while they’re snowed in, cut off from the rest of the Czar’s army. The partisans tried to burn some supplies before they were driven out, so there’s only the barest rations to go around, and Clem is hungry tonight.

She hears someone approach her from behind. She turns around. It’s Privates Sokolov and Vodyanakov. “Sarge!” exclaims Vodyanakov, excited.

“Privates,” she greets them.

Vodyanakov is huddling in his bulky coat, his red gloves reinforced with thick strips of wool, wrapped around like bandages. But he still seems cheerful. “You’ll never guess what happened!”

“Tell me and be quick about it,” Clem grumbles.

“A herd of deer wandered into the killing field near Grigori’s position!”

“And?”

“He got 3 of them before they managed to split!”

“Oh, fantastic news!” Clem finally grins. “Do you need help dragging them back?”

“Naw, Rusalka led a squad out. They’ve already skinned ‘em for stew.”

“Aw hell yeah, good work!”

“Yeah, we figured we’d tell you. C’mon, everyone’s meeting in the barracks.”

Clem happily goes with her current comrades. As they wander through the frozen town of Podtybok, she can see the Red Hand and the town’s remaining citizens going about business as usual. It’s night, it’s cold, but there’s a real sense of community here.

Clem considers for a moment, and asks the DM: “How long have I been here, roughly?”

She is allowed to roll a wisdom check to time it out. She’s not sure how long she’s been here. It’s pretty deep in winter, though, and they didn’t get rescued until spring.

Wait, that doesn’t make sense. It’s still winter here. Clem knows it’s probable that the elite forces won’t show up until spring, but how would she remember when-

The DM tells her to roll a d4, and doesn’t explain why.

Sokolov took over her watch point for her. Winter seems to have gone on forever, is how long she’s been here. And she’s clearly been on watch for a while? Her feet are tired, but it occurs to her that she doesn’t feel all that cold? Odd, in a winter like this.

Vodyanakov is leading her toward the barracks, and Clem is hungry for deer stew.

Who’s next?

Gral is leaning against a tree, opening his eyes when he hears a young voice calling out. “Joybringer, where are you?”

“I’m up here!”

Gral opens his eyes and he is standing on a cliff overlooking his clan’s territory. Below, he can see the river Duu stretching out, carving its way through the mountains. The fields are blooming, the towns on the mountain slopes above are bustling, and the river is beautiful & green in this light. He turns and the voice is a local child Gral knows, Chak Greka’duu.

“Joybringer!”

“Ah, young Chak!  What brings you here?”

The young orc pouts at him. “Did you take a nap again? We can’t get started without our bard!”

“Huh? What time is it?”

“Late! C’mon!”

Chak leads Gral down the ladder from his small watchpost, then across a rope bridge, making their way through the mountain city hanging onto the steep edge of the cliff.

As they head toward the communal Song Hall, Gral can see many other orcs of the tribe heading the same direction.

Who’s next?

“Shoshana, are you in there?” calls her father’s familiar voice. She’s sitting in her room in her father’s house. On the table, her herbalism kit is spread out, for sorting and unpacking from a trip to woods.

“Yes, Aba?” she calls back.

“Are you ready in there?

“Y-yes, of course,” she says, hurriedly brushing herb clippings off her skirt. She pulls open the door.

Her father is there, mildly dressed up. “Well? Get ready. We should have been at the Spear three minutes ago!”

As she dusts off, fixes her hair quickly, and puts her shoes back on, her dad smiles at her. “It’s okay. I was late too.”

As they’re leaving, her father pulls a dish off the stove. “It’s not much, but I figure the least I could do is make some potatoes. It’s nothing compared to Hershel’s cooking, of course.” He shrugs ruefully.

“I was going to bring a gift, too, but...the pickings have been slimmer lately.” Shoshana gestures ruefully to her slim haul from the day’s harvest.

“Just bring yourself! You know you’re always welcome there. Come on!”

He leads Shoshana out into the cheerful village of Ovruch. It’s a pleasant afternoon, edging into early evening, and there’s the gentle, sleepy hum of the day’s work winding down all across the town. They make their way toward the familiar Silver Spear Inn.

Walking inside, Shoshana can see the old inn, just the same as it’s always been for most of her life, well-kept and cozy. It seems like a happy occasion; in the big dining room, a few tables have been pulled together, giving the place the feel of a rustic banquet hall. The innkeeper, Herschel, and his family all turn to greet the guests. “Yakov, Shoshale!” he calls, poking his head out of the kitchen. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

The oldest son, Lev, is there, moving chairs into place. The innkeeper’s wife Mindel and the young twins, Asher and Bluma, are scurrying around setting the table with plates and cups. 

Shoshana, by reflex, immediately looks for one specific other person. She rolls excellent Perception. The DM has her roll a d6 and doesn’t tell her why, but her eyes immediately latch onto the teenager in question, coming down the stairs.

Something’s weird about her - no, wait - no, there’s Rifka, the same constant she’s always been for nearly all of Shoshana’s life. She skips lightly down the stairs and pulls a seat out at the table, beckoning Shosha over. 

Who’s next?

The familiar weight of Valeria’s sword moves with a practiced ease. She swings and breaks neatly through roughly-carved wood, and the training dummy falls to the ground in pieces as she practices in the familiar training yard of the Citadel of the Rose. Feeling amped with adrenaline, she whirls through her daily training, but pauses when she hears heavy footsteps from behind, laden with the clank of full plate armor.

She looks back and there, resplendent in gleaming armor, is Kyr Marius. He’s a silver dragonborn like her and a respected senior member of the Order. He’s been a mentor to her for a long time - not assigned by protocol, but as another silver dragonborn, he took an interest in making sure she was fitting in. It’s a surprise to see him right now - he’s not one of her teachers, and he looks dressed for a formal event, wearing his heavy ceremonial cape, rich purple and pinned with a brooch bearing the Order’s crest.

Valeria sheathes her sword, trying to gauge whether Kyr Marius is impressed by her combat skills. She rolls well at Perception, and the DM asks her to roll a d4. Meanwhile, it certainly seems like he’s impressed!

“Your diligence is commendable, Kyr Valeria,” he greets her warmly, “But you’re going to be late! Your trials have been passed; this is a time for celebration, not more toil. Come! The entire Order must be together for this. Goodness, you’re not even dressed properly yet.”

He approaches and pins his ceremonial cloak onto her with the Rose brooch. Valeria blanks for a moment - has she ever worn a cloak like this before? She rolls badly, and - no, clearly not. Just a vague sense of deja vu.

To wear Kyr Marius’ own cloak? She - well, reptiles don’t blush, but she’s certainly feeling the equivalent of it at this great honor, and tries to stand a little taller. 

“Come down to the banquet hall!” he beckons. “Tomorrow we set out, but tonight we celebrate!” He leads her down the carved marble stairs and through the blooming gardens of the Citadel of the Rose. The trellised archways and stone pillars are ornately decorated with statues and symbols of Rack, and the many rose bushes are in lush bloom. (Honestly, it’s kind of excessive - which, to a dragonborn sense of aesthetics, is perfect.)

Where were we?

The players are muttering amongst themselves with theories and questions, but Clem isn’t paying attention to those nerds. She has stew to get to, and she’s powerwalking toward the barracks in the barricaded northern town of Podtybok. (”Partybrook?” “....yeah, sure, Partybrook.”)

She hurries past the small civilian houses and the inn as she marches straight toward the mess hall that was set up in an old building. It was originally one of the winter storehouses. When the Czar’s forces took the town, the partisans took what they could and tried to burn the rest of the supplies, but the snows were already falling, and the buildings held up well. The largest of them now forms a mess hall and a sort of central meeting place. She can already see a line of hungry soldiers queueing at a huge cauldron of stew and finding their places at a huge pushed-together table.

Clem ladles herself two hearty bowls and looks for the captain. She rolls well on Perception, and again the DM asks her to roll a d4 without explaining why. Looking around only takes a moment; the captain is at the head of the table, exactly where Clem would expect, laughing at a fellow soldier’s story. Clem immediately goes to her, sitting in the open spot next to her and listening to Rusalka describe himself and Sokolov retrieving the deer from the killing field.

“-and the kid almost jumped out of his skin! Oh, hey, doc! Sit down, have a bowl!” 

Clem offers her second bowl to the captain. “I have plenty,” the captain says, gesturing to her own stew. “You eat, you must be hungry.” 

Clem’s like aw hell yeah, two bowls. “Thanks, Captain Anya. Hey, is Khoslev still drinking in the inn?”

“Of course he is,” laughs the captain. “Where else would he be? He’s not welcome here and he knows it.”

Clem laughs along. “Any movement beyond the line?”

“No, all quiet for now. We can relax for a while.”

Clem happily chows down on stew without a care in the world.

Where were we?

Orcs are streaming in towards the song-hall. The sound of laughter and conversation drifts out, and Gral happily makes his way inside. As he enters, he sees the familiar, unmistakably marked face of Vek “Thrice-Burned” Garna’duu. The massive fire-scarred warrior is lounging at the end of one of the huge tables laughing about something. He catches sight of Gral and waves. “Joybringer!”

“Thrice-Burned! Hello! What were y’all talking about? I seem to have missed a joke.”

“Tarok here is telling me a funny story. Come, sit, we’ll need your talents later.”

“Don’t mind if I do!” Gral chirps, settling himself in at the table.

There’s a huge buffet lined up on one side of the hall, a table overflowing with grilled fish and fragrantly spiced vegetables.

“Yes, the harvest has been very good this year!” Thrice-Burned comments, seeing Gral’s gaze. “You’ve got to try some, the cooks outdid themselves.”

Gral ignores the food for now. “Don’t stop on my account, I want to hear this story!”

“No, no, please eat, you look famished!”

“I guess I can’t refuse such hospitality!” the bard allows, hopping back up to take a look at the buffet.

He, too, rolls a rather excellent Perception to examine the spread. Roll a d6, the DM tells him, and again gives no explanation. The food looks delicious; it’s all of his favorites and plenty of exciting things besides. Roast rabbit, fish, potatoes, grilled vegetables, a sauteed mushroom medley. With a roll that good, he sees there’s...actually kind of a lot of mushrooms? Huh.

Gral’s getting a weird feeling, but can’t quite place it. He helps himself to a plate of fish, avoiding the mushrooms, and brings it back to the table. He’ll take a little nibble, but he’s not chowing down yet, more interested in Tarok’s story.

Where were we?

Shoshana makes sure to ask Mindel, the mom, if there’s anything she can do to help set up. “No, dear, you’re a guest! Sit!” Mindel says, playfully swatting Shoshana’s hands away from the pile of plates to set out.

What kind of occasion is this, anyway? With a mediocre Int check, Shosha’s not sure what occasion exactly. Just a dinner party, maybe?

She takes her seat next to Rifka’s, like always, and pulls the chair out for her. The other girl sits and passes her a bowl. “Did your dad make potatoes again?”

Shosha groans. “Ugh, yes. I keep telling him he doesn’t have to, but he keeps not getting the hint.”

“It’s okay, my dad made gravy, we’ll survive.”

Asher and Bluma, the little kids, are being adorable, so Shoshana turns to greet them too. “Well hello, you two. What’s this I hear about sticky fingers over at the baker’s?” The twins immediately point to each other, denying all culpability.

“Well clearly neither of you two have been up to any mischief lately. I hope you’re helping your mom out with cleaning up?”

“Mmm-hmm!” The little girl nods emphatically. “Everybody helps!”

The oldest brother has sat down, so Shosha turns to him with a sly smirk. “Heyyyy Lev. So how’d it go with her?”

“D-don’t worry about it,” says Lev quickly, taking a spoonful of mushroom stew.

“Oh, huh, is this a new recipe?” Shosha asks, momentarily distracted.

“No, dad makes this all the time?”

Anyway, there’s more important topics to get back to. “Did he choke trying to ask her out?” she asks her friend, whose brother is turning red.

“It was hilarious. So he waited at the well for her-”

“Okay, cliché but doable-”

“But here’s the thing, she was actually in a huge hurry, and when he keeps getting in her way-”

“Ugh, the poor schlemiel-”

“And the next thing you know the Rav happens to walk by-”

They proceed to make fun of Lev and share all the small-town gossip. Mindel is ladling more onto everyone’s plates. “Please, eat! I made too much anyway, don’t let it go to waste-”

Shoshana’s player is a suspicious bastard, so before partaking in mushroom stew she’s going to engage Mindel in fifty layers of small-town small talk first. And for that, she’s to make a Charisma save. 26! Hey, roll another d4.

Where were we?

Valeria steps into the grand dining hall. The Knights of the Rose are lined up at long tables, all clad in gleaming armor, wearing their formal cloaks, and they all turn to look at Valeria as she enters. Kyr Marius directs her to a table full of paladins she recognizes. Kyr Boucher, a halfling man, and Kyr Saroyan, native to the Ventallan countryside where the Citadel of the Rose is located.

Kyr Saroyan reaches out to shake Valeria’s hand as she takes her seat. “Congratulations!”

“I can’t believe it’s finally come,” Valeria admits.

“You’re one of us now! Sit. Enjoy the feast, we’ve got a lot of work tomorrow.”

A rich banquet of food is served. At the end of the table somebody laughs. The hall is full of the clink of gauntleted hands clutching goblets.

Marius stands up, gesturing that he would like to make a toast! Valeria is told to make an Int or Wis check, and immediately fails it badly. Everything Is Perfectly Fine.

“Tonight we welcome the newest knights into the noble Order of the Rose!” Kyr Marius declares, his clear, booming voice ringing through the hall. He begins to name each of the newest knights of the order, applause and cheers from the gathered crowd following every one.

Finally, he calls with great aplomb, “Kyr! Valeria! Argent!” The hall roars with applause. “A toast to you and to all our new knights! Congratulations on joining our glorious community! Please, let the feast begin!”

A hearty haunch with a mushroom glaze over a bed of lettuce is placed in front of Valeria. She settles in to enjoy the feast and the company of her fellow knights.

Where were we?

Clem’s sitting with Rusalka and the Captain, well into her second bowl of deer stew. Someone’s scrounged up some mushrooms and edible lichens to throw in there, plus other vegetables from the winter stores, and it makes the food richer. The friendly banter among her most trusted comrades is like being enveloped in a warm hug. Everyone’s almost glowing with warmth and camaraderie.

Clem’s proficient in cooking; she focuses for a moment on the flavors of the food. She makes another perception check.

The stew is… She takes another bite. The stew tastes delicious, except - wait. Those spices aren’t the ones they would have here in Podtybok – these are drow spices, they didn’t have anything like that here –

When she thinks about that, everything flickers for a moment.

The stew tastes mushy - warm and filling, but kind of flavorless? It doesn’t taste like deer stew at all. 

Hey, Clem, make a charisma save. She looks up around the old barn, moss and lichen hanging from the ceiling, strange unknown figures around her – no, everything is fine, she’s still at the mess hall with her friends. The DM has her roll another d4.

Where were we?

Gral is just getting finished telling an excellent joke. Everybody is laughing.

“…and then they found him, feet dangling up from the river, and Krotok says, ‘now that’s a weaver for you!’” (Sadly, the pun only works in Orcish.)

Thrice-burned is there, along with Tarok Shala’duu, one of the best chefs Gral knows, and young Chak. And they are just losing it over that joke. “A WEAVER,” Tarok chokes out through his guffaws. “I’m surprised you didn’t say BOAT HAT!” (Again, we assume it makes sense in Orcish.)

“Tarok! There are children here, this is a G-rated joke,” Gral admonishes playfully.

Hey Gral? Make an insight check. Yeah, no, the joke was pretty good, but it wasn’t THAT funny, for as long as they’ve been laughing. We’ve heard of a captive audience, but…it’s weird, somehow.

Their laughter does finally slow down, but they’re all weirdly in sync about it. Every orc at the table has the same cadence to how they stop laughing.

“Oh, Gral, you have to try the shellfish. Chak, get Gral some shellfish,” Tarok insists.

Gral remembers some business. “Thrice-Burned. Last we spoke, you were checking on the mountain tribes, about some land dispute. How’d that go?”

“Oh, very well, of course. Some of them agreed to come and join us! Others, well…they are not welcome here.”

Gral has a moment of strange vertigo when he tries to think about the tribal dispute, and tries to place what day it is, what year. And the harder he tries, the more he realizes something is wrong. He rolls a Charisma save, and begins to remember more.

This orc here answered to Thrice-Burned, but...he was only Twice-Burned at this point, wasn’t he? Yes, Gral sang this orc’s death song, he’s sung the story of each of Vek Garna’duu’s names - he became Thrice-Burned during the Ascension War, when Raspult lit up the mountains and rivers. Raspult is a name Gral can’t possibly know; there hasn’t been such a thing as the Ascension War yet. But that’s definitely Thrice-Burned sitting there, with the scars from wounds that couldn’t have happened yet.

Gral thinks it’s time to stir up a little conflict.

“These shellfish are amazing. Hey, uh, I’ll be back in a few – I realized I left something – Chak, on that mountain where I was, um, meditating, I left an important scroll that might blow away. It’s pretty valuable, so I just need to run out and-”

Chak interrupts. “No! I’ll get it. We can’t have a feast without our bard!”

“I won’t be more than ten minutes-”

“No, your part is next!”

“My part?”

“Yes! For the new ones-” Thrice-Burned gestures to a group of orcs Gral’s never met. “From the mountain tribes. We need to welcome them into the community properly!”

Gral reflexively insight-checks, and gets to roll another d6. This isn’t a thing. Like, there’s no such thing as a ‘welcome to the town’ ceremony. Orcs don’t switch tribes. This is all wrong.

“Ah, yes, I know exactly what you’re talking about and, what a coincidence! My scroll is for the welcome ritual!” Gral spitballs.

“Okay, you stay there and I’LL go get it,” Thrice-Burned insists.

“No, really, it’ll take so much longer-” Gral gets up to start walking, and a massive burn-scarred hand shoves him back into his chair. “I’ll go,” Thrice-Burned says, his tone brooking no argument. He turns and leaves the hall.

Where were we?

Valeria makes another perception check, and rolls her d6. She does well enough on her roll to notice Kyr Marius slipping out of the hall. Valeria breaks away from the conversation, rising from her seat, intent on following him.

“Whoa, where are you going?” asks Kyr Boucher. “The meal is not done!”

“I still have his cloak-”

“I’m sure he just has to run and get something,” Kyr Saroyan says soothingly. “Probably his spare cloak. He forgot his tonight. That’s so unlike him!”

“Really, I’d better go return it-”

“No, please, we insist. You have a big day tomorrow! It’s your first ride with the knights as a fully fledged Knight of the Rose. You need to eat well. Ser Marius can take care of himself.”

All the players notice the “Ser.” Does Valeria? She’s asked to make one more Charisma save, and makes it quite well. The DM does a little math, and nods.

Valeria stands up to follow Kyr Marius, and her eyes open. She looks, really seeing for the first time today, and sees the strange, swollen, overgrown faces of the unfamiliar human and halfling sitting next to her. The table is no longer the glorious mahogany of the Order of the Rose dining hall; now it’s a plain wooden table, half-rotted. The meal before her is no longer a delicious roast haunch, but a lumpy fungal growth. Retching, she spits out anything left of it in her mouth.

Valeria feels a tug on her arm and looks down. Vines and creepers have twined around it, a thin coating of lichen beginning to spread under them. The two strangers’ bodies are overgrown as well, though if they’re still alive they make no move to shake them off. The halfling’s mouth soundlessly moves, as if it’s talking, the way Kyr Boucher was just a moment before. He turns his head in the other direction to look at - oh, that’s Gral, further down the table, wrapped in vines. Clem and Shoshana are similarly bound. All three seem dazed and sluggish, their eyes closed.

She hears the door to the barn close as heavy footsteps recede into the distance.

This can’t go on. Valeria strains against the vines, and her hard-won warrior’s strength serves her well. The vines holding her tear apart as she stands. 

Where were we?

Shoshana has finally lost the battle of small talk. Never go in against a Jewish mom when there’s food on the line; she’s been served a hearty portion of soup and bread and informed she’s too skinny, eat! And the innkeeper does bake an excellent sourdough.

Valeria, meanwhile, sees Shoshana about to take a bite out of what might once have been bread, but is now overgrown with mold and lichen.

Valeria knocks it out of her hand.

Nonsensically, the sheriff of Ovruch is there in the inn, and he’s just slapped the bread out of - Shoshana makes a perception check - her clawed, shadow-stained hand. In shock and confusion, she looks back at Rifka - and makes a Charisma save.

The girl next to her is someone she’s never seen before, and looks gruesome. The head and body are weirdly misshapen, and there’s a flower growing out of her eye socket. Scabby lichen creeps across her face, and bulging mushrooms protrude out the far side of her head. Behind her, a moldy chunk of once-bread skitters across the table.

She blinks, and the disconcerting vision is replaced with her best friend’s face. “You okay?” Rifka asks, concerned. “You nearly fainted!” She lowers her voice to a stage whisper. “Did you eat your dad’s potatoes?”

Shoshana barely hears, because she’s looking at her hands. They’re pink and fleshy and knobbly like they’ve been all her life. They’re long-clawed and soot-dark. Claws to hands, hands to claws. She blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of it. Her hands look normal and human. After all, if they weren’t, it wouldn’t be possible for her friend to be sitting here with her.

Rifka is looking at her with guileless concern. How to do this without looking crazy?

“Um, can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Do my hands…feel cold to you?” Shoshana asks, warily, looking to see if her friend has any reaction to touching shadowy talons.

Rifka puts her hand over Shoshana’s, softly, and smiles warmly. “They feel wonderful.”

Where were we?

Clem blinks. For a moment she’d seen some other place, weird and different, and didn’t recognize anyone - and then it went back to normal. Before she can say anything to her friends, one of villagers steps forward and slaps food out of Grigori’s hand.

Clem scoots her chair back, looking around, still weirded out and unnerved. She fails a Charisma save and rolls Perception. It’s sort of weird that this wood elf villager is so big. Like, Clem-size big. And- is he wearing armor? 

Rusalka turns to her, gesturing to the villager, and says, “Well, Sarge? Are you just going to let him do that to one of us?”

“W-what are you talking about?” Clem demands. “Who is this?”

“One of the partisans, probably!” the captain exclaims. “Quickly, help us!” The Red Hand gathered around the table begin to stand.

Clem also stands. “Wait, this isn’t like us.” Private Vodanyakov is next to her, drawing his sword, but - she can remember how he died. He got eaten by winter wolves, but he’s right there. That hasn’t even happened yet. It hadn’t happened until years after they got out of Podtybok, but-

“Sergeant Haxan,” the captain orders evenly. “Draw your blade. Attack that enemy. They are not one of us.”

Clem tries to meet her eyes. “You haven’t called me Sergeant Haxan in ages. You always called me Clem.”

“Clem,” Captain Anya says, tone not changing. “That one is not one of us. You are.”

Clem grits her teeth, not drawing her sword. “Who the FUCK are you?”

Her Charisma save fails; she’s still there in the snowy village.

Where were we? 

One of the unfamiliar mountain tribe orcs has stood up and slapped something out of another orc’s hand. Gral is confused, but he’s always been a peacemaker. He’s gonna try to head over and talk to them.

Where were we? Oh yes, the overgrown barn.

The mushroom-encrusted bodies are standing up, threateningly turning their sightless eyes to stare at Valeria.

Gral and Shosha remain seated, their eyes closed, covered in mounds of creeping green matter. Clem, though, has stood up, and is looking in Valeria’s direction. The biggest mushroom person is standing next to her, pointing. She turns on her Divine Sense, but it’s a bust - these creatures maybe have a spark of fey or fiend to them, but it’s not enough to turn them.

They’re occasionally making strange noises, but not really vocalizing. Valeria casts Detect Magic to try to figure out what’s going on here. The entire barn lights up as magic, though not as clean-cut and tidy as humanoid magic. One of the smaller mushroom people sees her casting a spell and takes this as cue for it to attack. It swings a wild punch at her, and on impact, noxious spores puff out of its fist.

Where were we?

A fight has broken out between the mountain orcs and the clan Duu orcs. None of this makes sense, and Gral is pretty sure it isn’t real. He makes his Charisma save with flying bardic colors, and his eyes snap open. He’s in a rotted-out barn. There are weird gross mushroom people, and one of them is punching Valeria.

Whoa. Guess that explains it. He defensively casts Mirror Image, planning his next move.

Where were- oh, it’s all blending together.

Lev, across the table from Shoshana, is strumming a lute, and also there’s now four of him. Shosha doesn’t feel well. Something’s wrong.

“Something’s gone wrong with Sheriff Haskel, Shoshana!” he cries. “You are one of us, right?”

Shoshana suddenly remembers that no. For the last eight months, no, she hasn’t been one of them. Not after what happened. Not after they abandoned her for a witch.

She rolls her Charisma save, and her eyes snap open in a musty rotting barn.

Where are we?

There’s a fight breaking out between the Red Hand and the villagers, and Clem’s been ordered to assist her unit. Clem’s still dazed, conflicting memories jarring horribly with the present. A ton of these people next to her are long dead? She looks to her captain, baffled.

Captain Anya’s given Clem her orders, and is now rushing into the fight, not drawing her weapon but clearly ready for combat. Clem rolls her Charisma save - and it’s a natural one.

She draws her greatsword. These traitors are attacking her family.

Shoshana, meanwhile, wakes up restrained under a blanket of greenish-brown growth. In a knee-jerk panic reaction upon waking up, she casts Burning Hands on the crowd of mushroom creatures.

Clem, one of the partisans just threw a bomb or something!

The gout of flame hits most of the mushroom people, though it also scorches Gral. The biggest of the fungal zombies takes the brunt of the blast.

Clem, the Captain got hit by that bomb!

How dare this partisan bastard touch her Captain. Clem shouts “Anya!”, draws her greatsword, and turns on the wood elven woman who threw the Molotov with murder in her eyes.

Shoshana, still hampered by the carpet of mushrooms, barely manages to dodge Clem’s swinging blade, and as she struggles to get free she makes an easy target for the next slash. 

Gral sees Clem bury her sword in Shoshana’s side. The drow’s eyes are still closed, and her snarling face has a thin film of lichen over it. He’s immediately distracted, though, by the large mushroom leader clocking him in the face. Shit. He’s gotta get out of here - he’s just been hit hard, and also set on fire. The big shroom guy manages to pop one of his Mirror Image duplicates as he runs.

Clem, the captain just dropped one of the partisans, but apparently he had three identical brothers!

By taking the attack of opportunity, though, Gral manages to make it to Clem’s side, and casts Dispel Magic on her.

Clem’s eyes snap open to see Shoshana bleeding on the other end of her blade.

The big drow’s voice comes out tiny, fearful and bewildered. “…Shoshana?”

Shoshana squeaks, “Oh god your sword is so big.” 

The mushroom corpses, realizing we’re all out of the illusion, rush in. They’re clumsy, shambling things - the six smaller ones, likely unlucky travelers who wandered in here the way we did, miss most of their swings at us. But Valeria, who’s been fending them off the longest, is starting to feel the damage. Shoshana turns and sprays another cone of fire at the rotting things.

Clem pulls her sword free and begins babbling apologies. “OHMYGODSHOSHANA, IAMSOSORRY, IDIDNTMEANTOAREYOUOKAY”

Shoshana grits her teeth. She’s been stabbed before, it’s fine. “MUSHROOMS NOW, APOLOGIES LATER.”

“Right!”

Clem and Valeria slash at the fungus monsters. Spores spurt from the back of their huge leader, but Clem manages to save against the toxin.

Gral Phantasmal Forces the big shroomer, who fails hard. The thing has advantage, though – it succeeds as one of other mushroom people gestures. The DM lets on that they are, in fact, a hive mind. If Gral had managed to succeed, the Phantasmal Force would have gotten ALL of them.

Valeria opens her jaws and lets loose a blast of ice. Three of the Overgrown crumble as the fungal growth on them withers and dies of the cold.

The rest of the Overgrown swarm to attack her, but their uncomfortably squishy punches squelch against her armor. Shoshana shreds one with her claws.

Clem faces off against their huge leader, furious. This thing impersonated her commander, made her attack her friends, and made her eat super gross mushrooms. Her attack is ferocious, but the monster retaliates with a crushing blow. As it hits, spores puff out of the fist - underneath is clearly hard wood or bone, but the surrounding fist is one of those bulbous shrooms that explodes into spores when touched. Super gross.

Gral tries to cast Dissonant Whispers on the big guy. The hive mind protects it again, and the damage is evenly distributed between the linked members, so they all take like 2 damage. He grumbles.

Valeria puts her smites to use as Shoshana and Clem both get punched. Shoshana turns on the one that hit her, her claws tearing through flesh both human and fungal. “Gross, that’s under my nails now, I hate it.”

With a mighty swing Clem cleaves the massive, swollen, overgrown body of the leader in half. As it falls down leaking spores, we can see the remains of what might once have been the farmer that owned this barn. ICKY.

Gral decides that spells weren’t working great, so he just slices the last one apart with his sickle. 

A weird stillness falls over the dark, dank barn.

Shoshana is the first to speak. “Let me be the first to say: what. the. FUohhhhmygawd there’s still fungus on me.” She scrubs frantically at her arms and clothes, trying to brush away the clinging lichen and spores.

We all make Intelligence checks to try to remember what the hell happened.

Clem remembers: we had just found the Purple Cave Creeper at the mouth of a cellar to a house in an overgrown village, when suddenly the floorboards above our head shook and we ran outside to avoid the cave-in. These mushroom people were there, converging in on us. We prepared for battle, ready to charge in, but the choking cloud of spores overtook us all. Valeria managed to get an attack in before she succumbed - though in her head she believed it to be the training dummy.

Clem and Valeria, who ate the fungal food without reservation, both picked up 4 taint. Gral and Shoshana, who resisted eating, only picked up 1, because the DM rolled garbage.

What was with all those extra dice we rolled? Turns out the illusion had HP, and we were rolling damage against it with our d4s and d6s as it exerted itself to keep us under. The charisma save to break out was double its HP, so it became easier to break out the more we wore it down.

We emerge from the gross barn into the late afternoon light amidst and overgrown patch of houses. The woods outside seem very thick.

Clem has resumed apologizing frantically to Shoshana, who is awkwardly accepting. Aethis is out here, looking very put out about being restrained by a thick mass of vines. As Valeria goes to draw her sword to cut the gator free, she has to push aside her cloak to do it.

She wasn’t wearing a cloak when we went into the house, so this is a bit distracting. It’s very familiar. Sturdy, finely woven, and purple, lightly enchanted to resist tearing and weathering. She has a very similar one at home for ceremonial purposes, except hers isn’t enchanted. This one is spotless even after a bloody fight in the muck; only senior officers of the Order of the Rose are given the enchanted ones that can be worn into the field. And this one is specifically sized for dragonborn proportions.

Somehow, she came out of the dream still wearing Kyr Marius’ cloak.

The group discusses, haltingly, what we saw in the hallucinations. They took us back to times we were happier - times we were with family and friends, times when we were part of a group. We note how much the visions focused on the importance of being “one of us,” with outsiders as a threat. Seems like we might be getting an idea of how this Prisoner recruits.

The most important thing we figure out, though, is that it’s late afternoon, and we have no idea where in the hell we are.

Clem blanches. “Shit, I have a dinner appointment tonight.”

Valeria and Clem team up using Lay on Hands and medic abilities to get us back in fightin’ shape. But how are we going to make it back to safety before dark?

We do have a map of the woods from the Sturmhearst annex - it doesn’t look like the abandoned village is marked on it, though. We’re near where we found the Purple Cave Creeper, but that was the easiest plant to find - it’s kind of everywhere. 

Valeria uses her Ring of Jumping to launch herself 18ft straight up into a big sturdy tree. From there, she clambers up to get a better vantage point. She can see the river! We’re a bit west of it, which gives us a basic direction to go. Beyond the river, where it’s not overgrown, there are lights from the village of Bad Herzfeld. We can’t see Sturmhearst at all. Mostly it’s just trees - wait.

There’s a plume of smoke not far to the north.

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire; and where there’s fire, there’s people with flamethrowers.” -Clem Haxan

We decide to head towards the smoke and see who’s been making camp. 

Shoshana rolls a godawful Survival. Clem grabs the map and turns it right side up. This grants advantage and then we do fine. As we pass through, we get an increasing sense that until recently, this side of river looked just like the other side, with fields and farms instead of this thick jungle-like forest. All the overgrown structures are kind of weirding us out, like in those pictures you see where buildings have been completely eaten by kudzu. It’s eerie.

Then we find ourselves in an area with signs of woodcutting. A lot of trees have been cleared. That’s good, right? Somebody has been clearing trees! Up ahead we see fire smoke.

Wow. It’s weird that we got so close to those big log cabins without hearing anybody. No, wait….we’re not that close; perspective is just playing tricks on us because these cabins are REAL FUCKIN’ BIG.

Shoshana excitedly points at the map. This must be Trollsburg!

Oh, hey, there’s a big grey-green figure who is waving at us. Shoshana awkwardly waves back. Gral is incredibly happy to see a non-fungal individual. Yep, this is a burg with trolls.

“Hello!!!” Shoshana calls.

“HULLO!” says the troll.

Shoshana starts headin’ over.

(We ask, but the DM tells us there aren’t any of the fancy plants we need near Trollsburg. Also, it’s getting pretty late.)

“Hullo,” repeats the troll as we get closer. “You okay? You just came outta da woods. You don’t look so good. I mean, your hit point totals look fine…”

“Yeah, uh, the plants tried to eat us.”

“Ooh yah, you gotta watch for dat. But we’re safe here. We been clearin’ the trees away, like the orcs do.”

For lack of anything else to say, Valeria introduces herself. “Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service!”

“Oh! Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Doctor Kjeller. Doctor is a joke, see. I am real smart though.”

Gral ponders. “Might I say, you’re very different from most of the doctors I’ve met.”

Dr. Kjeller nods. “I is a troll doctor, not one of your people doctors. It’s quite easy, we do regenerate most injuries. Really, da word for doctor in troll translates more to ‘chef’. But I was given some credentials,” he tells us proudly.

He shows us a Sturmhearst bird mask he has hanging around his neck like a pendant. “See? I’s a doctor.”

“They accept trolls at Sturmhearst?” Clem asks.

“Oh no, some peoples gave me this. I met a person doctor once, an’ they were wearin’ one of dese. Said I was a doctor for trolls. So how was trolls gonna know they could trust me as a doctor?" He puffs his chest out, showing off the mask, which looks toy-sized by comparison.

“Are you here for the troll moot? Is that what this village is for?”

“Oh, da troll moot, no, yah, that’s what I came here for. Yah, I heard it from Mjonn. I lost my bridge a while back, see. This pack of really mean bandits moved in, chased me out, y’know. I got better, but it hurt real bad when they chewed my arm off. I think they mighta been werewolves. Trolls don’t get dat, but I ate some wolfsbane anyway. So I was kinda down on my luck, but Ionn told me that Coronn told him dat Emmek told her dat there was a trolls moot in dis here valley, so I decided to come check it out.”

“Who’s organizing the moot?”

“Oh, K’jell is the local troll! He lives under the bridge over the river. ‘S a nice bridge! Not gonna lie, I’m a bit jealous.”

“Why are you calling the moot?” There’s an obvious answer - something to do with the Curse - but we want specifics.

“Us trolls gotta be safe! It’s dangerous these days! There’s wolf people and fungus monsters and worse out there! Oh, but da local farmers here had a real bumper harvest, and dey were like, we should do a favor for our friends, the trolls! And they gave us this place. They been feedin’ us with plenty of food, and a place to live, and they been comin’ over and helpin’ us build dese big houses.” 

“Troll moots are pretty rare, aren’t they?”

“Yah, the last one was when the elves come in. The Czar heard about us and it got pretty ugly.” He nods sagely, failing to elaborate.

We shuffle awkwardly. “So, uh,” Shoshana starts. “Can we ask you a favor? We need a favor.”

“I cannot promise since I do not know what you are going to ask. But I promise to help. Dat is da doctorin’ way.”

“Um, can we sleep here tonight?”

“Oh, sure. There’s room in my house. They made the place big enough for two trolls, provided they get cozy. But I’m one of da first arrivals. And as a skilled troll I get some privileges! Like a bigger house, with multiple rooms in it. C’mon in!” 

He gestures towards the oversized house. “Now, it ain’t much.” He opens up the troll-sized door, and shows us the cavernous inside. There’s not much there; trolls aren’t known for lots of material possessions or for needing much furniture. There are two rooms, with no door in between. There’s some herbs hanging on the wall and a crude shelf with a few trinkets, and a big animal skin as a rug. 

“Now, as guests, you can have the skin. I haven’t given it those homely touches yet, I only just moved in. It’s way too dry, but whatcha gonna do? It’s not a bridge,” he apologizes politely.

“It’s lovely,” Valeria responds courteously. “Thank you for sharing your home with us.”

As Dr. Kjeller putters around, Gral pulls the gang aside. Quietly, he mutters, “I think there is something really bad here. What’s planned hasn’t happened yet, since he’s one of the first trolls to arrive – but this town is a trap.”

We consider. “I don’t think the trap will spring tonight,” says Valeria. 

“Yeah, they’re gonna wait until all the trolls are here,” agrees Shoshana.

There’s a little bit of time before the sun goes down, so we have time to look around. There’s at least 20 giant houses here, which adds up to an insane amount of trolls in one place. We want to go look at their food storage; the plants tried to trick us into eating their cursed fungus, and that’s the easiest and subtlest way to infect a horde of hungry trolls with fungal-zombie spores. But Valeria wants to make sure to cast Detect Magic, and we are fresh outta spell slots.

Gral wants to talk to the moot’s organizer tonight – is the local troll ignorant of any nefarious plans, or is he part of it? We gotta find out.

There’s probably enough time to make it to the bridge and have a quick conversation with him. It might give us an idea of whether it’s actually safe to sleep here, or whether it’s worth the risk to travel after dark to get back to the Sturmhearst camp.

(We do agree on one thing. “I’ve known this doctor for like five minutes and I would take an arrow for him,” comments one player. 

“And you might!” replies the devious DM.

We’re very thrilled to have created an entire race of CR 5 cinnamon rolls.)

We head over to the bridge. There’s a little sign indicating a troll is in residence, plus a wooden mailbox that says “K’jelk.”

It’s Shosha’s job, as the local, to talk to trolls. As is apparently customary in Valdian society, Shoshana announces herself by knocking gently on the bridge and singing her silly bumblebee kiddie song.

There’s an earthshaking THUD THUD as something under the bridge shifts. A wooden door opens on the riverbank and an absolutely enormous troll pokes his craggy head out.

“Yeaahhhhh?” he inquires in a deep basso. “I haven’t heard da bumblebee song in a while.”

“Hi,” Gral ventures. “Are you K’jelk?”

“Yyyup!” he rumbles. Dat’s what it says on the sign!”

He points to his necklace, which does in fact include a road sign that says “K’jelk.”

“Are you the one who’s organizing the troll moot?”

“Yes I am. I called it, I told Mjonn, who has a bit of the wanderin’ foot, and he told Dr. Kjeller and Emmek and Hans, and Hans is gonna tell the one down the river, and they’re gonna tell-” he continues to ramble about the troll gossip network, and Valeria has to gently interrupt.

“We actually had a concern with the troll couple on the bridge down the river!”

“Oh, zat so? They okay?”

“Yes, they’re fine, but they got attacked.”

“Oh, we don’t have dat problem here. It’s real safe here.”

“Well, they didn’t exactly get in a fight, though-”

“’Course not. Dere’s two of em! You’d have ta be real dumb to attack two whole trolls. Unless you’re three trolls. We got about ten here, so we’re safe.”

Valeria tries again. “We’re not worried about a fight, though. We’re worried that there might be sort of a….hmm.” How do you phrase “mycological contagion” to a troll?

“K’jelk, have you ever seen fungal zombies?”

“Yah. They smoosh real weird?”

“Yes, the attackers tried to turn that couple into fungus monsters. Did you hear about Trolskiv?”

He nods his huge head. “Dat sort of things is why I called da moot! Trolls can’t be on our own anymore, it’s too dangerous. I expect ghosts got him, probably.”

“No, it was mushrooms,” Gral explains. “In a nearby farmhouse, we found a huge fungus colony that was spreading. We had to burn it down to destroy them. It’s very similar to the stuff growing here.”

“If the fungus is what’s making trolls go berserk, having a lot of trolls in one place might mean...a lot of trolls all go berserk together?” Shoshana tries to clarify.

“Naw, I wouldn’t worry. One of da first ones I got here was Dr. Kjeller. He’s a expert in troll fee-zee-ology. He knows all about troll feezies.”

“He certainly is very…intelligent?” Valeria grants, “but we’ve seen plants around here giving off the same kind of poison spores. The local farmers have an usually large crop - which is why you can hold this moot - and we’re worried there might be fungus growing in it. Can we look at the food stores and make sure there’s nothing bad going on? We’ve seen the fungus infections before, and I’ve got magic that can help.”

He glowers down at her, brow twisted, not really saying anything. Gral jumps in to give her advantage on the Persuasion roll: “The farmer who created the mushroom colony that hurt Trolskiv said he came from Bad Herzfeld. If villagers from there provided that food, it would be wise to look carefully.”

The huge troll relents. “Arright, you can look at da food. I will introduce you to Zelig. She’s the one what’s providin’ all this an’ collectin’ food from the farmers. Pretty sure she was organizin’ a service at the farmers’ temple tonight.”

Valeria’s interest is piqued. “Oh, a service? I’m a Paladin of Rack myself; what sort of service is she holding?”

“Ummmm...da religious kind. No offense to da big chainy rattley man, but trolls don’t really go in for dat. Dat’s one of them little people gods, they don’t bother us much. We got our own. Grandmother and Grandfather are friends of the trolls, and they’ve done us pretty good.

We agree to come by in the morning to take a look at the storehouses; it’s too late tonight. “Yah, just come on by and I’ll get da key out. It’s all in them big barns over dat way.”

We walk on back to Dr. Kjeller’s as the sun sets. We’re entirely sure the trap won’t be sprung tonight, but we agree to keep a watch just in case.

We get over there, and we see Dr. Kjeller leaning against the wall of his cabin with a big pipe in his mouth. He has a flint and tinder in one hand and is smoking like a literal chimney. Whatever he’s smoking smells acrid and foul and sets us coughing.

Eh, he’s a troll, he’ll be fine.

“Hullo!” he calls. “How was K’jelk? Guy’s pretty big, huh!”

“Super big.”

“Yup. Everything’s in order up here, I was about to turn in after a smoke. It’s good for yer health! Want a puff?”

Clem is tempted. Okay, twist her arm, she’s gonna try it. She takes one pull on the pipe and barely makes it a second before making a con save. With an excellent roll, Clem manages to not die. This stuff is foul. She takes 10 damage as the smoke sears her windpipe.

“Yup, as soon as da inside of your lungs grow back, you’ll feel great!” Dr. Kjeller tells her, smiling. Clem gives a thumbs up and nods, trying not to cough her lung membranes out.

The doc pours a barrel of water into the end of the pipe, putting the unsmoked bit that’s left on his shelf. He puts on a comically large nightcap as he gets ready to turn in.

“Water barrel’s right dere, if’n you want something to drink in the night, an’ there’s a bit o’ jerky hanging off the rack in dere if’n you want a midnight snack.”

Valeria, ever the polite guest, replies, “We appreciate your hospitality. Thanks so much!”

He goes in other room and kind of clonks over, out like a light in under a minute.

Valeria takes first watch, and the rest of us must make saves to get to sleep – it turns out trolls snore somethin’ fierce.

Clem barfs and passes out due to the trollpipe. Warning: NOT FOR DROW CONSUMPTION.

Shoshana brews a knockout tea with her herbalism kit and doses herself. Gral uses his cursed lutestrings to wooble a pillow around his ears. “I shouldn’t be getting used to this power, but I’ve had a long day. Fuck it.”

We all take 1 taint for resting in a mildly cursed zone. Trollsburg’s not as bad as the rest of the forest, but we are - so to speak - not out of the woods yet.

When we get up in the morning, Dr. Kjeller is already awake and cheerily heading down to the river. We follow, since we need to talk to K’jelk about investigating the foodstuffs, and come across the two trolls attempting a morning exercise routine in the river. K’jelk is trying hard but is poorly following along at Dr. Kjeller’s awkward-looking, clunky troll yoga. Dr. Kjeller says: Morning calisthenics is very important for a healthy troll body!

“Oh hey guys,” Shoshana mumbles groggily as she wanders up to the bank, blinking the last of her sleepy-tea hangover out of her eyes. “What’sOOOOOHHHHH GOD I can see everything that troll owns!”

“Hey, at least we don’t have to save against that kind of taint!”

We go out and investigate the food stores. Everything looks all-clear; there’s no sign of weird fungus growths at all. We are Skeptical.

Valeria casts Detect Magic on the grain stores, and finds absolutely nothing except a lot of beets. She grumbles about wasting a spell slot for no reason. 

While Gral and Valeria are still sorting through bushels of food, Clem and Shoshana see a group of humans leading an ox-cart up the way. Clem flags ‘em down.

There’s an old woman riding in the cart, sitting among a heaping pile of provisions, clearly more supplies for the storehouse. She’s accompanied by two buff farmhands. “Ahh,” she says, “you must be the visitors K’jelk mentioned.”

“We are,” Clem admits. “And you?”

“I am Zelig. These two are Hans and Franz.” The two very beefy humans look at Clem and offer an end-of-Predator-freezeframe-handshake. Clem makes a Strength check, and somehow Hans (possibly Franz, we can’t tell which is which) wins, therefore claiming the Schwarzenegger role. Clem concedes - it’s okay, the adventuring life’s got her pushing too many pencils.

Zelig smiles. “We were just here to deliver some grain for the warehouse!”

Clem nods. “Well, at the moment, we’re inspecting the food on hand for potential fungal infection, and-”

Shoshana elbows her super hard, but the cat’s out of the bag.

“Oh yes, we must be on our way soon, but it’s no issue if you want to take a look,” the old woman says, her smile unwavering. “We have nothing to hide! I must wonder why - ahhh, a Knight of the Rose! Of course!” she crows as Valeria emerges from the barn.

While Clem inspects the grain on the cart, Valeria strikes up a conversation. “I sure am! Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service. Are you Zelig? I heard you were leading some sort of service last night. Are you a follower of Rack as well?”

“Oh, I’m nothing so grand,” Zelig defers. “The local cleric of Lethe ran the farmers’ temple, but he passed away recently under mysterious circumstances. He was trying to rescue some people from western side of the valley and never returned.” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think some of those Sturmhearst people were involved.”

“Oh, have they been causing trouble?”

“Nothing overt, but, well. You know.”

Franz, or possibly Hans, adds, “They’re from the big city, they don’t understand us.”

Valeria soldiers on. “So you’ve had to take over the temple of Lethe?”

“Oh, it’s a full temple, all the gods are represented! But yes, it was a cleric of Lethe that did run it. Bjorn was his name, he’s gone now. I’ve taken over as best I can. We’ve got a good community here, and they needed…well, I keep the place clean and the lights on and say a few words when everybody gathers…”

Valeria squints at her, and Nat 20′s her Insight check! Zelig is lying about something. The words are true, but this hunched old woman is sizing Valeria up as a threat. (”Understandable, I am,” quips her player.)

(Clem, meanwhile, finds nothing in the grain, although she thinks Hans and Franz might be juicing. You do not get that much definition just from farming.)

Val twitches her official cloak out a little bit. “You recognized me as Order of the Rose. Have any of them come through recently?”

“Oh, everybody knows of them, but I did see one once. I believe he might still be in this area. I could ask around, if you’d like to speak to him. He never did say his name...”

That pings us all as weird, because Valeria can’t go ten seconds into meeting someone without introducing herself by name and title.

Valeria keeps her calm. “If he’s still around, I’d love to talk to him. It’s been so long since I’ve seen one of the Order.”

Clem, Hans, and Franz get busy in the background unloading the cart. There is definitely gratuitous and competitive flexing as they heft the heavy bags.

Shoshana decides to put her Charisma score to use and lays on the small-town charm thick. “We heard about the tragedy downriver with Trolskiv. I’m so glad to see you’re taking care of the trolls here; we’ve been so worried and it’s really wonderful to see you being so kind and giving them a place to keep safe.”

“We don’t have great armies or knights, but we do have a lot of food,” Zelig replies, equally friendly. “I thought, wouldn’t it be lovely if we could all come together in this place?”

She offers to send a few people out to find the Knight of the Rose. “Last I heard, he’s been wandering around helping folks.”

“Yeah, we do that.”

Zelig, all solicitous charm, asks if we have a place to stay for the night. We can’t exactly say we do, and she offers to reserve us a room at the local inn.

Shoshana maintains her friendly facade. “That’s very kind of you, thank you for such a hospitable offer.”

“Oh, we’ll charge you 3 silver for it. We’re kind and simple, not stupid.”

Eh, that’s fair.

Zelig does a quick walk-through of Trollsburg, seemingly to make sure everything is going well, and as Hans and Franz finish stacking the last of the food. She’s calm and unflappable, seeming to have no worry whatsoever that we’ll find anything here. Valeria tries to project an image of being tall, sparkly, and intimidating, but is somewhat overshadowed by the two hunks of grade-A organic farm beefcake.

Valeria casts Detect Magic as the three villagers tour around. Valeria taps the pink bead on her ear chain and doesn’t say anything, but we can all tell she’s kinda bitter.

Valeria taps her pink bead and doesn’t say anything, but is bitter about that.

Shortly, they’re done with their business. “Take an old woman back to town, if you would,” she requests, and Hans and Franz lift her back onto the cart, making eye contact with Clem the whole time. We watch as the cart trundles away, back towards the village.

Clem thinks they’re juicing on fungus. Gral agrees; yyyyeah, these are a couple of simple farm boys who are stronger than war vets. That ain’t natural.

Anyway.

We have the rest of the day to ourselves, and we have two more rare plants to find for spell components. We consult our map, and make a plan: we’ll go out and try to find the red mandrake root, then hit up the Sturmhearst camp to say hi to Flynn and Fiona, and then we’ll slide into town in the late afternoon to check the place out and cautiously take them up on their offer of hospitality.

We head into the woods. Clem rolls a decent survival check, and we find the plant surprisingly easily, coming across the distinctive red flower fairly quickly. Valeria happily reaches down and confidently yanks one out of the ground.

Shoshana, rolling a poor nature check, is a moment too late to remember why that’s a terrible idea. 

Everybody gets to roll a wisdom save!

The root, pulled free from the ground, is bright red and forms a vaguely humanoid shape. And as anyone who’s heard the legend of the mandrake will expect, it opens its mouth and screams.

Clem and Valeria, failing their saves, take damage and are briefly stunned as the piercing wail echoes throughout the valley. We all clutch at our ears in pain as the thing wriggles and shrieks. 

We can’t hear anything over the awful noise, but the trees shudder as the forest begins to wake.

-to be continued-

[jq37]

Have you done breakdowns of the last few episodes yet? If not 👀

**spoilers for a new york wedding**

Prologue: I had a partially free day today (as in the day I started writing this which is now two days ago) so I decided to swing by Central Park and check out the Bethesda Fountain where I saw both a proposal and a man on a segway with a live snake around his neck so, yeah, New York is just Like That.

"Here's a possibly magic crown. Why don't we ask the butt stuff guy about that?"

The face Brennan makes when Emily says, "I used to do colonics at the salon," is great. Like, "We are two minutes into this ep, your sentence isn't even complete, and I already can't handle it."

So they get out of the sewers and Bethesda Fountain has been attacked (which is a shame just aesthetically because, having now seen it in person, it's a really pretty fountain). Em is devastated and explains that the fountain is like a Important magical symbol of good change and a source of divine purification magic.

Another side note about the fountain: There are these little cherub figures around it in additional to the Angel. I wonder if those are sentient too. Also-also, the promenade across from the fountain has these cool murals of the seasons. My point is, there's a lot of fodder for possible lore just in that small area of the park.

Misty finds ashes by the fountain (concerning) and wipes it on Kugrash's fur (rude).  

I love that Emily thought Pete was pouring one out (one being one bag of cocaine).

"Sophie, your magic is that you're a wonderful person and you jump really good."

"The Bread Wedding"

Kudos to Brennan for all the wide range of crazy voices he had to do in this ep. Don Confetti. The Golem. Perry the Pigeon. That can't be easy on the throat.

Sophie is fully ready to fistfight Don Confetti over their last names which is wild for a lot of reasons we're not gonna get into.

So Brennan has everyone roll a Wis save and everyone did OK except I think Ricky. Brennan never explains why he had them roll that. Concerning. I'm wondering now if it was something that would have needed a nat 20 to save from it or something where the people who saved didn't realized they saved from it and the people who didn't are just ticking time bombs or sleeper agents or something else awful.

Pete is such a dangerous friend to be around when you're emotionally compromised. His solution to everything is drugs.

"It's an off-white!" --Misty upon being called out for wearing white to a wedding.

Brennan has Perry go on a wild 39 second monologue about relationships that Pete interrupts by stuffing drugs down his gullet--see again my previous bullet about Pete.

Sophie notices that a lot of the pixies recognize her which pm confirms her brother is In This which, to use the word of the day again, *Concerning*.

Emily having Sophie get really emotional but also struggling to keep the laughter out of her face is always super funny to watch.

So Pete finds a table of vampires. Brennan spends a couple of minutes describing them before he gets to it outright but it's pretty immediately clear they're vamps. Well, vamps plus a suspicious older guy and a girl (Melissa) who seems to be playing Renfield to the vamps. Getting high so they can drink her blood and get high. Pete brilliantly confirms this by getting the suspicious guy (Rob, as far as we know) to go off on Politics and then deep mind-reading the girl. That's one of the most clever RP things I've seen a player do. Pete also sees that Rob is hanging out with the vamps but he doesn't seem to be one.

Pete fails his wild magic check but nothing happened that we know of. A lot of stuff on the wild magic table is situational though (like the reincarnate spell from Bloodkeep with the potion Sohkbarr drank).

Rob implies he knows what happened with Pete's dad. Pete goes into a tailspin, as if he isn't constantly in one.

Everyone dancing so they can talk in public instead of just, like, having a sidebar. Just that entire sequence is peak comedy.

Ricky, the good boy, is dancing with his pigeon date while everyone else is mystery solving (or, in Soph's case, crying in a closet or something).

Rob is supposedly in finance. Last time there was a character involved in finance/banking in D20 it was the whole KVX fiasco in FH.

"Did I use up my favor? I could have had anything in the world."

Sophie upon seeing anything young woman in any kind of situation immediately springs into action, ready to drag them out by any means necessary. I love her.

Robert works at a hedge fund and Kug recognizes him. Brennan explains how he knows him in a very vague way which the rest of the table clocks instantly. Murph asks if Rob knows Gabriela. He does. Who the hell is Gabriela, Misty and I wonder.

Emily goes galaxy brain and theorizes that the bad guys are laundering souls which is equal parts bonkers and brilliant. The camera unhelpfully *doesn't* cut back to Brennan so I can attempt to read his DM poker face. I am reminded of Emily wondering if [redacted] was in the sword in a recent ep of Naddpod and Murph just deciding that they were on the spot because it was cooler than what he had planned. I know you can't win at DnD but I think Emily is winning at DnD.

I mentioned this in passing I think last recap, but Pete's magic is really interesting to me because Pete doesn't know what his character sheet looks like and he's not someone like Kingston or Ricky who's been doing their thing for a while and knows that they can do and what the things he can do are called. So Ally has to get a little creative about activating abilities (like True Strike in this ep) without being too meta, if that makes sense.

Kug knows Rob from a while ago (from the 80's he later says) but he doesn't seem to have aged. The group is thinking vampire, but he wasn't drinking blood in the memory Pete saw. Suspicious. Put a pin in that with everything else on my conspiracy board.

Misty: Eyyyy Macarena!

Kug kisses the pigeon. Sure.

Misty/Siobhan also does a clever thing and suggests taking a selfie with the vamp table in the background to see who shows up. Only Melissa and Rob do, so they're not vamps for sure.

So they go back to Kingston's place and he, Pete, and Sophie cook for everyone which has basically nothing really to do with the plot but I think it was a nice character beat for them.

Kingston and Misty fought a mummy on Long Island back in the day. As you do. Sidenote, when I was in Central Park today (two days ago), I passed by a big-ass obelisk that apparently exists and that I am *certain* Brennan has lore for, even if it doesn't come up.

Misty, a very wealthy Broadway star: If you pay for the Metropolitan Museum, you're a Goddamn fool.

Sophie had not put together that Misty is a fairy before now and I was like ??? for a second but, actually, with the info she has, that's not necessarily the conclusion she would draw. She could just be a really short lady with magic. It's been that kind of week.

Kingston presses Kug on how he knows Rob and Kug reluctantly confesses that HE USED TO BE A GUY. Zac blindly guesses that he was a stockbroker which is ALSO CORRECT.

"movie horse breeder" is such a specific job to pull out of thin air.

Siobhan, making a choice: Let me tell you about my good friend, John Wilkes Booth.

Brennan's total break of composure when Zac/Ricky says, "I wasn't always a firefighter." Zac lowkey has the best comic timing of everyone on the squad. He's just really understated about it.

Anyway, there are levels to this. How long has Kug been a rat??? I feel like it must have been a while because of all the weird ass stuff that he does. Also, he excuses a lot of his behaviors due to being a rat considering he's actually a rat-MAN, emphasis on the man. The stock broker thing surprised me more considering that Kug is introduced doing some pretty altruistic, non-stockbroker-y things. Did Kug piss off a homeless witch and get Beauty and the Beast-ed? He never actually answered the question about how he knows Rob since everyone got sidetracked by the fact that he used to be a whole-ass HUMAN MAN. Did Rob curse him for less moral lesson reasons? What's going on here????

Esther and Ale have been researching. The grey baby is apparently named Nod, just like the place, and it (it specifically, not him or her) like the ruler of there.

There's this whole group bit Brennan, Ally, and Siobahn do about how you can take the L train really far and then catch a shuttle bus that can only be seen by the pure of heart to get to Nod and it's really funny but how funny would it be if they actually tried to do it in a dire moment and also Ricky could do it for sure send tweet.

Kingston is trying so-so hard to keep everyone on task all episode. Bless him.

Kug asks Esther about her mom, which surprises her. He says they used to be friends (Did *SHE* curse him????). Esther says she hasn't seen her in a long time, since she was 5 or 6. Of course, it's easy to want to connect this to the Gabriela he was asking about earlier but we'll see about that. I think I saw some people speculating that he's Esther's dad which I'm even more skeptical about considering what we learn later but wouldn't that be wild?

Ricky decides to shoot his shot with Esther. His brain is full of love, determination, civic responsibility, and absolutely nothing else, bless his golden retriever heart.

Brennan as Esther drops the best stealth joke (though, it has a very high likelihood of crossing from joke to plot point) in D20 so far with the Imperial Axiom/Sinatra's Law explanation. It was a full, "Wait. What? Oh!" Big gold star for Brennan for that one. I had to take a second and recover from that when I heard it the first time.  Beyond the joke, it also seems like a likely hook for the eventual Big Bad of the campaign. First NY, then the world, you know?

The fact that the highways go against the grain of magic leylines of NY in this world is such a good detail and it makes a lot of sense intuitively.

Zac breaks Brennan again with the, "Traffic's really bad," comment.

Please let Ricky's big dumb puppy self win over Esther. "It's really hard for me." Riiiickyyyy.

So Kingston goes to see Willy, the Williamsburg golem about Lazarus from the Bible (New Testament). Aren't golems de facto Jewish? I think. I am correct. However, as much as Willy doesn't know about the New Testament, he *does* know about the Statue of Liberty which is convenient because--shoutout to the people who figured it out in advance--Lazarus is not Lazarus from the Bible. It's Emma Lazarus who wrote the poem on the Statue of Liberty. This of course means that I need to do a close read of that poem at some point but not today baby because I need more information before I start going full Pepe Silvia. Sidenote: What a great place for Kingston to be when figuring out that info. Close enough that Willy can just point out the statue. It's cinematic. Fantastic.

(Also, I made a post about the fact that Siobahn just knew Emma's name off the top of her head, but when it cut to the other side of the table, Emily's eyes got all big too).

Emily gets a nat20 which RUINS her plans because she runs into Isabella aka the woman her husband left her for. They have an adult Means Girls stand-off where Sophie finds out they're getting married (or at least having a ceremony bc Dale didn't send her divorce papers yet). Big ups to Emily for staying in character and ditching all the sleuthing she was going to do because there is no way Sophie would be stable enough for that to be her top priority at the moment (even though I really wanted her to do all that stuff!)

Also, I'm looking forward to watching Sophie rip her to shreds when she inevitably turns out to be a succubus/demon/fiend/whatever. Honestly, she can just barfight her and I'd be satisfied.  

So Misty goes home and finds a present waiting for her. It's a big ass mirror. Correction. It's a big ass mirror that Titania immediately uses to angry Skype her. Yikes.

It seems like her shoes of Titania are literally that, stolen from Titania (love that Titania was barefoot in her character art btw). I know they let her cast a certain spell in an earlier episode but I'm wondering why she stole them. Maybe they helped her cross over from Faerie (which happened ~400 years ago we ind out)?

Titania is pissed that Misty is stealing "glamour" that should be hers (via playing her in the new show). Glamour in the fairy sense is like a disguise. Glamour in the DnD sense is a fey-based bard option (which is the class I'm guessing Titania will be if they have to fight her). Curious to get a deeper explanation on that later.  

Misty is able to cover back up the mirror but she breaks a hip in the process because of Titania's mojo and has to call Kingston. I already said this but I love their relationship.

(Sidenote, I meant to mention this earlier, but I think whiffs of the undead came up a couple of times in this ep which makes me wonder if the mummy situation Kingston mentioned is going to come back).

"Please, use any one of the guestrooms."

I FORGOT ABOUT KUG'S STUFF AT THE END

Ugh, this ep is an emotional roller coaster

"Wherever you are Rat Jesus, know that I love you. From Wally." What a good boy. 

Everyone reacting to Murph's reaction to Wally before they Find Out is like, an experience. It's like that airpods meme.

OK, I'm not going to go through a whole play by play because nothing I could say would be better than watching the scene but I guess Murph/Bren decided in for a penny, in for a pound because we find out via a conversation between Wally and his businessman brother David that he is Kug's SON. HIS SON. S O N.

Wally is convinced that their dad wouldn't have just left them. David thinks Wally is being naive. I want to die.

Everyone around the table except maybe Ally is so visibly upset at this new information and Ally goes, "FUCK!" at the end so you know we all express emotions in different ways.

God, it's so sad! And I'm not gonna say, "I knew it!" because I didn't. I super didn't. But when Wally was introduced (man that scene hits differently now) I remember thinking, this is such an oddly specific NPC. Like, you know when you're playing a game and the stuff you can click is slightly better rendered and you can kind of tell what you should focus on and what's background art? That's how he felt.

Anyway, again, I'm sad. (GMYeah!.gif)

Watching *OVER* you Murph. OVER you. That's how you make it not creepy!

Meanwhile, Pete lets a bunch of bug monsters out of his dream into real New York City which, tbh, I'm not surprised. This seems like the kind of thing that would happen. Pete is exactly the worst kind of person to be the dream avatar in terms of being responsible.

I love that Siobhan is like, “I have a broken hip” as if all but one of them don’t have literal magic powers. That’s a very fixable problem compared to other stuff they’ve dealt with that day alone. 

Anyway next time, a wasp centaur (thanks, I hate it) and a nat 20! See you then.

[numba99]

The Arrangement Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: You’re an aspiring model in NYC who is offered an opportunity of a lifetime - an arranged relationship with a famous Ranger. Things start out rough and are further complicated by the fact you’re already in a relationship. Will you be able to figure things out or will it all end in disaster? Word count:2,787

A/n: hi sorry I have been MIA for so long take this as my peace offering. Also for the sake of this we gonna pretend like media is bigger into hockey players social lives okay tysm

After your date with Mika in Central Park, you waiting for an angry confrontation from Eric that never came. There were a few tweets floating around with the photos of you two (which was still incredibly weird for you), but he never mentioned it. He must not have seen it, and for that you were incredibly thankful. It would be hard to continue the whole Mika is an asshole story when the two of you were joyfully tossing popcorn at each other.

It was only a few days later when your next date was set up. You were told you would be having dinner at a restaurant with Mika, which made you nervous. Not that you thought it would be a bad time, but because that felt a lot more like a real date. You knew how it would look to Eric, and you weren’t sure you he would believe anything you tried to tell him. Your only hope would be that he would remain oblivious to it as he seemed to be right now.

You stood in front of your closet, looking for a “sexy but casual” outfit, as Alice had instructed you to wear. You were going to a dinner at a restaurant that was frequented by many celebrities who visited New York, though you’ve never been yourself. It wasn’t exactly in your budget. Apparently, the restaurant’s vibe was sexy casual and you just had to dress the part. Whatever that meant

You finally decided on your favorite pair of black skinny jeans that hugged you body in all the right ways, a plunging dark red body suit, a leather jacket and black pumps. Black and red was sexy right? You thought to yourself as you dressed yourself. You checked the mirror and you had to admit it, you felt pretty hot.

Just as you finished all the last touched, there was a knock at the door. You were praying it wasn’t Eric because you knew he would have a lot of questions if he saw you about to go out dressed like this. To your relief, the person behind the door was Fred, who was a lot shorter than you had thought.

“Hey Fred!” you greeted cheerfully, “You look a lot different standing up.”

Fred chuckled. “Yeah I get that a lot. I was just going to text you as usual, but Mika wanted me to give you these flowers,” he said handing over a bouquet of red dahlias, “He would have given you them himself, but apparently he’s not allowed to yet. I really don’t get this shit.”

You laughed. “Neither do I. Thanks Fred, I’ll just be a second.” Fred nodded and waited outside the door for you. You pulled out the little card which read, “Dahlias symbolize staying graceful under pressure. Seemed appropriate. - Mika.” You smiled, replaced the vase filled with the peonies (which were way past their prime) with your new bouquet.

You then headed out, following Fred to the car. He opened the door and helped you slide in, which you were really grateful for since these heels weren’t always your best friend.

“You know, it’s a little spooky how you managed to pick flowers that matched my outfit,” you teased Mika as Fred shut the door behind you.

“It’s a talent,” he shrugged, laughing lightly. The two of you made light conversation as you were driven to your destination. Mika, of course, had eaten there a few times before and promised you you were going to love it. He did, however, say that there was almost always paparazzi there, so you should brace yourself.

When you pulled up to the restaurant, you realized what he was talking about. A bunch of people were standing outside, cameras in hand. Just waiting to take pictures, pictures of you. You tensed up, not sure you were ready for what was on the other side of the car door.

Sensing your nerves, Mika shifted over closer to you. “Are you alright?” Mika asked.

“Yeah I- I just guess there were more people than I expected,” you replied, trying not to allow yourself to get too flustered.

“I know it’s kind of scary,” Mika replied, “But I’ll be with you the whole time, okay? And if it makes you feel any better, they’ll probably be disappointed it’s only us. They really want actors and singers, we are boring.” Mika laughed at himself, making you smile despite the nerves.

“I’ve never been so happy to be boring. I think I’ll be okay though,” you said.

“I know you will,” Mika assured you, placing his hand on the door, “Ready?” You nodded, and with that the door swung open. Mika stepped out first, grabbing the attention of the paparazzi.

“Mika!”

“Mika over here!”

“Who’s the girl?”

There rapid fire questions buzzed in your ear as you were bombarded with flashes form their cameras. Mika’s hand landed on your lower back, gently guiding you towards the door. You kept your head down as you walked, hoping by some miracle they wouldn’t get a good picture of your face.

Finally, you made it to the safety of the restaurant. “I think I’m going to go blind,” you said, trying to blink the flash out of your eyes.

Mika chuckled, “You’ll get used to it.” You shook your head, as you were led to your table wondering how you could ever get used to that.

“I thought you said no one would know it is you?” you asked as you weaved through tables in the dimly lit restaurant.

“Hey I’m not that boring,” Mika teased, “New York media is crazy though. Big sports town and people care about the players. Kinda weird, but it is what it is.” You nodded, guessing that was true. In your time in New York you have quickly realized people take sports very seriously here. 

When you arrived at the table, Mika pulled out the chair for you. “Never got a chance to tell you, you look great tonight.” You looked down, hiding your blush, as Mika walked around to his seat.

“So do you,” you replied, taking him in. He wore dark jeans and a white shirt, with the buttons opened, revealing a necklace dangling over his ski. It was so simple, yet he looked so good. It suddenly hit you how attractive Mika was, with his dark mess of hair and hazel eyes that were damn near hypnotic. There was something so enticing about him. You fidgeted in your seat, uncomfortable with this revelation.

Luckily, the waiter came over, distracting you from your thoughts. You ordered drinks - just water for you, seeing as you were under orders not to drink while you were together. Can’t control people when they’re drunk, you guessed.

“So this is how the other half lives,” you said, looking around the very expensive looking room.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Mika smirked.

“Not bad,” you agreed, “But, truthfully, I’d be just as fine at home in sweats ordering in.”

“That sounds pretty nice right about now,” Mika replied, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing muscular forearms.

The waiter came back around, asking for orders. You hadn’t really looked at the menu, so you just asked for the first thing your eyes landed on. Mika picked what he wanted without having to look at the menu.

“How has your week been?” you asked as the waiter walked away.

“Tiring,” Mika admitted, “Coming back from road games is always tough.”

“IS the team playing well at least?”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “We are kind of in rebuild mode. Could be worse, but definitely could be a lot better.”

“That must be frustrating,” you replied.

“Yeah it kinda sucks sometimes,” Mika replied, “But it’s part of being an athlete I guess. I have some great teammates, though, that makes it a lot easier.”

“That’s good,” you replied, “Maybe I’ll have to come out to a game one of these days.”

“You’ve never been to a hockey game?” Mika asked.

You shook your head, “Was never really my thing. My boyfriend goes occasionally, but it’s more of his friends that are into it. I’ve never really bothered to go.”

“We are definitely going to have to change that,” Mika replied.

“I think you just want to show off for me,” you teased, feeling bold out of nowhere.

Mika chuckled, “What can I say, I enjoy an ego stroke.”

“I won’t be doing any stroking… wait that doesn’t sound right.” The two of you erupted in laughter at your poor choice of phrasing. “Shit okay I blew that one. What I meant was I’ll go to a game and give my honest opinion. You gotta earn your stroking in this house.”

“Fair deal” Mika replied, flashing a dazzling white smile, “So what have you been up to this week?”

“Just a few little photo shoots here and there, nothing special,” you told him.

“You don’t sound too excited about it,” Mika noted.

You shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for every opportunity I get, but little campaign ads aren’t what I really want to be doing. I want to do like high fashion things, walk runways, things that are a little more interesting.”

“I know you said you don’t want anything because of someone else, but I do have some connections at Gucci,” Mika told you, “I could get you in the door for their next casting call. I could set it up so they wouldn’t know I sent you, so if you got the gig, it would be because of you, not me.”

“Mika I-I don’t even know what to say, you don’t have to do that,” you replied in disbelief.

“I want to,” Mika insisted, “I think you deserve something nice after having to go through all this.”

“That would be so amazing, I would appreciate it more than you could know,” you told him, feeling excitement bubbling up inside you. You’ve wanted to do high fashion for so long and a brand like Gucci could open so many doors for you. The thought alone made you giddy.

“Consider it done.”

Mika began to tell you about how he’s gotten close with the creative directors of Gucci over the years, and you listened intently. You were love fashion, and found all the behind the scenes information so interesting. Plus, it helps to know this stuff in your profession. The two of you chatted all about fashion throughout the meal, which you both equally enjoyed.

“It’s so nice to finally have someone to talk about these kind of thing with,” you gushed as you finished your food.

“Eric not a fashion man?”

“If you consider three pairs of jeans and some t shirts or flannels fashion, than sure he is a fashion man,” you joked.

“Do you love him?” Mika asked. You stared at him for a moment, taken aback by the blunt question.

“Yeah, I love him, but,” you paused, trying to think of the right way to say it.

“You know, my mom always told me that anything a person says before the word but doesn’t mean anything,” Mika replied. You frowned, not liking that he was picking at a topic you would rather not think about.

“I love him,” you restated, formulating a way to explain it without saying but, “It’s just that, sometimes he doesn’t always feel like the guy I first met. We can be really different at times, but opposites attract right?”

“Right,” Mika nodded, checking the watch on his wrist, “I think it’s about time we get going.” You nodded, glad to avoid a conversation about Eric. Mika pulled out his wallet and tossed down two $100 bills, as if they were nothing.

“So we’re supposed to say we’re just friends on the way out, right?” you asked, trying to recall what Alice had told you to do.

“Right, but I should warn you,” Mika began, stopping right before the the exit, “There are going to be more people out there than before now that they know we are here.” You gulped, wondering how there could possibly be more than before.

“Great,” you sighed sarcastically.

“Don’t worry y/n, I’ll be right here,” Mika said extending his hand to you. You took it, giving him a soft smile. Mika turned towards the door and the second it opened flashes were all you could see. He was right, there were a lot more than before, including screaming fans.

Mika held your hand tightly as you walked to the car, which thankfully Fred had waiting right outside. He held his other arm out in front of him, clearing a path for the two of you to walk. You heard your name being called in the crowd and your heart dropped as you realized they figure out who you were.

“Mika, y/n! Over here!”

“How was dinner? Was this a date?”

“Are the two of you in a relationship?”

“We’re just friends,” Mika replied, in the direction of the voice. It was impossible to tell where exactly it was coming from. You looked up and nodded in agreement, grateful had his wits about him enough to say something.

“I seriously don’t know how you’re not blind,” you stated once you finally were secure in the car.

“I think I’ve built up an immunity at this point,” Mika replied, “You handled it like a champ though.”

“Thanks,” you replied shyly, “Kind of freaky they know my name now.” You frowned, knowing this would not go over well with a certain someone.

“You may want to put your social media on private,” Mika suggested.

You pulled out your phone, but got distracted by missed calls and texts from Eric. “Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Mika asked.

“Eric must have found out, and he’s not happy,” you sighed. You didn’t want to read them all, knowing they probably weren’t very nice (the first one you saw was ‘come see me when you’re done cheating on me,’ and you decided to stop there. “Fred, could you take me to my boyfriend’s house? It’s just down the block from my place,” you asked. Fred nodded and you slumped in your seat, not looking forward to this.

“Are you going to be okay?” Mika asked.

“Yeah, I mean I get it, this doesn’t exactly look great. I’ll just have to tell him something that will hopefully calm him down,” you sighed. As you finished talking, Fred pulled up to Eric’s building, sending a wave of nerves through you.

Mika squeezed your hand. “You can do it. If you need anything, feel free to call me,” he said. You thanked him before saying goodbye and slipping out of the car.

The elevator ride up to Eric’s seemed longer than usual. Each floor you passed made your heart beat a little faster. Finally you were outside his door, and although you were debating running home, you found yourself knocking on the door.

Eric answered almost instantly, and he was fuming. “Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” you insisted, stepping in and closing the door behind you so his nosy neighbors couldn’t listen in.

“Really? Because it looks to me like you’re on a fucking date with another guy,” he snapped.

“It’s not, really, it’s just a part of the interview process,” you told him.

“What sort of interview involves you dressing like that and going out to eat at an expensive restaurant?” Eric questioned.

“I don’t know, I just do what my agent tells me. It’s all business, it’s just how these rich and famous people do it,” you replied, anger bubbling up in you. Okay, sure, you were kind of lying. But there wasn’t anything going on between you and Mika and that was the truth.

“Are you fucking him?”

“What? No, are you crazy?” you snapped, pissed he would think so little of you.

“At this point, it wouldn’t surprise me,” he replied.

“You know what? I don’t fucking need this right now. You clearly don’t trust me and I am not about to be yelled at by someone who doesn’t even care about me,” you spat turning towards the door.

Eric yelled something nasty after you but you could barely hear it, on account of how angry you were. You were seeing red as you made your way home. You tried to walk as quickly as you could, but the heels were not helping. By the time you made it to your apartment, anger had mixed with sadness.

When you reached your bed, you flopped down, tears spilling out of your eyes until sleep finally took you.

[eggoreviews]

9 Things That Need to Happen in Breath of the Wild’s Sequel

Just as I was getting over my intense love for Breath of the Wild, Nintendo go and drop that trailer on us at E3 and stop my whole ass heart. Hi, I’m two months late to the party on this one, but I’ve had a lot of time to think over what this sequel can learn from its predecessor and the rest of the series, as well as what brand new stuff can be brought to the table to make this sequel as spectacular as the first. Without further ado, here’s my list of 9 things Nintendo should do to make this amazing, as well as my own personal theories on what they could do to make it happen. Enjoy!

Spoilers for Breath of the Wild ahead!

1. Ditch the shrines

Don’t get me wrong, I loved the shrines in Breath of the Wild, I loved how difficult some of them were to find, how they brilliantly utilised each and every mechanic in the game and testing you on everything you’ve learned. These shrines were the ultimate compliment to a game that really wasn’t about holding your hand. But I think they’ve had their time, and it might be a nice idea to go back to some of the larger, more traditional dungeons of Zelda past. I’m not saying to go back to the old way of ‘you get given an item, it’s useful for one dungeon and that’s all’, I’m saying they need to definitely keep the massive variety of ways you can approach dungeons to keep that sense of freedom intact, but at the same time give us whole new types of dungeon with more visual variety. Abandoned forts, weird Lorule-esque dark versions of dungeons, towers, there’s really any kind of location they could explore when designing a new set of dungeons. Oh, and I adored the divine beasts, but I’m hoping for something completely different and surprising when it comes to main story dungeons this time around.

2. A whole new world map

If there’s one thing I think basically everyone agrees on, it’s that Breath of the Wild absolutely nailed its world. A huge, sprawling map with a variety of locales to explore and all of it packed to the brim with extra content and adventure-y fun. But we all know this world inside out, and even if they strip it bare and fill it with brand new secrets, it’ll still feel too much like something we’ve seen before. So from what we know from the trailer, it seems like Link and Zelda will be delving into the underground in this latest installment, so a fairly safe theory would be that they’ll uncover a whole new world down there, perhaps a forgotten and buried civilisation from thousands of years ago, now overgrown with Ganon’s influence and bizarre plants and animals that don’t exist on the surface. If they’re going full Majora’s Mask on this one, I think Nintendo’s best bet is to fully embrace this new darker tone they’ve shown to us and give us a world that is as twisted as that trailer.

3. Keep Zelda’s importance to the plot

I could honestly make a whole separate blog post about the evolution of Zelda as a character throughout the series, from her literally being asleep the whole time in Zelda II, to her role as more of a quest-giver in Ocarina and more recent games like Twilight Princess and Skyward Sword where she plays a much more active role in the plot. In Breath of the Wild however, they did something completely different that I adored; they made her into her own person. I mean sure, she was never completely devoid of character, but between the games where she wasn’t really there and the games where she’s outshone by every other character, Breath of the Wild really felt like her time to be properly fleshed out and have enough depth to be remembered. Sure, Zelda doesn’t turn up in the flesh until the end, but you spend the whole game with her voice guiding you, with you finding memories of your past with Zelda; how she seemed to have only contempt for you at the beginning because of Link’s fulfilled destiny compared to hers. You form your own opinion of her through her actions and how the champions perceive her (Urbosa as her sort of mother figure, Revali sees her as ever so slightly inferior for not being able to access her power and the mutual respect between Mipha and Zelda). Then you watch their relationship grow and change into something neither of them can really understand, but they become so close and so integral to each other that Zelda is the one to finally make him open up about himself. And that makes it all the more heartbreaking that Link has had all these memories snatched away from him and, of course, all the more gratifying when he finally gets them back so him and you, the player, both understand that you’re not just fighting for the safety of a realm you’ve been shoved into with no recollection of what’s happening, you’re fighting to be reunited with Link’s closest friend. Very probably more than friend, considering that final memory in Korok Forest. Nintendo did a brilliant job of laying the groundwork for Zelda not as a plot device or a damsel in distress, but a real, complex human being who enriches the story and makes the world you’re living in and what you’re fighting for feel more alive. So build on top of this! Keep developing Zelda, ask those questions of how Zelda feels now she’s free of Ganon and her constant fear of her power failing, how 100 years alone facing a demon has affected her mental health and, most of all, how everything that happened in Breath of the Wild changed their relationship. Are they together now? Do they have any idea what they are really? Do they just pick up where they left off or do they have to make an active effort to regain that close relationship they had before? I don’t know, but I’m really hoping we find out.

4. Ditch the sheikah slate

Get rid of it. Do it, cowards. Make Link drop it over a ledge in the first 10 minutes or something. Much like the shrines, the sheikah slate was such a fantastic idea and gave you 4 brand new powers to play around with in the massive sandbox world full of puzzles and it was great fun! But again, we know those powers too well now; we know how they work and how they can be exploited when you think outside of the box. What I want is for Nintendo to keep that brilliant creativity when it comes to gameplay mechanics, don’t just give us bombs and an ocarina again, give us something unique to this experience! I mean yeah, they could just give us an updated sheikah slate; a different model perhaps that dates back even further than the original one that has some weird abilities (maybe even a slate that’s somehow been infected with Ganon’s influence, that’d be funky), but my hopes are riding on Nintendo pulling something completely different out of the bag for this one. Making Link lose everything and only be able to use whatever he can salvage in this ancient, evil place is surely going to have a whole host of ideas behind it so I’m curious to see what they can come up with.

5. Embrace the darker tone

This sort of goes without seeing considering what we’ve seen so far, but I really want them to go full in with this darker atmosphere they’ve shown us. I mean, Breath of the Wild was never a ‘light’ game so to speak, but most of the games darker elements were masked by its beautiful landscapes and huge array of colourful characters that made Hyrule feel alive. There hints here and there of a much more macabre side to the realm; destroyed battlefield littered with rusty weapons, old structures covered in Ganon’s malice and the general feeling that Ganon was always watching you from the castle that you can see basically anywhere on the map. I want them to take that mild dread they instilled and turn it up to eleven. And one way that can be accentuated is through the plot. For example, we know a fair amount about the Sheikah tribe at this point, but what if there’s a side that was never explored? What if there’s a much more sinister reason why the Sheikah tribe were suddenly shunned by the royal family all those years ago? Or maybe the Sheikah found something under the castle as well as the divine beasts that they left buried down there and hoped no one would ever find it. Oh, and I’ve heard a theory that Calamity Ganon was just a puppet of the real Ganondorf, who was hiding underneath the castle all this time, which is absolutely terrifying if you consider what the puppet managed to achieve on its own. Not just plot stuff like this, but the music (keep that ambient style they went for before that knows when to amp it up and make it epic, but with a creepier vibe to match the tone of the world), the visuals, the sounds you hear while exploring. Nintendo need to make it clear that we aren’t in Kansas anymore; no more soft piano melodies while riding through beautiful valleys on my horse, make it spooky!! Unsettling, distorted notes playing through dark, twisted woods with trees gnarling into each other and shiny eyes peeking out at you from the canopy. Or something. Who knows, I just wanna be spooked.

6. A much fuller story

One of the main criticisms I always hear for this game is its lack of story content, which I suppose is true to an extent. But I don’t think this let the game down at all really. The game was far less linear than previous titles, so it makes sense that the story they were telling was much more general, but I don’t think this kind of approach would fit as well in its sequel. Nintendo told us just enough in Breath of the Wild to keep us guessing; we were introduced to this particular version of Hyrule, its inhabitants and what Ganon’s up to etc. But they’ve deliberately been extremely vague on what could possibly be explored in a sequel, as well as where/if these two games even fit into the overall Zelda timeline. They deliberately lifted focus off the narrative to make the world and how you traverse it the central point of your adventure. But now that they seem to be plunging us into a much darker world and have given us so many unanswered questions, I reckon its time to dial the narrative back up and give us a bit more of a beefy story to go with our hell exploring.

7. Change in characters

Slightly vague subtitle, but here’s what I mean. As I mentioned beforehand, Breath of the Wild is full of colourful characters that populate the towns as well as the general landscapes, from merchants to adventurers and shield-surfers to Beedle (I love Beedle). And for the most part, these characters all want to help you along on your journey by giving you helpful advice or sending you off on quests to find more shrines. And while I’m not saying this sequel should do away with all helpful NPCs, I do think there should be fewer of them. When designing new towns and settlements, they could give us the odd helpful citizen here and there, but for the most part, how would the inhabitants of this forgotten underground place treat Link? I think it would add to the atmosphere really well by having some of the characters that populate the world deliberately unnerve Link when giving him advice or telling him something helpful and then mocking him at how ineffectual he is at completing his quest. Or if they really want to go a bit overboard, they could even have occasional encounters where talking to the wrong NPCs can end in a random fight, in the same vein as the disguised Yiga in Breath of the Wild. But of course, you don’t want to only populate a world with characters that hate you (that’s what MediEvil is for), so some form of guide would maybe be a welcome addition. If not Zelda (I would definitely welcome the idea of her being along for the ride, though I fear it would take away some of the nerves if you have Zelda as an anchor of familiarity), then perhaps the ghost of a Sheikah from thousands of years past that never agreed with what his tribe were doing or was responsible for something in his life that he now deeply regrets and he can’t pass on until Link helps to finally defeat the real Ganon. Who knows what they’ll do with the characters, but as long as they leave Navi and Tatl back on the N64, pretty much anything will do me.

8. Keep the stamina wheel

As much as I’ve bleated on about everything I want them to change or add in, this is something I most definitely want them to keep. The core gameplay, while I can’t imagine them really changing it, is integral to the sandbox world they created. Having Link be able to sprint, jump, climb up literally anything is what gave players such a sense of freedom; being given this whole massive world to explore and being able to access absolutely all of it. And while I’ve talked a lot about how much I’d like this sequel’s tone and approach to narrative and a bunch of other things to change, this game absolutely needs to keep the same sense of unabashed freedom we had in the first game. And the most integral part of that freedom was the stamina wheel. Short segment I know, but that’s all I really had to say on that one. Let me climb things, Nintendo.

9. Switch up the monsters

In Breath of the Wild, there was an excellent balance of amazing new designs for old favourite monsters, as well as a whole host of new ones (the guardians and the moldugas getting a special mention here). But I reckon what this sequel needs is some brand new monsters to add to the pile; a larger variety of monsters to encounter out in the wilderness would enrich this new darker world we could be exploring to no end. Also, while I really loved all the main story bosses in BotW, I feel as if a larger design variety of story bosses would benefit this sequel. Imagine the potential for whatever ancient monsters are down under the castle to give Link a hard time and what kind of an epic fight is Ganondorf going to put up when we finally get there?? Just as a little idea to throw out there, maybe undead Sheikah will make an appearance as an enemy, woken from the dead and forced into Ganon’s service after being infected by malice. And hey, the Yiga Clan never really got full closure! Yeah Link gets rid of their leader, but the Clan is very much still alive and kicking by the time of Calamity Ganon’s death, so perhaps they’ll play a central role once again now that Ganondorf seems to have come back into the picture. What would make the Yiga even more menacing is if this were their plan all along; knowing that Link very well could defeat Calamity Ganon and then, after retaking the castle, be drawn underground to free the real culprit. Nobody knows what direction Nintendo are going to take with any of this, other than ‘it’ll probably be kinda spooky’, but I am way too excited to find out.

Got any cool ideas or theories of your own? Anything you want them to add or take away in this sequel? Drop it down below in the comments! I’d be v interested to hear if you have anything to add. Thanks for reading and let’s hope the wait isn’t too painful!

[lonelypond]

Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 1

NozoEli, Love Live, 2.5K, 1/?

Summary: Ayase Eli has a slightly less thoroughly organized LA life than just a few weeks ago, a part time job, college bff, Yazawa Nico, for a housemate, a once a month case of serious bed head, and a new dance project to distract her from a certain fortuneteller Eli has recently befriended. Nico, meanwhile, is text flirting with Nishikino Maki, aka DJ Diamond Princess, who can't seem to keep herself in LA. And a few new players enter the scene. The sequel to Moonlight Becomes You.

Change Will Come

Nozomi Tojo had been spending more time here, at her favorite bookstore, a smaller shop than hers even, off an alley she wasn’t sure how she’d found the first time. It was a cosy aesthetic, a little cluttered but still giving off a sense of sparseness, of spaces you could expand in to as you considered what the day had brought to you. And no Russian spices drifted in. The prickly kind Hanamaru Kunikida and her partner, Yohane, had set up a nook for Nozomi in the very back, there was even a very ancient Japanese screen Yohane swore she knew the noblewoman who’d originally sat behind it for days when Nozomi wanted no prying eyes. Today, Nozomi was at a more central table, frowning over her cards, she could feel herself biting the inside of her lip whenever she put down the mug of tea. The central card in this three card spread had stayed her hand, flipped her stomach. Death. Nozomi was too experienced for the rookie mistake of letting the Death card make her fear for her mortality, but she was too too aware that it was a glaring neon sign, especially in the central, present spot that change, capital C Change, major LIFE CHANGE™ was on the Cosmic menu. Add in the reversed quality and there was the screaming sense that Nozomi was avoiding something. With The Chariot bold to the left of it, one might venture a guess that Nozomi was avoiding someone charismatic, determined. The Four of Cups nudged Nozomi to reach out for an opportunity. Nozomi groaned and lowered her head to the table.

“Nozomi-chan?” Hanamaru’s soft voice drifted through the incense and Nozomi felt the swoosh of a fallen angel swooping in to eavesdrop on her reading.

“She’s avoiding something, Zuramaru. The Death card is flipping her off and the Four of Cups is calling her out for low self esteem.” A deep voice echoed around Nozomi, who refused to raise her head. “Has she met someone recently?” A huge intake, and then the deep voice screeched into a higher register, “Is that why you’ve practically moved in? Who is she?” Another voice switch, “The Fallen Angel Yohane will cast her net into the abyss and pull forth a lantern to shine and show her fellow wanderer of Destiny the path forward.”

Nozomi heard Hanamaru tickle her lover, who squeaked, and flumped down onto the pillow next to Nozomi while Hanamaru sat less dramatically on Nozomi’s other side.

“Nozomi-chan…” Hanamaru wheedled. One of the reasons Nozomi felt so comfortable here is that Hanamaru had also grown up in Japan, Nozomi just wasn’t sure which era, and refused to give up her vocal tics, even when she spoke mostly fluent English.

“Her name is Eli.” Nozomi felt Yoshiko sit up next to her with a hiss of breath, but Nozomi managed to grab the Fallen Angel’s hand before she touched Nozomi’s cards, Nozomi raised her head, smiling at both her friends. Hanamaru was in a floral skirt and soft fuzzy tan sweater that complemented her eyes, fair hair framing her face. Yoshiko was in a leather jacket, sugar skull splashed across a black tank top, and torn jeans, midnight hair in a bun. “Use your own, devil.”

Yoshiko grumbled, looking to Hanamaru for support, but the fair haired maiden just shrugged. Yoshiko hung her head for a minute, but when she raised it, her violet eyes were aflame with inspiration. She grabbed Nozomi’s tea cup before Nozomi could react, swallowed the rest of the tea, turned the cup three times while humming complacently and then slammed the cup dramatically back on the table. When it finished rocking, unbroken, Yoshiko inched forward to peer inside.

“Is it a bomb?” Nozomi giggled.

“A blonde.” Yoshiko muttered. Nozomi froze.

Yoshiko leapt to her feet, throwing both hands up, “The Great Yohane has called forth success in love as great as her own for her…” she looked sideways at Nozomi, who frowned with the slightest shake of her head, “her great and wise friend, Nozomi, washed up from the far reaches of the East on this Western shore. If, “And here Yoshiko flopped next to Nozomi, head on Nozomi’s shoulders, “she’ll stop hiding in the back of her best friend’s store.”

“Oh.” Nozomi mouth matched her choice of word.

“Yoshiko-chan is very wise tod…”

“Yohane…”

Hanamaru leaned over to kiss her lover on the cheek, “Thank you, Yoshiko-chan.”

Yoshiko blushed, and pushed away from the table, “I’ve got a meeting tonight. I’ll see you later, Zuramaru?”

“Looking forward to it,” Hanamaru managed an endearing and unique blend of cheeky and cheering whenever Yoshiko needed push.

“Meeting?” Nozomi asked as the door chimes played Yoshiko out.

Hanamaru froze, hand on the teapot. Nozomi became instantly suspicious, “Maru-chan?”

Hananamaru blew out a long breath, her eyelashes blinking wildly, “You know how Yoshiko…”

“Yohane” Nozomi deepened her voice and Hanamaru flinched, then scowled, her nose crinkling up. Once again, adorable.

“Is interested in cryptids?”

Nozomi nodded.

“There’s a reading group. Sometimes, they meet here, but mostly they meet…” Hanamaru paused, “somewhere else.”

Nozomi couldn’t help it, the huge laughs just rolled out of her, while Hanamaru watched curiously and mildly concerned. When Nozomi came up for air, she smirked at her friend, “You, Kunikada Hanamaru, are a worse liar than that grounded Fallen Angel you call your girlfriend.”

Hanaamaru’s eyes were blanks as she replayed Yoshiko’s latest pronouncement, “Displaced Celestial Being. Yohane is rebranding.”

Nozomi still had a chuckle left, “Oh, that’s a good one.”

Hanamaru passed a hand over Nozomi’s cards, “If you actually stopped avoiding this Eli, maybe I could be laughing at your girlfriend.”

“Oh, so you want revenge, ZURAmaru.” Nozomi leaned in with a leer.

Hanamaru turned away, her profile scorn, her eyes saucy, “You know Yoshiko doesn’t like it when you call me that. And yes.”

Nozomi gathered her cards, “I’ll put that on the pro side of the list.”

“Nozomi....” Hanamaru’s tone matched the message from the cards in severity. “You know ignoring answers is throwing kindness back in the face of the gods.”

“Ah, Hanamaru, but…” Nozomi searched for the right word.

“Fearing.” Hanamaru dove in.

Nozomi countered, “hesitating in the face of change is so deeply human that surely the gods will be patient with me.”

Hanamaru stood, “Gods may be patient, girls not so much.”

Nozomi knew Yoshiko and Hanamaru could be trusted to speak the uncomfortable truths. She leaned back, remembering Eli’s bright blue eyes and wondering what they were looking at now.

###

Nico Yazawa was lying on their couch, her green, avocado based beauty treatment slathered all over her face. She had her cellphone raised and was snapping a selfie.

“We are not getting Russian food again. Nico loves you, but…” Nico sighed as she hit send, “But Nico misses the honey mustard drizzle over a LIGHT salad from Muskies. Just send the fortune teller a text and ask HER out for heavy Russian food.”

Eli frowned, fidgeting with the edge of the couch cushion. “Have you asked out the feral DJ who hates me yet?”

“Maki” Nico drawled, “is currently out of the country, in Toronto, with K Pop stars hanging off her arms. So Nico is waiting to ask in person. And sending selfies.”

Eli sat up from the other side of the couch, ripping Nico’s phone out of her hand and reading her last message:

“Hey, Ripped and REDonkulous, stop by Nico’s when you get back into the country.” And there was Nico’s green goop coated face, tongue sticking out, eyes wide and twinkling.

“You really did send a pic of you in that slop.”

Nico rolled her eyes and grabbed her phone back, “Nico always looks good. And Maki appreciates honesty. None of the K Pop stars will let her see an eyeliner smear, let alone the night before look.”

Maki’s ringtone went off.

“What did she say?” Eli was genuinely curious. Nico and Maki’s courtship was outside the boundaries of anything Eli considered a lead up to dating, but Nico seemed pretty calm and happy about her situation, unless Maki had posted a pic from gig recently.

“Are you auditioning for a zombie flick?” Nico almost flinched. No one but Eli would have noticed. Nico tossed her phone to the side, “So why won’t you text Nozomi?”

“What do I say?”

“Hi, remember me, we agreed to be friends because I’m too much of a coward to ask you on a date.”

Eli reached behind her to grab a pillow and toss it at Nico, “I’m not a coward…” Eli’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Things are just weird right now. And I have a lot going on besides the...”

Nico leaned forward, using the pillow to prop her elbows on, “Ask her when she’s in, go have tea, let her read your future, and talk, Eli.” Nico tilted her head, almost smiling at her phone, “Even if they don’t say much, it’s still nice to have someone open your text, you know.”

Eli sighed, laid back down, her long legs stretching out next to Nico’s shorter ones, “Yeah.”

Nico watched her best friend, not hiding the sadness she knew was weighting her gaze. Eli wasn’t paying attention to her anymore, staring at the ceiling, thoughts elsewhere and Nico wished she had something comforting or constructive to say. And then her notifications pinged. Diamond Princess had posted a TWIG shot from tonight’s gig and there were five girls in skin tight clothing stretched out across her rig, mugging for her camera. Nico had problems too, even without monthly fur outbreaks.

###

You Watanabe’s least favorite thing about her job as the Coast Guard’s LAPD liaison was that she rarely got to wear her uniform. Too often she needed to slip under the radar, or pass as a someone out boating, or just be able to wander without her clothes or posture screaming “COP.” So she slouched, tried to bring back hacky sack, and switched her uniform hat for a dad cap. Of course, the friend she was meeting had it worse; at least You didn’t have to keep a pair of wings on the very low down low. Yoshiko, You had known her for a long time, most of them late nights in dark places, so Yoshiko allowed You to call her by her human name. These were human streets and it helped Yoshiko keep a barrier between these meetings and those with the more than mortal. You understood that, she too swam between two worlds, land and sea, footed and finned.

Yoshiko was whistling as she approached; You didn’t even have to turn, Yoshiko just settled a couple feet down the pier, leaning back against the railing, hands in the pocket of her leather jacket. No gang insignia on the back, just a pair of black glittery wings and Gothic graffiti reading “Dodged the Sun; Kicked the Moon.” You once again found herself taking a moment to appreciate how carved out of breathless glory Yoshiko looked when she forgot to dim the glamour. Then You stomped on her own foot and muttered, “friend, dating another friend, don’t go there.”

Yoshiko looked straight up, stretching her throat, then tilted her head to flutter eyelashes at her rendezvous mate, You was just glad the Fallen Angel wasn’t looking directly into the sun. That was always disconcerting.

“What’s up, Captain? What dark horrors can Yohane assist you in sealing away in the pit? ” Yoshiko sounded amused under the flare of drama, but whether she was reading You’s face or thoughts with those piercing purple eyes didn’t matter. You had been born an open book where women were concerned.

“The usual.” You chuckled, but her blue eyes flashed fierce. “Rumors. Bots. Trolls. Closed Facebook groups. TWIG hashtags. Social media chaos starting to spread, viral werewolves who transmit lycanthropy via saliva, mermaids drowning swimmers, wildfires being started by mutant Trinity Alps salamanders who breathe fire.” You hung her head, hands behind her neck, sighing, “It’s a flood.”

Yoshiko frowned. Hanamaru was pretty internet allergic, so Yohane spent maybe ninety minutes a day on the basics, on her phone, mostly responding to messages. She’d found it best to keep a low profile. It was too easy to feed the glamour greed; to start to crave the crowds, to yearn for the veneration. Hanamaru had pulled her back from that summit once; Yoshiko had kept herself grounded since then, helping others, in this world too modern and cynical to promote new gods to more than temporary power.

You continued, “Patterns seem to indicate local actors, a cell recently set up somewhere. There’s too many details and specific targets identified.” You took a piece of paper out of her pocket, “I think you’ll recognize some of the names.”

Yoshiko read quickly and then with a snap of her fingers and a spark the paper was gone, “I’ll warn them.” Yoshiko turned so she was facing You, “But what do I tell them?”

“The same thing I’m telling you.” Yoshiko’s name had been the first on that list, “Keep a low profile. Be wary of new people. And don’t have any more meetings at the bookstore, you goof.”

Yoshiko sighed, “Zuramaru will be sad; she likes making everyone cookies.”

“She can still make the cookies.” You was still not used to domestic Yohane, so concerned about the very prosaic activities of her partner.

“Oh that reminds me.” Yoshiko pulled a wrapped square out of one pocket, “She made you Orange Carrot Cookies. Says you need to fatten up.”

“Too busy burning off calories.” You’s best friend was the pool at her condo. Laps and lounging made her less likely to find leisure making her lonely. “Tell Hanamaru I appreciate the home baking. Does a sailor’s heart good.”

Yoshiko snorted, “Try that line on someone single, not MY wife, who’s waiting for ME.”

“Wife? You did it?” You's voice went shrill with surprise, carrying over the water.

Yoshiko startled, “Never mind that. Don’t tell Zuramaru I said….just…” Yoshiko closed her eyes, once again carved out of some substance more striking than flesh, her voice resonant with ancient echoes. “I gave up everything for her. And realized it had been nothing at all.” Yoshiko stood tall, grace in her smile as her voice softened.“Find you someone like that, my friend.”

“If only.” You pushed herself off the pier rail. “Take care of yourself. Tell Hanamaru I’ll stop by for dinner soon.”

“Good.” Yoshiko giggled, “You look hungry.”

“Or something…” You thought to herself as she waved Yoshiko off and turned to watch the sun drop into the iridescent sea.

A/N: I've been working on this for awhile, on and off. Turns out I miss writing a werewolf AU while spending my summer Shakespeare-ing. And I haven't really had the chance to write anything complicated with Aqours and I've been wanting to. So here we are. Enjoy!

[senor-plume]

Reunion

   Henry throws on his favorite shirt, a concert tee that he got at an Arlo Guthrie concert some years back. Pulling the shirt over his head, he eyes the bottle of ale that sits on the kitchen table. Reaching out with his left hand he grabs the bottle and takes a long pull from it. Friday night and not a thing going on. Luckily.     With the drink in his hand he walks over to the living room window and takes a peak at the great outdoors. Folks arriving for a CYO event at the school across the street. Looks like a basketball game as he spies on the young girls showing up in their cheerleader outfits. Some adults walking in and a young man about 20 has his head stuck into his cell phone, texting as he moves straight ahead. Henry closes the curtain tight and walks away quite glad that he is not playing a game of basketball tonight. As much as he complains about the loneliness of his life, he has adapted to it and some nights, such as tonight, he is glad for his solitude lifestyle.      The television is on but thankfully muted while the record player spins the vinyl album around at 33 and a third. A collector of sorts, he stops and stares at his records. A massive amount that must be well into the thousands. His father started him out young to the pleasures of music and he never looked back. His dad left him his old records from the 40's to the 70's when he passed away. Alphabetized, he goes down to one knee to look through the Z's. Pulling out Frank Zappa's first album he takes the record from its sleeve and stares at the grooves that the needle reads. Henry can, and will spend hours now gazing at his collection with pride bursting up through his soul. Nothing can or will make him as happy as rummaging through these records and trips to the Salvation Army for more is his true joy in life.      Stopping only to gather up a plate of nacho's and a few beers, Henry has just spent the complete Friday night alone with his records. He plans to leave the house tomorrow morning for a trip to the local hotel where a huge record sale will be going down. Once a month there is a gathering of all types of venders selling off their albums and other music related items. Henry looks forward to this with unbridled glee. He takes to the computer and after seeing there was not one email waiting for him he begins to compile a list of albums that he must have and hopefully he will be able to find them there. Some records he just never stops looking for. Years and years he has waited for somebody to sell them off. A Beatles record nicknamed the Butcher Album due to the cover showing the Fab Four dressed as butchers covered in raw meat and doll parts. A true and rare collector's item. He saw one once when he was visiting his sister in California. He had it in his hands and as he always does, he smelled the inside of the cover. There really is nothing finer than the scent of an old record Henry believed. The asking price for the album was a hefty 1000 bucks which he did not have at the time. He has saved up for the day it would appear to him again. He would not miss out on it twice.     With the need to take a piss Henry, drunk now, as he always is on the weekends, stumbles to the bathroom. Holding on for dear life he lets out a long sigh and out of the blue the telephone rings. He usually unplugs the fucking thing on the weekends but he must have forgotten.  The answering machine pick up. It is a woman's voice and it is unfamiliar. Without washing his hands, Henry walks to the bedroom to hear the voice say goodbye and then the tape rewinds. Who the fuck could that be? Henry presses play and he listens in carefully.   "I'm looking for Henry Coda. If this is the wrong number I apologize but I really want to find him. This is Anna Baez. I went to school with Henry back in the 80's and I would like to invite him to our schools 25th anniversary. It's this upcoming weekend…seven days from now and it will be a ball. So Henry, please if you could join us at the school at 7 in the gymnasium… I would be thrilled to see you again. We all would. It will be a blast. I hope this is the right number. Call me at 722-5733 to let me know if you can come. Thanks and goodbye."     Christ. Anna Baez. Henry takes a long drink from the bottle…killing it and he heads to the bookshelf to pull out his senior yearbook. The cover says Binghamton Central High School. It has been years since he has looked at this thing. He takes a seat on his bed and opens the book. He flips through the pages with a bored look on his face until he comes to the page he wants. Under his nose is a picture of Anna. A blonde beauty that was quite popular in school. Unlike Henry she excelled in school, running for class president and winning. A cheerleader and if he remembered correctly, she was crowned prom queen…a prom in which Henry did not attend. His book was signed a few times and he reads a few. "Have a great summer Henry…see you at the college." "Henry, keep playing that guitar and I am certain you'll be top of the pops in no time." "You are one weird fellow man. Don't change."    Henry never ended up going to the local community college and he never made it to the top of the charts. He was still weird and he has barely changed since the 80's. He closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. He remained on the bed thinking of school. How he hated it and most of the kids there…except for one girl…Nancy…or Nan for short. Nan, he had the biggest teenage crush on. She was always friendly with him but she was dating the same guy from their freshman year right up to the senior year. They were friends…she was kind to him and although her boyfriend hated him she didn't care. She was nice. Rising from the bed he began to think about her. Nan, I wonder if you are even still alive and if you are I bet you have fourteen kids and a beefcake husband. He wandered out of his room and made it to the kitchen to grab a fresh beer. Cracking it open he heard the needle hit the label on the record he was playing and he knew it was time to flip it over.    Playing the Stones now he could not get his mind off of that girl. Nan. Henry hardly left his house for any kind of social event. Skipping family reunions and the like. But this…this could be…interesting. He wanted to see Nan and that was the only thing that made him pick up the phone to call Anna back.     She answered right away and sounded genuinely pleased to hear from him. She told him that he was all set. That it was to be a casual party and that he could bring a friend or spouse if he wanted to. Henry asked how many people have signed up to go and she told him that it will be a packed event. "Expect at least a hundred kids to be there. It will be lots of fun. And Henry, feel free to bring some of those records of yours with you. I bet we would all like to hear them." After saying goodbye and hanging up Henry crawled into bed and found himself…drunk and daydreaming about Nan and just what he could say to her. It made him nervous just thinking about it and soon he blocked it out and fell asleep with the full bottle of beer next to his head. ——————————————————————————————–                    After about four beers Henry was ready to leave for the reunion. Dressed in khakis and a seersucker shirt he bent down to tie his shoes when he felt the urge to throw up come over him. He ran to the kitchen sink and made it just in time. Four beers down the drain, all sudsy and wiping tears from his eyes he went to swig some mouthwash around in the bathroom.       Outside now Henry tucked the cuffs of his pants into his socks and jumped onto his bicycle. The school was only a few blocks away and it was a pleasant night. He had no intention of trying to impress anyone there. His bike was fine and he enjoyed riding it more than driving anyway.      Along the way there his nerves grew worse and he checked the time on the side of the bank on the corner. 7:15. He was late and he did not care. He toyed with the idea of not showing…no one would miss him anyway but Nan…he was dying to see what became of her. He stopped his bike in front of the tavern Rocco's and parking his bike on the side of the building. He went in. "Henry! Long time no see my friend. How goes it?" Rocco extended his hand and Henry shook it with a weak smile on his face. "Get me a cold one please Rocco. Lord knows I need one tonight" "What's the big occasion? You got a hot date tonight? If you do, bring her here. I'd love to see the kind of girl you could pick up Henry."       The bartender, a black guy with muscles that would put Schwarzenegger to shame cracked the top off the bottle of Bud and handed it to Henry. He took hold of it and brought it to his mouth and drained half of it in a mere two seconds. His eyes darted around but he found himself slowly calming down. The television above the bar was on showing some soccer match and the jukebox was playing the old Turtles tune.. .'Happy Together.' "Henry, it's been a while, a few days now perhaps since you last walked into my establishment. What's been happening to you? You depressed? Did a fire destroy your record collection or something?" "No. Just been busy is all. Listen Rocco, I need your advice here. I'm now headed to my 25th reunion at school and I am rather nervous about it all. There is a girl there…or a woman now and I really want to talk to her but I am a social dud. I have no idea what to say to her. What's a good ice breaker? Something that won't make me look like a total dick head. Just a little dick head." Rocco smiled and said " Ah Henry, you seeing an old flame tonight? Some girl who used to give you hand jobs in the basement? Something like that eh?" "No…not at all. Just a girl who I was friendly with. Though I have to admit that I dreamed of her and those hands giving me some relief. I don't know. I can't think of what to say to her when I see her. I need your help here."   Rocco pulled up a stool and thought for a while. "What did you guys used to talk about in school? Back then. What did you talk about?" Henry thought for a while and he said `music.' "Ok, then you talk about that. Just say that you heard an old song on the radio and that it made you think of her. She'll be pleased to hear this…hopefully and there you go. You'll be off to the races." "But I never listen to the radio…all those commercials and that terrible hip hop music they play now a days…It gives me a head…" “Then, forget the radio part…just say you heard a song…somewhere… and it made you think of her. Just wing it from there. She'll want to know what song and then you'll be in a real conversation and I bet it will be the first one with a woman for quite some time. Am I right?" Henry sighed and took a drink from the bottle. "Yeah, music, that's kinda what I had planned on anyway." "That's all you ever talk about actually Henry. This is the first conversation we've had that wasn't about music or music related. You must really be nervous." "Yeah, I am. What time is it Rocco?" "7:30." "Shit, I gotta go. Thanks for the help. I appreciate it, man."     Rocco wished him good luck and said that if he gets lucky with the girl to bring her over to the bar so he could see what all this nervousness was all about. Henry killed his beer and slammed the bottle down on the bar with a determined thud. He stood and with a wave left the bar and found his bike waiting for him. He climbed aboard and began his trek to the school. ————————————————-      Inside the gymnasium it was sweltering. He was informed at the front desk, where old Anna Baez was sitting, that the air conditioners were on the fritz and to expect it to be a little warm in there. Warm? It was horrible. Henry went immediately to the bar and ordered a beer. A nice cold beer would really hit the spot and maybe calm his nerves a bit.    Drinking, he looked down to his name tag. Henry. Who the hell is going to remember me anyway? This is a mistake. He had a few friends in high school and they all went to universities and left him in his hometown alone and friendless. Sure, he knew some of the guys and gals at the record conventions but he wouldn't be able to really call them friends. He was a lonely guy who simply loved his records and beer. He looked up and watched all the people milling around and some dancing. A few guys whom he recognized as old jocks were standing at the bar, drinking and laughing, without a care in the world. Henry felt the sweat dripping down his back and he flapped his shirt a few times to get some air in there. His ears pricked up when he heard a Duran Duran song playing and he was just about to head over to the DJ booth to talk to the guy about his CD's when he saw Nan walk in. The light from the gym was weak at best but he knew it was her although he could not read her name tag. My goodness…there she is he thought to himself. I'll just wait for a while to let her mingle with the people that she really wanted to see and then, then he would walk up to her and reintroduce himself to her.        Henry wiped his brow with the back of his hand and struck up a conversation with the DJ. They shot the shit for a few minutes when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Nan smiling ear to ear. "Henry Coda…my God…you look exactly the same. You really do. My goodness…how are you?"       Henry's shirt was sopped with sweat as he opened his mouth to return her greeting when a group of guys walked up to Nan and began to talk excitedly to her. Henry shrunk back to the DJ booth and just stood there watching them enjoying their conversation. I wish I was normal he thought to himself. I wish I could talk and feel carefree with others. Instead I am a sweating fool all alone with social anxiety and a drinking problem. He took a swig from his plastic cup and turned around to stare at the wall.     A few minutes passed while a Van Halen song played. Henry began to recall the time he had bought the album which this song came from when he heard a woman's voice say something. He turned around to see Nan staring at him. "Hello…anyone home? I've been trying to get your attention for a minute now silly. Daydreaming about music I bet. This Van Halen song sure brings back the memories don't you think?" "I was just playing this song a few days ago actually. All in all it's a great album with very little filler. Sure, a few of the songs aren't all that great on it but not many records from that period were masterpieces. You know what I mean?" Nan smiled at him and told him that he has not changed all that much from 25 years ago. Henry smiled and tried hard to think of something to say to her. He decided to ask her about her life now but she spoke first. "So tell me Henry…tell me about your life. Are you married? Is your rock and roll wife around here somewhere?" "Wife? Ha, no…No wife. Never. Never was married. You?" "Well, remember Davey? My boyfriend in school? We married after college and 10 months later we were divorced. Still to this day I have no idea what went wrong but that band of gold on my finger just cursed us. It was something else, I'll tell you, I won't be walking down the aisle again, you can count on that." Henry looked down at her finger and even in the bad light he could see that she was not sporting a wedding ring. "Gee, I'm sorry about that Nan. Geeze…will he be here tonight? Davey?" "No, he moved to Washington State after our divorce was finalized. I haven't seen him in years now. No kids…thank God." "Oh…well that's good I guess…divorce can really be hard on kids; at least that's what I've read in magazines and all. So…you live around here?" Nan answered his questions and boy was there a lot of them. Henry at times felt like he was interviewing the poor girl but he really had nothing else to say to her so he asked questions. Query after query but she didn't seem to mind at all. They talked for a while when he realized he was in dire need of a drink. He tried to back step a bit to get closer to the bar hoping that she would follow him…slowly but two steps back into his plan she stood right there, not moving an inch. He would have to ask her if she would like a refill on her wine…or what appeared to be wine. Maybe it was punch. It was red and that was all he could tell. In a break in the conversation he asked her if she would like a refill and that he could really go for a cold beer in this stifling heat. "I know! It's so hot in here…I can't stand it. Want to go outside for a bit? I could use some fresh air and besides…and don't tell anyone but I am dying for a cigarette." "Outside? Certainly. I'd like that. I'm beginning to melt in here. Please just let me refill my beer here. Can you wait?" She nodded her head and Henry went to get a beer. Turning to Nan he asked her if she was good. She replied that another cup of wine would be great and she handed him her now empty cup. "…A nice cold Michelob and a wine please Jerry."    The bartender filled up the two glasses and they headed outside. On the way to the front doors Nan was greeted with many hellos. Henry couldn't remember her being so popular in school. It was mighty crowded and Nan grabbed his arm and pulled him along and he was happy to be lead away out of there. Outside the cool air was a Godsend. They both needed the cool night air on their hot skin. "Now this is much better, don't you think Henry? So, tell me now…back in school you loved music more than anyone I've ever known. You ever made a career of it? You in a band or anything?" He felt like he was letting her down as he went on to say that not only was he not in a band but that as a career he chose media marketing. "What exactly is that Henry?" "You know those jingles you hear on the radio? I write them. I make commercials for the radio and television." "Oh my, how interesting…anything I would know?" "You know Champs Fried Chicken? The chain of chicken places? Well that one ad..the one that goes:

`Champs…is the place to be when your down and hungry, a dollar 99 is all you got? you'll dig our chicken, you'll dig it a lot.'

I wrote that." "Holy shit Henry, I know that song! It's the catchiest tune like ever! Wow…I'm with a celebrity here!" "Ha…well…it pays the bills. It's not going to get me a gold record but I suppose I can't complain." "Well, I think it's awesome…simply awesome Henry. I'm not as famous as you but I guess my job is ok…I sell real estate in North Carolina. I'm not rich or anything but like you, I can pay the bills."     Henry found himself relaxing a bit. The cool night air did him well and he found that he could keep up his end of the conversation. He went in a few times to refill their drinks. He was feeling alright by the time of his 7th beer of the night and Nan was really knocking the wine back. They talked about many things and a few people even recognized him as they made their way out of the gym to return home.    Around the time of Nan's fifth cup of wine she realized that the party inside was dying down. "I should really go back inside and mingle a bit more. You wanna come along with me? There has to be other people you want to see besides me." "Not really, Nan…in fact the only reason why I came to this high school heat wave was to see you. You were always so nice to me…don't think I've forgotten it these many years later." "Oh Henry, that's so nice of you to say. Shoot…I should go back though. You sure you don't want to come with me? I'll buy you another drink." Henry thought about it and decided not to go in. "I'm sorry Nan but it's really too hot for me in there. I'm going to head to Rocco's for a nice air conditioned beer." "Sounds splendid. Ok…I understand. "It was nice to see you again Nan…really. Take care now." "I will. Thanks for visiting with me. I had a ball. Enjoy Rocco's" And with that they hugged each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

      Around 1AM Rocco was placing the chairs up on the tables when there was a knock at his front door. He checked the time on his wrist and went to tell them he was closed. Through the door he saw a woman standing there. "I'm sorry Ma'am but I'm closed now. I open at 9 if you still need a drink in the morning." The girl was swaying a bit but managed to steady herself. "Is Henry there? Henry Coda? I'm a friend of his." Rocco opened the door and told her that she just missed him. "He left about 10 minutes ago. You don't happen to be Nan are you?" "Yes..why?" "Oh boy was he going on and on about you. You made quite the impression on him tonight. He usually only talks about music but not tonight. It was Nan this and Nan that. Sorry you missed him." "Yeah, me too. Please tell him I stopped by ok?" "I will. Goodnight." And with that she turned away and headed back to her waiting taxi. “Thanks for waiting. Please take me to the Serling Hotel.”   The driver nodded and turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the tavern.  Nan, drunk… rummages through her purse as the taxi speeds through the early morning darkness as the car radio plays an REM song and Nan smiles to herself as she zips up her bag and quietly sings along to the tune as it plays.    

[thesffcorner]

John Wick: Chapter 2

John Wick: Chapter 2, is as the title suggests the follow up to the surprisingly successful 2014 John Wick. It’s an action film starring Keanu Reeves  in the titular role, as a former enforcer for the Russian mafia. Following the events of the first film, Wick is forced back out of retirement by Santino D’Antonio (Riccardo Scamarcio), who gives him a marker to kill his sister, Gianna D’Antonio (Claudia Gerini).

I really like the first John Wick film; it’s a stylized and relentless action film, with some impressive action scenes and Reeves playing what he’s become known for; a sad, martial artist master on a path of vengeance. What intrigued a lot of people, me included were the hints of the wider world: the Continental, the High Table, the medallions. John Wick effectively set up this world of shadowy mafia and assassins in the background of a simple revenge story, and it was inevitable that we’d get a sequel that would expand on it.

Chapter 2, does exactly that: after being more or less blackmailed by D’Antonio to leave retirement once again, John travels to Rome, where we get to see their version of the Continental, this one complete with a tailor, a ‘sommelier’ and a ‘historian’, all of which help John plan the hit on Gianna. I liked that though the background world is more prominent here, and we get to see more of how things function, it was still firmly part of the setting. There are no long expository scenes where we are sat down and told what markers are, how the High Table works, who runs what part of New York, or even who the main players are; we are simply shown things and left to derive our conclusions based on that.

The closest thing we get to exposition is actually a really dumb scene where Winston reminds John that the High Table has 2 rules: never do business of Continental grounds, and each marker must be respected, which was just bizarre to me that he needed to say that to John at all. John lived in this life for years before he got married; surely he would already know this?

The wider world did have a few scenes where I was just scratching my head in how all this worked. There’s a scene where Winston shows John how powerful he is by giving him 1 hour before he’s declared excommunicado, and literary EVERY PERSON in Central Park is in on it. What kind of world is this? Is everyone an assassin?  Who pays for this shit?

The other thing that I just didn’t understand was why D’Antonio specifically wanted Wick to kill Gianna? John explains that no one can get near her, but it’s actually incredibly easy to get to her? Like no one notices John, no one gets close to him, he has no issues getting close to Gianna at all. Anyone could’ve done that hit, hell I’ve had more difficult missions in Hitman! Santino would have fared easier if he’d just paid any random schmuck 20$, and that kid would’ve probably had an easier time going in and out, seeing as the only reason John gets caught in the first place, is because he’s literally THE MOST RECOGNIZABLE ASSASSIN EVER.

Like the first film, the action scenes here are brutal, well choreographed and shot, and very fun. The filmmakers have a lot of creative ways for John to kill his opponents, and especially the opening chase/fight scene where he goes after his car was very cool. There’s also a fight with Cassian (Common) on the C train which was very fun, and if you are in this film just for the action, it delivers.

In terms of acting, there are a lot of recognizable faces in the film, but I find the characters were all less developed and less interesting than the first film. I think David Leitch’s departure is felt here most acutely in this department, because the first film succeeded in characterizing and hinting at interesting characters with very little dialogue and screen time.

In the first film, I had a very good grip on all the characters and their personalities; even the really minor supporting cast like Charon, or Winston, or Aurelio had something to do, and something that made them feel distinct.

Here, not so much. The returning cast is mostly wasted; Winston, Charon, and Aurelio have nothing to do, and mostly return to remind us that this is indeed, set in the same universe. Common is good as Cassian, and he even manages to score some points by selling the brief scenes he has with John and Gianna, especially as he manages to hint at a more personal reason for wanting to kill John, not just because Gianna was his boss.

Gianna and Santino fare less well; Gianna has one scene, that does manage to characterize her as a bitch, so that was nice I guess, but her decision to go out the way she choses was kind of ridiculous.

Santino was appropriately hateful, though he brings the homoerotic tension to full blast here, especially in a really weird scene where he asks John how John fantasizes about killing him. Like Alfie Allen’s Iosef, he ends up being wasted, the film hinting at more, but never delivering with his character.

Ruby Rose gets the worst end of the stick. Not only is her character mute for no reason, she spends the whole film stalking John and doing absolutely nothing. She gets a single fight scene at the end, and it’s very short and underwhelming; I really hoped she’d be a bigger threat to John, but instead she’s taken out in a single stab, which makes me wonder why the movie spent so much time establishing her presence.

The only character who escapes this is Laurence Fishburne. The scene between him and John was hilarious, and I felt like I was watching Neo and Morpheus reconvene 10 years after the Matrix.

Overall, some aspects of the film I liked more, and some less. While the action was appropriately bigger and more creative, the characters left a lot to be desired, and the really dumb decision making on the villains’ part to get John involved was more than a little irritating. I still think it’s worth watching, but it’s not a classic like the first for a reason.

[zarekthelordofthefries]

Any tips for putting together a Monster Of The Week game? I'm making a campaign and haven't ever played before 😅

Oh, sure! Some of this might be kind of basic stuff that you might’ve covered already but since I don’t know where you’re at in the process yet I’ll try to give some general starting stuff advice. (From your phrasing I’m gonna assume you’re the GM for this.) (Also, uh, some of this got kind of long-winded, but mostly it’s stuff I feel is really important)

Initial thing to consider: Have you played a Powered By The Apocalypse game like MotW before? If not, it’s important to get into the right headspace for it, especially if you’re coming into it off of playing another game, like D&D. D&D and MotW have pretty different design philosophies. Getting into things like “You as the GM don’t plan scenes, you plan a situation” and “You literally never roll, only the players do, you just make your moves” – or hell, the entire concept of GM moves – can be difficult to grasp if you’re like most roleplayers and are coming off a background primarily of D&D, where the GM plans dungeon setpieces and is encouraged to make a ton of rolls and doesn’t really have a system of responding to players’ roll failures in the way GM moves function. I don’t really have any particular advice for this, it’s just kind of a mental unlearning-relearning process anyone has to go through when they pick up a new game. But again, I don’t know your gaming background – you might’ve already cleared this step, it’s just something to keep in mind!

So, I think an important early step in ANY game is having an in-depth conversation with your group about what you want to get out of the game. In fact, I would say the most important early thing in MotW, moreso than the players picking their playbooks, is to have a group discussion of what style of game you want. MotW supports several styles of play that can give you very different-feeling games. You can use MotW to play Supernatural, Buffy, The X-Files, Scooby-Doo, The Dresden Files, or something in between two or more of those – and it’s not gonna be fun if you start playing what you want to be Supernatural and the players want to be Buffy. Talk to your players about tone first and foremost – do you, as a group, prefer something very silly (Scooby-Doo), something grim and brutal (Supernatural), or something in the middle (Buffy)? The MOST IMPORTANT part of this is talking to your players about boundaries. MotW is an action-horror game, and horror comes in many forms that can be touchy for some folks. Talk about what might or might not be comfortable for everyone at the table when it comes to serious subjects that might come up in the game.

Another aspect of that early discussion, less important than boundary-setting but definitely important for the type of story you want to build together, is what kind of setting and style you want for the game. I think it can be useful to establish early on what ties the player characters together. It could just be a location, maybe all the characters just happen to live together in the same weird monster-heavy town and happen to work together, but it can be stabilizing to have something more concrete. The book goes over some of these ideas (I believe it mentions the idea of belonging to the same organization investigating monsters or all the player characters being family members). An important aspect of this is also deciding whether you want the game to be mobile, with the PC hunters traveling from location to location to deal with monsters (this is, funnily enough, both Scooby-Doo and Supernatural style), or centralized in one location with repeated monster attacks (this is more Buffy style). I technically only have direct experience with the latter, but I think both require roughly the same investment on your part, just in different ways (you don’t have to map out every town you go to every session in a mobile game, but you may want to sketch out a map of town in an immobile game, or just use an existing real town and see if you can find a map online – rule 1 of GMing is knowing when and what to steal!).

I think this initial conversation may be more important than playbook-picks, but it shouldn’t be a huge deal if your players already have an idea of what they want to play, as long as you make sure to get on the same page re: tone and style. Additionally, I assume you’re using the updated ruleset from the revised edition of the game, but I’d advise you to check out the old MotW site and its free downloads of other classes that didn’t get added to the revised edition: Here. You’re not obligated to allow any playbooks in particular in the game, of course, but I’d at least say check ‘em out and if you think they work for you, let your players see them too. (You might be discouraged from some of them by tone, and that’s totally fair, some of them are definitely built for sillier games, but keep in mind that can be changed by the right player. My group has both a Luchador and a Meddling Kid that are really human, multidimensional characters, so if that’s what you want and it’s what your players want to do with them, that can work. Of course, if you want cartoon characters, they’re also very good classes for playing cartoon characters.)

As for, y’know, playing the actual game, I would advise you to avoid my mistakes and try to really follow the book’s advice when it comes to early mysteries. Try to make fairly simple, straightforward hunts at first before you start getting complex or esoteric. If you’re like me you might get excited to try to mess with the formula before you even establish a formula for your players, and in a game you’re new to, that can be overly ambitious. (Although you can, of course, get really creative within the formula. Just look at the two example mysteries in the book – in their STRUCTURE they’re very standard, one big monster with a handful of minions that the players have to find a kill, but with radically different styles.)

Remember you aren’t making scenes for your players to run through, you’re making a situation with many dangers (not just the monsters – remember locations and NPCs are dangers, too!) and a ticking clock that the players have to figure out their own clever ways to overcome. It’s their job to be proactive and your job to put things in their way, but let them shove the things out of their way if they figure out how. (Also keep in mind the players can always prevent things on the countdown clock! This is a minor point that I think the game states directly, but don’t start your countdown clocks at something the players have no chance of stopping and/or already happened.)

Don’t worry too much right now about setting up arcs – your players, through their choices in character creation, are likely to give you a ton of fodder for that stuff. IIRC the book advises to start thinking about arcs after you’ve already had the first session, and that’s good advice, but you can probably wait even later than that if you can’t think of anything yet.

Some advice on magic: Let cool stuff happen, but keep in mind the tone and style you set up with your players before allowing something. Magic is flexible in the game, but don’t let clever magic-using players walk all over you. Like I do. A lot. But uh yeah, keep in mind you get to pick the restrictions on a spell. This is one case where GM fiat kinda has to come in to regulate things slightly and you have to decide what makes sense narratively as a cost for the action being attempted. Some characters, like the Monstrous or the Spooky, will logically in the fiction be (super?)naturally magical, so they can get away with fewer of the material-component-type stuff for Use Magic rolls that seem like they should be part of the characters’ natural abilities, especially if you’re going for more of a high-magic game where magic is a little less limited, but you can still put restrictions on things like time in those cases.

Lastly, I don’t want to overwhelm you with options, but I’d advise you to give this PDF a look-see if you haven’t already. It’s about introducing other forms of the supernatural into MotW in addition to the basic magic stuff that the game assumes by default. It adds new “monster” types that are built to emulate threats posed from weird happenings or alien phenomena, to give more of an X-Files or Warehouse 13 feeling where instead of hunting a physical monster, the players are unravelling a strange circumstance and trying to prevent the phenomenon from hurting more people. It also adds options for characters replacing the Use Magic basic move with some other different Weird-based move, which might be near-superhuman physical feats, mundane gut instinct, psychic powers, etc. You don’t have to allow or use these options in your game, but it can make more sense for specific styles of game if you and your players don’t want a setting where everybody can use magic, and/or your players want more thematically appropriate Weird powers for their character if they don’t see themselves using magic often. It can be a good incentive to avoid Weird being a dump-stat for players who don’t want to play a magic-user, but the game is perfectly playable and fun in either style. Again, don’t want to overwhelm you or your players, but I really like the More Weirdness rules and remember how I could’ve used them in some of my earlier sessions, so I want to make sure you’re at least aware of them even if you want to play a more Buffy/Supernatural-style “everybody can use magic fairly easily if they know the rituals” type of setting.

(Okay, actually-lastly, one more minor thing: This isn’t really advice on playing the game, but I would advise you and your group to come up with a title and theme song for the monster-of-the-week TV show that your game is telling the stories of, purely because I found that really fun in my own game. Our theme song is “Stone Cold Sober” by Paloma Faith, if you’re curious. I link the music video in our game chat every time we start a game, after I narrate a cold open.)

I think that covers all the basic stuff I can give advice on off the top of my head. If there’s something I haven’t covered here that you’d like more detail on, or you have a more specific question about how the game is played, feel free to ask! Happy to see more folks playing the game and happy to help out!

[senorplume-blog]

Reunion (a short story)

   Henry throws on his favorite shirt, a concert tee that he got at an Arlo Guthrie concert some years back. Pulling the shirt over his head, he eyes the bottle of ale that sits on the kitchen table. Reaching out with his left hand he grabs the bottle and takes a long pull from it. Friday night and not a thing going on. Luckily.     With the drink in his hand he walks over to the living room window and takes a peak at the great outdoors. Folks arriving for a CYO event at the school across the street. Looks like a basketball game as he spies on the young girls showing up in their cheerleader outfits. Some adults walking in and a young man about 20 has his head stuck into his cell phone, texting as he moves straight ahead. Henry closes the curtain tight and walks away quite glad that he is not playing a game of basketball tonight. As much as he complains about the loneliness of his life, he has adapted to it and some nights, such as tonight, he is glad for his solitude lifestyle.      The television is on but thankfully muted while the record player spins the vinyl album around at 33 and a third. A collector of sorts, he stops and stares at his records. A massive amount that must be well into the thousands. His father started him out young to the pleasures of music and he never looked back. His dad left him his old records from the 40's to the 70's when he passed away. Alphabetized, he goes down to one knee to look through the Z's. Pulling out Frank Zappa's first album he takes the record from its sleeve and stares at the grooves that the needle reads. Henry can, and will spend hours now gazing at his collection with pride bursting up through his soul. Nothing can or will make him as happy as rummaging through these records and trips to the Salvation Army for more is his true joy in life.      Stopping only to gather up a plate of nacho's and a few beers, Henry has just spent the complete Friday night alone with his records. He plans to leave the house tomorrow morning for a trip to the local hotel where a huge record sale will be going down. Once a month there is a gathering of all types of venders selling off their albums and other music related items. Henry looks forward to this with unbridled glee. He takes to the computer and after seeing there was not one email waiting for him he begins to compile a list of albums that he must have and hopefully he will be able to find them there. Some records he just never stops looking for. Years and years he has waited for somebody to sell them off. A Beatles record nicknamed the Butcher Album due to the cover showing the Fab Four dressed as butchers covered in raw meat and doll parts. A true and rare collector's item. He saw one once when he was visiting his sister in California. He had it in his hands and as he always does, he smelled the inside of the cover. There really is nothing finer than the scent of an old record Henry believed. The asking price for the album was a hefty 1000 bucks which he did not have at the time. He has saved up for the day it would appear to him again. He would not miss out on it twice.     With the need to take a piss Henry, drunk now, as he always is on the weekends, stumbles to the bathroom. Holding on for dear life he lets out a long sigh and out of the blue the telephone rings. He usually unplugs the fucking thing on the weekends but he must have forgotten.  The answering machine pick up. It is a woman's voice and it is unfamiliar. Without washing his hands, Henry walks to the bedroom to hear the voice say goodbye and then the tape rewinds. Who the fuck could that be? Henry presses play and he listens in carefully.   "I'm looking for Henry Coda. If this is the wrong number I apologize but I really want to find him. This is Anna Baez. I went to school with Henry back in the 80's and I would like to invite him to our schools 25th anniversary. It's this upcoming weekend…seven days from now and it will be a ball. So Henry, please if you could join us at the school at 7 in the gymnasium… I would be thrilled to see you again. We all would. It will be a blast. I hope this is the right number. Call me at 722-5733 to let me know if you can come. Thanks and goodbye."     Christ. Anna Baez. Henry takes a long drink from the bottle…killing it and he heads to the bookshelf to pull out his senior yearbook. The cover says Binghamton Central High School. It has been years since he has looked at this thing. He takes a seat on his bed and opens the book. He flips through the pages with a bored look on his face until he comes to the page he wants. Under his nose is a picture of Anna. A blonde beauty that was quite popular in school. Unlike Henry she excelled in school, running for class president and winning. A cheerleader and if he remembered correctly, she was crowned prom queen…a prom in which Henry did not attend. His book was signed a few times and he reads a few. "Have a great summer Henry…see you at the college." "Henry, keep playing that guitar and I am certain you'll be top of the pops in no time." "You are one weird fellow man. Don't change."    Henry never ended up going to the local community college and he never made it to the top of the charts. He was still weird and he has barely changed since the 80's. He closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. He remained on the bed thinking of school. How he hated it and most of the kids there…except for one girl…Nancy…or Nan for short. Nan, he had the biggest teenage crush on. She was always friendly with him but she was dating the same guy from their freshman year right up to the senior year. They were friends…she was kind to him and although her boyfriend hated him she didn't care. She was nice. Rising from the bed he began to think about her. Nan, I wonder if you are even still alive and if you are I bet you have fourteen kids and a beefcake husband. He wandered out of his room and made it to the kitchen to grab a fresh beer. Cracking it open he heard the needle hit the label on the record he was playing and he knew it was time to flip it over.    Playing the Stones now he could not get his mind off of that girl. Nan. Henry hardly left his house for any kind of social event. Skipping family reunions and the like. But this…this could be…interesting. He wanted to see Nan and that was the only thing that made him pick up the phone to call Anna back.     She answered right away and sounded genuinely pleased to hear from him. She told him that he was all set. That it was to be a casual party and that he could bring a friend or spouse if he wanted to. Henry asked how many people have signed up to go and she told him that it will be a packed event. "Expect at least a hundred kids to be there. It will be lots of fun. And Henry, feel free to bring some of those records of yours with you. I bet we would all like to hear them." After saying goodbye and hanging up Henry crawled into bed and found himself…drunk and daydreaming about Nan and just what he could say to her. It made him nervous just thinking about it and soon he blocked it out and fell asleep with the full bottle of beer next to his head. ——————————————————————————————–                    After about four beers Henry was ready to leave for the reunion. Dressed in khakis and a seersucker shirt he bent down to tie his shoes when he felt the urge to throw up come over him. He ran to the kitchen sink and made it just in time. Four beers down the drain, all sudsy and wiping tears from his eyes he went to swig some mouthwash around in the bathroom.       Outside now Henry tucked the cuffs of his pants into his socks and jumped onto his bicycle. The school was only a few blocks away and it was a pleasant night. He had no intention of trying to impress anyone there. His bike was fine and he enjoyed riding it more than driving anyway.      Along the way there his nerves grew worse and he checked the time on the side of the bank on the corner. 7:15. He was late and he did not care. He toyed with the idea of not showing…no one would miss him anyway but Nan…he was dying to see what became of her. He stopped his bike in front of the tavern Rocco's and parking his bike on the side of the building. He went in. "Henry! Long time no see my friend. How goes it?" Rocco extended his hand and Henry shook it with a weak smile on his face. "Get me a cold one please Rocco. Lord knows I need one tonight" "What's the big occasion? You got a hot date tonight? If you do, bring her here. I'd love to see the kind of girl you could pick up Henry."       The bartender, a black guy with muscles that would put Schwarzenegger to shame cracked the top off the bottle of Bud and handed it to Henry. He took hold of it and brought it to his mouth and drained half of it in a mere two seconds. His eyes darted around but he found himself slowly calming down. The television above the bar was on showing some soccer match and the jukebox was playing the old Turtles tune.. .'Happy Together.' "Henry, it's been a while, a few days now perhaps since you last walked into my establishment. What's been happening to you? You depressed? Did a fire destroy your record collection or something?" "No. Just been busy is all. Listen Rocco, I need your advice here. I'm now headed to my 25th reunion at school and I am rather nervous about it all. There is a girl there…or a woman now and I really want to talk to her but I am a social dud. I have no idea what to say to her. What's a good ice breaker? Something that won't make me look like a total dick head. Just a little dick head." Rocco smiled and said " Ah Henry, you seeing an old flame tonight? Some girl who used to give you hand jobs in the basement? Something like that eh?" "No…not at all. Just a girl who I was friendly with. Though I have to admit that I dreamed of her and those hands giving me some relief. I don't know. I can't think of what to say to her when I see her. I need your help here."   Rocco pulled up a stool and thought for a while. "What did you guys used to talk about in school? Back then. What did you talk about?" Henry thought for a while and he said `music.' "Ok, then you talk about that. Just say that you heard an old song on the radio and that it made you think of her. She'll be pleased to hear this…hopefully and there you go. You'll be off to the races." "But I never listen to the radio…all those commercials and that terrible hip hop music they play now a days…It gives me a head…" “Then, forget the radio part…just say you heard a song…somewhere… and it made you think of her. Just wing it from there. She'll want to know what song and then you'll be in a real conversation and I bet it will be the first one with a woman for quite some time. Am I right?" Henry sighed and took a drink from the bottle. "Yeah, music, that's kinda what I had planned on anyway." "That's all you ever talk about actually Henry. This is the first conversation we've had that wasn't about music or music related. You must really be nervous." "Yeah, I am. What time is it Rocco?" "7:30." "Shit, I gotta go. Thanks for the help. I appreciate it, man."     Rocco wished him good luck and said that if he gets lucky with the girl to bring her over to the bar so he could see what all this nervousness was all about. Henry killed his beer and slammed the bottle down on the bar with a determined thud. He stood and with a wave left the bar and found his bike waiting for him. He climbed aboard and began his trek to the school. ————————————————-      Inside the gymnasium it was sweltering. He was informed at the front desk, where old Anna Baez was sitting, that the air conditioners were on the fritz and to expect it to be a little warm in there. Warm? It was horrible. Henry went immediately to the bar and ordered a beer. A nice cold beer would really hit the spot and maybe calm his nerves a bit.    Drinking, he looked down to his name tag. Henry. Who the hell is going to remember me anyway? This is a mistake. He had a few friends in high school and they all went to universities and left him in his hometown alone and friendless. Sure, he knew some of the guys and gals at the record conventions but he wouldn't be able to really call them friends. He was a lonely guy who simply loved his records and beer. He looked up and watched all the people milling around and some dancing. A few guys whom he recognized as old jocks were standing at the bar, drinking and laughing, without a care in the world. Henry felt the sweat dripping down his back and he flapped his shirt a few times to get some air in there. His ears pricked up when he heard a Duran Duran song playing and he was just about to head over to the DJ booth to talk to the guy about his CD's when he saw Nan walk in. The light from the gym was weak at best but he knew it was her although he could not read her name tag. My goodness…there she is he thought to himself. I'll just wait for a while to let her mingle with the people that she really wanted to see and then, then he would walk up to her and reintroduce himself to her.        Henry wiped his brow with the back of his hand and struck up a conversation with the DJ. They shot the shit for a few minutes when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Nan smiling ear to ear. "Henry Coda…my God…you look exactly the same. You really do. My goodness…how are you?"       Henry's shirt was sopped with sweat as he opened his mouth to return her greeting when a group of guys walked up to Nan and began to talk excitedly to her. Henry shrunk back to the DJ booth and just stood there watching them enjoying their conversation. I wish I was normal he thought to himself. I wish I could talk and feel carefree with others. Instead I am a sweating fool all alone with social anxiety and a drinking problem. He took a swig from his plastic cup and turned around to stare at the wall.     A few minutes passed while a Van Halen song played. Henry began to recall the time he had bought the album which this song came from when he heard a woman's voice say something. He turned around to see Nan staring at him. "Hello…anyone home? I've been trying to get your attention for a minute now silly. Daydreaming about music I bet. This Van Halen song sure brings back the memories don't you think?" "I was just playing this song a few days ago actually. All in all it's a great album with very little filler. Sure, a few of the songs aren't all that great on it but not many records from that period were masterpieces. You know what I mean?" Nan smiled at him and told him that he has not changed all that much from 25 years ago. Henry smiled and tried hard to think of something to say to her. He decided to ask her about her life now but she spoke first. "So tell me Henry…tell me about your life. Are you married? Is your rock and roll wife around here somewhere?" "Wife? Ha, no…No wife. Never. Never was married. You?" "Well, remember Davey? My boyfriend in school? We married after college and 10 months later we were divorced. Still to this day I have no idea what went wrong but that band of gold on my finger just cursed us. It was something else, I'll tell you, I won't be walking down the aisle again, you can count on that." Henry looked down at her finger and even in the bad light he could see that she was not sporting a wedding ring. "Gee, I'm sorry about that Nan. Geeze…will he be here tonight? Davey?" "No, he moved to Washington State after our divorce was finalized. I haven't seen him in years now. No kids…thank God." "Oh…well that's good I guess…divorce can really be hard on kids; at least that's what I've read in magazines and all. So…you live around here?" Nan answered his questions and boy was there a lot of them. Henry at times felt like he was interviewing the poor girl but he really had nothing else to say to her so he asked questions. Query after query but she didn't seem to mind at all. They talked for a while when he realized he was in dire need of a drink. He tried to back step a bit to get closer to the bar hoping that she would follow him…slowly but two steps back into his plan she stood right there, not moving an inch. He would have to ask her if she would like a refill on her wine…or what appeared to be wine. Maybe it was punch. It was red and that was all he could tell. In a break in the conversation he asked her if she would like a refill and that he could really go for a cold beer in this stifling heat. "I know! It's so hot in here…I can't stand it. Want to go outside for a bit? I could use some fresh air and besides…and don't tell anyone but I am dying for a cigarette." "Outside? Certainly. I'd like that. I'm beginning to melt in here. Please just let me refill my beer here. Can you wait?" She nodded her head and Henry went to get a beer. Turning to Nan he asked her if she was good. She replied that another cup of wine would be great and she handed him her now empty cup. "…A nice cold Michelob and a wine please Jerry."    The bartender filled up the two glasses and they headed outside. On the way to the front doors Nan was greeted with many hellos. Henry couldn't remember her being so popular in school. It was mighty crowded and Nan grabbed his arm and pulled him along and he was happy to be lead away out of there. Outside the cool air was a Godsend. They both needed the cool night air on their hot skin. "Now this is much better, don't you think Henry? So, tell me now…back in school you loved music more than anyone I've ever known. You ever made a career of it? You in a band or anything?" He felt like he was letting her down as he went on to say that not only was he not in a band but that as a career he chose media marketing. "What exactly is that Henry?" "You know those jingles you hear on the radio? I write them. I make commercials for the radio and television." "Oh my, how interesting…anything I would know?" "You know Champs Fried Chicken? The chain of chicken places? Well that one ad..the one that goes:

`Champs…is the place to be when your down and hungry, a dollar 99 is all you got? you'll dig our chicken, you'll dig it a lot.'

I wrote that." "Holy shit Henry, I know that song! It's the catchiest tune like ever! Wow…I'm with a celebrity here!" "Ha…well…it pays the bills. It's not going to get me a gold record but I suppose I can't complain." "Well, I think it's awesome…simply awesome Henry. I'm not as famous as you but I guess my job is ok…I sell real estate in North Carolina. I'm not rich or anything but like you, I can pay the bills."     Henry found himself relaxing a bit. The cool night air did him well and he found that he could keep up his end of the conversation. He went in a few times to refill their drinks. He was feeling alright by the time of his 7th beer of the night and Nan was really knocking the wine back. They talked about many things and a few people even recognized him as they made their way out of the gym to return home.    Around the time of Nan's fifth cup of wine she realized that the party inside was dying down. "I should really go back inside and mingle a bit more. You wanna come along with me? There has to be other people you want to see besides me." "Not really, Nan…in fact the only reason why I came to this high school heat wave was to see you. You were always so nice to me…don't think I've forgotten it these many years later." "Oh Henry, that's so nice of you to say. Shoot…I should go back though. You sure you don't want to come with me? I'll buy you another drink." Henry thought about it and decided not to go in. "I'm sorry Nan but it's really too hot for me in there. I'm going to head to Rocco's for a nice air conditioned beer." "Sounds splendid. Ok…I understand. "It was nice to see you again Nan…really. Take care now." "I will. Thanks for visiting with me. I had a ball. Enjoy Rocco's" And with that they hugged each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

      Around 1AM Rocco was placing the chairs up on the tables when there was a knock at his front door. He checked the time on his wrist and went to tell them he was closed. Through the door he saw a woman standing there. "I'm sorry Ma'am but I'm closed now. I open at 9 if you still need a drink in the morning." The girl was swaying a bit but managed to steady herself. "Is Henry there? Henry Coda? I'm a friend of his." Rocco opened the door and told her that she just missed him. "He left about 10 minutes ago. You don't happen to be Nan are you?" "Yes..why?" "Oh boy was he going on and on about you. You made quite the impression on him tonight. He usually only talks about music but not tonight. It was Nan this and Nan that. Sorry you missed him." "Yeah, me too. Please tell him I stopped by ok?" "I will. Goodnight." And with that she turned away and headed back to her waiting taxi. “Thanks for waiting. Please take me to the Serling Hotel.”   The driver nodded and turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the tavern.  Nan, drunk… rummages through her purse as the taxi speeds through the early morning darkness as the car radio plays an REM song and Nan smiles to herself as she zips up her bag and quietly sings along to the tune as it plays.    

[gadgetsrevv]

Czech Republic v England LIVE: Line ups confirmed, team news, fixtures & Euro 2020 latest | Football | Sport

CZECH REPUBLIC vs ENGLAND

Czech Republic XI: Vaclik, Coufal, Celustka, Brabec, Boril, Soucek, Kral, Masopust, Darida, Jankto, Schick.

England XI: Pickford, Trippier, Keane, Maguire, Rose; Henderson, Rice, Mount; Sancho, Kane, Sterling

England players ready to walk

18:50: An aspect of off-field behaviour that will be under the spotlight is the potential for racist abuse and the reaction of England’s players to any such issues.

While Bulgaria, who have part of their stadium closed after being hit with UEFA sanctions following racist behaviour in their previous two home qualifiers, could be the main worry, should an incident occur in Prague, the fall-out could make front-page news around the world.

England’s players look set to follow the three-step UEFA protocol for racist abuse, but Chelsea striker Tammy Abraham suggested they could walk off the pitch if they feel the official response is proving ineffective.

Czech Republic v England LIVE: Euro 2020 fixtures, score, goals and updates (Image: GETTY)

How things stand…

18:45: It’s actually pretty simple but I’ll go over it anyway.

Gareth Southgate’s side have won all four of their Group A fixtures so far and sit top of the table.

Victory over the Czech Republic and Bulgaria will make sure of a place at Euro 2020, where Wembley will play host to both semi-finals and the final on July 12.

Czech Republic v England LIVE: Euro 2020 fixtures, score, goals and updates (Image: GETTY)

Twitter reaction

Harry: Odd that Trent Alexander-Arnold isn’t getting a start when it’s quite obvious he’s England’s future and already better than Kieran Trippier!

Nick: Well done Mason Mount, fully deserved his start tonight for England and been a game changer for Chelsea, just wish we had players like him at Manchester United that can change a game!

CJ: The awful not good enough for Tottenham Trippier starts for England again. The amazing Harry Winks on the bench. Weird old game, eh?

Starting XI

18:30: Some interesting England news? Kind of. Gareth Southgate makes three changes from the side who beat Kosovo last month.

Chelsea’s Mason Mount makes a full debut replacing teammate Ross Barkley in midfield.

Atletico Madrid star Kieran Trippier starts ahead of Trent Alexander-Arnold at right back with Danny Rose preferred to Ben Chilwell on the opposite flank.

England XI: Pickford, Trippier, Keane, Maguire, Rose, Rice, Henderson, Mount, Sterling, Sancho, Kane

Subs: Pope, Alexander-Arnold, Chilwell, Gomez, Mings, Timori, Winks, Barkley, Rashford, D.Henderson, Abraham.

Czech Republic v England LIVE: Euro 2020 fixtures, score, goals and updates (Image: GETTY)

Evening…

18:20: Hello everyone and welcome to our LIVE coverage of Czech Republic vs England.

The Three Lions caught me completely off guard by announcing their side early. I’m actually still stuffing a chicken katsu curry down my neck. Lovely image for for…

Anyway, England travel to Prague this evening knowing a victory will see them qualify for Euro 2020 with a couple of games to spare.

Should be an interesting evening filled with goals, analysis and a good dollop of indigestion.

Czech Republic v England LIVE: Euro 2020 fixtures, score, goals and updates (Image: GETTY)

CZECH REPUBLIC vs ENGLAND | TEAM NEWS

England manager Gareth Southgate is likely to select Mason Mount and Fikayo Tomori against the Czech Republic as he freshens up his squad for the Three Lions’ latest European Championship qualifying clash.

Southgate is set to hand Mount a start in midfield ahead of Chelsea team-mate Ross Barkley, with the playmaker having impressed domestically this season under Frank Lampard at Stamford Bridge.

The withdrawal of Leicester ace James Maddison from the squad due to illness has further increased Mount’s chances of starting, while fellow Blues youngster Tomori is in contention to make his senior international debut.

A shaky defensive performance in the 5-3 win over Kosovo has cast doubt over Southgate’s first-choice central defensive pairing of Harry Maguire and Michael Keane, with the latter in danger of missing out tonight.

And Joe Gomez has struggled for game time at Liverpool due to Joel Matip’s fine form so Tomori and Aston Villa defender Tyrone Mings look set to battle for the starting berth alongside Maguire.

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[switchedatbirthspoilers]

Switched at Birth EP on Finale's 'Family Triangle,' Reunion Hopes and More

Switched at Birth concluded its five-season run on Tuesday in much the same way it started: with a strong sense of family as the Kennish-Vasquez clan laid on their front lawn together, gazing up at a rare comet.

The final sight of unlikely sisters Bay and Daphne splayed across the grass was meant to evoke the “iconic image” of the show’s early key art, executive producer Lizzy Weiss tells TVLine, adding that she hopes the series finale leaves viewers feeling “the same way when you shut it off as you did when you started, that this is a very special family that you wanted to be part of.”

The show’s central love triangle also took a familial turn when, rather than moving to Japan with her boyfriend Travis, Bay asked her ex Emmett to accompany his “brother.”

“That was very intentional,” Weiss says. “There was a lot of discussion about Bay as a young woman and that the conversation kept getting framed as, ‘Which boy was she going to choose?’ and we were are all very sensitive to that. She’s a young woman in her own right.”

Still, Bay and Travis reaffirmed their commitment to each other as a long-distance couple, while Daphne and Mingo reunited. Elsewhere, Regina convinced Eric to turn himself in so they could one day be together, and Kathryn discovered that before the switch was unearthed, John thought Bay wasn’t his daughter, but stuck around anyway.

Below, Weiss talks about her vision for the series ender, the storylines that got cut and the possibility of a reunion.

TVLINE | How much of this ending was what you originally envisioned before you got the news that the show wasn’t coming back?

Lizzy Weiss | There were general decisions that were made, like that Bay and Travis stay together. But I don’t know that we knew the exact moves of the story until we were faced with that in the moment. I always knew that we would shake up John and Kathryn one last time and remind everyone that they’re the center, and they will not be moved as a couple. But a lot of it we decided in the moment after many, many weeks of throwing things around.

TVLINE | The news came down while you were in the middle of production on the season. So were there certain things that you had to speed up or that you didn’t quite get to?

Lizzy Weiss | There were decisions we may have taken more time with. I always wanted to have Toby give up music and choose to move into a career with disability. That probably would have been over the course of the next ten episodes. We did it faster; that’s OK. Speaking of Toby, we wanted to explore that family becoming Jewish, and the Kennishes throwing a Passover seder and how fun that would be. It was more like there were stories and episodes we were bummed we didn’t get to do because we thought the fans would love them. But there wasn’t one big turn where I felt like, “Oh God, that will never be told.” All of the key stuff with the key players, we got to do.

Like with Regina, we always knew that Eric was the guy, and that Luca was for now. And I actually like how it turned out. We did it really quickly. It felt urgent; it felt exciting. She had to make that decision really fast. The elegance of her starting the show as a single mom and ending it with a new partner and a new son was just really beautiful to me.

TVLINE | You said you knew Bay and Travis would stay together. There was never any debate about which guy Bay was going to end up with?

Lizzy Weiss | There certainly was debate. But after much debate, the room felt pretty clear this is how things shook out in the course of the series. It’s not like a hundred episodes ago, I knew this. But a show evolves…. It felt like Bay had moved forward and didn’t want to go back. And Emmett’s become a different guy. He’s going through some rough times, and she’ll always be there as a friend. This choice she made to ask Emmett to go with [Travis], first of all, that was intended to honor the whole heart of the show, which is siblings by unusual circumstances, which is what Bay and Daphne are, and so are the guys. So there was a sweet symmetry to that. It just felt like there was a little bit of a triangle without being a triangle. We know that these three will always be connected. They’ll always be having Thanksgiving together, if Bay and Travis end up together in the long run. They will always be sitting at each other’s table, and maybe it’ll be complicated and weird, or maybe it won’t, but for now, the triangle is not quite a love triangle. It’s a family triangle.

TVLINE | Mingo made a late-in-the-game play for Daphne’s heart. Why did you decide she should be with him?

Lizzy Weiss |  You just reminded me Mingo may be one of the only ones that we did have bigger plans [for] in the long run. We definitely were going to take our time and have fun with that story. We wanted the ex-girlfriend to visit and cause some problems. We did have to get there faster. That was one of the things that got shortchanged. But that’s OK.  Basically, just Adam [Hagenbuch] and Katie [Leclerc] had such great chemistry. We created him a little bit because we wanted to get Wilke back, and [Austin Butler] was on that MTV show [The Shannara Chronicles] in New Zealand, literally 5,000 miles away… And then Mingo became his own character and delighted us in his own way, and we all forgot about Wilke and became all about Mingo. … We always did intend that they were The One [for each other]. I just love that scene between them at the end where he says, “I’ll turn down the internship,” and her answer is so surprising. He thinks he’s being magnanimous, and she says, “Don’t do that. Take it, teach him. Teach the world.” So I just liked that as a model for the kind of couple they’re going to be. He’s a very, in some ways, traditional guy. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’s going to be talking about disability rights. But if they end up together, he will. And sometimes, those kind of opposites-attract [types] really do work in the long run.

TVLINE | The final image of the show is very sweet — and is not a flash-forward. Are you leaving the door open for a reunion movie or something of that sort?

Lizzy Weiss | Who knows what will happen in ten years, if there’ll be an appetite for it or if everyone will want to do it? But it feels like the door’s open. I would be happy to, if all things point in that direction. If things end up that all you have are 103 episodes to revisit, I’m really proud of those, and I hope that they live on beyond this generation.

TVLINE | Some shows like to go forward in time and show where the characters end up. Did you specifically want to avoid wrapping things up too neatly like that?

Lizzy Weiss | Yes. First of all, we’ve done that a little bit. We did two, even though they were imaginary, very important moments when Angelo died. We saw Daphne in her wedding dress, though we didn’t know who she was marrying, and we saw Bay delivering twins, and we didn’t know if Emmett [was the father] or who.

Secondly, [Pretty Little Liars] was doing that, and they were, of course, quite successful. So we didn’t want to do exactly the same thing since they were doing that at the same network. And — especially, as you bring up, could we maybe have a reunion in 10 years? — I didn’t want to box myself into, “Oh, we already said Daphne’s going to be this kind of doctor.” Or, “We already said Bay does end up with Travis,” or, “Bay doesn’t end up with Travis.” It’s an ending, it’s a period… but there could be a return and a new paragraph in ten years.

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