#token evil neighbor

[exasperatedoctopus]

The amount of nonsense the ds9 crew puts up with from Quark is ridiculous.

A non-exhaustive list of Quark’s crimes as of s2:ep12:

1. He directly let in a bunch of criminals into the station that proceeded to kidnap the worm-portion of Dax

2. He blackmailed Julian and O’Brien into having a public tennis match, then tried to drug Julien to fix said match

3. He has been caught actively consorting with arms dealers on multiple occasions

4. He literally broke into someone’s private quarters to steal a secret box and summarily kicked off a cold case murder investigation when he got chumped for it

Nobody’s even surprised by it at this point. The earth is round, DS9 is a miserable, shambling wreck of Cardassian engineering, and Quark commits Crimes

[sillyfairygarden]

PANOPTICON MAGAZINE | my pieces for @mcyt-couture-zine

sooooo delighted to have taken part in this incredible collection of works! find the full zine here, and head below the cut for so so many details about my piece:

TONS of yapping ahead. THIS ZINE PIECE KILLED ME. Literally I'm so sorry to everyone I was friends with who heard me mald about this for six months. Ultimately it had nothing to do with the wonderful modteam or contributors and was mostly me over-committing to a piece... But it turned out pretty cool <3

Very early on I knew I wanted to draw the nosy neighbors (everyone claps) and Limited Life. Pearl and BigB are THEE duo and just felt like the perfect canvas to explore fashion. The goal of my piece at first was transition: using clothing and jewelry to bring the characters through their lives in the Life Series. However, this piece (originally it was a 3-image spread) quickly grew too many limbs and ideas to be contained by one thing. There were animals? And coats? And legs. It was kind of hectic and I ultimately grew to resent the piece's direction soooooooo 1 week before the 3rd check-in I started over BigB's and completely spliced up Pearl's ^_^ (Which was, in hindsight, the right thing to do and I should have done it weeks earlier, but we ball. ANYWAY). Jewelry! I love sparkly things and jewelry and I love gold. It has deep cultural and familial significance to me (and also is just very very pretty). So instead of using the jewelry to express their identity within limlife, I wanted to represent their characters as a whole within the Traffic Series.

PEARL: The Wolf (الذئب) I really love Pearl's post-DL identity as the guardian of her friends, taking a backseat from her lonelier days. I also love coding her as a knight ^_^ As a result, she wears fewer pieces of jewelry which mostly serve as tokens of sentiment.

Clock earrings serve as an homage to the time mechanism in Limited Life

Eye Ring ties her to BigB and his association with the evil eye in my previous works

Claw Nailed-Rings and Wolf Ring to bring some animalism and brutality to everyone's favorite wolfgirl (the wolf ring is worn on her left ring-finger, symbolizing her union with Tilly)

Emerald Mound meant to represent her Mounders from SL

Unicorn Brooch is another symbol of loyalty to BigB (who in the first draft of this piece had a unicorn animal companion... You've seen Thello butterfly-code BigB now get ready for unicorn-coding <333)

Galactic Text: "How to trust after being abandoned by all your loved ones and hunting down your ex only to be spared by him... Exclusive!"

BIGB: THE PRINCE (الأمير) THIS WAS THE PROBLEM CHILD PIECE... As mentioned I completely started over. Checks watch. Around a month before it was due after spending So Long on the original. But it turned out for the better! I love making BigB very princely and regal (and a little strange /pos) in my interpretations of him in other pieces of art, so this magazine-type cover felt like no different of an opportunity. He doesn't get the chance to be glamorous very much, so let's change that, shall we?

Fairy Wings Ring represents the Fairy Fort in Last Life

Heartstabber Ring is an homage to Double Life <3

Lilypad Ring to honor Judge Judy from Limited Life

Wolf Brooch is a symbol of patronage to Pearl, his knight.

Watch is BigB's homage to the time mechanism in Limited Life

Bee Ring is engraved with "The Jester" in Arabic along the side, with an amber-cast bee to symbolize being frozen, stuck in time and older memories.

Evil Eye Jewelry the evil eye has a deep cultural and spiritual history across different regions of the East and ME/NA regions of the world. In my upbringing, the presence of the evil eye was worn on jewelry, woven in to clothes, and hung on tapestries/ doorways to ward off the negative energy of the malevolent gaze.

The name "panopticon" comes from the social theory of surveillance from the 18th century. I'd learned about it years ago in my uni days and the concept of a watchtower-style surveillance system stuck with me: a concept where all participants of the system would be watched at all times, but could not watch back. With how often height, scaffolding, and surveillance were present in metagame play during Limited Life (the Nosy Neighbor tower, Bread Bridge, Skynet/Skynet2), I felt like the term panopticon felt relevant to the unique gameplay style taken on by the players during this season.

[sahonithereadwolf]

Hey you know how there are always those meme post going around of someone, usually a white dude, talking about how there should be a reverse indiana jones about someone stealing from museum and giving it back to the people it belong to? Then you should support me on my patreon.

Or Follow Me on Itch.io

My name is Gar Atkins, and I'm a professional Indigenous (ᏣᎳᎩᏱ ᏕᏣᏓᏂᎸᎩ) game designer (previously: Evil Hat, Blaseball, my own shit...) with a background in museum work and I've been making that for the past 3 years in the form of a TTRPG called Protect The Sacred.

Protect The Sacred is an Anti-colonial* two-fisted adventure set in a pulp universe (including horror, sci-fi, mystery, and romance) where players play a team of adventure types with magic powers working to Protect, Preserve, and Reclaim the workings of magic as an expression of the intangible goods of culture on behalf and on the terms of the peoples they belong to. Monsters, Magic, and Mystical Artifacts are all on the table as you explore magical otherspaces, secret world and learn to be a better neighbor.

This game looks to interrogate the role of museums and the role they play (what they could be in the future), the actual challenges facing repatriation and what it means. It wants to tackle the legacy of pulp. It wants to ask you to consider what you consider culture, why it's important, and what it means to you through self-definition and roleplay. It also wants to punch fascist and dismantle the stolen and hollow valor they claim.

I got a lot of work left on this project. But I would love your support. This looks to be a 300+ page rpg and I'm a good portion of the way through it all.

*I use anti-colonial as opposed to decolonial because actual decolonial precepts requires concrete action with material results and decries symbolic or token gestures. And while my game can be many things and hopefully gets people talking about some of these subject, it's hardly the work.

[indecisive-v]

I’ve come to make an announcement: The Storyteller’s a bitch ass mother fucker. They killed my fucking neighbor. That’s right, they took their storyteller fuckin' grimoire out and they killed my fucking neighbor, and they said the Demon was THIS REAL. And I said “that’s bullshit!” So I’m making a callout post in the middle of town square: "Storyteller, you got a fake Demon, it looks like this Lunatic except WAY faker." And guess what, here’s what my token looks like: PFFFFFFFFGJT. That’s right baby. All Atheist, no Evil, no bluffs, look at that it looks like stars around a planet. They killed my neighbor so guess what, I’m gonna EXECUTE THE STORYTELLER. THAT'S RIGHT THIS IS WHAT YOU GET, MY SUPER LAZER NOMINATION

[pearlywritings]

A nickname's origin

synopsis: after meeting your lover's family and having a great start of your trip to Morepesok, Childe wakes you early in the morning, because he has something to show you...

prompt: 21

requested by: a lovely anon

pairing: Childe x fem!reader

tw: fluff, established relationship, usage of Childe's real name

word count: 1.5k+ words

a/n: part of my Token of appreciation writing event! Closed now, still have 3 more requests to write.

“Isn’t the scenery marvelous?”

It absolutely is. Snowy planes sparkle in the rising sun as if the ground is covered by richest furs and most precious gems - it’s almost blinding. The giant pine trees look enormous even kilometers away from you, creating a thick forestland; you remember how your lover told you that it is home for many species you can’t find anywhere but Snezhnaya. Looking back, you release a puff of warm air, adoring the sight of wooden cottages - or how the locals call those izba’s - lining perfectly, each with a fence, which is carved with intricate patterns and charms to protect from evil spirits. Smoke curls from the chimneys and it immediately reminds you where you are.

Outside. In the early hours of the morning.

“Wish we were watching it from the inside of your family’s house,” yawning, you reach to adjust the scarf - along with the hat it was knitted by his mom and gifted to you with the warmest of smiles. It’s been just a couple of minutes since you two exited the village and the cold is already biting the few uncovered areas of your face.

Ajax laughs. Heartily, with his hands resting on his hips and head thrown back. Of course, he is laughing, of course he’s going to suffer less - he was born and lived all his life in such an environment.

“It’s not funny!” Your huff is ignored and a punch that was aimed to his shoulder is easily caught by his palm. 

“Sorry, sorry. I just imagined how my siblings would’ve been glued to your sides and mama and papa continued their yesterday’s quest to ask you hundreds of questions. Don’t be mad, I thought you’d like to have a little break, at least for half a day, my fierce ounce.”

Ounce. That’s what he’s been calling you for the longest time now, yet never, never, telling you what that means (but he did assure you it’s a good thing, he loves you after all). However, he promised to show you once you come with him to Snezhnaya to visit his family.

To make it short - here you are, in Morepesok, at dawn, with your gingerhead of a fiance, motivated to stay in this harsh weather only to finally find out what or who was your lover’s inspiration behind his nickname for you.

“You have a point,” you sigh. You are happy his relatives were excited to meet and accept you, so much joy filled your heart yesterday, when you arrived. But dealing with so many people drained you - just a second of your head touching the pillow was enough to send you right to the gates of the dreamland. “I need some energy-refill before being ready to maintain a proper conversation with them again…”

“Don’t forget that the whole village wants to meet a lovely bride I brought with me,” it makes your groan.

“Is that really necessary..?”

“It’s a tradition. But it’s going to be fine, I promise,” the snow crunches under his heavy felt boots as he steps closer, arms circling your waist, and lips touching the bridge of your nose, making you close your eyes. Oh, the frost is already brimming your eyelashes. “Mama and papa are going to organize a feast - to celebrate you, to show you are a part of the family now, and our neighbors are going to come to congratulate us and bring some presents.”

“Well, I like presents,” his words and embrace soothe you, and you bury your face into the fur of his sheepskin coat. “And I like people acknowledging our relationship.”

“See? It’s a win-win,” he grins widely, boyishly, and it’s enough to reassure you. After all, you won’t be alone - he will be by your side.

“Alright, alright. Now, can we move? it’s getting cold, even with all these extra layers of clothes…”

“Sorry, baby. See that forest? There are mountains on the other side, that’s where we are heading to.”

“Wait, we’ll have to climb?” You look at him incredulously, perfectly aware that neither your clothes, nor your abilities are suitable for such an activity. Childe pats your back reassuringly.

“Nope, simply observe from a good spot. Come on, to that house to the left my dear, I made an agreement with Uncle Vladislav to give us a ride. Don't let go of my hand, alright? The path can be a bit slippery.”

The first experience of riding in the sleigh drawn by horses was magical. Though it was open, you had a very warm fur blanket covering your legs, snuggling into Childe’s side, taking in the vast snow fields surrounding you. Uncle Vladislav appeared to be a nice old man, with a long beard and bushy white eyebrows that almost covered his gray eyes. Before the ride he let you offer some carrots to the three beautiful white horses and gently pat their big noses. And during the ride he managed to entertain you with all kinds of stories of local folklore - his words perfectly flying behind his back and to you, and then he even started singing. Something about three white horses named December, January and February taking him somewhere into the ringing snowy far far away. You even managed to doze off a little - your lover had to shake you out of it when you finally arrived.

“Wow, we’ve ridden right into the forest?” You can’t help but ask in astonishment - from the distance the forest looked absolutely dense, but now you can clearly see a road wide enough to get through the way you did.

“Cool, right?” The smiling gingerhead offers you his hand, before turning to the old man. “Uncle, it can take some time, sure you want to wait for us?”

“Haha, that’s a funny thing you ask, chap. If I make you walk back your mother will have my head. Not that I was going to do so in the first place. Don’t worry about the cold - for the worst case scenario I have a bottle of fire-water with me. Might offer you and your girl to take a sip when you return.”

“Hope, it won’t be necessary!” Clasping his gloved fingers around yours, clad in mittens, the young man leads you away with a giddy look in his eyes.

“Sooo, are you ready to see a real ounce?” That wide boyish smile is back on his face and excitement exhilarates in your system. Ready? You were born ready. At your enthusiastic nods Childe presses his nose to your temple, gently rubbing in affection. “Great, because we are almost here. But please, be careful. Even with all that snow you can easily trip. And above all, do not let go…” his hold on your hand tightens. “For any reason, understood?”

“Ajax, if you tell me this one more time, I will let go. You've been telling me this since yesterday as if there is danger looming over me. Then again, how are you gonna protect me with one hand occupied? Or- Oh. Ooooh~” a smug smile appears on your lips. “Is my darling clingy~?”

He whines something about being worried and protecting you with no hands at all, to which you just laugh, promising that you are just teasing. And it's not like you can resist his adorable devoted clinginess - thus the lock of hands stays unbroken.

Not a couple of minutes later you are standing in a clear spot among the rows of trees which is enough to see the side of the mountain above the coniferous tops. Your lover is squinting, sharp eyes searching the expanse of the rocky surface. You patiently wait, quickly realizing that it’s pointless to stare there not knowing what you are looking for. Besides, admiring Ajax doing such a concentrated face is a treat.

Finally his eyes widen and a toothy grin tugs his mouth wide.

“Well, my dear, we are lucky. Look at that cliff.”

Trying your best to follow the direction of his unoccupied hand pointing you to lift your gaze. A thin ribbon of steam is momentarily broken when your breath hitches - and there is a solid reason for it.

A majestically looking large cat is getting ready to make a jump to the next protruding ledge. Fur is whitish to grey with black spots on the head and neck, with larger rosettes on the back, flanks and bushy tail. Oh, the tail. It’s so long and thick, like a whole other body. And then the animal jumps, flawlessly landing on all paws and getting a nice stretch, as if showing off specifically for the two of you.

“It’s a snow leopard,” your partner explains. “But here we call them ‘ounces’.”

“It’s… It’s so pretty…” You can’t take your eyes from the creature, so perfect among the snowy mountains.

“Part of the reason I gave you this nickname,” he embraces you from behind, putting his chin on top of your head and gently rocking your body in place. “Another part is because you are fierce and strong and also I really loved these animals when I was a kid. Always begged dad to take me hunting birds just to see the cats.”

“Aww, it’s so sweet,” despite the freezing cold your heart melts and you put your palms on top of his locked on your stomach. “But why being a tease and calling me a word I don’t know? Why not ‘my snow leopard’ instead?”

“About that… Let’s just say I wanted to keep the intrigue and increase my chances when convincing you to visit my homeland.”

A sheepish chuckle that follows makes you want to give him a little punch, but you quickly decide against it. Admittedly, Ajax did everything perfectly - this whole trip to Morepesok has been excellent so far, and he did not disappoint with the inspiration behind this unique term of endearment.

“Can we watch it a little bit more?” 

“As long as you want, my pretty ounce."

[axolator]

Stories from Final 3 Con — A Whirlwind Tour of Ravenswood Bluff, Washington DC

So! I'm currently fighting con drop, the terrible feeling that permeates your body when you realize that you just spent 3 days feeling happier than you typically do on the other 362.25, and I'm writing about the games I played and the times I had while the memories are fresh.

I'm seeing many other people writing these in Discord threads and other places, and I know of someone who turned its experiences at Las Vegas Clocktower Con into a more narrative story, so I thought I'd show my take on the recount of F3C. These are sloppy and kinda poorly-notated, but they're authentic and represent how I feel about everything that happened over these past three days. Without further ado!

Friday highlights:

Game 1: The Squall of Cthulhu by Angelo and Nick, STed by Angelo and Nick

15 player game, and I pulled the Poppy Grower token, bluffed a mix of Poli and Mayor on day 1 before getting golem punched (by the Politician doubleclaiming Mayor, lmao), living, and getting unceremoniously executed. Greeny the Poisoner (and my neighbor) got executed the next day, and with the Recluse as my other neighbor, I was fully convinced I was the Marionette. During final 3, I got confirmation I was the Marionette, voted with evil, but good had the votes for a Mayor win… which I was somehow a part of! I really was the good Poppy Grower and had won with the good team despite playing for evil the whole game. totally deserved 😎

(In putting down the grim, some of the reminder tokens got shifted out of place: the Knight pings are the Poli and Mayor, and the Empath is the Marionette, not the VI)

Game 2: Waluigi's Moustache by Luxray, STed by Etreides

This was the first of three 9 player games! I pull Librarian, see a Drunk, and on this script that can mean basically anything. I saw an Empath with a 1 and an FT, and mentally lock myself as the Drunk seeing two sober power roles (empaths are real right 🥹). Anyway, we kill Guggie the FT day 1 after weird voting, N2 no death makes me raise an eyebrow when my first chat claimed Outsider to me and then backed into Recluse despite nominating (he was the evil Goon). We kill our TC on the other side of the Empath, a line of three tries voting to lift which puts me into a tunnel… then one of them dies in the night, calims Monk, and we end up executing the Ojo the next day for the win when I realize that Empaths are never real, anyway.

Game 3: A Sudden Reversal by Nick B, STed by Etreides

It's the second 9 player game of the finalist scripts and I pull the General token. Day starts, and I learn that my neighbor didn't see his token, so things are just great. I learned a good, so figured the setup might be weird — maybe my neighbor was a Minion and doesn't know if he's the Baron or Scarlet? After the weirdest nomination phase ever, we end up killing the unspent Philo D1 (NOOOOO WHY) as Vortox food before going into a night where, despite killing the strongest claim on the script, I learn another good. The Ojo from the previous game then privately outs to me that he got snakecharmed (the Demon token is sticky, I guess), that the Minion got vigorkilled, and everything's making sense when the Oracle next to said Minion starts claiming 0s when the true number should be a 1. Slight problem - Rhydings comes out as the actual (albeit mez-turned) Oracle on D3, having realized his character after learning two 1s in a row. We end up killing into the oracle DC, and yeah, we did find the starting Snake Charmer (who wasn't even vigor-poisoned!)

Game 4: Night-Vision Goggles by Axolator, STed by Etreides

The third of the 9-player games and I pull Damsel on my own script. Uh-oh. Time to bluff Savant! There's a claim of Bounty Hunter seeing Tom and the FT claim nominates it — we get votes, execute the BH ping, and he… outs Lunatic after I die at night! Well, if it's Xaan it's Xaan 2.

The BH outs as harpymad and with an actual ping on said nom-happy FT claim, who outs Pixie FT on the block when there's no other FT claim in the game. It's only on D3 where I realize that the public Damsel claim (who had claimed Damsel publicly D1 and gotten Damsel-guessed by half the board) is the Librarian confirming me. Xaan 1 was therefore impossible, and things went off the rails. Everyone outs, the "actual Savant" is actually the real FT with a NO on Guggie the NWM (who still hadn't used it) N1 and a YES on him N3, the Fisherman got to not trust his living neighbors when he was sat between both FTs, and the BH just got hagged into the Hatter so it's confirmed LM??? We end up killing Guggie since he looks like prime Pit-Hag in a LM game with the BH claim as the other evil, and we're right. Turns out the BH was the starting Xaan 2, the Fisherman advice was bunk, and the Hag turned the Pixie into the Drunk N2 before making his fellow Minion the Boomdandy while holding the baby. Fun game, even if Etreides forgot to tell the Minions a Damsel was in play. Oops! 🙊

Game 5: Sects & Violets STed by Robin

I was actually going to try and run my own pickup game, but then got approached by people looking for a game, saw Robin trying to recruit, and decided to put my palm tree away to join their game instead. This was a 14-player pickup game with a bunch of really cool people I already knew from the Unofficial (Bingo, Queso, Bug, Skaggs, Jason, and a couple people I'm surely forgetting who were in that game — hi hi hi it was SO NICE to meet you all irl!!), and it was absolute chaos. I pulled Artist and Queso the Town Crier was socially locked good for basically the whole game from my POV, despite the fact that her tunnel was shifting each and every day. Eventually, after a couple of ST corrections and them really checking what Artist question I had asked (I reversed my question and answer for town, to make it easier to parse), we end up realizing Bug the Cerenovus had made Skaggs the Evil Twin (Dreamer) mad as the Snake Charmer on N1, who had then talked to the real Dreamer and claimed confirmation on D1 that wasn't real before claiming the twinpair was actually a Sage pair the next day. The Witch got a couple kills after being in a Savant doubleclaim with the real one we killed D1, and, oh yeah, we had starting Math 2s. We killed the Dashii candidates, figured out it was Vortox, eventually narrowed the Demon, and won handily. Super fun game to end the night.

(sidenote: I think most people who I knew recognized my voice, but couldn't place where they recognized it from. I had to tell everyone I knew online who exactly I was, since my IRL person-name was on my badge and not my username, and seeing the penny drop for people regarding my identity was *great* comedy. Them suddenly reverting to calling me "Axolator" in real life was kinda annoying, though — I have my name on my badge for a reason!)

Saturday highlights:

Game 6: Joffin Roffin Boffin Coffin by Alexis, forgot who STed it 😭

This script was a weird one, and if you don't count Threensyville (I'm not) it was my first evil pull of the con. Assassin in an 8p game, my Demon is across the board so I can't easily get bluffs, and Guggie my neighbor claims Assassin to my face. VI bluff it is! The game kinda spiraled out of control on D2 when everyone outed and the Empath 1 on my Demon just had to be sober, despite my efforts to frame the nightkilled Empath as an evil victim of Lil' Monsta, claim Guggie the Virgin (????) was the Boffined Assassin, or any number of other things… yeah, my Demon bluffing Clock 2 wasn't long for this world.

Game 7: China Shop v2.1 by Autumn, STed by Ryan

This was really, really fun! This wasn't the most recent verison of the script, but instead the one I covered on Script-A-Day earlier: so, evil-sided. I pull Grandmother, see an Amnesiac, then hardclaim that to everyone D1. I've got two Pacifist hardclaims, the TL saw the Widow, and after the TL nominated a neighbor, we got it on the block, and then we tied onto the other TL neighbor, we end up daykilling me for being in a typhon line or something. The Pacifist claim I first talked to dies N2, so that other Pacifist looks super evil, don't they? Spoiler alert: He was the Vigor-killed DA who got three saves that game, generating a ton of tempo for evil that they couldn't quite capitalize on with a whiffing Witch and Widow poisoning the Gambler as the other two Minions. At some point we doubletapped the Widow bluffing Tinker, the Gambler finally died, the Amnesiac I saw never got close to figuring out his ability, and we had to rush to the finish but did end up killing the Demon bluffing Philo-Pacifist! Sorry, Chandler.

[ST] Game 8: Word Around Town by autumnkitty

This was a 15p game with some people I knew online, some people I knew IRL, and a few people who had come together. I racked Dashii and every Minion that wasn't Godfather, put in a Klutz and Recluse, and after letting the tokens go out and realizing the Dashii had poisoned the solo VI (EVERY TIME those two go in the bag together) and Amne, I decided to put in a second bait role in the poisoned Amnesiac… who never got close to their ability by the end of the game. I tried very, very hard to frame the Anthony the RK-confirmed Philo-Mayor in a knight ping with the VI info, then he actually said the Mez word and neither myself nor the Mez heard it, then the Klutz got witchkilled the following day… and xe picked the Demon. Welp! It was a fun game, even if it was short. Glad I ran 3-star General, though, because my brain was not big enough to do 5 stars.

Breaktime: Trans meetup and CTBOTC meetup

Even though it was admittedly kinda awkward to just kinda… sit in a circle and talk with no structure, Shade did an amazing job with the trans meetup and it was awesome meeting some of the coolest members of the community (including some people from the Unofficial, CT, and some people who follow me on this very blog — hi hi!!! you all are awesome and I'm so glad I know you, also hi again hallow you're very cool). The CTBotC meetup after, then, had insaley good vibes and was similarly very fun, and we even got to rib DeMaida about fair wages for his workers in the Savant info mines for a bit. Awesome to meet so many cool people, and I was surprised by how many people knew me specifically — love you all 🥹

[ST] Game 9: Pearly Gates by Hannah, STed by Hannah and I

So Hannah doesn't actually own a physical Grimoire, so enlisted me before the con to co-ST. It was a fun game that went long — we pinged the Librarian off the Spy so he saw a Damsel between the Spy and the Monk ceremad as the Damsel, which nicely took up the D1 execution. What followed was a series of decisions as we didn't misregister the Spy to the Empath, so he got killed in a couple days, and the game suddenly accelerating to a final 7 or final 5 with only the Scarlet Woman-turned-Imp in a doubleclaim of Shugenja alive.

Oh yeah and Hannah sent me to the Savant info mines 😭 😭 it's always when i'm co-sting that I have to go to the mines too. At least my phone was basically dead so I had an excuse not to write down like 6 savant statements and then debate which ones to give LMAO

Sunday highlights:

Game 10: Hookah Sampling by Thomassaurus, STed by Thomas (and I'm just now clocking that they might be one and the same, omg that's so cool)

Metro delays meant I couldn't get to Lunar Eclipse on time, so traveled into a game with some of the Unofficial crew (including Paper, Noodle, Bryce, and a couple others I didn't mention earlier who I'm definitely forgetting). What started as an 8-player game quickly turned into a 10+3, since Bryce and I had to leave early and Dinosaur Satan got there just a bit late. I traveled in as the good Scapegoat, the Godfather doubleclaimed Saint with the grandma-confirmed Lunatic and I got them killed because "if you're good I'll save you", and I have no idea how that game ended because I traveled out on D2. Maybe I'll actually ask how that finished.

Breaktime: Puzzlebox

Like a cross between escape rooms and BotC logic puzzles. I had a blast, and I can't wait to do it at next year's Con. The physical puzzles were something of a weak area for me, but I was able to help with them, which I was happy about! I was fooled a lot of the time, but that's what the rest of the team is for. We had some fun chemistry between the members we knew and the ones we didn't, which was pleasantly surprising — go team! I was engaged that whole time and was the one who ended up laying out the finishing solves, mainly because I'm loud and obnoxious and like doing that: those moments where everyone agreed my world works mechanically worked were gold. Maybe I should've used a calculator for that final section instead of messing up the math, though 😭

hi ekin thanks for saying how much you liked my blog 🥺 your group of very famous clocktower people was kinda intimidating to be just-in-front-of in line for food and i was trying my best to be cool; i really want to do a script-a-day on Lord of the Night at some point because that script is AWESOME even if my groups aren't quite ready for it

[ST] Games 11 + 12: Cannons Rip the Sky by Axolator and Hannah, STed by me

A 15p game that ended in a PG rerack d1 (sorry again, Chandler… I was really looking forward to running that Pukka Boffin-General + Lycan + Math bag, too), followed by a 14+1 I had to speed through… and that was made very difficult by the GOAT Innkeeper Chandler blocking at least 3 kills that game (redemption for the Pukka game). I think the Math was innkeeper-drunk half that game and so just missed out on the glorious Math 4 that happened N2. Good ended up winning, but it was a tough pull for evil, since they didn't have many good bluffs to work with (the three I had to give were Lycan/Paci/Prof with Poppy and the non-Goon Outsiders as free bluffs thanks to the GF and existing as a knowing evil team, yikes!). Hannah, I still think Alsaahir works in the context of this script being text-centered even if Atheist would be really funny, fight me.

Breaktime: Script Notes Live with Alejo, Navean, and I

holyshitholyshitholyshit getting the DM from Navean was a dream come true, and even though I think I kinda butchered it I'd absolutely do it again if given the opportunity. It was so much fun to talk shop with Alejo and Navean, and the talk made me feel really good about how I built Night-Vision Goggles (even if I didn't end up winning, because Waluigi's Moustache is just a super great script that Luxray should feel amazing about, because his script is amazing). I still don't quite know how serious Alejo was being with their repeated suggestions of Heretic! The banter was great, the questions were awesome, I never want to think about PH-Harpy-Mayor deathmod again, and I think upon reflection High Priestess would go super hard here (thanks Mica for the suggestion) but perhaps over FT instead of Balloonist (I stand by what I think about Balloonist with hidden Outsiders, Navean :P). I just felt in my element at the panel and had a blast throughout, even if I kinda sucked at the whole "act like a person when you're talking in front of people" thing. All the chitchat in #custom-script-discussion on the Unofficial paid off, I guess? Hallow thinks I fit right in, so I'll take the W there.

(and speaking of the Unofficial again, hi everyone I met right outside before moving to the front; I'm so glad our schedules lined up for that brief moment; I hope your con went as well as mine did. I'm glad we got to met up IRL if only for a little bit)

Game 13: Sects & Violets with Navean

Three-then-four of my IRLs (one traveled in as the Bone Collector and unknowingly BCed the Mutant at the good twin's request), several people I knew from the Unofficial and other clocktowery spaces, a few people I didn't know at all, and a goose. And I pulled the Witch token, knowing absolutely none of my evil team before the game. How the hell am I going to win? Well, by getting two witch-kills, the second on myself, framing the Flowergirl down the river, and helping my team sell Vortox as a Fang Gu team all the way until final 5. I sniped the Seamstress bluff without talking to the Demon I neighbored, which definitely helped, then put the Evil Twin in a YES with the Philo-Savant (a NO in Vortox, and a clear indication of who the Evil Twin was). That along with the Juggler 0 on me, my Fang Gu bluffing Dreamer having several incorrect dreams, the Flowergirl with info indicating non-Vortox being "the obvious Witch since the kills stopped", and DeMaida's TC info not quite making sense all pointed toward Vortox for long enough for Hannah to spend aer Artist question and give some direction on where to send the kills.

Then, final 5 happened, our Fang Gu still hadn't jumped since we killed all the Outsiders during the day (I witchkilled the Mutant d1 and we executed the Sweetheart and Barber), and was in a doubleclaim with the actual Dreamer who had been dead since N3 ("oh, but it's an obvious cerelock," I said, and somehow at least one person believed me). Things were looking dire, I look at the Philo-Savant info and realizes it crushes my worlds but means we can get a twin win if I confidently solve non-Vortox in town. Too bad the actual cerelocked Savant (who had been dead since N2) broke, putting heat on my Demon going into final 4! The twin pair and two evils, and Hannah had a 50/50 on who the Demon was… but nominated wrongly, and evil somehow managed to win. An awesome game to send off my con with.

(if you're wondering why I'm the ET — there was a barber-swap in final 7, and the Demon wanted to squeeze out one more witch-kill that never happened)

Epilogue, and One Regret

I don't think I'm ever forgetting this con.

I came into con with so many friends and left with so many more. I met a ton of people I only knew online for the first time, and everyone was super cool and amazing. (Seriously, this community is full of amazing people.) I got to play Clocktower with people who loved the game as much as I do, and got a ton of good advice (I didn't mention this, but I went to Avery, Bunni, and Navean's panel about diversity in groups which had a ton of really good ideas about fostering an environment where everyone feels included and safe to be as they are — you can never stop learning!).

I will say, there are some things I missed out on. There are a ton of people who I either knew were going to the con or realized later that I never hung out with, and I never did Storytell a pickup game this year, with my schedule packed with scheduled events. My biggest regret, though? I never managed to take a group photo with the other F3C finalists in front of our scripts (though I did meet Luxray, who is awesome, so not entirely mission failure). That's on the docket for next year.

Even outside of Blood on the Clocktower itself, I had a ton of fun. I played a lot of Spirit Island (woo, winning Scotland 6 + Dahan Insurrection on the last turn via fear card solving our coasts) and other board games (including Captain Sonar for the first time), wore some outfits I could never wear anywhere else, got to forge connections I never could've otherwise, and just… had a really great time that I probably won't live down for quite a while. This experience was great, and I'm so glad I was lucky enough to be here for it. See you all next year! I love you all, and I can't wait to be back.

<3

[themousefromfantasyland]

I have to share this with you all:

As you all know, my family is very Christian and Conservative. What you don't know is that they are a more esoteric type of Conservative Christians. Living with them is like being the token muggle in an urban fantasy world. 

My mother claims she could see spirits as a child and has visions of the future. My father claims he had an extra-corporal experience as a teen.

My mother, my sister, and my grandma are part of a group of women in their church. They call themselves the Intercessors, and they basically exerce the same function as a healer in DnD. 

Their role is to cast away evil spirits and demons that cause bad luck and diseases in people. In more extreme cases, they perform the evangelical version of an exorcism. 

However, according to them all of this has a price.

Casting the demons away from a person, makes you the demon's next target. According to them, the Intercessors take away the burden of these poor haunted people and carry it themselves. 

It's probably the most unfair system imaginable, and I really think God’s people should unionize because of that.

Anyway, it's Carnival, and according to my family these demons are at full power and nothing can contain them now. 

We have neighbors that are from Candomblé, an African religion. My parents think they worship demons, but they aren't brave enough to say that to their faces. 

Yesterday, the Candomblé neighbors started doing their ceremonies. My mother got super frightened and started spreading holy oil everywhere, even on us. 

Honestly to me it's all ridiculous, but it's their religion and I can't say anything about it. 

Heck, the worst part is that I completely understand their logic: They think being Intercessors makes our family an easy target, Carnival makes demons stronger, and Candomblé brings demons into our world. 

It's ridiculous, and very racist, but I can't do anything about it. It's their world, and I’m only a distant observer. 

Most of the time we are normal, at least 60% of the time. We even celebrate Carnival, even if my father is not very fond of it. It's just these weird religious moments that make me wish that my family could be normal all the time. 

@ariel-seagull-wings @thealmightyemprex @the-blue-fairie @mask131 @princesssarisa @tamisdava2

[passionateabteverything]

Good Omens Wild West Headcanons

Based on my cosplays of both Crowley's fem and masc forms

Crowley and Aziraphale head over to America for a couple years on a little "vacation" just to see how the "new world" has been doing since all those years

Crowley quickly becomes a bandit because spreading terror and mischief is exactly his brand of demonism, although he has a peculiar way of doing so

He has a gun but it's only there for decorative purposes, though he has accidentally fired another while staying in America

Crowley's main form of terrorism (apart from the occasional robberies) is untying horses from their reins so that their owners have to run after them (he takes much delight in this absolutely devious crime)

(He also does this cuz he hates the fkn animals)

His bandit name is The Red-Bellied Bandit (a reference to his snake form) and he becomes sort of famous—he's been banned from a few towns, more on that later

One night, while Crowley is doing his Evil Deeds, one of the horses he unleashes bolts onto a renowned criminal that was robbing the town's bank and harming the citizens, ultimately incapacitating the criminal in his escape

The townspeople who saw it happen believed it was Crowley's attempt at stopping the criminal and as a token of gratitude, they elect him sheriff

Crowley agrees cuz government officials are the most corrupt therefore it makes sense that he, a demon, would take on such a role

But in reality, he just wants to keep the townspeople safe cuz he got attached to them

At some point, the town's saloon needs a new owner and Crowley decides to try his hand at business owning (bcuz there is nth more evil than customer service, especially in such a sinful establishment like a saloon where booze, lust, greed, and wrath are involved)

Thus, fem-presenting Crowley manages the saloon she names Eden (totally not as a form of therapy where she can exert her authority over a secluded environment and banish those she deems unworthy, not at all–)

Crowley is then sheriff by day and saloon owner by night

The townspeople believe the sheriff has a twin sister who owns the saloon but they've never actually seen the two siblings at the same place at the same time...

Crowley's saloon is a hit what with great showgirl performances, good music and alcohol

Meanwhile, Aziraphale has been doing his Good Angel Stuff, helping people around, hanging out with vagrant authors like Walt Whitman and Herman Melville

He enjoys visiting Crowley's saloon and soon gets permission to perform there as well

Aziraphale puts on a showgirl magic act while fem-presenting

Any hecklers (or admirers) are forthwith removed from the premises never to be seen again, much to the angel's ignorance

The townspeople see how often masc-presenting Aziraphale visits Crowley's saloon and assume the sheriff's sister is having an affair with the bizarre englishman because have you seen the way they look at one another? And they sometimes share bottles of wine on the upper floor alone—how scandalous!

But the englishman's affection is very clearly directed toward the sheriff as well—but that's impossible for it would be sacrilegious otherwise...

Now remember how Crowley accidentally fired a gun during his banditing? What happened was he accidentally pulled the trigger of a bandit's gun he had confiscated (because his own gun doesn't have any bullets of course)

the bullet ricocheted through the entire town, causing signs to fall, horses to run off, the water cistern spilling, a fire starting, etc.

Because of the utter chaos, Crowley was banned from the town, and neighboring towns as well

This is the one act that made The Red-Bellied Bandit a name worth remembering

Crowley sometimes chills in the desert in his snake form to feel like a true predator in the wild

(He doesn't do it often cuz he gets scared of getting pecked on by a roadrunner)

He loves rattlesnakes and thinks it's so cool they get an instrument attached to them

Crowley is most excited when the railway gets installed in America because it means he doesn't have to struggle with horseback riding anymore

He also spends some time with inventors such as Graham Bell and Thomas Edison (he shares some of his inventor-expertise with them)

Thats all I have for now, please add on any headcanons you have!

[garuda4321]

Blood on the clocktower, a game where Garuda needs to realize more often than not he is correct and act on it.

Ran three games with some coworkers and friends today. I was a good player in all of them. (Slayer 1, Tea Lady 2, Empath 3). For those unaware of what those do, a brief breakdown. The slayer is a good character who has one chance to shoot the demon per game, not per night. The Tea Lady has her two alive neighbors be invincible if both are good (they can’t die but the tea lady herself can). The empath learns how many of their alive neighbors are evil (0-2).

Game 1: I am a slayer. We go through things and Player A decides to say “I’m the poisoner, I’m claiming B is a damsel” which would have resulted in an evil win. Poisoner makes it so a role is null and void (same with drunk, drunk is just good alignment versus evil alignment). I knew the poisoner was poisoning me (I was the biggest threat to the demon after all) so I went for it anyways. I targeted C (the demon) and failed because my role is null and void, doubly so now that I’ve used it. Evil won because I couldn’t figure out it was C but should have taken out A faster.

Game 2: Tea Lady. This one… requires more explanation due to house rules, specifically “rule 1”. See, we have a player (D) that refuses to ever talk to me basically and as a result, I nominate them if I can’t learn anything after day 1. If I learn nothing from them, we go by rule 1 and try to eliminate them. Mind you, as a tea lady, if they’re both good they can’t die. E is my other neighbor and claims gossip (they can make a gossip and if true someone dies). So I have a chat with D and E. E claims gossip and D merely tells me “I’m good”. I can’t exactly TRUST that without revealing my role. Mind you, we have two minions this round. A and F. Previous round was a minion and demon. The reason for two minions is because the demon is the “lil’ monsta”. Lil monsta is basically “minions nominate who babysits the demon token and people may or may not die”. At one point A and B get D to have the demon token. D tells NO ONE. G is also evil but is inconsequential because it made no difference in judgement. So we can’t eliminate D because D and E are good and I’m a tea lady. Turns out that F had it when we eliminated E the last night because no one believed they were the gossip because “only one kill registered” meaning the demon attacked and the gossip failed. (The gossip got me and the demon did nothing). So now evil is 2-0 and my solving skills are sort of 2-0 (I figured out A was evil both times, B flew under my radar entirely)

Game 3: Empath. I know this one best because I had this one nailed so I’ll ditch the letters because I remember everyone’s roles. I, the Empath was next to the damsel on my right (A). Next to the damsel is the demon (B) Yagglebabble (say a phrase to score a hit, multiple sayings of said phrase means multiple possible hits). Next to them is the Poisoner (G). Then we have the Professor (D). Professor, if alive, can resurrect a deceased player. We have then the Chef who I haven’t talked about even though I should have because I picked them instead of the demon in game 1 due to not figuring it out. Anyways, chef starts by learning how many evil pairs there are (evil next to evil). And next to our chef was our Slayer (C). I start knowing how many living neighbors are evil. I got a 0. Talked to both of them. I get told that the damsel is the damsel and that the slayer is the slayer. Naturally, off the damsel before they’re found by a minion. So round one the damsel pretends to be the empath and claims I’m evil with a 1. This was true except that we didn’t know that at the time and I reflected that he was being nuts. I couldn’t muster enough votes and so we enacted rule 1 which offed the professor. It would really help if the professor TALKED to us. Moving on, I find the chef and learn there is an evil pair (poisoner and yagglebabble are next to each other). I don’t know who but it leaves two options in my head assuming I’m not poisoned. Professor Poisoner (at the time it wasn’t known the professor was the professor because they don’t tell anyone anything) and Poisoner Yagglebabble. We nominate the Damsel and succeed. Night 3, chef dies so no real loss (it’s a once per game ability unlike Empath). I get poisoned and told 0. Great, verifies the Yagglebabble is the monk like they said… slayer aims at the poisoner and nothing happens. Instantly my head realizes that it has to be the Yagglebabble. As I’m explaining this, I get told by the damsel (who has more experienced with this game than I do) that we should not nominate because then if the Yagglebabble gets a single hit plus the nomination evil wins. So we don’t nominate because why chance it? Yagglebabble got two hits and won.

I swear I’m good at solving this game when I’m good. I just don’t have the experience to trust it and there are some players that attend that are also really good and usually talk me out of trusting myself… I should learn to not trust them maybe…

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible by J.R. Miller

Looking One’s Soul in the Face

"The human heart is most deceitful and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?" – Jeremiah 17:9

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way." – Psalms 139:23-24

It takes courage to pray this prayer, “Search me, O God, and know my heart!” Not all men can do it. Many people fear to look into their own heart. If by some divine revealing, we were made to see ourselves as we are all the evil that is in us, our face would blanch into deathly paleness. It takes courage to ask God to search one’s inner life and show one one’s sins.

It takes honesty, too, to pray this prayer. The poet meant that every wrong thing found in his heart, under the clear light of God’s Spirit, he would cast out. Some people do not want to find their own sins because they do not want to give them up. They do not wish to discover their secret faults, because they love them and desire to keep them. We cannot pray this prayer if we are not ready and willing and eager to have Christ save us from whatever evil way, whatever sinful habit, feeling, disposition, or temper we may discover in ourselves. It takes honesty, therefore, and sincerity, to pray God to search us.

The writer asks God to search him. He does not say he will search himself. An ancient maxim was, “Know yourself.” But no man can really know himself, in the depths of his being unless God holds the lamp to shine in the darkness. God is light. Christ is the world’s only light. None but God can truly search us and show us to ourselves. The poet invites divine searching .

Neither does he ask his neighbors to search his ways and thoughts. Men are willing enough, ofttimes, to judge their fellow men, to find and expose their faults, to proclaim their sins. It is easier to confess other people’s sins than one’s own. The Pharisee was quite free in searching the publican and declaring his wrongdoings, though he saw no faults and sins in himself! The poet might have found men who would be willing to search him and try him and point out his blemishes and his wicked ways. But this, he did not ask. Men’s judgments are imperfect. Sometimes they are uncharitable, even unjust. There are lives that go down under men's condemnation, whom love would have saved. At the best, men are only ignorant or partial judges. They cannot see our motives and ofttimes they condemn as evil that which is noble and beautiful, and approved as right and praiseworthy, that which before God is unworthy and sinful. It is not enough for us to ask men to search us and try us, to say to a friend, “Tell me of my faults and blemishes, that I may put them away.”

Dr. Stalker tells the story of a young composer whose work was being performed in a great music hall. A throng was listening and applauding. But the young man seemed to be indifferent to all these tokens of approval. All the while his eye was fixed on one man who sat at the center of the hall. This was his old master, and the musician cared more for his opinion than for that of the thousands of other listeners; and was thrilled more by his faintest look or gesture of approval, than by all the thunderous cheers of the throng.

It matters very little to us what men may say either in praise or in blame of our conduct, or our deeds. But there is One who sits at the center of all things, who is perfect in wisdom, love, and righteousness, and whose judgments are unerring. We should want always to know what He thinks of our acts, words, dispositions, and thoughts. Though all the world applauds what we do, if on His face there is no pleasure, if we see there the shadow of disapprobation, what a mockery is men’s applause! On the other hand, if the world sneers, condemns, and blames; if men have for us only scorn, reproach, and persecution; and if, meanwhile, turning our eyes toward the heavenly throne, we see in the divine face the smile of pleasure and approval, what need we care for either the favors or the frowns of men? It is to God we should turn for the searching of our lives. No other judgment will avail.

It is better and safer always, to fall into the hands of God, than into the hands of men. God is kindlier and juster than men. Nobody understands you as God does. Nobody knows your infirmities and has such patience with them as God has. He knows our frame. He remembers that we are dust. He understands our weakness. He knows human life this blessed Lord of ours by actual human experience. He knows all the elements that enter into human struggle, and, therefore, is fitted for sympathy. We never need be afraid to open our heart to Him, for He will never be unjust with us. We never need be afraid to ask Him to search us, for if we truly want to give up our sins when we discover them we shall find Him most merciful and gracious.

It will be worth our while to think seriously of the things in us that only God can see. There are sins which are hidden from ourselves, of which our conscience is not aware our unwitting, unknown errors the evil in us which lies too deep to be discovered. There is a SELF in us, which even we ourselves do not see. There are depths of our being, into which our own eyes cannot pierce. Even our own knowledge of ourselves, is not final. You may say that you know of no sins, errors, or faults in yourself, and you may be sincere; still this is not evidence that you are sinless.

In one of his epistles Paul says, “I know nothing against myself.” He was not living in the practice of any sin, so far as he knew. He did no wrong thing willingly and knowingly. He cherished no secret sin. Every fault he discovered, he put away. He knew nothing against himself. But he added, “Yet am I not hereby justified; but he who judges me is the Lord.” The bar of conscience in our own breast, is not the final court. It is not enough to have the approval of our own heart. There are errors and evils in the holiest life on earth which only God’s eye can detect. We must ask God to search us, if we would be made absolutely clean. God knows all our past. We do not. There is much that we have forgotten. The memory of many of our deeds has faded out. But God has forgotten nothing. Our forgetting our sins does not blot them out. The evil things we do not remember, are there yet.

We cannot see our own faults even as our neighbors can see them. There is wisdom in the wish that we might see ourselves, as others see us for it would free us from many a blunder and foolish notion. We are prejudiced in our own favor. We are disposed to be charitable toward our own shortcomings. We make all sorts of allowances for our own faults. We are wonderfully patient with our own weaknesses. We are blind to our own blemishes. We look at our own good qualities through magnifying glasses; and at our faults and errors with lenses reversed making them appear very small. We see only the best of ourselves. If you were to meet yourself on the street some morning that is, the person God sees you to be you would probably not recognize yourself!

We remember the little story that the prophet Nathan told King David, about a rich man’s injustice toward a poor man, and how David’s anger flamed up. “This man must die!” cried the king. He did not recognize himself in the man he so despised, until Nathan quietly said, “You are the man!”

We are all too much like David.

If the true chronicle of your life were written in a book, in the form of a story, and you were to read the chapters over you probably would not identify the story as your own! We do not know our real self. We do not imagine there is so much about us that is morally ugly and foul, that is positively wicked. But God searches the innermost things of our life!

God sees into the future and knows where the subtle tendencies of our life are leading us. We do many things which to our own eyes, appear innocent and harmless but which have in them a hidden evil tendency which some day will come to ripeness. We indulge ourselves in many things which may not appear sinful but which leave on our soul a touch of blight, a soiling of purity. We permit ourselves to grow into a hundred little habits, in which we see no danger but which meanwhile are weaving their fine gossamer threads into a net for our souls, or twisting their invisible filaments into a rope which some day will bind us hand and foot! We spare ourselves little self-denials, thinking there is no reason why we should make them, not aware that we are neglecting God-given duties, and refusing to take up crosses laid at our feet by the Master, thus failing in complete faithfulness. We form friendships which become very dear to us but which insidiously harm us, weakening our life’s purpose or drawing us away from God.

The peril in all these things, lies not so much in the mere acts or indulgences of the hour as in the things to which they will lead. We have no eyes to see the hidden danger in these “no harms” in our life but God detects the peril, and sees what the end will be.

A popular writer tells the story of a dream which a man had. He had left his English home and was in India. He had done many things which would have pained his mother’s heart, if she had known of them. One night he dreamed that he saw a drunken man enter his room. As the moonlight fell on the man’s face, making every feature visible, a terror more terrible than mortal had ever known before seized upon the dreamer. He saw that the face was his own but marked and scarred with the furrows of disease and much evil-doing white, drawn, and grown old. It was a glimpse of what he was coming to, if he did not quickly change his wrong course.

There is another kind of hidden faults. There are things in many of us, no doubt, which we regard among our strong points, certainly fair and commendable traits or qualities which in God’s eye are sore blemishes! Good and evil in certain qualities, lie not far apart. It is easy for devotion to principle a good thing; to take the form of obstinacy a very unlovely thing. It is not hard for zeal for orthodoxy, to pass into intolerance and bigotry. Self-respect, consciousness of ability, easily degenerate into prideful self-conceit. Gentleness readily becomes weakness .

A man may be giving his life, in the larger sense, to the work of Christ, doing great things for the church while in his own home, with those nearest to him, he is living like a beast! We see this kind of fault cropping out in our neighbor’s character and life, and we say, “What a pity so fine a character is so marred!” Yes, and our neighbor looks at us, and says, “What a pity that with so many excellences, he has these blemishes and faults!” Sin is deceitful.

The substance of all this is, that besides the evil which others see in us, and which we see in ourselves; all of us have undiscovered errors and faults which only God can see!

We ought never to shrink from learning our faults. He is a coward who does. Moreover, he is making a fearful mistake, who blinds himself to the faults in his own heart and life. He is refusing to see a danger which by and by, may work his ruin! Every true man should be glad always to learn of any hidden fault he has.

Ruskin says, “Count yourself richer that day you discover a new fault in yourself; not richer because it is there but richer because it is no longer a hidden fault! And if you have not found all your faults, pray to have them revealed to you, even if the revelation must come in a way that hurts your pride!”

Secret, undiscovered faults are more perilous than discovered faults. Open sins are enemies in the field, undisguised, recognized as enemies. Hidden faults are enemies concealed, traitors in our camp, passing for friends! No godly, true, and brave man will permit a discovered sin or fault to stay in his life. He will fight it to the death. But his undiscovered sin or fault, lurks and nests in his heart while he knows it not, and breeds its evil in his very soul! Before he is aware of its presence it may eat out the very heart of his life and poison the springs of his being!

A fire broke out in a large storage building in the morning but it had been smouldering all night, and, undiscovered, eating its way among the bales, so that when discovered the whole interior was a mass of fire, and there was only the shell of the building left. Just so, hidden faults destroy lives, and none but God knows the destruction that is going on until the fatal ruin is wrought. We ought to pray God continually, to search us, and save us from undiscovered sins .

Hidden faults in us will hinder our spiritual growth. They also make us unfit for God’s work. When Canova, the sculptor, was about to begin his statue of Napoleon, his keen eye saw a tiny reddish tinge in the upper part of the splendid block of marble out of which he was to hew the statue. The stone had been brought at great expense from Paris. Common eyes saw no flaw in the stone but the sculptor saw it, and the stone was rejected.

May it not be so ofttimes, with lives which face great opportunities? God’s eye detects in them some undiscovered flaw, or fault, some tiny tinge of marring color. God desires truth in the inward parts. The life must be pure and white throughout. He who cherishes a secret sin is balking God’s purpose in himself. God cannot use him for the noble task or service. Because of the secret sin he is rejected.

Are we ready to make the prayer for divine searching ? Are we willing to have God search us and find every secret, hidden sin in us? Are we willing for Him to go down into our heart, among our thoughts and affections and desires, and find and reveal to us every way of wickedness He discovers? Then are we willing to give up, tear out, and cast away forever from us, everything that God finds that is not holy?

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way!”

[marlsbys-dragons]

This! So much this.

I try not to get into political rants on here, but I know I've failed a few times, and it's usually about this point. You get to be angry, you get to be upset, you get to disagree and be disgusted and dismayed.

America as it stands is a deeply broken system, the two party structure and the electoral college are both undemocratic. They need to change, and that will not happen without anger and the concerted voices and effort of the people.

This is why you vote ideals in primaries.

However, by the same token, giving in to the anger and the urge to not engage with the entire system can be extremely damaging when it comes to general, final elections. I know it chafes to work within the structure you're trying to dismantle, but the plain truth, as I see it, is that refusal is essentially ceding control to the opposition.

Vote Blue No Matter Who and similar slogans aren't trying to tell you that it's traitorous or stupid or whatever to be angry, to vote for political outsiders, radicals, third parties and independents. They're trying to tell you that every vote counts, and not recognizing nuance and the extreme tangible differences between the two parties forced upon us risks the greater of two evils winning and taking almost every possible chance of positive change away from us, maybe forever.

When you vote in a general election, you're not voting for you and your own ideals. You're voting for your friends, family, neighbors, enemies, future generations, voting to give them the hope of a future where they don't have to make the choices we do.

Getting do caught up in the current injustice and losing all nuance, collapsing the world into a binary black and white inevitably divides people, because without nuance every difference becomes not an opportunity for growth, learning, and compromise, but an attack made by a multitude of newfound enemies who in reality want a world very similar to yours, and a chance to work together for something everyone can be happy, safe, and prosperous in.

2024 isn't even here yet, and we're already screaming at each other about presidential elections and how you shouldn't compromise or you should compromise or your third party vote counts or doesn't, and, as usual, forgetting that there are both primary and general elections and they work differently.

ALWAYS:

Vote your IDEALS in the primaries

Vote DAMAGE CONTROL in the general

(I'm so tired)

[draftedpage]

Of Prayers and Ash

Apparently I have the attention span of a koala, so here's this. A slowburn romance, between a knight, and a healer who's forced to accompany him on his journey to the war torn countryside

I open my eyes. 

It’s still dark in the room, though the faint trails of lanternlight trickle in from the street below, flickering softly across the ceiling in shifting bands of amber. The air hums with the quiet sounds of a city that never truly sleeps—wheels creaking against cobblestone, the steady clop of horseshoes, a distant shout that fades before I can make out the words. 

The scent of cedar clings to the floorboards, warped from years of candle smoke and rain that sneaks in through the shutter gaps. Underneath it all, something earthy and faintly sour lingers, street rot, maybe, or the neighbor’s strange cooking again. 

I lie still for a while, listening. 

The gods do not speak in voices here. Not like they used to. They speak through the stories told by firelight, or in the prayers my grandmother whispered while kneading bread. In the city, the gods have been buried beneath stone, silver, and law. Forgotten. Until only statues remain, hollow-eyed and clean of memory. 

I sit up slowly, my sweat sticking to the back of my knees, soaking my spine in the summer heat. My little altar waits in the corner by the window, tucked behind a faded tapestry. Three worn tokens rest there: a smooth statue, a sprig of dried rosemary, and an old coin etched with a sigil no priest would recognize. 

I light a candle, not the ones blessed by the Temple, but the ones I make myself. Beeswax, cloves, a single strand of black thread wrapped around the base. The flame flickers, and for a breath, it feels like someone is watching. 

I lower my head. 

Twelve words. Always the same. Always enough. 

"Let no one see me, and let the path be mine."  

I lift my head to the small, gilded statue. A pantheon we didn’t have a name for anymore. Whether they were good or evil I couldn’t say. The rough edges of stone long worn smooth.  

I can’t remember when this fixation began. Maybe in childhood. Maybe it was carved into me in the womb. I wasn’t sure—yet, for as long as I could remember, I prayed.   

The distinct sounds of metal clink below me. My grandmother up as early as I was, maybe I had gotten my early bird tendencies from her.  

Reluctantly I rise. My knees a flushed red, softly indented from the worn wood floor. The morning aches already settling in my bones. Nevertheless, I stretch and prepare for the day, the work still needing done despite my disinclination for it. 

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. The light is dim, but enough to see the shape of myself. Pale from too many hours indoors, freckles dance across the bridge of my nose. My hair’s come loose from its braid, dark, unruly, curled tight like it never learned to obey. 

I’ve always been too slim, too tall, not quite right for the city’s taste. My mouth too soft-spoken. My hands too calloused from work the daughters of tradesmen aren’t supposed to do. I’ve been told I look tired even when I’m rested, serious even when I smile. Maybe that’s true.  

I keep walking. Not because I hate what I see, but because that’s what my grandmother taught me. 

Never stare too long at your reflections, she’d say. That’s where your demons hide—wouldn’t want them escaping now, would you? 

I pull open the door, the dark mahogany creaking softly—showing its age. 

My father had carved it from a felled tree, back when this place was still a town and not yet the pulsing heart of an empire. He spent hours with a blade and chisel, coaxing delicate designs from the grain. Pretty things. Trees with outstretched branches. Flowers that never wilted. Swirling vines that looped and danced like they had secrets to tell. 

The kind of beauty no one had time for anymore. 

I run my fingers along the carvings, tracing a petal worn smooth from years of touch. The wood is cool beneath my skin. A small comfort.  

He never finished the bottom corner, had said he’d do it next spring. Then spring turned into war, and war turned into death. 

I let my hand fall away. 

The hinges groan as I open it wider, and the hall yawns before me, dim, cracked tile beneath my feet, old paint chipping at the edges. My grandmother’s kitchen clinks faintly with the sound's movement and metal. The scent of boiling roots and roasted barley creeps through the air, the sharp tang of yeast pricks my senses.  

“Good morning,” I murmur, stepping into the blistering heat of the kitchen. The summer air, thick and unmoving, mixes with the warmth of the oven to create something almost unbearable. Sweat beads along my hairline within seconds, prickling beneath my collar. 

My grandmother stands at the counter, already elbow-deep in dough. A sturdy woman well into her sixties, her greying hair is pulled back into a tight braid, gold bangles woven between the strands—remnants of a culture long washed away, but still clung to in the quiet corners of our home. 

Her deep brown eyes don’t lift as I approach, but I offer anyway, voice soft. “Let me take over the kneading.” 

She doesn’t offer a smile, only nods in quiet acceptance, then turns away to the other counter, where bowls and spices wait for her hands. The rhythm of morning work continues without fanfare. 

I dip my hands into the cool barrel of water beside the hearth, letting it rush over my fingers, washing away the fine dust and sleep still clinging beneath my nails. The contrast is sharp—cold water to blistering air. 

Once I’m satisfied, I press my knuckles into the soft mound of dough. It yields under my touch, still warm but beginning to cool, its surface dusted with flour and the faint scent of anise and barley. The motion is grounding. Familiar. This, at least, I know how to do. 

We work in tandem silence. The only sounds are the steady beat of her knife against the cutting board and the soft squelch of dough beneath my hands. 

Sunlight begins to bleed into the kitchen, slipping through the open shutters in golden streaks. Outside, the city begins to stir in earnest. 

The hum of morning swells—vendors calling out in rough voices, hooves clattering over brick, a tin bell clanging somewhere in the distance. Through it all, the laughter of children rises and falls as they chase each other down the sweltering road, already slick with heat. 

“Oh, Lili,” the childhood nickname falls from her lips. Familiar. Warm.  “A letter arrived for you today. Looks official.” 

I glance up from my work, the dough already shaped into small, biscuit-sized circles. I tip my head, brow furrowed.  “A letter? From who?” 

“Doesn’t say. But it’s on the table.” She nods toward the far corner, where—indeed—a letter waits. 

A crisp white envelope. No return mark. Just my name, Liora, scrawled across the front in uneven handwriting. The letters slant awkwardly, like someone trying too hard to write neatly. 

On the back, a deep red wax seal presses against the fold. The sigil is unfamiliar—something sharp and curling, like a thorn wrapped in flame. 

I slide a finger under the flap, snapping the seal clean in half. Inside: a single piece of parchment. 

“Dear Liora, 

You are being summoned to support the military in their battle in the north.

You will be compensated handsomely for your time and dedication to this task. 

Captain Garrik Fenlor will arrive at your residence shortly. 

Signed, 

Lord Fenlor” 

I stare at the letter. 

One second. 

Then two. 

I feel my grandmother press into my shoulder, reading over it with me. Her grip tightens—firm, trembling fingers digging in. Her silence says more than words ever could. 

Then, finally, she speaks. 

“You cannot go,” she whispers, voice frayed at the edges. 

“Gran,” I whisper back, trying to sound steady. “He’s a lord. I can’t refuse.” 

A knock sounds at the door. Sharp. Immediate. 

I nearly jump out of my skin. 

Whoever it is doesn’t bother waiting for a reply. The door swings open like he owns the place—like he’s paying rent and we’re just squatting. 

The audacity. 

My irritation fizzles the moment I see him. 

Hard to stay mad at someone so... startling. 

He’s tall—too tall for the frame of the door, which he barely ducks beneath. His eyes, a cold, piercing blue, find mine almost instantly. I tense. The letter in my hand trembles, and only then do I realize I’m shaking. 

His gaze flicks to the parchment. 

“I see you received notice from my family,” he says. 

His voice matches the rest of him—rough, low, and edged like a blade. His dark hair is neatly cut, slightly too long to be military, yet precise in its own way. His jaw is clenched, like the very act of breathing offends him. Scars mark his arms and neck, pale against sun-dark skin—worn like armor, or maybe trophies. 

Everything about him screams danger. 

And yet, I can’t look away. 

“Uh...” I manage, brilliance incarnate. 

“Does she speak,” he asks dryly, “or is she always this stupid?” 

He doesn’t even look at me now—just turns to my grandmother, as if I’m the accessory in this room. 

Heat floods my cheeks. 

“No,” I snap. “She speaks. Unfortunately, I cannot accept your family's generous offer.” 

“It wasn’t an offer.” 

“Well, I’m not going.” I cross my arms, incredulous. “I’m needed here. In town.” 

“Either you go,” he says, voice like stone, “or I condemn this... hovel, and you can live the rest of your days disgraced.” 

I stare at him. Shocked. Furious. Angrier than I’ve ever been in my life. 

“No,” I hiss. “Tell your pretentious family I’m not going. You’ll have to find a different healer.” 

He steps closer. 

My breath catches. Instinct screams at me to move—to run—but I don’t. I hold my ground. Barely. My knees threaten to tremble, but I lock them in place. 

He leans down, until his face is inches from mine. 

Those cold, glacier-blue eyes skim over my features with absolute disinterest. 

“Here’s the thing, princess,” he says, and the word lands like a slap—dripping with insult. 

“I don’t want you tagging along any more than you want to come. But we’re both bound by things that go beyond duty.” 

His voice is low. Unyielding. No trace of warmth. 

Not a threat. 

A truth. 

My grandmother’s hand clamps around my bicep, tight. Like she thinks she might lose me if she lets go. 

“Please,” she whispers, voice breaking. “The northern border is only war and monsters. She is not fit to go.” 

Her fear is real. Raw. It wraps around my ribs, constricting. 

But his gaze doesn’t waver. Doesn’t flick to her. Doesn’t soften. Not even a little. 

“She must,” he says. 

Then he straightens, cold and deliberate, steps back. 

His eyes pass over my grandmother, briefly, like a soldier noting a closed door—then he turns and walks out. 

No further argument. 

No apology. 

No explanation. 

Just the sound of boots fading into the hallway. 

I stand there for a beat too long, heat rising in my chest. Then I turn on my heel and storm up the stairs, boots heavy on the wood. 

Gran follows. I hear her trailing behind me, her footsteps hurried, her voice unraveling. 

“Please. LiLi, you cannot go.” She’s breathless. Shaking. “I lost your father to war. I will not lose you too.” 

I don’t turn around.  I can’t. 

“You heard him,” I say, my voice rough. “Either I go, or we lose everything.” 

My hands tremble as I reach for my travel bag, shoving in tunics and a cloak. I try not to think. Try not to feel. 

By the window, my shrine waits. I hesitate. Then I reach for the worn statue, its surface smooth from years of prayer, and tuck it carefully between two layers of cloth. 

The cabinet creaks as I open it—familiar bundles of herbs, tied in fading string. I grab what little I have. Healing roots. Bandages. Salve. Enough to keep someone alive. Maybe. 

Behind me, Gran falls silent. 

She knows she can’t stop this. 

Not when a noble has decreed it. 

She just stands there. 

Watching me leave.  

My eyes burn as I step past her. I don’t look. 

I can’t. If I do, I won’t go. 

I’ll choose ruin. I’ll choose the street. I’ll choose anything but this. 

So I keep my gaze straight, cold and forward, like he did. 

Like I’m not breaking. 

The bag’s strap digs into my shoulder. It’s heavier than I expected. Or maybe I’m just tired—already. And I haven’t even left yet. 

I step outside. 

The heat of the city wraps around me, heavy and still. Down the alley, a vendor argues with a cart driver. Somewhere, a child laughs. Somewhere else, someone weeps. 

And there he is. 

Garrik. 

Leaning against the wall. One boot braced against the wall, arms crossed, like he owns the whole godsdamned street. Like this is nothing more than an inconvenience to him. 

His eyes find me instantly. 

He doesn’t smile. 

“About time,” he says. 

I say nothing. I don’t trust my voice not to crack. 

He gestures sharply to a chestnut-colored horse to my right. “Mount up.” 

And that’s it. No farewell. No escort. No final word from Gran. Just me and the man who barged into my life like a blade. 

And now I’m expected to follow him into the North. 

Where war and monsters wait. 

[flowersofmarietta]

The Beauty and Tradition of Corsages in Sandy Springs

The Tradition and Meaning Behind Corsages

The tradition of wearing corsages dates back to ancient Greece, where flowers were worn as symbols of protection against evil spirits. Over time, the practice evolved, and in the modern era, corsages have become a staple for weddings, dances, and milestone celebrations. In Sandy Springs, the use of corsages remains deeply ingrained in the culture, with many people turning to local florists to craft personalized arrangements for their events.

Corsages are more than just decorative accessories. Each bloom, leaf, and ribbon tells a story, representing beauty, grace, and a connection to nature. Whether it's a young woman attending her prom or a mother of the bride at her daughter's wedding, a corsage is often given as a token of appreciation and love. A professional flower shop in Roswell can help in selecting the perfect flowers that best reflect the occasion and the personality of the wearer.

Choosing the Perfect Corsage

Selecting the right Corsages in Sandy Springs for an event is an art in itself. There are numerous factors to consider, such as the event's formality, the wearer's outfit, and the symbolic meaning of the flowers. Florists in Sandy Springs understand these intricacies and can guide customers through the process of selecting a corsage that complements the occasion.

The color palette is one of the most important aspects of choosing a corsage. For instance, red roses symbolize love and passion, while white lilies represent purity and elegance. If you're looking for something more subtle, pastel shades or soft hues like lavender or peach may be the perfect choice. Aflower shop in Roswell can provide a wide variety of options to ensure that the corsage matches the wearer’s personal style.

Another factor to consider is the type of arrangement. Wrist corsages are popular for prom-goers, as they allow the wearer to move freely without worrying about their outfit being damaged. Pin-on corsages, on the other hand, are more traditional and are often chosen for weddings or other formal gatherings. No matter the occasion, a carefully crafted corsage from an experienced florist in Sandy Springs will undoubtedly enhance the event.

Where to Find the Best Corsages in Sandy Springs

The key to finding exquisite corsages lies in selecting a florist who has a deep understanding of floral design and a passion for the art of crafting personalized arrangements. In Sandy Springs, many local florists offer custom corsages made from fresh, high-quality flowers. These floral experts are adept at creating arrangements that cater to your specific preferences, whether you're looking for something modern and minimalist or more traditional and intricate.

For those in neighboring areas, a flower shop in Roswell can also be an excellent choice. The short distance between Roswell and Sandy Springs allows for a seamless experience, where customers can easily consult with experienced florists about their corsage needs. Roswell's florists pride themselves on their ability to deliver elegant and personalized floral designs, ensuring that each corsage is a work of art.

When selecting a corsage, it’s crucial to choose flowers that are in season, as they will be at their freshest and most vibrant. Florists in both Sandy Springs and Roswell offer a wide selection of seasonal blooms, from classic roses and orchids to more unique options like ranunculus or peonies, depending on the time of year.

The Importance of Customization

While pre-made corsages are an option, many people prefer customized arrangements to better reflect their personal style or the significance of the event. Florists in Sandy Springs take great care in crafting bespoke corsages that incorporate the wearer’s favorite flowers, colors, and even fragrances. This attention to detail ensures that the corsage not only looks beautiful but also holds sentimental value.

Similarly, a reputable flower shop in Roswell will work closely with clients to create unique designs tailored to their needs. Whether you’re attending a school dance, preparing for a wedding, or celebrating an anniversary, the ability to customize your corsage allows you to add a personal touch to your special day.

The Timeless Appeal of Corsages in Modern Events

In today's fast-paced world, it can be easy to overlook the importance of small traditions like wearing a corsage. However, in places like Sandy Springs, these traditions are cherished and passed down through generations. Corsages add a touch of elegance and grace to any occasion, reminding us to pause and appreciate the beauty of life’s milestones.

Weddings, in particular, are incomplete without corsages for the mothers of the bride and groom, grandmothers, and other important family members. Similarly, prom-goers in Sandy Springs continue to embrace the tradition of exchanging corsages and boutonnieres as a symbol of friendship and affection. The local flower shop in Roswell also plays a vital role in keeping this tradition alive, offering a wide selection of flowers that cater to various tastes and occasions.

[artisanteseo]

Have You Tried The Diwali Gift Box Suggestion From Artisante Yet?

Exchanging gift boxes during Diwali is a time-honored tradition that holds cultural, social, and symbolic significance. Here are some reasons why gift boxes are given during Diwali:

Expressing Good Wishes : Diwali is a festival that symbolizes the triumph of light over darkness and good over evil. Exchanging gift boxes is a way of expressing good wishes for prosperity, happiness, and success in the coming year.

Symbol of Affection and Gratitude : Giving and receiving gifts during Diwali is a gesture of affection, love, and gratitude. It reinforces the importance of relationships and the joy of sharing blessings with family, friends, and neighbors.

Tradition of Giving : Diwali is a time when people traditionally give and receive gifts as a token of appreciation and celebration. It has become a cultural practice deeply ingrained in the Diwali festivities.

Promoting Unity and Harmony : Exchanging gifts fosters a sense of unity and harmony within communities. It strengthens social bonds and creates a positive atmosphere of sharing and caring.

Auspicious Beginnings : The act of giving gifts during Diwali is considered auspicious. It is believed to bring good fortune and positive energy to both the giver and the receiver.

Spreading Joy and Happiness :Diwali is a time of joy and celebration. Gift boxes filled with sweets, goodies, and thoughtful items add to the festive spirit and bring happiness to those receiving them.

Acknowledging Relationships :Diwali gift boxes often reflect an acknowledgment of the importance of relationships. It's a way of saying "thank you" to those who have been a part of one's life.

Overall, Diwali gift boxes contribute to the positive and festive atmosphere of the occasion, embodying the spirit of sharing, joy, and goodwill. Below are some gift box options from artisante you can explore for making your Diwali moments special. Diwali Gift Box Options By Artisante :

Are you a sweet tooth, then below are the sweet suggestions you can explore of Artisante which are as follows :

Flavor Of India Gift Box

This gift box highlights chocolate bars and hot chocolate inspired by traditional Indian flavours and festivals. Saffron, Pistachios, and our favourite 'chai' spices feature in various forms across this selection. The perfect gift bix which contains Holi, White Chocolate with Delicate ‘Gulabi’ Rose Petals, Green Roasted Pistachios and sprinkles of Pink Salt x 1. Rajputana, Milk Chocolate with our in house Royal Chai blend of Indian spices, Cardamom, Ginger, Black Pepper and Star Anise, laced with Saffron threads x 1, Diwali Milk Chocolate with Saffron Threads and Delicately Roasted Pistachios x 1. Kaaju, Milk Chocolate, paired with caramelized cashew brittle and a delicate sprinkling of cardamon. x 1. And if you wish to try this diwali gift box set of 6 then you can find it at buy dark chocolate online india

Gift Box Of 18 Mini Chocolates

A tasting gift box of our entire range of miniature's ranging from Santorini, Dark 65% with Olive Oil, Rosemary, Sea Salt, Purple Haze, Ruby Chocolate with Blueberry, Cranberry, Cold Brew, Dark 65% with Coffee, Hazelnuts, Amore, Milk Chocolate with Strawberry. Midnight, Dark 70% with Mint, Zest, Dark 70% with Orange Peel, Almonds, Sao Thome, Single Origin, Dark 70% with Orange Peel, Madagascar, Single Origin Dark 67%. Ecuador, Single Origin Dark 70% with Roasted Hazelnuts, Botanist Dark 70% with Lavender, Diwali Milk Chocolate with Pista, Saffron, Fruit & Nut, Milk Chocolate with Almond, Hazelnut, Cranberry, Rajputana, Milk Chocolate with Royal Chai Mix, Saffron. Toffee & Nut, Milk Chocolate with Almond, English Toffee, Vanilla Latte, Milk Chocolate with Espresso, Vanilla, Tiramisu, Caramelized White Chocolate with Espresso, Cocoa Dust, Galactico, Caramelized White Chocolate with Toasted Almonds, Sea Salt, Holi, White Chocolate with Rose, Pista, Pink Salt. And if you wish to try this everything chocolate meets coffee. large gift box then you can find it at shop chocolate gift in india.

Textures Of Caramel Gift Box

A curated gift box of chocolates and hot chocolates highlighting different types and textures of caramel, featuring caramelized white chocolate, English toffee and a lot more. The perfect gift for to satisfy your sweet tooth the Gift Box comprises of Galactico, Caramelized White Chocolate with Toasted Almonds and Dash of Sea Salt x 1. Toffee & Nut, Milk Chocolate with Crunchy-Toasted Almonds and English Toffee x 1, Tiramisu, Caramelized White Chocolate with a shot of Espresso and Cocoa Dust x 1, Kaaju, Milk Chocolate, paired with caramelized cashew brittle and a delicate sprinkling of cardamom. x 1. And if you wish to try this diwali gift box set of 6 then you can find it at shop chocolate gift in india.

Apart from the above best dark chocolate in india online, there are many other options in terms of almond butter dark chocolate. And when it comes to chocolates there are only some fine brands who cater your demands in a right way. And Artisante is a one-stop solution when it comes to best dark chocolate in india online, buy chocolate gift boxes, buy vegan chocolate online india & artisante chocolates that you can explore on their website.

To know more: https://artisante.in/collections/shop-chocolate-gifting-india

[axolator]

Script-A-"Day" #41: Waluigi's Moustache by Luxray

Wahahaha! Waluigi gonna kill the Demon!

First place at Final 3 Con's Alliances Script Competition!

Featured characters: Goon, Marionette, Legion

Complexity: Advanced-Expert. Recommended for STs who can comfortably ascertain the game state and craft information accordingly, and for players who are okay with a heaping dose of Legion paranoia as they parse the many possibilities of this script's infoscape.

Database link (find the PDF and JSON for running it there!)

Writeup under the cut!

Waluigi's Moustache has a very unique identity as a script. Featuring a combination of extra death and misinfo not easily found elsewhere along with a lurking Legion, it's a script that truly produces games like no other. The good team is mostly made up of information, with some characters like the Innkeeper and Monk doubling up to stop extra deaths — and to keep the Goon at the center of the script on the good team! The evil team is no slouch, though: between the Marionette, Vortox, and Legion (and the Drunk, Tinker, and Recluse in their back pockets) not all information can be trusted, and the suite of death modification is fearsome. Characters like the Ojo, Po, and Marionette can easily flip a Goon evil, and the Assassin can make sure they stay that way. One important caveat: in a Legion game, the Goon will always stay good, and can often be a key part of the solve if they're trusted — a tough feat for an Outsider as shifty as the Goon!

When bagbuilding Waluigi's Moustache, consider how the characters on both teams will interact with each other more than anything. Consider putting more information in a Vortox game and, on the other side of the coin, put more protection in a Po game — keep the teams balanced. This extends to the Goon — if in play, make sure both teams have ample opportunity to flip the Goon back and forth!

When building Legion, flip the numbers of good and evil players: so a 9-player game should have 2 Townsfolk and 7 Legion instead of 7 good players and 2 evil players. If you want to add an Outsider (and it's great fun to do so), take it out of the Legion's numbers — so this 9p game could have 2 Townsfolk, 1 Outsider, and 6 Legion. And, just a quick note: maybe avoid the Innkeeper in a Legion game? Don't never put the two in together, or otherwise the Innkeeper knows by their existence that it's not Legion, but the two don't play together very nicely.

Some notes:

Here are all the ways to mess with Townsfolk to send them down the Legion tunnel if they're the Drunk, the Marionette, or in a Vortox game:

Chef: Give them a super high number to simulate many Legion players

Librarian: Give them a 0! Most Legion games don't have Outsiders in them, after all. (That being said, an actual Lib-pair in a Legion game is also a lot of fun, too.)

Empath: Give them 2s when you can, and eventually give them a 1 when you can't give them a 2 (maybe when they neighbor two evils?)

General: Depends on what you think about the good team's chances of winning in Legion in general — for STs like myself, they'd say that evil is typically winning.

FT/TC: Lots and lots of yesses.

Fisherman: Point them to a player and tell them to vote together. Or, information which suggests distrusting the majority of town... you got this.

I just covered this on A Sudden Reversal, but recall how Pixie/Vortox works: they se an out-of-play Townsfolk character and their "mad" token is arbitrary: when that player dies, if the Pixie was mad about being the Townsfolk they saw, they get the ability they saw.

I actually prefer 3-star General to 5-star General on this script (that is, only using good/neutral/evil instead of good/evil slightly winning). That being said, both work fine: just remember that if you're running 5-star General in Vortox, make sure to give the General a reading that’s more than 1 star away from the truth (so if the truth is thumb slightly up, give a thumb down or slightly down in Vortox), that way their information is still actionable.

Recall from the Pearly Gates writeup: the Fortune Teller gets a NO on their red herring in a Vortox game! And, while I'm here, a note about the Recluse: I personally rule that the Recluse can misregister to the Vortox, making information regarding them effectively arbitrary (and so, characters like the Librarian, Empath, and FT can get true info about a Recluse in a Vortox game). Other STs might not — make sure your group knows how you rule it!

You might want to houserule that the Monk's protection lasts during the day, that way the Savant and Fisherman can recieve un-Vortoxed info if they're Monk-protected (instead of just the characters that act at night — remember the Monk makes players safe from all negative Demon effects!) I personally do, since I find it more fun, but make sure your group knows how you rule the interaction.

Base script interaction, but still relevant: If the Assassin is the first player to choose the Goon, the Goon dies and flips evil.

If the Drunk chooses the Goon with the ability they think they have, the Goon flips good and the Drunk is Goon-drunk. If the Marionette chooses the Goon with the ability they think they have, the Goon flips evil and the Marionette is Goon-drunk.

This script was written with the context that the Recluse can misregister as the Demon in order to place a Marionette next to it. It's a choice you might make in order to make the Marionette a picking role in a Goon game, or otherwise help evil more than just choosing the Demon's neighbor.

I wrote a lot about the Ojo in this post, but in sum: if the Ojo misses, don't necessarily punish them — bounce the kill to a neutral target that keeps the game in the balance. Ooh, but do remember that the Ojo can:

Multikill on a miss to sell Godfather worlds or otherwise gain tempo

Kill the Goon through their protection, since it's not them "choosing" the Goon with their ability

If the Ojo intentionally misses (by picking a bluff or another Demon) with the intent to do either one of those things, strongly consider following their intent.

Run the alternate Legion voting rule to avoid confirming who is Legion. The Legion almanac covers this too, but for completeness's sake: Instead of immediately declaring the vote tally to be 0 when only evil players vote on something, instead declare the vote to be successful and secretly keep track of who is actually about to die from execution with Legion's "About to die" reminder token.

That's about it from me! This script (and the other two finalists) is stellar - give it a whirl sometime if your group is comfortable with Legion!

[premiumsweetss]

Indulge in Diwali Sweets: A Taste of Tradition

Diwali, the Festival of Lights, is one of the most significant and celebrated festivals in India. It’s a time when homes are adorned with colorful decorations, earthen lamps light up the darkness, and families come together to celebrate the triumph of light over darkness and good over evil. But perhaps one of the most anticipated aspects of Diwali is the indulgence in delectable sweets.

A Sweet Tradition

Sweets hold a special place in Indian culture, and during Diwali, their significance becomes even more profound. The exchange of sweets symbolizes the sharing of joy and happiness with loved ones. It’s a gesture of goodwill and togetherness, as families and friends exchange boxes of meticulously crafted sweets as tokens of love and blessings.

The Variety of Diwali Sweets

Diwali sweets come in an array of flavors, shapes, and textures, each with its unique charm and taste. From the syrupy goodness of Gulab Jamun to the fragrant and nutty delight of Kaju Katli, these sweets cater to every palate. Here are some of the most beloved Diwali sweets:

1. Gulab Jamun: These soft, deep-fried dumplings soaked in sugar syrup are a melt-in-your-mouth delight.

2. Kaju Katli: Made from ground cashews, sugar, and cardamom, Kaju Katli is a favorite among those who love nutty and slightly chewy sweets.

3. Ladoo: These round, bite-sized sweets come in various forms, such as Besan Ladoo (made from gram flour) and Motichoor Ladoo (made from tiny gram flour balls).

4. Jalebi: These bright orange, spiral-shaped sweets are made by deep-frying wheat flour batter and soaking it in sugar syrup.

5. Barfi: A versatile sweet, Barfi comes in many flavors, including coconut, pistachio, and rose.

6. Rasgulla: These soft and spongy cottage cheese balls are soaked in sugar syrup, making them a refreshing sweet treat.

The Joy of Making and Sharing

The preparation of Diwali sweets is a cherished tradition in many households. Families come together to create these delectable delights, often following age-old recipes passed down through generations. It’s a time of bonding, laughter, and the sharing of culinary secrets.

But Diwali isn’t just about making sweets; it’s also about sharing them. Neighbors exchange sweets, colleagues bring boxes of treats to the office, and friends drop by with bags of joy. The act of giving and receiving sweets during Diwali strengthens bonds and spreads happiness.

The Sweet Essence of Diwali

Diwali is a festival that engages all the senses, and the taste of its sweets is an integral part of the experience. It’s not just about the flavors but also the emotions and memories that these sweets evoke. Whether you’re biting into a piece of Kaju Katli or savoring the syrupy goodness of Gulab Jamun, you’re tasting a piece of tradition and a reminder of the joy that comes with celebrating Diwali.

So, this Diwali, as you light the lamps and decorate your homes, remember to indulge in the sweetness of tradition. Share the joy with your loved ones, and let the taste of Diwali sweets fill your hearts with warmth and happiness. After all, Diwali is not just a festival; it’s a celebration of life’s sweetest moments.