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Worst. Dream. Machine. Ever

New chapter in my BG3 fanfic. Or, "How my Tav manages to annoy the Dream Guardian."

Excerpt below:

Later that night, Lena dreamed she was on laying down an asteroid again on the same grassy knoll as the last time, only this time not-Chris Evans wore what looked like a very short purple toga or a chiton or whatever the hell classical western European statues wore. “The voice of the Absolute is strong here. And getting stronger. I don’t know how much longer I can resist it.” Still lying on the grass, she rolled her eyes at the not-sky and made a face. “No, really?” she drawled sarcastically. “Next you’ll tell me that the closer I get to a fire the hotter it gets!” Not-Chris Evans gritted his teeth. “I’m trying to convey to you that I’m still protecting you, but it’s getting harder.” “Then say that! Or better still, tell me what I’m supposed to do with this information! Does this mean that your protection might lapse and one or more of us’ll end up with a case of tentacle-mouth? Or that we should try to move camp away from the Tower so you can take a break? Or did you want me to pat you on the back and say ‘I’m so sorry’?” She turned her head to look at him and then did a double-take. She pointed at his crochetal region. “Is—is that a skort? I mean, I know that wearing anything that short means that either your undies show or your brown-eye does, but there are skorts in Faerun?” Not-Chris Evans closed his mouth and held it in a thin line and glared at her. “I don’t even know why I bother,” he said, all attempts at an American accent dropped. “I don’t, either. Your American accent sucks.” She nestled her shoulders in the grass, crossed her ankles, cupped her hands behind her head, and closed her eyes as though she were preparing to nap.

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For the love of everything holy, THIS MUST HAPPEN.

game of DATE EVERYTHING is out and im honored to see the TINGLEVERSE mentioned. still have not heard from the developer but my offer stands: let me know if you want chuck tingle to voice an object. anyway buckaroos are having a great time playing so go check it out THIS PROVES LOVE

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Last Call (part IV)

Another chapter in my BG3 fanfic where a honey badger shifter gets isekai'ed into Faerun as Tav.

Man, these chapters just won't end! But it's easier to reusing titles. Not that anyone reads this. *crickets*

Full chapter here.

They headed in and found Karlach and Wyll already arguing with a tiefling in wizard’s robes with a mug of wine in his hand. “Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap. All of your group, especially that insane psycho human … thing, convinced me that staying with the rest of the refugees was safest, and they took it as permission to play hero. Now they’re gone.” Edie leaned toward Lena. “What’re the odds that he’s talking about you?” The wizard turned suddenly and glared at Lena. “YOU!” he shouted. Lena looked at him nonplussed for a few seconds before recognition dawned on her. “Oh yeah! I remember you! Rolaid! Roman! R-something!” Wyll massaged his temples. “Rolan,” he corrected. “Rolan! You’ve got an internship with some shitty stuck-up wizard in Baldur’s Gate! Gale and I got drunk with you at the party until your sibs … dragged … you … oh. That’s who you were just talking about.” Rolan glowered at her. She pointed awkwardly at the mug in his hand. “You’re going to have a really shitty hangover.” “Not if I stay drunk,” he snapped. “They were my responsibility and I lost them.” He turned back to the bar and hunched over his mug. “Now they’re at Moonrise Tower where who knows what those cultists will do to them.” He finished off the dregs. “Another bottle of that Arabellan red,” he ordered from a pair of tiefling children. “Jaheira said to serve drinks, not drunks,” one of them said tartly. “Jaheira didn’t save your ragged little tails from the cultists—I did,” he snapped. Lena slapped a clawed hand down on Rolan’s shoulder and roughly spun him around even though the bar stool didn’t swivel—he squeaked against the wood. Lena raised an eyebrow at the weathered wood of the neighboring stools. “You’ve been here for a while.”

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Last Call (part III)

Latest filler chapter in my BG3 fanfic.

“I also added a clause to the contract that requires him to immediately answer any summons from Halsin for questions related to the Shadow Curse,” Astarion interjected. He and Lena grinned at each other, then looked at Halsin. “Not-a-bear man,” Lena started. Jaheira barked a startled laugh “Do you have any new questions related to the Shadow Curse?” Halsin sighed. “Unfortunately, I do. Though I don’t think it’s wise to prod a devil.” “Think of this as a test,” Astarion said. “We wouldn’t want to find out later that any summons are answered weeks or even years after they’re made because the language in the contract wasn’t precise.” “It’s a valid concern,” Gale added. “Though I’ve been more circumspect than most with my magical research, there have been more than a few mishaps due to a carelessly misspoken word or gesture that belies a limited understanding of what the spell intends. It reminds me of when I was still a new student in Blackstaff Academy and I was tasked with transmogrifying igneous rock into sedimentary. I let my attention drift to a rather comely student and suddenly the rock shattered and rained hundreds of miniature gelatinous cubes across the entire lecture hall.” Everyone except Edie and Lena looked horrified. “I’m guessing you’re not talking about gelatin, like the stuff extracted from animal bones and hooves.” Edie said.

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Badger at the Gate: Last Call (part II)

What happens when crazy meets evil.

Excerpt below.

“Your move, Mol,” Raphael said. “You trapped me. I didn’t even want to take this one,” Mol complained. Then she stared in his direction, but not actually staring at him. Raphael turned his head and found him self nearly nose-to-nose with a black-and-gray–haired human woman who immediately opened her mouth and bellowed “GROOMER!” in his face. Mol scrambled out of her chair and dashed to the bar where some other tiefling children served drinks, while Raphael nearly fell backwards out of his chair, only to be caught by a second human woman—a taller one with curly brown hair—who somehow had the dagger-like claws of a large cat wrapped around his neck. “Now what a full-grown man who stinks of the sulfurs of hell doing with a child?” the brown-haired one said with silky menace. Her voice seemed soft, but it clearly carried through the entirety of the inn because suddenly everyone was starting at him. Jaheira sauntered over, followed by the rest of the party. “So a devil decides to visit. So tell me, what draws you to this little inn in the middle of the Shadow Curse? I don’t imagine even devils would enjoy a holiday here.” Raphael held his hands up in surrender. “I mean you no one here any harm, Jaheira,” he said calmly. “I just have some business in the area and thought I’d stop by. Though your hospitality could use a little work.” He eyed Edie significantly, but she smiled sweetly and tightened her claws around his neck until blood barely started to well from the tips. A slight grimace flashed across his face before he smoothed it back into bland insouciance.

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Badger at the Gate: Last Call (part I)

Now reaching Last Light Inn, where the food's meh, the drinks are terrible, but at least you won't have your soul trapped in the Shadow Curse!

Read it on AO3.

Excerpt below:

An armed pair of Harpers stopped them before they could step off of the bridge where a pale bubble of moonlight encompassed an island and pushed back the shadow. “Lassandra, good to see you back from patrol. Where’s Yonas?” one of the guards asked. The curly-haired Harper shook her head sadly. “Snatched and consumed by the shadows. We were nearly overrun by an ambush of them until they—” she pointed to the party behind her, “—showed up.” The pair guarding the bridge eyed them suspiciously. “How do you know that they’re not spies sent by the Absolute?” “You don’t,” Lena called from behind. “In my defense, I’ll admit that this cloak-and-dagger shit gives me a headache and I would make a terrible spy.” Edie nodded. “It’s true. The woman can’t lie worth a damn.” Lena gave Edie a slightly offended look. “I've lied all the time to full-human authorities and none of them called me out on it!” Edie shook her head. “I don’t know how you maintain that delusion because you clearly unsettle full humans to the point where they instinctively know to stop asking questions. Except Gale. But let’s not talk about his kinks.” The party all turned to look at Gale standing next to Lena. Gale flushed bright red, which only deepened when he noticed the Harpers now eyed him. He cleared his throat and gave them all a little wave. “Hi, I’m Gale of Waterdeep.” Lena sagged. “Oh babe, not that 'Gale of Waterdeep' thing again!” She gave him a half-hug around the waist. “He’s Gale Dekarios, who will eventually father my many, many, MANY babies!” She leaned against him and grinned up at him. “SOOOOO many babies!” His buried his face in his hands and she reached up to kiss his cheek. “They certainly go at it like they’re planning on popping one out every nine months,” Karlach remarked. One of the Harpers choked on a laugh.

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Badger at the Gate: Act II, The Abysmal

We're at Act II, everyone! And it only took (looks at word count) just over 150k words!

Link to chapter

Excerpt below:

The next day, after leaving Barcus with Withers and the animals, they set off for the elevator into the Shadow Cursed Lands after a Minthara provided them with a briefing of what to expect. Most of them lit torches, though Gale and Shadowheart had cast daylight on themselves to leave their hands free, and Minthara had the Light of Lathander glow at full blast. As soon as the elevator doors opened, they were inundated with the smell of stale air. The darkness was palpable and alive. Everyone felt enervated, and not just from the gloom. All, except Shadowheart. She carefully approached one of the shadows, reaching out as though to touch it. “The shadows are hungry here. Doesn't seem to affect me though…” She brightened suddenly. “Do you know what this means? I must be blessed. Lady Shar is protecting me while others face her wrath. She loves me. She must do.” Lae’zel walked next to her. “Chk. Even with the light of these spells and torches I can feel the shadows trying to snatch away my life. What does that mean for the rest of us? Are we to be damned by your mistress’s curse while you alone remain protected?” Shadowheart looked over at Lae’zel. “Lady Shar wouldn’t bless me like this for no reason. There must be something she wants of me.” “Let’s focus on your choice of words,” Lena interjected coming up from behind them, “‘something she wants of me.’ For a goddess that seems to thrive on her followers doing shit like sacrificing ‘innocents,’ that seems downright ominous.” Shadowheart shook her head. “It could be as simple as my finding a place dedicated to Shar. A temple, perhaps.” “And then what?” Lena asked. “Sacrifice one of us? I think the closest thing we have to an ‘innocent’ is Barcus. Though if she’s not picky about sentience, she might accept Scratch or Owlbert. Which do you think she’d prefer?” “NONE OF THEM!” Shadowheart shouted, the noise deadened by the twisted trees. Then she cleared her throat and composed herself. “It needn’t be a sacrifice; she needs her followers to act as conduits for her will, and it might be a different task entirely.”

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New Chapter to Badger at the Gate: A Cure for Boredom

The dialog for whenever someone encounters a body in-game always seemed unrealistic. But then I remember that we're surprisingly dumb in a lot of ways.

Excerpt below:

Edie and Lena were both amazed by how unaware the duergar were, in general: Shortly after Lena had used one as literal meat puppet and she’d managed to clean her hands, another duergar came upon the corpse, put his hands on his hips, and started saying, “Who would do such a thing?” Lena, looking slightly chagrined, awkwardly edged away. Edie clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing while all of their companions gave her confused looks. All the while the duergar continued to asking variations of, “How could such a thing even happen?”After a moment, Gale sighed and motioned for someone to act while he cast silence over said duergar. Astarion unsheathed a dagger then stalked over silently to neatly slashed the duergar’s throat to the bone. Lena blinked. “Man, that was not what I expected.” Astarion was cleaning his dagger on the duergar’s sleeves when he looked up. “What were you expecting?” “That that dude,” she pointed to the latest corpse, “would accuse me of murder. Especially seeing as I was right next to the body he was getting all worked-up over.” Astarion raised an eyebrow. “I gather you never killed anyone in crowded places.” Lena gave him a confused look. “Uh, yeah I have. But I usually lure them away, kill them, hide the bodies before anyone else notices, and then dispose of them when I’m sure no one’s looking.” Astarion scoffed. “It’s surprisingly simple to kill someone in full view of a crowd and walk away with none the wiser. I’m astounded that you’ve never learned it with your propensity for casual murder.” Lena paused and frowned as she thought. “Is it really murder if it’s not really premeditated? Because I don’t always plan these things. Besides, I still don’t get why I didn’t get immediately accused of murder even though he nearly caught me red-handed. Literally.”

Click here for the rest on AO3.

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Lady Ranunculus Winklemeyer (AKA Runt)

The last child to be born to the missing-and-presumed-dead second baron of Codsworth, Lord Geoffry Winklemeyer and his wife, Lady Petunia, Lady Ranunculus had the misfortune of having an overly-fanciful mother who named after a genus of flowers instead of simply being called 'Buttercup' like anyone else would.

After her mother's untimely disappearance not long after her birth, and the lack of a nursemaid for several weeks, Lady Ranunculus's stunted growth led her family to calling her 'Runt' on account of her small stature and overall delicacy compared to her frequently rambunctious (and far more violent) older siblings.

Despite the challenges to her mental and physical health, Runt maintains a cheerful manner and is well-loved by the locals, as well as a sweetness; unless one delays her meals, then she's becomes extremely irritable and vocal in her displeasure. She enjoys contemplation from the manor's attic gables, most likely as to whether cook will prepare fish or fowl for the evening meal.

If you'd like to help out (such as to help defray the cost of spaying/neutering Runt and her four siblings), consider donating to Pink Paws for the Cause, where she'll eventually be up for adoption.

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Ladies Hillaria and Estella Winklemeyer (AKA Hissy and Big Foot)

Lady Hillaria

Lady Estella

Ladies Hillaria and Estella Winklemeyers are twins born to the missing-and-presumed-dead second baron of Codsworth, Lord Geoffry Winklemeyer and his wife, Lady Petunia.

Both girls were born with extra digits on their hands and feet, though each has been treated differently by society at large.

Lady Hillaria's lesser disfigurement is more easily ignored by polite society, and she regularly attends events such as going to the theater and attending balls. She also uses her larger hands and feet to great effect when she engages her brother Adonis in regular bouts of bare-knuckle boxing, and hisses whenever her brother lands a hit, thus earning her the sobriquet of 'Hissy.'

Lady Estella's disfigurement is such that the family had nicknamed her 'Big Foot' and had hidden her away and denied her existence to polite society, which suits her just fine as she prefers a far more solitary pursuits in the manor's stillroom, brewing and experimenting with poisons and occasionally an improved peanut brittle recipe.

If you'd like to help out (such as to help defray the cost of spaying/neutering Hissy and Big Foot and their three siblings), consider donating to Pink Paws for the Cause, where they'll eventually be up for adoption.

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Lady Bettina Winklemeyer (AKA 'Bitey')

Lady Bettina Winklemeyer is the first-born daughter to the missing-and-presumed-dead second baron of Codsworth, Lord Geoffry Winklemeyer and his wife, Lady Petunia.

Lady Bettina earned her moniker of 'Bitey' after an incident with her nurse as a young girl whereupon she bit the poor woman whilst she attempted to bath the recalcitrant child after she spent an inordinate time in the family hunting grounds to bag grouse. Without a gun. By herself. She had returned successfully with several braces of fowl. As well a fleas.

When not hunting with her bare hands in the forests of her ancestral home, she enjoys embroidery, dancing, and singing.

If you'd like to help out (such as to help defray the cost of spaying/neutering Bitey and her four siblings), consider donating to Pink Paws for the Cause, where she'll eventually be up for adoption.

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Lord Adonis Winklemeyer

Lord Adonis Winklemeyer (known more commonly as 'Dingus' by his four sisters) is the third baron of Codsworth in Lincolnshire. Though officially recognized as the scion of the now missing (and presumed dead) Lord Geoffrey Winklemeyer, there has been a great deal of speculation as to his true parentage given his ginger coloring is at odds with Lord Geoffery's dark coloring, and those of his sisters.

He is not considered the most erudite peer (and his dance partners have occasionally mentioned his distasteful body odor, much to his valet's frustration and frequent attempts to thoroughly bathe him nightly), nevertheless he is still considered an affable and congenial companion.

He enjoys boxing, racing his curricle at break-neck speeds, and collecting small insects for which no one is certain what he does with them.

If you'd like to help out (such as to help defray the cost of spaying/neutering Dingus and his four sisters), consider donating to Pink Paws for the Cause, where he'll eventually be up for adoption.

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How I'm making sure Runt gains weight. She currently weighs only a little over half her biggest sibling.

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Orange kitten lives up to the stereotype of orange cats: he was last to be caught (shout out to Peggy of Pink Paws of San Mateo), and now he's ready to reunite with the rest of his 4 siblings.

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Milk drunk.

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You know what they say about big feet ... that the feral colony REALLY needs TNR, except I have no cash for this. So if anyone in the SF Bay Area wants a polydactyl kitty or two, feel free to msg me.

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I've got a couple of kittens in need of homes: mama cat's MIA and so is one of the kittens (used to be five, now there are four). If anyone in the SF Bay Area wants one, message me. (I REALLY can't afford the vet care for all of them, and the local rescues are at their limits).

Edit: managed to catch the two torties and a black kitten. This colony is incredibly inbred: the black kitten and one of the torties have 5+ toes on their hind feet. And the smaller tortie can't piddle or shit on her own. Though I think I managed to wash away the majority of the fleas.

2025.05.05: All five kittens are now being fostered through Pink Paws for the Cause. The volunteers have offered to pay the $800 to spay and neuter while I trap the adults in my neighborhood for TNR, but if you have a little cash to spare, please donate to them.

In the meantime, I need to finish decontaminating kitten diarrhea from a bathroom.