#Constantine got the short stick of the draw

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 8 - "Give me that, before anything happens."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"Don't touch that." Constantine said without even looking up from the book he was reading through for research. Phantom had joined the Justice League dark only recently and was still in that sort of mentor - glorified babysitting - state. It was just his luck that he lost in the stick draw and had now to 'mentor' the who-knows-how-old-he-truly-is Ghost King.

He should have stuck this job to Zatanna. The 'kid' was curious as a cat and apparently wanted to touch every good damn artifact in the House of Mysteries that Constantine had ever gotten his hands on.

"Don't touch that either." The Brite muttered without looking up, he was so close in figuring out the actual meaning of the curse placed on a good damn church bell that causes everyone who hears it to fall asleep at midnight sharp and wake up at 8 AM later like nothing happened. Behind his back Phantom stuck his tongue out at the man before reaching out to poke the artifact that caught his eye anyway. However the House of Mysteries had other ideas as it reconstructed itself at the right moment and put the artifact further away from Phantom.

The Ghost King pouted, crossing his arms and floated over to where Constantine was pouring over a curse seal. Phantom hummed as he looked over the Brites shoulder grinning. "Oh I didn't know you could use ghost speech for curses!"

"Say what now mate?!" John's head snapped to the side to stare at Phantom who was now floating over his shoulder. "It's in ghost speech? What even is that?"

The Ghost King had the nerve to give him an unimpressed stare that really made the Brite need a smoke, but he had given Zatanna his good damn word not to smoke around the 'kid', so that was a no.

"Ghost speech. The language of the Infinite Realms also known as the Ghost Zone, After Life, Hell, Home of the Damned, and so on and so on." Constantines eye twitched as the Ghost boy shrugged. He let out a suffering sigh and pushed his copie of the curse seal over to Phantom.

"What does it say?" The other blinked for a moment before turning his eyes to the photo. A scratching static white noise filled the Brite's ears and he yelped in pain, covering his ears. The noise instantly stopped and Contantine glared at the Ghost King who sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I will say it again in English."

Constantine only grumbled something inaudible before motioning for the other to continue.

"You idiots don't sleep enough. Go and get at least eight hours of sleep. If you don't sleep by midnight I will be the one to make you sleep."

"The hell?"

"That's what's written there."

"Don't tell me we have another good damn Sandman problem on our hands." John gripped with one hand at his hair, he really hoped that wasn't it because dear good he did not want to get Batman or one of the other Not Dark heros involved.

"Nah, he goes by Nocturne, he never liked that name some philosophers came up with. But this does go against the agreement I had with him."

Was this how Batman felt when his Robins went against his orders? Or how the mentors of the Yonge Justice feel when the teens sass back? Because Constantine was sticking this ancient kid of a Ghost King onto Zatanna the next change he got.

"You know how to lift that curse then?" Instead of going further into a rabbit hole, Constantine decided it was easier to just find out if the Ghost King can lift a good damn curse he had been working on solving for days now instead of finding out who the hell Nocturne was now.

"Of course I know." Phantom answered easily, floating on his back around the room like he was going with the flow of water. Glowing green eyes going along the shelves where various books and artifacts were thrown on, in no particular order.

"Great. Let's go and fix this then." The man muttered, getting up from his chair and grabbing his coat. "I need a bottle of whiskey after this and a good damn smoke…"

Phantom just followed behind the man ready for his second official job with the Justice League Dark. He grinned happily of finally getting some outside action only to come to a sudden halt as the Brite man whirled around glaring at the Ghost King only inches from his the other.

"Phantom?"

"Yes?" The 'kid' answered nervously.

"Give me that, before anything happens. How often did I tell you NOT to touch anything of the artifacts? Do you even know what that thing does!"

Reluctantly like a reprimanded child the Ghost King handed over a golden plate with a glowing green crystal embedded into it, Constantine remembered it being the leftover part of a demon they had banished. The man narrowed his eyes. "The other one too."

"Fine…" Phantom handed over a crystal zepter, John had picked up from an ancient tomb. "Didn't think you noticed me picking them up, since you didn't say anything before I even touched them."

"Mate, you are forgetting who currently owns this house."

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

The Hattrick

Rating: PG 1,698 words Gen AO3

There is a strong possibility that Mia is in hell. It’d be vaguely poetic and certainly fitting if her personal hell were an empty warehouse. The fact John Constantine is here definitely sells the idea.

“You just had to go for the hattrick,” Mia grumbles. She lowers her bow as the rumpled looking magician sticks his hands in his coat pockets.

John shrugs, “You did jinx it, love.”

Mia huffs. Taking the arrow off the string, she reaches over her shoulder to slide it back in her quiver. Begrudgingly, Mia is willing to admit that the circumstances are better this time around at least. For one, she knows where she is, isn’t in her pjs or barefoot, and has not been captured or tied up by goons. Plus, she’s got her bow and the crate John just rounded was the last area she had to sweep before determining that the warehouse was indeed empty. The presence of the Englishman currently partaking in his favorite bad habit pretty much did Mia’s job for her.

Crossing her arms, Mia watches the smoke from John’s cigarette float towards the ceiling. Some hangs back to give him a hazy looking halo as he leans against the crate.

“I’d say we should stop meeting like this but apparently the universe would just take that as a challenge,” she says flatly.

Barking a laugh, John pushes himself upright and nods. “Normally I’ve got good luck but you’re turning out to be a bad penny, love.”

Mia drops her arms as she frowns, stepping closer to John despite the acidic smelling fog. She makes a big show of examining him, exaggerating her expression as she goes. “I don’t see you hanging by your ankles or otherwise incapacitated today. And we did have fun that first time. Or at least you got drunk and got me kicked out of Oblivion. Not sure how any of that is bad luck for you.”

John narrows his eyes and blows out a long stream of gray-white smoke. “But unlike your Righteousness, I don’t work for free. And on our last few encounters I got stiffed.” He leers, taking two thin fingers to remove the cigarette from his lip, “Unfortunately not literally.”

Rolling her eyes, Mia waves at the growing cloud. “Still underage, still not interested. Besides, I thought you conned space, time, and Zatanna into leaving with you last time.”

“Clever.” John does a short little nod as his lips and nose scrunch up. He takes another drag and eyes Mia carefully. “You do know I’m just winding you up, right? Don’t have any intentions towards ya. Remind me a bit of my niece if I’m bein’ honest.”

Mia smiles, letting herself roll her eyes since the mask will help soften the blow. “I do. You would’ve known it a while ago if I thought you were serious. Probably with a fist to the face.”

Despite his reputation, appearance, rudeness, and overall general bad attitude, John Constantine is a good person and she knows this. That much was obvious when they first met. Besides, they have a similar worldview of looking out for the little guy. Let someone else handle an alien invasion, and sure they’ll walk into the middle of a battle to save the world if they have to, but they’d rather help the single mom down the street. And piss off the powers that be.

“Can we get back to our regularly scheduled snark and gallows humor now?” she offers him a smirk.

John’s twisted expression smooths to match hers. “Gladly. So what’s a nice girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

“Nearly hunting chain-smoking warlocks for sport, apparently.” Mia bares her teeth as John blows a thin stream of the aforementioned smoke over his shoulder.

“Point taken.”

“Not quite, I put my arrow away remember?”

“Heh,” John huffs and gestures towards her, “you’re quick today.”

“Well they don’t call me Speedy for nothing,” Mia drawls.

That has John genuinely laughing, hard enough he coughs a little on the smoke hanging around him. He takes that as his cue to stub his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe and flick the butt off into the warehouse. Mia can’t help but frown as she watches.

“Maybe you should quit. That didn’t sound good,” concern leaks into her voice.

John waves her off, waving the some of the haze away too. “Survived lung cancer once and I still didn’t learn me lesson. No point quitting now. ‘Sides,” something like mischief lit his eyes, “I’ve got a couple-a tricks up my sleeves.”

The hair on the back of Mia’s neck prickles. Wearing a look like that she believes John had conned the devil himself. “Just as long as they don’t wind up spilled all over the ground again,” she shoots back in an almost automatic defense mechanism.

Chuckling, Johns ducks his head. He nods slightly though, almost conceding that she’s made a point. Mia grins as he raises his brows and glances up at her. “So what’s caught Speedy’s ire today? ‘Sides yours truly of course.”

“Of course,” Mia agrees seriously. Her straight face lasts only a few seconds before a smile flickers, threatening to break out. Mia tamps it down as she straightens her spine, jutting her chin out just a hair. It gives her an air of authority that is nothing short of absurd which wins her laughs from Ollie every time. It works on John too. His chuckles increase as she adds a dry look.

“Reports of gunrunners in the area, this seemed the most likely option for their base but it’s disgustingly poorly guarded if it is. I haven’t even seen a single camera and you’re the only person I’ve run into. Should probably see what’s in these,” Mia sighs, gesturing vaguely to the stacks of crates that surround them. “What about you?”

John sighs as he pulls his lighter from his pocket. Spinning it in his hand and flicking the top open and closed as he says, “I’m currently in hiding. Not that it’s doing much good.”

“What’d you piss off in London that you had to come all the way to Star to get away from it?” Mia’s brows draw together in surprise. Despite her amused tone she tightens her grip on her bow. If John’s running from it it’s probably serious. Or pissed. Or both. Granted the likelihood that he’s avoiding a poker debt or ex is pretty high on the list of possibilities too but Mia likes to err on the side of caution in all aspects of her life anymore. Even jumping headlong into danger.

He makes a weird, almost rueful noise. “I was in San Francisco,” he admits sheepishly.

Mia doesn’t even try to cover her laugh.

“But Zee and I parted on good terms,” he adds quickly, almost nervous sounding.

“Sure you did,” she teases. “This time.”

John rolls his eyes and scoffs but doesn’t deny it.

“What’re you running from?”

“Myself, mostly,” he admits wryly. “Wandered in here on a hunch though. Coming across you seems to have been what the universe wanted.”

She makes sure to arrange her features into her most skeptical look.

“Look, it wasn’t intentional,” he grumbles.

Mia believes him but it’s too much fun giving John a hard time. “If you say so. Look, if you’re here you can make yourself useful” – he quirks a brow but Mia charges ahead – “and help me see if there’s any weapons in these.” She pats the crate next to her.

“And what do you define as weapons?” John’s smirk is back.

“Don’t be difficult,” Mia says. She turns, pulling one of her sturdier arrows out to leverage the lid off.

“Strewth, that’ll take ages,” he complains, coming up beside her. “I’m all for doing your own dirty work but I’ll pay the price to get out of this.”

Mia turns in confusion but John’s already backed up and rifling through his pockets. He pulls his pack of cigarettes out and a piece of string. Tying it around the pack, he lets it hang loose a few inches off the ground. The effect is that John looks vaguely like he’s taking his Silk Cuts for a walk as they sway slightly over the toes of his boots. He mumbles something but Mia’s never been able to make out John’s magic words before, why would today be any different? The cigarette pack swings a bit more, almost making a circle as it does so. John watches it closely but over the next few minutes the motion never changes. Mia’s reaching the end of her patience when it stops moving to hang loose over his shoes again.

“What was that supposed to do?” She doesn’t bother to hide her dry amusement.

“Find your ‘weapons.’” He doesn’t make air quotes as he reels in his cigarettes, taking one out to stick behind his ear, but Mia can still hear them and see them in the curl of his lips.

“I might be a mere mortal, but it doesn’t look like it worked,” she says sarcastically.

“Oh it worked. There just wasn’t anything to find.” John shrugs and shoves his hands back in his pockets.

Mia curses, long and loud. What a waste of a Saturday.

“I knew I put up with you for a reason,” John says.

“You, put up with me?” Mia raises an incredulous brow.

“C’mon love, we’ll go to Oblivion and I’ll make it up to you.” He holds his arm up, flicking his wrist as though to sweep her under it.

“Still underage, still got kicked out last time,” Mia reminds him flatly.

“Ack, I’ll buy ya a root beer.” John shrugs, having put his arm down and begun walking out the warehouse.

“I’ve never seen you buy anything and I spent an entire day with you once.”

“Fine, I’ll get you a root beer.” He smiles back over his shoulder to where Mia still hasn’t moved. “This is a limited time offer, love. One I’m not planning on making again.”

“Constantine,” Mia grumbles, but rushes to catch up with him.

John nudges her as he grins, “There’s our girl, Speedy.”

[katedrakeohd]

The Royal Honor 👑

Chapter Three

A ‘The Royal Heir’ Fanfiction

A repost for @ritachacha 😁

______________________________

Royal Affairs

As soon as they entered the villa Kate turned on Drake.

“Ok Drake, what's going on? Since when are you, Mr. ‘l despise anything stuffy and Noble’ suddenly ready to have your future child on the freaking throne?”

“When the King asks you to do him a favor it would be impolite to say no.” he replies.

Kate scoffs at his cookie cutter, matter of fact answer, “Oh please, he's not asking you for one of your fucking french fries, this is our child we're talking about.”

Drake frowns at her comparing the request to something so trivial.

“It’s complicated Ok! ..He's under pressure from the Royal Council, the Cordonian people, and his closest rivals to prove he's worthy of the crown. He went through the trouble of doing a whole damned engagement tour and then the Unity Tour, and our wedding and he's still no further ahead.” Drake argues, pacing the room.

“No kidding, he poured everything into bringing the Duchies together and for what? Our wedding almost didn't happen. Well our second wedding anyway. No wonder he's looking at us for his heir. Anton may have been caught, but the damage has been done. The orchards have been burned, his father is dead and whatever corrupt political alliances he had are gone with him. He's a King without a Queen, and thus a King without an heir. And a King without an heir is doomed to have a very short time on the throne.” Kate says.

“Exactly, he's poured so much into our future. The Duchy, the wedding, this honeymoon, we owe him for everything. That's why I was so honored for him to ask us for an heir. Granted it's really bad timing to ask us during our honeymoon, but with all the pressure he's under he didn't have much choice.” Drake insists, hoping she'll see his point.

“But he's the King, and he's still young. There are other women he could court to be his Queen. Can't he change the rules to give himself more time?” Kate argues.

“Well that's the thing he's already had a taste of what a political marriage would be like with his engagement to Madeleine. And he doesn't want to do that again. He wants to marry for love, like we did. But there's another complication to that happening.”

Kate settles down on the sofa, hugging one of the throw pillows to her chest and drawing up her knees. “What kind of complication?”

Drake sits down next to her on the sofa, pulling her legs across his lap, rubbing his hand up and down her shins. “Well you know how Nicholas and I have been really good friends for a really long time.”

“Yes, I know. It's almost a little weird how close you two are. And I've lived with the Beaumont brothers, so I've seen all kinds of weird.” Kate says with a grin, enjoying Drake's warm hands on her skin.

“Well, what if he and I were a little more than friends once upon a time.” Drake's hand stops stroking her leg and he runs his hand through his hair. He steals a quick glance at Kate and then quickly looks away, a blush forming on his cheeks.

Kate's body tenses, she looks at Drake with a mixture of shock and disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘More than friends’ .. you're not saying that you and the King were….lovers? As in gay?”

When Drake places his hand back on her knee she recoils, drawing her legs out of his reach. “No! Don't touch me.”

Drake gets up from the sofa. The hurt and mistrust in her eyes cutting him deeply, he never wanted her to find out this way. Or at all. He paces back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to explain. Kate hugs the pillow to herself again. Drawing up her knees. “No Kate, there's more to it than that. I'm not gay, he is.”

“But he can't be. I danced with him, kissed him… I…we..” she stammers, blushing as she remembered the few intimate moments she'd shared with Nicholas.

“Did you sleep with him?” Drake asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

“Well no, but that night in Lythikos early in the social season we shared a hot tub.” Kate admits, remembering that she'd spent part of the evening with Drake as well.

Drake places his hands on his hips, frowning at her. The disappointment on his face would have been more effective had he been wearing more than just a pair of shorts. Kate looked at him critically trying to imagine ‘gay' Drake, but couldn't wrap her mind around it.

“So after we’d shared drinks in Olivia's wine cellar you went to his room?”

“Well yes, he invited me. That's what makes this gay argument hard for me to accept.” Kate says with a little laugh, she wasn't sure if Drake was jealous or mad that she'd gone to another man's room that night.

“The whole social season was a lie, a carefully executed plan to force Nicholas to marry someone when he really didn't want to. His brother the playboy had abdicated his position as heir, leaving Constantine a less than desirable son as his only option.”

“But he plays the part so well. The Prince Charming act was flawless. It was all pretend?” Kate frowns with disbelief.

“He's been coached since a young age to hide his feelings. To only portray the stoic courtly diplomatic façade. But when the young girls at court came to the Palace he was more interested in playing with me and Maxwell than with them. The only exception being Olivia. But she was all bluster and flame, more one of the boys than a girly princess like my sister was.”

Drake sits down on the sofa again, with Kate keeping her distance. She was waiting to hear more about Drake and Nicholas’ relationship.

“Nicholas and I had been close as kids, and at first Constantine hadn't paid much attention to it. We'd have sleepovers that seemed innocent enough. But as we grew older and I became more interested in girls, Nicholas wasn't. I started to realize he was more interested in me.”

“So what happened between you two? Did you..did you sleep with him? Did sex happen?” She asked, bracing herself for the answers she didn't want to hear.

Drake feels uncomfortable under her scrutiny, knowing she's going to judge him no matter what he says. “There was no sex, that's where I had drawn the line. We..kissed or cuddled and the occasional touching happened. I wasn’t attracted to him in that way, but I didn't push him away though. Didn't want to hurt him. I saw myself as a safe way for him to explore his sexuality without feeling ashamed of it. I'm breaking a huge promise to him by talking about this to you.”

“Drake, I don't know what to say. That's so sad. You love him don't you.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Drake finally admits it to himself and to Kate. “I do.”

“And he really loves you too, doesn't he? “He's still in love with you after all of these years.” Kate asks quietly.

Drake nods.

Kate struggles to process what's she's learned about Nicholas and about the man she loves, the man she married. She blinks and then frowns.

“But if he's gay, why would he propose to me?” Kate asks.

“Well it's sort of complicated, I know you hate that word by now. Nicholas and I had been having sleepovers since childhood, but it wasn't until we got caught in bed together as teenagers that it set off warning bells. “

“Who found you? Was it Bastien?” she says quietly.

Drake nods, “Yeah, and it was his responsibility to report back to the King. After that Nicholas and I weren't allowed to be alone together. When high school ended I spent the summer in Texas with my Mom, looking at various colleges and working at the family ranch. When I came back to Cordonia at the end of the summer it was like Nicholas was a whole other person. Any kind of physical relationship between us was over. He barely looked at me, and when he did his eyes always seemed to be full of pain and regret. “

Kate moves over closer to Drake on the sofa, taking his hand in hers. Knowing this was his story to tell and that it had to be difficult for him. She didn't want to pry, just sat and waited for him to continue. He squeezes her hand back in silent thanks.

Sucking in a deep breath he lets it out in a rush, his knee shaking nervously.

“Like I said Nicholas played the game well, he had to. The future of Cordonia was riding on it. Constantine had his hooks in him so bad, it was like Nicholas was his puppet. Bastien became more than just a guard, he was the King's spy. He believed that if he left Nicholas to find a wife on his own it would end in disaster. And if Nicholas had stayed with Madeleine it would have. He didn't think it would be possible to fall in love, being the type of man that he is, but with you he was wrong. You're different than all the other crown chasers with silver spoons in their mouths and a polite stick shoved up their asses.”

“If you weren't allowed to be alone with Nicholas, how do you know so much about him?” Kate asks, rubbing her thumb against his hand.

“It wasn't until after his father died that he felt comfortable enough to open up to me about what was going on. But by then it was too late for him and I, because I had proposed to you and therefore made my choice. He explained how he had fallen in love with you and had seen you as his one chance at marrying for love. He felt that as a modern, American woman that you'd be more accepting of who he is and that between the two of you that you could make a marriage work.”

Kate scoffs at Nicholas’ logic, “But I wasn't in love with him Drake, I'm in love with you. That's why I turned him down.”

Drake nods, bringing they're joined hands up to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Yes I know, that's where this Royal Heir comes in. He loves us both for different reasons, and there's nobody else he trusts more to supply his next in line. He knows that between us we'll give the child the best upbringing. To raise a modern and progressive Monarch that will give Cordonia its brightest future.”

Kate looks down at their joined hands, then places her other hand on her belly. “Wow, nothing like putting a lot of pressure and responsibility on us and your tiny shoulders little apple seed.”

Drake chuckles softly, leaning over to kiss her on the temple. “I like that our ’little apple seed'.

Kate bites her lip, still unsure. “That's just it Drake. What if I don't want our baby to be the next leader of Cordonia? You've seen first hand what growing up in the royal court is like. I want our child to have the most normal upbringing they can. With camping trips, eating s'mores by the campfire, going to the beach, playing carefree with friends. What kind of life can our son or daughter have with the anchor of a future crown around their neck? To be constantly in the public eye, and judged for everything they do?”

Drake wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for another kiss. “No matter what we'll make sure this child is going to be ours first, so we can love, nurture and raise them right. I intend to keep them as safe and as much out of the public eye as possible. I know it won't be easy, but with Nicholas’ help we'll manage.”

Kate stiffens, “I don't want his help. I want him to have absolutely zero input into how I raise my child. Courtly protocol be damned. Especially if it means having a child that turns out like Madeleine, Neville, Tariq or whatever.”

With a sigh Drake rubs his forehead, “No I meant he could help with security. And with keeping our child safe from the press.”

Getting up from the sofa, Kate folds her arms and is determined to stand her ground. She was still trying to find the honor in letting the King appoint their future child as his anything. She understood Nicholas’ reasons, and Drake's reasons but was still trying to find a reason for her to agree to anything.

“I've seen first hand how ruthless and greedy the press can be when they want a story, or how they can invent stories that..that hurt people.” Kate stammers, her anger and indignation dissolving into tears.

Drake jumps up from the sofa, trying to pull her into his arms, but Kate just pushes him away. “No don't, I'm too pissed off to be pampered. Nicholas is under pressure to supply an heir? He can find someone else. My womb is not for rent damn it.”

“But Kate…” Drake pleads, trying to reach for her again.

“But no. When we got married I pledged my body and soul to you Drake. To you. Granting you sole permission to create a child with me and for my body to carry and nurture it with all the love that you and I brought together. Our child Drake. What happens if we can only have one child? Or for heaven's sake if we were blessed to have two? Would he want that child too as a spare?”

“Kate..” Drake's face creases with sadness and he looks down with a sigh. He knew he'd exhausted his argument, and didn't know how to reply.

“Look I get it that he's done so much for us. And I'm grateful to him and the Beaumont's for everything they've done. But I don't think I could handle the media and everyone else being that far into our personal business. As soon as we agree to this we're going to have zero privacy.”

Drake sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well that's the thing. Nicholas approached me a week before we left for our honeymoon. And I already told him we'd do it. While we've been away they already started working on our nursery back at Valtoria.”

“You what?! How dare you..” Kate goes pale with shock, and then her eyes go dark with rage. Without thinking twice about it she slaps Drake hard on the cheek.

He staggers backward a step and then raises his hand to his hot, stinging face. His eyes water as he looks at her again. “I..I guess I deserved that. I'm sorry Kate. I really am.”

“How dare you make this decision for me, for us, based on your own twisted sense of loyalty? I suppose Nicholas coming to us to ask this morning was just a formality. He doesn't give a damn if I say no, because it's already arranged. He assumes I'm pregnant, and can't wait to tell the press his god damned heir is on the way.”

Drake nods. “Yeah pretty much, there's going to be a press conference waiting for us back in Valtoria. And after we get settled in and meet with the Royal Council, you and I have a doctor's appointment.”

“So I'm just supposed to smile graciously and go along with this farce? As if it isn't batshit crazy? As if I'm going to wear a gopro camera on my thigh that's pointed right at my crotch so everyone can see what comes or doesn't come out of it.” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her rage still simmering under the surface.

Drake frowns at her, throwing up his hands in disgust, “Seriously Kate, that's ridiculous. That's not how it will be at all.”

“Oh really? Just you wait. We'll be all over the tabloids within a week. And if I dare refuse to let my unborn child become the heir I'll be roasted and torn apart. As if becoming the newly minted Duke and Duchess hasn't already made us celebrities, our newborn is going to be the most targeted person in the country. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. How we're going to survive this.” Her fists clenched in anger she looks at something to throw at him.

Drake's finally had enough, he's been slapped and he didn't want to see Kate start flipping over tables and throwing things at him. His patience is gone.

“What would you have me do? His back is to the wall and the vultures are circling. He all but begged me to help him out. I couldn't say no.” he argues, his voice rising.

Kate crosses her arms, sizing Drake up with his bare chest heaving, his eyes dark with passion, wearing nothing but shorts. Damn he was sexy when he was fired up, but right now she definitely wasn't in the mood. She feels a sleazy thought enter her mind, knowing it was a low blow, but she couldn't help it. When he went behind her back and agreed to this bullshit he had crossed a line. Walking up to Drake with a smile on her face she kneels down on the floor in front of him and looks up. Her smile quickly replaced by a look of disgust,

“Oh he begged? Was he on his knees like this when he did it? Did he look up at you with hunger in his eyes? Did he offer to suck your godamned dick if you said yes?”

Drake backs away from her in horror, feeling dirty and violated by her accusation.

“What? No! Of course not. Jesus Kate. What's gotten into you?”

Kate gets up off the floor, grabbing a throw pillow off the sofa and hurling it at his head. He ducks and scowls at her, “Hey! Stop it.”

Kate scoffs, with derision. “Pfft, I know what's not getting into me tonight is you! You can sleep on the fucking sofa! Oh and enjoy your damned dinner with Nicholas, I won't be there.”

Turning on her heel she storms into the bedroom and slams the door.

[hellospunkiebrewster]

Flight Risk - Part VI

Author’s note: There’s a hundred million more things to be said in this chapter, but I didn’t want it to be a billion words long. Part VII will be dropping either tomorrow or Wednesday because of it. Thank you so much for sticking with me and if you need to catch up, here you go:

Prologue - Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V

Summary: The statements Liam recorded reach Cordonia and send the country into a complete whirlwind. The palace must deal with the unexpected effects of Liam’s declarations about them.

Perma-tags: @madaraism, @mfackenthal

Tags: @theroyalweisme, @viktoriapetit, @hopefulmoonobject, @captainkingliam, @captain-kingliamsqueen, @syltti78, @pbchoicesobsessed, @queencatherynerhys, @jamielea81, @bobasheebaby, @ranishajay, @blackcatkita, @jlouise88, @choiceswreckedme, @hamulau, @umccall71, @darley1101, @gardeningourmet, @ayo-minty-jess, @drakelover78, @jayjay879, @ehkw1989 (Please let me know if I missed anyone.)

The multiple statements that Liam recorded and released to the media played on Cordonian television and radio non-stop since their release. One statement for each day since the first one. The first one only scratched the surface, each subsequent one went into gory details about Constantine’s management of the crown’s finances, his manipulation of vulnerable nobles, and his meddling in the private affairs of his children. Liam even aired his own dirty laundry, maintaining a relationship with Lady Riley after his engagement to Madeleine, keeping it from the public, and supporting her in an investigation into the allegations. Regina had all but memorized them word for word. She found herself mouthing the words as he spoke them, as if they were a familiar song played on the radio in the background. Constantine had withdrawn entirely, feeling the pressure more than ever for him to explain himself and still he refused. The current climate painted him as the villain, the public saw him as enemy number one, and he knew his sons certainly felt that way.

Bastien’s contact had stopped notifying him when the new statements would go public. The television was now a permanent fixture in the suite, always tuned to CBC, always droning on about Liam’s statements. He varied the times of the statement releases, making them unable to preempt them. Correspondents flocked to New York City, hoping to be the ones to find him. Political analysts talked constantly about the meaning behind his words, behind his every gesture, and what it could mean for Cordonia. The public marveled at his bravery in being honest, how noble and sacrificing that was for his country. They adored his underdog love story and Riley was a press darling all through her time in Cordonia. Now he was polling off the charts, higher than thought possible. Crowds formed outside the palace and in the city square, calling for consequences for the King Father and begging for Liam to return.

A new hour starts on the CBC and with it the analysts and reporters start over with the same talking points they spoke on the hour previous. The hour starts with an excerpt from Liam’s latest statement, he’s clean shaven in the latest one, his hair in place:

‘When my father was king he saw fit to manipulate individuals in the nobility, in the guard, and members of the public. He had no regard for their feelings after the fact, once they’d realized what they’d done. Once others realized what they’d done. The actions of these people are something they will have to live with for the rest of their lives and unlike my father, they have a conscience.’

The analysts begin to again pick apart the statement. This one was the worst for Constantine. For generations before him, the crown lived extravagantly, an exclusive club for those lucky enough to be born into it. That lifestyle, those traditions, came with a cost. A high cost. It was to be expected Regina reconciles with herself. The public is now more aware of wealth disparity between themselves and the royals and it made them angry, but never like this. Manipulation, drawing innocent people into your schemes using information you might not even have, blackmail, the public found unforgivable. Regina could hear the dull roar of the chants outside even over the shrill urgency of the voices on the television, calling for them to leave, some calling for much worse.

Regina turns off the television, the drone of the crowd outside permeating the suite in it’s absence.

--

Madeleine is in the car on the way to Fydelia when her phone starts buzzing incessantly. Her mother, Kiara, Regina, Maxwell. Leo. She read the story pausing halfway through to listen to Liam’s statement. She could barely believe her ears. He was taking control of the situation, of the country, with just this brief statement. When she was first introduced to Liam, as her betrothed’s little brother, he seemed far too kind and sweet to be capable of something so bold and audacious. The family always knew he was the more level-headed of the two, but he was always quieter, always listening.

It appeared that he had been listening quite well all those years. She was almost proud.

Then the bitter taste of regret fills her mouth. She couldn’t be sure how she would weather this storm. After all the lying and manipulation, she couldn’t know what the public would think of her. There was so much more to the story than what he said in those few minutes. Could he, would he clear the air entirely?

Madeleine returns home still in shock that Liam had the balls to do it. He pulled the rug out from under the entire royal family, from under a good portion of the nobility. The public always valued honesty and selflessness. He had become a martyr in those short minutes, in those few paragraphs. She checks her messages for the first time since realizing something huge happened.

Kiara is in shock, worried not about the implications for her family but for the country for the world as a whole. She worried what it would do for Cordonia’s standing. Kiara’s family would be fine, they didn’t have a dog in this fight. Her father was never one to get wrapped up in the more shady dealings of Constantine’s even though they had once been good friends. 

Her mother, obviously drunk in her message, seems ready to let it all burn to the ground. She could live comfortably off of champagne from the savings in one of their accounts alone.

Regina’s message is angry. She spits vile names at her step-son and dotes over an ailing Constantine, not expecting him to take any responsibility for his actions. Her words aren’t for Madeleine, they’re for herself, reassuring herself that what he’d done had been in the best interests of the country. That the people would see that. Madeleine was almost shocked she had the gall to leave her a message.

Maxwell sounds almost celebratory. Happy to have heard from his friends and that he could finally stop holding in this secret. The secret of everything that happened since the Coronation. Finally, Leo’s voice comes through, rich and deep.

‘I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now, Liam’s in New York. He married Riley. I guess we Rys brothers have something for Americans.’ There’s a short laugh in his pause and it makes her smile. He sighs.

‘Maddie, I don’t know how to reach them. My brother and Riley. If you do could you let me know? I think it’s important he and I speak. No one else in the world knows what he’s going through right now better than I do. Thanks, I guess. Please, let me know.’

The message started off awkward and a little joking, but his last words were sad and desperate. A slight crack in his voice. All these years and they had thought Leo had moved on from this world, but Cordonia’s hurt obviously still got to him too. He always made himself scarce, choosing to stay at home, to take care of his family. Madeleine now realized that maybe, it had been because it was a bit too painful to see his family, to see her, to see his country without him in the picture. He couldn’t hang around, to truly be supportive of his brother. Staying would always force them to recall what happened, to always question Liam. Staying would mean people would ask him his opinion. The station of being king was never for him, the schedules and rules, but Cordonia was still his home. It was still filled with people he loved.

She struggled so much against herself to not call him again. It was the middle of the night there. She was positive he was sleepless, hoping for any news, but she didn’t have anything to offer him.

--

They knew beyond a shadow of a doubt where Liam and Riley were. Each of the videos were traceable back to a block in Chinatown. Bastien quickly had the members of the security detail who were sent overseas stationed nearby. They reported back to him on their actions within the city, having a few opportunities to bring them in to the consulate. Bastien told them time and time again to stand down. Each day presented a new and difficult challenge for him, to make it look like he had been trying to bring Liam home when in reality he kind of wanted him to live life for a while. He didn’t think Liam could stay away much longer, he had unfinished business here. He wasn’t one to avoid it.

The phone ringing pulls him from his thoughts, it’s an American number. He braces himself for the voice he thinks he’ll hear on the other end of the line. He answers and it’s not him, it’s the other Rys brother.

“How can I help you Leo?”

“That’s one hell of welcome. It’s nice to talk to you too Bastien.” He pauses expecting some sort of small talk from him. He doesn’t have anything else to say. Leo sighs and continues, “You must know where they are by now Bastien, you have to, or at least how to reach them.”

“I know where they are, they haven’t been in contact with anyone since they left. The first thing we’d heard was Liam’s statement.” He shouldn’t be telling him this. The entire investigation was supposed to be completely under wraps, no one was to know besides the King Father, Queen Mother, his closest agents, and himself but this was getting out of hand.

“I want to speak to him, I’m the only person who has even the tiniest idea what he’s going through right now. He’s let all this out and it’s cathartic of course, but it’s destroying his home. Our home.” Bastien notes a hint of desperation in his voice.

“In Manhattan, Chinatown, somewhere in the area of Mott and Canal. That’s the closest we’ve been able to pinpoint.” He lied slightly. That information was highly confidential but he did give Leo an approximate location. Leo chuckles lightly on the other end of the line.

“I have a feeling you’re not telling me the whole story, but I’ll make do.”

He knows he can make do, Leo is the only person who had been able to shake him as his tail on multiple occasions. Bastien doesn’t answer, his eyes close and his head rolls back against his chair. The secrets, the investigation, this was all so exhausting when there was a perfectly good remedy to this, one that would continue the monarchy without the entire thing spinning out of control like this. Constantine’s cousin. His sons. Constantine was too proud to entertain the thought and he was supported blindly by Regina. Bastien rubs the bridge of  his nose with his free hand as he continues to hold the phone wordlessly to his ear. Leo clears his throat on the other end of the line.

“Thank you.” He sounds as if he’s ready to say goodbye when something overtakes him. “Do you think I should come to Cordonia?”

Bastien pushes out a long exhale. “I’m not sure what good that would do now, without Liam here. Your presence will only remind people of your abdication, especially now, when there’s no one to throw your support behind. Since they refuse to move on.” Bastien takes a breath. “God knows why they like you so much.”

He can hear the smile in Leo’s voice when he responds, “They say it’s the eyes.” Another lull in the conversation, Bastien grins.

“Goodbye Bastien.”

Several days later he’d gotten word from one of his agents in the United States that Riley and Liam had left their apartment and got in a taxi headed to the airport. About an hour later, it was confirmed that they had purchased tickets at the airport to fly to Cordonia.

--

Liam feels only a slight lightening of his heart when the Cordonian airport comes into view. He wishes he knew what to expect at the gate. He is exhausted and completely spent from the past few days. This last week had been absolute insanity, throwing him from the highest of highs to the deepest lows constantly. He feels his shoulders ache with the stress they’re bearing. Riley’s slender hand had not left his since they left their apartment in Manhattan over twelve hours ago. She stole glances at him all flight, barely ate, worry and anxiety etched on her face. She wanted so badly to comfort him, to support this, but he could tell she didn’t know what would be coming to the both of them once their feet were firmly on the ground.

Her entire frame sagged with the weight of his decisions the closer their plane got to the gate. Every moment on the plane had been complete agony for her. She had been assaulted in this country, been told she was the one whose actions were in question. She was doubted and outright put through a hell that no other person involved in his life had been through. Every action, every word, every moment of hers was under a microscope from the very beginning. He hated to do it to her again. They would’ve been happy in New York if it weren’t for his father and Regina. He feels her hand squeeze his, as if she’s reminding herself why she’s subjecting herself to it all again.

The plane slides to a gentle stop and the familiar dings of the seatbelt light sound. There’s a flurry of clicks all around them as people rise to gather their things. Riley doesn’t move and neither does he, not until he knows she’s ready for this. He can hear her taking deep, measured breaths beside him, her hand still wrapped in his. People begin to file out of the plane, past them, not noticing them. Finally when it’s silent again, she speaks.

“Are you sure about this?” He’s heard her utter that question at least a hundred times. The first time, when he was only coming around to the idea of leaving the throne behind for her. Those times, her voice had been light with disbelief, like she was living in a dream. Surreal. Her words were heavy now. Somber. He can feel her eyes on the side of his face as he looks down at his lap.

“I don’t know.”

Silence again, before she speaks. She was always uncomfortable with silence. “In any case, I don’t think they’ll just turn the plane around and go back. So I guess we’ve got to get up.” He smiles in spite of himself. He can feel her shifting beside him and he looks at her. In an instant, her lips are on his and they tell him everything. He can feel her love for him, her support, her embrace, her complete, unwavering confidence in him, and some of her own self doubt. She pulls back.

“I love you.” She didn’t have to say it, he knows it in every tiny particle of his body that she does. Even in this singular painful moment. He’ll never tire of hearing it. She stands, still holding on to his hand. He wants to say something, anything, but there are no words for what he’s feeling. So incredibly grateful. Maybe. But it was so much more than that.

Outside of the plane at the gate it was a complete circus in the airport terminal. A crowd had gathered, people were cheering, screaming, the moment they came into view from the tunnel. Liam’s hand tightens around Riley’s before releasing it and putting his hand around her back, his hand resting on her hip, pulling her closer to him. Flashes blind them and shutters snap furiously. She looks at him in disbelief.

“We must’ve been spotted heading to the airport,” he says, so quiet in his complete shock. There’s a tiny gap in the action before someone shouts.

“Welcome home Your Majesty!”

“We love you Lady Riley!”

They make their way past the thickest part of the crowd before they’re greeted by Bastien and a couple members of the Royal Guard. Liam nods to Bastien, he figured if anyone got wind of their plans, it would be him. They’d be getting an escort to the palace, whether they wanted it or not. Bastien looked like he absolutely did not want to be there. One guard steps forward and grasps Liam’s free arm, pulling him from Riley’s side. He wrenches his arm from his grasp and in the exact same moment the other guard grabs the arm that had just been around Riley’s waist.

They could tell by Bastien’s eyes that his heart wasn’t in it any longer. His shoulders were slightly slumped from their usual place of confidence and authority. Sleeplessness was steeped in his eyes and his face bore the weight of the conflict inside of him. He’d sworn to serve, regardless of his feelings, but the cost had become too great.

“What am I being detained for?” he asks too tired to pull against the other guard’s grip on him.

“Sir, you’re being held as an enemy of the crown.”

“But I am the crown.”

[bluboothalassophile]

Blu, I have had an though of what if Raven got taken in by John Constantine instead of the Teen Titans. Also I love your writing. It always brightens my day when I see you have posted. Oh, and all the spoiler shorts make me want the stories more. Thank you for all your writing. 💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️. (>0.0)>

Hello!

And I’m so happy to hear that! As to  your request, I like the way you think and I hope you enjoy the story!

Fathers…

John Constantine was many things, demon adopter was not onthe list as he stared down at a little demoness looking at him with wide,innocent, dark eyes and tangled black hair in the depths of Hell.

He had come here to kill this little menace.

Before the menace was a real threat.

He’d even come with the tools to do it and make it stick.But looking at this little girl, he couldn’t as he smoked his cigarette andthought his options through carefully. If he didn’t eliminate her then shewould grow and succumb to her father, and if her father was unleashed on theworld of the living. But if he did eliminate her, he would be killing a child,and Constantine didn’t kill children. He had one on his conscience and he didn’tneed another.

“Are you here to kill me?” the girl asked, a warm, sulfurscented breeze ruffled her hair.

The question knocked him back, it was like a punch to thegut, and he pulled the cigarette as he flicked it away. “What do you think I’mhere to do, love?”

“I think you don’t know.” she answered softly. “I’m notevil. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Constantine asked.

“I just wanted to meet my dad,” she whispered.

“Oh,” he sighed. “Come on kid.”

She looked up again and he scooped her up as he opened theportal and walked into the House of Mystery. He might come to regret this, buthe couldn’t leave the kid there to fend for herself.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” a scream had him bolting up in hisbed as he shoved Zed off him, grabbed pants and yanked open the door to seeRaven come barreling down the hall screaming as Deadman, Boston Brand and Chasran behind her.

In the four months since taking in the demon he had learnther name was Raven, not the Gem of Scath and calling her the Gem got himblasted. She was eager to learn, anything, she was so magically adept that he hadto start teaching her after she started figuring out how to read ruins. She wasalso more than willing to abide by his rules, and learning about morals andethics. She was Azarathian, her mother was Arella Roth. She was an empath. Shehad demon behaviors and characteristics which seemed to be a minor influence onher. Otherwise she seemed to be a normal human child, and after a nosey hag hadstarted sticking her nose into his business, he had simply adopted Raven. Evenfiling legal papers in England after forging her citizenship papers. Raven hadtaken rather quickly to calling him Dad and Daddy.

“What is it!?”

“Demon!” Raven launched herself at him, he caught her justas Etrigan rounded the corner with a roar.

“Oh Fuck!” Constantine slammed the door shut as he ranthrough a portal with Raven.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“You can’t be the real Devil,” Raven stated to the Devil’s face.Constantine blinked at this sight as his twelve year old sat in Lux withLucifer looking like a cat ate the canary with Raven, it was the only placeConstantine could think of with a female demon to explain puberty to Raven. Mazikeenwas here, and she was the only female demon he knew to be alive at this oldage.

“Constantine, she is just a darling little pet,” Luciferdeclared.

“Careful Lucifer, this is the Gem,” Mazikeen said walkingaround Raven.

“Nonsense, she’s my darling granddaughter, and I insist youbring her around more often,” Lucifer declared.

“Are you my daddy’s daddy?” Raven asked.

“Trigon’s creator,” Lucifer clarified.

“Oh, I never had a grandpa.”

“Fuck,” Constantine muttered. Mazikeen just looked vastlyamused.

“Then I’m your aunt Maze,” Maze decided.

Raven just nodded and smiled deviously, Constantine had afeeling that her enemies should be wary.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Ten years of having Raven as his daughter this was the firsttime he had left her behind on a job, it was for the best because he had kepthis daughter away from the Young Justice Team for this very reason.

“Constantine,” Fate greeted him.

“I heard you have a problem of Chaos,” Constantine saidlooking up at the screen past the League members.

“Our team is trapped in an energy field of some sort,”Batman said. Constantine’s eyes flicked up at the ruins dancing.

“You have fought something like this we were wondering ifyou could get around it, the children are trapped,” Diana stated.

“I never got around this,” Constantine admitted reluctantly.Flicking his cigarette away he exhaled as he stared at the screens.

“What do you mean?” Fate demanded, he could see Zatara inthere then, trying to break the surface of Nabu’s hold.

“I mean I have never gotten around this barrier, the onetime I did it was because of help I had.”

“Help from who!?” the League sputtered.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason covered Artemis as there were blasts at them from thatpsycho brat. Jason wanted to kill him.

“I can’t get close to him!” Zatanna shouted.

“Come out! Come out to play!” Klarion cackled.

“I’m going to kill him!” Jason snarled.

Then the shadows warped, she breezed by him. He stilled, theindifferent, pale, girl looked like she was more shadows than human and abouthis age. Her eyes were cold, dark, and she moved like a ballerina with thisfloating grace.

“Didn’t anyone tell you to pick on kids your own sizeKlarion?” she asked so coldly as a surge of power rippled in the dome they weretrapped in.

She was the prettiest woman Jason had ever seen, as hepeeked over the rock. She wore a black trench coat, black boots, jeans and aworn shirt for Deadpool; the drawing, and ‘Ouchie!’ written on the caption.Fuck she was sexy as she stood there.

“Well, they sent you to play with me, Gem,” Klarion cackled.

“Get out of here,” the girl ordered as a portal was tornopen.

“It can’t be,” Zatanna started.

“Don’t know about you, but we’re out of here!” Dick declared,and Jason shoved his teammates through the portal before running in himself. Lastwords he heard were:

“Show me what you got, you prat.”

~~~*~*~*~~~

“We are welcoming a new teammate, today,” Bruce stood therein the cowl beside a rumpled blond man who looked half put together smoking acigarette.

“Who?” Dick demanded. Jason had a guess.

“John Constantine’s adopted daughter, Raven,” Bruce continuedas if Dick hadn’t spoken.

Jason blinked when she walked out of the shadows again, herlong black hair pulled back in a ponytail, she wore a trench coat, and lookedmore put together than her father in jeans, boots, and a grey t-shirt then.

“Hello,” she said.

“You can’t be serious! She’s a demon!” Zatanna shouted.

“A demon who saved our asses!” Jason snapped as he walkedforward. “Robin.”

“Raven,” she answered taking his hand.

“You’re awesome, and thanks for kicking his ass.”

“No problem.” she smiled. He was gone. Sunk.

Jason was pretty sure he’d just found the love of his life.A dangerous little bird.

[gamerszone2019-blog]

Greedfall Review

New Post has been published on https://gamerszone.tn/greedfall-review/

Greedfall Review

There’s religious fanaticism, and then there’s Inquisitor Aloysius from Greedfall, a man so excessively villainous his whole schtick borders on farcical. A member of Thélème, one of the game’s six factions, he appears when you first step into the town square of the city San-Matheus. What draws your eye is the sight of a hulking woodland beast howling in pain while tied to a stake in an enormous burning pyre, as a captured native islander looks on helplessly. When asked why the creature and his people are subjected to such cruelty, the Inquisitor bellows an odious response about cleansing the corrupt souls of his tribe. Then in one swift movement, he yanks the islander’s head, stabs the poor soul with a knife, and yells obscenities about heresies into the sky.

That uncomfortable scene is emblematic of the plot in Greedfall; its tales of colonialism and political subterfuge are tackled with such little nuance that it verges on parody. The islanders wear face paint, have heavy accents, and venerate the woodland beasts as deities, while the cardinals, bishops, and alchemists refer to them as savages that need enlightenment or salvation. Greedfall relies heavily on these kinds of blunt narrative tropes for its setting, much in the same way it does on a very familiar open-world RPG structure. And while it’s very easy to lose yourself in its competent, if comfortable, formula, it means that Greedfall ultimately feels unremarkable at best.

You play as the charming diplomat De Sardet from the Congregation of Merchants, who’s in charge of brokering peace between two warring factions: the Thélème, a theocratic nation that preach their gospel heavily and want to convert as many natives as possible, even if it’s by force, and the Bridge Alliance, home to a nation of alchemists who wield their vast and incomparable knowledge of science for political ends.

Both factions want to colonize a mystical island called Teer Fradee, which is brimming with fantastical flora and fauna. They, as well as the clans of indigenous people who are resisting their incursions, seek your help for their own ends. But that’s not all; you also have something you want from the island: the cure for the Malicor, a mysterious plague devastating your home. In short, everyone wants a piece of this enchanted isle, and your task is to navigate through this political minefield for the best outcome–whatever you think that is.

Greedfall attempts to tweak certain aspects of its otherwise conventional colonialist plot (the islanders aren’t depicted as crazed natives or hungry cannibals, and the factions are somewhat multicultural), but beyond a vague sense of awareness about its oppressive legacy, Greedfall’s heavy-handed themes never make way for anything more nuanced or interesting. Sure, it highlights the exploitative behaviors of the Thélème and Bridge Alliance factions, but their actions are so moustache-twirling malicious that they become mere caricatures of evildoers.

Even your companions and other characters are cookie-cutter emblems of their group: Siora is the native princess who wishes to seek peace for her clan; Petrus is the religious Thélème advisor with tons of political savvy; and Kurt is the loyal, headstrong mercenary whose stoic demeanour can barely disguise his world-weariness. Most damning of all is your character, De Sardet, who, as the big hero, embodies the “white man’s burden” allegory that also plagues other colonial-themed narratives; it’s all on you to liberate the natives or unite the factions against them.

Greedfall’s saving grace is that its role-playing systems are adequate, and the game’s greatest strength is how well it sticks to what is tried-and-tested. It features mechanical design that’s common in the genre–exploring, looting, questing, etc–but it’s also savvy enough to incorporate the best versions of these elements–most notably it feels like it draws inspiration from CD Projekt Red’s The Witcher 3, a title I couldn’t stop making mental comparisons to.

At the beginning, you’re given the choice of playing as one of three character archetypes: the melee-focused warrior, the stealthy gunslinger, or the spell-wielding tactician. But you’re also given the flexibility to break out of these standard classes through an array of skill trees. As you progress through the game, you can freely invest hard-earned points, which opens up a variety of methods you can approach combat with and even how you resolve quests–be it bludgeoning your way through conflict with a two-handed axe or wearing a horde of rampaging beasts down with poison traps.

And, as has become common in open-world RPGs, Greedfall also comes with a crafting system. Materials are in abundance–enemies, from human foes to wild animals, drop them frequently, while crates and jugs across most cities are bursting with goodies you can loot. One constraint, however, is that you can only craft upgrades to armor and weapons you own, rather than cobble brand-new equipment altogether. This streamlines crafting, and it also encourages you to still seek out better equipment. Meanwhile, combat is more than just a frenzied blur of swords and gunplay too; you can make tactical pauses to examine your enemies closely, change your target, consider your combat options, or silently contemplate how stunning your swashbuckling buccaneer looks in the heat of action.

Greedfall suffers from some bugs, primitive systems, and even glaring spelling errors, however. Some dialogue is clearly skewed towards a male De Sardet; in my playthrough as a female De Sardet, several characters still referred to me as “he.” The stealth mechanism is also unintentionally hilarious. When on a stealth mission, enemies tend to treat companions as invisible; they will not notice two big, oafish men blundering about in front of them, but will jump out of their skins when they notice De Sardet peeking out from behind a nearby crate. Romancing your companions is also another thing you can do in the game, but the moves you need to make to get into their hearts (and under the sheets) are so perfunctory, it’s almost unmemorable. You engage in a three-part companion quest with the lover of your choice, where you’ll find conversations that give you the chance to maximize your romance meter. But the game makes it obvious when you’ve said something wrong (characters will retort back unhappily, accompanied by a numerical drop in your reputation), so it’s an easy process to save scum, and the ultimate reward is a not-very-saucy bedroom cutscene.

In spite of the game’s blundering narrative issues, it’s still easy to get hooked into the rhythm of exploring, crafting, brawling, investigating, and interacting with the host of characters and beasts, while getting lost among the beautiful lush greenery of Teer Fradee. Running into more challenging enemies or engaging in boss fights are a particular treat, since it’s an opportunity to pit your hard-earned combat abilities against formidable foes. And tucked within the story, as hackneyed as it is, are occasional glimpses of genuine humanity, such as De Sardet’s close relationship with their cousin Constantin, who’s also the new governor of Teer Fradee.

But ultimately, because Greedfall is so cavalier about its colonialist themes, and because it plays it safe by sticking so closely to the template of open-world RPGs, it doesn’t really feel revelatory in any way. Instead, it’s content to be just another digital playground–just another world filled with magic, riches, secrets, and monsters for players to shoot and loot at will. I did have fun when I got lost in its familiar RPG loop, but its lack of nuance or innovation prevents it from being truly remarkable.

Source : Gamesport

[gamerszone2019-blog]

Greedfall Review - Deja Vu

New Post has been published on https://gamerszone.tn/greedfall-review-deja-vu/

Greedfall Review - Deja Vu

There’s religious fanaticism, and then there’s Inquisitor Aloysius from Greedfall, a man so excessively villainous his whole schtick borders on farcical. A member of Thélème, one of the game’s six factions, he appears when you first step into the town square of the city San-Matheus. What draws your eye is the sight of a hulking woodland beast howling in pain while tied to a stake in an enormous burning pyre, as a captured native islander looks on helplessly. When asked why the creature and his people are subjected to such cruelty, the Inquisitor bellows an odious response about cleansing the corrupt souls of his tribe. Then in one swift movement, he yanks the islander’s head, stabs the poor soul with a knife, and yells obscenities about heresies into the sky.

That uncomfortable scene is emblematic of the plot in Greedfall; its tales of colonialism and political subterfuge are tackled with such little nuance that it verges on parody. The islanders wear face paint, have heavy accents, and venerate the woodland beasts as deities, while the cardinals, bishops, and alchemists refer to them as savages that need enlightenment or salvation. Greedfall relies heavily on these kinds of blunt narrative tropes for its setting, much in the same way it does on a very familiar open-world RPG structure. And while it’s very easy to lose yourself in its competent, if comfortable, formula, it means that Greedfall ultimately feels unremarkable at best.

You play as the charming diplomat De Sardet from the Congregation of Merchants, who’s in charge of brokering peace between two warring factions: the Thélème, a theocratic nation that preach their gospel heavily and want to convert as many natives as possible, even if it’s by force, and the Bridge Alliance, home to a nation of alchemists who wield their vast and incomparable knowledge of science for political ends.

Both factions want to colonize a mystical island called Teer Fradee, which is brimming with fantastical flora and fauna. They, as well as the clans of indigenous people who are resisting their incursions, seek your help for their own ends. But that’s not all; you also have something you want from the island: the cure for the Malicor, a mysterious plague devastating your home. In short, everyone wants a piece of this enchanted isle, and your task is to navigate through this political minefield for the best outcome–whatever you think that is.

Greedfall attempts to tweak certain aspects of its otherwise conventional colonialist plot (the islanders aren’t depicted as crazed natives or hungry cannibals, and the factions are somewhat multicultural), but beyond a vague sense of awareness about its oppressive legacy, Greedfall’s heavy-handed themes never make way for anything more nuanced or interesting. Sure, it highlights the exploitative behaviors of the Thélème and Bridge Alliance factions, but their actions are so moustache-twirling malicious that they become mere caricatures of evildoers.

Even your companions and other characters are cookie-cutter emblems of their group: Siora is the native princess who wishes to seek peace for her clan; Petrus is the religious Thélème advisor with tons of political savvy; and Kurt is the loyal, headstrong mercenary whose stoic demeanour can barely disguise his world-weariness. Most damning of all is your character, De Sardet, who, as the big hero, embodies the “white man’s burden” allegory that also plagues other colonial-themed narratives; it’s all on you to liberate the natives or unite the factions against them.

Greedfall’s saving grace is that its role-playing systems are adequate, and the game’s greatest strength is how well it sticks to what is tried-and-tested. It features mechanical design that’s common in the genre–exploring, looting, questing, etc–but it’s also savvy enough to incorporate the best versions of these elements–most notably it feels like it draws inspiration from CD Projekt Red’s The Witcher 3, a title I couldn’t stop making mental comparisons to.

At the beginning, you’re given the choice of playing as one of three character archetypes: the melee-focused warrior, the stealthy gunslinger, or the spell-wielding tactician. But you’re also given the flexibility to break out of these standard classes through an array of skill trees. As you progress through the game, you can freely invest hard-earned points, which opens up a variety of methods you can approach combat with and even how you resolve quests–be it bludgeoning your way through conflict with a two-handed axe or wearing a horde of rampaging beasts down with poison traps.

And, as has become common in open-world RPGs, Greedfall also comes with a crafting system. Materials are in abundance–enemies, from human foes to wild animals, drop them frequently, while crates and jugs across most cities are bursting with goodies you can loot. One constraint, however, is that you can only craft upgrades to armor and weapons you own, rather than cobble brand-new equipment altogether. This streamlines crafting, and it also encourages you to still seek out better equipment. Meanwhile, combat is more than just a frenzied blur of swords and gunplay too; you can make tactical pauses to examine your enemies closely, change your target, consider your combat options, or silently contemplate how stunning your swashbuckling buccaneer looks in the heat of action.

Greedfall suffers from some bugs, primitive systems, and even glaring spelling errors, however. Some dialogue is clearly skewed towards a male De Sardet; in my playthrough as a female De Sardet, several characters still referred to me as “he.” The stealth mechanism is also unintentionally hilarious. When on a stealth mission, enemies tend to treat companions as invisible; they will not notice two big, oafish men blundering about in front of them, but will jump out of their skins when they notice De Sardet peeking out from behind a nearby crate. Romancing your companions is also another thing you can do in the game, but the moves you need to make to get into their hearts (and under the sheets) are so perfunctory, it’s almost unmemorable. You engage in a three-part companion quest with the lover of your choice, where you’ll find conversations that give you the chance to maximize your romance meter. But the game makes it obvious when you’ve said something wrong (characters will retort back unhappily, accompanied by a numerical drop in your reputation), so it’s an easy process to save scum, and the ultimate reward is a not-very-saucy bedroom cutscene.

In spite of the game’s blundering narrative issues, it’s still easy to get hooked into the rhythm of exploring, crafting, brawling, investigating, and interacting with the host of characters and beasts, while getting lost among the beautiful lush greenery of Teer Fradee. Running into more challenging enemies or engaging in boss fights are a particular treat, since it’s an opportunity to pit your hard-earned combat abilities against formidable foes. And tucked within the story, as hackneyed as it is, are occasional glimpses of genuine humanity, such as De Sardet’s close relationship with their cousin Constantin, who’s also the new governor of Teer Fradee.

But ultimately, because Greedfall is so cavalier about its colonialist themes, and because it plays it safe by sticking so closely to the template of open-world RPGs, it doesn’t really feel revelatory in any way. Instead, it’s content to be just another digital playground–just another world filled with magic, riches, secrets, and monsters for players to shoot and loot at will. I did have fun when I got lost in its familiar RPG loop, but its lack of nuance or innovation prevents it from being truly remarkable.

Source : Gamesport