#Continuous Hinges Installation

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

can i be honest? im a fan of azul but his dream felt like it lacked impact. there were some very interesting moments and its better than the prediction that he would already be rich and own the world

like really? azul becomes a famous athlete and bullies others, then he takes over night raven? i feel like his struggles with his own identity and food could have been further explored and he is based off of ursula, which should extend to vanessa, right? it was the perfect reason to give him a total makeover and show that he has to be comfortable in his own skin before anything else, even if his other ness was what made him a target of bullying in the first place

your thoughts and worries on book 7 post has affected my perspective and i cant help but feel like something is missing 🥲 maybe all the budget went into Jade and Floyd?

[Referencing this post!]

As I’ve previously expressed, I have a lot of my own complicated feelings about the direction book 7 is taking, specifically with how the OB boys’ dream segments are presented and resolved. Azul’s dream is no different; it felt very contrived due to the formula TWST insists on running with in every new installment. It’s becoming even more apparent with each update, and it is really grating on me.

But!! Before I get to what I believe are shortcomings with Azul’s dream, let’s review what Anon has to say.

I feel like, no matter what, there will always be people claiming that the OB boys’ dreams are “missed opportunities”. This is simply because these characters have much more deep and complex issues than the rest of the cast, so we will naturally scrutinize them more. TWST is basically only able to go with one angle when they tackle the dream, leaving the other threads unexplored. This will surely annoy or disappoint people who wish that TWST would have addressed a different issue instead, or perhaps something closer to their personal interpretation of the events. In Azul’s case, I feel like some people (particularly in the west, not so much in the east) see Azul’s weight concerns or relationship with food as a prominent part of his character, so they wish that book 7 part 10 had looked into that more. However, that was never a big focus in canon, so it follows that TWST would want to dedicate its time and resources to the most pressing thing (which would be more centered on Azul’s general self-confidence, greed, and how those tie into his sense of identity). At the same time, they probably wanted to avoid a lens that is too broad. Having the focus be on Azul’s “otherness” or being an octopus might veer too heavily into something way beyond the scope of the ~10 parts of the story he has to himself.

We also need to consider that these dreams are meant to be shallow interpretations of what the dreamer desires (according to Idia). Only the OB boys get to go more in depth due to bring dragged down into deeper layers of their dreams. Azul wants to be accepted by his peers and is insecure about his lack of athleticism (as one reason why he was bullied was due to not being able to swim as fast as other merchildren). So of course the surface level of his dream makes him a star athlete beloved by all. The whole “his plan succeeds, he steals everyone’s magic, he takes over NRC” thing happens in the second layer of his dream, which, like all previous OB boys, is a dark display of what would have happened had they not been stopped. And finally, Azul being a bully is nothing new—we saw this behavior back in book 3 as well. He became the very thing he despised back when he was a victim, and now he continues to perpetuate that cycle of bullying in an effort to affirm confidence in his “cool” new identity. I think the dream was very intentional in trying to entice him with the promises of power and acceptance. That, in turn, shows us that the desire to be a successful businessman (the thing many of us thought would be his dream) actually hinges on Azul’s longing to be accepted. His struggle with his identity and how it depends on how others perceive him was portrayed. I’m just not sure if the idea was executed in the best way, since it sounds like the message may have gotten muddled along the way and it definitely requires some reading between the lines.

I noticed that you cited my original post where I detailed my concerns about book 7 and how that has influenced your own thoughts 💦 I hope that it just… informed or supplemented your opinions rather than suddenly altered them to be more “in line” with my own. I never want to be the kind of person who claims their interpretations are the “most correct” I’m not Riddle’s mom, okay?? 😭

About Jade and Floyd’s dreams, I feel like those are less heavily critiqued because they, by virtue of not being an OB boy, have fewer stakes and are predominantly there to be silly. It’s like contrasting Epel wanting to be big and buff to Vil literally murdering Neige; there is just no comparison. Even then, I wouldn’t necessarily say Floyd’s and Jade’s parts received “all the budget”… They seemed like pretty basic storylines to me, perhaps dressed up slightly better thanks to the new undersea assets and bioluminescence reveal.

My issues with Azul’s dream segment is how… ham-fisted several elements were. All of it, for the sake of sticking to the pattern already established earlier. It feels so unnatural and stilted because you just KNOW it’s written this way to fit the template 😔 For example:

Why did Jade become SO dumb when they were trying to figure out where Azul had moved the contracts? He’s supposed to be much smarter than how he is presented here. Wouldn’t his immediate thought be to check Azul’s room? But NO, Jade can’t come to that conclusion on his own because we need a contrived reason for each student to use their UM before the ending :/ so Jade has to waste time using his UM to get the truth out of his dream!self.

Jade and Floyd sitting around and going “………….” while they watch Azul make an ass of himself was such a time waster. Clearly you have enough brains to know what would trigger him, so why are you not acting on it???? Oh yeah, because we need to show more cool stuff in this dream like La Grotta!

Azul literally turns to the camera and tells his OB self, “Unlike you, I’ve changed.” It’s way too on the nose with what it’s trying to communicate. It breaks immersion and makes it so obvious the characters are outright stating their character development to make sure we all “get it”.

What was the purpose of Azul using his UM to get the mermobs to sign a contract to give all their power to him???💀 Bro can just say “excuse me, I forgot something back at the Coral Rush field” and they’d probably let him pass. But again, Azul isn’t allowed to do that because he MUST use his UM before the ending. Because Azul’s UM requires that another person willingly agree and sign a contract, his mandatory UM use before the grand finale feels particularly forced.

How many times do I need to listen to Idia/Ortho or other characters warn us about how we can’t have too many people dream hopping or else bugs might happen or Malleus might notice… It’s almost like the devs realize how long this is being dragged out for so they have to remind us every so often.

Not only that, but we get such poorly constructed explanations to keep characters behind while a new character goes with the main group. Why don’t you just leave them all behind once they’re awake then?? Oh yeah, because we NEED to drag along the current student into the next dream so everyone gets a cameo. It’s so inorganic how the characters are chosen to stay behind, Jamil just conveniently volunteers himself while we also listen to another spiel from Silver and Sebek about how their training makes them more stable than the twins to keep dream hopping.

I would actually consider Azul’s dream… serviceable? Like it isn’t fantastic or anything but for what it is, it works. It’s cohesive enough. But god, did I dislike how rigid it was… Nothing happens because it’s natural, it happens because the script demands it happens. To quote another post:

If anyone has played the first Ace Attorney game, this feels a LOT like that part in case 2 where Phoenix is too dumb to check the back of a receipt until Mia literally tells him to. The [characters have] to actively be made stupider because the scenario calls for it, and that really rubs me the wrong way.

[msschemmenti]

hinge - a potential series

eventual melissa schemmenti x reader

synopsis: melissa joins hinge. who will she match with?

a/n: hello yes i know i’ve been gone for over a month after saying i was going to finish some things. my job got SUPER busy! but i’m trying to get back into writing and with that in mind i wanted to do a little writing exercise that i thought could be fun. so basically this will be a one shot series where melissa matches with different readers each installment. i was thinking if you all were interested i could open my requests for descriptions of readers you’d like to see melissa chat with and date! this is just an introductory piece to the vision, but let me know if you all would be interested in submitting readers for this. if not that’s cool as well ahaha! but either way, i hope you enjoy this chaotic prologue.

“You know, you should really get back out there Melissa.” Jacob’s voice floated over Melissa's shoulder. The older woman felt the tension between her eyebrows tighten as she slowly turned to address the young teacher. Not only had he been listening in on her conversation with Barb, but now he was giving advice. She knew they shouldn’t have let him stay for the Christmas dinner, now he thinks he’s a part of their circle. 

"What are ya talking about?" Melissa glared. Jacob had the sense to look a bit squeamish under her gaze but still cleared his throat as if to speak.

"I just mean, it's been months since Gary stopped stocking the vending machine. And kind of disappeared off the face of the Earth. And you're a beautiful woman, who deserves to be treated well. I'm sure there's a sea of men just waiting to make you their wife." Jacob rambled as his face grew red.

"First of all kid, I had nothing to do with Gary's career change and if you tell anyone different we'll have a problem. Second of all, I know I'm hot. I'm a Philly 11. I don't need no man making me his wife. I'm perfectly fine with the way my life is right now. Not that it's any of your business." Melissa scoffed with an eyeroll.

"Well that doesn't mean you can't see what's out there." Janine piped up from her seat next to Jacob.

"Oh you're one to talk, what does that even mean?" Melissa asked.

"Well, I'm not looking for a relationship right now because I'm working on myself. But that doesn't mean I don't want to see who's out there. Or even get a little validation from knowing someone wants me."

Melissa listened curiously, "and how exactly do you do that? Are you going to bars and turning down drinks or something?"

"No! Dating apps. People see my profile and like me but I don't have to say anything back." Janine explained.

"Oh yes! Before I met Zack I had a profile on all of the apps, just to make sure I wasn't missing any of the validation." Jacob added in causing Janine to nod.

"I think that could be good for you." Barb hummed before taking another bite of her salad.

"Not you too!" Melissa groaned before Ava walked through the door swiping on her phone.

"What we talking about?" Ava grinned looking around the tables.

"We're trying to convince Melissa to get back out there. On a dating app."

"Oh you should definitely do that. There's a market of men you're missing out on. Get you a young thing to get all up in that Italian Dressing." Ava said wiggling her eyebrows before reaching to make her coffee.

"Okay. None of that." Melissa groaned as she and Barb shook their heads in disappointment.

"No, you don't have to start out doing that. You can just start out seeing who's out there. Getting some likes, giving some likes, and then if you want to you can move it to chatting. It's all at your own speed." Janine tried to explain.

Before Melissa could even try to continue disagreeing, Ava had finished dumping sugar in her mug and had snatched Melissa's phone from the table. "The question is, what app do we get her on. I think Tinder is out if she's not gonna let any all up in her business. Bumble is dead and boring. What else is there?"

"How about none?"

"Oh Hinge! That ones really good." Jacob volunteered and Ava nodded moving to download the app on the older woman's phone.

"You are insane! Give me back my phone." Melissa tried to lunge at the taller woman.

"Stop fighting girlfriend. Just let it happen." Barbara appeased placing her hand on Melissa's shoulder in an attempt to calm her.

"Oh not you too!" Melissa sighed.

"Give in Schemmenti. I'm already creating your account." Ava grinned flashing the phone toward the older woman.

Seeing the phone, Melissa just shook her head. "I hate all of yous."

Ava took a seat in the middle of the table and smirked over her shoulder at Melissa. "Alright so let's get these questions and pictures together. Gotta show every how hot you are!"

Melissa scoffed but only rolled her eyes in response.

"So I got all the basics, now who are you looking for? Just men? Or are you down for a lil lady action? You seem like you'd know your way around the lady parts." Ava asked.

"Oh my god. You are the WORST!"

"That's not answering my question. You know what, I'll just put it as bisexual for now. Keep your options open. Let's find pictures for the prompts. You have any nudes in here I should be worried about seeing?" Ava asked shielding her eyes playfully.

"No? What kind of lady do you think I am?"

"I don't know. I'm just saying. Okay I already did the first one now the next one is 'As seen on my Mom's fridge', how about this cute picture of you and your blonde sister?"

"Yes that would be cute!" Janine smiled.

"Oh put this picture I secretly took of her crocheting on there. People love crafts!" Jacob said air dropping the photo to Melissa's phone.

"Why are you secretly taking pictures of me?" Melissa glared.

"Oh hush, it's helpful now. Oh a writing prompt, what are your simple pleasures?"

"Food, wine, and the Eagles." Melissa answered quickly.

"Let's say Cooking, wine, and the Eagles. People like cooking." Janine amended.

"Another picture, let's do this cute one with me in the back. That'll really get you some likes. I'm pretty well known around this app."

"Last prompt, the key to your heart?" Janine asked.

"A clean kitchen and an empty stomach." Melissa spoke with a shrug.

"Oh cause you like to cook for people. You're so good at this. Yes." Janine swooned.

"And with that, you're live. Now you just wait for the local baddies to match with you."

As Ava handed the phone, Melissa had no choice but to scroll. Well I guess this is what we're doing now.

"If this ends poorly, all of yous better watch your back."

[vickyvicarious]

I went on to make a thorough examination of the various stairs and passages, and to try the doors that opened from them. One or two small rooms near the hall were open, but there was nothing to see in them except old furniture, dusty with age and moth-eaten. At last, however, I found one door at the top of the stairway which, though it seemed to be locked, gave a little under pressure. I tried it harder, and found that it was not really locked, but that the resistance came from the fact that the hinges had fallen somewhat, and the heavy door rested on the floor. Here was an opportunity which I might not have again, so I exerted myself, and with many efforts forced it back so that I could enter. I was now in a wing of the castle further to the right than the rooms I knew and a storey lower down.

Speculation time: why is this door not locked?

I think there are two main options. In the past I just assumed it was the first one, but now I'm a bit more open to considering the second, which changes the tone of what comes next a bit.

Dracula didn't think he needed to lock it.

First consideration: this is a ways away from Jonathan's rooms and the ones he usually has access to. It's possible that Dracula was less careful about locking away different doors in further reaches of the castle. After all, there are a few other rooms in the hall that are open but don't really have anything to hide. Going along with that consideration, the fact that the door itself was heavy and had fallen on the floor so seemed locked at first, may have been all the justification he needed. It's possible that he didn't think Jonathan would have been able to open the door anyway, so there was no need to bother installing a new lock on a broken door.

If this is the case, then his warning to Jonathan about not sleeping outside of his own bedroom may well have been entirely genuine. Dracula has decided that he wants to keep his solicitor around a while longer, and so he gave him a warning which should ensure he actually stays alive to toy with. He's genuinely surprised and angry to find Jonathan about to be fed upon when he returns.

Dracula knew it could be opened.

While the door is heavy and is stuck, it's not impossible to move. Perhaps Dracula knew that. This year, I have noticed that a couple of the moments where Dracula tells Jonathan not to do something can almost be taken as a challenge. It could match the way he is constantly pushing boundaries in other ways as well - verbally, physically, what-have-you - he is trying to press and find Jonathan's breaking point. So far, Jonathan has just kept bending, and in doing so has avoided snapping (and getting immediately killed). The fact that he obviously knows what is going on but goes along with it anyway is super fun for Dracula, and possibly a big part of the reason he is still alive/his stay has been extended.

But something else Jonathan has done - and will continue to do - is to resist where he can. He doesn't confront Dracula directly but he does sneak around and spy on him. He doesn't mention the many doors being locked including the front door, but he did run around and check a bunch of them. I talked about both the locked doors and the warning about sleep as bait the other day, so I won't rehash all of it... but if it was meant as bait that points to a couple key differences.

Firstly, that Dracula could still be testing Jonathan's limits where he isn't involved. Perhaps it isn't just the way Jonathan reacts to him in person that is so fun for him, but also the way he's always pushing limits in his own way. He takes cues and tries stuff! He keeps Dracula on his toes! It might be just interesting/engaging enough to be fun without being annoying (like any sign that he could actually succeed in escaping/any direct confrontation would be). In that view, Dracula might enjoy dropping hints that give Jonathan what looks like chances to learn things or escape, but which in his opinion won't get him anywhere. The fact that he is able to manipulate Jonathan's behavior with these type of comments could also be a part of the fun, extending his feeling of control over him even through Jonathan trying to resist it.

Of course, this means that Dracula was willing to take a chance that Jonathan would get drunk from first by his roommates, which is the second big difference. There's a couple options there as well: he may have been okay with it since they don't tend to kill immediately (at least until he saw it about to happen and then got more possessive than he'd expected to, and became genuinely angry). He may have wanted to test if Jonathan would ignore his advice but didn't expect him to make progress so quickly (perhaps expecting him to sleep in a different room like the library or hall if he slept anywhere outside his bedroom). This second option could overlap with the first bullet point too actually, where the warning was still meant as bait but Jonathan took way more of the bait than Dracula expected, and he wasn't actually supposed to get access to this room yet/ever. The only downside there is that every other time Jonathan disobeys Dracula he is faced with near-immediate negative consequences to 'punish' him. The ladies serve that purpose very well here, and if Jonathan was supposed to disobey but not meant to meet them, it makes me wonder what the consequence would have been supposed to be.

Still, I do kind of like that last option, because it fits with a recurring theme where Dracula enjoys toying with Jonathan... not realizing that the act of doing so is directly giving Jonathan the tools and information he uses to later defeat him (also contributing to big reversals/exchanged traits between them as Jonathan learns way more than expected). This repeats with Mina as well in a big way, when him establishing a mental connection allows her to spy right back on him. Perhaps Dracula is having fun right now watching Jonathan follow various bread crumbs of hints and try to figure things out and try new ways of escaping, all of which are doomed to failure. But, and this is later exemplified by his diary full of information which he manages to keep despite Dracula stealing all his other things, Jonathan is both accomplishing and learning more than Dracula expects or realizes at every turn. And all of it will eventually be turned against him.

[ahmobbu]

There’s a house in the suburban parts of Seasoning City, just by the outskirts of the city. It is three stories tall, blending a traditional minka style with the (fairly beige) modern design. There’s a plaque by the side of an overflowing mailbox. Hanazawa.

There are stone steps lining the pathway to the entrance. There’s a shoe locker by the genkan, with multiple unused slippers of varying sizes. A coat of dust lines each room.

Speaking of the rooms, on the second floor is the first bedroom. The people in this room have rarely slept in it. Its mattress has hardened and the sheets have never been changed. The door hinges creak when opened, though the instance was rare. The room’s been abandoned before the house was abandoned. There is an extra layer of dust coating it.

But we’re not here to talk about that bedroom. We’re here for the one on the third floor. It takes up most of the space. It has childhood anime posters on the wall and peeling glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. It has an outdated TV and a pink patterned carpet.

This is our focus: the markings by the doorframe. The first one comes at around 73, 74 centimeters. It is unsure how tall exactly. The person being measured must have been all too excited to stay still. The text beside it is written in kanji, with delicate, graceful strokes: Teruki, 1 year old.

There’s one above it, a few centimeters taller: Teruki, 18 months. Then, Teruki, 2 years old. Up until 3 years old, it stays the same. Same pen, same handwriting.

At age 4, the text changes, though it doesn’t seem to want to. The line drawn on 99.5 centimeters is a shaky marker. The text beside it seemed to attempt the delicate kanji of the previous writer, but lacked the skill to do so. The attempt was crossed out in frustration. Written next to it is a blocky Teru, 4 yeers old in hiragana.

This continued on for a few months until the writer learned to write his name in kanji. Still in chunky and big handwriting, the Teru turns to Teruki. The markings ascend from 111 to 119 centimeters. It goes on and on. Sometimes, it’s neither the delicate nor the blocky handwriting. Sometimes it is someone else entirely.

Scratchy with pencil but careful with the strokes, as if the house wasn’t their own. They write Teruki Hanazawa :) beside the measurements. This writer is sporadic in their appearance, but they’re still a presence throughout the markings, even more so than the first.

Years go by. The blocky and the scratchy writer seem to take turns.

The final marking on this door frame is at 148 centimeters. It is labeled in katakana, Teru, 12 years old.

There’s a similar chart to this in a random apartment in the heart of Seasoning City. The markings on the door frame of this is merely replicated from a picture of the last. It continues where the chart leaves off. The next installment is a strange addition.

Teruki, 13 years old - 188 centimeters.

Now, such a growth spurt is improbable for this specific person, but that was not what he was tracking exactly. He had decided, while in this apartment, to track how he feels how tall he is. It’s not a prediction but a mere externalization. The apartment he has is actually not big enough for him, despite its space. He is a giant. He is vast and he is mighty.

Teruki, 13 years old is written in delicate, graceful kanji. It tries to be his mother.

—

For #TerukiWeek2023 on twitter!! the first prompt was growth :D

[ambazaar]

The Bitter Taste of Hibiscus 🌺: Part 3

Shanks x OC

Synopsis: Tessa, due to a complicated past, has an opinion about pirates. An opinion that's become a bit muddled since he came to the village for the first time. It's all inconvenient, really. Falling in love.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Use, Guns, Mention of Facial-Related Injuries, Fluff (may be subject to change)

A/N: Thank you Thank you THANK YOU to all the notes I got on the last chapter. I wasn't sure if people would like it. I was proven wrong! I apologize on the wait for this installment - My life is a mess and doing things is hard. I don't particularly like this chapter. Writing dialog for characters I don't know very well is intimidating and I tend to overthink it. But anyway, here's part 3!

\\\

Makino's ears picked up the thunderous rage echoing from Tessa's boot heels long before she heard her voice, which called out to her in a viciously anxious tone. Makino sighed, having already been nursing a headache from a lack of sleep without being demanded upon every ten minutes, and set the large crate of bottles she'd been carrying on top of the bar to create some form of barrier between her and Tessa. "I thought you'd still be at the cottage," was all she said in response, keeping herself busy.

"I would be, had a certain 8 year-old not knocked my front door from its hinges." Tessa said, studying the sudden wide-eyed expression on Makino's face with an intense look of her own. She leaned against the bar and set her palm over Makino's hand, gripping her fingers so tightly her knuckles went white. "What - happened?" She demanded in a stern, yet calm voice. 

Makino sighed again. Her mouth parted, ready to offer an explanation, but her words were cut off by the bustling of laughing pirates from the other dining hut. One of which, Yassap, was stumbling towards them with a nearly empty bottle pressed to his lips. Upon spotting the newly arrived older woman, his arms flung open in an inviting gesture and a wide, intoxicated grin stretched across his face. "Tessita! You're just in time!" he bellowed, positioning himself beside her. "Makino's new shipment just arrived. Come, drink with us!" He extended the bottle to her in offering.

Tessa's gaze flickered with a mix of gratitude and annoyance, while trying to hide the latter. "Thank you, Yassap. But I'd actually like to have a word with your captain. Where is he?" Her eyes darted past Yassap's shoulder, scanning the area for any sign of the man in question.

The pirate snatched another bottle from the nearby crate, popping the cork to savor its aroma before swiftly grabbing another and tucking it under his arm. "He and Benn took the cargo to the trader's," he explained, slightly more focused. "They should be returning shortly." His attention quickly shifted back to Makino, who was placing a second crate onto the counter. "You're a savior, my girl!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with inebriated gratitude. 

Makino nodded, her lips pressed in a thin, tense line. She made a conscious effort to steer clear of the intense look displayed on Tessa’s face. Yassap, however, continued to encroach upon Tessa's personal space, thrusting the uncorked bottle towards her. The intense odor of rum burned her nostrils.

"Join us for a drink! Before the captain makes his return," he urged once more. Tessa's annoyance etched itself deeper onto her face, yet Yassap remained blissfully unaware of her frustration. "There'll be nothing left when he does." He added, suddenly erupting in laughter as he found amusement in his own joke. Tessa was developing a headache of her own. 

Suddenly, Benn's voice pierced through the air from behind them. "Is that mutiny I hear, Cap'n?" he playfully inquired. Tessa's tension eased as she turned around to find the first mate and Shanks ascending the stairs into Party's, mischievous grins adorning their faces. The minute Tessa’s eyes met the Captain’s, her face flushed a deep burgundy and she whipped her head around to catch her bearings - now was not the time to let her heart disrupt the reason she’d come here.

"Mutiny? It's barely midday," Shanks interjected, embellishing a mixed expression of astonishment and annoyance as he stepped under the thatch roof. He sauntered up to Makino and asked her how they should handle Yassap's treachery, a playful wink accompanying his words. The question elicited the first genuine smile from her all morning. She slid an empty glass to him and disappeared around the corner with one of the crates of rum.

There was a heavy silence that followed. Tessa was sure the three men present could hear how hard her heart was pounding in her rib cage. After a moment, Yassap and Benn conversed quietly with each other at the end of the bar, essentially leaving her and the captain alone. Shanks, while pouring himself a drink, exhaled Tessa’s name and she felt the room start to spin around her. She took a quiet deep breath and regained herself, setting aside the unsolicited ache in her chest at hearing her name cross his lips. She swiftly pivoted on her heel to fully face him, her expression indifferent yet determined. “You carry enough tension in those shoulders to anchor a ship,” Shanks observed, but with enough certainty to avoid glancing up to gauge her reaction. "I hear you’re looking for me." She watched him throw back the small glass with hardly any effort and immediately pour another, and yet he still would not look at her, which intensely deepened her frustration. She scoffed, her knuckles clenched around the skirt of her dress.

"Have you completely lost your senses?" She asked finally, her words dripping with unbridled anger. "Indulging in the boy's fantasies is one thing, but allowing him to eat a Devil Fruit is completely irresponsible."

Shanks shook his head and chuckled. "You think I'd be so careless?" he asked. 

"Was it not you who brought the cursed thing here?"

"Aye -"

"Yet you stand there and deny accountability?"

At last, the pirate captain shifted his position to directly face her. The intensity in his dark eyes sent a powerful wave coursing through Tessa, leaving a tingling sensation in the back of her throat. He held her gaze for just a moment during the strained silence, his irises dancing back and forth between hers. She pressed her lips firmly together, her breath frozen in anticipation. Then Shanks sighed, his shoulders already drooping in defeat. He leaned toward the glass beside him and took another drink.

"The lad's stronger than we give him credit for," he stated in a calmer tone than she'd expected. "We shouldn't underestimate him."

Something in Tessa’s chest tightened. Braver than she'd ever been, she took an intimidating couple of steps toward Shanks as another surge of anger shook through her. Was he not taking this seriously? she thought.

He could feel the intensity of her rage radiating from the warmth of her closeness, her amber eyes brighter than they'd ever been. Even as he recognized the mistake in his words amidst the hazel universe ablaze within her glare, he couldn’t help but secretly admire the radiance in those eyes, despite the clear warning they illustrated. 

"He's just a boy!" Tessa shouted, disrupting the rhythm of Shanks' heartbeat, though his features remained stoic. “He may think the world of you, Captain, but you are not responsible for him!”

“I never claimed to be.” he said, simply. 

“And yet you consistently welcome him at your heel like some lost pup.” 

At that moment, Shanks could feel the overwhelming curiosity emanating from his nosy crewmates. From his peripherals he could see Yassap and Benn huddled at the end of the bar, sharing a bottle between them, while the rest of the crew inched closer from the neighboring dining hut, their chairs not so subtly scraping against the catwalk. He sighed again, already missing the sea. 

Tessa went on, deliberately closing the distance between herself and Shanks. He raised his hands in defense, retreating from her fury alongside the bar until the stools behind him pressed against the back of his legs and he almost stumbled backward. "You fill his head with nonsense and then vanish for months on the seas while he's getting into all sorts of trouble, pretending to be a pirate. Just to impress you when you return -"

Shanks couldn't help but feel a hint of fondness at Tessa's words, though he refrained from showing it, given the intensity of her grief. He couldn't quite grasp why she was so furious with him specifically, considering he hadn't actually given Luffy the Devil Fruit in the first place. However, he doubted that explaining this would make a difference at this point. He was content allowing her to vent at him. This was after all, the most entertained he'd been in months.

Shanks had rarely encountered Tessa outside of Party's, yet her presence commanded his attention almost as strongly as Luffy's insatiable need for it. Wherever she went his curious eyes followed, as discreetly as he could manage anyway. Despite this, he never sought her out directly. Their interactions had been limited to a few polite exchanges, always tinged with a lingering trace of the bitterness she had displayed during their initial meeting. She'd made her bias known and with as much confidence as when she’d lectured his first mate, which he had to admit was in his list of top ten favourite moments in all of history. She was a fire, that woman. And he admired her resolve. 

From what little he could get out of Makino throughout the months, he could at least discern that Tessa was a great friend to have - provided you were on her good side. Shanks would see the two women at Party’s, always huddled in some corner or another laughing together but quietly enough to never be heard over the raucous noise of pirates. And Tessa would conceal her smile behind a bar rag as if keeping her joy a secret from everyone. Him, especially. When the lull of the sea crashing against the hull of his ship would finally begin to ease him into a deeply intoxicated sleep, he would sometimes dream of what her laugh sounded like. 

"You claim no responsibility-" Tessa's voice snapped Shanks from his thoughts," but Luffy's actions these last several months have been solely due to your influence," she said, a slight tremble at the ends of her words. 

Shanks looked past Tessa and met eyes with a worried Makino, who approached tentatively from the catwalk, leaning into Yassap to most likely ask what was happening. "It's the Captain's turn for a lecture, miss," Yassap remarked with a not-so-subtle chuckle. Makino attempted to approach Tessa, but Benn held his arm in front of her and advised they wait to see the outcome. Shanks made a mental note to have a word with them both later. 

"Whether or not you deliberately gave him that Devil Fruit, him eating it is a result of your carelessness," Tessa went on. "There are dangers here other than sea kings, Captain. Dangers that don't just disappear when you do."

"Yeah, we met those 'dangers' this morning." Yassap spoke up from behind Tessa, him and Benn chuckling into their cups. "Didn't we, Captain?" The sharpshooter didn't notice the red hot glare Shanks gave him in response. 

Tessa spun on her heel, her sharpened, slivered eyes suddenly wide in what Makino immediately recognized as fear. "You what?"

Yassap reiterated what he'd said, goading Shanks for his performance with the mountain bandits as if he himself hadn't simply sat there laughing with the rest of the crew while their captain mopped a mess of glass and whiskey from the bar floor.

"Higuma and his men?" Tessa asked Makino directly, the anger in her eyes now overshadowed by worry. 

Makino slowly nodded. And with a sharpness in her tone she said, "Shanks made sure they didn't do any harm." She'd meant to reassure Tessa that she needn't worry, but it was no use. The very thought of that scum being anywhere close to Tessa's friends without her being there to protect them made her stomach churn into knots. How could she have left them to be defended by a pirate? And then Tessa remembered the stitches on Luffy's face and her mind went white with rage. 

Quicker than any of them could register, Tessa's shaking hand disappeared into the folds of her skirt and reappeared clenching a large black pistol which she directly extended back toward Shanks. The second they heard the click of the gun loading, every pirate in Party's jumped to their feet and drew their weapons.

Part 4

[cyclesprefectpress]

[video description: process recording of letterpress printing a set of patterned tiles in a clamshell-action press, in a range of colors pulled from many pride flags. In the clamshell press, the machine opens on a hinge, with the relief printing material on one half the the paper held in place on the other half. Every time the press opens a printed sheet is removed and a fresh one is placed into the registration pins by hand; when it closes, the relief material contacts the paper and presses the ink into the surface. end description.]

happy priiiiide 🎉🎉

now i won't be able to show very much of this ahead of time not because it is a secret but because i will be continuing to assemble it until the very last second BUT i promise it will be neat & cool! also large. for me. i don't make big stuff but they gave me a whole wall and i said ok guess i'll figure it out!! if you're in on about or around Seattle I'll be installing it in the Centilia cultural center during this saturday's Beacon Hill street fair, 10-4! also there is food & music & art vendors & a garden share 🌱

[grogusmum]

JUNE: Litha

A Javi and the Beekeeper Summer Solstice Story

JAVI GUTIÉRREZ X GN!READER

W/C: 1465ish

WARNINGS: mentions of consuming food and wine As always, if you see something, say something. Please let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Here is the June installment of The Wheel of the Year, my theme for @yearofcreation2023 Organized by the effervescent @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms

Javi and The Beekeeper

Wheel of the Year Masterlist

The smell of beeswax and pine paneling warmed by the summer sun, fills the small building. A slowly whirling ceiling fan does its best, but the small cauldron of melted wax has you running a bandana up the back of your neck, and reaching for your water bottle.

The hinged windows are open wide, catching the gentle sea breeze, and that same breeze catches windchimes hanging from the porch, just as the bell on the shop door tinkles They blend together merrily, making you miss a possible customer coming into the small storefront- it's not so much a storefront as it is a glorified farmstand- but you don't miss the creak of the old wood floors.

"Hello," you call, "I'll be right out!"

But the footfalls continue, then ducking his head, Javi enters your workshop, filling the space with his sunshine.

"My bee charmer," he has some wildflowers from the meadow across the way in hand.

"Javi!" You come around your work table wrapping him in a hug, he is not supposed to be home until the weekend. Being mindful of your waxy hands your hug is just arms and chest, with your chin in the crook of his neck.

"Sorry 'bout my hands."

"You should be," Javi says, affronted, then whispers, eyebrows quirking, "they are not on me."

When you pull away to look at him, he snorts a laugh-

"Pfft, like a line in a movie- a pretty cheesy one!"

"I like cheese." You say softly looking at him through your lashes.

"Oh you are always so much better at this," Javi’s wide hand comes up and cradles the back of your head, bringing his soft lips to yours, his tongue impatiently looking for entry. You grant it. He hums, deepening the kiss until you both need to come up for air.

"You're better than you think," your smile presses against his cheek as you catch your breath.

Javi holds you another heartbeat, two, three… then looks around, pairs of candles sharing the same cotton wick hang from rows of dowels on simple stands.

"Candle making day?"

"Yup, all week. But tonight is special!"

"What is tonight?" Javi frowns slightly, worry in his sweet eyes, "while I was supposed to be away?"

"I can't move Litha to another day, silly."

Javi looks at you nonplussed.

"The summer solstice, love."

"Oh," his brows go up with a smile, "It's part of the reason I'm back early, to be here for the party for the crew," here, his face falls. "Were you not coming?"

"When I thought you wouldn't be there, no, I wasn't going to come this year… but not because of my candle making, usually I do both. I can do both."

"Can I do both?" Javi wraps his arms around you again, "can I help with your special candles?"

You hum in the affirmative, kissing him as you do.

Javi wears sun colors to the summer celebration, one of the many ways the Gutiérrez family thanks their crew for the work they do. There are strings of pennant flags with suns on them, live music, and long tables, piled high with food and festooned with gazanias, looking like little suns themselves.

You needed to finish up some work and Javi had to oversee the party preparation- so you arrive later with Lola and Juan, wearing pale yellow with a necklace with a sun pendant.

Javi beams when he sees you, he is blinding, you think.

"How is he mine?" You ask no one in particular.

Together Lola and Juan answer:

"Don't question it."

"You're a good match!"

You look at both of them and laugh openly.

After enjoying the second half of the longest day, dancing, eating and drinking more sangria than you planned, you look over the rolling hills, bee boxes dotting them, and in the hollows fireflies begin to blink languidly.

It's time to go.

Back at your workshop, you turn on some string lights. The little globes run from the porch to a large holm oak. You love this tree - also known as the holly oak, as it has pointed evergreen leaves, though the edges go smooth over time It reminds you of the duality and oneness of the oak and holly kings. Their battle for dominance through the seasons- though in the end they are one and the same, the two sides to an ancient coin.

Your cauldron awaits by the fire pit, while your tools and ingredients are laid out on a scrubbed pine table.

In the months you've been together, Javi has joined you in your celebrations and rituals. Just like with the bees, he is eager and observant. So he knows your habit of walking clockwise around the fire circle and stopping in the south to light it. He does so, you watch his attentiveness to the things that are important to you, and your eyes glass momentarily.

"I love you, you know."

In the catching firelight and string lights it's impossible to see the blush dust his cheeks and the tips of his ears. But his sweet crooked smile and eyes drifting to the side let's you know.

"Well, I know, you know, I love you, because how could you not know, you know?" He is in a silly mood, which is one of your favorites.

"You would never let me forget, sweet man."

You wrap your arms around his middle, kissing his freckled neck.

Javi looks down at you, and brings your chin up so he can kiss your mouth. Soft and languid.

When he has kissed you thoroughly, Javi pulls back-

"Shall we call the quarters?"

Feeling a bit drunk, which seems to be less about the sangria and more to do with Javi, you nod with a smile.

"We should."

Javi moves back several paces staying to the south of the fire, while you move to the north of it.

You call on the spirits, the guardians, of the four directions. Beseeching them to bestow their blessing and elemental attributes upon the ritual.

Your circle is cast.

Javi takes the cauldron and places it on the fire.

As the fire roars and you place the beeswax in to melt, you close your eyes and focus on the sun, it's radiance, warmth and power. Javi follows suit, closing his eyes, breathing deep the smell of the wax, like summer itself.

Breathing in, breathing out, breathing in, breathing out…

You move to the table and press the power button on a small speaker, a celtic harp plays. And you take up the pestle and begin crushing the dried herbs and flowers you have laid out. Javi attaches several lengths of the cotton wick to one end of wooden dowels.

When all is prepared, you give one dowel to Javi and take one up yourself. Back in your places at the cauldron, you hold the wicks over the cauldron.

"The music sets the pace, when in the south we dip the wicks, then pull them out and walk clockwise around the cauldron. So you start and when I am in the south, you wait at the north. Make sense?"

Javi nods.

And so you went round and round in the direction of the sun, dipping your candles into the liquid wax. The walk round allowing it to solidify enough for the next dip. When they are good sturdy candles, you roll them in the mix of plants. Rose petals, oak leaves, calendula, holly leaves and berries, basil flowers, red clover, rosemary, flowers, bee balm, and of course gazanias and the red berried mistletoe that grows on olive trees. Either foraged or from your garden.

When you finish, you dismiss the spirits (if they wish) with thanks and close the circle. The candles are placed in the workshop to finish setting, and you spread out a blanket under that huge holm oak and lay out some wine, fruit, and cheese. It's late, but both your bodies hum with energy from the ritual. Music still plays, but you've switched it up to some uptempo Spanish guitar.

Javi pours the wine and you feed him some grapes with a laugh.

"Thank you."

"For what, mi amor?"

"For being loving to what I love," you say.

"You have watched every Nic Cage movie with me, you sit in that dark little theater when I know you'd rather be outside…"

"I love movies too."

"Yes, but… I know."

You sip your wine with a gleam in your eye, then lean in to kiss him. Quickly you are shuffling on your knees to get closer. "I need to finish charting every freckle, I have constellations still to name."

Javi smiles wide as he catches you round your middle-

"So you do."

💚THANK YOU FOR READING💚REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED💚

If you care to read more of my Javi stories or any of my writing you can find my masterlist here and if you would like to be tagged for any of my fics you can find my handy dandy taglist form here.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

The Department of Justice on Monday sued the state of Texas and Gov. Greg Abbott over the installation of a barrier of buoys in the Rio Grande River intended to keep migrants from crossing into the U.S.

The DOJ based its lawsuit on allegations that in building the buoy barrier, Texas violated the Rivers and Harbors Act by obstructing navigable waters of the U.S.

Texas officials began constructing the barrier near the Camino Real International Bridge in Eagle Pass earlier this month, finishing last week, according to the DOJ lawsuit.

Federal officials are asking a Judge to order that Texas remove the existing buoys at their own expense and also that they be enjoined from constructing any further barriers in other waters near the U.S.-Mexico border.

Abbott and the state of Texas allegedly did not seek authorization from the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers prior to installing the buoys, as required under law, and that because of that, "the Corps and other relevant federal agencies were deprived of the opportunity to evaluate risks the barrier poses to public safety and the environment, mitigate those risks as necessary through the permitting process, and otherwise evaluate whether the project is in the public interest," the DOJ lawsuit alleges.

The buoys are part of Operation Lone Star, Abbott's major border policy.

"This floating barrier poses threats to navigation and public safety and presents humanitarian concerns. Additionally, the presence of the floating barrier has prompted diplomatic protests by Mexico and risks damaging U.S. foreign policy," Associate Attorney General Vanita Gupta said in a statement on Monday.

A Judge from the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Texas had not yet been assigned to the case as of Monday afternoon.

It was not immediately clear how soon until Texas has to answer the allegations in court. Abbott's office did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

In a letter on Friday, the DOJ had warned the Governor that Texas' "actions violate federal law, raise humanitarian concerns, present serious risks to public safety and the environment, and may interfere with the federal government's ability to carry out its official duties."

On Monday, Abbott responded with a letter to President Joe Biden remaining defiant -- and indicating his state's defense will hinge on what he describes as Texas' "sovereign authority" to protect its borders.

"Texas will see you in court, Mr. President," Abbott wrote, hours before the DOJ announced its suit.

Abbott, a Republican, has long assailed what he calls the failure of the Biden administration's border and immigration policies. He's also been busing migrants out of Texas to Democratic-led states and cities -- a move that has stoked outcry from advocates.

On Friday, the Governor said in a statement that his administration, along with Texas' Department of Public Safety and the Texas National Guard, are "continuing to work together to secure the border; stop the smuggling of drugs, weapons, and people into Texas; and prevent, detect, and interdict transnational criminal behavior between ports of entry," citing statistics on hundreds of thousands of apprehensions and criminal arrests made under Operation Lone Star.

Responding to the DOJ lawsuit on Monday, White House spokesman Abdullah Hasan, said, in part: "Governor Abbott's dangerous and unlawful actions are undermining that effective plan, making it hard for the men and women of Border Patrol to do their jobs of securing the border, and putting migrants and border agents in danger."

[dawnrider]

For #WIP Wednesday I bring you a snippet of what I'm working on for @inuparentsday 2024! A modern AU with the lovely Izayoi discovering that the house she got for a steal in a great neighborhood was a steal for a reason...

Inspired by art by the delightful @heavenin--hell (Yes, that one.)

Snippet below the cut!

It was a good deal. In this housing market, one couldn’t turn their nose up at a great deal like this. So what if people said the furnace made odd noises. And the water heater growled when it was heating up. And the plumbing tended to clang and bump when the water went through it… Those were nothing when you took the price into account! She would have plenty to do the renovations she wanted to do. Fixing up the garden, painting the walls, eventually replacing the appliances… The neighborhood wasn’t even a “bad” one! Signing the paperwork, she had repeatedly felt like she was getting away with something very sneaky and that – at any point – someone was going to show up and tell her it was a mistake, that they had missed several zeros on the price and could she please come up with the remaining amount. Yet here she was, standing in front of her new front door to her new house in her new neighborhood in a new city. She let out a sigh of happiness as the lock turned with the key and the old door swung open with a creak. “Nothing a little WD-40 can’t fix,” she chirped. As she went through the house to look at it more closely, she started a mental checklist of the things that “just needed a coat of paint” or “a new set of hinges” and “maybe a new sink…” Her cheeriness faded some, but seeing the view from the upstairs sitting room and the balcony beyond it made it all worth it. Perched on one of the elevated neighborhoods that overlooked the main part of the city, she could see the ocean just beyond that. The sun set just beyond the horizon with the water often sparkling in the foreground. It was amazing. It was by far the most beautiful place she had ever lived in her entire life. One of the first things Izayoi did was set up her office in the sitting room. If she was going to continue to afford the mortgage on this house, no matter how small the payments were in comparison with her old house, she would need to make sure she could work. Part of that meant getting someone out to install her internet. Apparently there had never been anything all this time and there would need to be a fresh installation. Izayoi had that in her budget, but finding someone to actually do the work was proving a much greater challenge than she would have expected. “Yes, that’s the address,” she repeated. The operator hung up on her. “That was rude,” she muttered, staring at the receiver in her hand. She dialed the next number and was met with much the same treatment. Six more calls and she was running out of numbers in the yellow pages. Finally, someone at least told her why no one would listen past the address. “Lady, I don’t care if you’re willing to pay extra. That place is haunted and I’m not sending any of my guys in there.” “Wait… Seriously?” “Yea. No one here is gonna take that job. That’s why it’s never had a hookup. The only reason you got phone service is because the lines are on poles for that and it comes in through the roof.” “Please! If the phone lines are in that way, can’t you…” “No. Cable’s gotta go in through the ground and into the basement. City ordinance. So you either deal with dialup, or you get satellite.”

[borrowedtimeandspace]

Say You Love Me Too

AU: The Donna Trilogy | If I Could Turn Back Time

Note: This one kept getting longer on me, but I wanted to make sure I did these two justice. Here's hoping I have.

~~~

“Thirty days.”

Orrick’s words cut through the dusty air inside the walls of the cottage. 

He and Zepheera hardly said a thing to one another since their talk over tea that afternoon. Nothing quite as meaningful, anyway. Her sudden return put a damper on his big plan to leave it all behind, and he hadn't accounted for dinner. Reckoned he'd borrow something nonperishable on his way out, just enough to sustain him on the journey between human houses. He'd steadily (albeit slowly) eaten through everything in their stores so that pests wouldn't find it and gather, ever since he decided what he would do if Zepheera didn't come back.

Now she had come back, and he didn't have anything in.

She was quick to offer to come with him on the borrowing trip, a standard food raid that he could easily do on his own. Still, with her penchant for vanishing, there was no way Orrick was leaving Zepheera out of his sight. So he agreed, and they silently traversed the darkened pathways under the floorboards and within the walls, all the way up to the humans’ pantry.

Despite their time apart, they fell into the rhythm of borrowing together right away. One kept watch while the other worked on subtly gathering food in a way that wouldn't be easily noticed, and they traded off these roles silently and smoothly. It was easy work for seasoned professionals, especially with most of the giant folk out of the house at that hour.

It was still odd for them both, how natural it all felt. Like nothing had changed, even though that couldn't be farther from the truth.

Orrick meant to emphasize that as he tossed the two words over his shoulder on their way back from a successful run.

Zepheera was quiet for the first few seconds afterward. “What?” she asked, though he noticed in her tone that she didn't sound like she'd misheard.

“How long you've been gone,” Orrick confirmed. He sent her a quick backward glance, though he was only able to make out her general shape in the darkness. “You asked, and it's only right I answer your question since you answered mine. It's been a month.”

His gaze lingered on her silhouette when he heard the slightest stutter in her steps, but she kept pace. He turned back to face the front once he felt assured that they weren't going to be separated again, and continued leading the way home.

It didn't sound like much, saying it aloud. One month. Some of Orrick’s most detailed sketches took him a few weeks to feel satisfied with the results. Zepheera’d knitted jumpers in that amount of time as well. Neither of those tasks had ultimately felt like they'd taken an incredibly long time in the past.

When it came to waiting to see if your spouse would return home, unsure of why they left or if they were even alive… Then, a month felt like an eternity.

Zepheera seemed to understand that, because she fell completely silent. It wasn't until well after they'd climbed down below the floorboards that she managed to whisper, “I'm sorry…”

“You've said that,” Orrick pointed out as they reached the main entrance to the home. 

The door was a lid they'd repurposed from an old tin. The hinges were intact to use like a proper door, swinging inward with a firm push and unable to do so in the other direction. To keep pests and strangers out, they'd installed a couple of small hooks to either side of it on the inside, onto which they could drop a sturdy bar (usually a pencil) that would hold the door in place.

Orrick let the door swing inward and once again glanced back at Zepheera. In this space under the floor, a little more light was able to slip between the cracks. Now the shadows couldn't hide the flush of contained emotion in her cheekbones, the way she could barely maintain eye contact with Orrick for more than a second before her gaze lowered in shame. 

The way that, though he wasn't barring the way inside, she simply stood behind Orrick. Almost waiting to be invited into the home they'd built together.

“You still haven't explained why you needed that answer. Why, of all things, that was the mystery to you.” Orrick's tone stayed even and calm, not wanting to come off as accusatory. She hadn't gone into any detail, but he knew that something had happened to Zepheera since he'd seen her last. Something that changed her.

Zepheera took a deep breath in and out, though Orrick noticed the slightest hitch, like a second small inhale before she let it slowly out. As she did so, her gaze met his and stayed this time.

“I told you, it's a long story,” she said, though to Orrick it didn't sound like an excuse. Zepheera wasn't dodging his question. No, she was simply warning him that the answer to it was far from simple.

Orrick slowly nodded in understanding. Then, with just as much care, he reached out a hand toward Zepheera, who blinked at it before looking back up at him.

“Tell it, then,” he invited.

In the dimness, Orrick thought he caught the briefest glimpse of a smile flashing across Zepheera's lips before she lifted a trembling hand to take his.

Learning that Zepheera couldn't age, while unexpected, wasn't too difficult for Orrick to accept. She had always been an unusual one, able to recover from injuries incredibly quickly compared to the average borrower. She took that in stride, and so did Orrick.

They crossed the threshold together.

~~~

When it came to time travel, however…

It wasn't the easiest topic to simplify for a borrower, let alone one who had lived his entire life in the 20th century. Space travel was only just becoming a more prominent reality for humans, and even that felt very far away and foreign to the smaller folk, who had no such ambitions. And apparently, Zepheera had taken part in that as well!

Zepheera hardly claimed to be an expert on the matter, but she explained it to the best of her understanding. Though she had clearly prepared something that would be easiest for him to swallow, it was an intense shift in Orrick's worldview.

He was still processing it all hours later, lying in bed and staring up at the underside of the floorboards that were their ceiling. Thoughts swirled in his head in so many circles that his eyes traced them as though they were visible in the darkness of night.

At the time, he understood just enough of what she told him to be able to nod along with it. Now, hours later, all attempts to let it actually sink in kept him awake.

What struck him the most in the moment was that Zepheera had traveled with humans.

It wasn't that it was more strange than the time travel, really, but it was one of the cardinal rules drilled into every borrower's head from the moment they were born. Never be seen or heard. Human beings were powerful simply by the nature of their being, well over a dozen times the size of a borrower more often than not. Even the weakest human could do the strongest borrower great harm with hardly any effort.

Whether a given human would treat the smaller folk that way was beside the point. They all had to be considered capable of such things by every borrower as a matter of caution.

Zepheera insisted that these humans were of a good sort. Well, one of them was actually not human, but was “close enough to practically count,” which was another notion Orrick was still grappling with. The Doctor, the non-human one was called. He'd saved Zepheera from a bad situation, and that was all she could say on the matter.

She went distressingly quiet when Orrick tried to ask about it.

Most of the time spent between making and eating dinner was filled with Zepheera’s stories about this Doctor and the human woman Donna Noble. How the unnamed terrible thing that happened affected her intensely, and her companions helped her recover from it. How they inspired Zepheera to take on a more active role in bettering the lives of others where- and whenever they went. 

Orrick could tell they had been close, and the way Zepheera talked made it seem like this was a rarity for her. And he could see glimpses of the heartbreak in her eyes as she told him about how she was separated from them.

With a deep sigh, Orrick brought up both hands to rub at his eyes. He was making himself dizzy trying to understand time as something non-linear, but it was so intertwined with everything Zepheera had told him about her life.

The Doctor had a machine, she said, a vehicle of some sort that allowed them to go wherever they wanted at any time. She'd described it as something quite fantastical, far bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. It could disappear from one time and place, and reappear in another. 

And even with all its magics, it still rendered the Doctor helpless to find Zepheera when she was lost. This was apparently due to the nature of said separation, her being somehow flung through time to the past, well before Zepheera's own birth.

“Wait, so…” Orrick had piped up at that point. “If you were in the past, and knew about things that hadn't happened yet…why didn't you try to change them?”

Zepheera had blinked at the question, one of Orrick’s few interruptions to her story. He wasn't casting judgment on her, and the sadness that crept back in behind her eyes told him she understood exactly what he meant.

“It's…quite complicated, being in the past. Especially your own past. Time can be rewritten, yes, but the effects of that are impossible to predict.” At that, her gaze lowered to her wringing hands. “And everything that happened to me… everything I've done… It made me the person I am today. Made me better. If I tried to change even one line of my own history, then the me I am now wouldn't exist anymore. Or worse. I couldn't risk that.”

Zepheera glanced back at him then. “Do you understand?” she’d ventured to ask.

Orrick had listened to every word, but that was the point where it all started to scramble in his head. Just like he would do later in bed remembering the feeling, he buried his face in his hands. “I regret asking…”

Back in the present, the sound of quickened breathing to Orrick’s left caught his attention. He let his hands run down his face as he turned to look at Zepheera's deeply sleeping form beside him.

There really was no place for her to sleep other than the bed they used to share. She tried to insist she had something in her travel pack that she could set up, but Orrick couldn't let her just sleep on the floor. Even after everything…it didn't feel right.

It wasn't like it was before. Orrick lay flat as a board on his side, while Zepheera had started out curled with her back to him on the other. A solid inch of their makeshift mattress was left cold between them, a significant distance when the tallest between them couldn't quite claim five inches in height. Though Orrick had been too overcome with his thoughts to move, Zepheera had long since fallen asleep and began stirring more than he ever remembered her doing in the past.

He gently rolled to his side to face her. She'd writhed enough to end up lying on her back. It was dim, but not dark enough to hide the sweat on her twisted brow. The grimace on her lips as she sucked in air between clenched teeth. How one hand clutched the covers and the one nearest Orrick, tossed up near her ear, twitched as though grasping at something that wasn't there.

Before he could think twice about it, Orrick slid a hand up to gently wrap around Zepheera's and give it a squeeze. 

He understood then just how much pain Zepheera had kept to herself. From what he could tell, she had been truthful with everything she'd shared, and yet she'd glossed over the darker aspects before they could sink in. Now, it seemed like she couldn't hide it as easily in her sleep. Or hide from it.

Zepheera's hand automatically clung to Orrick’s. He froze, caught up in the feeling of her grip twitching in his; a feeling that gradually calmed down. After some time, he noticed a change in the rhythm of Zepheera's breathing and saw her shadowy shape turn his way.

She was awake. He couldn't explain how he knew that, but he did.

If she looked at him, he was only vaguely aware of it in his peripheral vision. He stared at their joined hands as his thumb gently traced along her palm, as though the new questions he had would be answered there.

“How long have you been gone?”

Zepheera stayed quiet a moment, recognizing the repeated phrasing. Now Orrick understood exactly why she'd asked, and that her own answer was not straightforward and very different from the one he gave. He waited while she momentarily pondered the answer.

“I think…” she whispered, “between when I left and when I met the Doctor, and then how long ago I was sent back in time… almost two hundred years.”

Orrick’s gaze snapped up to meet hers, something in him clenching to hear such a number.

“And…in all that time, did you…” Orrick hesitated; it suddenly felt quite silly to ask, but he'd already started. “Was there ever anyone else?”

Either the darkness was playing tricks on him, or Orrick caught the tiniest sparkle of hope in Zepheera's eyes. It was gone in a flash, and she slowly shook her head no.

Orrick scoffed at himself for forgetting. “Right. ‘Course, it wouldn't change anything, would it? You'd still be worried about outliving them and–”

“Nobody was you,” Zepheera emphasized.

His breath caught in his chest, along with any more words. 

Outside of his control, the hand holding Zepheera's pulled it closer. It stopped a hair's breadth from his lips, and with the slightest pause, he angled his wrist to instead place the back of her hand against his cheek.

Orrick's eyes squeezed shut as he basked in the warmth of her skin. So many times since her return, he'd avoided such intimate contact with Zepheera. Like there was some wall between them after what happened, a line that he couldn't be sure was safe to cross. For his own sake or for hers. Over the past few hours, she'd chipped away at that wall with her honesty and openness about her completely mad life, and he could feel his resolve crumbling. 

There was only one thing Orrick needed to hear to make it real.

“Do you still love me?” he breathed.

Zepheera's grip went slack in his hand and twisted its way out of it. Before Orrick could fear the worst, he felt her hand gently slide in to hold his cheek. His eyes shot open just as her thumb tenderly brushed away his tears.

With her own eyes welling up, glinting in the barest light that made it into the room, Zepheera spoke with more conviction than he'd heard yet. 

“I never stopped.”

Orrick kissed her. The barrier shattered.

His wife was home.

[writingutensilthief]

In a Mood

Summary: Dr. Dred decides to check in on one of his rivals in an attempt to feel superior to someone. Or, Eve L. Scientist's evening is about to get even more irritating. An OC-focused Drak Pack one-shot. Word count: 1,696

The battered Dredgible returned to Drednought Island after another failed outing. At landing its door fell off the hinges, saving Dr. Dred the hassle of kicking it down himself.

"Have the Dredgible fixed before I get back," Dr. Dred snapped to his underlings, "Or you'll-. I'll-. Forget it!". He waved them off and then stormed inside.

He went straight into the monitor room and up to the giant screen, jabbing a finger towards his reflection. "Dr. Dred is not a failure!" he declared. "My inventions are the vilest things in the field of villainy! My intellectual inferiors beg to be as successful as me! I could look at any of them right now and see their failures firsthand-!"

He paused for a second and then smirked.

Dr. Dred turned on the monitor and accessed the internal video system he had installed in it. Skipping over his usual cameras in Pack Headquarters and Count Dracula's tomb, he started flipping through the ones he had placed where rival scientists and inventors resided. Certainly, he reasoned to himself, someone was currently failing in their plans and could give him a much-needed laugh.

Eve L. Scientist was indeed having a rough evening.

She stood in her greenhouse lab, a scowl on her face and a pounding in her head. She had planned for a simple test - to see if an altered ray gun could send her controlling pollen a farther distance than her own touch could - and had planned for it well. She had picked an older ray gun model so her daughter would have prior experience with it. She had set up the machine in the middle of the lab so it could reach as many plants as possible. And as she knew would happen, the neighbor girl had shown up that afternoon and made herself a target for it.

She had not accounted for the ray gun backfiring the moment the trigger was pulled, sending her daughter and the neighbor girl stumbling backwards and scattering the pollen everywhere.

Eve held up her hand, signaling her desire to skip straight to the results section of the experiment. She tried not to let the crashing noises her hyper-pollenated helper vines were making annoy her further.

One of the helper vines was finally able to find the tape recorder and dropped it into Eve's hand.

She immediately started the tape. "This is Eve L. Scientist. It is approximately six forty-five in the evening of the fourteenth of January, nineteen-"

Loud blaring noises from her computer, followed by smacks from the helper vines trying to turn the machine off, interrupted her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and dismissed it as her plants still acting up.

"Today's test resulted in an unexpectedly quick failure," she continued, "as the altered ray gun exploded the moment the trigger was pulled. It would be both unnecessary and unwise to continue putting resources towards this ray gun design, so I have decided to declare it a failure and use a different design going forward. I will need to investigate further to see if it was pure mechanical mistakes or if user error was also involved."

Eve took a second to sigh and shake her head, trying to regain some composure. She then straightened herself back out. "In terms of positive results, the controlling pollen was successful in enhancing the plants capabilities, but perhaps to a level that would be difficult to maintain. My helper vines are working to assist me with limited prompting. Further-."

Her eyes scanned over the rest of the chaos in front of her, landing on her daughter first. "The defensive plants went to work without any input from me-"

Maddie appreciated the aloe plants that came to cushion her fall and attend to the scrapes she got from the explosion, but the ones that attached to her skeletal leg and fingers made her shake and fuss in frustration.

"And the offensive ones have done the same," Eve continued, her eyes now on the neighbor girl.

Rita dodged one of the pouncing ivies and lead the rest into the room's water feature, then patiently waited for the plants to float back to the top waterlogged.

"Unfortunately, the increased amount of pollen has not seemed to increase the intelligence the plants display."

"A lack of intelligence is be expected, Evie!" a voice rang out from behind her, followed by an obnoxious cackle. "They're your plants!"

Eve shut off her tape recorder and whirled around to see who interrupted her.

Dr. Dred's face filed the screen, laughing at her. "Nothing like watching someone completely and utterly fail to improve your mood."

He pulled back from the screen to reveal that he had pulled up a chair to watch the chaos unfold, his mood improved so much that he decided to lean back in it and prop up his feet for an extra level of disrespect. "I must say, the suffering children is a nice touch."

Rita had gone back to help the still-struggling Maddie get the excess aloe plants off her, but a new wave of ivy sent her back to the water.

Eve put the tape recorder in her pocket, thought to herself how this situation was having the opposite effect on her mood, and then finally responded to his initial comments.

"My plants have greater intelligence than the creatures you associate with. And that's Eve to you, Mister Dred."

"That's Doctor Dred to you!"

"I do not acknowledge fake doctorates."

"The fool that paid for hers wouldn't."

Eve already felt the conversation exhausting her. "For what do I owe the displeasure, Dred?" she sighed.

"Oh, is your hearing failing too?" Dr. Dred's smugness grew. "I'm here to see your frustration firsthand! To delight in your defeat! To bask the in glory of being superior to someone-!"

"A rare experience for you I am sure," Eve interrupted, "and certainly not one that is occurring right now."

"Is it not?" Dr. Dred put his feet down and lead forwarded again, hoping that his grin was getting under her skin. "I see those little leaves of yours can't even turn off this screen."

A portion of the helper vines were indeed still fruitlessly smacking the computer, but the rest had returned to their resting positions awaiting instruction.

If Eve was paying proper attention, she would have stopped the conversation to record that the hyper-pollination was starting to wear off. But Dr. Dred and his self-satisfied grin was getting to her.

"They are trying to hide your hideous face."

"Flattery won't cover up your pathetic performance here," Dr. Dred mocked. "Why, you can't even make a ray gun work!" He then placed a hand on his cheek to feign sympathy. "You should have known a model like that would be futile to use. It's almost sad that you didn't."

"What is sad is that you do not understand the importance of experimentation," Eve snapped back. "A researcher with any level dignity would follow scientific protocols. But I suppose you do not have any of that, do you?"

Dr. Dred again leaned back in his chair. "Again with the flattery, Eve. I appreciate you trying to maintain my good mood."

Eve opened her mouth to retort, but then her self-awareness - and the pounding in her head - returned with a vengeance. She decided to take a breath to steady herself instead. This kind of banter was why she rarely conversed with her fellow villainous inventors.

But Dr. Dred lived for it. "Is there something you wanted to say?" he prodded. "Did you have retort that would get me to leave you alone to suffer your defeat in silence?"

Eve held her head for a minute to think, ignoring the snickering coming from Dr. Dred. She then looked directly at the monitor. "No. I just wanted to share a theory with you."

"To explain your failures?"

"To explain yours." Eve leaned forward and pointed a finger at the screen. "I theorize that the reason you do not adhere to scientific protocol is because you are too stupid and impulsive to do so. These impulses are why your inventions consistently get destroyed by a pack of children, and I hazard a guess that exact situation happened to put you in a bad mood enough to interrupt me."

Her comment earned Eve a glower from Dr. Dred, which she chose to take as her winning the bickering match. "You can ponder that as you get off my monitor."

She looked down to find the switch to turn off the computer, only to notice that her helper vines had finally dispersed. She turned to see if they went back to their resting positions, only to instead see her daughter and the neighbor girl watching her. She quickly deduced they had been waiting on her acknowledgment but was too embarrassed by them seeing her engaging in a petty squabble with her intellectual inferior to respond right away.

Ignoring the strange man on the screen that Ms. Scientist had been arguing with, Rita turned to Maddie. "Will I see you at school tomorrow?"

"No," Eve answered for her, trying to sound unfazed. "She will be home tomorrow working on new ray gun designs. And she will be spending the rest of this evening cleaning up the lab."

"Yes ma'am," Rita nodded politely. She took that as a cue she would be allowed to leave, but before going gave a sympathetic glance to Maddie. "I'll see you after school tomorrow, Maddie."

Maddie had also decided it was time to make her exit and went back towards the lab to begin her chores.

As the girls left Dr. Dred got the literal last laugh and finally disconnected from the computer, giving Eve the promised alone time.

Eve stood in silence for another minute, parsing through everything that had happened and letting her bruised ego simmer. Her mind eventually landed back onto the experiment, the failure that had started the evening off, getting her to fish the tape recorder back out of her pocket. She needed to finish her report.

"This is Eve L. Scientist. It is approximately seven fifteen in the evening-"

[wizard-archivist-official]

What’s your favourite piece of forgotten lore?

We raised this question in our biweekly Head Archivists' Meeting to make sure the whole team got to have their input. Once the fires had died down and the various demons had been banished back to their planes of origin, we decided that rather than trying to settle on a single piece we would produce a shortlist based on the most popular answers across the team. The original list of 37 items was then cut down to a "top 3" with the highest degree of consensus between the archivists, and then extended to a "top 4" when Ainsworth threatened to release a Greater Hypercurse of Enpigening in the lobby if his favourite wasn't included.

So, without further ado,

Our sort-of top 34 consensus list of some of our favourite pieces of forgotten lore

Iacobus Stultus (James the Fool)'s Four Prime model of alchemy. Proposed some time after 1613 in the (possibly pseudographical) De Arte Divina Transmutationis et Anates, Iacobus argues against previous Paracelcian tripartite Salt-Sulfur-Mercury theories, as well as later bipartite Sulfur-Mercury and Mercury-alone models, of prime materials in favour of a quadripartite model consisting of salt, sulfur, mercury and ducks as the four fundamental elements of reality. Iacobus's argument hinges on the claim that ducks are such essentially peculiar and transcendental beings that it is inconceivable that they may be constituted of more discrete parts, and must instead be understood as foundational elements and principles of reality. This theory was widely panned by other alchemists on the grounds that ducks are clearly composed of constituent parts and can be subdivided, although a number of later texts attributed to Iacobus continued to defend the salt-sulfur-mercury-ducks theory with a gradually increasing role for elemental ducks in the theory, with the last text, De Divinis Anatibus, going so far as to defend a duck-only theory of prime materials.

The Second Banned Spell. Now, all wizards know the story of the first banned spell, so we won't bore you by repeating it. What is often left out of these stories, however, is that, at the time, the wizard council only created the requisite ordinances and regulations to ban exactly that spell, and did not provide any appropriate institutions for the generalised banning of spells that would follow. In fact, there was significant pushback against the banning of that first spell for fear that this would lead to the council exerting tyrannical control over the wizarding community, and so various clauses and provisions were put in place to prevent the council banning any other spells. So what changed? Throughout the 16th century, wizarding bosses had sought for ways of increasing the effeciency of their apprentices and workers. In 1536, Alfonso of Piccolamerda developed the Lesser Wage Theft spell which, alongside Efficacious Torture and Shatter Will, was widely used by wizarding bosses to force workers to produce more in ever harsher conditions. The result of these harsh and exploitative conditions was the great Apprentice Revolt of 1593, which led to the passing of the Rights of the Apprentice Act 1595 (an early predecessor to the 1707 Wizard Apprentices' Right to Live [WARL] Act) and the addition of Lesser Wage Theft to the list of bannded spells.

Why installers are called "wizards". When computers were first developed, there was some difficulty in developing hardware and software solutions to replacing information within a storage system with other information, or transfering information between storage systems. The original solution for this problem was to shrink a wizard down small enough that they could stand on the computer chip with a little screen that told them when a new file had been called for. When required, the wizard would then summon that file from its original source and use a magical transmutation ritual to imbue it directly into its new storage device. While this was a very quick method of data transfer, it was also expensive, and so it was eventually phased out in favour of the software installers that you know today, although they were referred to as "wizards" for a long time to recall the original information transfer system. Interestingly, the last computer to still use the wizard-based data transfer system was Horatio of Slough's WizBook 7, released in 2011, was discontinued in 2012 following the council establishing the Use of Wizards and Other Sapient Magical Beings in Technological Devices Act.

The invention of blue. Now, you may be familiar with Homer's "wine-dark sea", which some people use to argue that the Ancient Greeks couldn't see blue, and others say is just a metaphor because the idea that the Ancient Greeks couldn't see blue is obviously stupid. As it turns out, neither of these answers is correct - Ancient Greek eye-sight was just as good as anyone's today, but the colour blue hadn't been invented yet. Back then, the visual colour spectrum just went straight from teal to purple. The colour blue was added by the revered Archwizard Wolfgang Sauerkraut, as part of his performance in the 32nd Annual Wizarding Polylympics. While historically notable, the invention of the colour blue and expansion of the visible light spectrum was largely overshadowed for viewers by the second half of the archwizard's act, in which he summoned a seamonster from the plane of water and attempted to have sexual intercourse with it, and as a result, Archwizard Sauerkraut was remembered not for his light-bending creation but as "Archwizard Serpentshagger".

[wickedsrest-rp]

The metallic wail heard round the world—or at least, heard over the township of Wicked’s Rest. The skyquake, the first of its kind in this part of Maine, brings the entire town to a stop. Cleanup efforts from the mineral ooze catastrophe are finally concluded, and the next strange occurrence is hot on its heels. It seems that this place will never truly know peace. 

The sound, like the rusted hinges of a heavenly gate the size of Mount Everest being opened, lasts for about five seconds, then fades, then spins up again for another round of deafening, unexplained phenomena. It continues for about half an hour, and seems to happen once every day or two. There have been many theories offered by the local media, some of them more earthly-bound and others pointing blame at the Null Impact Crater and Zilch, the cryptid believed to reside there… but no one can be certain. Is Zilch phoning home? Are we about to be invaded by a superior alien race? That’s certainly what some Resters think, including but not limited to the Good Neighbors. New homemade signs are appearing all over town every night, warning people to stay away from the impact crater and the Flat, claiming that both are clearly dangerous and a part of something larger going on. And, well… they certainly aren’t wrong about the danger. 

A very well known and well loved Rester, Jedidiah Hodge Sr., is missing. The local man is owner and operator of Red’s Eats, a long-standing shack restaurant that has been serving ‘Maine’s #1 lobster roll’ for over fifty years. His employees and family are confused and upset by his sudden disappearance, claiming that he started acting strangely just before vanishing. They have no idea where he might have gone, as he “has always been dedicated to this restaurant and to serving the people of Wicked’s Rest the best damn lobster they’ve ever had.” Authorities are looking into it. 

There has also been speculation from several sources of questionable repute that one Blake Sheffield, a member of the local board of selectmen and organizer of monthly town hall meetings, is pushing for the resources spent on these missing person’s cases to be allocated elsewhere, claiming that we “can’t keep wasting time on these people that want to just wander off into the woods. We all know how dangerous the woods are.” This pivot away from ‘helping thy neighbor’ seems in stark contrast to the fact that it was Blake herself who organized the temporary shelters for Resters displaced by the ooze. By all accounts, she seems to have undergone a full personality shift. And she’s not the only one.

It wouldn’t be Wicked’s Rest if some enterprising people and groups weren’t quick to market the skyquakes. Should you go see the sky splitting open? Probably not. But the “photos of the skyquakes” are selling postcards like crazy (no, the skyquakes are not visible), and the township has erected several “listening stations” around town where the acoustics are best. 

A strange symbol is appearing on things across town, seemingly painted onto surfaces. It’s round with what looks like a mysterious face in the middle (if you squint?), and it’s most frequently being sighted around the Abnormality, though there have been reports of it in more far-flung parts of town, too. No one knows what it means. Speculation abounds. Is it some teenager’s graffiti tag? The mark of a new cryptid? Installation art? Those who have spent time around or in service of demons before will be filled with a supernatural dread when near these symbols.

A recent ghost tour went incredibly wrong, and the woman running it, Helene, turned out to be a ghost in the process of gaining strange abilities. While she’s been destroyed and answers to a lot of questions were destroyed with her, those on the tour won’t soon forget what they have seen. Survivors are few in number and those who didn’t make it are trapped in the crystalized goo we’re all familiar with. But this time, it is not so easily shattered. The town is trying to avoid bad PR by reminding everyone that the waivers signed before the tour did cover this.

The skyquakes have been confusing the local wildlife – some species and creatures are frightened and may be leaving town entirely, while others are scared to the point of uncharacteristic aggression. House pets and supernatural monsters alike may become threatening whenever the sky booms.

There’s been an influx of doomsday prepper types from the outskirts of town, taking up residence in the Common and other parks to try and convince passers-by that their reckoning event is the correct one. Because yes, of course there’s a few separate groups with ideas that challenge one another. Hopefully it doesn’t escalate.

The Good Neighbors may be more than they seem. While it’s surely full of well-intended neighborhood watch types, its leadership might have other ideas. Some people are going missing and it’s usually presumed to be connected to the strange behavior others are exhibiting, but the Neighbors have been weirdly tight-lipped about a few of these disappearances. Will your character investigate or get caught up in their the Neighbors’ secrecy? [Send us a ModMail if interested in this longer-term plot – a few characters can be involved, but first come first served!]

[otherpeoplescreativity]

Photo descriptions in Alt text.

I decided to enrich my ttrpg enclosure by upgrading some organizational stuff.

I have owned these wooden boxes for years. They are great for tidying away minis or handout props, but within two weeks I stop seeing the boxes. That means I forget about their contents.

Maybe I can make the boxes stand out from the bookshelf a bit? Adorn with metaphors for the plot devices they should contain?

My first step on the little crate is to sand it down, at least around the edges. It's going back inside for tonight, because I cannot deal with the noise and smell of sawdust. Anyway, I want to install hinges on the lid so I can get rid of the nails.

Everything else needs at least a couple coats of this sparkly metallic blue stain. Except the coffee and lid -- those are for keeping me going.

I'm painting exclusively inside the cardboard box. Also they will stay in the box while they dry. I know that I will have spray, drips, and spills; I want to clean up easily, without damaging my home or the front garden.

.

Later:

I thought a single coat to most surfaces would take me about fifteen minutes. I stopped here for the evening because I had been standing for over an hour.

The little cube takes the stain well! I continue to roll low on my minimal Mechanical Skills stat. Cube looks surprisingly even. I can see my haphazard brush stroke technique on the rectangular box. That one may require three coats to get a pleasing result.

I used the old smartphone box to wipe excess paint off of the paintbrush because I have no idea if it could look nice. What the hey, I don't have that phone anyhow.

[alexilulu]

Books I Read in 2024 #9: Saevus Corax Deals With the Dead (K.J. Parker (pen name of Tom Holt), Orbit Books, 2023)

The eponymous Saevus Corax is the leader of a band of battlefield salvagers working in the shared history that K.J. Parker has written since his first novels in The Engineer trilogy, cleaning up dead bodies and turning their remaining belongings into a hard-earned profit. Saevus' old life comes back to haunt him and force him into a no-win race across the world in order to find a way to prevent a war beyond imagining.

K.J. Parker (the pen name of british writer Tom Holt, whose primary work is in re-imaginations of fairy tales) is a hell of a writer. His primary focus is on a gorgeously detailed world that draws directly upon world historical and sociopolitical developments in antiquity, focusing particularly on themes around technological innovation, the ways it can be leveraged by bad actors, and the progress of history. If you're the type of person who goes in for connecting all the dots, there's about a billion little things in these novels that all chart to one another beyond just country names and the rise and fall of the various empires that make up the world; the Parkerverse is stunningly detailed.

His greatest strength is in his dialogue; though more than a little anachronistic and tongue-in-cheek, his characters are brilliantly detailed clockwork people, the type of protagonists who you can intimately understand by the end of the novel and see the turn coming when they're forced up against the wall and their principles (of which they often have very few).

Saevus Corax is one in a long tradition of K.J. Parker protagonists, men who are too smart for their own good and find themselves in situations that demand every ounce of their cunning, wit and willingness to do bad in the face of their own destruction. He captains a nameless organization working in the battlefield salvage industry, making a killing cleaning up the remnants of the frequent skirmishes and wars of the setting, recovering abandoned military equipment and repairing it for resale, stitching up the survivors and ransoming them back to their countries for the cost of their care, and burning the bodies of the dead to prevent the spread of disease.

And yet, Saevus Corax is not who he says he is. The novel hinges around his own past, the haunting deaths in his past that have lead him into such a precarious career as this. The novel hinges upon death; after the death that changed his life, he habitually avoids killing others. When he finds dying men on the battlefield, his doctor does everything he can to save them. When he has an enemy that betrayed him and cost him money and safety, he only returns as much as he has received in turn, stopping well short of killing them (though he does strand them in a desert with just barely enough water to survive). He has denied death purchase on his life beyond the amount it has already scarred him.

But that first death can't be hidden or avoided.

In many of K.J. Parker's other trilogy works (I'm thinking primarily of the Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City series, which continues in How to Rule an Empire and Get Away With It, but also the Two of Swords novels), he takes a much broader expanse of story than he does here; which is to say, they don't feel like a trilogy of fantasy novels in the same way that others do. Each of the Sixteen Ways novels have a new protagonist and are set after the previous installment with new protagonists springing out of the circumstances of the last novel. The Two of Swords hardly establishes a primary point of view character until the back half of the first novel, taking its time to establish the grand stakes of the world-spanning war between two halves of a separated Byzantine and Holy Roman Empire analogue and all the people caught in the middle of it.

But this...this is a first in a trilogy ass trilogy novel. It does end well, and it's a fun ride throughout, but Deals With the Dead is clearly building to something far grander with regards to Saevus than I've grown to expect from K.J.

I have great faith that it will go somewhere, but some part of me worries in a genre like this when things end like this.

For the people who think this all sounds great and want a stand-alone experience by the author in the setting to get a feel for it, I strongly recommend The Folding Knife, a brilliant picture of a Vesani politician's rise and subsequent fall. The summary on the page is brilliant, so I'll reproduce it here:

Basso the Magnificent. Basso the Great. Basso the Wise. The First Citizen of the Vesani Republic is an extraordinary man. He is ruthless, cunning, and above all, lucky. He brings wealth, power and prestige to his people. But with power comes unwanted attention, and Basso must defend his nation and himself from threats foreign and domestic. In a lifetime of crucial decisions, he's only ever made one mistake. One mistake, though, can be enough.