#No breadcrumbs required ;)

[back-to-louis]

Holy shit good job I still log into the internet from time to time!

[sysig]

♥!

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

how do i get my character out of the corner i wrote myself in without a dues ex machina😭

How to Not Write Yourself Into a Corner (and How to Write Yourself Out of a Corner if You’re Already In One)

One of a writer’s WORST fears is writing themself into a corner.

It’s easy to write your characters into death-defying situations…but it’s not as easy to write the actual “defying death” part.

Some writers, in their desperation to get their characters out of a bind, employ the use of a Deus Ex Machina, as mentioned by anon:

Deus Ex Machina: (Translates to "god from the machine") A plot device where a seemingly unsolvable situation is fixed by an out-of-the-blue occurrence. The term “deus ex machina” is a reference to Greek plays, when actors playing a god would literally be lowered into the scene via a machine to magically solve any situation.

Unfortunately, this plot device is often ridiculed by readers, cited as a hack-job solution for a writer out of ideas.

How do we avoid this situation, then? Here are some tips and tricks on how to not write yourself into a corner, and how to write yourself out of a corner if you’re already in one!

Note that these tips may not work for everyone, so make sure to use your own intuition as a writer— you know your story best.

1. NIP IT IN THE BUD— OUTLINES ARE KEY!

I’m sorry to all of you pantsers out there, but the key to prevent writing yourself into a corner is to already have an idea of how each scene is going to turn out; don't make a problem without making a solution! If you keep on top of your outline, you should have no worries about writing your characters into a situation they can't get out of it.

It may be easiest to jot down ideas about a couple of scenarios and then select the one that works best, especially when it comes to dire climax scenes that have a lot of moving parts. 

Check out my posts below for more in-depth advice about outlining!

How to Outline

Plotting for Pansters and Pantsing for Plotters

This advice, although essential, does require a ton of foresight and time to plan…and if you’ve sought out this post, it may mean that it’s too late for preventative measures. The subsequent tips in this post are going to be for people who are already in the thick of it and need a way to save all of their writing progress. 

2. FORESHADOWING IS YOUR FRIEND (AKA “CHEKHOV’S GUN YOUR WAY OUT OF THAT SHIT”)

Foreshadowing: A narrative device wherein a writer gives an advance hint of what is to come later in the story. It helps maintain believability while subverting expectations and making plot twists.

Chekhov’s Gun: A narrative device wherein a seemingly insignificant element or object in the story becomes useful later on. Sometimes used synonymously with foreshadowing, but usually refers to a specific object.

Examples of Foreshadowing/Chekhov’s guns in media:

The 1981 Quarter (Or Extra Life Quarter) in Ready Player One

“Don’t Cross the Streams” in Ghostbusters (1984)

Winchester Rifle Hanging over the Bar in Shaun of the Dead (2004)

The Rita Hayworth Poster in The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

The Water Bottle in Bullet Train (2022)

In my opinion, a Chekhov’s Gun is the more refined twin of the deus ex machina; although it may seem like it comes out of nowhere, observant readers or those who go back into the story will realize that this event was set up from the beginning.

Foreshadowing is the key to turning a deus ex machina into a Chekhov’s Gun. It’s spreading breadcrumbs to maintain believability even when unbelievable things happen.

My advice: plant a line here and there referring to the object/element that will get you out of the corner.

These lines can be about a healing potion that a character carries around to save them when they’re at the brink of death, the fact that the city they’re fighting in often suffers from sinkholes, or that a character has a seemingly useless skill. 

However, haphazardly inserting foreshadowing into your story may come across as heavy-handed; make sure it aligns with the narrative beats. Particularly big Chekhov’s Guns, especially ones that “save the day," may require multiple foreshadowing elements.

It can take a lot of work to incorporate the foreshadowing smoothly, so make sure it actually saves you time in comparison to rewriting the whole scenario/plot point.

3. TAKE A BREAK

Sometimes, the solution to your problem may not come to mind because you’re too immersed into the writing process and not thinking of the bigger picture. Or maybe it might just be good old-fashioned writer’s block. Take a step back, reassess, and return with the scene properly re-evaluated. Maybe start a new book or TV show to get some inspiration, or check out one of my posts below!

How to Overcome Writer’s Block

How to Get Inspired to Write and Regain Creativity

4. ASK FOR HELP

Sometimes, it might be best to have another set of eyes on your story! A situation that may seem unsolvable to you may have an obvious solution to a writing buddy.

5. KNOW THAT SOMETIMES RE-WRITING IS NECESSARY

I know this sounds horrible. It’s something that I wouldn’t wish upon any writer.

Sometimes, however, no amount of foreshadowing can get your characters out of the debacle they’ve put themselves in. Either that, or the work that it would take to insert the foreshadowing would be more than it’d take to rewrite the scene or the plot point.

My suggestion would be to search for the last place that you didn't feel lost, and then cut out everything after that.

(NEVER DELETE MAJOR CHUNKS OF YOUR WRITING! ALWAYS CUT IT AND SAVE IT IN A SCRAP DOC—IT COULD COME IN HANDY LATER!)

Then, take the time to outline the scenario and figure out the solution to your problem beforehand. It will suck, but trust me, it'll be worth it in the end.

HOPE THIS HELPED, AND HAPPY WRITING!

[oni28]

March 2024 Recipe_Arancini, Maritozzo

[Recipe Information]

※ Need Recipe Pack Mod Latest Version (24.03.08 version) ※

Arancini

1, 4, 8 serve

Category : Meals

Cooking Level_05

Vegetarian-Safe. Arancini is Italian rice balls that are stuffed, coated with breadcrumbs and deep-fried.

Required Ingredients for 1 serve : Any Rice(1)

Required Ingredients for 4 serve :Any Rice(2), Any Cheese(1), Tomato Sauce(1), Basil(1)

Required Ingredients for 8 serve : Any Rice(3), Any Cheese(2), Tomato Sauce(2), Basil(2)

Lots challenge 'Simple Living' Compatible.

Group Cooking Compatible

Maritozzo

1, 4, 8 serve

Category : Bake

Cooking Level_04

Vegetarian-Safe. Italian style cream buns.

Required Ingredients for 1 serve : Flour Or Sugar(1)

Required Ingredients for 4 serve : Flour Or Sugar(2), Egg(1), Milk(1)

Required Ingredients for 8 serve : Flour Or Sugar(3), Egg(2), Milk(2)

Lots challenge 'Simple Living' Compatible.

Cooking Time Reduced Compatible

Group Cooking Compatible

All ingredients are optional

Any Rice need SCCO MOD

[Language]

Korean (by_oni)

English (by_oni)

📌T.O.U

-Don’t re-upload

(Latest patch compatible)

👩‍👩‍👧‍👦 Public Released on April 3rd, 2024 (KST)

DL Arancini

DL Maritozzo

[genshin-impact-updates]

Guilty waters run deep

"Navia, do you remember when I refused the title of 'Baron' bestowed upon me by the Palais Mermonia a few years back? Well, that's beside the point. Today, I finally met the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide. I had always assumed that 'Duke' was simply a hollow title too... But it turns out that Wriothesley is far more worldly than he looks."

— Callas, former President of the Spina di Rosula

◆ Name: Wriothesley

◆ Title: Emissary of Solitary Iniquity

◆ Lord of the Fortress of Meropide

◆ Vision: Cryo

◆ Constellation: Cerberus

"Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide"

— If Wriothesley needed a namecard, this would suffice.

No foreword, and no epilogue. Just like that place of exiled convicts he's in charge of, standing there silently at the bottom of the sea.

Despite its discretion, as a resting place for criminals, the Fortress of Meropide harbors a network of conflicting interests that would have a corrupting influence on many.

But even if someone was bent on infiltrating this place, they'd soon be swallowed up like breadcrumbs in a bowl of soup.

Some have lauded His Grace's aptitude for taking care of thorny problems. Hearing such praise, Wriothesley would simply lower his teacup... and pick up his newspaper.

"You've got the wrong end of the stick. They just wanted somewhere to lead well-ordered lives, and I gave them the 'tranquility' they required."

[bloody-teared-angel]

What I've noticed about people who defend HH/HB religiously are the types of ppl who have been to every panel, watched every Q&A and stream and followed Miss Medrano on Twitter and Instagram.

They followed the making off HH/HB for years so they KNOW the information.

The general audience does not.

And it's even more baffling that they throw a tantrum, when we are asking the basic questions or 'Where did xyz came from?' Because for the general audience, it does not make sense due to the setting of the show.

Quite a few people said this, that HH/HB feels fanficy and now thinking it over, I couldn't agree more.

Miss Medrano expecteded that ppl would walk into the show ALREADY KNOWING the characters but most walked in confused af.

Why?

Because the amount of homework that would require for me to understand is ridiculous, frankly.

I've also seen it in the comment section under few YT videos where ppl are saying:

'Vivziepop said this on Twitter year ago.' Or 'She said xyz at a panel.' Etc.

If the general audience asks you, where is the information and you say: "It was said during a stream a year ago." Then why wasn't that information implemented into the show?

These shows weren't meant for general audiences. They were meant for followers of Miss Medrano, where she is assuming you did your due diligence and followed her all these years.

And that's where she fails as a writer. No, you cannot convince me this is a good writing because it is not.

HALO did the same thing and got dragged for it and rightfully so.

Then why are we not allowed to criticise Miss Medrano?

Maybe I know.

Controversial take: Just because something has gays in it doesn't mean its good. If you satisfy yourself with breadcrumbs and moldy bread, you will be getting breadcrumbs and moldy bread.

[theliteraryarchitect]

You can burn your story slower than you think.

There's a lot of noise online about getting your reader's attention immediately, starting in medias res (in the middle of things), and the slippery science of "hooks." But readers are a lot more patient than we give them credit for.

Recently I've been re-reading the Harry Potter books. The Goblet of Fire is 734 pages long. When would you guess that Harry discovers his name has been entered into the goblet, and that he will have to participate in the tri-wizard tournament?

Based on the usual writing advice, I'd guess no more than a few chapters into the book, say, page 100? But Harry doesn't have his name called until page 271. And he doesn't start the first task until page 337. That's halfway through the book!

What happens in the meantime?

First, Rowling works in the background information we'll need to understand the ending. She shows us Wormtail's reunion with Voldemort, introduces Bagman and Crouch, lets us know how a Portkey works, and explains the unforgivable curses.

Second, she introduces a few mysteries--Harry's painful scar, the mystery of who set off the dark mark at the Quidditch World Cup, and, of course, repeated references to an unknown event that will be taking place at Hogwart's this year. These unanswered questions keep the reader curious as she takes her time in the first half of the book.

So she's not leaving us adrift in those first 300 pages. But she's also not hitting us over the head with some incredible event right away. The lesson? If you leave a trail of breadcrumbs, no matter how faint, readers will follow them to the end, and your story can burn delightfully slowly--no forced drama required.

Hope this helps!

[edoro]

a few things i have noticed:

during the conversation he has with you after the whole deal with Araj Oblodra, Astarion says something along the lines of feeling sick at the idea of "getting on my back for breadcrumbs", and i feel like that's not the only time he uses the specific phrase of "getting on my back," although i could just be mixing up a slightly different dialogue tree from the same conversation

during that same conversation, he says that out of the thousands of people he's slept with, "most of them didn't even grant me temporary bliss"

we hear about/see two former conquests during the game, and both of them are men - one is poor Sebastian, and then the other is the unnamed 'darling boy' who he couldn't bear to bring back to Cazador

putting all of these things together, i believe that the text we're given heavily supports the idea that he primarily (not exclusively, but primarily) went after male victims, that he bottomed for them, and that he rarely orgasmed

and i would like to add my own idea, that the reason for this isn't necessarily that he prefers men but that, given that he was surviving on a starvation diet of rat blood and insects, he just flat out did not have enough blood to get or stay hard enough to penetrate someone

there are still plenty of fun things to do with a pussy that don't require an erection, of course, and i'm sure Astarion is well-practiced at all of them, but practically speaking it's probably a lot quicker, easier, and less likely to lead to potential awkwardness (or, worst of all, someone leaving) to tempt a man into fucking him than risk a woman being upset he can't finish the job - i imagine he dealt with plenty of pressure about what Real Sex was and what people expected from him in those moments

bottoming comes with a built-in excuse for not getting hard - sometimes you just don't! - that men who are used to fucking other men will probably not make too much of a fuss about

i have also noticed that during the two sex scenes with him i've gotten so far where you actually see part of the lead-up (haven't finished the game so i don't know if we only get those three total or if there's another one), he makes a point of playfully picking the player up or pushing the player down so that he's either holding and controlling their body OR he's on top of them

it's part of the flirtation but it's also a pretty clear pattern - he wants to be physically on top and in control!

so, all that being said, i think that Astarion deserves to get to pin Halsin down and stick his dick in a hot, living body for the first time in 200 years and go absolutely feral fucking him until Halsin's the one who comes out of it looking like he was mauled by a bear

[the-californicationist]

he buys you jewelry

The incessant whir of the tattoo gun was droning on as you watched Price’s freshly-shaved shoulder and back take on the sweeping artwork of a huge dragon. It had arching wings and a terrible snarl, and its long tongue breathed fire out onto his spine. You weren’t sure why he was getting a dragon, or what the symbolism was, but it was beautiful work. It fit his body perfectly. 

You’d been dating the soldier for about two months now, and he was very intense. He was apparently a captain of some sort of special forces group, but he hadn’t burdened you with the details. As you spoke with him and shared more things about yourself, he would leave little breadcrumbs about himself along the way, opening up slowly like a tight bud, blooming right in front of your eyes. 

His violent career was probably why he was taking this tattoo like it was a massage, chatting happily with you and his artist, Jana, totally unfazed by the repeated stabbing pain of the needles. Price was laid across the black chair, shirtless and hatless with his chest down and his back exposed to Jana. She was working away diligently, and you were in a prime location to drool over his body.

You’d been naked together already, and he was a damn fine lover, but his huge frame still made you hot, bothered, and unquenchably thirsty. You let your eyes drag over his hulking shoulders, gazing at the banded muscle in his back, his huge lats fanning out like wings, leading down to a trim but strong core. His skin was dusted with thick hair and a starfield of freckles. Old and new tattoos lay nestled around his body, telling a story you were slowly unfolding. John Price was gorgeous. 

“Mm,” he groaned, “Back of the arm is a bitch.”

“You need a break, John?” Jana asked him, “‘Cause I could use a smoke.”

“You bet,” Price smiled in agreement, letting her clean him up and wrap the skin to keep it safe. 

You handed him a bottle of water and grabbed an orange from your bag, following him to the back of the parlor. He dusted off a bench for you to sit with him, and he lit a tin cigar. You started to peel your orange, handing him a segment at a time, sharing it together as his smoke rolled out of his nose and mouth, spiraling up from the glowing embers. He offered it to you, and you took it.

The smoke was warm and filled your mouth, heating the sensitive skin of your cheeks. The tobacco and vanilla notes blended with the sweetness of the orange creating a pleasant taste, and it was satisfying to blow it away from you. More satisfying, however, was the indulgent expression on Price’s face when you did so, his bearded grin turning almost smug when you looked up at him to return his cigar. 

“Does it hurt?” You asked him, getting a peek at his dragon. It was nearly finished.

“It hurts in a good way, ya know? Pain…” he paused for a moment, thinking, his gaze focused on something far away, “Pain requires fear. If you can move past it, you can overcome it. I just try to find something I’d rather feel than fear.”

“What do you usually feel?” You asked, biting into another juicy slice of your orange. 

“Rage,” he smiled a little sadly, staring down at his hands, “I’m quick with my anger. Comes too easy for me, sometimes.”

“Do you feel rage now?” You probed further, handing him another shining lobe from the fruit.

He looked at you, brushing your hair over your ear gently, 

“No, love. Not rage. Something else, though.”

For a moment, his stark blue eyes drew you in, turning into pools of endless, cloudless sky. You thought he might kiss you. You might have a chance to taste the mixture of tobacco and orange in his mouth, feel his slick tongue slip against yours. You wanted to be pressured by his jaw to open up to him, to allow him to taste whatever he wanted to taste, to take whatever he wanted to take. 

“Hey, mate,” Jana poked her head around the corner, “You ready to finish up?”

“Yeah,” Price replied, his eyes not leaving yours, gripping you without using his hands. 

“Looks brilliant, Jans,” Price admired his dragon in the mirror, inspecting the fine details of its black scales, “You’re the best.” 

“You like it?” She smiled, admiring the work as well, pride shining on her face. 

“Yeah, I’m proper chuffed. Now it’s her turn,” he nodded over to you. 

“What?” You gaped, surprised at the sudden focus. 

He let Jana place the protective film over his tattoo and pulled his shirt back on, commenting,

“You wanted to get some work done, yeah?”

“Oh, right,” you said, remembering you’d told him how badly you wanted a tongue piercing since you were a teenager, “Not sure I have the funds, so -”

“No,” Price shook his head, “It’s on me, love. Whatever you want.”

“Really?” You couldn’t believe he would just drop money on you like it was nothing. Jana’s studio was one of those invite-only, get-on-a-waiting-list type of places. Very posh. This wasn’t going to be cheap.

 He nodded, fixing his shirt and sliding over to give you a chaste kiss, 

“Anything for you, sweet girl,” he grinned, lowering his voice, “You gonna pierce that pretty tongue for me to play with, hm?”

You could feel your cheeks grow hot from the way his comment made you feel, bellowing the fire that was growing in your core. You turned to Jana who was cleaning up her station,

“Are you able to do a tongue piercing today?”

She smiled, 

“For John’s girl? Anytime. Have a seat.”

She brought over some bars for you to choose from. You worried about how sensitive your skin was, but tried not to be picky. When you asked about hypoallergenic options, she brought out a whole tray, watching as you and Price perused the selections. 

“This one?” You pointed to a polymer style. It was bright fluorescent pink, and it almost glowed in the container. 

“Very safe. The PTFE will be the easiest to avoid infection,” Jana told you confidently. She really knew her craft. You watched as she prepped the needle, and you started to get nervous. 

Price noticed of course, and he reached out for your hand,

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you smiled up at him, grimacing a bit, admitting your nervousness. 

The captain reminded you, squeezing your hand, 

“Don’t think about the fear.”  

“What should I think about instead?”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, and your heart froze in your chest as you listened to his words,

“I can’t stop thinking about how it’s going to make me feel when you lick my cock. I want you to rub it against my head, underneath, in that bloody spot that I like.”

“Ready?” Jana asked, interrupting your salacious thoughts. 

Price backed off, smirking with a proud look on his face, knowing he had made your blood run hot, straight to your belly. You nodded, giving her your tongue. You expected to be nervous again, but you weren’t. You were, however, extremely horny. 

Then, the clamp. A few seconds later, the sting. Your eyes wrenched shut, and Price squeezed your hand tighter. You opened them to look up at him, and his expression had darkened. He was staring into your mouth, looking at the piercing, obviously getting turned on by it. You watched him, sitting behind Jana, adjust himself in his pants, grasping at his growing shaft, trying to calm down. 

“All done,” Jana smiled, showing you a hand mirror, “and look - ”

She shined a blacklight over it, making it glow even brighter, 

“Pretty!” She exclaimed. 

She explained the aftercare, giving you plenty of products, and glaring at Price, making sure he followed the hygiene steps, too.

You left the shop sore, but you were distracted by the feeling of the wetness between your legs. John hugged you tightly before opening the passenger side door for you to climb into his car, 

“Poor darling, want to go for ice cream? Something to soothe that tongue?”

You nodded, looking at him expectantly, knowing he was still half-hard. His thickness made it impossible to miss. 

“Yeah, John, that sounds good.”

“After a few days, she said you’d be back to fighting shape, hm? I can’t wait.”

His laugh was dark and full of promise. He leaned over the center console to kiss your neck, and you felt like you might melt through the seat. He pulled out of the parking lot, and as the lights from the city glittered over his windshield, you held his hand, feeling like his precious pet, something to be cherished.

[burnthoneydrops]

The Sun and the Moon II (e.b. x original character)

synopsis: the first ball for two recently debuted girls reveals a familiar feeling for one.

requested: no

warnings: none

word count: 1.6k

a/n: heyyyy, anyone remember this from over a year ago? im so sorry for the delay, i really ran out of long writing motivation there for a hot second, but hopefully i'm back at it? i make absolutely no promises though

My right glove sags unceremoniously from my arm and as I go to adjust it for the millionth time, Aunt Moore tugs at the back of my dress. I quickly retract my arm back to my side as we step through the double doors of the conservatory Lady Danbury had secured for the evening. She seemed a most formidable lady indeed, from what Aunt Moore’s staff had told me,  but the gorgeous flowers hanging from the walls were not overtly intimidating. Hearing that she was sponsoring two girls also foreign to the ton had put me at ease this afternoon, as I hoped I might find some comfort in a group of those trying to learn. I would never suggest admitting that I am an outsider to Aunt Moore, but I fear my accent has already done that for me. 

“Lord Cabernathy, the oldest of his mother’s five children, hardly objectionable,” Aunt Moore has spotted her first victim standing against a floral column. 

“Being the eldest is the only requirement making one suitable for a wife? The bar seems incredibly low,” I reply, much to my aunt’s dismay. 

“Must you be difficult when we have only just walked in the room?” She mutters through gritted teeth as another mama and her daughter walk past us with odd looks in their eyes. She smiles and waves at them, looking at my sideways to ensure that I heard her. 

“Is there anyone else, with at least more admirable qualifications?” I offer. 

“Lord Landry, a fine young man whose family owns a renowned horse breeding farm in the country. Good standing, only child so due to inherit a large fortune when his parents pass”. 

“Ah yes, wishing death upon people your age, my favourite pastime”. 

“I am merely stating that he would have a sizable income to take care of you,” Aunt Moore sighs. 

“I suppose the horse farm would not be the most impossible thing,” I try to sympathise with her efforts, thinking back to my family at home. 

Aunt Moore turns to me, and for a second I think she is stooping to an apology, when there is suddenly one voice ringing above them. “This is the season the Viscount intends to find  a wife!” 

As if someone had thrown a pile of breadcrumbs in front of some incredibly competitive pigeons, a flock of young ladies swarm the location of the voice. Standing on the tops of my feet, I see a rather uncomfortable looking man with his mother at the other set of doors. I recognize the mother from the presentation, Lady Bridgerton. Before I have time to recount this thought to Aunt Moore, she is pushing me towards the flock. I attempt to delay the process by dragging my heels into the ground, but her will is stronger than my calves, so I lose the battle quite quickly. I am stuck at the back of the half circle, watching girls fling their dance cards in the Viscount’s face, hoping he would sign his name. I would believe that half of these girls even felt blessed that he breathed in their direction, but I have slightly more hope for humanity than that thought would allow. 

As the circle of girls starts to diminish, thanks to those who realise that nothing productive will come of this swarm, I am left standing in front of the Viscount with Aunt Moore watching me from her seemingly perched position against the column. “Lord Bridgerton, it is an honour,” I state, curtseying as best I could despite the slight wobble in my ankles. 

“It is an honour to meet you as well,” he replies, though I can tell he is looking to get away as quickly as possible. His mother seems to pick up on my identity quicker than her son, as I catch her eyeing me in my peripheral, followed by her mouth forming a soft ‘oh’ of recognition. 

“You must be Lady Moore’s charge for the season,” she verbalises her thoughts, and it is then that Lord Bridgerton actually looks at me. 

“Indeed I am Miss,” I nod. 

“Lovely to be formally introduced. I noticed you at the modiste and the presentation, but it’s wonderful to properly make your acquaintance,” Lady Bridgerton smiles at me as I stand back up, finally being able to look both of them in the eye. 

“Perhaps a dance, Miss Moore?” Lord Bridgerton proposes as his mother wraps a gentle arm around his elbow. 

“I would be delighted my Lord,” I reply, extending my dance card forward so he may sign it. 

“I shall see you then,” he gives a curt smile before departing, leaving his mother and I by the double doors. I look back over at Aunt Moore, who is smiling like I have never seen before, and I excuse myself to head back over to her. 

“Very good start, I must say,” she says and I cannot tell if she is more proud of me or herself. 

It is soon after this that Aunt Moore goes to fetch herself a refreshment, and I make my way to a more secluded corner of the dance floor, hoping to watch and possibly learn the dances I had to forgo in my training. Though Father was keen on teaching me all the dances he remembered from his days in the ton, there is only so much dancing one can do while also running a family business. There appears another single young lady standing among the crowd, so I try to make my way towards her. It is clear she is watching someone else on the dance floor, and by the looks of it, it is Lord Bridgerton and the not-so-spectacular dance he is currently leading. 

“That young lady will soon be marked off his list I fear,” I comment, partially out in the open and partially hoping she will hear me. 

“Lord Bridgerton indeed seems rather frustrated,” she replies, keeping her gaze forward. “Would you prefer it to be you on that dance floor instead?” she continues. 

“Oh, not notably so. Though my Aunt would have you believe I do, she'll tell anyone just about anything to have me wed before the end of the season”. I pause for laughter, and when I am the only one who partakes, I continue, “do you wish for his name to be on your dance card?” 

“I am merely observing for my sister. She seemed most interested in him from afar, so I decided I would watch from the sidelines”. 

“What a fulfilment of sisterly duty,” I reply as Lord Bridgerton drops the girl’s hands, nodding curtly before heading outside. 

“Excuse me,” the dark skinned girl departs from my side and I suddenly feel alone once again. 

I stand off to the side for as long as I can stand, letting a few songs play through, before I realise that the next song is in fact my dance with Lord Bridgerton. I suddenly feel guilty, as if I am betraying the conversation I had previously with the mysterious other girl, but quickly depart from the crowd nonetheless so I can find my forced dance partner. He enters back in from the double doors and I am about to turn back around on account of how aggravated he looks, but Aunt Moore has somehow found me before I am able to do it. With a few words of aggressive encouragement, I am back on my trail, stopping right before the Lord and reminding him of our dance. 

The ensemble begins playing once again as the Viscount takes my hands, leading me to the right side of the dance floor. I do not dare start the conversation, both in fear of his current emotional state and that I might run my mouth and have my aunt dragging me out of the ballroom by my earlobe. 

“Your aunt is watching you for the season?” The Viscount starts. 

“Yes, my Lord, my aunt has been gracious enough to sponsor my debut this season”. 

“And your family, did they accompany you?” 

“Unfortunately not, the rest of them stayed back home”.

“And home is…” he trails off. 

“The Irish countryside my Lord,” I reply, looking between him and my feet to make sure I do not trample his. 

“You must miss them,” he supplies more to the conversation, though looks displeased at my inability to multitask. 

“Terribly,” I add as he spins me outwards. 

At that moment, I feel as though all time has stopped. No longer with the fear that I might step on the Viscount’s toes, I am spinning around the highly decorated room, attempting to keep my gaze locked on a stationary object. It is her. My stationary object is the girl I saw at the modiste and the presentation. Eloise Bridgerton. She stands at the edge of the dance floor, actively avoiding her mother I assume, fiddling with her dance card. I do not know what has happened between when I saw her last and now, but I cannot help but notice how radiant she looks. My vision becomes hazy surrounding anything that is not her, as if I can focus on nothing else. She cannot possibly know she is having this effect on me, as she is simply standing there. I fear I might lose all the saliva in my mouth with the way my heart rate spikes, and just as quickly as the moment started, it is ending. 

The Viscount is grabbing my hand once again, spinning back into him before we resume our normal facing positions. I glance quickly over his shoulder as we rotate clockwise to see if I can catch Eloise again, but alas she has run off. He nods at me once our dance has finished and hurries off to find the next young lady he promised a dance to and I am left there stunned. 

All I know, Aunt Moore’s pushing might have been more helpful than I previously imagined.

[kohakurin8]

~ Elevator Hitch ~

What Does it All Mean!?

A brief theory on the symbolism and lore behind a really cool game

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

This post will contain SPOILERS for the game and all 14 endings. If you wish to play Elevator Hitch before reading, you can download it for free at this link.

So, Where do we begin?

Elevator Hitch is a really cool isolated-loop surreal horror game. For those of you who aren't familiar with this concept, an "isolated-loop" is a time-loop scenario which only affects a single person, small group of people, single room, etc. — but does NOT affect the entire world or universe. This is where it's common to see things like acquiring an item in your inventory, getting murdered, then waking up again at the beginning of the day with the item still in your inventory.

This concept has been used in various different media, and to varying different degrees of complexity. But, honestly, I think this game is my favorite instance of it so far.

So our story revolves around Protag, a somewhat meek and nervous lil guy who comes to this office building to take an interview for a new job. All he knows is that his interview isn't on the first floor, so he gets in the elevator in an attempt to find it. Before the door closes, Coworker forces his way in, and the elevator suddenly shorts out and jams before you two can begin your journey. The rest of the game is your various attempts to exit the elevator (alive) which get increasingly bizarre — especially after Protag realizes that whenever he dies, time restarts to when they first entered the elevator!

Shame Coworker doesn't seem to remember anything, though...

Now, since the lore within the game is pretty cryptic, none of our questions about the situation ever seem to get totally answered. It's up to the player to theorize and surmise just what exactly is happening to Protag and Coworker, and that's exactly what I've come here to do.

Death and Clues on Every Floor...

Literally! Every floor is a single room containing at least 1 clue, and at least 1 possible death — including the elevator itself. But what's even more important than that is the lore that all of these scenes show you.

Interestingly enough, the lore all seems to revolve around who Protag is as a person, to the point that one of the floors is actually his childhood bedroom.

Kind of intriguing that everything about this environment is centered around him, huh?

Hold onto that thought.

Every room and scenario is increasingly more bizarre, featuring anything from Eldritch-esque beings to settings that could almost pass for torture chambers. Every puzzle requires something from a different floor, making it ridiculously easy to screw up and croak, meanwhile Coworker is so maddeningly unaware that even when he tries to offer advice it's just as cryptic as the situation itself.

It all feels a lot... Like Hell...

Not just as an expression, but actual Hell. Mind rending stimuli navigated through tedious puzzle solving, where the penalty is gruesome death and the only reward is more torture. A neverending loop of suffering and confusion. It's all quite hellish!

At first this feels a bit superficial. "Of course it's hellish, this is a horror game!" But, honestly, good horror like this game is rarely ever bizarre and incomprehensible for the sheer shock value. If all of these allusions were superficial, why would we have such a detailed and cryptic conversation with Manuel, the maintenance worker?

Why would every single "correct answer" to the puzzles have sinister undertones?

Why would the religious subtext in Protag's room be so subtle and yet so distinct at the same time?

So if we humour ourselves and follow this train of thought then that leads one to wonder...

Why would Protag be in Hell?

Good question! After all, he doesn't even seem to be aware of having any initial death!

But, we are given breadcrumbs to what sort of person Protag is through the various different scenarios that ensue. Some things are minor details, like his lack of remorse for feeding an innocent rat to a hungry black hole. Others are more intense and significant, like the clues in his bedroom...

Let's start with pointing out the obvious direction that Protag's dialogue trees nudge you in.

After all, this game is a visual novel, so of course there are points when your dialogue options matter and can very well change the outcome of the situation. However, most VNs have options that are distinctly "good" or "bad" for the story directions, often leading the player on a journey of teaching the protagonist how to be a better person.

But Protag.... doesn't become better...

All of his dialogue options are either:

• Confusion, Frustration, Disbelief

• Self-Deprecating, Meek

• Deceptive

• Lashing Out

Obviously some of these options are better for certain scenarios. Deceiving Coworker into giving you his lighter is a way better idea than trying to steal it and burning you both to death.

And deceiving your Doppelgangers into trusting you before your brutal betrayal is arguably better than trusting them and getting betrayed in return.

But none of these options point to Protag being a good person. As much as he learns to adapt to his environment, nothing he does teaches him how to be a better person than he started out as. In fact, some of them even lead him to commit murder himself!

Of course, this isn't saying that Protag is necessarily a bad person either. After all, his initial reaction to the Doppelgangers is to trust them and even show them pity.

We also get a lot of information about Protag from the floor that mimics his childhood bedroom. He was monitored constantly by overbearing and religious parents, to the point that one of the Bad Ends is his parents entering the room.

He couldn't sleep, plagued by nightmarish beings which he even made drawings of, and had to take sleeping pills just to cope (which may or may not have been hidden from his parents as well)

Considering this, and just the sheer amount of existential dread Protag has upon visiting this floor, it's very possible that his parents were abusive. His personality issues are probably a result of that abuse, meaning even though he isn't necessarily a good person, he also isn't inherently a bad one.

The Allusions of Suicide...

This should honestly come as no surprise, but this game does have a lot of potential allusions to suicide. Especially when taking into account what suicide means in Christianity...

I first noticed this in the dialogue on Floor 9 with Normal Guy, as well as the dialogue contained in Ending 13 (screenshot above). During the interview on Floor 9, Protag seems to struggle with answering most of the questions. When asked why he wanted a new job, all of the answers imply that he doesn't actually know why, and when asked why he left his old job, Protag states that "it wasn't a Real Job" or at least not one viewed as respectable.

Then, when attempting to leave the Lobby on Floor 1, Protag is blocked by an alarming figure who berates him. The figure taunts Protag with phrases he's likely told himself, like "you worked so hard to get here" and especially "you NEED this job"

Now, this game absolutely LOVES its workplace puns, and something about these ones just struck me as significant. Upon further reflection on everything going on, I realized that these phrases are almost synonymous with suicidal thoughts.

As someone who's experienced this myself, I understand that a lot of suicidal thoughts are rooted more in the desire for change, and not the desire for death. So consider this...

Protag isn't looking for a new job, he's looking for a new life. His old life didn't feel "real" or "respectable", likely because of whatever abuse he endured from his parents. After all, his childhood bedroom is described by him as his "old place", meaning he likely was living with his parents until somewhat recently.

So then when he finally passes the interview — passes this hellish elevator trial of self-discovery — and tries to flee, he's stopped by the thoughts of regret for taking his own life.

"You worked so hard for this new life, why are you throwing it away?"

"You NEED this change."

"You can't go back to what you were before."

Then there's the Sleeping Pill found in Protag's bedroom. It's not found in a pill bottle or any other typical storage, but rather it's under the bedsheets. This gives the impression that the pill either fell out of Protag's hand in bed, or that he was hiding the pills from his overbearing parents.

Then there's the fact that sleeping pills are a very common medium for attempted suicide.

This leads me to suspect that Protag either overdosed in an attempted suicide as a child, causing his parents to become even more protective.

Or... This is how Protag ended up at the office building in the first place...

Welcome to Protag's Purgatory

Yeah, you may have guessed it already, but I am in fact suggesting that Protag has committed suicide and is currently trapped in Purgatory. After all, if you consider the distinct hint at his religious background, it's not unlikely to be following the Christian belief that suicide will condemn you to Purgatory. In fact, the opening of the game, where Protag feels like the only one who doesn't know where he's going, is a reference to the nature of Purgatory.

Consider, also, the nature of the game. Everything you do in it is a sort of trial, and it all tests the nature of Protag's true self. Not to mention that Purgatory is an unchanging limbo, just as the game paints a picture of an unending time-loop on repeat.

Protag took his own life, and his penance is to be trapped in an unending trial of self-discovery. Floor 9 resembles Heaven, like Cloud 9, where Protag is administered one final test. Normal Guy gives Protag the option to have become a better person, and possibly pass on to a better afterlife, however our dialogue tree tells us that Protag hasn't reached that level of self acceptance yet.

Therefore, the only options are what appears to be working in Purgatory (possibly like Manuel), enduring the trial over and over again, or as hinted by the eerie staircase downward in Ending 14, descent into Hell...

You're probably wondering if this theory accounts for Coworker, and it certainly does. After all, he seems rather unperturbed by the events he's undergone. I suspect he also committed suicide, but didn't have the same background of religious guilt that Protag had growing up. Coworker knows that he's supposed to go to the top, that he's supposed to pass on. He's at peace with who he is and where he's going, therefore he doesn't endure the same personal torture that Protag does.

No matter what ending you get in Elevator Hitch, nothing truly changes for Protag, because he himself hasn't changed. It's possible that there is some sort of future where Protag can change and move on — in fact, Normal Guy even hints that speaking to Coworker more could be the key to his salvation — but this possible future is one we will never see.

Because that's not the point of the game. The point is to become immersed in the torture which Protag goes through, and to try and unravel the mysteries of who he is and what he's enduring.

So there's my thoughts on the game. I hope you all enjoyed reading, and I'd love to hear any comments or input you have!

[kidnickgames]

Character Creation in HELLSITE

HELLSITE is a TTRPG all about, and using, feed-based social media like Twitter, Tumblr, etc. The creation of a social media account is a required bit of utility of the game, but it also features here as a discovery-based form of character creation.

First up is making the profile and bio, which is done by making a real-world Twitter/Tumblr/etc account, acting as both a live character sheet and means of summing your in-game Avatars.

As any of us who have spent enough time on a platform now, what is included and not included (ignoring even the content itself) tells you a lot about that person. The sheer amount that your character includes is a pretty handy indicator of their age- or at least of the age and era they came to discover the internet. Whether or not your character includes pronouns could say something about their political leanings or just the specific subcultures they exist in. Adding a DNI list tells you about their icks and dislikes, but also about their history as a citizen of the internet.

Next comes choosing who your character follows on their account. Quick caveat to the above teaser from the- it very much assumes that the player is using Twitter in their game. Trying to find political figures or even news outlets to follow on Tumblr is nearly impossible, and when it comes to celebrities, you have a whole 2 options. I'll be reworking this page with some more platform-specific recommendations in the final game (: But with that out of the way, the player is prompted to consider more specifically what their character is interested in, who they trust, what they want to be updated on, and what they find funny. These aren't set-in-stone decisions, rather, they're meant to be a series of breadcrumbs the player can use to learn more and more about their character.

My goal with this system is that players can "find" their character and jump into roleplay more easily by asking them a series of questions they ask themselves everyday: What do I want people to know about me when they visit my page? Did this post pique my interest? Do I want to know more about this person's life? Will following this account result in more posts that I like than posts that I don't care about? Does this account share my worldview? Do I care? I'll get into the utility of how the posts on your feed affect the game and the powers granted by your Avatar in another post, but for now, I hope this shed some light on a part of this game I'm really excited to create further! If any of this interested you, HELLSITE is currently live on Kickstarter!

[penaltyboxboxbox]

i'm here for any breadcrumbs of ur android AU >:V

I ACTUALLY HAVE MORE THAN BREADCRUMBS......heres some backstory some lore its incomplete but yeah take what i have :)

COMPREHENSIVE ANDROID AU

Cars and Drivers essentially have a symbiotic relationship, the cars have been designed to require an android pilot, with their power units/batteries being linked into one another. While traditional safety concerns are not something to worry about, this link between the electronics of the car and the driver means that malfunctions and damage to the car can result in technical damage to the driver. For example, if the car's own power systems begin failing, it may begin leech too much power from its driver, spreading battery life too thinly and causing shutdown for them both. Plugging into the car essentially puts the driver into a hyper-powered state, the car becoming an extension of their body.

Drivers can accrue damage of course, and like with cars there is a limited amount of replacement parts allowed each season, with penalties being doled out if breached.

F100 models are the standard approved android for F1 Racing, replacing the previous F01 models in 2015. The androids themselves are developed by independent manufacturers, each offering specific strengths, focuses, and technologies- teams themselves are forbidden from android manufacturing, ensuring that there is still competition and markets for drivers. The main challenge for teams is to develop cars and software, and then finding android drivers most compatible with their teams systems.

When a team secures a driver, they are fitted with a new head component that visually denotes them as part of that team and also holds/runs any team specific programming, and is responsible for the main compatibility with the car. Android drivers physically cannot pilot other teams cars unless the corresponding head unit is installed.

Androids hold little personal autonomy in this world, and typically have lives very controlled by their teams, as they are as much of an asset as the cars. This may vary depending on manufacturer and team attitude/culture, with some allowing for more freedom of expression and relative "personhood" of their android drivers, but undoubtedly still will maintain a great deal of control.

LETS GET INTO THE DRIVERSSS

Charles: F100-R18 Model by Leclerc Engineering, running CL16 / A charming and quick model, it is rumored that his core programming, processing, and body itself were secretly developed by Ferrari associates rather than fully by an independent manufacturer. This has led to a bit of drama surrounding him, with people questioning the team's involvement in building an android from scratch specifically to drive their cars, but his success has not been dominant enough for people to make too much of a fuss. There has been very little data showing if Charles is compatible with non-ferrari tech, one of the few things that would disprove the rumors around him, but the team shows no signs of trying to part with him any time soon.

Carlos: F100-R15 Model by Sainz Company running CS55 / A unique model of the F100, developed off of the Sainz Company's highly successful RA7-CS model, developed for Rally driving. The RA7 was re-engineered to match specs of the standard F100, while retaining durability and adaptability aspects the RA7 was made famous for. A unique model on the track, he has faced constant skepticism for not being as well optimized.

Lance: F100-R17 Model by Lawrence Stroll, running LS18 / In contrast to other racing androids, Lance was developed with many components more traditional to companion androids, and is treated like a son by his developer, Lawrence Stroll. When not driving, Lance lives a very human life, and is the apple of his creator's eye, garnering them both criticism over Lance's belonging in such a cutthroat sport. He also faces similar scrutiny to Charles, in that Stroll owns the racing team, as well as individually developing driving androids. He continues to state that Lance was developed first as a son, only second as a racing driver, and his model has shown compatibility with other teams cars.

Fernando: F01-R02.WDC Model by FA Alonso Kart & Sports, running FA14 / An otherwise defunct model, Fernando is still running despite it all. New softwares that he should not be compatible with, upgraded parts that should not fit, he somehow manages to make work, and deliver consistent results.

This can be credited to a massive electronic overload during a crash in 2015, in which he suffered a complete system malfunction. He appeared to just need a reboot and recalibration, but the incident unknowingly released previously encrypted team information into Fernando's memory and bypassed/disarmed a number of obsolescence measures that had been placed on his model, allowing his internal AI and adaptive systems to essentially run free.

Logan: F100-R23 Model by Sergeant Manufacturing, running LS2 / The only American made model on the grid, which has faced some scrutiny, as the crossover from American motorsports to International has not yet been the smoothest. A very new and untested model as well, approved for F1 in 2023, he has not proven to be the most compatible with the current Williams car, frequently facing technical issues.

Oscar: F100-R23 Model by Webber Technologies, running OP81 / Oscar's model was developed under the Australian manufacturer Webber Technologies, basing his internal systems off their previously successful F01-R02. He faced controversy when entering the Mclaren team, as Webber Technologies had a long term testing deal with Alpine while developing their F100 and his accompanying OP81 programming. While it is insisted that procedures were properly followed when erasing proprietary Alpine information from the OP81 program, some are suspicious due to his high level of success upon entering the Mclaren. Some theorize something else entirely, that Webber had been secretly testing Mclaren software in the OP81 system for much longer than anticipated, and optimizing the android for their car specifically prior to signing.

[ot3]

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere: Poignant, Mind-Bending Sci-Fi Yuri at its Finest

I went and wrote a review for the Flower that Bloomed Nowhere covering the 5 categories Royal Road requires for it's advanced reviews: Overall, Story, Style, Character, and Grammar. I figured I would crosspost it here as a sort of companion piece to my Flower rec post. If you haven't read Flower, give this a once-over and see if it might interest you. If you have, please consider leaving your own review over on Royal Road to help give the story the glowing reputation it deserves.

This review contains no spoilers.

Overall:

Flower accomplishes what I believe is necessary for all great sci fi to accomplish; it provides a world that feels real and prescient enough for its political and philosophical questions to be meaningful and compelling, without just being a futuristic re-skin of contemporary conflicts. Additionally, it manages for its character-driven storytelling and its complex worldbuilding to compliment and reinforce each other. The character writing feels deeply informed and enriched by the story's political context, and the political context is woven in to the story in this matter rather than running parallel to the murder mystery. It's all inseparable.  Additionally, Flower wears its influences on its sleeve without sacrificing any of its unique identity. It skillfully pulls from its sources without being derivative of them, and truly synthesizes the ideas its working with into something new and bold. It is an unflinching work, that categorically refuses settling on any easy answers to its own questions.

Story:

Flower is a mystery story, and it is exacting and thorough about providing a breadcrumb trail for the more theory-minded red string Pepe Silvia types among its reader base. If you, like me, aren't much of a mystery buff and have no interest in solving the mystery yourself, there's still more than enough compelling stuff happening in the story outside of that context that you can enjoy letting Flower take you on its ride. To me, Flower is about getting to watch the complexities of Su and Ran's relationship unfold alongside the political and philosophical complexities of the world they live in. It weaves a compelling yarn about mortality, and what the consequences are of a desire to live without the corresponding means. Its ruminations on death run the gauntlet from brutally cavalier depictions of suicide to existential machinations that attempt to claw all of mankind away from the inevitability of an end.

Flower is slow. This may be a turnoff for some people, but the time it takes is clearly deliberate and does not feel wasted. The parts where I was least engrossed were the parts that were more bogged down in the murder details, but considering this is a murder mystery that sells itself as such, it would be insane of me to criticize it for including genre conventions I'm just not personally fond of. Fork spotted in kitchen, etc. Despite being slow, it is not poorly paced. New revelations about the characters, setting, and underlying mystery are drip-fed to the readership consistently enough that reading feels rewarding. You're not left with the impression that the narrative is detrimentally withholding information in order to artificially encourage continued readership.

Style:

We spend the vast majority of Flower on the receiving end of first-person narration from our protagonist Su. First person can be difficult to pull off, but Lurina nails it here. There's an intimacy and vulnerability to Su's narration as we see all of her worst traits on full display, with the truth of her actions and their motivation trickling in as we begin to peel back the layers of her character. But there's still room for deception, if not dishonesty, in Su's narrative. Very in line with the way Flower questions our ability to ever know another person. It reminds me a lot of how the same subject is explored in Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint which has similarly effective use of first person albeit in a strikingly different context.

This all to say that the style is perfectly fitted to what the narrative is trying to accomplish. Su's narration is suitably pessimistic, deeply prone to navel-gazing, and often judgemental. The biggest stylistic issue I tend to see with first person is when the more descriptive parts stop feeling like a character's own observation and analyses, really jarring you out of their headspace, but every bit of exposition we get throughout the course of the story is so painfully Su. It's a delight to read.

Character:

Oh man is the character stuff here fantastic. Su is Harry DuBois for girls who realized they were lesbians in middle school. No, but seriously Flower is definitely up there alongside Disco Elysium in terms of portrayal of mental illness that have personally resonated with me. On top of Su herself being a peak insane woman in fiction, Ran, Su's best friend by circumstance and right hand man in their personal quest is a fascinating character in her own right. Slowly peeling back the layers of their relationship and beginning to understand what the dynamic between the two actually is has been my favorite part of reading Flower and it's definitely some of my favorite character writing of all time. Flower's supporting cast is an absolute blast as well. Lurina does a great job of writing characters who I almost definitely would not want to hang out with but nonetheless love reading about. The characters don't fall into stale archetypes and instead have enough little details and quirks that make them feel plenty human.

Grammar:

The finicky technical bits of writing rank really low on what I care about in a story unless there's a particularly egregious amount of errors. Flower has some typos and grammatical issues, but with a work of this size that updates regularly and doesn't have the privilege of professional editing services, I think it'd be pretty unrealistic and unfair to expect it to be typo free. None of it has ever impeded my ability to understand or enjoy what's happening in the text, which is really the only standard I hold self-published/ongoing works to in this regard. 

TL;DR:

Flower is good and you should read it if you like insane women or when characters take a break in the middle of someone trying to murder them so they can have an impromptu political debate.

[tianasimstreehouse]

Chicken Schnitzels

Mmm... chicken coated in breadcrumbs and served with a wedge of lemon. Delicious!

*REQUIRES the latest version of my TianaSims Cookbook to work*

Skill Level: 5 (Homestyle)

Available sizes: Family, Party, Single

Category: Meals

Ingredients: Wrapped White Meat, Any Herb

Dietary: Lactose Free

DOWNLOAD (Patreon): Chicken Schnitzels Milk and Cookies: Now! Sugar Cookies: 18th Feb Public: 25th Feb

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

[tosses words like breadcrumbs out for the birds]

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @umbracirrus @bostoniangirl21 @skyrim-forever

@hircines-hunter @theoneandonlysemla @vivifriend @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @throughtrialbyfire

@tallmatcha @ladytanithia

With that, he disappears towards the end of the line just as Ulfric had asked, and the king only stares after him, fist clenched tightly as his wife tries to pry it open and check it. “It will heal with time, my heart. I don’t require your magic at the moment. Please save it for something more worthy of your time than this.” He then offers his other hand to her as they continue on their way towards the Karth River canyon.

None dare to so much as sneeze as the air lies charged thickly over them. It would seem that the season unending has begun to show her cruel hand, and it is not common that many leave her clutches unscathed.

As they march every so often Dahlia looks back almost as if thinking to go Galmar, but Ulfric keeps his hand tightly-laced in her own. She sighs and rolls her shoulders back. While she has experienced tensions run high, she had never expected them to come between the two old brothers. Their blood runs thicker than water, even as it begins to dry underneath Galmar’s nose. Eventually everything will work out. It has to.

She bites her lip, holding her tongue, and looks up at the jagged peaks surrounding them. Dangers would appear to surround them from all angles. It is only logical that one would become claustrophobic and lash out. They have all been fighting for their lives for so long, and so who is she to blame Galmar for wanting a taste of freedom—to be able to take a simple breath unhindered? A small part of her feels responsible for that. He was not built for the subtleties of diplomacy.

“Why do you all look as if someone has pissed in your mead?” A familiar voice calls out to them from the bridge ahead. Ralof walks towards them, a bright smile on his sunny countenance, and it is hard for Dahlia not to try to match it.