#P: Actions

[bellemaledictions]

Where: Dinning Hall Tag: Open

The fourth necromancer whistled as she gazed upwards. More greenery than she'd ever seen trying desperately to claw its way through the dinning room roof, leaves drifting lazily into the nets as birds flitted from branch to branch… Birds were new, well newish. It wasn't like the concept of them was totally new, but few enough of the planets she'd been stationed on had much wild life to speak of. And frankly she'd never had the time to really stop and pick up ornithology… Maybe she ought to…

Or maybe she should have been exploring the rest of Canaan house, some of the others had already split off to do so. Philly was pretty used to things being go go go. Would it really hurt to just take in the scenery?

Yes, yes it would. Only a moment after she'd had that thought she felt herself growing restless so the necromancer picked herself up and glanced around. Her cav was off... Somewhere, and the last thing she wanted was to explore the house completely by herself. So she'd grab the nearest person and drag them along. Not literally. Instead uttering a cheeky "C'mon" before, not waiting for a response, picking a door and walking through it. It wasn't like any of them knew what they were looking for anyways… Right?

[a-very-tired-jew]

The act of promising to send back a person's corpse and then switching it out with an unidentified person as an act of psychological torture is something I've only seen from my worst cases as a forensic scientist.

I've seen it from organized crime outfits, typically Russian mob and cartels, and from serial killers. This reminds me more of the latter rather than the former as the outfits tend to behave in a certain manner and abide by various rules. Serial killers, however, often delight in the psychological torture of their victims, victims' family, and community.

There's a number of cases I've been brought in on to help ID corpses that were not who the killer said they were. Causing pain and anguish for the families and community to their delight.

In this instance, making a big show of returning these hostages and then pulling the rug out from underneath Israel and the greater Jewish community only serves one purpose; to cause psychological and emotional harm. And make no mistake, the people justifying Hamas and their actions up until this moment and beyond are acting like every True Crime Serial Killer Girlie that has come up to me in my career to try and justify the actions of people like Dahmer, Gacy, Gein, and so on. "They're just misunderstood." "What did you think they would do? They had a rough life. It's not their fault they did these things." "They're just fighting back against the system that made them this way." All of this is to take the onus of responsibility off of the serial killer, just as all these anti-Israel activists take the onus off of Hamas and its violent terrorism. And just like a True Crime Girlie coming up to me with their binder full of notes about why their serial killer blorbo is good, your opinion that Hamas is somehow justified in their action is worth nothing. You've presented yourself as lacking the moral and ethical stand point that condemns such actions as taking families hostage, promising to return them, and then pulling a "switcheroo" last minute to be cruel. You're not good people, and no amount of mental gymnastics to somehow blame Israel for this will make you a good person. And if somehow you're a fellow Jew? Well, I think you've burned every bridge with the community as of this moment.

[bellemaledictions]

"That last part tends to lose its luster." It was more muttered to herself than Althaea, not eager to kill the mood. And Philly was more than eager to let the conversation move on. "Stunning, when you're not being practically knocked over by wind." Not that she'd admired it until she'd learned what other planets looked like, and then she missed it. Extreme temperatures and being carried off by a stiff breeze included. It had been the thing she'd written her first poem about. "We'd always talked about seeing The Library." Euphemia in particular had always wanted to visit... Okay yep, moving on! Philly had always been quite social, though she often self conscious about her less than stellar decorum when it came to people she had learned it was often easiest to just go for it. If she could be counted on for one thing, it was that. "Can't hurt." With a shrug and a smile she spun to face further inland, marching down the pier towards the nearest robbed individual. (Was this one Teacher? She really should have been paying more attention.) "Excuse me, we were hoping to asking how old the house is?" Things were busy and maybe they'd not even get a response, or maybe they'd be thrown into the water for daring to even ask, who knew?

“Ah, the best part of being in the Cohort. See new places, meet new people, occasionally get involved in trench warfare.” It had been a welcome surprise to see Philly again— unexpected, but there was something about seeing a familiar place on an unfamiliar planet that soothed them. The Fourth House has always soothed her, far too calm and kind in the face of tragedy. In the crucible of space, they'd run amuck in the stars— and now again on the green of the First House. “I admit, I have always admired the Fourth, the skyline must be stunning. I didn't experience a sunset until I left the Sixth.”

“Maybe—? Architectural integrity is not a strong suit of mine... but the structures seem well-built, I can't imagine that decay only occurred over a myriad. Frustratingly, most of the pre-Resurrection knowledge is cultural, not structural,” Althaea paused for a second, a hum. Their head tilts slightly, looking toward the ruins again for a moment, the crumbling and decaying cities that once layered the land. “I... we could try? Worst case, Teacher just brushes us off or says no. It could be worth a try— if you want?”

[nexttimeisnotthesame]

Dou Zhao's grandmother: "He didn't ask His Majesty for a decree for himself but he asked one for you. He could've asked His Majesty to grant him your hand in marriage, but instead, he only asked for your freedom to choose. That shows just how genuinely he cares for you."

[screwpinecaprice]

Conni doodl (We never get to see adult Conns getting some sword action. 😞)

Might clean up someday(?)

[midnightshindig]

So I'm not sure if your requests are open, so feel free to ignore this

Could I have a magical girl reader with nolan? You know those memes where the most powerful thing in media is friendship, so why not have the embodiment of friendship take revenge for her friends

Like maybe they were even buddy buddy themselves

You can decide if this is like a romantic type setting or not, along with if she kills him or not

Nolan & Magical Girl! Reader

since magical girls are usuaully (although NOT always!!) High schoolers, I decided it would be a conflict of interest for there to be romance, but dw I gotchu!

I just watched the pilot for "I dont' want to be a magical girl" (GOOOOO watch it if you haven't the VA is hilarious and the animatic is so good and comedy is punctual as hell) so that might influence this a little

hcs under the cut!

"Nolaaannnn!!" You come barreling at him, tackling him into a hug

You're older than your title would suggest, being in your mid twenties by now

but you've been doing this magical girl shit since you were fourteen, so don't underestimate you!

Either way, this prlongued career introduced you to Nolan, the batman to your sailor moon

It's giving "I think we have to kill this guy, Y/n." "Aw shucks...."

This has been the dynamic of your friendship for the last five or so years, meeting through a kaiju battle on the sea bordering Japan.

Since then the two of you regularly team up when he's in your part of the world

He won't lie, he finds your bright and bubbly nature charming

plus I mean come on, Magic Magic Starship beam? hilarious.

Your magic comes from a magical mascot and its all super cute and whatever

Nolan doesn't like it

and it doesn't like Nolan.

And it won't tell you why it doesn't like Nolan, just that he seems too familiar

But who cares!! You two have fun, he's a good fighter, plus, you're pretty sure you're breaking through to him

"Power of friendship? That's where your power comes from?" He asks incredulously, taking a bite of his burger as the two of you fly around Japan

"Mmmhm!" You beam back at him "I know it sounds corny, but it's true. The power generated due to human connection and community is what gives me my abilities. It's a very powerful thing, you know, friendship." You took a sip of your milkshake, shifting to be flying on your back lazily "I think our friendship is my favorite, though."

Nolan coughed "us? Friends? I'm sorry Y/n but I don't have friends."

"Ugh this again- Omniman come onnnnn you and me are best buds! Get over yourself and let me love youuuu" You tease, squishing your cheeks together dramatically

Nolan rolls his eyes, finishing of his burger and dropping the wrapper into the sky "Race you to Shibuya? I'm picking up Sushi for my wife for dinner, special request, she likes a restaurant there."

You roll your eyes back, with a smile "Yeaahhhh sure, but if I win you have to buy me some too!!"

He grins, knowing it won't happen "Okay- Go!"

You've already started, but It won't matter

he's stronger and faster than you'll ever be

This doesn't matter much, though, and you keep fighting together

culminating in one particular fight with a particularly evil space princess

"Oh god not this bitch..." you mutter under your breath, before tightening your grip on your magic wand

"Friend of yours?" Nolan asks, approaching from the other side of the world "I was in the area" he lies

you can tell, but choose not to say anything

"Yeah, she's like convinced she'd my sister and wants me to help her take over the Earth."

Nolan's ears prick up at this

Take over the Earth?

Not on his watch.

He allows you to fight the woman for an extended period of time, staying benched until it appears the woman might kill you

"It was good knowing you, Y/n. I wish you could've joined my side..." her own magical beam charges, aimed at your head

and Nolan panics a little

He could easily kill her after she kills you

it would save him the effort of having to kill you himself later

but the pang in his heart won't let him, and before he knows it, he's got the space princess by the throat, flying so fast he breaks the sound barrier into space

Once out of earshot, he pulls the princess close "The Earth isn't yours to conquer. And if you ever come back, or lay your hands on Y/n again, I will fucking kill you and your entire people."

He returns to Earth to check on you, finding you right where he left you

"Awwwww you big sap, you worried about me!" You beam up at him, as he carries you to a hospital

"Of course not, don't be silly."

"Oh cmonnnnn we're friends after all!"

He sighs a deep, reluctant sigh "Yeah, okay. You're right, I'm your friend."

"and I'm yourrsssssssss" You grinned, loopy from the pain

"Yeah... sure." Nolan relented "I'm your friend."

It's a couple years later, and you're pushing twenty eight when Nolan tries to take over the world

You'd been retired for a year or two at this point, but how could you sit at home and watch this happen?

Ugh- you'd even need the support of your old teammates, who you called frantically

thankfully, they saw the news and had the same idea

So a five person magical girl group of late 20's women go to help Mark as they make their way to the scene of the fight

Well it doesn't matter because Nolan CRASHES right into your crew, Mark under him as the two fight

"Okay ladies, lend me your strength!"

"Wait, Y/n did we just come here so you can power u-"

"YES MEI NOW LEND ME YOUR STRENGTH-!" You grit out with a smile

"okay, jesus...."

So you like smile magic princess baja blast the shit out of Nolan, which only serves to get his attention

"Y/n? What are you doing here? Get out of here!" He yelled, venom in his voice and blood (not his own) dripping off of his face and fists

"Not until you stop being an asshole, Omniman!"

"IM SERIOUS Y/N GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE."

You glared at him "IM serious, stop now."

He stood up, holding Mark down with his foot as he faced you "You don't want to do this."

He wasn't leaving you much of a choice "You're right," tears welled in your eyes "I don't."

Taking your magical wand in your hands, you began to twirl it, the girls on your team recognizing the move with deadly perception. You'd only used it once.

The air around you began to swirl into a vortex, the girls on your team funneling behind you to avoid the blast

You could only hope it missed the boy.

"I CAST: MAGIC OF FRIENDSHIP-"

(god Idk how to write action bear with me)

and it NUKES The guy.

NUUUUUUKES THE GUY

Nolan? Dead. BONES.

You descend to ground level, pulling the-- thankfully alive-- Mark from the rubble

"Hey- thank you. Uhm.... fuck..." Mark is bloody and bruised and barely able to talk, close to passing out

you pull Mark up, carrying him like how Nolan carried you, to the hospital.

It's a bittersweet memory...

I guess you weren't friends after all.

[bennetsbonnet]

Much has been made of Mr Darcy's "confession" to Elizabeth that he does not converse easily with strangers. It is repeatedly used to support neurodivergent interpretations of his character. And I suppose that when taken at face value, a character confessing that they do not easily converse with strangers and struggle to catch their tone or appear interested in conversation can absolutely scream AUTISM! (I say as an autistic person myself)

But this line is often taken in isolation. When considered in terms of the passage in which it appears in Chapter 31, it appears far less of a smoking gun than may initially be suspected. After some discussion about Elizabeth and Darcy's prior acquaintance in Hertfordshire, Colonel Fitzwilliam asks Elizabeth for information about Darcy's behaviour there. She readily supplies it:

'Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,' cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.' 'You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.' 'I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.'

What Darcy leaves out here is that it was he himself who chose not to be introduced to anybody. As we learn from the description of his behaviour at the Meryton assembly in Chapter 3:

Mr Darcy danced only once with Mrs Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.

Anyway, Elizabeth correctly does not buy his excuses. Not only does she respond with a cutting sarcastic remark, but she tries to bring the discussion with an end by speaking to Colonel Fitzwilliam:

'True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.'

But Darcy does not get the hint and continues conversing with Elizabeth rather than quitting while he's ahead. However, I don't believe him to be missing a social cue here. Rather, this is an exceedingly conceited man who cannot conceive that anyone would not want to speak to such a Superior Being as he and more-so, is determined to defend himself from a perceived slight against his impeccable character.

Then we come to the passage containing the oft-cited line which allegedly contains proof of his neurodivergency:

'Perhaps,' said Darcy, 'I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.' 'Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?' said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?' 'I can answer your question,' said Fitzwilliam, 'without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.'

Once again, Elizabeth does not buy his excuse for even a single second. She's fully aware of all the advantages a man such as he will have received in society (opportunities not open to women, might I add!) and draws attention to that fact. It's a brilliant, cutting line from her and she really set that one up for Colonel Fitzwilliam to deliver the knockout blow.

Not only do we have the testimony of Mr Darcy's cousin, that 'he will not give himself the trouble,' to appear cordial to strangers, but we have evidence from Wickham too. Although after this statement, Wickham quickly goes onto misrepresent Darcy's kindness to the poor, which contradicts Mrs Reynold's later testimony, I do believe Wickham to be telling the truth (for once!) here, when he tells Elizabeth in Chapter 16:

'Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while.'

Which, again, demonstrates that Darcy is capable when he wants to be. That is the crucial point. Autistic people fundamentally lack the ability to understand social cues, they cannot turn it on and off as they please because they are snobs.

So, now we come to the infamous line about Darcy's supposed social struggles, and I hope that I've provided enough context to the line to make you see that it should not be taken at face value:

'I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,' said Darcy, 'of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.' 'My fingers,' said Elizabeth, 'do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.'

Again, Elizabeth is not buying his excuses for even a single second and tells him if he feels like that, maybe he should put the effort in. She has seen him in numerous social settings and been thoroughly unimpressed with his behaviour which, when you consider his rudeness to her at the Meryton assembly, she has every right to be.

So, what do I make of the line?

Well, I think it's abundantly clear that Darcy absolutely can speak to people when he wants to. Perhaps, in his mind, he struggles to make that deeper connection and make friends easily. But making friends is not always easy, it's a process you must invest time and effort into. If you do not do that, it stands to reason that you will struggle. Plus, if you hold others to ridiculous standards (as Darcy does) without recognising and fixing the flaws within yourself, you're not going to have deep, lasting friendships.

While this quote may appear to be a moment of vulnerability where he does confess a fault of his, which is astounding given his pride, personally I do not think it was not a soul-searching exercise. It was to make Elizabeth stop grilling him. It was self-serving. Although, I don't think he's entirely lying. Darcy is veeeery careful with his words and though this statement is not considered and perhaps comes out rather abruptly, it doesn't necessarily follow that it isn't true. I can imagine that it is probably something he's felt for a while, yet it is a rather desperate attempt to defend himself from a woman who sees right through him.

I think perhaps Darcy does realise that he isn't as naturally gifted as other men he knows (such as Wickham, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley) when it comes to forming acquaintances. However, he looks outwards and turns that bitterness against the world rather than looking inwards, reflecting upon himself and improving his manners which would be the correct thing to do. Thankfully, he later does this, but it took him twenty eight years...

In addition, Darcy appeared to have been under the illusion that he could coast by on Pemberley's reputation... which has always worked... until he met Elizabeth. For perhaps the first time, he encounters a woman who is not awestruck by him and his reputation and delivers the rebuke that he always needed.

So, while personally I'm inclined to believe there is some truth to his statement, as Mr Darcy is many things but he isn't a liar, I think it is said in desperation. His feeling stems from him knowing what he should do, but he can't be bothered to enact it... rather than any inherent social deficiency stemming from being neurodivergent.

Although, even if he does struggle socially, it's still no excuse for the rudeness he displayed to Elizabeth! My main issue with neurodivergent readings of Darcy is when they are deployed to defend his behaviour, when they attribute his rudeness to any potential neurodivergency and when they excuse his laziness. That is an awful message! Autistic people who struggle with social cues often do not, nor should they, go around insulting others. They should and often do put plenty of effort into being considerate and polite. In fact, I think, if anything, a love of rules makes us more likely to have good manners, rather than the reverse.

Ultimately, I'm not sure this line makes Mr Darcy the sympathetic-poor-sweet-innocent-shy-boy-autistic-representation that people want him to be. In fact it makes him look even worse, if anything. On matters such as these, he is every inch the conceited proud man he was widely believed to be at the Meryton assembly. Luckily, Elizabeth is an incredibly smart woman, who doesn't fall for it and immediately calls him out on his behaviour in a way that he has never experienced before. As she should!

[hyakunana]

The Black Rabbit Brotherhood

[gebo4482]

Lies of P by rugi rugi #1

[bellemaledictions]

Where: Lower Floor Hallway Tag: Private Who: Mercurio Chaur (@killingofadeer)

Some days were harder than others. Philophrosyne Tettares sometimes felt like a ghost wandering these unfamiliar halls, drifting more than moving. The first few days had been easier, the excitement, the novelty of it all. A pool! When had she last seen a pool? And one they could actually use no less!

But as the newness settled into familiarity it became less useful as distractions. Now sometimes she'd round a corner and only be struck by how much she wished she could have shown Euphemia. The birds that flitted above their heads at meal time. The truly singular skeletons. The sea. So instead she tried to share that enthusiasm with Rio. Asking if he'd ever seen such colourful fauna before? Had they ever learned to swim? Whether they sometimes missed the colours their sky had turned at sunset… That was a weird one to be hung up on. But beautiful as the pinks and oranges of this blue sky were at times, sometimes she just missed the simple fading of the light, yellow sky turning slowly to grey. She'd missed it since her first deployment but now it felt like an ache in her chest. She missed simplicity…

She missed feeling connected. Philly had been trying, no one could accuse her otherwise that's for sure. But even with all her effort she missed simply knowing another person. Knowing them inside and out. She'd never felt like an individual, apart from Euphemia, she didn't have to guess how she'd have reacted to things at Canaan house. She just knew. But now she watched her Cavalier, carefully observing how he responded to things. Trying to find some way to regain that feeling of knowing someone. Really knowing them.

"There's no way this could be original right?" Philly ran a hand delicately over the short fibers of a tapestry. "This place is at least," she counted in her head, "several thousands of years old." Counting had never been her strong suit. "Parts of Canaan house are crumbling practically to dust. And yet others are, well not new, but remarkably preserved." The pair had made their way onto one of the lower levels, working slowly through the floors. She hated the not knowing what they were looking for, just… Looking. So they often stopped, spending time with anything that caught her eye, never knew when she was about to pull on a book and discover a hidden staircase behind a shelf! That hadn't happened, yet… But she also tried to notice if anything caught Rio's attention. They were both strangers here and despite struggling to feel as connected to him as she had Euphemia being on the front line with someone did things.

She trusted their judgement, their wits. He sometimes saw things she didn't. She'd learned to trust that.

[tea-tuesday]

07/01/2024

a month left and i'm not panicking (i am)...! sorry to juxtapose beautiful flowers with a cursed picture of memorizing crim at like 3 am lmao. hope everyone's having a lovely summer and good luck to those who are also studying over the summer ! summer study squad🌞📚, let's go!!! may we be blessed with good grades, passing scores, and a stress-free autumn🙏

[a-very-tired-jew]

Something that has been rattling around in my brain since Oct 7th and the responses afterwards (and, let's be honest, I've been mulling over cause of work foe years due to true crime girlies) is that I don't think the majority of the public understands how criminal and terrorist outfits actually function.

It comes across as if the majority of people just imagine some hypothetical caricature of a person sitting in their lair doing "evil villain" fingers and going "Oh, I'm going to be so naughty today and do so much terror and crime" when that's not the case.

These are sophisticated organizations that have existed for decades with their own infrastructures and support staff. These outfits have personnel that run the gambit from IT to soldiers to doctors to management to press and so on. Every single one of them can, at one point or another, become a soldier and fight, but none of them are one trick ponies.

No organization survives and thrives being made up of one type of thing. It takes a complex supportive infrastructure made of multiple roles to keep anything going. We see this with everything from businesses to charity orgs to militaries.

It just so happens that organized crime and terrorist groups work in the same manner, they just also happen to do, you know, violent criminal/terrorist activities.

Myself and my colleagues all have stories about cases involving criminal outfits where the defense was something along the lines of "I was just an IT guy!" or other "benign" sounding position. But the reality is that the IT guy is still part of the outfit, knows what is going on, has a specific role to benefit it, and can and will pick up a weapon and commit a violent act just like any other member if instructed to or in the opportune moment.

The inability of the anti-Israel activists to engage in this thought and rely upon the "but they were a doctor!" or "but they were press!" as if it's some sort of holy symbol that defends against the reality that the individual in question was part of or associated with the outfit either tells us they don't understand this concept or refuse to because it would undermine their position.

[sinnbaddie]

Personal tmnt iteration

[sanasanakun]

People try too hard to make Curly an active participant in Jimmy's abuse. Isn't the whole point that he's passive in everything Jimmy does? Abuse occurs because he actively doesn't do anything? Not to call someone out or be mean, but I saw a post saying Anya's ID being in Curly's locker at the beginning shows that he intended to prevent Anya from filing an HR report and I disagree. I get where that interpretation is coming from, but I think it's a little uncharitable. I don't like being too kind to Curly because he's like...a morally mid dude at best lol But if we're going by the HR report interpretation, I would say it's more likely he requested Anya's ID in order to file an HR report on her behalf. After all, the only way to contact Pony (that we see) is in the cockpit, he's the Captain, and Pony Express sucks bad so I wouldn't put it past them to only allow the Captain to use the communication device thing. As we see before, Curly is the only one able to use tools around the ship that you would think other employees could use (ex. Swansea should be able to use the axe if he's the repair guy. Idk why they'd need an ax but that falls under manual labor which Swansea is designated for as the mechanic/fixer dude. But it has to go through Curly). I never got the vibe that Curly moved to actively protect Jimmy. He just lets things happen without say a word; Jimmy walks all over him, and by extension, the whole crew. I get why people would think that because he gives the whole "Hey Jimmy, we can get through this together, bud" spiel right before the crash. This part interests me a lot because there's so many ways to interpret Curly's intentions there. My interpretation is that Curly is on autopilot mode. The responses seem so stilted in comparison to Jimmy's. Like it's the kind of thing Curly's said before again and again and again when Jimmy's gotten in trouble. However, as others previously pointed out, I don't think Curly ever dealt with Jimmy doing something this irredeemable. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just goes for the default "You've gotten through tough situations before. Work through it one step at a time." Like the response is lame af lol I think he was in shock; he was scared (and just so I can say it one more time: he's super lame).

Anyway, this is way longer than I intended and I've said things a billion people have already stated. But uhhh tldr the whole point of Curly's character is he's passive; he never acts. He just watches. Making him an active participant in the abuse by taking actions to cover for Jimmy (like preventing Anya from filing an HR report) defeats the purpose of his character. He's a bystander.

[maniacwatchestheworld]

I also like to think that even though we know that Perry the Platypus has a perfect understanding of English and that he can write and type perfectly adequately, that if given the option to write his thoughts down, he would still typically not use words. Perry the Platypus is a platypus/man of few words, and you know that he KNOWS how to commit to a bit! So I just think that it would be funny if when he's given the option of using his words, he still just... Doesn't!

So just saying. If he is texting, I say that he should almost exclusively use emoji and maybe an occasional emoticon! And if given a piece of paper to write his thoughts down on, he would instead draw pictures. He's given a piece of paper to explain something complex? He's still going to make the other person WORK to get it all and force them to play pictionary with him!!!

[bellemaledictions]

Canaan house was beautiful and yet so alien to the necromancer. Philophrosyne Tettares was more used to war torn buildings and while the house certainly wasn't any less crumbling it did so with less tell tale signs of explosives and more with age, which was among the many things that caught Philly's attention, or had earlier but was starting to feel less novel and more mundane. Progress had been frustratingly slow. If the others had figured the whole key ring thing out they weren't telling, which left Philly, someone who moved more via instinct than careful thought, floundering. Some fourth house heir she was. Moving through now familiar corridors Philly tried to see if there was anything she missed the last several times she'd walked them. Rounding a corner to a similarly familiar face. "Get anything out of them?" She'd yet to hear anything but the occasional rattle from the constructs, not even when she'd accosted one for a few minutes, trying to figure out exactly how they worked, their truly singular construction eluding her.

Crossing her arms for a moment she stewed on the idea. "Whoever made them would probably know... If we can figure out who that is." Maybe it was worth asking Teacher? For a reason she could not put her finger on she did not think he was their creator.

+++ closed starter for a comrade who understands too much ( @bellemaledictions )

with summer's strong, sun-warmed hands tracing the edges of canaan house, one could almost feel the ancient lands leaning into the golden heat, gripped and given in equal measure. the sounds of the ocean breaking on the rocks, calloused from labor and abandon, echoed through the marbled hallways of the fortress, an untended house that received birdsong as sustenance—as if a tall tale could sate an empty stomach.

and just as starved as the ruins were was the second necromancer.

since getting the key ring, aurelius had been determined to uncover what it all meant. their objectives were painfully obvious—to open some locked doors. but how? and where were those doors? the teacher had left them with only more questions and fewer answers.

after a couple of hours of walking the floors of numerous terraces, he called out to a nearby construct with a snap of his fingers. the necromancer spoke to it "look at this." non-blinking eyes turned to look at the empty key-ring on the palm of his open hand. if their objectives were so obvious, perhaps their methods should be as well. "if i were to look for keys that could fit into this ring, where should i look first?" he asked, just as he saw a familiar face approaching him from around the corner. he sent a sheepish grin her way as he greeted philly with a nod and then a shrug. "thought i'd try asking the locals."