#Polaris Reviews

[abybweisse]

Ch194 (p3), The four classes

Just like Weston, F.O.L. Orphanage is divided into four groups. Well... so are the "stars of protection" represented by the four "lords of the stars". And these classes are more like the blood groups.

Mastiff is basically for training butlers and stewards. The lord of the star/blood group for this one would be Polaris.

Corgis match up with Doll and whichever star she's representing (I'm still not sure Vega's and Canopus' rooms weren't accidentally switched in earlier chapters, but...), supposedly Canopus. That would make the Collies match to Layla/Al and apparently Vega. Notice that Collies learn domestic skills and martial arts.

These classes have completely different uniforms, and these match up to their lords and expected roles. Now we know the aptitudes are for all four blood types, not just Sirius. That means Finny and Snake didn't fall within the ABO blood grouping system. Likely because Snake is not just human, and Finny was definitely given injections of something to make him stronger; that might have included "gene therapy" from other animals, like gorilla, chimpanzee, or even a mixture of various species.

Pomeranian class is definitely for Sirius, but it's based more on our earl than real Ciel. More on that in the next post! But regardless of which twin is meant to be the focus, Pomeranians are treated like little lords. They dress like the twins, read the same books, learn foreign languages, and play games like chess. Notice one kid is even reading The Fenian Cycle!

It's interesting Pomeranians get their own rooms when they turn ten. Were our earl and real Ciel supposed to get separate bedrooms after their tenth birthday? Probably....

[ilovedthestars]

Ask game! 3, 26, 30

(2023 year in review fic writer asks)

Thanks Hummus!!

3. What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

Hmm...I've learned a lot about how the writing process works for me, how my inspiration ebbs and flows, how to push myself and get words out even when I'm not feeling inspired. And also when it's okay, and sometimes better for me, to take a break and not put pressure on myself to write more words.

26. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Oh, wow, thinking back, it might have to go to posting chapter one of Old Unit, Young Unit allllll the way back in January. I'd been working on the fic for months already for that point and it was so satisfying to get to the point where I could finally share it.

No, wait, I have a better answer--the two weeks after I read System Collapse, in which I posted not one, not two, not three, but four new works/updates to Ao3. I was just full of so much creative energy that I churned out an OU,YU chapter that I'd been stuck on for weeks, a meta about SC, a fic with a missing scene from SC, and a follow-up to An Unexpected Quarter, a year-old oneshot that I was inspired/encouraged to revisit by a really lovely comment from @whirlpoolleaf. That last one was particularly satisfying. It was so fun to feel so inspired and write so much in such a short period of time!

30. What’s something that you want to write in 2024?

There is SO much more in the Polaris universe I want to explore!! I'm dying to finish Old Unit, Young Unit, because once that fic is done I have many many more stories about these units. Aybee, Hope and Enigma haven't even appeared on Ao3 yet!!! And I'm fleshing out more side characters and spinoffs every day. Yuma and Crowbar have also been super exciting to me lately and they've got several spinoff stories that I'm working on (here's a sneak peak of one that I posted to Tumblr a little while back). It's OCs all the way down and I'm having a blast!

[filipmagnuswrites]

X-Factor Vol 01 by Leah Williams (2020)

Leah Williams delivers a captivating story of murder, investigation, and desperation through this X-Factor roster! Mutantkind has made a home for itself on the mutant island of Krakoa, where it has synthesized immortality through the abilities of five mutants. To get the process going, however, The Five need to have proof of death–this is where X-Factor comes in. That’s not how it begins,…

[betweenthelinesevents]

Patient Sixty-Seven

Need a new metalcore band to get into? Patient Sixty-Seven will be your go to from now on. While most artists skip Perth on their tours, this band makes us want to travel there just to see them! But don’t fret just yet because the band has announced they’ll be touring in April/May all around Australia and New Zealand. Patient Sixty-Seven have influences from heavy bands currently paving the way such as Polaris, In Hearts Wake and Blessthefall. They’ve also collaborated with some big names in the scene like Kellin Quinn, Rory Rodriguez and Outline in Color. Patient Sixty-Seven’s debut album ‘Wishful Thinking’ delivers us a well put together collection of songs made with love. Vocalist Tom's favourite song off the album is ‘Scattered’. He said, “it encapsulates everything I love about our music, the meaning in the lyrics - the contrast of the heavy moments and melodic elements”. The album explores themes of toxic relationships, self-doubt, inequality and soul searching. Patient Sixty-Seven has a lot of pride for this album and hopes it can connect with many people. The band used the pandemic wisely, focusing on gaining a following online and they’ve done this successfully. They not only showcase their music on their social media but we get a real sense of how charismatic they are through comedic posts, content that breaks stereotypes and many fantastically executed punk goes pop style covers. You can tell that Patient Sixty-Seven are passionate about music and all the different layers of the scene. They’re happy they can do what they love and hope to share their music with the world. Even if you’ve never said ‘Rawr XD’ or ‘blegh’ in your life, you can only expect big things from Patient Sixty-Seven from here. Connect with Patient Sixty-Seven: Website: https://patientsixtyseven.com/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/patient67band Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1wklENd4yCkEW1u0fkJR2c Twitter: https://twitter.com/Patient67band Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PatientSixtySeven YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@patientsixtyseven Unearthed: https://www.abc.net.au/triplejunearthed/artist/patient-sixty-seven/ Other: https://music.patientsixtyseven.com.au/Links 

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: JOVM Mainstay Elisapie Tackles Sheryl Crow's Smash-Hit "If It Makes You Happy"

New Video: JOVM Mainstay Elisapie Tackles Sheryl Crow's Smash-Hit "If It Makes You Happy" @Elisapie @bonsound @bonsoundpromo @girlieaction @delkin03 @SherylCrow

Acclaimed Montréal-based singer/songwriter, musician, actor and activist Elisapie was born and raised in Salluit, a small village in Nunavik, Québec’s northernmost region. In this extremely remote community, accessible only by plane, she was raised by an extended, yet slightly dysfunctional adoptive family. Growing up in Salluit, she lived through the loss of cousins who ended their lives,…

[natasharoldanmusic]

Ya No Estoy Aquí: Record Review by Roots Music Canada

CLICK HERE FOR THE FULL REVIEW

[album-a-day-project]

9/1/23

Polaris

Fatalism

====

Much more metalcore than I expected. The single 'Inhumane' is on alot of metal/metalcore playlists and something that I've heard for a while. A really long album, but songs are pretty impactful throughout. I keep forgetting that this band is from Australia...and reminds me a bit of the metal that I listened to in my early days. I don't think this is an album I'll listen to again, but still really good. I wonder why tho?

7/10

[xcerizex]

"raise your arms, strike a pose. your mask must be perfect, as perfect as a rose."

In which a simple stage play has more than just curtains hiding secrets.

(fem!summoner, gender neutral!polaris, sirius, angst, othello, character study(?), shenanigans, 7.4k words, lazy at the end)

"Tell me again why am I here?"

Spica narrows his eyes in clear disapproval. "If you are unsatisfied with the current arrangements, I can make it so that the one onstage is you instead."

"Yeah, not happening."

Alpheratz shakes his head in mild frustration and leans back with his arms crossed. The whole Guide Committee is currently stationed inside Contell's auditorium, assisting several other sorcerers for an upcoming play. Both Vega and Arcturus are off somewhere else helping with the props, while Spica reviews the paperwork in his hand.

Pollux? He's sleeping on the front row, probably tired from practicing his lines. Comically, there is a stack of items balancing atop of his head thanks to Alpheratz's magic–and boredom, creating an impressive show of magical dexterity. It's only at times like this does he ever use his magic for anything skillful, but Alpheratz himself begs to differ.

"It's not like they need all of us, roping in the whole committee is way too much and too unnecessary." The frown on his face is clear, speaking loudly of his disapproval–even if his mouth doesn't.

Spica continues his work heedless of Alpheratz's complaints, "The sorcerers are relying on us for their safety, it never hurts to take caution. Especially after recent events."

At those words, Alpheratz directs his stare to the girl on Pollux's left, silently reciting her lines in her head. She has taken the role of Othello's wife and diligently memorizes the dialogue of the whole play, not wanting to miss a single thing. It's only when she senses his gaze boring into her does she break free from her immersion, and finally glances up from the script she has been revising over the past hour.

"Don't look at me like that." She may not be a renowned multitasker, but she could still hear everything despite the razor focus on her lines–including Alpheratz's thoughts–and gives him a flat stare in return. "If you've got a problem, sleep it off."

He whistles at the dark bags under her eyes, she is clearly more cranky than usual. "Maybe I will, if only Spica would let me off early. I'm not sleeping with him here."

"Not a chance."

Spica's answer comes quick.

"I'm not even doing anything!"

That's true. Alpheratz and Spica were supposed to be in charge of the safety measures surrounding the stage, only for Spica to end up doing most of the work, leaving Alpheratz to his own devices.

The tower above Pollux's head sways as dangerously as ever.

Spica ignores him and returns to his work, but the Summoner is only a tad bit more sympathetic and gives him a troubled smile before returning to her lines. She would usually be more willing to help him out but her days of sleepless practice has gotten to her, leaving her in no mood to assist him and his lazy habits. Alpheratz thinks it's slightly unfair.

"Besides, you're working too hard." He tries his chance to get a way out of here. "Don't you think it's about time you took a break?"

"Nah."

At times like this, the Summoner resembles Spica's quick wit a little too much.

Alpheratz gives up immediately and slumps on his seat, "I didn't think you'd be so enthusiastic about this play. Did not expect that at all." He says this offhandedly, not expecting her to respond, but it's when he takes a closer at her, does he sees her staring at the stage.

Sirius is on that stage.

Out of the whole Guide Committee, only three of them have taken roles in the play. The Summoner as Othello's wife, Pollux as the Iago's wife, and Sirius...

Sirius is playing the role of Othello himself.

When the cast was announcement, nobody was surprised at Sirius' involvement. He was known for his love of theater, and even more so for his capricious attitude. No one batted an eye when it was announced he got the main role, and all Spica did was remind him to not neglect his duties.

Inspired, Pollux applied for the second round of auditions, and ended up getting stuck with one of the more unpopular roles. After some encouragement from Arcturus, Pollux accepted the role as Iago's wife, and consistently practices with a long skirt so that he won't fall down when the time comes he has to go onstage.

The play was mainly held as a way of uplifting the students' spirits after the various accidents that has happened over the last few weeks, starting off with that incident at the garden, to the entire fiasco at the gala.

What the entire Guide Committee hadn't expected however, is that the source of the chaos herself had also volunteered to act onstage. And as Desdemona no less.

"Well." After some time, the Summoner finally responds to Alpheratz's statement. "I was a theater kid before I came here. And while I would usually prefer becoming a part of the musical staff, I don't think it's too bad to change it up every once in a while."

She's still watching the stage.

"I'm very surprised though." Closing her script, she takes another good look at the cover. "I didn't expect the work of Othello to be here of all places."

Intrigued, Spica finally shows interest in something else that aren't the papers in his hand. "Did they have this in Mid Earthiem?"

"The story? Yes."

A soft snore interrupts them and they all watch with trepidation as Pollux stirs a little, the tower on his head wobbling precariously. The Summoner breathes an inward sigh of relief as Pollux goes back to sleep, and the tower becomes stable once more.

"It's a very upsetting story."

"I guess you're right."

The Summoner can't blame the frown on Alpheratz's face on his usual grumpiness - the story is indeed not a very happy one - and she returns back to staring at Sirius onstage.

"Don't you feel uncomfortable on having to perform with him of all people?"

The Summoner shrugs her shoulders, "Not really. Sirius may be a weirdo, but he's a great actor."

"That's not what I meant."

She knows it's not, but pretends not to know anyway.

Alpheratz finally decides to add another item to the tower on Pollux's head, and carefully levitates the script in Pollux's arms to balance it at the very top. It stays, and Spica silently marvels at the ability of bored, and the things they'd do to quell said boredom.

"May I suggest to you, Alpheratz, that you have yet to check the anti-combustion procedures for the curtains?"

Alpheratz starts to grumble, but the Summoner has already immersed herself in Sirius's rehearsal. She watches him grip the area over his heart - as if in agony - while lamenting about his wife's unfaithfulness. When a person is on stage, most can't see the expressions of the actors, which is why they have to resort to looking at their body language and right now, his shoulders are drawn tight and his stance tense, looking as if he might lunge at someone viciously should they draw his ire.

'I wonder how he got so good at acting.'

Both Spica and Alpheratz are still quarrelling, and in an attempt to get them to stop, she comes up with a rather intrusive thought. She faces Alpheratz with a look more serious than ever and regards the trembling tower on Pollux's head.

"What if I just toppled the thing myself?"

It's as they say, if you can't beat them, join them.

"You wouldn't f******* dare."

Everyone is promptly interrupted, as Pollux finally wakes up from his nap and tries to sit upright. The last thing they hear is Spica click his tongue, when the sudden disturbance of balance leaves the whole tower toppling over itself, giving Pollux a brutal wake-up call.

The sound of rushing water fills the kitchen as Sirius washes the dishes in the sink with an unusual atmosphere of homeliness. It's dark out, but the sight of the city past the windows is as bright as ever. Even at this time of the day, people are still moving about.

Finishing up, he places the last dish inside the cabinet, closing it with a small click. He takes his time surveying the rest of kitchen in hunt for any more things to clean up after, a habit he had formed ever since he started living here.

Once he's sure there aren't any undetected messes, he makes his way out from kitchen and walks into the living room. There is a little bit of impatience in his steps, as he walks a pace slightly faster than he usually would–if only to make his way back to his master sooner.

Entering the living room, he sees them holding an object in their hands with their back turned to him.

"What are you holding, Polaris?"

Sirius is curious about the book in his master's hands. Hearing him, Polaris turns around and regards him with a smile.

"It's a book from Mid Earthiem, having found its way through the wormholes no doubt. Would you like to read it together?"

"Um..."

Around this time, Sirius should be about 13-14 years old and is still considered young. He is at the age where spending time with one's guardian like this would be considered embarrassing among his peers, but he was never one to care about such things. The only reason he hesitates is because he's unsure if he would be able to enjoy the otherworldly story at all.

But time spent with his master is a rare thing, that's all it takes for him to agree.

"Yes, please."

The both of them seat themselves on the couch and Polaris begins to recite the story the way one would tell a bedtime tale to their child. Sirius is slightly embarrassed by being treated as such, but he doesn't mind it. His master's voice is soothing and calm, having the ability to soothe a child's tantrum, quell the chaos of masses, or just read a book. In this small world where only he and his master exists, he doesn't mind having to put up with the way Polaris treats him. Still, the story is interesting in its own way, and Sirius can't help but marvel at the literacy diversity between Bound Arlyn and Mid Earthiem.

However as the story continues on, the previously cozy and familial atmosphere between them turns into something more somber, as the story reaches its fevered climax. Desdemona's death.

"He did what now?!"

Sirius stands up in righteous anger. Polaris is neither startled nor disapproving of his outburst however, and simply regards him with a curious look in their eyes.

"Does it upset you that badly?"

Sirius is still quivering with rage, "I..."

He falls silent. Realizing how angry and loud he'd been, he quietly sits back down the couch.

"I'm sorry, Polaris."

All they do is simply chuckle. "Don't be. It's good to have such strong sense of morality, I'm quite happy about that actually." And they mean it, Sirius has mostly done nothing but follow Polaris' line of thinking ever since they took him in and rarely ever rebels. Having his own opinion meant that he was growing up well.

Sirius shakes his head. "It's not that Polaris." His gaze scatters across the room like fickle light.

"I just think that...if Othello had truly loved his wife, he wouldn't have killed her, much less hurt her at all."

Maybe he is a romanticist.

Polaris reaches out to ruffle his hair, and all Sirius can do is groan endearingly. His master continues to treat him like a dog, patting and smoothing his hair in pride, but Sirius does not mind the extra affection.

"That's a good mindset to have."

Polaris praises him, but the praise only leaves Sirius confused.

"What kind of mindset would that be, master?"

The Tower of Babilli looms outside the windows of their home. Ominous, oppressive, and promises a premonition of tragedy.

The hand that rests on his head is as warm as ever.

"The kind that would never hurt anyone they care for."

Sirius remembers the day Polaris announced that they would recommend Othello to be written down officially as a work of literature in Bound Arlyn. He remembers asking his master why, only to receive a cheeky, non-assuming answer in return.

"Because you liked it."

Sirius begged to differ at that time, but he didn't care enough to say anything.

Several years later in commemoration of Polaris' passing, they constructed a play based on the story of Othello, wishing to honour every and all of their contributions. The story has withstood the erosion of time even till now, becoming something that even sorcerers can enjoy casually should they find themselves in the fancy to go to the theater down town.

How disgusting, how flippant. When he sees the happy smiles on their faces, he feels as if he could kill them, kill himself.

A loud crash resounds across the room, as a vase falls off the nightstand and Sirius bangs his fists against the floor repeatedly. The broken shards have pierced the skin of his hand, but even as blood trickles down his palms and splatter across the floorboard, he does not care. This pain is nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

He lifts his head up to gaze at the Tower of Babilli through his window, and only the mirror will ever the see the pure look of despair, anger, and sorrow etched on his face like hard marble.

He has just lost the one important person in his life.

But Sirius refuses to believe that this is the end. No matter what it takes, even if he must become the devil himself, he will do whatever it takes to bring them back.

No matter what.

Rising unsteadily on to his feet, he faces in front of his mirror in what must have been ages for the first time. He sees the light coat of dust over the surface of the mirror, and his tear-stricken face.

He sees someone incredibly weak.

'That won't do.'

He stares at his reflection, asking what would it take, what must he do, and how he would have to change to achieve it. The pressure in which he looks at himself may crack the mirror, before it cracks himself. After a long, long time, he finds his answer. And when he does, he realizes that he's still staring at himself.

He tries smiling.

It looks fake.

His face immediately reverts back into a frustrated frown, before he forces himself to smile again.

Be more cunning.

It looks too forced, try again.

Be more natural.

Sirius tries thinking about his happier times, maybe the smile will look less fake.

Be less kind.

He puts a stop to that quickly, and tries again. Only this time, he makes sure not to make it look too sincere, in case people see him as a good person.

Be the villain.

He will play the role of the villain, if it means the hero can take the stage once more.

They do.

That night, the night after that, and many other countless nights, he will try again, again, and again to smile the way he needs to.

Later, his smile is just the way he wanted it to be.

But he can never smile the way he used to. To smile a smile filled with pure, unadulterated joy. No more, he can't. Not even if he wanted to.

In his eyes, it is a small price to pay.

But when he sees the girl step on that stage for the first time, Sirius can't help but feel his smile is more fake than ever.

'You were wrong, Polaris.'

He has already hurt her.

"Did they have the make the dress this fancy!?"

The Summoner covers her mouth to prevent herself from bursting out into the laughter. It helps only slightly, the broken huffs of warbled laughter only getting louder and louder the longer Pollux twirls around with his fancy new costume in agitation.

Fitted in a velvet dress, Pollux looks positively feminine. His usually short pink hair has grown longer–thanks to a potion brewed by the theater club–giving him the look of an elegant lady. Unfortunately, no magic found in any corner of Bound Arlyn could ever hope to cure his innate clumsiness, so all they can do is pray and hope he won't set anything on fire on set as he flails about.

"Stop moving so much."

The laces on the back swing frantically as Pollux moves about with similar energy and Vega comes up behind him in an attempt to grab him still by the shoulders. The sight makes the Summoner lose her composure unfortunately, and she starts guffawing.

"Is everyone ready?" A sorcerer from the theater club pokes his head into the dressing room to check on them. Seeing Pollux restrained by the arms judo style by Vega, she has to control the impulse to run away.

"Not yet, I still have to tie my hair up." The Summoner quickly resumes her preparations, but the sorcerer is understanding and simply nods her head.

"Alright, then. Once your ready quickly head backstage." Pollux is finally free from Vega's death grip, and straightens up to tidy his extensions before scrambling away.

"What am I, some kid's toy!?"

They hear Pollux shout at them as he runs out of the room and promptly disappears, probably to get ready for the stage. The Summoner stops laughing and turns her head towards Vega.

"Why'd you do that Vega?"

He shakes his head in exasperation, "He could've knocked something over something had he continued to panic. You know how prone he is to accidents."

The Summoner can't help but agree in her head.

Despite the fact that Sirius is nowhere to be found, no one is worried. Sure he comes and goes at unexpected intervals, has a severe lack of decorum, and tends to drop most of his duties at the drop of a hat, but they know that Sirius wouldn't miss out on the chance to enjoy himself, especially if it involves theater.

Which is why even as the clock ticks by, no sorcerers are worried enough to come looking for him, and if they did, it wouldn't be out of concern for him. Except for the Summoner herself.

He disappears often, yes. But she's still worried.

The Summoner is still struggling with her hair–not having had enough practice with old fashioned hair styles–and considers abandoning the entire updo to look for Sirius instead, until she hears a knock on the door.

"Oh? You're still here?"

Speak of the devil.

She secretly feels relieved at his appearance."Yeah. I just can't seem to..." She tugs at the end of the ribbon in an attempt to tighten her bun, only for it to all come undone miserably in one fell swoop.

"...get this right."

Silence fills the room and the Summoner silently curses at herself. Of all the things she had to be unprepared for, it was her hair.

"Don't worry too much about it. I'll get it, eventually." She raises her arms to the back of her head, ready to try again. The soreness of her arms from holding them up for so long–plus the combination of slight panic and frustration as the seconds pass by–clouds her senses, the reason why the sound of Sirius' footsteps coming closer does not register in her mind.

Which is why when she feels a cold hand grazing her wrists, she nearly yelps in surprise.

"The Summoner is quite careless, and not at all aware of her surroundings. What if someone wanted to kill you?"

His words are antagonistic, but his touch is somewhat gentle, elegant as he takes the ribbon from her and his fingers travel down to edge of her nape where her hair rests. Gathering a bunch of strands in his hands, he gets set to work.

"Your lucky it was me. So why not let me do your hair instead?"

She gives him a deadpan stare through the mirror, "You're already doing it anyways though, aren't you?"

He merely chuckles, and she heaves a sigh.

"Next time, I would prefer it if you'd asked me for my permission first before touching me." The Summoner's voice drips heavy with exasperation, but she doesn't oppose his touch and lets him carry on with him touching up her up-do.

His hands are surprisingly skilled, efficiently looping and weaving the fancy ribbon around her hair, gathering it up into an elegantly braided bun within minutes. The proximity between them makes her nervous though, and when his fingers lightly brush against her ears, she suppresses a shiver.

Her ears are very hot, Sirius thinks intrusively.

Soon, he is done. And the Summoner can't help but feel envious of his skills as she admires the product of his handiwork in the mirror.

"Maybe you should have been a hair stylist instead." She curls a stray lock of hair around her finger. "I'm sure you would have done well."

The Summoner hears him laugh. "Why thank you, Summoner. A strange compliment, but a compliment I'll take nonetheless. Ah, and one more thing."

Sirius pulls out a hairpin in the shape of a six pointed star adorned in aquamarine and silver from the lapels if his costume. It is elegantly crafted, with swirling patters and chiffon ruffles enhancing it's worth. Looking at it, the Summoner surmises that it must be very expensive.

It takes her too long to realize that Sirius has moved in even closer than before, and feels the stray locks if his hair brushing against her ears as he fixes the hairpin to the side of her bun. She bites down a scream, resisting the impulse to yell at the Constellations because who else could have possibly manifested this situation in a scenario much like some low-grade novel?

The Summoner thinks that this is about the most patience she has ever practiced within one day, believing she's the only one nervous here.

What should have been a mere few seconds feels like an eternity finally coming to an end when Sirius finally pulls back to admire his handiwork.

"Can I move now?" The Summoner wiggles her feet in impatience.

"No? I haven't stared at my genius for long enough in my opinion."

"Hahahaha." Her laughter is practically dripping with sarcasm.

He holds his hand out to her as she turns around anyway to give him a glare, and sees the ever-so-slight flicker of adoration in his eyes.

She thinks what she sees is but a mere phantom.

"Well then, shall we head on out my dear wife?"

The Summoner scrunches her face up, but plays along anyways and takes his hand, "Yes, we shall."

Perhaps if he'd called her "Desdemona" instead, she wouldn't have made that face.

Being near her like this–he thinks as he grasps her hand–all feels very unfamiliar. All very unlike him, his quips softer than usual, not as sharp or mocking, and the gaze that scans the entire audience in front of him filled with less spite. He thinks he's changing.

He's not sure if he likes it.

Finally ready, the both of them leave the dressing room and walk hand-in-hand in a fashion reminiscent to that of their roles–a general and his elegant wife–and leave the dressing room to the area directly behind the stage hidden by the swaths of curtains. Shortly after arriving, they see Pollux panting heavily in anxiety as Arcturus diligently does his best to calm him down by providing gentle blows of wind from his wand. It does not help much at all, but Pollux is too busy trapped in his thoughts to care. And when Arcturus sees the two of them approach, he brightens and calls out to them.

"There you guys are! The play was about to start so everyone was getting a bit worried."

"The only one truly worried here..." They notice Vega–who had been standing inconspicuously beside Arcturus throughout the whole time–indicate his head towards Pollux. "...is him. And the play doesn't start in about 15 minutes, sorcerer Arcturus."

The actors have gathered themselves in one spot, donned in costumes of glamor and glow, ready to take on the masks of a life unfamiliar to them with pride on the stage. Even Pollux, though nervous a minute ago, straightens his back to prepare himself for the performance in steady anticipation. Upon further inspection though, someone notices his feather hat askew and rushes forward to straighten it before the play starts.

Everyone is bustling with excitement, delighted at the chance on having to perform a story introduced by Polaris, and eagerly await the curtains to rise, not paying any attention to Pollux profusely apologizing to the sorcerer who had tried to straighten his hat, and who now sports a red nose.

Sirius feels the girl beside let go of his arm as the lights dim, and routinely stamps down the urge to reach back out to her. He clenches his fist, and loosens it before anyone else can see.

"Everyone take your positions!"

(Act 1, Scene 3) The confirmation of Desdemona's love:

The spotlight is bright, vastly different from the same types that the Summoner usually sees in Mid Earthiem. They are enchanting, mimicking shimmering starlight, making the whole play on stage look more captivating than ever. The glow of it all however, is not enough to have the actors themselves lie and deceive their own thoughts and feelings.

"But you tell us, Othello." A sorcerer dressed in formal garb inquires the man in front of him. "Did you poison this girl's feelings with devious and improper ways? Or did such a union between you both be happened upon free and appropriate ways among two people?

Sirius laughs a little bit on the inside, a place where nobody else can see. Asking himself secretly, "Which is it?"

What is his relationship with the Summoner?

Othello then raises his head high in self-confidence, with an assurance that one would consider mocking that of the man's words. "I beg of you, senator. Send someone for the lady and have her express herself in her words in front of her father. Should there be any indication of my foul practices, then feel free to not only to take away the trust in my position and title, but my life."

The character he plays speaks lines worthy of his noble character. Unlike his usual persona, Sirius displays a dignified general in image indeed. All his snarky aura and volatile demeanour have been carefully tucked away beneath his current mask like a bound rope.

Standing behind the curtains watching him - ready for her cue - the Summoner can't help but marvel at the accessories of deception in which he adorns himself with.

The sorcerer playing the role of the Duke gives a slight nod, perceptively conveying his desire for the truth. "Bring Desdemona here."

The bit-part actors on stage shuffle away to where the Summoner is. But both Othello and the sorcerer still have a few more lines to recite before she takes the stage. So as the actors linger about around her getting ready for the next part, she counts her breath by two beats in an attempt to calm herself down.

Even if it's not her first time performing in front of the audience, she still gets nervous.

"Desdemona loved listening too."

The lines are still rolling.

"Even if the frequency in which her household duties would drag her away, she came back as quickly as she could and listened with fervour. Upon seeing so, I picked a convenient time in which I could talk to her and begged me so to tell her the parts of the story she had missed."

"So I agreed."

Sirius thinks that Othello was weaker than him.

"Once I had told her about the distressing episodes of my youth, she responded with a world of sighs. She thought and claimed a strange story. A very strange story, and a very sad one."

Sirius doesn't need to look inside the Summoner's head to know she thinks of something similar whenever she sees him.

She may not know him at all, but that didn't matter.

She still sees him.

"She wished she hadn't heard it, but regardless, wished she had been a man so that she could have had such adventures. She gave me thanks, and told me that if I had a friend who was in love with her, I should teach him to tell my story in order to win her heart. And on that hint, I spoke out."

"She loved me for the dangers I have experienced, and I loved her back for the pity in which she holds for them."

"This is the only witchcraft I have used."

These words make him uncomfortable, because he thinks they might be true.

The Summoner takes her cue, takes a deep breath, and straightens her posture as the bit-part actors push open the fake door leading on to the main stage. Right now, she is Desdemona. An elegant lady in love with a general.

That general being the persona Sirius has put on, as he sits there gazing at her with an unfamiliar gaze. One that he had put up for the play itself no doubt, and yet, it makes her anxious. But the Summoner keeps her posture refined and precise as she makes her way forward.

"There she is." The sorcerer playing as Iago leads her to stand in front of the Duke. "Let her tell you herself."

After Desdemona was waved to be seated, the Duke turned to Desdemona's father. "I do think that such a story would win over my own daughter. Good sir, why don't you make the best of this? Broken weapons are always better that bare hands in the battlefield after all."

Desdemona's father shakes his head. "Please, listen to her. Should she claim to take half of the blame, only then shall I accept this." He draws himself closer to Desdemona and takes her hand. "Come here, my dear. Can you see the person in which you owe the most obedience to?"

The Summoner plays her role well, as Desdemona gently slips her hand away from her father's. "My noble father, I have divided loyalty. I am thankful for the life and education you have provided me, both of which has taught me to respect you. I am still your daughter, and I will always have a duty to you."

She stands up and makes her way towards Othello - towards Sirius - and the closing proximity between them makes her heart speed up.

Especially as she holds his hand. Unlike earlier, she realises how cold it is.

"But this is my husband."

And this is just a show. A fake one. But Sirius feels his heart squeezing tighter as the Summoner turns around and gives him a loving smile under the pretext of being Desdemona.

Oh how he foolishly longs for it to be real. And these dangerous thoughts, he wishes he could just kill them.

But the show must go on, without consideration of how this whole situation feels like a bad joke.

(Backstage) Preparation for Act 5, Scene 2:

The stage crew shuffled around the waiting room in frenzy, setting up props, yelling at each other, and preparing for what is arguably the most anticipated scene of the entire show; Desdemona's death.

The Summoner took a deep breath, and reached her arms behind her to retrieve the hairpin that Sirius had pinned to her hair.

Even now, she's not sure where he got it from, why he bought it, or why he let her use it at all.

She ruminates for a few seconds while looking at the beautiful star-shaped hairpin, rotating it around slowly, the lights around her making it look as if it were twinkling. Like a star in the night sky.

But she doesn't have much time for this, so she quickly snaps out of her reverie to release the ribbon that held her hair-do together letting her hair fall down on her shoulders, the familiar sensation making her relax, most of the tension having been released.

Most of it, she's still nervous.

"Summoner, you're up for a wardrobe change!"

A female sorcerer approaches her a garment in hand. The next scene involves an unknowing Desdemona sleeping on her bed, so as the Summoner takes the new set of costume from the sorcerer's arms, she holds it up to reveal an old-fashioned nightgown.

"I'll be ready as soon as possible."

She places the brooch aside as she says this.

Nodding her head, the sorcerer leaves the Summoner alone so that she could get changed. But her hands shake as she unzips the back of the nightgown, the clock ticking behind her ominously, making her feel even more anxious for her next scene on stage. No matter how many times she has done this, the nervousness of having to perform on stage in front of a large audience will always be there.

Once she's done changing into the nightgown, she takes one more glance at the brooch on the dressing table, thinks for a few seconds, and quickly makes up her mind so as to not waste anymore time. She swipes the brooch off the table and gently, carefully, hides it in her pocket.

She's not sure why, maybe's she's afraid of losing it.

Maybe she thinks it'll provide her comfort.

"Are you ready?"

The sorcerer knocks on her door, and the Summoner notices that her tone has become considerably more tense and rushed. The clock seems to tick even louder, and the Summoner quickly answers her.

"Yes! I'm ready, I'll be out in a second."

Everyone is nervous, she has to do this properly.

She opens the door and sees the sorcerer give her a relieved smile, but that smile quickly turns into a serious expression as the Summoner is hurriedly ushered away to the back of the stage for her next scene.

"We have to hurry, there's not much time left."

Yes, she knows. The Summoner feels her veins thrum in nervous energy and her steps hasten in response.

But as they're walking past the wooden corridor that leads directly to the area behind the curtains, they hear someone shout out to them in warning.

"Watch out!"

"!"

On normal occasions, the Summoner thinks as she watches a heavy set of curtains fall down on her, she would have reacted properly. Maybe dodge, cry for help, or take cover and duck.

But her body is still stiff and frozen from her accumulated anxiety, she can't move. Even as the impending shadow blankets her sight, mind, and senses.

"Get down!"

But the sorcerer next to her is still sharp somewhat, and pushes the Summoner forward with her body to prevent her from getting smothered by the heavy weight of the old, velvet curtains.

But that could only do so much.

"!"

The Summoner feels a sharp pain in her ankle, and can only vaguely hear the sounds of raised, worried voices around her, as the pain blinds her from everything. She can't move or do anything in this state.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

She must have sprained her ankle.

"Summoner!"

The Summoner looks up to see Pollux rushing forward in worry towards her. The familiar and friendly face is what gets her to finally start talking, after having stayed silent in shock.

"P-Pollux, do you...know any healing magic?"

She hears her own voice water in pain, so she stamps it down, holds in her tears. She can't ruin her makeup and she most certainly can't worry the others now, especially when Pollux looks as if he's about to cry for her himself.

From here, she can hear the actors speaking on stage, and she feels her entire body tremble more violently with each passing second, as the time comes for her turn to go up on stage draws nearer.

She has to go up on that stage, even if her ankle feels like it's about to tear apart, even if it might make it worse. So she asks him for help, anything can work at this rate.

But Pollux fidgets uncomfortably at her request. "Of course I can! But there's no way I can heal it in one go, I'm not as talented as Alpheratz or Spica..."

His voice is trailing off in doubt, but when she spots Sirius at the other end of the stage, hidden behind the curtains from the audience, staring at her direction, she tugs on Pollux's sleeve.

"Anything will do."

She emphasises her words, conveying her determination, and desperation.

"It's fine if you can just heal it a bit. You've learned the Tranquilizer Spell haven't you? The one used to immobilise foes."

The Summoner gestures to her ankle.

"You can cast it here. Use a weaker version of it, enough so I can still move. So long as I can't feel the pain, I can still perform."

"But-!"

Pollux tries to protest, but the words die down on his throat as he sees the expression on her face, looking as if she were ready to charge through hellfire. Slowly, he nods, like a pitiful, apologetic kitten.

"Alright, then."

She can still make this work. She just needs to do her very best.

She doesn't notice the look Sirius wears, as he sees her get back up on her feet again. He's too far away, as always.

(Act 4, Scene 2) Othello kills Desdemona:

He's not sure what he should do anymore.

He glances down at Desdemona-the Summoner-watching her chest rise and fall as she lays down on the bed prop, mocking sleep. Up close like this, he's the only one who can see what the audience can't.

The pained twitch of her eyebrows.

"This is the reason, my love."

He has no choice but to recite his lines.

"The heavens would scorn me, should I utter the mention of it but yes, that is the reason. Yet, neither shall I shed her blood, nor leave a mark any darker than the colour of snow."

"But she must die."

Would it make things easier?

"Or else, she may betray other men. Put out the light first, and then take hers away. Should I put out the candle, I can relight it once again."

The way he has done countless times, rewinding time and time and time again.

For the sake of someone long gone.

"But should I take away your light, you deceptive existence of beauty and wonder..."

He crouches down beside to lift a strand of her hair, up to his lips, kissing it ever so softly.

"...never again can this light be relighted. To pluck a rose from it's stem, it shall surely wither. So while I am still here, let me stay."

He bends over his sleeping beauty and kissed her forehead, as per the script.

"Such a sweet scent, should surely change my mind. To bear to let this all go, I cannot."

Sirius brushes the Summoner's bangs aside, and kissed the corner of here forehead.

"Should you remain as beautiful dead, then I shall kill you and keep on loving you."

He believes that. Sirius thinks he may do that.

"Something so sweet, something never so fatal. These tears remain on my cheeks, but they are cruel tears indeed."

That is the cue, and the sheets rustle against the nightgown ever so slightly, as Desdemona wakes up.

"Ah, she is awake!"

Desdemona wakes up drowsily, and casts her sleepy eyes towards him, as he watches a small, loving smile blooms on her face like a dainty flower.

"Othello."

"Desdemona."

Othello gazes at her with a face filled with sorrow.

"Have you done your prayers tonight, Desdemona?"

"Yes I have, my lord." Desdemona reaches out a slender arm towards him, as if to lull him to bed.

"Will you not come to sleep?"

Othello ignores her, and says instead, "If you can think of any crime that you haven’t reconciled with heaven, pray for that immediately."

Desdemona rises with trepidation. "What could you mean with that?"

"Do it, quickly." He urges her. "I shan't kill you and your unprepared soul. Heavens forbid, I do not want to kill your soul at all."

"Are you...talking about killing me?"

She sounds scared, pained, and Sirius again has to resist the urge to reach out to her.

"Yes."

Yet, his facade remains still.

"N-No!"

Desdemona withdrew away from him as fast as lightning. "By the constellations, have mercy on me! I have not done anything!"

"And Amen, with all my heart."

Desdemona looks at him with fearful eyes. "I am afraid. Because you are murderous when your eyes roll like that. I don’t know why I should be afraid because I don’t feel guilty about anything. But I am afraid nonetheless."

"Think about your sins."

As he recites this, Sirius thinks about his.

"The only sin I have ever committed, is that of my love for you."

To that, if he dares to, Sirius agrees.

"Yes, and it is for that, you are dying."

"My beloved."

He adds that in himself.

He shouts at her, replicating his rehearsal on that day, mimicking Othello's rage at his wife for his unfaithfulness. He conveys as much betrayal and feelings of hurt he can muster, to dredge up the old memories in hopes of delivering a successful, convincing performance. The way he has done all this while.

It is with this, he knows that he is the one laid bare before the Summoner.

And the Summoner herself in turn, responds to his acting with her own. Counter his fake emotions with her own.

"Is it what I fear? Is he dead?"

She laments for the death of Cassio. The one Othello had accused of Desdemona being unfaithful to.

"If all his hairs had been lives my great revenge would have had stomach for them all."

"Alas then, he has been betrayed, and I’ve been undone.’"

Desdemona weeps. And Othello is enraged.

"If he truly loved her, he wouldn't have wanted to kill her at all."

Things are not so simple, nothing ever is. But this is the one thing Sirius still believes in even now.

Still, he also believes that if he could hurt the Summoner enough, scared her enough, she'd finally leave Bound Arlyn. Stay out of his life, his plans...

And stay safe.

"How dare you weep for him in front of me! Down!"

He pushes her down on the bed, his hands on her throat. And sensing the time of her death approaching, she pleads with him.

"Kill me tomorrow! I beg of you, my Lord please-!"

"No-"

"Just one more hour please!"

Her voice cracks, and Sirius see the Summoner shed tears as if she were in pain.

Who is he kidding, of course she's in pain. Cleverly using it for her performance, using a method completely different from his.

She struggles frantically against his strength, flailing and begging for him to let her live longer, for one more hour, one more minute, one more second. She cries and weeps in despair as he continues to grip her throat, cutting off her oxygen.

The Summoner is a good actor, he thinks. Her cries of pain feel real, piercing his heart, and he thinks he wants to die. Thinks he may cry for her as he spots a small wound of blood appear at the side of her nightgown and he wants to scream in pain.

But he's too far gone. His mask is already too perfect.

"My Lord please-!"

He hates the fact that he wants to cry for her but he can't. Her body goes limp under him, her breathing slowing down, and the Summoner dies in his arms as beautiful as the day he first saw her.

He realizes then he's destined to hurt the people he cares for, even when he doesn't want to. But he himself has twisted his own nature into the monster he wanted to be. It makes sense, that he can't even gift her a simple brooch without hurting her.

All he wants to do is dance the night away with her, as innocently as he did before.

But he can't do that oh no.

He just can't.

The most anticipated scene of the show has been executed brilliantly, and the audience erupts into a wild show of applause.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi Kait, I hope you're doing great! I came all the way here to tell you that I've fallen in love with your Mystic Messenger writings 💕💕 you have a way of narrating the thoughts and emotions of the characters that keep me reading until the end (I was literally reading an article for an assignment and ended up reading one of your writings in full!) I think you've become my inspiration to write someday 🫶🏻

From the Mysmess universe do you have any recommendations for me to read? Yes, I know I could look in your AO3 but I thought I could ask the author herself jaja

Thank you Kait for being in this fandom and filling it with your beautiful writing! ✨

So, I could give you some of my stories to read, and I will give you some of my longer stories and which ones I would recommend you to read, but I will give recommendations from other authors who have penned longer stories that I really enjoyed. Just three for now since I don't want to give you too much homework!

Constellations by Cervella: Detective MC / Saeyoung, follows the canon game with a few minor adaptations! It unfortunately hasn't been updated in a few years but it's still worth the read in my opinion. The MC is interesting! I love reading about the different ways we all imagine our characters to face all the challenges that come, and this MC works fast and hard to find solutions. Stubborn, but any Saeyoung MC is.

an act of kindness by Khismer: This is one of my favorite Unknown stories. It was one of the first ones I came across in the fandom in 2016. There wasn't a lot to go off of back then when it came to his personality, but this fic really drew me in when I was desperate to have content with this guy. It's a wild ride in which you become close to him and I don't want to spoil it because it's a lot of fun.

Everlasting Party by ZenTheRainbowUnicorn: I would be remissed if I didn't bring up one time loop story. If I had to pick one, it would be this one. Again, the story isn't completed but I do think it's always worth your time to read a story that might be a little bit older to give that author a smile when they see new reviews. This is a Zen fueled love affair and you don't see too many of those these days, I'm afraid.

Okay, now to recommend some of my stories that might interest you based on what I've seen you like.

Iris by lilacnightmares: SE Saeran x Former Believer. A story that's built around jumping from the past to present as you make sense of what happened to you and Saeran. It's a story I always wanted to sit down and write ever since I was inspired by all the Assistant stories for Unknown. This one? I will love it forever.

Gloxinia by lilacnightmares: It's my own time loop story. This time, the focus is Suit Saeran... how many times can you go around and around before you crack?

Gardenia, et tu Polaris? by lilacnightmares: Have you ever wanted a story where Saeran AND Saeyoung get love? Find out in this story of an Angel Saeran and Demon Luciel as they fight to make sense of not only their religious trauma, but mine because this fic helped me deal with a lot of feelings! Also, Rika is a very interesting antagonist you'll never understand until the very end!

Cereus by lilacnightmares: Please, read my cowboy story and love it because it's my favorite series. Have you ever wanted to kiss the cute outlaw Unknown? No? Well, you're not in the loop because you owe him for saving your life, now dance on that saloon stage with Zen and find out what's going on in this dusty little western town!

Zantedeschia by lilacnightmares: Have you ever wondered what VAE Ray and Saeran do once they have to make sense of life after the end of the second party? Well, this is what happens. They get a job at a cute little bed and breakfast, but, here's the catch, their uniform is a maid outfit and they happen to catch the eye of the gardener who works at their job... this is actually @/DailySaeran's favorite story of mine!

[suokumi]

Last Line Challenge

Rules:

In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like).

Tagged by @starry-pierrot @amberluvsbugs thank you for tagging me sweethearts :3c

Last Line: is from the personal fic I'm occasionally writing

Deciding to postpone reviewing all the data, Will stared at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his chest.

Last Art: close up of a comic I'm slowly working on uwo

No pressure tags: @heartstitched @lovingstarfishsandwich @snatcherghost @luna-amina @fillipquesender @polaris-stuff @in3rdy @sleepyjuniper @spaciebabie @rinzay @ariisonfire @ayyy-imma-ninja @betweenblackberrybranches @aephalen @bittysteam @vurelly @maudiemoods @driftingmoonmenace @starrspice @kabra-malvada @madame-mongoose @cloudyvoid @alternativesaga @pillowspace and anyone else who wants to join<3

[abybweisse]

Ch209 (p4), The queen of tragedy

⚠️ Long post ⚠️

You might be wondering where that heading comes from. I'll get to that in a bit....

So, we are back to recent events, where Finny and Doll fight over Snake, each one claiming the other is the enemy. Both parties are involved in deception; he wonders why they helped him but lied the entire time. Out of the circus troupe, he seems to have been closest to Doll, and she never told him the truth about the circus. He also becomes particularly close to Finny, who immediately likes his snakes, but Finny doesn't inform him about the true fates of his circus friends. Then there're our earl and Sebastian, who lead him to believe the circus members are still alive and just on the lamb.

Why would the people closest to him all lie to him?

Then we get a couple scenes before his and Finny's assignment begins.

But this flashback switches from what Snake is recalling... to what a reaper is reviewing. Born March 15 -- the Ides of March -- to an actress named Sarah Kemble. More on her at the end. Death on December 9, 1889, from blood loss.

The expression on this (new to us!) reaper's face makes me wonder what he's thinking. He says "no additional remarks", but I believe he's thinking some additional thoughts.

He must realize there's something odd about Doll, who is holding Snake's body and grieving over him. Doesn't he realize she's a bizarre doll? Has he not taken note of the blood transfusion equipment in the room down the hall? What about all the veins popping up all over her body? Hasn't he been informed about the search for Undertaker and his moving corpses?

Does he not yet have info from Othello regarding Layla/Al? We have to keep in mind that this is all probably happening around the same time that Ronald and William are taking Layla/Al into custody, so this reaper might not be fully informed and so might not know what all signs to look for.

Besides, Ronald is sent to Norfolk ahead of the impending deaths, because there was word a bizarre doll is stationed there. He just has to figure out which person it is. Ronald can't tell who the bizarre doll is just by looking, so he has to wait and see who starts acting like one.

This reaper apparently isn't sent to investigate FOL Orphanage, suggesting HQ didn't have similar intelligence regarding a bizarre doll there. If he's not looking for one, he might not bother to take much notice of Doll's appearance or the medical equipment.

Everything is happening at about the same time:

Mey-Rin and Ran-Mao are heading to their next meeting spot while Polaris makes his report to real Ciel and Undertaker. Heathfield is arrested, and the legal investigation there is still underway.

Ronald and William are dealing with Layla/Al, with the intention of taking her back to HQ for examination. Baldo, Lau, and the others are still planning their getaway; they have not yet escaped the sanatorium.

Othello is probably at HQ, working out the finer details of the transfusion machine he has just recently confiscated from the underground facility at Bath. Beyond that, the dove he sent back to HQ might be the only call for help he's requested to deal with Undertaker.

And this reaper is (as far as I can tell) just responding to the assigned task of collecting souls from Snake, Susan, and the head matron. He really might not be in the loop about Undertaker and his moving corpses... just yet.

This gives an easy setup for him to go about business as usual and leave Doll to her grieving. If he doesn't confront her and just leaves, she can ask Undertaker to turn Snake into a bizarre doll -- even if it's just to be her companion. Undertaker would see old goals of revenge in Snake's cinematic records and could potentially turn him against the Phantomhives, through creation of his "episodes" by cherry-picking the memories and goals that would compel him to seek that revenge again. If that happens, we could get Snake confronting our earl and Sebastian... where Sebastian fulfills the implied threat he makes (to Baldo, about any servant who turns against their master) in ch51.

So, there's that.

Then we have a couple other things to discuss: the current date and Snake's mother.

It's December 9, 1889. This works great with my Mother3 theory, which states the contract should end before our earl is officially 14 years old. December 13, 1889 is the eve of that birthday, and it's also a Friday the 13th. This is highly symbolic because of when his father is born and when his paternal grandmother dies. I'm sure there are absolutely zero coincidences in this.

We will go back a few days (again) for the start of our earl's and Sebastian's assignment in Brighton, then we will catch up to December 9th with them. During this time and soon after, they will receive word about the other three assignments, as word trickles in. Or perhaps they are bombarded with all the reports in quick succession. Then we've got another four days for them to finish not just their own assignment but also their contract. Perhaps their assignment finishes around the same time as the others. If so, they have three or four more days to address whatever they have learned.

Now onto Snake's mother. She's based on a real person, or a combination of a few people in a notable family. My own initial research pulled up a Fanny Kemble, who was a British actress who lived in this time period but was too old to be Snake's mother. She bore a daughter named Sarah (Kemble) Butler, but Sarah wasn't an actress. Fanny was well known as a former actress and an abolitionist -- who separated from her husband (Butler), partly over disagreement about slavery -- and returned to the stage, where she renewed her focus on the works of William Shakespeare... performing public readings of his plays.

Discussing the chapter in Discord, I got word -- from @mjmj2994 -- about a Sarah (Kemble) Siddons who was an actress, though she was from the mid-18th to early 19th century. Her mother was also a Sarah Kemble. Turns out that Sarah Siddons (née and a.k.a. Sarah Kemble) was an aunt to the Fanny Kemble I'd found! Small world, eh? Anyway, Sarah Kemble/Siddons (wiki article here) became known as the "queen of tragedy" for her portrayal of Lady Macbeth and other Shakespearean tragic characters -- including numerous cross-dress performances as Hamlet himself. Even though Yana-san would have to change the timeline to fit our Sarah Kemble, this is most likely the historical reference for her. Here's more information about the Kemble family line and their extensive involvement with the acting industry.

Our Snake comes from an esteemed family of actors, and I suppose we are to assume he's an issue who was so quickly covered up and forgotten that he was perhaps never even named. Who was his true father? And how did he come to have such strong snake-like traits? We might never know.

Now we wait to see if this reaper does anything about Doll. And then onto our earl and Sebastian in Brighton!

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 19)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse (dub-con), discussions of sexual assault, trauma and mental illness; reader discretion advised.

Part 18

The wizengamont is buzzing, like a hive full of bees, when members of the Malfoy family begin pouring in. Draco surrenders himself. Narcissa and Lucius are there, Archer, Dixie and most of the Weasleys, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Blaise. Hermione, Harry and Ron are also in attendance.

Rosanna is sat in the very front row of the observation deck, with Leo on one side and Arlo on the other. Each of their respective partners have joined them. Henry tries to lighten the mood, that’s what he always does.

Marko, like Arlo is more calculated, eyes flitting about the room. Taking note of the exits, incase the testimonies become too much for his girlfriend, his first priority is getting her out.

“Today we are gathered to review the details of a crime committed twenty-three years ago. Beginning on the night that Draco Malfoy tampered with the memories of Rosanna McVay and instructed her to leave Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, under the influence of the imperius curse. The accused then forced Rosanna McVay onto his estate and imprisoned her for over a year. During which time the victim was forced to engage in sexual intercourse, resulting in conception and full term gestation of a child.”

————————————————————————

“It starts today,” Polaris says, simply.

James nods, very aware of her father’s trial. In fact, he’s using their Hogsmeade trip as an opportunity to distract her. Though she didn’t seem too interested in butterbeer, dragging him around to the back of the pub, to hide from their schoolmates.

“Leo and Arlo are going.” None of the school aged children get to go. “Vega is in shambles. She won’t see me, even if I’m occluding. Says it’ll be too much.”

“I’m sorry.” James breathes, “it’s a pity you can’t just give each other a bit of each. The legillimacy and the occlumency. Then it wouldn’t be so…much all the time.”

“It’s because I’m like him, you know, my dad.” Their talents are not taught, they were born with them.

“There’s worse things to be, Polaris.”

“I know.”

“Is that why you won’t let anyone close to you?”

“You’re close to me.” Polaris points out, hitting him with her icy gaze.

“I want to get closer.”

“That’s how it’ll be, if we get closer. You realize that, don’t you? I’ll be just like him, once I’m in that’s it. Even if you didn’t want me anymore, I’d still want you. I’d be jealous and possessive, I’d be-”

“You’re not gonna become a different person.” James knows how she is, all of the best and worst things about her. “You’ll still be you.”

Polaris blinks at him, slowly.

“In a few months, we graduate. I want to play quidditch for the Ballycastle Bats, there’s been a couple scouts out to see me already. Come with me, Polaris. We can see the world together, we can go wherever you want. I’ll be with you and no one else.” James promises, taking her face in his hands.

“Why?” She covers his fingers with her own.

“I love you, nitwit. Have I not made myself perfectly clear?”

“But why?” Her blue eyes are comically large.

“Dunno really, maybe it’s your stupid hair,” he tugs at it, the same way he has since they were children. “You’re snippy and moody and don’t like to share. But more than that, you’re a laugh and good listener and you think things through. You always have a plan, which is well suited for me because I’m an idiot.”

Polaris bites back a grin as she rolls her eyes, “an impulsive idiot.”

“Exactly!” He agrees, “you’re the one who should be contemplating whether or not you really want to be stuck with me, not the other way around. You’re brilliant. I’m just James.”

“Just James.” Polaris presses her lips into a firm line. He is so much more than that.

Last names are heavy.

Potter.

Malfoy.

Sometimes it’s nice to shuck them off. “Come with me and we don’t have to settle. I won’t ask you to marry me, we don’t need to have kids. We’ll just be together and do whatever the hell we want.”

Polaris sighs, surely it can’t be that simple.

“I’ll love you forever.” James brushes his knuckles over her cheek.

“I don’t know what to say.” She admits, her chest is painfully tight.

“Say yes, Polaris. You’re not too much for me, you’re exactly what I want.”

“I love you.” The words are like lead on her tongue.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible, now was it?”

Polaris shakes her head.

“Now we’ll need to practice, so you can say it without looking peaky.”

“Shut up.” She snogs him then, behind the little Hogsmeade pub.

————————————————————————

“Paint us a picture of what your time at Malfoy Manor looked like during the war.” The councilor instructs.

Rosanna swallows hard, all eyes are on her now; with pity, guilt, distaste, even fear. She finds Draco, his stare is raw, possessive; as if he’d sooner serve a life sentence in Azkaban than to watch her relive it. “I was well cared for. Draco was responsible for most interactions between us and Voldemort. He trusted Draco more than he trusted me.”

“And when Draco was instructed to…perform his duty to the dark lord, what did you do then?”

Rosanna lowers her gaze. “What we had to.”

“At any point were you restrained, during these sessions?”

“No.” Never, Draco wouldn’t have been able to…

“Where were your hands?”

Are you comfortable with your arms there?

“Beside my head.” Against lush pillows and a thousand thread count sheets.

“Where were Mr. Malfoy’s hands?”

“Holding mine.”

“He was pinning you down?”

“No.” Rosanna sighs, “I was able to move.”

“Yet you didn’t.”

“Correct.”

“Were you instructed not to move?”

Draco looks like he might be sick.

“No.”

“How much control would you say you had over your own actions, at this time?”

Rosanna pauses, choosing her next words carefully. “Eventually, I broke free from the imperius curse. I think at any point, I could’ve stopped him but I didn’t. We agreed to do whatever it took to stop Voldemort, or at least slow him down.

Draco never hurt me, he never restrained me, forced himself on me or ordered me to be still. It was not the horrendous act some people believe it to be. I asked him to use the imperius curse. I knew what it meant. I knew how much I was asking. It worked, we have all the evidence necessary to prove that.

I don’t regret aiding the war efforts, but Draco is still facing consequences for my decision, and for that I will always be sorry.”

———————��————————————————

There’s a crunch of ice, snapping beneath the sole of a shoe. James takes a step back from his…Polaris, thinking they’ve been caught, snogging behind the pub.

“Polaris?”

Polaris turns toward the voice. It’s not a prefect, or a professor. “Vega?”

“I’m sorry for what I said.” Vega picks at her nails, anxiously. “It was a terrible thing to say, that I wouldn’t see you. You’re my sister, of course I’ll see you.”

Arlene is there too, James realizes, keeping her distance. Clearly for emotional support.

“It’s alright, I know it’s a lot for you. Especially now.” Polaris forgives her, she always forgives her.

“You’re my sister,” Vega repeats.

Polaris trudges over through the snow, tossing both arms around her twin.

“So we’re chopped liver, huh?” James’ prods Arlene, lightly with his shoulder.

“Yes and no.” The girl replies, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

————————————————————————

Draco hasn’t thought about those first few months of Rosanna’s pregnancy with Leo. Not voluntarily, not in years. But the penesive brings it all back. How the dark lord ruined it. His first time feeling Leo move, making the idea of her so very real; tainted. Ruined. Robbed of the joy that little girl would bring him. Robbed of the look on Rosanna’s face when she felt their baby kick. He couldn’t escape it, he was always in that room.

Now Leo can see it too. A courtroom full of strangers can see it. Draco loves Leo. He’s always loved Leo. But it had been different with her and he spent the rest of his life trying to fix it. To somehow make it up to her. His perfect little girl, his first born child.

Leo is not surprised by these memories, her father was always at war with the idea of her. Not with her as a person, but the concept that her existence was in some way detrimental to her mother and that it was his fault.

Her father is divided into parts. The world unrelated to Rosanna exists somewhere far from him. With her at the forefront, in screaming color. Then comes their children, a place which touches Rosanna, but separate.

Once removed is her friends and family, his job at the ministry, all of the things she cares about.

His actions are not that of a callus or cold man who hated his unborn child. Rather of an eighteen year old boy, who did nothing but protect his child. It was not a lack of love which fueled his lack of attachment, it was fear.

Leo hopes that one day her father can make peace with it.

————————————————————————-

"This case has been incredibly difficult to navigate. The testimony we’ve heard, is unprecedented by any other." The speaker for the wizengamont announces. "We have considered: Draco Malfoy's age at the time of his actions, his determination to aid in the downfall of Voldemort, and the unwillingness of the only surviving victim to press charges. The members of this council hereby find Draco Malfoy guilty.”

“That’s alright, darling.” Narcissa leans down to her daughter-in-law. “We’ll file an appeal and-”

Rosanna continues staring, unblinking at her husband, communicating without words as the room erupts into hushed whispers.

Arlo reaches to the row behind them for her grandfather. “We’ll fix this, there has to be a way?”

Lucius says nothing, clenching his jaw as he pats her outstretched hand.

“He is sentenced to fifteen years imprisonment, and ordered to pay one hundred thousand gallons in damages, to Rosanna Malfoy, every calendar year for the rest of his natural life.”

“They can’t do that.” Leo protests. More than anything she wants to run to her father and tell him that it isn’t his fault. That she doesn’t think any less of him, but she won’t shout it in front of a room full of people.

“This is outrageous!” Lucius shoots up out of his seat.

The council woman narrows her eyes. “With the minister’s approval, we are willing to convert his years as an auror into time served. Draco Malfoy completed his sentence as of last June. Finally, we hearby declare that Draco Malfoy will receive two hundred thousand gallons per calendar year, in reparations for the gross mishandling of his case files and for efforts made to aid the order in the second wizarding war.”

Draco Malfoy is a free man.

[mistakenot4892]

Nebula vledbog May '24

This post was crossposted from cohost.

It has been a busy month on the dev branch. A lot of forward progress has been made on the Shaded Hills fantasy map, and several big rewrites have gone in and are under active adjustment and review.

Nebula SS13 is an open source project based on the Baystation 12 version of Space Station 13. SS13 is a topdown multiplayer simulation game where you play the crew of a ship, station, colony, etc. depending on your fork and map, with the Nebula and Bay forks having a focus on roleplaying and simulation interactions.

Notable changes

A big chunk of the work this month has been adding subtypes and variants for the fantasy map. You can now override things like loadout options, backpack types, survival box types, and starting cash options on a per-map basis. The fantasy map has also had a lot of aesthetic adjustments made to lighting and turf colouring to make things look really nice.

Penny has finished removing a billion unused procs and vars, cleaning up the code significantly.

Lots of clothing has been generalized. The /accessory subtype has been removed, and combining clothing items has been generalized. Shirts can be freely matched with pants, suit jackets no longer come with full business casual attached, and more.

Penny has also gotten the dev branch compiling on OpenDream, an open-source BYOND alternative with a lot of potential. The OD compiler is also included in the continuous integration testing for each merge to the dev branch, identifying problems that would be missed by the linter or the base BYOND DM compiler.

Penny has also resolved a really annoying issue with map edge lighting causing weird artifacting, making edge transitions much nicer visually.

The daycycle system has been gutted and reworked to take advantage of our much faster ambient lighting. Instead of crawling left to right across a single level, daycycles are now applied to entire z-level chunks, and can be customize with individual periods, lighting changes, and temperature. Dawn is bloody red, evening is dim.

Storage has been datumized! This is a bit of an arcane technical change, but in essence it means anything can have the ability to act as storage and hold items inside itself. Previously this was restricted to a single specific item subtype.

Supporting code for quadrupedal (or hexapodal, or n-podal) species has been merged, and immediately caused all simple animals to believe they had no legs and fall over. Working as intended. Grafadreka (reworked from the Polaris version) will be going in soon...

Bugs of note

C4 immediately melts at room temperature when spawned, making it very hard to attach it to doors or walls.

Taking the 'synthetic brain' aspect to fulfil your beep boop robot roleplay needs appeared to work fine, but five minutes after you spawned it would delete your brain and kill you.

You can use a lighter or welding torch to 'carefully heat' yourself, a mechanic intended for chemistry, but one that results in your hands becoming white-hot beacons that instantly melt anything you pick up.

Due to hairstyles defaulting to a human buzzcut when hidden by gear, neo-avians and yinglets manifested a floating buzzcut two feet above their head anytime they wore a hat.

Current priorities

r5 is very close to being ready to go. Once the robot bugs are sorted, we can finish off this staging period and start on r6.

The MVP TODO list for Shaded Hills is down to 10 or so items - getting through that before r6 staging would be ideal, since Shaded Hills being incomplete on staging/stable would suck.

I really want to completely dismantle the /under subtype and make all the various uniforms into component clothing items. It's much nicer for customizing your character and making outfits for jobs etc. than the current arrangement. As of my current PR, there's only ~200-odd uses of /under in the codebase, so we are closing on victory (act now).

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Smithsonian:

Bumblebees are disappearing around the world. But so far, scientists can only speculate about what’s causing their demise, probing the effects of habitat loss, pesticides and disease.

Now, new research makes the case for another possible killer: rising global temperatures.

Across many different species of bumblebees and the various regions they inhabit, the insects thrive when their nests are between 82 and 89.6 degrees Fahrenheit, according to a new paper published Friday in the journal Frontiers in Bee Science. When nest temperatures reach 96.8 degrees or higher, however, bees struggle to survive, the findings suggest.

Researchers reached this conclusion after reviewing scientific literature dating back to the 1840s.

“It’s remarkable that all the way from the high Arctic to the tropics, bumblebees seem to have the same sort of nest temperature requirements,” says study co-author Peter Kevan, an environmental scientist at the University of Guelph, to New Scientist’s Corryn Wetzel. “If it gets too hot… it’s quite likely that they will die.”

Past research on honeybees has shown that hotter nest temperatures compromise the queens’ ability to reproduce and lead to smaller, less hardy worker bees. Scientists suspect heat likely has similar effects on bumblebees, which may help explain why they’re declining amid human-caused climate change.

Bees can cool down their nests by beating their wings like fans, but “if the air outside is too hot, that’s not going to help,” says Dave Goulson, a biologist at the University of Sussex in England who was not involved in the research, to the Guardian’s Sophie Kevany.

The findings are not surprising, given that bumblebees thrive in cooler places, including one species, Bombus polaris, that lives in the Arctic. Some bumblebees are already adapting, such as by moving to higher elevations, but that strategy, too, will only work for so long—unless humans halt the progression of climate change.

Some individual bees may be able to tolerate higher temperatures. But the researchers argue that bumblebee colonies should be viewed as “superorganisms,” meaning that they all rely on each other for survival and reproduction. If nests are too warm and larvae die off, that affects the entire colony.

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Laurence-Anne Shares Woozy and Breakneck "Vitesse"

New Audio: Laurence-Anne Shares Woozy and Breakneck "Vitesse" @LaurenceAnneCG @bonsound @bonsoundpromo

Acclaimed Montréal-based artist Laurence-Anne has developed a reputation for being an architect of the intangible. Her work is a blend of elements of dream pop, coldwave and synth pop built around soundscapes featuring haunting melodies, lush synths, hazy textures and synthetic rhythms paired with a voice that’s capable of evoking and instilling both comfort and anxiety. Thematically and…

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - thirty-three | Crom3r

Hongjoong was going over the notes you made for the choreos and making notes on the songs files accordingly. Maddox was sitting next to him, observing and adding his own input.

You posted the trailer for an upcoming mashup yesterday and were currently scrolling the comments to see how everyone was feeling about it. It was the tiniest of little blurbs of a trailer, but your fans were already losing their minds. You smiled. 

“We need a new name.” Maddox said.

You put your phone away. “A name?”

“A production name. We had one when--” Maddox stopped himself from saying the old member’s name, his eyes darting from Hongjoong and back to you “--our original third member was in the group. We should think of a new one.”

“Am… am I in the group already?”

“YES?” He shouted.

You laughed nervously. “Oh my god.”

“We need a new one.”

“Okay, I believe you. What was the old one? I forget.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Hongjoong said. “He made up the name and I’d rather not think about him right now.”

Maddox looked at him, a small frown on his face. “Fair. But… let’s you and me think of a new name, t/n.” He got up and joined you at the table and put his notebook down between the two of you so you could both write on it.

What proceeded was a two hour long brainstorming session where both of you were looking up names, looking up what they meant, writing them down in case they might sound good, trying to come up with something that involved all three of you, but still trying to pay tribute to the fact that Hongjoong had been at Wonderland the longest.

You leaned back in your chair and sighed. “We should give up and order food.”

“No! I think we can do it!” Maddox said, and patted your arm.

You sighed again.

Maddox looked at the scribbled notes on the paper. “Hongjoong… Hong…Hong-something?”

“You don’t have to put my name in it.”

Maddox waved him off. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and went back to what he was doing.

“Hong…. Hong…”

“Hong Kong.” You suggested flippantly.

He glared at you. “This is serious.”

You smiled. “Hongjoong, what chinese characters did your parents use for your name?”

“Uh… I think ‘Hong’ is ‘wide’ or ‘vast’ and ‘joong’ is ‘center’.”

You stared at him for a moment. “What’s the meaning they intended?”

“‘To be the center of the broad world.’ Why? What were you thinking?”

“I thought it was a sports position like ‘wide center’ or something.”

He thought for a second. “Isn’t that ‘wide receiver’?”

You waved him away. “I don’t know sports.”

He chuckled and looked back at the screen.

“Center of the world, huh?” You thought. “Like a… like the pin that holds a compass needle to the back.”

“That’s a nice metaphor.” He said, not turning.

“Like a… like a… an immovable point that always guides you to where you need to go. Like… a guiding star, like…”

“Star Productions.” Maddox said.

“Too simple. Like…” you thought hard for a few seconds. “...Polaris? Like it’s the pole star and you follow it to find your way, and then we could put a compass in the ‘O’ when it’s an image.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “That’s way too much about me.”

“Well… I got nothin’.”

The room was quiet for a few moments, you looking up at the ceiling and Maddox reviewing the scribbles.

Then Hongjoong spoke up: “What about ‘Cromer’?”

“Cromer?” Maddox said.

“What’s that?” You asked.

“Like an hourglass. It turns on a centerpoint - so you have that aspect you want - but the sand represents like… the lots of little experiences we each have. I’ve been here the longest and you’re brand new, Maddox is in the middle, so it has the time aspect.”

“Hmm… maybe.”

“And we can write it out with a ‘3’ as the ‘e’; so it’s three of us and we all make up ‘Crom3r.”

“Oh… I kind of like that,” Maddox said.

“See? This is why you’re the captain.” You said.

Hongjoong sighed at the nickname. “Well… at least that’s figured out.”

“Crom3r.” Maddox said. “I like it.”

“It’s just weird enough to warrant a meaningful explanation, but the 3 in the written version makes that part obvious at least.” You offered.

“Definitely better than just ‘Star Productions.’”

“Yeah, I’m sure someone’s been using that since like… the 80s or something.”

Maddox chuckled and wrote out ‘Crom3r’ onto the notebook, trying to figure out what kind of font might look best with it.

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