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misterewrites · 3 years ago

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Alleyway Confrontation

Hey everyone! E here with the newest Mirror's Edge chapter. I hope you are all doing good given.....the state of the world. If you can (I know the burnout is real and I understand sometimes it's too much.) monitor the situation in Ukraine. Question the sources, question the motivates, research if you can (especially Russian Psyops are purposely spreading misinformation. again.) and try to make sure you're sure of things you are passing around. And we also have to keep an eye on Florida and Texas if you’re state side. And if you can't I understand completely. Take care of yourself.

Hopefully the next stuff I post will be very soon either more oneshots, maybe more Arcane or even this story. Be safe! take care of yourself, your loved ones and everyone around you. wash or change out your mask cuz even I forget. Get vaccinated if you can and push for it world wide cuz this is some bullshite. Have a great week and remember it's okay to treat yourself. I said so. Here's a doctor's note.

Doctor Medicine said I need *Insert thing here*

And thank you for taking the time to read this little passion project. I love and appreciate it and because I promised my friends to promote myself, feel free to tell your friends, leave comments and feedback and reblog it. I love it all especially feedback like your favorite lines or scenes or even characters. That's the best thing we writers love! E is out peace and stay safe out there.

Cuz tumblr hates me and every writer/artist on this hellsite here’s the chapter over at a03 ---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/93202417

And what’s this? The previous chapter in case you need a refresher? Whaaaa?https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/91366570

The story from the beginning if you curious what the heck this is https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

And if you are curious about the other things I have written about (Arcane, Soul Eater, Owl House and other stuff!)

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

And we’re here at the keep reading sign. Have a good one ya’ll!

Summary: With the promise of a clue on the way, Finnrick leaves the werewolves only to find himself ambushed in the alleyway. A strange man with mottling hair and empty eyes waits for the detective and Finnrick will have to gauge his new opponent carefully if he wants to cotinine pursing the case. Alive of course.

-----

Finnrick felt a chill run down the back of his neck despite the warm glow of the setting sun. He eyed the darkness that blanketed the alleyway warily, one hand on his shotgun with the other resting on the crow head of the cane.

“Tell me.” the older’s man fidgeted unevenly “Do you wish to die quickly or shall I have the pleasure of tormenting you slowly?”

Finnrick gave a cheeky grin despite how loud his heart thundered in his chest. He could see his hand tremble with each beat “Sorry my untimely demise is off the table at the moment but shall I order you something else off the menu? I personally recommend me kicking your ass with imprisonment on the side.”

There was a dark chuckle emitting from empty air.

“Such spirit. Such arrogance.” The man’s jaw moved in jerky and exaggerated fashion, almost like he couldn’t remember how to speak properly “Humanity. Such childish bravery.”

Uh oh, well that was concerning. One of the first lessons Finn learned as a supernatural detective was inhuman beings often referred to humans as children and indistinguishable from one another. Humanity was a blanket term for every person in existence and were little more than vermin to them.

Luckily this also helped narrow down what exactly he was dealing with by fair amount.

Finnrick planted the cane in the ground and took a step towards to whatever this was.

“You come closer?” The man’s head lolled back and forth as he tilted curiously.

“Yep!” Finnrick flexed his fingers threateningly

“Whatever for?”

“I can’t beat your shit in if I’m too far away.”

It was eerie how lifeless the man’s motions were: he threw his head back, letting lose a mockingly cold laugh while his body hung limp.

“By all means come as close as you like.”

Finnrick grinned mischievously “This is close enough.”

“Not for me.” The man’s jaw opened impossibly wide: There was a creaking like wood cracking, his arms bent in unnatural ways as the pure white of his eyes became clouded by inky black. A thick dark mist poured forth and Finnrick could see dozens of hands form in the vapor.

“Yeah no.” Finnrick shook his head too disgusted by what he saw “Don’t like that.”

Finnrick raised his free hand, eyes glowing with blue arcane energy. Runes formed around his fingertips as he bellowed with a confidence he pretended to possess “Ventium Forte!”

The runes expanded into a thin circle, violently spinning as a fierce rush of air flowed out of Finn’s hand and into the narrow alleyway. The man’s face broke into an unnatural snarl while the mist was buffeted backwards. It blended into the shadows which did not sway under Finn spell.

So that explains the whole spooky shadows at 4 PM. Whatever the darkness that filled the alley was tied to whatever was attacking him. Either a response to its presence or directly tied to the beings power.

Which meant it was an older entity. The older the being, the more attune to the universe it became and the more powerful it was.

Which meant sustaining this powerful wind spell would not work out in the long run.

The man hissed and growled like raging animal but couldn’t gain any ground towards Finn at the moment.

“I thought we were battling!” the man shouted with a hint of murder in his voice “yet you dare use cheap magicks to keep me at bay like a coward.”

Finnrick tried his best to keep his voice steady despite the considerable strain he was under keeping the spell going “I figured this would work much better than using my shield spells.”

“A battle between yourself and one of my kind no doubt.”

Finnrick nodded in agreement “Yeah. Inkwell was a bitch to fight against and I’m a firm believer of not repeating mistakes. Especially ones that could get me killed.”

“Inkwell? A distasteful name for one of my kind.”

“Well if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck I’m calling it Inkwell.” Finnrick gave a casual shrug.

“Wizard!” The man snarled without warning, smoky talons slashing at empty air all around him “You cannot hold me forever”

‘No shit.’ Finn thought to himself.

“You cannot keep him from me. I will find him wizard and I will render his soul asunder.”

Finnrick clicked his tongue thoughtfully “Right sure. Him. And I suppose he deserves it? Probably went back on his end of the deal?”

“YES!”

Finnrick flinched at the show power in this creature’s voice: Cracks formed on either side of the walls and pavement. The black inky mist thickened as more and more smoky hands began to claw their way out of the mist and began to inch closer despite the powerful wind.

Okay that’s not working anymore.

Finnrick eyed his surroundings, carefully taking in any and everything that could be useful.

The man’s jaw unhinged a little lower as he spoke “I will not be denied wizard. I will take what is mine. I will not be cheated!”

“Sure buddy but maybe we could talk about it?” Finnrick took a deep calming breath.

The man actually looked taken aback as if he’d been insulted in some way “There is no talking wizard! No more honeyed words, no more false promises. I will claim what is rightfully mine and not some secondary prize!”

Finnrick did not respond as the wind stopped without warning. The man tripped forward, the sudden lack of resistance sent him skidding to the floor. The mist, however, raced forward. Countless smoky hands grasp wildly at the air and they headed straight for the wizard.

Finnrick did not just stand there. He crouched actually.

He bent over, gathering as much dust and dirt as he could in the palm of his hand. He clenched his fist closed as he focused his magic. He whispered softly as the smoke closed in on him.

“Maxius’s Earthen Fist.”

Finnrick shot to his feet and threw open his palm, dust and dirt glowing with his magic. The debris formed a loose ring of earth around his wrist as the runes formed on a nearby brick wall. He arched back his arm before throwing the fastest haymaker punch he could muster.

The deadly mist was only half a foot way when the sound of crunching stone and mortar boomed in the alleyway. A fist made of pure brick, rebar and concentrate shot forward in between the detective and the smoke. The mist shrieked unhappily before retreating back towards the man who still remained on the floor.

The fist sunk back into the wall as quickly as it came out, dirt and dust falling away from Finnrick’s wrist as he broke the magical connection. Wizard spells were formed from both imagination and willpower. It was as much willing it into existence as it was seeing the spell in your mind’s eye with perfect and stunning clarity.

That’s why wizards possessed different names, materials and forms for what amounted to the basically same spell. Habit and memory were key components in successfully consistent spellcasting and every wizard was different.

Of course that didn’t mean there weren’t named spells. There have been many great deal of powerful wizards and it wasn’t uncommon for wizards to pass down their personal spells down in some way, shape and form. Spellbooks and hands on training were often how one learned these spells. Finnrick may have hated his time at Merlin’s Academy for the Magical Gifted but he did learn quite a few useful things.

Long history lesson short, Maxius was a wizard who specialized in earth magic. His favorite spell was his namesake Maxius’s Earthen Fist. Take a bit of earth (Dirt was preferred but any old earth would do) focus magic through the binding element constantly and viola a giant fist ready to beat the shit out of anything that came your way.

Finnrick knew better than to keep the spell going though. In a war of attrition this thing would just outlast him and he’d be nearly helpless without his magic.

Key word being nearly.

He reached back, blindly gripping the crow’s head of his cane tightly. The smoke had vanished into the shadows which gave Finnrick the chance to go on the offensive.

The detective let out a fierce yell, more to psych himself up than anything else. He pulled the sword hidden within the cane free and launched himself directly at the man.

The man winced at the sight of the silver blade, scrambling to his feet as the darkness receded further into the alley.

Finnrick noted this as he continued his charge. He slashed awkwardly at the man who narrowly managed to avoid the attack. Finn pivoted unevenly again and tried for another blow though once more the man backed further away, easily avoiding the blade.

“Not so tough now huh?” Finnrick mocked with a grin. He didn’t relax though.

The man hissed some more as the darkness surged closer without warning. The smoky hands formed once more but Finn was ready this time.

He gave one last mighty swing which caused both the man and the shadows to pause for a moment.

“Chicken.” he mumbled under his breath as he raised the shotgun. The black pupils turned white once more as the man’s face sagged in fear.

Finnrick didn’t hesitate.

Two loud roars of shotgun fire filled the narrow alleyway. The man flew backwards, tumbling across the floor like a lifeless doll. The shadows shrieked violently as Finnrick was flung back from the force of the recoil.

He dropped both weapons and scrambled to his feet in time to see the man vanished into the thick shadows, white steam pouring from his chest. There was a pop and then silence.

Finnrick waited a moment before raising his hand, a spell’s name waiting on his lips.

It wasn’t necessary though as within a few minutes the thick shadows of alleyway slowly dissipated revealing nothing but random trash and dumpsters.

Finnrick sank to the floor, allowing his body to relax and the exhaustion to wash over him. He sighed in relief as he rubbed at his eyes tiredly with only one thought on his mind.

“What the actual fuck.”

Statement, not question.

#original story #Original Work #Mirror's Edge

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ask-de-writer · 8 years ago

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ONE WAY? (Part 1 of2) a Bizarre Border fantasy

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to the BIZARRE BORDER

ONE WAY?

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

4845 words

Written 2008

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, Fiction, Art, Misic, Cosplay or other things are actively encouraged!

///////////////////////

There was this great light. I felt myself drawn toward it almost irresistibly. It was that almost that got to me. I resisted. I simply didn't want to die just yet. For one thing, I was very interested in exactly who had just punched my ticket for a ride on the One Way Express.

I tried to climb down the Silver Cord that still led back to the old corpus. No dice. Hum, - I looked at how it was attached and knew at once just why climbing down the outside of it, like a rope, didn't work. It was like a stretchy tube. I tried pushing myself down the inside of it.

In seconds, I was only feet above what was left of me. Ugh. Shotgun from behind, through the mid-section at close range. Near instant bleed-out. What steamed me wasn't even being shot from behind, though that did tend to indicate exactly what sort of rat's ass did the deed. It was the particular rat's ass who'd pulled the trigger that set what little blood was left to boiling. Stupid ol' Al Rankin was there with a smoking shotgun, doing an idiot victory dance.

He'd apparently hid back of the feed shed and stirred up my chickens with a rattlesnake. They set up a particular type of fuss when a snake gets into their run. I came out with my pistol to take care of the nuisance and Al nailed me as I went by. Damn him, literally.

From what I knew of physiology, the muscles could still move for a while, even without blood. Anaerobic cycle they call it. Brain was off line due to lack of blood pressure but nerves could still fire. Since my consciousness was now outside my body, that might not be as much of a problem as usual. I reached in and tweaked. Arm moved.

Great. I shifted my arm to put my hand on the pistol butt. Slow pull and I had it. Felt really heavy, too. Still, I took my time and got it lined up. I had to do the sighting from where I was, above the body. My body's eyes pointed the wrong way and didn't work all that well. I tried them. The squeeze was nice and even. With the odd angle, recoil was a bitch. I could live with that. Joke there.

Shot just below the heart but through the descending aorta, Al dropped like a string cut puppet. His look of surprise was all that I could have hoped for. I could hear him screaming in rage as he vanished up the same kind of cord I'd been in.

Been in? I checked about. Mine stopped where I was. Didn't go up to the light any more at all. Me and my body, seemed about it. That could be bad. I reached in to see if I could do anything besides fire nerves.

Damn. I could move scraps of my damaged flesh. I put parts back together. They would stick if I did it just right, which wasn't all that easy at first. It was a lot like sewing by hand. There was a bunch of parts missing or so messed up that I couldn't fix them properly. Still, it wasn't that bad a job. Seen field surgery in the military that looked worse.

I dragged myself inside and started to drink a ton of liquids. They absorbed OK, I guess. I began to feel my carcass as the sensory nervous system came back on line and started to do damage reports. That wasn't fun, believe you me. The headache was horrible and it was only the beginning of my hurts. If this was what Necromancy felt like to the resurrected, it was no wonder that the dead were testy and only wanted to kill off the sorcerer so that they could stop hurting. It had to be a SIN to inflict this on somebody else. Made suicide look real attractive. Both the worst and the best of it was that I did this to myself.

Even though I was now back inside my carcass, I realized that I was still wrapped in my little silvery cocoon. I reached down to see how my repairs were coming along. Pretty good, really. Some of the missing parts were actively regenerating and other bits looked like they were thinking about it. I did some more tweaking and most of the rest of the pains began to recede. Not the damn headache, though. Recognized its source and there was not much to be done there, yet. Anoxia just is. Enough new blood and proper circulatory fluid would take care of it in time. If my brain didn't die first.

Prodding things showed me that the brain was still functioning, if badly. I decided to deal with that later. Right now, I needed to fake up a pair of near misses with that buzzard cannon of Al's and call the sheriff's office.

I looked at my shirt close and realized that I had powder burns on the back. The entry wound was still pretty raw and on the muscle ridge to one side of the spine, so I left it alone. Front was a bloody mess, all dirtied and my shirt was torn up by my crawl to the house. I left the raw meat of the wound surface showing, but pried it about some at the edges with a kitchen knife. Set some bloody pellets from the shot charge on the table for the reason.

Al's old monster was a twelve gage double gun and both barrels were fired when I looked. Didn't bother with shifting my body, just went out in my closed circuit cocoon to see what I needed. Interesting. It was so easy to do, now. Idly I wondered if that would last.

I called the Sheriff. It was still a pain to move but things were getting better. My breathing and heartbeat were now automatic and stable. It made the call lots easier. I had to redial twice before I got the number right. Memory was fine but my recoil banged up hand and fingers kept missing the keys.

When Deputy Bernard answered, I just said, “Bernie, this is Josh Marks. Get someone out here quick. End of North Mountain road. I've been wounded and Al Rankin is dead. Need an ambulance and the M.E. Fast.” While Bernie was trying to grill me for details, I dropped the phone onto the table and let the ol' carcass hit the floor with a meaty thump. I could still hear Bernie trying to raise me and calling units to investigate.

It took a lot of time for the first Deputy to get out here because I live a long way out. Keeping close tabs on things from my silver cocoon perch, I let my body pass out. Once it was unconscious, I used those recently found ghostly fingers and faked a stray pellet to the spleen to explain the problem. I could sort of float around and watch while the Deputy and his back up, who got there six minutes after him, sorted out the action.

Deputy Redd pulled back my shirt for evidence photos and found the “entrance wound” of the pellet. He probed it lightly with a thin rod and took a picture. Then he called Bernie on the radio and said, “Tell the ambulance to floorboard it! It looks like a spleen hit!”

Altogether, it was a merry little private circus.

I slid inside and went into sleep mode. I woke up in the hospital with Deputy Redd there by the bed. He smiled when he saw me open my eyes. He said, “This is unofficial because you are still under the influence of anesthesia. Do you remember any of what happened to you?”

“Some, Deputy. Not a lot. I heard my chickens make their rattlesnake fuss and took my pistol to check it out. Don't normally like to kill the snakes but trying to catch them alive in the hen yard is dangerous for the birds. I caught a movement out of the tail of my eye and turned just as the fricken shotgun went off. I think it caught part of my back. Not sure. I was bringing up my gun when the second shot went off. I know I caught some of that. I returned fire and saw the man fall. I fell over, dragged back to the house and tried to call Dispatch. I woke up here.”

Deputy Redd nodded, “Squares fairly well with what we know. Looked like you took two grazing hits. A stray pellet damaged your spleen. Doc says you got no business being alive at all. You had almost no red cells left. Or any other blood cells for that matter.

“Do you know who it was that you shot?”

I shook my head as if confused and said, “Makes no sense. I thought I saw Al Rankin but there's a protective restraint order on him to keep him away. I caught him in the act of vandalizing my property last month and had him run in for it.”

Dryly, Deputy Redd replied, “I remember. I picked him up and I served the order. By the by, you are right. It was him. If it helps, you are in the clear on this. Won't even need a Grand Jury, thanks to the order. He was in violation, with a firearm. You could have shot him on sight, without warning just for that.”

My body tired, just from the short exchange, I said, “Thanks, Deputy Redd. I think that I'm going to sleep again. I'm sort of sore, too. I think the surgery site hurts more than getting shot did.” I closed my eyes.

As soon as he was gone, I checked something. I was still able to get loose from my body in that silvery cocoon thing. I picked up a bar of soap on the washstand. Then I turned on the faucet. After filling a glass and setting it on my bedside stand, I turned off the water. It was easy. My ghost or astral form or whatever seemed to be plenty strong.

I pried my body's eyes open and looked. The glass was there on the bedside stand. With water in it. I could even see my ghostly body, right beside the bed. Seeing from two places at once like that nearly made me hurl, which would have been bad for the surgery site. Speaking of, I closed my body's eyes and got busy doing the kind of fix that I'd done out on my property, after Al shot me. This time, I had plenty of good blood and it was a help, believe me. Bless whoever dreamed up safe transfusions.

I was just shutting my eyes when, like the bad penny that he was, Al Rankin turned up at the foot of my bed. He began a horrid, ghostly wail of, “You murdered me, you bastard! Now I'm here to haunt you to the end of your days!”

I guess that it was supposed to be terrifying. I was pissed instead. I stepped free of the old corpus and demanded, “WHO murdered WHO, Al? I seem to remember two barrels full of seven and a half shot from BEHIND ripping through my body. I killed you right after that little disruption. Now go away, you lying asshole.”

Now it was Al who was pissed. “You are Damned, Marks! I was sent to drag you to Judgment! Nobody mortal can live through . . .” his ectoplasmic eyes went wide as he realized exactly what he'd just said.

While he was yapping his bit, I got close and grabbed his arm at wrist and shoulder. I ripped it right off. Guess having a live body made my ectoplasm stouter stuff than his. I slugged him alongside the head with his own arm hard enough to blast his head against the wall like a baseball, except that it splatted and oozed to the floor. Since I knew that both of us could go right through walls and such, I found it entertaining to watch. Apparently, Al's lifetime habit of running into solid objects was betraying him in the afterlife. I grabbed both his head and arm and shoved them up his ass, literally.

Then, I stomped him right down through the floor, which grew a red, glowing circle around him as he fell. It was a long fall to what looked for all the world like fire at the bottom. Al and the circle vanished. I went back to my body and back to sleep.

When I woke up, Deputy Redd was sitting by my bed, a pistol prominent at his hip. The nurse was shaking me awake. She said, “Time to change your dressing, Mr. Marks.”

As she was getting busy going snippy-snippy with the scissors, I asked Deputy Redd, “Why the gun? Aren't you off duty now?”

He nodded, “I am but sometimes things happen that are more important than time clocks. Both of the surviving Rankin brothers had to be turned away from the hospital. They had big hunting knives, wood stakes and a hammer. They were ranting about you being a witch-man or some sort of undead. Said that you couldn't be alive because Al centered you with his shotgun.”

While the nurse was staring in consternation at my surgical wound, I asked, “How the hell would they know that unless they saw it? It didn't happen that way. Don't think so, anyway.”

Deputy Redd nodded a bit grimly, “There's several things about this case that don't add up right. That's one of them. They do seem to know too much. Another is the amount of blood that you lost at the scene. That's backed up by the blood count they did in the ER.”

The nurse put in, “This wound is another. I need to get Dr. Hillstrom in here right away to document this!”

/////TO BE CONTINUED/////

#ONE WAY?#Part 1 of 2 #Bizarre Border #written by De Writer

11 notes · View notes

doedipus · 8 years ago

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LP D&D: The Gang Experiences Some Personal Growth

Hey all. Here’s the first sessions’ worth of notes, for your amusement. Originally, it was in a vaguely orderly bulleted list, but I guess tumblr doesn’t like the way google docs formats shit like that, and it came out all messy. Hopefully this isn’t too messy to follow or anything. The notes aren’t perfect, and I’ve included some comments to explain minor things from previous sessions that weren’t in the plot synopsis. They’re marked with “//,” because bold and underlined text is ugly and I italicize stuff a lot already. Fuck you, programming is cool.

Anyway, content is under the break. Enjoy~

Rolen and Escrima clear up some details with Rocky about planescape and vampires.

Coy asks Rocky to hang on to the giant diamond, Rocky shows us his sick-ass vault. //Coy was able to extort a diamond the size of your head out of the child dragon we ran into back at Candlekeep.

The vault has everything of value in the multiverse

Narcovi reeeeally wants us to go to Sigil. There’s a portal in an abandoned warehouse. //For a couple sessions, Narcovi had been telepathically pestering Escrima from beyond the plane.

Coy looks around for the other dragonborn guy. He decides against being a cool guy on the chandelier.

Escrima wants to whisper something in Coy’s ears. Coy reminds him that he doesn’t have ears.

“But then how do you hear??”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

JP reminds the players to get their shit off the boat before it leaves. //I talk about over-the-table stuff a lot in the notes. JP is the name of the DM, “the players” refers to the people playing the game, and not the characters, and I listed the player names next to the characters they play in the intro post.

Greg wants to wait behind for Lucas. //This session and the one where Lucas goes to meet Gandalf were supposed to happen simultaneously in the game world.

Akim thinks the displacer cub is the greatest thing since sliced bread. //Coy bought a displacer beast cub a couple sessions prior because ???

Sometimes he fails his roll to pet because he has disadvantage.

Escrima wants to take Akim to Sigil, presumably to kill off any competition for the role of “party child”

Coy struggles with his role as a teen parent. He gives Akim a bell to ring if he needs help

“You’re a cow now!” - Escrima

Escrima is amazed that fish don’t have ears, and apparently tongues.

Coy pushes Akim off the boa- I-I-I mean, onto the docks, obvs lol

Rolen feeds Lupe the Wyvern

He sees some guys enter the brothel. They’re probably Graham’s family, but we don’t know that, that’d be metagaming!

Construction is well underway on the roof

Lupe learns “Strike!” The dragon drumstick is consumed.

Coy milks the Wyvern.

COY DON’T PISS ON THE PORTAL

Coy is indignant about the implication. //I forget exactly what happened, but I think Coy had to take a leak on the portal we returned from Sigil through after our first journey there or something. I wasn’t there for most of that session, so whatever.

PVP occurs

Escrima gets a message from mother that makes him unbearably sad.

He uses Coy as a shoulder to cry on, but Coy pushes him away

Escrima latches on to Connie

Rolen casts “sanctuary,” requiring Escrima make a WIS saving throw.

NAT 20 HOLY SHIT

He now thinks Connie is Mother for a minute

Coy and Rolen bounce out

Much mumbling and sobbing occurs

“HAPPY MOTHERS’ DAY” //IIRC, this session took place on Mothers’ Day 2016

Once he’s finished, Connie cleans both of them

Coy and Rolen saw a glowing flash from outside the warehouse due to this.

The portal wants everyone to think of bunnies

Escrima thinks of an eldritch monster he believes is a rabbit. The portal thinks about it, but lets him through.

Coy fails to use the portal at first, causing a car outside Kim’s house to honk its horn. Then he goes through like normal.

Escrima still thinks Akim would like it in Sigil. A passing devil makes Coy think otherwise.

Coy has trouble adjusting to the geometry/civilians/architecture/LOP of Sigil. What a berk!

Escrima lets Narcovi know that Coy suffers from kleptomania. Narcovi is not pleased.

Connie enters the portal. Narcovi thinks her dress is hot.

The gang is out by the hall of speakers in the clerk’s ward.

Narcovi tells us we’re her last hope.

Crazy Eyes has evaded capture since the party engaged him.

She introduces her captive, Brektol. He’s here for a plea bargain.

He’s a member of the Keepers of the Source, the organization that spawned Crazy Eyes.

Crazy Eyes is hiding out in Ecstasy.

There’s a portal in the mess hall, near where the “””brothel””” was. //During the first Sigil trip, Rolen and Escrima went to a brothel. Being Sigil, it was not a brothel, but a place where people mind-melded for fun.

The portal will only last for about 16 hours.

Narcovi warns the party that nothing gets done in Ecstasy.

Rolen tries to twist Narcovi’s arm to get a more stable portal home.

...But she’s not having it.

Rolen strokes her ego with a crit.

She gives in.

Narcovi was accompanied by that one guy who the party saved from the muggers

Coy’s existential crisis continues

Rolen and Escrima attempt to demonstrate that gravity still works

But this doesn’t help.

The gang suggests that he carry Connie around as an anchor. Connie begrudgingly agrees.

Escrima tickles Coy to try and make him drop Connie because he’s a dick

But nothing happened

Coy realizes Connie is a tiefling. Who knew! //Connie can cast the spell “disguise self” at will, and basically always makes herself look like a human to avoid prejudice. ‘Course, being Sigil, nobody cares about that, so she dropped it.

He establishes dominance by reminding her that his tail is bigger.

The gang enters the portal to Ecstasy.

Everything is disturbingly serene.

They’re met by a halfling that’s probably stoned.

#personalgrowth //During his dialogue, he said the phrase “personal growth about 10 times

Ecstasy is on the outer plane. There’s a pretty good view of the spire & sigil behind the halfling.

The village is fairly small. Lots of plinths and fields.

Hey bruh, have you heard the good news about personal growth?

PROFILING START

Escrima asks the halfling about the murders in a roundabout way, and gets a roundabout answer.

The guy at the inn probably knows something

Coy walks through a portal to Elysium, derailing JP

Elysium is not!Mount Olympus.

He has all the dosh again.

Coy doesn’t wanna leave because Elysium.

#personalgrowth

Coy goes “looking for trouble,” as he is want to do.

Elysium is a pretty nice place, though, so there isn’t much trouble to be had

He calls over a passing CR 35 angel to chat

The angel throws his ass out at a speed of about C/11

Coy has an epiphany of life and his place in the universe.

Coy gains inspiration!

More PVP!

Coy rejoins the party.

Escrima mimics the voice JP used for the angel.

Coy attempts to clock him good

But he misses

The gang enters the inn, the impulsive dabus

It’s a gay bar, of course.

One of the patrons has some cool armor with runes on it.

Coy thinks the tiefling bartender is the hottest man alive

Barkeep has had too much personal growth for that, or so his ring finger shows.

The gang asks barkeep about the murders

The victims:

Baldod, cleric of Moradin and his merry band.

Probably on some kinda pilgrimage

Female Fraternity of order member

A Sigilese human man

The bodies had 7, 8, and 9 lacerations, probably the cause of death.

Apparently, there’s a festival involving plinths and #personalgrowth coming up

Barkeep gives us room keys

Ecstasy wine is pretty great

Bartender talks about the festival and the preparations thereof

A bard named Trolen used to bring a lot of business.

He went off with some crackpot Lady Of Pain worshipper, came back and built a temple to the LOP

And now he’s spreading the gospel to the nearby towns.

Cool armor guy interjects

Trolan is in Xaos (pronounced Chaos), preaching to the people in Sigil

There’s a portal there in the Hive “district” in Sigil

The gang investigates the rooms of the victims

There’s partially used spell components all over

Crazy eyes is bad at magic, apparently.

There’s a pamphlet advertising the church of Trolan

There’s some blood on it, crossing out Trolan’s face

Crazy Eyes really hates Trolan’s guts

Trolan was in an asylum with Crazy Eyes. they escaped at the same time

The party visits Trolan’s LOP temple

Marble statues of Trolan and LOP adorn the main hall.

A priest is giving a sermon on how great Trolan and the LOP are

Crazy eyes is in the building

The party tries to approach him carefully

Rolen’s double nat 20 saves us

Crazy eyes is hovering over a cleric

He starts yelling at her to worship him instead of the LOP

MURDER

Battle versus Sougad Lawshredder, Believer of the Source!

Crazy Eyes calls the party out, attacks the cleric

She survives, barely.

Connie uses sending to contact Narcovi

Coy polymorphs into a bat and charges. //Coy has a magic item called the cloak of the bat. it lets the user fly or turn into a bat, but only in dim light

Coy realizes the building is on fire!

The upper floors are all on fire

Cleric manages to get some distance from Crazy Eyes

Rolen uses the ebony fly to move to the cleric //Another magic item. It’s basically a flying mount that shrinks down to pocket-size when not in use

Sougad is rolling poorly today, and is unable to to kill the cleric

The ceiling is collapsing! Chunks of flaming debris fall on the combatants!

The cleric is crushed by the rubble, dead

Rolen tries to pin Sougad, but fails.

Sougad performs a ritual on the cleric.

He carves 10 cuts into her body.

Crushes some spell components.

Absorbs her soul.

Strikes a pose. //Crazy Eyes is basically a Jojo villain.

As Sougad flaunts his new arcane power, a giant boulder falls from the roof onto his head, crushing him.

The temple collapses into a pile of dust and debris.

The gang tries to talk to some of the surviving worshippers

Trolan wants his followers to go to his church in Sigil

Coy warns against this, saying something about being an avatar of a god or something, but his pleas lead to no avail.

Escrima realizes that the worshippers are under some kind of spell.

Apparently a bard spell.

Narcovi asks for the party to return to Sigil when Sougad is dead

He’s probably dead, but there’s no time to clear out the “cubic shitton” of rubble to confirm.

INTERMISSION

JP has some kind of french junk food that’s like a turkey nugget with cheese in it

Also potato wedges

Narcovi arrives on the scene, wondering about why the building is destroyed

#personalgrowth, obviously

Narcovi wants us to investigate the godsmen. They may have sprung Trolan and Sougad.

The gang returns to Sigil, having grown a lot personally.

Coy is terrified of the geometry still, hugging against constanza.

Minor PVP

Rolen lies about someone flipping Sigil over at dawn

Coy is not amused

Spits a bit of acid at Rolen

Coy cringes as he didn’t actually mean to hit him

Shopping ensues

Escrima wants a tattoo real bad

The artist is a mind flayer, because Sigil

Coy considers something for a second and then decides not to.

Escrima wants an “I love mom” tattoo

In gradient

Comic sans

Tramp stamp

In celestial

Coy’s sense of design philosophy is crushed.

Coy wants to go to a “Body Sculptor”

A tiefling named Amasha runs a true polymorph shop.

HEY GRAHAM

-1500 gp from the party funds.

Coy is MTF, and has a bit (read: metric tonne) of work done.

She can probably use the broom now.

Armor doesn’t fit great anymore, and thus she is left completely naked.

She borrows a towel from Amasha

#personalgrowth4real

Escrima wants his pinky toes to be ~10x larger

...but everyone sandbags him.

Escrima takes a moment to show off his new tattoo to some passers-by

Some are intrigued, and touch his butt. Some even pay him for showing it.

The Dabuses are still malfunctioning, and the city is in disrepair

The gang returns to the Amarak embassy to check on US

Inexplicably, the building seems to have been restored.

US are very busy rats

...But they still have time for their old friends

US’s room is a goddamn rat metropolis

Coy is a bit disturbed by US

Everyone else greets them like an old friend

They’re preparing a massive amount of goods for export to the material plane

US is very good with both numbers and words

They like Escrima’s tattoo, think everyone else should get one too.

Narcovi enters the embassy, is confused in a general sense

It’ll be about a week before the rubble gets excavated.

She thinks we’re cool guys.

The gang enters a trinket shop looking for anti-vampire weapons

Coy finds a garlic necklace, but is told it won’t do anything.

Coy tries to be intimidating, but she’s barely tall enough to peek over the counter

Rolen buys a shady trinket that probably doesn’t work

“We’ll be back if it doesn’t work.”

Coy leaves half as much money as she wanted, and bolts

There’s 15 goddamn minutes before the portal closes, and all Coy can think about is clothes //”AS SHE IS CLUTCHING A TOWEL, RUNNING THROUGH THE STREETS” -Max, justifying wasting time

Shopkeeper's name is Gilmore //”copyright Matthew Mercer I steal things shamelessly” -JP

While comparing her options and showing them to Rolen she drops her towel accidently and shows Rolen ‘everything’. //futa

Rolen doesn’t really respond, other than saying ‘I dunno they um, both look ok’

Coy asks if he thinks the Trinity style would be a bit tight.

Rolen again says “Um, yeah sure”

Coy gets a flowing gown because--

GUYS THERE ISN’T TIME FOR THIS

The gang tries to find a tacky tourist shop, but comes up dry //I want a shirt that says “I a🚪 Sigil” both in and out of character

The portal home requires the party to think of the inverse of a bunny

Coy thinks about wolves

Connie thinks about crocodiles

Escrima can’t think of anything

Rolen thinks “tibbar” while holding Escrima, and they both get through.

Everyone gets a level

#personalgrowth

END

#let's play #dungeons and dragons #d&d #d&d 5e

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mikemortgage · 6 years ago

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Support strong for Guaido in devastated Venezuelan oil city

MARACAIBO, Venezuela — Venezuelan opposition leader Juan Guaido has met obstacles at nearly every turn since he declared presidential powers in a bid to end socialist President Nicolas Maduro’s rule, and his visit to this once-thriving oil centre was no different.

He was forced to take a boat to outmanoeuvr police roadblocks and reach throngs of supporters waiting to hear him speak in the sweltering heat in Maracaibo, a city now infamous for its blackouts.

Security forces had blocked the bridge across Lake Maracaibo just as Guaido arrived on Sunday. Undeterred, the 35-year-old opposition leader and his entourage boarded a private boat and sped off across the water.

While Guaido has gained backing from the United States and some 50 other nations, Maduro remains firmly entrenched nearly three months into the struggle for control of Venezuela. Guaido has been stripped of his immunity and faces the looming threat of arrest — something he warned would be a “big mistake.”

“It would only deepen the crisis,” Guaido told The Associated Press as the boat crossed the choppy waters. “The consequences would only hurt the regime.”

Maracaibo, Venezuela’s second-largest city of 1.5 million where refineries that once hummed with constant activity have fallen into disrepair, is a window into a nation that has plunged into chaos.

The power has returned for most of Venezuela after a massive electrical grid failure that blanketed most of the country’s 30 million residents for days starting March 7. But Maracaibo hasn’t bounced back.

The city is a crumbling version of its former self. Gushing oil wells that helped make a nation with the world’s largest oil reserves flush with cash have given way to broken-down oil platforms that sit idle as nearby shores are black with oozing crude.

Maracaibo has endured rampant blackouts for more than a year, leaving residents of a city where temperatures regularly reach 100 degrees without air conditioning and refrigerators, spoiling food. In the streets, residents spend hours searching for water, and schools barely open.

Frustration spilled over for several days in mid-March, with mass looting by mobs that overran shopping centres sacking 523 stores — many of which have not reopened their doors.

Residents say they live in fear of a serious illness or injury. Doctors in the main emergency hospital tell patients to bring their own water to clean wounds and even the most basic items like aspirin are lacking.

Guaido’s first visit to Maracaibo since declaring presidential powers on Jan. 23 comes at a time when he seeks to tap into popular frustration and anger to re-energize his campaign.

Some fear he’s leading yet another fatally stalled opposition movement unable to break free from Maduro. Guaido has failed to win a critical mass of the armed forces away from Maduro or bring in international shipments of humanitarian aid.

The masses of supporters who flooded the streets in the capital, Caracas, immediately after Guaido declared presidential powers aimed at toppling Maduro have begun to wane.

But in Maracaibo, a historic opposition stronghold, he was met Sunday by thousands who turned out at a series of rallies to hear him speak even as his voice turned hoarse. Several thousand followers waited more than four hours in the middle of one of the city’s main avenues.

The visit came as pressure on Guaido is only tightening. The National Constituent Assembly, stacked with Maduro loyalists, withdrew Guaido’s parliamentary immunity earlier this month, opening the path to prosecute and arrest him for allegedly violating the constitution. Days earlier Guaido’s chief of staff was jailed as an accused terrorist.

Guaido said he has urged his international backers to adopt a stance of “zero tolerance” toward Venezuela’s rampant corruption and the mismanagement of its resources.

Maduro boasts support from Russia, China and Turkey, but Guaido dismissed that as “more of a show” than having any substance amid Venezuela’s crisis. Guaido refuses to negotiate with Maduro.

“There’s no possibility of a dialogue with Maduro,” Guaido said. “He’s the problem.”

Given the fading anti-government protests and the opposition’s refusal to open a dialogue with Maduro, the option of some sort of U.S. military deployment — starting with efforts to bolster humanitarian aid deliveries to Venezuela — has been gaining strength, especially among some figures in Washington.

“It is becoming clear that we will have to consider the use of American military assets to deliver aid,” Florida Sen. Rick Scott said last week at the American Enterprise Institute in Washington. “Maduro and his thugs have left us no choice.”

The Trump administration is determined to see Maduro removed from power, preferably through diplomatic and economic pressure. The White House has slapped dozens of officials in Maduro’s government with financial sanctions and targeted Venezuela’s oil industry, its most important source of revenue. But while White House officials have repeatedly warned that “all options are on the table,” no plan appears to be in place backing up the tough talk.

Reaching the other side of Lake Maracaibo, Guaido hit another police roadblock. His entourage abandoned their cars and turned to local residents to help them navigate around backroads.

Guaido spoke at several rallies, urging Venezuelans not to give into Venezuela’s collapsing public services. Rather, he said, they need to keep the protests alive throughout the country, rejecting Maduro’s government.

“We’re not going to bend our knees — if that’s what they tell us to do,” Guaido said, as the mass of people cheered in support. “Yes we can!” they shouted.

——

Fabiola Sanchez on Twitter: https://twitter.com/fisanchezn

from Financial Post http://bit.ly/2GopXWl via IFTTT Blogger Mortgage Tumblr Mortgage Evernote Mortgage Wordpress Mortgage href="https://www.diigo.com/user/gelsi11">Diigo Mortgage

#IFTTT #Financial Post

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misterewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Masked Intentions (Solider, Poet, King. Genshin Impact)

Hey E here with a very special gift for my bestie MAE over at @hains-mae ! IT'S HER BIRTHDAY YAY! and naturally I had to write her a gift cuz she’s awesome and she makes epic art (Seriously go check it out it’s awesome!). This year, however, she chose Genshin Impact and I am honor bound to write it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAE WHEN YOU READ THIS!

Okay some author notes actually. Singing. I'm doing it again. So if it's Italics it's a single singer, Bold and Italics is a group of people singing. the song is Celtic Women's teir abhaile riu. It's a fast pace fun song I felt fit the setting of Genshin. I mean I don't play but still I know a strange amount of it based on second hand accounts. Anyway i hope it's not too confusing but I guess we'll find out haha.

Okay that's it for me. Be safe, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Wear a mask. Clean the mask. replace the mask if you've used yours forever (paper not cloth is better) get vaccinated if you can, push for world wide vaccination cuz fucking hell this is getting old. Keep an eye on Ukraine if you can mentally handle it. They're fighting tooth and nail for their home and they need everything they can get. Watch for misinformation since the Russian psyops are acting up again, double check sources, double check groups in case they're secretly shady and just watch. It's not okay what's happening and if you can't handle it and need to avoid, i understand. Have a great week and take care of yourselves please.

Here’s the chapter on the much more writer friendly https://archiveofourown.org/works/35657500/chapters/93514921

Here’s the first chapter I wrote for mae for Christmas! https://archiveofourown.org/works/35657500/chapters/88904083

And what’s this? my other works which include Arcane, Owl House, Soul Eater and, for lack of my usual modesty, a pretty decent original work? Whaaaaa

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Here’s a link to one of the version of the song because tumblr probably already shadowbanned me so why the fuck not?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-fFx-Edj2U

Here’s the keep reading sign, have a good one!

Summary: It's been dead end after dead end and Venti is no closer to discovering the machinations of Childe and Signora's plans. Left with little choice, Venti decides to get evidence right at the source: Childe. Attending a masquerade Venti attempts to slip the clue he needs right under Childe's nose.

-----

The sounds of laughter and music filled the air as the Windblume festival began proper. The streets were alive as people from all walks of life took to the streets to partake in the celebrations with nary a care for status or power. Beautiful wreathes of white flowers hung from every building with tender love and care as the festival colors blanketed the city like an endless ocean: Armbands, flags, flower crowns of varying shades of whites, blues and green as far as the eye could see and worn by any and everyone.

Venti had to admit it was nice to see the festival in person after being gone for so long. The Windblume festival was one of his favorite events and unfortunately did not hold the same weight outside Mondstadt. The smaller festivities he’d participated in were decent enough but nothing could compare to the majestic revelry only the city of freedom could muster.

He shook his head, shaking the carefree thoughts from within. As much as he would love to enjoy the festival in classic Venti fashion, there were work to be done.

He hated work.

Venti pulled his riding cloak over his frame, carefully making himself appear as small and harmless as he could manage. The guard glanced his way, a faint curiosity twinkling in his eyes as the bard drew closer.

Venit pulled his lips into a playful smile “Yes my good sir, is there an issue?”

“Sorry m’lord.” the guard gave a sheepish grin “I hadn’t expected you to stop. Most folks rather hurry inside instead to enjoy the show than make small talk with a humble guard such as myself.”

“I find everyone fascinating. As bard you never pass up a chance for a good story. Or better yet good gossip.”

“True that sir. Pardon my staring.”

The bard let a cherry laugh.

“Not at all my good fellow but I am curious. What catches your gaze?”

The guard mumbled awkwardly under his breath “Your mask.”

Venti couldn’t help but give a cheeky grin as he removed his mask and held it closer for the man to see. It was a white domino mask with two outstretched blue wings framing either side of the face. Unlike his Sprite mask, however, this mask was a poorer quality: The white was more egg shell than marble. The blue wings were less fairy and more avian in nature with a shade of blue that was just off enough to raise questions and of course minus one feather.

“Your local folktale!” he beamed proudly “The Windsprite that fought for the freedom of the great land of Mondstadt!”

The guard gave a polite nod “Well close enough m’lord. It’s...not quite correct if you pardon my saying.”

Venti frowned for a moment before putting the mask back on “Forgive me I am but a humble traveler to your lovely city. By the time I found out this event was a masquerade I had little choice for attire.”

As if to make a point, Venti pushed his dark green cloak open to reveal his choice of outfit for the evening. Unlike his usual elegance the bard had opted for a more modest appearance: A fine yet humble white tunic with a flowery pattern embroidered on its surface. A small dark green cape hung off his shoulder as his earthen brown dress pants were tucked into a pair of equally brown loafers.

“You look fine sir.”

“Thank you!” Venti gave a humble bow as he hid his frame beneath the cloak once more “I best be off. Have a good night kind sir.”

The guard nodded in response “You as well.”

------

The theater was as magnificent as last Venti laid eyes upon it.

It was an odd building forgoing tradition and sense for the sake of enjoyment: The building itself was circular in design and for a particular reason. The outer ring of the establishment was constructed of the finest wood with counters built into the railings angled just so for everyone to face the performers on the stage built into the far wall. Four floors tall meant plenty of people could sit back with a drink and join in the merriment. The inner ring, however, lay the smooth tile floor meant for the feet of happy dancing folks. Certainly not for the shy and easily embarrassed given how much the inner ring was exposed.

Venti currently sat upon a stool on the second floor, one hand clasped tightly around his cup of cider. He emptied his drink within seconds and slammed the mug onto the counter. Cheers rose from nearby patrons.

“TO YOUR HEALTH!” one boomed.

“TO YOUR JOY!” another yelled in response.

“MAY THE WINDS OF FREEDOM GUIDE YOU!” Venti shouted.

A fresh round of cheers went up as the clanking of mugs filled the air.

Venti’s bright smile did not match his eyes as he stared upon the inner ring: Aside from a pair of solitary figures having a rather hushed conversation not a soul could be seen. The band was set to take the stage in a few minutes yet Venti was no closer to a plan.

It had been years since last he saw Childe yet somehow the man looked the same as he did all those years ago: Tall with a lanky frame though toned with muscles. His orange hair was still short and choppy as ever. Though it was impossible to tell with that tacky and rather in poor taste red Fatui mask covering his face, Venti could still see those dull blue eyes in his memory.

Childe wore an outfit fit for a ruler which he pretended to be: A jacket darker than night with fine sliver threaded in refined patterns upon its surface. Black dress pants tucked into equally dark boots. He wore dark red collared shirt though he left the top unbuttoned and tieless. A blood red cape hung off him and made him as look as imposing as Venti knew him to be. Childe was one of the fieriest fighters he’d ever known with an unquenchable lust for battle.

His cloaked companion could’ve been any number of his underlings or even Signora herself yet from this distance Venti couldn’t be sure.

Not that it mattered. He was here for one thing and one thing only tonight.

Venti focused on his objective for the night: Hidden within Childe’s right pocket lay a notebook filled with the impostor's operations. It was neigh impossible to tail him given his status and Signora still hid in the shadows. Blindly groping in the dark led to only dead ends and frustration. If Venti was to have an idea how deeply entrenched Childe’s corruption lay in Mondstadt’s foundation he would have to be far more daring.

It wasn’t an ideal plan: Once picked no doubt Childe would note the disappearance of the item and run his operations to ground. He would be more guarded and less likely to make a mistake openly but it would give Venti the start he so desperately needed.

Of course that was under the assumption he could take the item without its owner’s notice. Each time a server approached from any direction, the orange haired brat had already raised a hand of dismissal.

What to do…..

Venti snapped out of his thoughts as a familiar sight graced his gaze.

The beautiful blonde haired princess entered and the bard could feel his heart skip a beat upon the sight of her.

Somehow she had been modest in their first meeting: Tonight she wore a gorgeous white strapless dress that went down to her ankles. A shimmering sliver sheer material covered her bare shoulders and neck while white leggings and flats completed the look.

She was beauty, she was grace! She was a seriously unneeded distraction. It took everything the bard had to pry his eyes away from her and not stare a moment longer.

“Though.” Venti murmured to himself as he noticed Childe’s eyes wandered for a moment as well “it seems like I’m not the only one who wishes to catch the princess’s eye.”

A thought occurred to him. An idea so daring and reckless that a wise man would’ve called the bard an utter fool for even thinking it.

Of course you were only a fool if it failed and as Venti wrote down instructions and handed the paper to a nearby waitress to pass along to the band, the bard had placed his gamble.

-----

Venti took his place near the steps to the inner ring when the steady, rhythmic beat of a drum began to fill the air. A moment later a violin joined with a shrill yet bouncy pulsing melody.

A pretty woman took the stage, her fellow singers standing behind at the ready. She took a deep breath as she waited for her cue from the instrumentation.

“Look how the lights of the town, the light of the town are shining now. Tonight I’ll be dancing around, I’m off on the road to Galway now!”

The others joined in. They took a step forward to take their place alongside with the pretty girl and singing their chorus in hush gossiping tones.

“Look how she’s off on the town, she’s off on the search for sailors though. There’s fine fellows here to be found, she’s never been one to stay at home.”

The chorus surrounded the pretty one, their voices teasing yet without malicious intent.

“Home you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ve work to do in the morning. Give up your dream of going away, forget your sailors in Galway.”

The group began to chanting the next lyrics in a language Venti didn’t recognize. They sang in the unknown language for a few phrases then the violin player took up the melody once more. They repeated the opening melodic line with more force and excitement.

Venti took it as his cue.

He grabbed around a pair of persons by their wrists, dragging them into the inner ring without warning. They protested but Venti paid them no mind.

“Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway, where there’s fine sailors walking the town and waiting to meet the ladies there.”

“What’s the big idea?” One huffed in annoyance.

“I rather not like being manhandled!” The other spoke with equal irritation.

“Either you dance with her or I will.” Venti gave an impish grin.

Before either could argue he vanished into the crowd looking for another victim.

“Watch now he’ll soon be along. He’s finer than any sailor so, come on pick up your spoons, he’s waiting to hear you play them! WOO!”

Venti noticed the longing gaze of a young wife. She sighed expectantly as her husband he chattered to some stranger to the side.

Venti paused for a moment, listening carefully for the man’s cadence.

“Honey!” the bard muttered with close impersonation of a husky voice “Would you grace me with a dance?”

The young woman shrieked with excitement “Yes my love!”

Venti watched with amusement as, with a grip unexpected of her size, the wife grabbed her husband by the collar and dragged him to the dance floor, completely ignoring his confused ramblings.

“Here today and she’s gone tomorrow and next she’s going to Galway. Jiggin around and off to town, and won’t be back till morning.”

The singers broke into the familiar unfamiliar chanting once more but Venti was far too focused on the task at hand. By the time the violin stepped up for their extensive solo Venti had tricked, coerced and otherwise encouraged more and more people onto the dance floor. What was once nothing more than Childe and his mysterious guest was now a dozen or so couples dancing without a care in the world.

Venti caught the grimace of annoyance on Childe’s smile. He muttered something to the cloaked figure and the pair began to make their away from the gathering crowd.

Venti followed suit, ignoring the pounding of his heart as the shrill shrieks of the violin grew more and more frantic. He drew closer, careful enough to not arouse suspicion yet not so fast to draw attention. He held his breath as he braced himself for impact.

Venti crashed against Childe with as much force as he could muster but also with the grace of a drunken buffoon. He pulled his hood down to ensure he couldn’t see his masked face.

“Sorry m’lord!” He apologized with a lisp “many apologies."

”Venti pivoted on his feet awkwardly as to get away when a hand clasped down on his shoulder, holding a firm grip on the bard.

The violin finished their solo, their strings now playing a soft thrum that cut through the playfulness of the room.

Venti glanced backwards to find the tasteless Fatui mask staring blankly at him. Childe held him tight and simply stared.

“M’lord?” Venti asked, letting some real unease into his voice.

Childe said nothing.

“Let him go.” the cloaked figure whispered as they realized some of the couples were starting to notice the commotion “Don’t make a scene. Not here.”

A moment paused yet Childe did not release his grip on the bard.

Another moment passed and as the singers took their place to resume the song Childe let go of Venti.

“Don’t do it again.” his voice was sharp with the promise of a threat.

Venti gave hurried nod and vanished into a crowd, clutching the notebook for dear life. It had worked! His half baked, poorly thought out plan had succeed! He was no fool, he was Venti and he was a gen…

“IT’S GONE! HE TOOK IT!” Childe’s voice boomed above the jovial sounds.

Venti could feel his heart slow to a crawl. Well turns out he was foolish after all.

He was tempted to burst into a wild sprint but such an idea would be terrible. Not only would he leave an obvious trail, the guards would respond to their lord’s wishes and it was a matter of time before Venti was caught without a place to run.

“Off with a spring in my step the sailors are searching Galway for, a young lady such as myself for reels and jigs and maybe more.”

Venti cut between a nearby couple, ducking out of sight before Childe could catch sight of him but he could hear the stomping of his pursuer close at hand.

It was a tense few moments of a wild chase between prey and predator: Venti would zig and zag, pivot around dancing couples and squeezed into any space no matter how narrow. He would double back and circle around and did everything he could to prevent Childe from pinning him down.

Childe, on the other hand, was relentless. Every time Venti thought he’d evaded the lord, he appeared without warning and barely gave the bard enough time to switch tactics. Even the slightest swish of his cloak would betray his position to the dull eyed hunter who inched closer and closer to his quarry with each passing drumbeat.

“Stay here and never you mind the lights of the town are blinding you”

He couldn’t keep this up. People were starting to question what exactly was going on and he’d soon lose the crowd’s cover as curiosity would bring all dancing to a halt. He needed to be bold once more or this would be for naught.

“The sailors they come and go”

Once he was certain he broke line of sight of Childe, he removed his cloak and threw it onto a nearby gentleman.

The gentleman was confused but before he could question what was going on, Venti had slipped into the crowd once more.

“but listen to what’s reminding you.”

Venti could hear the stomping of Childe nearby, his voice stiff yet held with barely contained violence. He questioned where the man had gotten the cloak. Within a moment or two the man would no doubt point him in Venti’s direction.

“Handsome men surrounding you.”

Venti glanced about. Nothing but quizzically faces wondering what exactly was happening.

He could feel the sweat run down the back of his neck as Childe’s footsteps thundered closer and closer. If he stayed here no doubt the gossiping eyes would give him away.

“Dancing a reel around you!”

“Then let’s give them something else to gossip about.” Venti muttered to himself.

He reached into the crowd with wild abandon and the moment his hand managed to find another, he pulled them in closer.

His eyes widened as instead of a random person like he was hoping for, he found himself staring face to face with the beautiful blonde haired princes. Her golden eyes narrowed with furious confusion.

“Beg your pardon?” she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

“Pardoned.” He said with a cheeky grin.

“Home you’ll go, and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ve work to do in the morning. Give up your dream of going away, forget your sailors in Galway.”

Venti quickly (but respectfully) placed his hand on her waist, drawing her closer. He began bouncing back and forth in an attempt to get the young woman to dance with him.

Lumine was not impressed by the brazen act by this stranger but before she could pull away from him, something caught her eye.

A figure, tall with refined black clothing appeared from the crowd wearing a red Fatui mask. Despite its smooth featureless surface she could tell he was looking for something.

Or rather someone.

“Listen to the music flow”

Lumine glanced back at the stranger who had grabbed her so rudely. Despite her unwilling to dance with him, the stranger wasn’t particularly forceful about it. While he did sway in an attempt to get her to move, he was very gentle and his hands did not wander.

“I’m falling for the flow of home”

She had no idea what she was thinking but just as the masked figure glanced their way, she began to dance. She swayed to and fro with the stranger and allowed him take control of their movements though she did not lower her guard.

“I’m home to dance till dawning”

Lumine was amazed how light on his feet this stranger was. She’d accidentally been swept up towards the inner ring when someone gripped her wrist and pulled in. Before she could utter a single world he gave a polite bow and disappeared into the gathering crowd. She was actually trying to escape out of the ring when this man had grabbed her for a dance.

“Forgive me princess.” the man muttered softly “I’m afraid I have other motives for this dance.”

Lumine paused. Something about his voice was so familiar yet it eluded her memory.

“Princess?” The man asked, unsure if he’d step too far “Miss?”

Lumine shook herself out of her stupor and she replied with a mocking tone “Oh really? I suppose men have other things on their mind than dancing with beautiful young women?”

The man let out a cheery laugh “So you are aware of your beauty princess.”

“Lumine.” She corrected him “And I have been told of my beauty. How much is truth and how much is desire remains to be seen.”

“Sharp mind and sharper tongue. Be still my beating heart.”

Lumine tilted her head curiously “What did you just say?”

Venti coughed “Nothing of importance.”

“Stay awhile and we’ll dance together, now as the light is falling. We’ll reel away till the break of day and dance together till morning.”

The music grew as the singers began to fervently chant louder and louder, the violin’s frantic yet joyful shrill growing with them.

Despite how this situation began, Lumine found herself enjoying the man’s presence: His step was graceful like she was dancing with the wind itself. His hands were firm yet gentle and they remained affixed to her hand and waist respectively. As they swayed back and forth lost in the melodic thundering of voices and instruments, she could feel her heart begin quicken at the sight of his carefree grin and quicker still with his wit.

“Dazed by my grace my fair Lumine?”

Lumine could feel her cheeks blush “I would give you an honest answer yet you do not need a bigger ego.”

“Your words wound me my fair Lumine.” The man let go of her for a moment to clutch at his chest.

“Dramatic to the last good sir?”

“Venti.” He replied with a cocky smirk “And I am nothing if not dramatic.”

“Venti?” she’d had heard the name before realization struck her “Wait! I know you! You’re the bard! The one who sang when you entered town.”

Venti let some of the surprise spill onto his face, his cheeks reddening as his voice dropped to a whisper “So you’ve heard of me fair Lumine.”

“W-well.” Lumine stammered cutely “It’s much less heard of you and heard you belting out at the top of your lungs.

Venti chuckled “I am a bard. If a bard does not sing, what use is he?”

“Well he could also tell a good story.” Lumine offered before letting a snicker escape her lips “Though I imagine your stories would be at best altered truths and at worst completely egotistical.”

Venti gave a bright grin “Wound me again yet still I remain.”

“You are rather daring or utterly foolish and I cannot hazard a guess as to which.”

“Foolishly daring I’d suppose.” he bit his lip thoughtfully “Or daringly foolish.”

Lumine giggled “Is there a difference?”

“I suppose not.” Venti answered honestly.

The song ended. The singers and instruments bowed to thunderous applause yet were lost to the pair as they still dance to an unheard song.

Venti was the first noticed excited chatter all around them.

“Fair Lumine, they have stopped.”

Lumine blinked questioningly. She looked to one side then another and when she found no one dancing, she turned a lovely shade of red.

“Ah.” She cleared her throat “I suppose your dance was not as horrible as I feared.”

Venti smiled yet did not release his hold on her “That was a compliment.”

“Do not push your luck.” Lumine threatened with a huff “No matter how silvered your tongue, you will mind your manners.”

“As you wish my lady.”

“Quite the dance you two.”

Venti and Lumine jumped in surprise at the new voice that joined them. They whirled around to find Childe standing there, the smooth featureless Fatui mask staring at them both.

“Do I know you?” steel entered Lumine’s voice.

“Of course you do!” Childe’s muffled voice replied.

Lumine blinked in confusion “Lord Childe?”

“That is I! Or rather me underneath this mask. You look quite beautiful. I take it the dress was to your liking?”

“Umm.” Lumine rubbed her arm awkwardly “It is nice my lord but I fear I cannot keep it.”

Childe chuckled “A gift is a gift. It would be rude to reject it. And whose your friend in the sprite mask?”

“Sprite mask?” Lumine answered but Venti paid her no mind. He released his hand from her waist and bowed respectfully.

“I am Venti! A wandering minstrel who seeks only the finest songs and finer cider.”

“I see.”

Lumine could feel the tension between the two, the air growing thick and cold as Childe’s voice took an empty tone.

“You are familiar to me.”

Venti gave a nervous laugh “I get that alot my good sir. Perhaps all us bards look the same.”

“No. You are familiar.” His voice replied darkly.

Silence fell over the trio and despite the happy chatter and lively noises filled throughout the room, Lumine could only feel the odd sense of dread.

Lumine sighed in relief as Childe took on his usual carefree tone “My guards will bring you back to the palace Lumine. Feel free to stay as long as you like or explore the town.”

He turned to Venti “You have the stance of a solider.”

Venti did his best to keep his face as straight as he could even though he wore a mask “I am but a humble bard.”

“Hmm. Do you carry a mighty sword o’humble bard?”

“Afraid I’ll tear your city down?” Venti couldn’t keep the threat out of his voice.

“No.” Childe answered truthfully “It’s not my city you’ll be tearing down.”

Childe left without another word, leaving Venti to stew over his words.

“Do you two know each other?”

Venti snapped out of his thoughts “No…no I don’t think so. He reminds me of someone I knew but I suspect he’s not around anymore.”

Lumine was not convinced by that answer but decided not to press the issue. She raised her hand still entwined with his “You may release my hand now if you please.”

“Oh my apologies fair Lumine. I just wanted to enjoy your touch for a moment longer but I shall never deny a lady a request.”

And with a dramatic flourish, he lets go of her hand and slips into a bow.

“By your leave.”

“Denied.”

Venti teetered uneasily, too off caught guard “Denied?”

Lumine nodded her head “Yes. I’m rather bored and you’re the first interesting thing that has happened to me all night.”

“I sense a but coming up.”

“I rather not turn in so soon. I’ve never been to a Windblume festival. You mentioned you were a bard yes?”

Venti gave quick nod, sensing a trap in her words.

“Then surely you’ve been to plenty of festivals. I can think of no better guide.”

“I’m being kidnapped.” Venti sad “This is an odd one for me I’ll admit.”

Lumine looped his arm in hers and leaned against his shoulder “Think of it as payment for me saving you from Lord Childe.”

“My dear that is how rumors start.”

Venti could feel his heart race at the sight of Lumine’s Chesire smile.

“Then let’s give the town something to gossip over.”

Oh boy was Venti in trouble. But he always liked a little trouble now and then.

#Genshin impact #Childe #Venti #Lumine #venti/lumine #Tartaglia

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mikemortgage · 6 years ago

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These are the eight sources of retirement income you need to know about

In RRSP season there is a lot of focus on your RRSP — surprise, surprise.

As most of you know, the RRSP will ultimately turn into a RRIF and be a key source of your income in retirement. What many people don’t always think about is other potential sources of retirement income.

In our work with retirees, we see up to eight different sources of funds that they can pull from to meet their monthly or annual expenses. Some are not thought of that often, but can become important. Not all will apply to everyone, but each one will be important to a segment of retirees.

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Without further ado, here are the eight sources of retirement income:

1. Government Pensions — CPP, Old Age Security (OAS), GIS. For some individuals this can be more than $18,000 a year. It can be even higher if delayed receiving until past age 65.

2. Your Investment Portfolios — RRSPs, RRIFs, TFSAs, Defined Contribution Plans and Non-Registered accounts. The key is to determine which ones to draw on and when to minimize taxes. It will be different depending on your age, your health, your relationship status, and your current and expected level of income.

3. Your Defined Benefit Pension Plan — You may be one of those who have a plan through your work that pays you a fixed monthly amount — that may or may not increase based on inflation.

4. Your Corporate Investment Account — If you have a Corporation, pulling money from here will likely be considered as ineligible dividend income, but could possibly be tax free due to the size of your capital dividend account or shareholder loans. Often there is an opportunity to use insurance for estate planning or even in some cases for Retirement Planning where funds can come out tax free.

5. Annuities — These are essentially lifetime GICs with a locked-in rate that becomes a monthly source of cash flow. They have been less popular due to low interest rates, but for those who bought Annuities thirty years ago and are still alive, they will definitely sing their praises as an option for retirement income.

6. Your Home — If you own a home you can use a Home Equity Line of Credit to draw down cash over time, or maybe a downsize or sale of real estate is a key source of funds for your retirement. In some cases it may even allow for rental income.

7. Insurance Policies — This is sometimes an option and usually a forgotten one. Policy holders can often access cash through the cash surrender value of a policy without hurting the core insurance coverage. Sometimes you can borrow against the policy, or for those in their 30s to 50s, you might even be able to take out a policy on your parents as a form of retirement planning.

8. Your Kids (or other family) — This is usually not a preferred option, but depending on your needs and the family situation, this can be an important source of income.

Behind each of these sources of income is often a fair bit of thought and planning to maximize the income in a tax efficient way. For example, some individuals want less income in retirement. They don’t need the cash flow and they want lower taxes. In that case, they may look to fund Insurance policies in order to lower annual income and increase the estate.

Another scenario is the person with a large RRSP who is in their late 50s or early 60s. A lot of thought might go into the idea of drawing down the RRSP meaningfully over the next 10 years, and delaying taking CPP and OAS until age 70. If they do this effectively, they may be able to receive full OAS instead of getting clawed back, and in addition, they will have a smaller RRIF balance when they die and will face less tax at the end.

Even your home has important retirement income questions. We see people who received full OAS for several years, and then they sold their home and decided to rent. They now have significantly more investment assets and taxable income than they did before selling the house. Suddenly their tax rate goes up and they lose their OAS. In these cases, much more effort needs to go into tax efficient investment, and possibly gifting some assets to family or charity earlier than through the estate.

To help with issues of Retirement Income I have seen a few great Canadian web tools.

The Government of Canada has a solid tool to help manage your Government Pensions.

A website called Savvy New Canadians has a fairly detailed overview of RRSPs, TFSAs, CPP and OAS.

And my firm TriDelta Financial recently put out the 2019 Canadian Retirement Income Guide which provides further insight into how best to manage your various forms of retirement income.

Just like the game of hockey is much more complicated than simply shooting at the net, remember that your retirement income is about much more than simply an RRSP or RRIF. There are hopefully many sources of income for you, but the more sources of income, the more complex some of the tax and planning issues become.

May your biggest challenge be figuring out income sources number one to seven, and not about how to ask for funds from number eight.

Ted Rechtshaffen, MBA, CFP, CIM, is president and wealth advisor at TriDelta Financial, a boutique wealth management firm focusing on investment counselling and estate planning. [email protected]

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