#Telegraph sessions

[mizgnomer]

David and Georgia Tennant

Photographed for The Telegraph by Kristina Varaksina

Promoting Staged Season 3

"The more time we spend together the more we get on" - [ link ]

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on. 

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense. 

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika. 

He also had his cursed technique. 

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.” 

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it. 

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out. 

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured. 

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?” 

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.  

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes. 

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely. 

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse. 

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence. 

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale. 

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there. 

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face. 

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out. 

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off. 

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips. 

Perfect, beautiful girl. 

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe. 

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts. 

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together. 

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

[clockwayswrites]

Have a bit of a fic I'm totally not writing that is 110% @mokulule's fault. If I were writing it, it would include:

Accidental (?) sugar daddy Jason

Secret Identity shenanigans

The goons researching polygamy to be supportive of their Boss' lifestyle and new partner

Danny 100% knowing Jason and Red Hood are the same person

Jason being completely oblivious to this fact

Danny being a little shit

But I'm not writing it. Really.

Edit: master post of parts I totally didn't write

-

"So," Danny started. His tone was purposefully casual in a way that made Jason pay attention.

Jason was starting to understand that when Danny was too casual, he was up to something. This seemed doubly true when Danny was talking to Red Hood. It was fascinating, really, how Danny acted more mischievous around the crime boss than his supposed boyfriend.

They were currently taking a break in their sparing session to let some of the other goons take the mat and for them to have a breather. The way Danny was stretching out his muscles to stay warmed up was really, really distracting. Jason crossed his arms to avoid reaching out and touching the sliver of skin at Danny's hip where his shirt rode up. Jason swore that shirt had not been in Danny’s closet before.

He should know, he’d been replacing most of Danny’s heinous wardrobe for weeks now as Jason and what was basically a crop top had not been on the list.

"I've heard some of your crew talking." (It was cute when Danny tried to use lingo.)

Jason tilted his head to show that he was listening. It was the downside of the Red Hood helmet that it often seemed he wasn’t paying attention, so he had long since incorporated a few exaggerate head movements to telegraph his intent. It was nice, though, that at the moment hid his blatant staring.

Danny tilted his head back. "And the word from them is that Jason is yours."

Jason froze, mind scrambling about where this could be going.

Nothing could have prepared him with predatory smirk that Danny looked up at him with. Or the other's next words. "So what are your thoughts on sharing?"

[sprintingowl]

How To Have Good Combat In Games Where The Combat Is Bad

I've been running 5e for about 50 sessions now. It does have some good points (like most big rpgs it encourages you to make a detailed character and dig into the fun of developing them,) but it also has bad combat.

Bad combat doesn't always mean a bad game, and what makes combat bad can differ from game to game. A lot of indie systems have bad combat because combat isn't their priority.

This isn't the case with 5e.

I'll go briefly into the reasons:

---It is common in 5e to spend a turn trying to do things, do nothing, and then end your turn

---The winning strategy in 5e, unless the GM specifically prevents it, is to do as much damage as possible as fast as possible

---Unique boss mechanics in 5e (Lair Actions, Legendary Resistances, save-or-suck effects) designed to counter the above issues instead amplify the problem

Other combat focused rpgs generally don't have these problems, but this doesn't mean that 5e (and low-combat indie games) are a lost cause.

You can still have good combat in games where the combat is bad, you just need to follow these principles:

---Ask Players To Make Choices (give them meaningful decisions. these don't have to be devil's bargains or involve rolls. do they rush to free the prisoners or chase after the zealots? do they stand in the center of a telegraphed AoE to achieve their objective now or do they wait until it's safer?)

---Give The Players Good Information (choices feel more random the less information the players have. skeleton ants will march from left to right across the arena, powering up the boss if they touch him. standing on blue tiles will switch the boss to arctic mode. hinting is fine, but you want the players to understand how a fight works so that they can interact with it)

---Crib Shamelessly From Videogames (without human-to-human roleplaying to compensate for the weaknesses in their design, non-ttrpg games that center combat need to make that combat at least interesting---and ideally good. MMOs telegraph attacks and turn fights into dances. SRPGs give rewards for focusing on side objectives. JRPGs start by saying "your attack hits" and give you a lot of different attack types to choose between)

If you're GMing in a system that doesn't have a lot of rules for combat, you can largely forget the third point, but never forget the first two.

You're breaching the house. Are you doing so safe or fast?

You're trying to subdue the werewolf. Do you care if he gets hurt? Are you willing to use things (poisons, a silver whip, tranquilizers) that might be traumatic for him?

Someone swings a club at you. Which bodypart do you use to shield the blow?

Any game can have fun combat if you work at it.

Of course, the question that follows is "should you?"

But I'm 50 sessions deep into a 5e campaign, so I can't answer that.

[xythlia]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ- mdni, sloppy blowjob, ball fondling, swallowing, face fucking, crying, taint, spit

› inspired by this <3

It's Nanamis breathing that gets you, not sharp or hard but the deep, rib expanding breaths he takes as your tongue swirls around the swollen, precum smeared tip of his cock.

You start slow, a gentle rhythm with one hand as you lick at his slit and the divoted flare of his head since he mentioned before it's a sensitive spot for him. Gingerly you hollow your cheeks, stretching your lips to their limit as he slides along the full length of your flattened tongue before brushing deep in the back of your throat.

You moan around him, mindful of the reverberation. Testing him, seeing just how long he can remain gentlemanly even when you're on your knees in front of him, is a favorite pastime of yours. Bracing your hands against his thighs you can feel how his muscles tense with every bob of your head.

Saliva drips from your lips, hot and rolling down your chin like syrup. Your eyes flutter open to see his head hung back, relaxed, and you can feel the way his fingers slide up and down the back of your neck. A silent communication, he's never been one for wanton vocalizing during any sexual act but it's hotter in its own way. Plus you know the muscle in his arm alone could keep you locked in place, let him fuck your throat until you're a crying slobbery mess if that's what he wanted.

The thought makes your clit throb, but this session isn't about you. He's pulled long hours, come home so exhausted you have to help him undress most recent nights. Thinking about spoiling him makes one of your hands unconsciously drift to his balls, tenderly cupping them and appreciating their heft, their warmth.

The spit coating his cock has smeared down against them, slicking your palm as your hand massages them and earning you a hitched exhale from his lips. Warmth spreads through your chest, an odd happiness brought on by thinking of how gorgeous you know he looks right now: hair tousled from his hands running through it, eyes squeezed shut, shirt half unbuttoned because you'd been so eager to feel the weight of him in your mouth you barely gave him a moment to undress.

As you pick up the pace you can feel his balls jiggling ever so slightly in your hold, can feel his cock throbbing in starts and stops, and you know he's getting close. Your other hand rubs lightly up and down his thigh, trying your best to telegraph that you know he's almost there.

When his fingers curl against your scalp you give his balls one last tactful squeeze before sliding your index against his taint, prodding the skin but before you can even get a second movement in that powerful grip forces your head forwards.

Your nose is buried in his pubic hair and the suddenness of it leaves you choking around him. Tears prick in your waterline as his hips start moving and you can feel the growing dampness between your legs. His balls are in your grip again, slightly firmer, and as you taste the warm, thick fluid flood your throat you can feel them flex with every spurt of cum.

Knowing he's not a fan of mess you greedily drink down every drop, feeling the tears and spit running down your skin but paying it no real mind. All you can think of as you pull back from his cock with a slight pop, blearily admiring the glimmering string of spit connecting your bottom lip to his dick, is that you know he'll be buried inside your cunt to the hilt next.

[mariacallous]

(JTA) — Nearly 50 days after Hamas’ attack on Israel left 1,200 dead, and after weeks of criticism over its silence about allegations of sexual violence during the attack, the  women’s rights group UN Women issued a statement condemning the terror group on Friday.

Then it deleted the post.

“We condemn the brutal attacks by Hamas on October 7 and continue to call for the immediate and unconditional release of all hostages,” read the initial statement, posted on UN Women’s instagram page. It was soon replaced with a statement that dropped the condemnation of Hamas and only called for the release of the hostages.

Word spread quickly among Jewish women activists and Israelis, reigniting their contention that UN Women — an official arm of the United Nations focused on promoting gender equality and women’s empowerment — holds a double standard when it comes to gender-based violence against Israeli women. Some of the critics — including Sheryl Sandberg, a former top Meta executive — have lobbied openly on the topic. Many have used the hashtag “#MeToo_UNless_UR_A_Jew.”

Reached for comment, UN Women told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency that the Instagram post had been scheduled in advance and was deleted because the message in it no longer reflected where the organization wanted to put its main focus.

“In any social media team managing multiple campaigns and during a very busy time like the one we are now with 16 Days of Activism, mistakes can occur,” a representative for UN Women said in a statement sent to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

In particular, said the media specialist, the release of some hostages over the weekend as part of a temporary truce changed the organization’s priorities.

“UN Women social media team had pre-planned days in advance [of] this particular post, but then the news broke on the release of hostages and we really wanted to focus on that,” she said. “UN Women has condemned the attacks by Hamas and the deaths of Israeli civilians from the beginning as well as called for the release of hostages, and we will continue doing so until the conflict ends. We have also called for all allegations of gender-based violence to be rigorously investigated, prioritizing the rights, needs, and safety of those affected.”

In late October, the United Nations General Assembly adopted a resolution calling for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza but voted down a provision condemning the Oct. 7 Hamas terrorist attacks. On Monday, Israel’s parliament, the Knesset, held a session on crimes against humanity committed against women during the Oct. 7 massacre.

After an initial statement on Oct. 13 condemning the attacks on civilians in Israel, all of UN Women’s public comments about the war and its impact on women had centered only on Palestinians. Last week, Sima Bahous, the group’s executive director, called for an extension of the current temporary truce into a permanent ceasefire and for the release of all hostages.

The National Council for Jewish Women, which had previously criticized UN Women’s silence on sexual violence against Israeli women, said the group’s second statement last week was inadequate.

“The delayed issuance of a statement that fails to explicitly address the severity of Hamas’ terrorist attack on Israel — such as the brutal murder of over 1,200 people in Israel, torture, and rape of women, as well as the targeting of civilians and families — is equally reprehensible,” the statement said. “Immediate and unequivocal acknowledgment of these atrocities is imperative, given the blatant violation of international law.”

[theresattrpgforthat]

Oooo you know what I haven't seen a lot of? Games meant for long term play between two players. Id love to see that!

THEME: Long-Term 2-Player

Hello friend, here's a few specific recommendations, but you'll want to take a look at the bits I recommend at the end as well!

Afterglow, by Fistful of Crits.

It started when a WIZARD cleaved apart the temple into two. Because, in the cyclical way of things, one ideology eventually wins out over the other. The Celestial Cycles shatter and pour away, blending into the colour of their worship into tones of soft purple and creamy orange hues.

Now there is no more day or night, no rising or setting of the Godly tombs that float in carefully calculated arches through the sky: there is only the AfterGlow and the wake of a different world.

AfterGlow is a solo or co-operative play journaling TTRPG game. Become a Dawncarver Acolyte of the Light, Imefelga, or a Nightweaver Acolyte of the God of the Night, Elestrell. Expand the world as you explore, search for offerings, fight dangerous threats and discover the mysteries of the Wizard and the AfterGlow.

AfterGlow is designed using the Firelights system, which was originally designed for solo play, and inspired by games such as Hollow Knight. As a game system, I think it’s one of the games that’s meant to last longer than just one session, and since AfterGlow uses the same bones, I’m guessing that it could work as a longer game as well. Just keep in mind that this game isn’t inspired by Hollow Knight; it’s more of a fantastical post-apocalypse.

Empanel, by Bogus Cheesecake.

The year is 1915 - you sit inside a dreary office, working as a telegraph operator for the North American rail system.  The dots and dashes of the telegraph machine spell out a dreary, unfulfilling existence. Until one day, a new kind of message appears. 

Empanel is a two-player narrative roleplaying game based around telegrams and queer yearning. Completely diceless, Empanel's messaging-based gameplay is designed for long-distance play between you and a partner. 

Empanel provides a new spin on two-player conversational roleplaying. Step into the shoes of a middle-aged telegraph operator (or anyone, we're not your boss) and explore the feelings of reconnecting with a love long past. 

I find that two-player games designed to happen over long distances naturally lend to more long-form play, although that is partially because of the time it is expected to take to send messages to each-other. That being said, even if you don’t live that far away, you’ll be expected to think carefully about the messages you send to each-other, as well as spend time encoding and decoding every letter you send. If you want a game about longing and secrecy, you might like this game.

Trading Places, by Jamie Sands.

Trading Places is a game for two people - one who has an ordinary life, and one who has an extraordinary life. They both keep journals. One day, they wake up in each other's bodies.  What happens next is entirely up to the people playing - will your story be a poignant examination of what a life of value means? Will you create a holiday-themed romantic comedy or an existential horror? 

This game doesn’t look like it has a recommended play time, and since it’s a journaling game, you’ll likely need to wait for each other to submit journal entries. I think the fact that you can change the tone of this game makes it really flexible, so you can talk with the other player about what kind of story you’d like to share. I also really like the idea of exploring the life of another person, and coming up with that as you go.

One More Thing, by Nathan D. Paoletta.

Somebody has been murdered! The murderer is sure they will get away with it - but the detective is on the case, and quickly sees the truth of the matter. Both of them know that the murderer did it; the question is how to prove it.

Your story begins with the murder, and continues as a back-and-forth drama playing out in the view of an imaginary television audience. The Murderer never gets away with it, but they can control how the audience sees them in the end. Were they justified in their crime? Did they see no way out of an untenable situation? Or are they a cold-hearted monster who took a life for their own material gain?

One More Thing tells compelling stories of criminals bought to justice, in the finest tradition of TV detective dramas from the 1970s to today.

This game feels episodic, but I don’t think that would stop it from being something a bit more long-form. You could run this either with one player embodying the same detective over a series of different murders, or you could alternate between roles, perhaps following the stories of two connected detectives, or switching between different tones.

Hit the Road, Jack, by Urania Games.

Hit the Road, Jack is a solo/duet game of adrenaline rush and creeping terror. Of chasing and being chased, of being forced to face your sins or to leave them all behind. It is a game of cat and mouse between two characters that we call the Jacks.

This is a game that mentions blood, violence, drugs, crime, and death - both deaths you choose and deaths you don’t.

Jack Be Nimble is the sinner, the criminal, and the one being chased. 

Jack Be Quick is the lawman, the aggrieved, and the one who chases. 

This is their journey cross-country across an empty stretch of highways. By drawing tarot cards and responding to journaling prompts, you will be able to flesh out the nature of these two Jacks, their relationship, and how they deal with whatever the road throws at them.

The game page mentions that there are different lengths of play that you can use for this game, so that tells me that long-form is definitely on the table here. I don’t know how long exactly the game is, but the nice thing about having two different roles, is that you can likely play the game twice, switching roles to give each of you a chance to be each character.

Other Games To Check Out

Little Shepherd, Little Spy, by @psychhound, has a two-player mode called Little Mortal, Little Fey. It’s a game about communication between spies, so I feel like it’s meant to happen over a significant period of time.

There's a lot of GM-Less games out there that aren't specifically two-player but are duet friendly, and are designed for longer-form play.

[glitchy-npc]

Tenacity

Done as a discord prompt, Tegan and Ortega have an impromptu sparring session that goes...poorly. Sidestep era days, pre face reveal. 1,051 words.

The training mat is supposed to soften the blow and while it's better than concrete, it still hurts when Ortega’s throw lands you flat on your back. Maybe you shouldn't complain, it wasn’t hard enough to activate your pain gate and it would have been far more embarrassing if he caught you. You have an audience after all. Steel and Anathema watch from the sidelines, having paused their own workouts to watch your impromptu sparring session with Ortega. 

He had been the one who suggested it, with a cocky smile and a challenge that was impossible to say no to. You're starting to figure him out, how he likes to bait people, throw them off guard. A guard you put up once more after picking yourself up off the mat, ignoring his outstretched hand. You won’t let him coddle you, not with witnesses.

You watch his feet as he moves hoping they’ll telegraph his next move since the static hum of his mind reveals nothing. It's inconvenient, like fighting with a blindfold. Maybe you should have asked him to fight with one hand tied behind his back. But this is something you need to prove to yourself. That you're strong enough, good enough to run with the Rangers. 

You should have been watching his hands. His left hook catches you by surprise, cracking against your cheek bone and you know it will bruise because you feel your pain gate kick in, slowly muddling the sharp sting of the blow. It's a sensation you’re becoming increasinging used to. At least your mask hides the damage. As well as your expression. 

Ortega winces in sympathy. “Oof, I really thought you would have sidestepped that one.” A wink is all he offers by way of apology. Not that you would have accepted one. No one has ever apologized to you in your life, no reason the Marshal should, just because he’s friendly. 

Friendly when he's not trying to kick your ass in front of his coworkers. Focus. You need to get past that reach. No way you can slug it out with how much taller he is and there's nothing near you besides empty space that you could use to your advantage. Part of you wonders if Steel and Anathema are keeping their distance out of concern for stray lightning bolts. It's been known to happen. 

No, you’ve got to get him off his feet, on the ground. If you can get him into a lock you might be able to get him to tap out. 

You duck low under his raised guard and lock your arms around his torso. With your pain gate active you barely feel the body blow he gives you and you sacrifice your footing for the aid of gravity, sweeping your leg behind his dominant one, using your momentum to bring him off balance. He doesn’t fall like you wanted him to, rolling to diffuse the impact, but you’re still locked together. And what's worse, he's on top. But while your arms are pinned, so are his. He has the audacity to smile at you and you're sure it's not just your imagination that reads the suggestion in it. 

Ok. Time to fight dirty, your enemies would. You crack your forehead into his nose as hard as you can, your pain gate saving you from the worst of it, not so much for Ortega. 

He swears in Spanish but the surprise blow is enough of a distraction to roll him off of you. Not that he lets you get to your feet. 

He’s fast but then again you knew that. He grapples you down again. Longer reach, heavier body, what were you thinking? It's not long before he has you pinned, face down, one arm trapped beneath you, the other locked behind your back. You struggle despite it but your kicks find no purchase.

“Tap out!” The Marshal voice. Looks like he's not playing anymore. 

Drops of something wet and coppery smelling hit your mask. Blood? Did you break his nose? You’ll call that a victory even if your arm beneath you is shaking with the effort to get him off you. You push with every bit of your strength, trying not to think about how you’ll feel once your pain gate resets.

“I said tap out!” The pressure increases on the arm he has a hold of. You don’t feel the pain but there's a tightness in your shoulder that worries you. He could break your arm. 

Easily. 

“Fuck you!” It’s all you can think of to say as you feel your eyes sting. What made you think you could take on Charge of all people? He’s been in the hero game for years, there's a reason he was made the Marshal. And you? A runaway little cuckoo who was never made for combat. Small. Weak. Everything your blue-skinned siblings said you were. You squeeze your eyes shut hard, half to push back the tears, half to muster the very last ounce of strength you have.

You feel your bodies lift ever so slightly and then…

“Enough!” Suddenly all the pressure is gone as Steel drags the Marshal off of you and you quickly scramble to your feet. Anathema stands in front of you, close but not touching you as Steel stands in front of Ortega, barriers between you two. 

There's a strange look in Ortega’s eyes as blood flows freely from his nose, you’re not sure if you approached him now if he would hit you or hug you. 

“You should have yielded…” His voice is softer than it had been before, unsure, not a tone you’re used to hearing from him.

“I think we're done for today.” Steel says with a finality you can feel. Even if he’s an asshole, he’s at least good at keeping a cool head. He offers the Marshal a towel and suddenly the sight of his blood makes you nauseous. You need to get out of here. 

“Whatever.” Is all you offer by way of goodbye, turning on your heel to storm out of the training room.

“Sidestep, wait! We can-” Anathema’s voice calls out to you but you’re already out the door. You walk as fast as you can, it takes all your willpower not to run.

Nobody stops you.

[bullet-prooflove]

Red Rag - Nick Torres x Reader

Tagging: @brownskinbaby22 @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @divergent146 @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @@kotlclover2021 @@kgkslgohogkdlslgk @lapricot @stxrryswvrld @whateversomethingbruh

It’s well known that Nick Torres and Dale Sawyer don’t get on.

Sawyer’s arrogant, ambitious and a complete dick.

Despite his reputation as a lone wolf Nick is actually a pack animal. He’s fiercely protective of his team, of his place in the hierarchy. It’s taken him a long time to acclimate but now that he’s settled, he’ll do anything to defend his position. He knows that Sawyer is gunning for it, he has been since he made the move onto this floor.

Despite his shortfalls Sawyer is actually a good agent. He’s observant, detail orientated. That’s how he realises that things have changed between you and Nick. There’s always been a little something there, the two of you have known each other a long time. It’s not unusual to see you together.

It’s the body language, he realises. Nick lingers in your proximity these days, he smiles more, there’s a look in his eyes when he meets your gaze that Sawyer would never have associated with Nick Torres.

Sawyer catches a lucky break when the day shift ask him to go undercover as a cage fighter. The plan is for him and Torres to fight one another in hopes of meeting the brains behind the outfit. Torres has the undercover experience, so he’s been designated the winner.

It rankles Sawyer just a little. He’s younger, fitter than the other man. He just hasn’t had the opportunity to prove himself yet. He considers Torres a loose cannon, unworthy of the position he’s acquired. He’s had problems with alcohol in the past, he’s sober now apparently, has been over a year but it’s not the mark of a good agent. He’s the weak link in the team, the one Sawyer has to unbalance if he wants a spot on the day shift and he knows just the way to do it.

The case is an important one, there’s national security at stake so Director Vance is there to oversee their initial training session. They’re supposed to be choreographing the fight, figuring out each other’s fighting styles. Torres keeps it controlled to Sawyer’s surprise, the stories he’s heard about Torres is that he’s a brawler. Sawyer knows he needs to hit the nuclear button if he wants to show the Director that he’s got what it takes to succeed.

Torres’s fighting style is aggressive, Sawyer telegraphs his moves carefully. When Nick swings in for a body blow, he captures his arm, whipping him around so his back is pressed against Sawyer’s chest, Sawyer’s arm locks around the other agent’s throat. The two of them grapple for a minute before Sawyer hisses.

“I fucked her too you know?”

It’s like waving a red rag in front of a bull.

Torres snaps, his left elbow jabbing right into his solar plexus. It winds Sawyer for a second but that second is all Torres needs to turn the tables. He’s on him in an instant, that raw anger contorting his features as he lashes out, punching Sawyer in the face again and again. He’s lucky he’s wearing the headguard, because every single one of those punches would have done some serious damage.

Its McGee that pulls Torres off him, the Director getting in between the two of them forcing them apart. Sawyer complies immediately, backing off, his eyes on Torres as he wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He can see the fire in the other man, the tension in his jaw and he knows without a doubt if MeGee didn’t have hands on him, Torres would come at him again.

“Save it for the ring.” Director Vance snaps, jabbing his finger at Torres. “You’re going to need it.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[aromantic-eight]

"OOO do you think the temple of yondalla has a collections box we could loot?" "Probably! It might be UNDER THE ALTAR where you found the MONEY, LAST SESSION." -- The DM to the party after a full half session of the party checking every single room of an explicitly empty temple for valuables, after they found the clearly telegraphed valuables they actually came for.

[harrisonarchive]

Photo by Neal Preston. “You try not to think about it, and there’d be times we’d all in the room playing together, and then out of nowhere it pops into your head, ‘Oh my God, I’m playing with one of The Beatles!’ That’s usually when I’d hit a wrong chord.” - Tom Petty, Guitar World, 2004 “George was in such awe of Bob, if somebody came over to a session, he’d open a door and say, ‘Look, it’s Bob Dylan.’ Whereas everybody else is opening another door going, ‘That’s f—— George Harrison.’ I loved him so much.” - Jeff Lynne, The Telegraph, November 8, 2015 “[W]hen I talk about George, he’s so famous, and so much of an icon. But he really had the ability to make you forget about that and be a real good friend, and we had a lot of fun. A lot of laughs, a lot of playing the guitars. […] He was so funny, it’s hard to explain. He was the funniest guy I ever met. Such a keen sense of humor. A lot of fun. A wise person. He really wanted to know the meaning of it all. But at the same time, he was really light-hearted and tremendous fun. [Laughs] Just tremendous fun. And we got along so well. There’s really not a day that I don’t think about him.” - Tom Petty, Conversations With Tom Petty (2005) “I loved him [George] so much, and if he had never played a note, I would have been so blessed to have him in my life.” - Tom Petty, Rolling Stone, January 17, 2002 (x)

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 27-30 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

I make these notes as I work on an episode, however, people have been so attentive and observant with their comments that I started a tag fragments feedback where we dive even deeper into themes and interactions in the comic. These comments are a blessing, often pointing out things that my own brain doesn't register.

Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.

Episode 27 begins with a chat about the original weapons that are merely a stylish-looking convenience for them ic and for me ooc, so that I don't have to draw them lugging their weapons around.

Essentia's just a name for Vivi's spear, not like the whole concept. I introduced it around the beginning of the ShB arc. Alisaie's weapons have no name yet, there's a possibility to do something cute referring to twins.. I shall think of it :3c

Look at this child being all smug for having been able to help recreating something previously thought unique, and, um, flirting.. In her own way.....

Vivi be like, sigh, "ah, back on her bs already... Better indulge her while she's still in a nice mood".

Alisaie's left arm's stronger than both Vivi's. As a dragoon he doesn't only use magic to amplify his jumps, if it works on legs, why not extend it to arms as well? Not unlike what monks do, minus the actual physical training. Basically he cheats with magic in real fights. A casual friendly duel isn't worth expending aether, so he only relies on his actual strength :'>

He also can't do friendly duels because his Echo only telegraphs hostile attacks. A friend would stop before his blade cuts him, so Vivi's kinda blind, only relying on his own average skill. A legendary hero that's no fun to spar with if you're remotely competent.

..Which has no negative effect on Exarch's fanboyism.

Several people said they look forward to said sparring session, and I felt like I failed them because I had no plans to follow through with this. Then I thought some more.. Do we mean every little thing we say or think? Sometimes it's just distracted nonsense. If every action and word were hooks/setups for the story, it'd feel artificial. This's just my opinion, but some scenes have to have idle chatter and musings for realism.

Vivi and Alphi look like door-to-door salesmen, yet the Chais are buying multiples of whatever they sell.

This's a looooooongg post, under the cut we go~

A random thing that thematically belongs here, but didn't make it in the comic: Vivi ended up being more freaked out by Eulmore than Amh Araeng.

Feo "privacy breach" Ul :> They greet each other so casually that it's clear, this's far from being the first time.

One of my personal fav panels so far. People loved the "crystal mystel" so much but I can't take credit for that! My brain's full of soup that's a mix of everything canon and my own generous additions, but I THINK one of the pixies calls him that ingame, sometime post 5.0.

You probably didn't know that you needed more Exarch and Feo Ul interactions till now, I've got you covered. Their scenes will take time to trickle in, but they EXIST and go back as far as their first meeting.

Exactly what happened.

One more episode where Vivi doesn't utter a word, but it doesn't feel like that.

Tank!Exarch fanclub, +1 member. Vivi's pleasantly surprised by the sudden shift in Exarch's demeanor. He genuinely admires him here. "Lead me anywhere daddy".

Ready for a guild wars 1 (one!) joke? No? I'm making it anyway. Lyna casts gaze of contempt (effect: removes enchantments on target foe)

She's such a good daughter with great intuition. She feels uneasy about this way before Vivi feels anything at all. He just looks. Perceives. He has eyes, dammit! And Exarch has those stupid sexy sandals and shiny crystal arm and stylish flowy robes and he's generally kinda cool? It's official, it has begun: Vivi's attracted to Exarch here.

Zooming in super close to bring your attention to his thigh gap <w<

A closeup for the hell of it C: His eyes have a natural faint glow that's just there, it doesn't mean anything, like, genuinely.

Vivi tries to appease Lyna. He has no idea why she keeps glaring at him, probably still not trusting a stranger. He uses his charm as a casual manipulation. Unfortunately, Lyna falls for it. For now.

As per msq, Exarch's kneeling, not collapsing (although that would've been just as fitting tbh). While still not trusting him too much, Vivi slowly begins to respect a reputable ruler and a skilled fighter, and WHY IS HE KNEELING MY LORD GET UP?! Vivi hates being treated like some sort of a messiah. That pushes him further inside the box of being a mythical figure, and denies his humanity.

Normal colors and lighting!! For one episode....

The scene on the left isn't meant to feel cozy and inviting, while the right one is. Sickly, cold, washed out colors vs darker and warmer ones. I'm putting a lot of thought into this, just wanted to celebrate it a lil C:

Episodes 28-29 show Vivi and Exarch's ways of handling unexpected personal hostility. Vivi casually whips out a V and a silly grin, while Exarch.....

He tried, okay?!

A thing on their positioning in this scene that I didn't plan consciously, it just happened: Exarch's framed by the Crystarium, appearing more aligned with it, while the elf pile's surrounded by an idyllic natural frame. Something something about the greenery meaning life, and Exarch looking a bit out of place here.

This's our first, but not last encounter of an imagination theater :>

The dragons are goofy on purpose. Well, sort of. I can count on one hand the amount of times I drew non-humanoid creatures, and the tone here doesn't demand anything super serious from me. Also it makes sense in-character, Exarch probably never saw a dragon up close.

Take a good look at this lil shit. I indulged in illustrating his badass moment before pointing the "camera" away for a while. We're heading into the Il Mheg arc that lasts for months and has no cats ;w;

Vivi's iconic Protagonist Grin >:D

Also, Ryne. Just to keep your expectations grounded: while I personally like her, she has no relevance in this story, and very little screentime. I'm currently having Eden raid brainworms, might write a scene or two related to that, but we're talking many years into the future. Until then, she doesn't do much.

ShB cast's diverse and extremely fun to explore, but if I went on tangents the comic would literally never progress. Gotta be honest, I'm already terrified that some readers might drift away before reaching the wolgraha part of this wolgraha comic. I don't wanna rush OR dilute the main plot too much, if that makes sense. Also, just like in real life, you probably don't form perfect connections with every member of your social circle, some people grow closer than others. Vivi has next to no connection to Minfilia/Ryne, he also stays away from little girls after one of those ended up becoming his lifelong problem *snorts and points at Alisaie*

Desires, and feasting on them? A dungeon meshi nod? More likely than you think.

Feo Ul, sprawled out on his chest like that, visually resembles a burning heart.

Emet antithesis :3c

Imagine loving your pet so much that you let him do this. Feo Ul isn't moved by the physical act AND the joking accusation.

While seemingly slacking for a dozen episodes, Vivi formed bonds with Feo Ul and Ardbert, and thus secured the future of the two stars. Now he has friends that aren't his coworkers first and foremost, that he genuinely wants to fight for. This's what makes him tick as a hero: a quiet plea of a friend, not even asking him directly, a stark contrast to being dragged around and cried at for help. If Vivi's introduction to an entity (person/group of people) is "they suffer, they need help", he shrugs it off. Everyone suffers and needs help, he can't split into thousands of vivis to please them all.

He's only truly motivated to help, or empathizes with those who he gets to know through other means. Take Ardbert, his strange behavior on the Source, then reintroduction that's confusion and companionable snark, but not wailing for help. And Feo Ul, they hang out with him just because, they're safe.

He may not run off to fight the local Lightwarden this instant, but when he gets around to it, he's earnest for a change.

This's all I have for now, thanks for reading!!

[little-miss-doe]

I feel like I have a spicy take about the combat in Ep 91 because no part of my DM brain was clocking this as a "real TPK" threat.

The whole thing immediately gave me the vibe that a TPKO (Total Party Knock Out) was one of the story paths designed for this encounter, leading into a fade to black ending/"you all wake up in a cell" next session. This is something Otohan could have probably done expediently with the backpack echos in only a few rounds. And before anyone is "Otohan said they were gonna kill them!" ... stop ... NPCs/enemies are avatars of moving the game forward and giving the PCs motivation or reaction material. They are (almost) never the actual intention of the DM in a game.

Having run and been a PC in more than a few intentionally deadly/actually TPK games in my life ... Matt didn't really seem to be doing many of the things I would expect a DM leaning into that would do. At least nothing that wouldn't overlap with a highly competent foe specifically designed to 1v the action economy of a large party. In games like this if a DM wants to kill a party ... they just can. The DM will "win" 100% of the time, whenever they choose to.

At the start of the encounter I kind of mapped out the story paths he was likely expecting. There had been enough telegraphing since they got to the moon that an Otohan rematch was going to either happen while they where there or have to be creatively avoided. I could argue there was some power level/available resource miscalculation on Matt's part here but ... only a little.

[catierambles]

Blood Moon Ch.25

The current coursing through his body burned away the last of the wolfsbane and the wolf burst out of his skin before he was even completely alert. He was immediately shoved out of wherever he had been and he looked around, seeing the people above him behind wire fencing, cheering and jeering, shouting wordlessly. Sy had been shifting almost every night since his first therapy session, so he was himself and not the beast as he looked around. It was a pit of some kind, a dirt floor rough against the pads of his feet.

Movement to his left caught his attention and he dodged as another wolf rushed him, snarling, the cheering getting louder. It swiped at him and he dodged again, moving around them, their moves easily telegraphed. They were smaller than he was, slimmer, their fur a russet brown instead of black like his. They were quick, though, and pain ripped through his chest as their claws connected, tearing open his skin, the volume of those watching increasing again.

His opponent relied on their speed, thinking his size made him slow. They tried to tackle him and he grabbed them, pulling them in and moving behind them, wrapping one arm around their throat and the other around the back of their head. They bucked against him, but he locked his legs around their ribs, bringing them both to the floor.

1...2...3...

It takes nine seconds to render someone unconscious from a chokehold.

4...5...6...

Them still struggling to get free would only hasten it, burning up what little oxygen was still getting to the brain.

7...8...

They went limp and he relaxed his hold, but didn’t let go. He knew the moment they were awake again after a few seconds, their body stiffening.

Stay still. He said, knowing they would hear them, pitching it so only they would. I don’t wanna hurt you. Play possum. A moment of hesitation where he thought they would resume the fight before they relaxed again, going limp. He let go, releasing them and leaving them on the floor. A sharp pain in his side had him looking down and he saw the dart sticking out of his skin. Sy barely had time to pull it out before everything went dark again.

Jack and Denise along with Mike and Jake sat in her living room, Pete and Brian having given them a rundown of what was happening. Jack had insisted that a police report be filed, but when Annalisa told them that Sy had been given to a werewolf fighting ring run by a vampire, he acquiesced. No one would believe them and it would be dismissed as ravings. Ethan was already in contact with the private investigator she had on retainer, digging up where they could have taken him. She hadn’t told Sy’s parents that the other woman in the house had helped Eugene, just that she was Merediths’ mother. They had been pleased to meet her and once Annalisa reassured them that everything was being done that could be at that time, they started trading stories of when Mike and Meredith were little, much to their embarrassment.

It helped keep their minds off of what was happening.

“Oh, we stayed in Paris until after the Civil War was over before joining Lady Caulfield here.” Sweeney said.

“How old were you when ya had’er?” Jack asked.

“I was Turned in 1840 when I was twenty-three, had Merry a couple years later.”

“Still a baby yourself.” Jack said and she shrugged.

“There were women at that time younger than I was who already had several children.” She said.

“A friend of mine still overseas let me know Eugene had fathered a child,” Annalisa said, “And I extended the offer for them to join the coven.”

“Lady Caulfield—Annie, I—about Eugene—”

“It’s the past, Elizabeth.” She said, “I’m over it and so should you be.”

“Were you and the fuckhead still together when he got Sweeney knocked up?” Jake asked.

“Heavens no.” Annalisa said, “I had dropped him decades ago by that point.”

“You said he rabbited, yeah?” Jack asked and she nodded. “Got a plan how to find’im?”

“Once Sy is back home and safe, I’ll put the word out. There are a few covens in the area that he might try to request asylum from, but I don’t think he will stay local. I already had contacts in the State Department and Homeland Security put a flag on all the passports under names I’ve known him to have. He tries to leave the country, I’ll know.”

“You got contacts in Homeland Security.” Brian said and she nodded. “Ethan said you got connections, didn’t think it went that high up.”

“When you’ve been around for as long as I have, you can see whose careers have potential in their chosen field.” She said, “I owe them both a bottle of top-shelf scotch and invitations to the wedding, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“You ask a lot of favors?” Pete asked.

“Goodness no.” She said with a snort, “I don’t take advantage of our friendships like that.”

“It’s why they have no problem helping her when she does ask.” Ethan said from his seat in a wing-back chair by the fireplace.

“Okay!” Meredith said suddenly and they all looked at her, “I have to bring up the elephant in the room.”

“Meredith.” Annalisa said.

“Annie, I have to.” She said, “Mike and I agreed that when he turns twenty-five, I’m going to Turn him.” She said it a rush and they blinked at her before Annalisa let out a huff of a laugh. Not the elephant she was worried about.

“So in a few months.” Denise said and she nodded.

“It’s how old I was when that part of my genetics kicked in and—well we wanted to be the same age, kind of, and—”

“So I have a few months before my baby is—”

“Mom, I’m still going to be me.” Mike said, “Just—like Sy said, something extra.”

“Do you have to?” Denise asked.

“Mike is my Tovaras.” Meredith said, “He’s literally my other half. If I didn’t and he died, so would I. Eventually.”

“And I want this.” Mike said, “Merry and I are forever, and I want to be with her forever, not just for my lifetime.”

“Forever is an eternity, but over in the blink of an eye.” Annalisa said and shrugged when they gave her a questioning look. “I was contemplating Turning Sy before I found out he was a wolf.”

“Annie.” Jack said and she looked at him, “I know you’re workin’ on gettin’im home, you ain’t sittin’ idle, but...how you dealin’ with this, sweetheart?”

“Breaking down won’t help anything.”

“I know that.” He said, “But you can’t keep it buried. We’re here for you, babe, you don’t gotta be strong for our sake.”

“I’m just....” She stopped, “I’m scared. I’m terrified that at any moment I’ll feel him die and I—I can’t—” Ethan moved to get up from his seat, but Jack beat him to it, crossing the room and pulling her out of the chair and into a hug.

“We’re your family, sweety.” He said, “You don’t gotta put on a brave face for us.”

“I’m terrified, but I’m also so. Fucking. Angry.” She said, returning his embrace. “I believed the shit that was shoveled. If Pete hadn’t told us about Sy’s dyslexia, I would have kept believing it. I wouldn’t have known what had happened, or that he was in trouble, or what Eugene had been doing to line his pockets. I’m furious, at Eugene and at myself.”

“You’ll get’im home.” Jack said, rubbing her back soothingly. “I’m learnin’ more about you every minute, so I know you’ll get’im home, and I know you’ll hold that asshole accountable.”

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Elven ear massage ft. Astarion and Mira

This is a poorly veiled instructional guide, NOT a drabble/ficlet. There is no romance, it's... look, I just want you guys to understand how to massage ears 😅 if you use this tag me so I can read what you write ! Enjoy the info

Her skilled fingers traced gentle circles along the outer rim of Astarion's ear, applying light to moderate pressure. This technique stimulated the vagus nerve, fostering a sense of relaxation and diminishing stress. Astarion felt a subtle release of tension as Mira's hands moved with purpose.

Transitioning to the earlobes, Mira's touch became deliberate. She applied a gentle pressure, incorporating tugging and pulling motions. This activated the release of endorphins, contributing to Astarion's overall sense of well-being. The rhythmic press and release on his earlobes offered a comforting sensation, and the rogue found himself surrendering to the calming effects.

Moving to the upper part of the ear by gently dragging her fingertips from one place to the next in order to telegraph where her movements were going, Mira employed careful strokes. Up, down, then a little higher, gradually moving to the new placement.

Transitioning to moderate pressure (pinching with the flat of the forefinger and thumb, no nails) targeted the trigeminal nerve, a technique known to alleviate tension and headaches. Astarion felt a soothing warmth spreading through his head, a subtle relief from the strains of the day.

In the middle of Astarion's ear, Mira seamlessly blended kneading and pinching motions. These targeted pressure points associated with balance and emotional stability. The moderate pressure, applied with expertise, created a nuanced dance that left feelings of a restored sense of equilibrium.

Transitioning to the inner ear, Mira's touches became delicate. The light pressure on this sensitive area activated points linked to internal organs, promoting vitality. In the undead, perhaps not, but it was relaxing nonetheless.

Throughout the session, Mira maintained a mindful dialogue, chatting about each step and nerve trigger, checking in with Astarion to ensure the pressure and techniques were comfortable. The massage lasted around 10-15 minutes. Short, but sweet.

In the end, to finish it off, Mira employed a technique for soothing the stress response of the body. A pinch to both earlobes at once, pulling down with enough pressure that She had to be mindful to verbally ensure that there was no pain. This position she held a for a count of twenty seconds. Then, the fleshy outer part of the middle ear. Pull. Hold.

Higher up. Pull. Hold. The tip. Pull, hold. Once finished, her fingers very firmly found the round of bone behind his ears, and did the same to the flesh there. Push, very firmly, and Pull down. Hold. Move to the middle. Push the skin down, pull back towards the back of the head, hold. Then to the top of the bone. Push, pull up and back. Hold.

Finally, right before she left him to his wine and books for the evening, she pressed two fingers right into the center of his forehead, between his brows. Pushed with pressure, and held for 20 seconds. Upon release, his entire body felt a wave of relaxation.

The cleric said good night, and he rested without nightmares that evening.

[thewertsearch]

I'd add this to the shipping chart, but there's only so many lines I can draw at Eridan's node.

Probability of character development: 0.1% -> 0.2%

Well, that is interesting. If Consorts are still around, I wonder if the session is still spawning Underlings?

Dang it, Homestuck, that could be any timeframe!

M3 4N DA B3ST13! >8D

Anyone else think that shrinking the canvas actually improves the quality of Dave's SBaHJ art? I think it's because there's no space for artificing.

His Ironic Tyranny has awoken.

Oh, shit! Is Nepeta finally about to enter the plot?

...oh, it's her tablet. I forgot Terezi told Dave she'd fetch one.

Right, well it looks like we're done with Terezi. None of the other PoVs are telegraphed as the 'canonical' choice, so I'll just go with the one I'm most interested in - which is, naturally, Aradia.