#bitter vicar

[galaxirin]

A micolaurence doodle because I’m a multi shipper at heart ❤️

@synthwayve the food is here 😎😎

[spaceratprodigy]

oldie shitpost I made last year based on that one pic but never posted and send to my bf constantly

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[bornetoblood]

OH YEAH! If you guys wanna shoot me your opinion’s on Moon Divorce (Laurence/Gehrman) like as a ship (be it possitive/negetive/indifferent) I’d genuinly love to hear them lmao

[pumpkaaboo]

fuck it. massive pile of byrgenwerth headcanons

Willem was a decorated and well-established scholar from a wealthy family. When he decided to depart his previous university and establish a new one near some recently-rediscovered historical sites, no one really thought twice, but very few followed him. Not many wanted to brave the bitter winters of the mountainlands (and, though no one would admit it, the rumors of a blood-drinking aristocracy and immortal monarch certainly played a part in many a scholar's decision). That was alright, to him. His ideas attracted company.

Laurence was one of Willem's students, and decided to put his doctorate on hold in order to follow his favorite professor to the newly-established university. He admired Willem's boldness and willingness to break new ground, to challenge assumptions about what was impossible. Over time, he grew disillusioned as Willem began urging caution towards the findings from the labyrinths, eventually leading to the Byrgenwerth schism. By the time he would have realized his mistake, he was too far gone to understand what was happening to him.

Gehrman was initially a simple mercenary hired to escort scholars through the tombs. However, the bond he fostered with Laurence drove him to catch up with the rest of the students and participate directly in their research. Eventually, he became something of a gold standard for tomb prospectors, and only those willing to follow in his footsteps were permitted access to the deeper layers of the labyrinths. He left with Laurence, not because he agreed with the newly-crowned Vicar's ideas, but because Laurence was the only person he had ever really been honing himself into a weapon for.

Rom was an orphaned scholar from south of the mountainlands who drew attention by being one of the only noncombatant scholars to accompany the prospectors to the deeper layers of the tombs, and she was the one who first Made Contact with lonely Ebrietas. And the left-behind Daughter of the Cosmos adored her. At first regarded as a charming little sister figure by most of the other scholars, resentment towards her began to grow once the realization that she was outpacing her peers became apparent. Rom was aware that she suddenly no longer felt welcome among her classmates, and began spending more and more time with her surrogate mother. The closer she grew to the stars, the more distanced she grew from her peers, the less able and willing to share her findings with them she became. Until one day, she was no longer human at all. The knowledge of how to contact Ebrietas died with her, not to be rediscovered until the Choir found the Isz chalice.

Maria, though technically a relative of the Queen Undying, was so distant as to be for all intents and purposes a member of the servant class. She took up the role of common knight just as her mother, and her mother's mother, and her mother's mother's mother had before her. What was not common was the circumstances behind her knighting; on her own, she slew the great, winged, many-clawed thing that had been her own mother using nothing but the blinding glint off a hand mirror and a sharp-toothed metal comb. Such a prestigious feat was almost enough to overcome the dishonor of a family member losing themself to the sanguine plague, and she received her title when she was barely old enough to lift a sword. In fact, Annalise herself was considering and subtly training Maria for the role of her own personal knight, though Maria left before she could make any such announcement. In Byrgenwerth, she saw the potential for growth instead of stagnation; for the creation of a new future instead of endless nostalgia for an increasingly clouded past. Not trusting the ideals she was taught by an aristocracy that made blood magic into an art, told her that her grief over her mother should instead be shame, and maintained feudal rule for centuries, she essentially outsourced her morality to her fellow scholar-prospectors. This would turn out to be a mistake, though she wouldn't allow herself to realize that until years after the fact. The hamlet, as it was happening, was merely the first crack in the facade to her. But before that, she was Gehrman's apprentice, and brought with her the techniques and traditions of Cainhurst's knights. She was responsible for Yharnam's hunters becoming descendants in spirit of the knights, though few bothered to learn enough about Cainhurst to draw the parallel. Gehrman ended up learning almost as much from her as she did from him.

(Cainhurst's cultural views on gender and sexuality are very different from those of most of the rest of the world, as implied by the knight's sets, Maria's hunter gear being clearly based on the masculine version of the knight's set, and Annalise's whole... everything. Maria probably had to be taught what the cisheteropatriarchy is and how she'd be expected to act by Rom. Her response was likely something along the lines of "That's so stupid and just makes everyone's lives worse, why do people agree to participate in it???" Rom did not have an answer for her.)

Logarius was a descendant of the knights who fought against the faction that would eventually become Cainhurst in the great Pthumerian civil war. Over time, a political conflict had been mythologized into a legendary battle between purity and corruption, not helped by Cainhurst's general isolationism. He initially joined the tomb prospectors in the hopes of learning more about the glorious history of his ancestors, and was quickly accepted into the ranks of the scholar-prospectors alongside Gehrman. Naturally, he was none too pleased when Maria showed up and almost immediately earned her place as Gehrman's star pupil. Maria, who had never been very good at reading the emotions of others, was unaware of his resentment towards her until the founding of the Executioners in their modern form. Ludwig, who arrived in Yharnam once the Church was already in full swing, was a descendant of these same knights, but despite Logarius's efforts to recruit him, he was far more willing to let the past stay in the past and focus on the issues of the present.

Micolash was a relative newcomer. He was the archetypal "former child prodigy gets to college and is surrounded by equals or superiors for the first time in their life and immediately has an identity crisis". The fact that said superiors included women was salt in the wound. (Compared to the rest of its contemporary universities, Byrgenwerth was fairly egalitarian in its admissions, but this was still a time period where women were seen as property. That mindset is difficult to shake, and most didn't see any reason to try.) He was determined to find a breakthrough that would outshine everyone else, and surrounded himself with people who never criticized him. Laurence was actually a bit reluctant to let him come along to the nascent Church, and definitely regretted his decision on more than one occasion. Especially after the School of Mensis for all intents and purposes severed itself from the rest of the Church.

(In a modern AU, Micolash would be selling cryptocurrency and Great One NFTs)

Caryll was a bit of an enigma. They never drew close to anyone, throwing themself headfirst into their work and only contacting anyone else to share their notes and results. No one was ever able to figure out whether they were a man or a woman. Maria was the only person unphased by this. Sadly, Caryll's transcription of runes only began to show truly impressive results once Master Willem's mind had already begun to fail, so he was never able to both see what his student had produced and understand what he was looking at. Caryll eventually died of dehydration after multiple feverish days spent working on a single rune, forgetting to tend to their physical needs. Ironically, the rune carved into the desk where their classmates found their body was Lake.

Yurie the Last Scholar was named as such because she was the last person to ever visit Byrgenwerth for the knowledge contained within before Yharnam, and everything around it, fell into ruin, not to be unearthed for centuries. Her mission was twofold: first, she was to comb through the texts of the university for anything new to the Choir. Second, and perhaps more importantly, she was to destroy any record that could be used to harm the church; most notably, this included attendance records which might be cross-referenced to determine which students had left alongside Laurence. She completed the second mission, but not the first. She lost herself in eldritch knowledge, and eventually forgot why she came to Byrgenwerth in the first place, so immersed was she in the thrill of discovery, of ever-expanding insight. Not that there would have been anything for her to return to. Perhaps what happened to her could be considered a mercy. She never had to know.

[fareehaandspaniards]

Random Bloodborne headcanons post

(as I need to empty my head)

-Ludwig comes from a warm, southern country, he loves grapes and night walks. He had a predisposition to gain insight from his background, as his homeland had a philosophy close to Isz's (stars and sky are religious symbols). And since Laurence was aware of this, during Ludwig's communion with the Church, he handed him blood mixed with Burgenwerth samples from the Fishing Hamlet (out of curiosity)

-Rom's ascension was her own initiative and the result of research approved by Willem. Unlike Micolash, she conducted all her experiments on herself. As the last experiment she became pregnant and could finally hear the call of the Ebrietas, for she had discovered the subtle and delicate bond of the Kin. Only Willem knew of her intentions to use her own child to communicate with the Great Ones. And Laurence (the child's father), best friend Caryll, Yurie, who was in love with her, and the rest were left unaware

-Logarius felt sympathy for Ludwig, which resulted in a brief (because of the disasters in Yharnam) attachment. Ludwig carried the ideals of chivalry, and it was he who reminded Logarius of a “paragon of kindness”. In fact, Logarius' great quote about good and evil deeds is a paraphrase of Ludwig's words, remembered as the wisdom of the former. Logarius always knew his journey would end in death and bitterness, but would have been broken to learn how Ludwig died - labeled a “monster,” a convert, clinging only to the Light of his Holy Moonlight sword. They both would have preferred to die in battle as humans, by each other's blades.

-After Maria died, Gehrman changed. He was out of his mind for about a month, and Laurence forbade anyone to visit the hunters' workshop. Gehrman's mind left him and the Doll was created. The Doll heard many tears and drunken swearing from its grief-stricken creator. Gehrman spent evenings with the Doll, talked to her as if she were Maria alive, took her under his arm, and was generally insane. However, this obsession had passed, thanks to Laurence. The Doll later became literally alive in Hunter's dream. Poor Gehrman

-Caryll had heard the bell ringing since he was young and seen a face in the window at night. At first he was afraid, but as he grew older, he became interested. As he learned, he saw a Pthumerian woman. One night he disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only a wheelchair and an open window. No one knows where he went, and his corpse has never been found. (I think I wrote down that headcanon already, but I like too much :^))

-Logarius had always despised Rom for her excessive initiative in the affairs of the Church. For her antics, her attempts at leadership, and, above all, her familiarity with the vicar. He suggested to Laurence that he should “show her” where her place is, but was rudely rebuffed. I think to Logarius she would be a “fallen woman”, if only because she actually has a relationship with the vicar but spends all her time with Caryll. And he wouldn't care that their friendship is almost a familial bond, that Caryll is asexual, that they are each other's support and backbone. I think he's too conservative to realize that!

-Blood Saint Adeline is an aristocrat, and her little jabot was always on her. Actually, her family was against the Healing Church in general, but the girl was a rebel by nature, and so she first joined the Church, started helping the doctors, and then gave herself and her blood for transfusion.

-Logarius (Rogeriusz) is the brother of the King of Cainhurst, Annalise's consort. Actually, brother's death to create a child of the Blood, Logarius' contempt for Annalise as a woman, and his adherence to the ideals of “Pure” blood - led him to the Church. My Logarius is a big chauvinist, an unabashed asshole, and a testosterone warehouse! Perhaps the only thing that appealed to his conscience was Ludwig. But that didn't concern his plans for Cainhurst - here Logarius saw his purpose and meaning - to punish and destroy the unrighteous descendants of his lineage

-Maria and Logarius - actually not a bad pairing, I think! Initially, the two experienced sympathy for each other - Maria didn't know why he joined the Church, and he hoped Maria would share his ideals with him. But the more Maria learned about him, the more Logarius frightened her. He didn't know what she'd been through in Fishing Hamlet or what kind of burden she carried, nor did he generally give much thought to such a thing as “trauma.” So he treated her as a young, ambitious girl he knew from his life in Cainhurst. Perhaps their acquaintance would have ended in a duel, had it not been for events that drove them in different directions. Maria to the Research Hall, and him to preparing a raid on the castle.

-Logarius didn't appreciate Byrgenwerth' squad, Caryll, the whole gang of scientists. But he took an interest in Gehrman and hunting. He was always polite to him, respectful, like to an elder

Gehrman and Caryll were good friends! And while the old hunter was still on his feet, he was perfecting Caryll's chair, following the process of carving runes into the wood. The two found common ground easily, and it made Laurence mildly jealous. (To both Gehrman was like a father.)

Edgar grew up in the Church' Orphanage, though he was related to a respected scholar, Yurie .She didn't want to deal with him at first, since she never knew his mother or him, and she also had a job at the Research Hall. But when there was a risk that he might fall under the Church's experiments, Yurie took him. In fact, the boy grew up under her supervision and care, and also with Madlene (my name for Imposter Iosefka), who was dating Yurie. Essentially, he was raised by two women.

-Henriette, Alfred, Edgar and Bloody Crow of Cainhurst - are the youngest characters in the game (Gascoigne's daughters don't count)

-Willem was appointed “Head” of the Choir, but only formally, Laurence just wanted to make it appear that he was still involved in the affairs of the Healing Church. Willem himself was not interested in this, he was busy researching and helping Rom

-Many of the people of Yharnam still honor the old faith that lived here before the Church. The faith that replaced the Great Ones long-long ago, the faith of light and goodness. When Laurence brought it all back, many houses secretly turned against him.

-Damian had a large family. His parents, a merchant father and a puritan mother, died alone in their home on the outskirts of Yharnam. One of Damian's sisters disappeared in Hemwick, an older brother was one of the White Doctors of the Church and was torn apart by a monster, another sister died in a fire in one of the stores in Yharnam where she worked. Younger brother Jiri is buried next to Hemwick, and of all his family, Jiri's grave is the most visited by Damian himself. The family had always held to the old faith and did not approve of the Church that had come, nor did they approve of Damian's involvement with it. If they found out he was a Tomb Prospector, there would probably be a major scandal!

-Rom was the first owner of Augur of Ebrietas! When these babies were found in the catacombs, she was the first to be able to bond with one of them.

-Imposter Iosefka hates Rom because she thinks she's too naive and delicate, but also envies her a little - Rom's research is approved by the vicar himself, she's helped by Caryll, and sometimes Micolash lends a hand. And Madlene does everything on her own. She also has to “save” Yurie from her attachment to Rom in a way, because Yurie has suffered a very painful heartbreak.

-Damian is a bit obsessed with the subject of children! And it's an oddity he's trying to hide. He would operate on himself to change his body and be able to have a child (if he could). But all he can do is secretly pray to Oedon that one day he will have a child, adopted or not

-In Byrgenwerth age Willem often had affairs with female teachers! He is not a bad poet, and therefore sometimes wrote something for the ladies and invited them to a joint evening C:

-Gremia's mother is from the same land as Laurence's mother

Logarius is my personal diva of Yharnam. I swear he would wear high heels and win in "Yharnam's next Top model"

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Thirteen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Series)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1885 in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Warnings: You and Loki journey to Jotunheim to find the orb. But when events turn for the worse...you decide to ask for help.

Chapter Warnings: Using an oldie but goodie fanfic trope (Court of Mist and Fury does it, so I decided to use it too), some insecurity and mutual pining, and mentions of past cheating with a character who isn't Loki. Fluff and Angst.

A/N: I am not 100 percent certain about the cannon world of Jotunheim, so I threw my hands in the air and cried "fuck it! Give them horses". The next chapters are coming in fast since work was slow and I used the time to write some first drafts. Hence the fast posting.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter

Dressed in your warmest coats and sheathed with daggers, you both went through the portal.

Jotunheim was still as bitter cold as ever. If only Loki could just create a portal within Jotunheim to land you right in the cabin! But no- that wasn’t in his abilities, as he kept reminding you whenever you began to complain. You had to travel through the blasted tundra. You trekked through the sharp wind and snow with Loki for a few hours. Thank goodness your fire floated in your hands and the movement gave you warmth. But you had yet to sense out where the cabin was. And now it was getting dark.

You used a certain creature to travel through- horses only known in Jotunheim. Like a regular horse. Only this one was a little bigger than normal. Bright white as the snow and that had crystals of ice on him. The Jotunheim Horses were immune to the cold- it was where they thrived. In fact, it grazed to eat the snow, swishing its blue tail and mane.

When you both got tired of walking, he used some of the money you had brought to rent a special horse of Jotunheim from a village. Like a regular horse that had crystals on them. Horses that were immune to the cold- it was where they thrived. Only barely larger than normal. You eyed the saddle nervously.

“I never even rode a normal horse before,” you said.

“Now, don’t be nervous my dear- here, I will show you how...” Loki guided.

He helped you up onto the saddle, you in front and him behind. You swung your legs to the side like you saw horsewomen in photographs back home do. He guided the reigns and as you both rode, gave you small instructions- keep your heels down. Stay calm. Flick the reigns to make them go faster, tug to make them stop or go slower. He even let you practice riding it for a couple of miles forward, the horse trotting at a calm pace.

“We’ve traveled for hours…but we cannot lose our place…” Loki said.

He checked the book again.

“It should be close…but it means it’s several hours of riding…”

He looked at you shivering.

“And we’ll need to stop…”

There was a city nearby. Some of the Frost Giant people gaped at you, but you ignored their starings. You checked the few inns in town. But it seemed many were full due to Starfall and those traveling to celebrate.

Finally, there was the third and last inn You both went inside, going up to the innkeeper at the wooden desk in the lobby. Her blue skin seemed to shine in the light and her red eyes were bright.

“We have good news, there is one room available for the night…” she announced.

“Oh, wonderful!” you cried.

She looked between you both.

“However, there is a problem…” she began.

There was only one bed. One comfortable, blanketed, bed in that room.

It was far too cold to lie on the floor for hours. You both would have to sleep in it.

Your heart raced a little- something so intimate! Something you would have never agreed to do a year ago…but now, what choice did you have?

Loki had nightclothes conjured for both of you. You fought back the memory of seeing him sleep semi-naked. You both had warm, thick nightgowns that were as white as the Jotunheim snow. You felt your eyes continue to flutter down to see the V of his own nightwear. The little bit of hair that poked out of his chest. But then forced them away.

Once it got dark, you both got into the bed. You and Loki turned around, him staring at the window and you at the wall.

The wind whistled sharply. Outside there were constant flurries of thick snowflakes. The cold air seeped through the room. Contrasting with the warmth of the blankets…and of your bedmate. Turning about, you had not fallen asleep yet. Your mind refusing to shut down despite the long day.

You kept thinking back, despite yourself, remembering the day you first spoke to him. The day he saved you at a price. But there was one little thing he said that still kept bugging you like an itch you weren’t allowed to scratch.

“Loki… are you awake?” you asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Why aren’t you asleep by now?”

You heard him flip over and you followed suit. His dark curls out of the way of his face. Both of you on your sides, facing each other.

“Because I was thinking of the day you appeared to me when we made the bargain.”

“Oh yes…and what made you recall that?”

“Well, the fact we keep ending in each other’s rooms in one way or the other!”

His own eyebrows briefly shot up, and there was a smile on the verge of a little laugh on his face, yet he remained quiet.

“It happened when I first met you- not counting when you were a cat…but there’s one thing you said I still muse on…it still makes me a little mad!” you blurted.

“Which one? My dear, I’m sure I said several things that enraged you back then…” he prodded

“That you were surprised I could talk back just because I’m a woman from my time.”

The other thought that was floating in your head was the memory of the letter to Cora you found- that one phrase that seemed like being stabbed in the gut. The one phrase that solidifed her superiority over you-“You are truly not like other women!”

Loki said no reply but merely listened.

“We’re people, like anyone else. We have feelings, like anyone else. Did you assume Just because we embroider and wear corsets that it means we’re boring or weak? We don’t enjoy being pushed around! We don’t like being mocked or hurt. And perhaps we aren’t all warriors, but that does not mean we are unworthy of respect! You should have seen my mother. I think she was far more in charge of our family than Papa ever was. Even Stella-Stella-said so to me that she wants Grendel and his army to, and I quote, ‘burn in hell.’”

“Norns above…” Loki muttered in reply.

“I can’t blame her after what they did to her…” you commented.

Loki furrowed his brow. He kept listening as you continued.

“It’s usually those who don’t know us who make such judgments. Who won’t even try to get to know us it…it…it’s comments such as these that make me so mad that I…I…”

The rest of the words failed you, and you paused. How much were you ranting about what he said…and how much were you ranting at the phrase in the letter? Perhaps he could tell. You were quite sure your shield was down. Loki only looked at you- realizing he had permission to speak.

“You were right back then. When I met you, I knew Thomas…but I never got to know a woman from your time. I made judgements and even jokes about it…but I didn’t truly know you then. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“Thank you. I forgive you, Loki,” you replied.

You turned around. Facing the wooden wall with a chair and table on the other side. The fireplace in the room was a mere, dying ember. The smoke was so thin, it was nearly invisible.

“I hate to disappoint you, Loki, but there is not much to me other than my magic. I’m just like every other woman…” you said.

You tightened the blanket around you, your knees hugging up to your chest. A lump in your throat. But you heard the trickster god shift forward. His voice right near your ear and his warm body against yours. Part of you fell stiff, yet also…comforted.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he consoled you.

You turned back over to look at him. You accepted his closeness as you faced each other. His nose mere centimeters from your own. His eyes were as blue as the skies of Asgard. You could smell your dinner on his breath.

“There are far worse things in life to be…but…”

His voice went back to that of teasing, a small smile on his face. He had to be at least a little mischievous while he was still awake.

“You could still improve your taste in wedding gowns…” he poked.

You cocked up an eyebrow.

“That’s rich coming from someone who wears ruffled blouses with his tuxedoes!” you shot back.

You both burst into laughter. You could still hear his rich baritone voice in his laughter. You could feel the rumbling in his body, his chest seemed to vibrate with the mirth.

“What can I say? I enjoy dressing with a little bit more flair...” he sad.

You shot him a smug grin.

“Well, if I can wear a ‘monstrosity of lace’ as you called it, you can wear your foppish tuxedoes!” you teased.

He laughed a little more. Then his voice became gentle.

“Though you did look lovely at the ball the other night,” he said.

“As did you,” you replied.

So close…he was so close. You could have just wrapped him in your arms. Perhaps you should have. His closeness made his warmth radiate toward you. Your own thoughts and memories were spoken, and your concerns were heard like the breaking of a long-held dam. And now that it was released, you began to feel sleepy.

You curled up next to each other, merely brushing each other’s skin. Warm and safe despite the howling wind. You whispered goodnight and turned around to your other side. At once, you drifted to sleep.

When you woke up briefly, it was still dark. Perhaps it was early in the morning. You were facing the wall on your side, but something felt different. Something solid and heavy was draped over your waist. Too heavy to be the blankets.

You looked down and realized with a small jolt of your nerves that it was Loki’s muscular arm.

He wrapped an arm around you while asleep.

Dammit, dammit, dammit, you kept repeating silently.

Should you move him? Wake him up? Oh dear lord, you felt his chest and stomach against your backside. If he was asleep it was likely he wouldn’t be…well, aroused. You would be in the uncomfortable position of feeling something against you that you didn’t want to right now. No- it was a sleepy, chaste embrace from behind.

You heard his small snore. Like that of a cat. It was adorable, you had to admit. So no…you didn’t have the heart to move. You felt in his arms that you were safe…no, more than just safe…wanted. Wanted so badly that his subconscious needed you close.

No, YN that’s an illusion, you mused.

And yet…

This is what my life could be…yet he’s a trickster god and full of mischief and flattery, if I became his beloved, he’ll betray me for another…I’m so…so horrible that even a vicar would break what he preaches for another woman’s bed just to get away from me. If that’s what he did, then, what would a god of mischief do!?…and yet-

It was warm and comfortable. If it was an illusion, One that felt real- one that was only real. If only for a few minutes. The embrace was known to husbands and wives and lovers when they slept with limbs entangled. An embrace you were destined to never know… except for now.

Pretending like it was that domestic, loving comfort…you found your own eyes drooping. Back asleep you fell and deeply.

When you woke up that morning, you saw the window on Loki’s side. You felt no arms and no weight anymore on it. It was empty, save for you. The sun seemed especially bright with the snow reflecting off it. It shot into the window, making you squint.

Shifting over in the bed, you realized Loki was already wide awake. Sitting on a chair near the bed, concentrating on the little vanity with a shiny red apple he placed there. With a flick of his hand, the apple vanished in green smoke. Then it would reappear in the next corner. He gave you a smile in greeting.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Practicing, my dear. It’s one thing to make a portal. It’s another thing to make something just vanish and take it somewhere else,” he answered.

“You’re working on it?” you cried.

“Practicing all morning. The furthest is four things that are not me. They can be sent several miles away…”

You felt the soft blanket, pulling it up to your chest.

He then used magic to have the apple reappear. He then placed it in his hand, shined it on his clothes, and took a bite with a loud crunch.

“It’s actually pretty easy. If I do it enough, I can do it without thinking.”

“Hmmm, It’s impressive…but please save an apple for me.”

He conjured one and threw it over to you. You caught it with both hands and thanked him.

After gathering more food, both of you mounted the horse and continued your long ride to the cabin. Stopping when needed, especially to check the map.

By now it was the late afternoon. But since Jotunheim was a land of eternal winter, the sky was dark. The snow kept falling and the cold wind kept howling at your side. But Loki’s company made it seem not as bad.

You finished the last of your bread and wiped the crumbs off of your mouth when you dismounted. Loki smiled as he showed you the map.

“Here- it’s not far…we’re almost there,” he promised.

You got out a carrot. The horse perked its ears. You offered it and the creature bit into it. It seemed that carrots were the universal favorite food of any kind of horse. You smiled and patted his long nose.

“What do you think of riding, my dear?” he asked.

“It’s a little nerve-wracking being on a living animal…but it can be fun. I’d like to learn more about it- I’m rather new and here we are.”

“When we return, I should let you practice with the horses we have. Perhaps I could show you how to ride with your legs over or even bareback! I’ve had years of training, you can trust me as an adequate teacher,” Loki proposed.

“Oh, Loki tell me- What kind of lessons does a prince have? What kind of classes or education? It must be interesting!” you commented.

He smiled at you. Going up to lift a hand to gently stroke the horse, brushing against the smooth ice crystals on its body.

“Well then, I remember there were etiquette lessons. Which is as fun for a little boy as you can imagine, but I managed to do well. Then we learned about how to use a sword and then we had to learn all of the history of-”

FWOOSH!

An arrow landed near your feet. You jolted with a small cry of surprise. The horse let out a cry with a raise of his front legs. Loki grabbed the reigns to try to calm him.

“Where did that come from?!” you cried.

You turned around and saw the answer.

Behind you were four men on Jotunheim horses of their own. The sadistic smiles on their faces and the dark armor on their clothes made your stomach heavy. They continued to ride, as one reached behind to get another arrow for his bow.

The breath stopped in your chest.

“Grendel’s men,” Loki breathed.

At once he threw you onto the horse and then got up himself. It was everything in you not to panic on the spot.

The horse galloped and held onto it for dear life. Looking back at the laughing, already triumphant soldiers with terrified eyes. Then you gritted your teeth in defiance of them. You let out a shaking hand, and the next arrows that were fired, you burned to ash to vanish in the wind.

But they were still gaining speed. The hooves of their own horses are like that of the drums before an execution. Loki kept urging the horse forward, too focused to create a duplicate or an illusion.

As all of you raced, you gained some distance away from them. Then they then fired another arrow. Faster than your flames could catch it.

Loki let out a yell of pain. You screamed out of instinct- an arrow landed in Loki’s right shoulder. It was black, full of grey smoke out of it like it was burning.

“YN, get it out! Quick!” he urged at you.

You let out a gasp and a small cry on instinct. But he kept riding. You turned around, and swiftly jerked it out, Loki letting out another groan of pain.

He then looked at the arrow in your hand, its swirling magic around it. His jaw dropped.

“No!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” you asked.

“t’s a Kunnigr arrow! They are known for eventually draining one of magic!” he explained.

“What?! No!”

Loki shot out only a little green light from his hands.

“It’s still there, but it’s running out…”

He then suddenly stopped the horse. He at once pulled you down to your feet.

“Loki- what are you doing?!” you cried.

He looked at you. Sadness and resolve on his face. Your heart beat hard in your chest. He then grabbed your shoulders and looked you in the eye.

“Quick-listen to me- listen to me, YN darling! While I still have a little magic- I’m going to send you far from them. Go. Go find the Cabin. Find the Orb. Here-”

He gave you a pocket watch from his pocket, placing it in your hand.

“When you do, Get a signal to Asgard. Someone will see it- and they will get you.”

“Loki- no! Just transport yourself too! I’m not leaving this realm without you!”

An arrow was shot, and you both narrowly dodged it. But a few inches and- you realized with dread- it would have hit you.

“I am armed, I can fight them- but we’re outnumbered. Their arrows could make you lose your magic. And they won’t stop until they have at least one of us. I only have enough magic to save the horse and the brave woman I made a bargain with. …”

Deep in your gut, you knew he was right. And you hated it. His smile was so beautiful, so sad. You felt as if your heart was both being ripped into pieces and bursting at once.

“This is for you…I’m proud of you, my little mortal.”

“Loki-” you voiced.

He lifted a hand and flicked the wrist.

With the last bit of magic he had left, green smoke appeared around you. The horse whinnied as the smoke surrounded it too And you vanished from the scene.

The Green smoke surrounded your vision. Then at once it drifted away and you were far off into a snowy woods in Jotunheim. It was lined with fur trees full of beautiful snow around them like necklaces. Only some were normal trees where they settled on their branches in blankets. You heard the horse trotting around, brushing its lips and shaking its mane.

You felt light headed You were safe, alive. A far distance off.

Then a few uncontrollable tears began to stream down your face, feeling like they could turn to ice against your skin. You felt like there was a hole in your chest. But your senses were alerting you…the cabin was close. Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you took the reigns of the horse and you both walked forward. It wasn’t too long- only ten minutes of walking, despite the frigid wind paining your face…

And there it was. Sure enough, there was the cabin.

The door was unlocked. Already there was a blazing hearth in fireplace, a warm bed full of thick quilts, and a table full of food that was still fresh. Chopped wood for the hearth sat in a pile next to an iron pot to use for cooking. When you walked over to the hearth, you could tell, right in the fireplace was the orb glowing bright orange. The source of this light and comfort, though you were certain no one lived here.

You got out the pocket watch from your side… you knew you should alert them. You knew you had it. It was what he told you to do…but could not make it to twelve to give the signal.

Loki…Loki…it then hit you, the weight on you. What he did…for the mission. And for you.

He was armed. He could fight them. The training he had all of his life couldn’t have been for nothing. But he was outnumbered. But still…without magic and outnumbered! Perhaps killed already!

You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t abandon him…and that was if he was still alive.

Despite your shaking, and your crying, your senses reached back. There was a mountain nearby. A familiar mountain…

And someone who would know if Loki still breathed.

You gathered a bundle of firewood and put them in your bag. Then you mounted the horse, both legs swinging off the saddle. Despite your nerves, your determination shot you forward. You were going to learn of Loki’s fate.

If he was dead, then you would go back to Asgard. It would be too risky to get his body. Tell the AllFather and AllMother of his last deed. So at least after his life, he would finally be seen as an equal, as a hero. And if he lived…you would do whatever you could to find him. Get him back.

You led the horse towards where you sensed the mountain and found the entrance. The place where the Jotun Prophet lived.

You rushed inside the cave. You down some of the wood and lit it with your fire. It crackled against the cave in echoes, its light illuminating the dark cave.

“Prophet! Prophet! Here’s my offering! Hurry! Please! It’s an emergency! I must speak with you- now!” you begged. Your voice echoed off into the infinity of black inside.

Sure enough, there were blue lights that glowed on the wall. And out walked the Jotun Prophet. Still with his proud, knowing smile.

“Oh, Mortal Lady, it’s you again…have you gained the wisdom to become engaged to an ugly priest this time? As you must have figured out by now, They don’t get half the attention from other women as the handsome ones do!”

You took a few steps forward. His red eyes remained calm and his smile remained gentle.

“This isn’t about any of that! It’s about Loki! He’s in danger! He could be hurt- or worse! Grendel’s soldiers ambushed us and he used the last of his magic to send me away! Please, Prophet, tell me one thing at least- is Loki still alive? Or are they going to kill him? Is this how he dies?”

The Jotun Prophet scratched his chin.

“Hmm, a god in distress...” he mused. He accepted the firewood. With some magic, it floated up in the air.

“They might have killed him by now- please! I’m begging you! Is Loki alive?”

The Jotun Prophet held up a hand as if to get you to calm down.

“They have abducted him. They’re tormenting him…but he is alive. There is nothing they love more than toying with their victims before they kill. But Loki is too valuable a prisoner for them to end his life just yet. They could use him to bribe the royal family of Asgard, hold him for the price of their domination of the kingdom or an alliance…so at least no killing yet. Even the most foolish of Grendel’s men know that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, the dizziness washing down you. Your vision blurred from the high and then returned back. The Prophet wasn’t retreating- so you asked another question.

“Tell me where he is! Where have they taken him?” you pleaded.

“They are…southeast from here, a few leagues.”

The Prophet lifted a blue finger and pointed in that direction.

Once you journey down there, you will sense where they are clear as day. They are camped at the ends of another great mountain. You will see smoke- a fire they made there. There you may find Loki. There you may save him. What a lucky coincidence you found that cabin…just take him there after. Let him rest his injuries..”

New tears came down your face, tears of deep gratitude.

“Thank you…”

You began to turn to hurry off. But after a few steps, you heard The Prophet call out.

“Oh! Mortal Lady! One more thing!”

You turned right around, nearly skidding on your feet. He walked up to be closer to you, the firewood floating by his side.

“Brunhilde flowers,” the prophet said.

“Brunhilde flowers?” you repeated, tasting the words in your mouth.

“Named for the strength of the renowned Valkyrie. They grow in Jotunheim. You can find them growing outside the cabin. It will restore strength and even magic to anyone. The petals and bulb are very bitter to the taste but crushed up and steeped in boiled water, it makes a decent tea. To make it work faster, It should take two days and one cup of tea or one flower per day. Along with long hours of rest. If he exerts himself, it will slow the healing down. Then his magic will return in its entirety. So be patient,” the Prophet explained.

He began to turn and walk into the dark. But you took one step closer to where he walked.

“So all I do is find the flowers and give it to Loki?” you questioned.

The Prophet paused. Then he turned around, with a small, if not mischievous smile.

“That is, if you wish to complete your True Love’s healing.”

[finisconoratopus]

29/07/24

Ancient Greek Summer School: II

So, I woke up after a restless sort of sleep at about 5am, which was not ideal. I couldn't sleep, though, and so I stayed awake. I read for most of that time but also did some journaling. Although I was planning to shower, I did not.

Breakfast was at 7:45, and I had a full English which was very good, and some extremely bitter coffee with it. Although I had forgotten my water bottle, I persisted. I chatted with friends and felt good to start.

At 9am, we had our first Ancient Greek lesson and it went very smoothly. There was a lot of reading aloud and on the spot translation, which was intimidating, but I was very good at it! We also were given our textbooks, which we get to keep. There are fish and plants outside of my classroom in an indoor pond, since it is ordinarily a biology room.

At 10:30, we had a coffee break, where I spoke to my friends on the intermediate course, and met someone else a year below me at college. It was nice to speak with everyone, and eat some biscuits.

We had our next lesson after that, and I started feeling a bit ill and irritable, probably from all the coffee accompanied by the heat and lack of water. During the lesson, I was fine, but I started feeling anxious and I left very soon after lunch began to go back to my room.

It was nice to be in my room, drinking water and getting the sickness out of my system (I feel fine now) as well as eating some snacks that I'm very glad to have brought. I did some homework, learning mostly the vocabulary and the definite articles (which I am being tested on tomorrow).

Our last session presented us with more revision for our quizzes tomorrow! We have to know the declensions of bainō, conjugation of kalos, the definite articles, and all of the vocabulary that came up in our translations from today. I actually feel confident, but I am worried that I will forget it all by tomorrow. Also, yes I have already filled up almost the entire pack of flashcards that I purchased this morning.

We had supper outside - me, the Welsh boy from my house, my partner, and a vicar's son who came over to us. It was nice to eat outside as opposed to in the true chaos that is the dining hall.

After that, my Welsh friend and I went back to our house to study some more, and then we went back to campus for our evening lecture about Odysseus. I was disappointed and felt the lecture to be basic. There was a chance to speak to him afterwards, which I did not take, although he seemed very nice.

When I got back to my dorm, I phoned my dad and he was relieved and proud of me being okay here. Then I studied for my quizzes tomorrow. My plan for the evening now, is to sign into my house for the night, read through the textbook section covered today, read my book, and sleep.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Devil's Foot pt 3

The last part of the story and still no devilish feet in sight. I have to assume it's the name of the drug at this point, because otherwise I don't know what's going on.

Last time Holmes and Watson did a very stupid thing and almost died a very stupid death. Then they declared their undying devotion to each other and it would have all been ever so sweet if I hadn't wanted to bonk their heads together to try to get their brains working via percussive maintenance.

⬆️Holmes and Watson's last two braincells there, right before they killed them inhaling an incredibly fast acting lethal poison.

"It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment."

Holy shit, that poison gave Holmes the ability to read my mind.

"But the cause remains as obscure as before."

I wonder. Could the weird poison that Holmes doesn't appear to have come across before possibly be linked to the famous explorer/adventurer/lion guy who has been to many exotic and distant locales?

Maybe?

Perhaps?

"I think we must admit that all the evidence points to this man, Mortimer Tregennis, having been the criminal in the first tragedy, though he was the victim in the second one. We must remember, in the first place, that there is some story of a family quarrel, followed by a reconciliation. How bitter that quarrel may have been, or how hollow the reconciliation we cannot tell. When I think of Mortimer Tregennis, with the foxy face and the small shrewd, beady eyes behind the spectacles, he is not a man whom I should judge to be of a particularly forgiving disposition."

Multiple murderers? How very un-Occam of you, Holmes. I did entertain the possibility for myself for a little while. But if he did the first one he must have been in league with the second murderer, or at least close enough that they knew what he'd done. (By second murderer, I mean lion guy. Unless it turns out to be the housekeeper getting revenge. The only other option is the vicar and he'd have to be supremely arrogant to have brought both crimes to Holmes' attention).

Also, we've been through how you shouldn't judge people's characters based on their appearance, well, not their facial features.

But yeah, this all lines up with what I was saying at the start before Lion guy showed up.

I had heard the click of the garden gate, and now the majestic figure of the great African explorer appeared upon the path.

In my head, this guy is literally just an anthropomorphic lion.

For a moment I wished that I were armed. Sterndale's fierce face turned to a dusky red, his eyes glared, and the knotted, passionate veins started out in his forehead, while he sprang forward with clenched hands towards my companion. Then he stopped, and with a violent effort he resumed a cold, rigid calmness, which was, perhaps, more suggestive of danger than his hot-headed outburst.

This is the sign of an entirely rational and calm human being.

"I have lived so long among savages and beyond the law," said he, "that I have got into the way of being a law to myself. You would do well, Mr. Holmes, not to forget it, for I have no desire to do you an injury."

Yep...

He's clearly in no way a danger to society.

Absolutely not. I would feel completely safe in his presence.

I do not understand why he has such a strong and obvious reaction to the first bit, then attempts to back pedal and be all 'No idea what you're talking about'.

I mean, I do get it, but I don't get why he thinks it's going to work. As previously stated he absolutely should keep asserting that he has no idea what they are talking about. But it's such a transparent ploy after he's already lost his cool.

"I saw no one." "That is what you may expect to see when I follow you."

This line goes hard.

I love it.

Ninja Sherlock

🥷

"Yes, Brenda Tregennis," repeated our visitor. "For years I have loved her. For years she has loved me. There is the secret of that Cornish seclusion which people have marvelled at. It has brought me close to the one thing on earth that was dear to me. I could not marry her, for I have a wife who has left me for years and yet whom, by the deplorable laws of England, I could not divorce."

ACD's war against the British divorce laws continues. I have tried to look up the history of divorce law in the UK, but it is an incredibly tangled web that I do not have the inclination to untangle at this time. Although I just learnt that until 2012 people in this country couldn't get married before 8am or after 6pm. Weird.

I think we can all agree, though, that ACD thought the divorce laws were bloody stupid and he was right.

On the outside was written "Radix pedis diaboli" with a red poison label beneath it. He pushed it towards me. "I understand that you are a doctor, sir. Have you ever heard of this preparation?" "Devil's-foot root!"

"The root is shaped like a foot, half human, half goatlike; hence the fanciful name given by a botanical missionary."

But how tho?

Which half? I don't understand how you can have half of each of these... does it have toes? Is it a hoof? How? I cannot work out what this would look like at all.

Does it have five little hoof toes?

I don't understand.

"Among other things I exhibited this powder, and I told him of its strange properties, how it stimulates those brain centres which control the emotion of fear, and how either madness or death is the fate of the unhappy native who is subjected to the ordeal by the priest of his tribe."

Mortimer. Mortimer, Mortimer, Mortimer. You're dead, so I guess this doesn't really matter now, but you don't... take the incredibly obvious poison from the incredibly mentally unhinged man and then use it when he's still in the country. Not when it has such obvious and unique effects. This is what is called Bad Planning and Obvious.

It's like you wanted him to kill you. Is that victim blaming? probably. But you're also a murderer, so... does it balance out?

Also, Mr Lion Man, don't... tell people about your weird crazy poisons and then follow it up with 'also you could kill people with it in this country and law enforcement would never be able to detect it, lol.' Especially not if you're suspicious of the guy.

So many bad decisions in this story.

"I well remember how he plied me with questions as to the amount and the time that was needed for its effect, but I little dreamed that he could have a personal reason for asking."

Yeah, because that's a really unsuspicious line of questioning.

'So, this undetectable horrific poison. How much would I need to use... hypothetically, of course... to like... kill three people. In a room the size of... ooh, say my siblings' card room? And how long would it take? Just asking... out of curiosity. No reason other than purely scientific interest. I'd never actually kill anyone with it. Bu-ut if I wanted to...'

Lion man... you should not be allowed access to hazardous materials. Your OSHA compliance is poor. That needs to be in a locked poison cabinet. You shouldn't be handling it without PPE and you definitely shouldn't be letting untrained and unvetted people in there.

"My soul cried out for revenge. I have said to you once before, Mr. Holmes, that I have spent much of my life outside the law, and that I have come at last to be a law to myself."

But sure, he can get off because he was killing the first murderer... I guess. I'm not as sympathetic towards him as I've been towards previous people. Maybe because he doesn't strike me as the kind of person for whom this was his first or last kill. His reaction to Holmes seems like he's prepared to just murder anyone who gets in his way. Previously the people Holmes has let go have been people who killed as a last desperate attempt to free themselves or were pushed too far past their breaking point in one instance.

This guy just... seems like he wouldn't bat an eyelid at killing again. And again. And again. For far less reason.

"And now, my dear Watson, I think we may dismiss the matter from our mind and go back with a clear conscience to the study of those Chaldean roots which are surely to be traced in the Cornish branch of the great Celtic speech.”

I still think this is nonsense, but sure. I have discovered that apparently someone somewhere apparently wrote Holmes' paper on the subject and published it in 1998. Which is a thing.

Thanks Watson for warning me against poisoning myself. I'll bear that in mind. Perhaps you could take your own medical advice?

[titleleaf]

"The critics seemed to agree that Fuseli had personified an idea. The question was, what exactly was the idea?

Where paintings of visions were concerned, the critics seemed much more comfortable describing the visual conventions than they were at explaining what all this might mean. It took a Church of England vicar, Rev. Robert Anthony Bromley, Rector of St Mildred's in the Poultry, to be the first to suggest that The Nightmare might after all be about sex. In the first volume of his Philosophical and Critical History of the Fine Arts — Painting, Sculpture and Architecture (1793), Bromley included in his chapter on 'the qualifications essential in the constitution of moral painting' a longwinded sideswipe at Fuseli's picture. He did not mention the artist by name but he did not need to:

the dignity of moral instruction is degraded, whenever the pencil is employed on frivolous, whimsical, and unmeaning subjects The Night-mare, Little Red Riding Hood [exhibited by Maria Cosway at the Royal Academy in 1783], The Shepherds Dream, or any dream that is not marked in authentic history as combined with the inspiring dispensations of Providence, and many other pieces of a visionary and fanciful nature, are speculations if it be right to follow Nature, there is nothing of her here, all that is presented to us is a reverie of the brain mere waking dreams, as wild as the conceits of a madman. [A recent commentator] very properly calls these persons 'libertines of painting': as there are libertines of religion, who have no other law but the vehemence of their own inclinations

In strongly implying that Fuseli was among the 'libertines of painting', Bromley was breaking new ground. Maybe The Nightmare was an example of the kind of libertine art which had been exhibited in recent Paris salons, or was known to be collected for private consumption by well-heeled connoisseurs. The Philosophical and Critical History continued - at great and pondero's length - to enunciate the principles that 'whatever is outré and extravagant can never be beautiful' and 'whatever is empty or poor of sentiment cannot instruct any persons'. Fuseli was furious. He took bitter offence at Bromley's attack on The Nightmare' it was one thing to encourage a public reputation for eccentricity and even for being 'Painter in ordinary to the Devil' - Fuseli did that whenever the opportunity arose, and on one occasion said of his diabolic reputation 'Aye, he has sat for me many times' - it was quite another to be publicly accused of being a libertine, especially to someone who was desperate to be accepted by the artistic establishment. So Fuseli wrote an ill-tempered notice of Bramley's book in the Analytical Review (July 1793]:

the whole [of Bromley's book] is delivered in the style and with the somnific loquacity of a drowsy homily ... the reader will forgive us if we refuse to enter into a more circumstantial analysis of a work which to us appears to have hardly any other title to grave consideration than its size …

Not content with this (the 'size' reference may have been an echo of criticisms made of himself), Fuseli then took part in a debate at Somerset House which resulted in the Royal Academy cancelling its subscription to the second volume of Bramley's History. This debate took place on 20 February 1794, and during the course of a heated discussion (which resulted in a vote seventeen to four in favour of cancellation), Fuseli's friend the painter Joseph Farington (1747-1821) helped to swing it by stating that 'a man who had written with so little delicacy on the works of living artists already might well traduce 'in his future volumes the professional characters of the very persons then assembled'. The vicar responded to these 'few men, acting in an Academic capacity' - and to Fuseli's 'shallow and contemptible objections' - in a series of seven letters published in the Morning Herald."

"Fuseli's The Nightmare: Somewhere Between The Sublime And The Ridiculous", Christopher Frayling (from Gothic Nightmares: Fuseli, Blake, and the Romantic Imagination)

[stellevatum]

Screw it: Three of you liked my post, not feeling with drafts, bored at work and I'm in a Halcyon verse mood, so yeah. Content!

This does not reflect on anyone writing these characters (though it would be neat if those writing them adopt these).

Kar's dynamics within the Unreliable:

Hawthorne/The Stranger: Kar only briefly knew the real Alex, not enough to vibe, so it's a blank slate here. At first she's little cold and bitter towards them; Welles did promise to get her sister out of cryo, but as he was in a time crunch it was the Stranger's pod he revived instead. Once she works through that, they are on very good terms and become good friends and allies, especially in the days to come.

ADA: Kar and ADA are on good terms, inasmuch as a sentient astronagivator and an expert on synthetics and ships can be. It did not surprise Kar when she came aboard, given the level of intelligence of synthetics from home. ADA was always another part of the crew to her. She has quickly adapted to understand binary, and you can sometimes find Beedee in the captain's chair chatting away.

Parvati: Probably the first of the crew for her to be less business-like with. Given Kar's technical skills helped them colonize, it's safe to say engineering is their common ground. And of course, Beedee helps, being as cute as he is. Vati gets little sister-ed in her brain, and given Kar's known the Tennysons since before the jump, is more than happy to see both Junlei and Parvati happy. (It takes a bit for Parvati to realize the strange lady that saved the worker from being crushed by crates in Edgewater years ago and Kar are the same.)

Max Pre-Scylla: She hates him. He's a Board shill. She enjoys their conversations; he's the closet one to understand her constant internal conflict. She is torn with wanting to stick him in a jar and study him like an insect and beating the shit out of him whenever he opens his mouth. She wants to push every button to see what ticks. Kar and Max share witty barbs as much as they academically debate the nature of things. And likely once he even got floored by her in the cargo bay when they opted for fists instead of words. (You know Felix, Ellie, and Nyoka were straight up not missing this.)

Max Post-Scylla: I think things are certainly less antagonistic and respectful-- they're colleagues and friends now that he's experienced ego death. The-Vicar-but-not-quite and The-Jedi-but-not-quite. Now that's he's more opened up to listening, there's less hands being thrown. (At each other at least.)

Felix: Boy may not be the sharpest crayon on the tree, but Force guide and protect him. His heart (and persistence) caused her to warm towards him. Between him and Max she still doesn't have half a fucking clue what goes on in Tossball, but she tries. Teaches him a little hand-to-hand, whether or not it sticks is another thing. Has to try hard not to "uh acshually" the science in some of the aetherwave serials they watch together, but all in all, she's kinda his smarter older sister who he knows better not cross-- but still a good sparring buddy if she's down.

Ellie: As freelancers, the good doctor and Kar have crossed paths, but not enough for either to have any real rapport until the Unreliable. In a ship full of nosy neighbors, (and given Ellie's predisposition to keeping a distance) they both share respect and relief of someone minding their own business. They aren't besties, but they aren't on bad terms. There to share a drink and occasionally pick each other's brain on something, but that's really it. And for them, that's fine.

Nyoka: Nyoka and Kar already have established history before this, so she's the second of the crew for Kar to "warm up" to. Despite the Board blockade, Kar has managed to be a frequent visitor to Monarch; in particular to Amber heights. Nyoka first thought her crazy to go out in the wilds by herself, but after first hand seeing Kar handle herself...still thought she was crazy. For other reasons. Theirs is the mutual respect of survivors, hunters, if not friends. And it doesn't hurt Kar's more than willing to cover a drink (or five).

SAM: Kar would love to give SAM a little more sentience, but overall, he's a good, if misguided automech. Beedee can sometimes be found, taking a ride on his shoulders when Kar is otherwise occupied.

[bloodytornwings]

Impure thoughts

Unclean acts

Guilty of the smallest sin

She’s my Catholic Sex Kitten

She delivers temptation

I love her more than Jesus

When we pray she always hears us

Impure thoughts

Unholy tastes

An angel's body and a sinner’s face

For the innocent dare not look at her

Take my blood and the body of christ

Sold short on this life

The things we must do to survive

The runt of the litter still standing strong

But not bitter

She’s so sweet but must be so sore

All your sins fulfilled in the eyes of the lord

Time for the confession box

Turn the air blue and knock off his socks

You confess your sins and make vicars hard

You cut up lines with your library card

The vicar sweats holy water

As he watches her with his daughter

Daddy’s little girl, sweet and plain

But backstage you go like a train

[x2]

Hail Mary full of grace

There’s something dripping down your face

Her pants came down, she made her choice

Jesus wept as she got moist

Clutching prayer beads

Thinking of carnal needs

Like a porn star, you’re defiled

The priest is in denial

Clutching prayer beads

Thinking of carnal needs

Will you wear white when you’re taken up the aisle?

Banger

[blackbutlercharacterpoll2023]

The following is the lineup for the polls by date, made using a random number generator. New characters introduced in chapter 199 will automatically be added to the end of the roster.

April 19th - April 26th

Chlaus

Rian Stoker

Lord Ackroyd's son

FOL Orphanage staff

Timber

Claude Faustus

Tanaka

Conny

Emily

Baldroy / Bard / Baldo

Finnian / Finny

Sharpe Hanks

Mabel

Burnett

April 20th - April 27th

Soma's elephant

Beast

Sophie Smith

Theodore

Finny's hat

Funtom Corporation's unicorn suit

Karl Woodley

Oscar

Chris Heathfield

Sieglinde Sullivan

Fred Abberline

Stella Rose

Charles Phipps

the orphan that called Sebastian an old guy

April 21st - April 28th

Nick

Joanne Harcourt

Purple House dorm master

Agni / Arshad Satyendra Iyer

Yana Toboso

Grete Hilbard

the Mad Dog of Venice

Abbie

Johnny

Mina

Rachel Phantomhive

Charles Phipps's chicken

Haku

Sascha

April 22nd - April 29th

Jumbo

Mrs. Mayell

Goethe

the Rowdy Count

Georg von Siemens

Margaret Connor

Al

Cedric Brandel

Mathilda Simmons

Wendy

Sam / Old Man Sam

Grelle Sutcliff

Ellery Nixon

Eric Slingby

April 23rd - April 30th

Edward Midford

Luka Macken

Queen Victoria

Lord Ackroyd

Layla

the other children in the lab Finny was kept in

Betty

Reaper trainees

Green House dorm master

Vincent Phantomhive

Drossel Keinz

Kelvin

Lawrence Bluewer's sisters

Charles Grey

April 24th - May 1st

Margaret Turner

Akashi

Snake

Edgar Redmond

Derrick Arden

Ronald Knox

Aurora Society member

Bloodbath Johnny

Wilde

Soma Asman Kadar

Claude's birds

Sebastian's silverware

Chef Rickman

Susannah Connor

April 25th - May 2nd

Susan

Artie

Damian

John Brown

Saneatsu Nekoma

Peter

Lawrence Anderson / Pops

Chef Wollest

Chris Heathfield's maids

demon Crow

Nina's assistants

Ludger

Prince Albert puppet

Miranda

April 26th - May 3rd

Blavat Sky

Vicar Rathbone

Julius Pitt

walking stick shopkeeper

Grimsby Keane

Ciel's horse

Edward V

Jay the Undertaker

Gregory Violet

Canterbury

Jeremy Rathbone

Doctor

the cat from the live action movie

Henry Barrymore

April 27th - May 4th

Lawrence Bluewer

Prince Albert

Higham

the Panzer

the train kidnapper

Donne

Heinrich

Chef Lach

Dagger

Doll / Freckles

Sam's grandson

Bitter Rabbit

Japanese man with a katana

"Ciel" Phantomhive / Our Ciel / O!Ciel

April 28th - May 5th

Mey-Rin

Undertaker's mourning lockets

Webster

Purple House prefect from Vincent's year

Patrick the Grey Wizard

Diedrich

Johann Agares

Bronte

Carter

Othello

the cultists

Baldroy Jr.

John Brown's horse

Sphere Music Hall staff

April 29th - May 6th

Jackknife Haywood

Nina Hopkins

William's death scythe

Angela Blanc

Wolfram Gelzer

McDowell

Ronald's lawnmower

Arthur Randall

Aleister Chamber / Viscount of Druitt

Keats

Annie

Terry

Hao

Maria

April 30th - May 7th

Irene Diaz

Polaris

beggar boy that Soma gives a necklace to, mother, and baby brother

kenpo master

Red House dorm master

Ran-Mao

Shiori Genpou

Cedric K. Ros

Lau

Clayton

William T. Spears

Patrick Phelps

Japanese woman with a lunchbox

Oliver

May 1st - May 8th

Arthur Conan Doyle

the bear

Grelle's chainsaw

Trancy / Former Head Trancy

Richard

Aristocrat of Evil with the scarred face

the archeologist

Joker

Jan

the cats Sebastian rescues from the rain

Hilde Dickhaut

Rin

Cloudia Phantomhive

"Deer"

May 2nd - May 9th

King's Bear prostitutes

McMillan

"Her"

Undertaker's death scythe

Daniel

Ginny

Sieglinde Sullivan's father

Charles Bennett Sato

demon Ciel

Ada

Arnold Trancy

Ciel Phantomhive bizarre doll / Real Ciel / R!Ciel

Arihito Genpou

Thomas Wallis

May 3rd - May 10th

Chef Tarpin

Queen Victoria (Season 1)

Lau's ladies

Fennian

Harold West Jeb

Nicholas

Professor Sullivan / village crone

Anne Drewanz

CGI horses / driver

Margaret Connor's father

Ciel Phantomhive child / R!Ciel child

Jane

Paula

Wordsworth

May 4th - May 11th

Maurice Cole

Alexis Leon Midford

bizarre dolls

the turnspit dog

the "werewolves"

O!Ciel's land renters

priest

Pluto

Sebastian the dog

Red House prefect from Vincent's year

the Sebastian Roomba

bizarre doll horses

Baldroy's cow

Undertaker

May 5th - May 12th

Hanae Wakatsuki

the iceberg

Alan Humphries

Ash Landers

Thompson

Snake's unnamed snakes

Milly

Munemitsu Aoki

Alois Trancy / Jim Macken

Elizabeth Midford / Lizzy

Aurora Society purified water seller

Drossel's dolls

the timetable guy

Herman Greenhill

May 6th - May 13th

Azzurro Vanel

William's pigeons

Joanna

Reaper managers

Dove

Countess Trancy and her baby

German countryman

Scotland Yard officers

Haku's henchman

Lorraine McDowell

demon "pet" (the xenomorph)

Hannah Annafellows

Angelina Dalles / Madam Red / Aunt An

Pitt

May 7th - May 14th

Vincent Phantomhive's staff

Paul Jones

Francis Midford

Sebastian Michaelis

Cheslock

Phantomhive family ring

James

Edward Abberline

Baron Ridley

Sebastian's owl

[mikhailovv]

Portrait of Laurence the First Vicar—former Byrgenwerth student who aimed to be a cleric, when he discovered the old blood he departed from his schooling to set up the Healing Church. A sharp, bitter man, he had good intentions at heart—losing himself in work and stress more often than not.

[sinecosinewheel]

@galaxirin @bornetoblood

😭 i rly am the amelia guy huh (nm about it!)

- How I feel about this character

to start, she is my funny guy. in-game i think she's an awesome depiction of the healing church's state, the last vicar is powerless to do anything but pray, alone, clutching the medallion of her predecessor who all but set her up to fail. she's both a tragic figure, and the highest remaining member of the organization who doomed the town. in my hcs she is all of that, and she regularly mulches and beheads people, and she likes bugs. she is my funny guy!

- All the people I ship romantically with this character

hmmm. melia x early retirement. jshdj fr I don't have any specific characters? maybeeee henriett? ok wait i like to think she's henryk's great grand niece or smth and theyre really on the nose w/ the names. ok divergence, my henriette hc is that she was rejected from the church hunters and inherited her old mans Old Hunter style duds nd started vigilante mushing beasts w/ her kirkhammer pro bono. so tool of the institution x bitter rogueish vigilante. plus u summon henriett for melias fight so putting down an old flame .... i have successfully talked myself around to this ship let's get it 🎉

- My non-romantic OTP for this character

she really could've used some guidance other than laurence in her life, so i like to think she would've found a mentor in maria, had maria lived long enough to meet her. rlly tho most people were scared shitless of her and/or intimidated by her status so she had no non-killing, non-laurence social outlets. i haven't arbitrarily picked and made up a backstory wholecloth for an npc hunter to be her dead friend yet but also them lmao 😭

- My unpopular opinion about this character

slamming my fists on the ground beating my head on the wall SHE DOES NOT LOOK LIKE, I QUOTE, 'THE SEXY DOG FROM OLIVER AND COMPANY'!!!!!!

ok that's a personal grievance but i stand by it. umm i wish she showed up again? not sure if that's unpopular but i don't think many people think of it. like maybe she could've showed up in the hunters nightmare...even as a gorpse.....or had more item descriptions ab her!! i want the bell ringing woman set!!!

- One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon

hrmm i wish we could have gotten to see more of her in general!! the fight intro cutscene is fucking iconic but maybe she could've been an npc u can talk to... and then u have to fight her when u progress the night farther... n u could start her fight early like the dancer in ds3 by attacking her and get an alt intro cutscene....basically just any content of how the church worked, or what her role was before everything exploded i think

- My OTP

apparently amelia x henriett! news to me. real enemiesish to lovers opposing forces attract type shit here

- My crossover ship

ourgh. hmm maybe millicent elden ring or emerald herald ds2? maybe the ds2 miracles lady lmao melia would in her head b like my dads a much better grifter than her...shes silly i like her :) n the miracles lady is into muscles maybe. idk lmao it could be unhealthy, it could lead to melia unlearning some toxic shit bc the miracles lady is like a cartoonishly over exaggerated version of the people she was raised with, i don't even remember her name though x.x

- A headcanon fact

i stg this entire post has been a headcanon fact lol 💀 uhm uh oh lol we are ending on a sad one heehee. so u know how vicar amelia boss form is covered in bandages? after the school of mensis began kidnapping blood saints the healing blood of the healing church began to run dry, leading yharnam citizens to seek it from other sources, like certain prostitutes with special blood. seeing no other course and to uphold the legitimacy of the church's special blood, the vicar underwent the mysterious process of becoming a blood saint herself and all but bled herself dry to make up for the demand

[tctteredwings]

[ leo woodall, cis man, he/him ] — whoa! LEO DARBY just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 8 YEARS, working as the OWNER OF KITTY AND BREW. that can’t be easy, especially at only 30 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit ABSENT-MINDED and IMPULSIVE, but i know them to be COMPASSIONATE and HONEST whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to BROOKLYN! 

IN A NUTSHELL; yes that is cat hair on your sleeve, a strong cup of tea constantly in hand, scuffed-up timberland boots, the battle scars of a life lived with love, bedhead at any time of the day, a far-off look in your eyes, the worn pages of an old bible.

tw: bullying

Name: Leo Darby Nicknames: None Age: Thirty Date of birth: 1st January 1994 Birth place: London, UK Occupation: Owner of Kitty and Brew Romantic/sexual orientation: Heteroromantic/bisexual

ABOUT.

Leo never knew his parents, not really. His father walked out the moment that he found out Leo’s mother was pregnant and she — well, she was deemed an unfit parent shortly before his second birthday. He has never been told the full details and still isn’t entirely sure he even wants to know.

Placed into the fostering system, he moved back and forth between families for the next seven years. It was always said that they’d find him a ‘forever home’ but for some reason it took time. It took so much time that it reached a point where he found himself convinced that nobody wanted him —- that he’d be bounced back and forth until he turned eighteen, when he was forced to go out into the world alone. For a child, it wasn’t the greatest start in life to have.

But he was resilient, and at nine, he was adopted by a young couple, who also happened to live in the town he had been born in. From that moment on, his life changed considerably. Finding himself in an extremely religious family, Michael following a calling to ministry, Leo found it almost impossible to stay bitter. From the moment the Darbys adopted him, he was loved unconditionally and always free to make his own decisions in life.

As the days went by, he chose to attend church services with his newly found parents, celebrating along with the rest of the family when his father was appointed as vicar at their local church.

A year or so after his adoption, they also adopted another child and for the first time in his life, he found himself with a sibling.

Before long the family moved from the small flat they had been living in and into a four-bed house, one that was much closer to the church. Leo was fourteen at the time and, unfortunately, his pride in his father wasn’t seen as cool in high school. Seen as only the vicar’s son, he was often thought of as somebody to corrupt, to drag down as far as possible. His teen years were the worst of his life, finding himself bullied daily, the other children in town intent on ruining the perfect life he’d built up over the last four years.

And so Leo became withdrawn, he began to only spend time with children much younger than him, knowing that they didn’t care where he came from. But, despite the aversion to how he was being brought up by other parties, he knew that he wanted to follow in a similar path to his father once he left school. Perhaps not ministry, nothing quite so serious, but just some way of helping out in the world. He would spend night after night in front of the computer researching, clicking through website after website until he found the answer. Missionary work seemed like the perfect solution and so, after finishing high school, he found himself a placement and travelled to Zambia.

Living and working in Africa certainly wasn’t something he’d thought he would do when he was a child, heart set on being a firefighter when he was five, but he couldn’t have asked for anything more rewarding than being able to help the children out there. Perhaps the job he had out there wasn’t as impressive as some might have thought, but for him, however, the fact he was doing anything to help was enough. He couldn’t have waited another three years to pick up a degree before travelling out there; he only knew he needed to help as soon as he possibly could.

Following two placements, both around two years long, it was time to finally come home again. A decision partly spurred on by a breakup with someone he had met while out there. He hated that it was something so fickle that caused him to leave, but the pair couldn’t have gone on as they were. Living out of one another’s pockets when things were so awkward wasn’t something he could have lived with for more than a couple of months. He left abruptly, choosing to take six months out to travel around Africa, taking in the sights for the first time and even going on safari for a while.

After almost five years away, he knew that moving back home again would be difficult. He didn’t have many friends there anymore, nor a career to speak of, and aside from his parents and his siblings, it was going to be a little like starting over. So in the end, he chose not to go back, he'd caught the travel bug and that was how he ended up in New York City.

Starting over was something he was familiar with, but that didn't mean the move was easy. To begin with, in fact, he was bouncing back and forth between different apartments, working three jobs at a time, anything to keep himself afloat.

The combination of cats and coffee came around four years into his move, a labour of love brought about after spending countless hours at the local adoption centre. He knows Kitty and Brew isn't exactly known for its coffee, but he hopes the tea is at least up to scratch, as well as the opportunity to meet a new feline friend to take home one day. Rehoming has always been at the heart of the business.

In recent years he's been looking into his biological parents and made the discovery that his father had another family when he was born. He was never really destined to be in Leo's life. Along with the discovery was the realisation he had other siblings, something he's been wrestling with ever since, trying to decide how to move forward.

HEADCANONS.

One of Leo's proudest moments was when he swam with sharks while out travelling around South Africa.

He owns four cats, all adopted from the local shelter, named Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan.

He loves to read and even has a used bookshelf at the back of the coffee shop for people to borrow books and donate books.

[lonelier-version-of-you]

All in all, I thought tonight’s episode of Casualty was really quite good.

The Rash and Ashok storyline is shaping up to be great, although it’s an emotional watch. My one criticism would be that I think they’ve rushed into the storyline a bit too quickly, but other than that, I think overall it has very strong potential. And obviously it’s an important storyline to tell.

The actors involved are great, too, as I mentioned last week. Kriss Dosanjh is great as Ashok himself, and Neet Mohan is playing Rash’s reactions just brilliantly. Neet’s acting in the panic attack scene and then the scene on the bench with Paige was particularly fantastic.

Paige and Rash had actual chemistry tonight for the first time in ages, as well, even though I am still confused because I honestly thought they’d broken up ages ago. I’ve mentioned Neet Mohan’s acting in the panic attack scene already, but Shalisha James-Davis was great in it too.

Speaking of breakups, Marcus and Stevie are over... apparently. I’d like to be able to say I think this breakup will last, but I doubt it.

I’m really starting to see what Jon Sen meant about Marcus being coercive. Whenever I think Marcus can’t be more of a prick, he manages to be more of a prick. And the spoilers for the next episode... wow, he’s really crossed a line there, what the fuck. But this isn’t about the spoilers so I won’t go on about those.

I continue to adore Stevie, and to think she reminds me of both Henrik and Gaskell. She’s great. I loved her in that scene with the vicar lady on the bench especially. Oh, Stevie, the queen of being a Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss.

Although I’d appreciate Casualty not rubbing in what Holby did to Jac, thanks, I will admit I laughed when Jonty said Jac never slept with anyone to get further in her career. Two words: Lord Byrne.

I liked the variety of patients tonight. The storyline with Sam, the man with schizophrenia, was absolutely heartbreaking, but he was written and acted really well.

(Also... look at Casualty, managing to portray someone with delusions of grandeur sympathetically, rather than framing them as terrifying out-of-control villains. If only Holby could’ve done the same, huh? And yes, I know I make every well-done psychosis storyline on Casualty into a “imagine if John Gaskell had been handled with this kind of respect” thing, and it’s probably annoying, and I’m sorry, but I’m still so bitter about the Gaskell storyline - maybe because I’d just had some major struggles with my own mental illnesses at the time.)

Does anyone care about Paul? When he was onscreen, I busied myself with checking social media.

Dylan was great in this episode. Dylan is, of course, always great, but I really liked him tonight. Seeing him trying to support Rash was lovely.