#brennan what have you done

[bacchuschucklefuck]

this whole thing being abt rage is also really interesting. I feel like it comes up so much in fiction as a motive because it's the one emotion that's unifyingly restless while everything else can be petrifying, and just personally nothing hits like impotent rage for me, esp. with teen characters, esp. with characters whose rage is stoked by Someone Else to further that Someone Else's cause. like you'll have done all that in a bout of passion and when you're done you look around you and nothing has changed. those sentiments don't get quelled by being satisfied. righteousness withdrawal is a horrible thing to intentionally drag someone into, least of all just some kids.

[vague-mintyboy]

I am rewatching Misfits and Magic in preparation for the new season, and I am determined to figure out the exact date when The wizarding world of Misfits and Magic (WWMM for short) cut off technologically. I mean like Brennan keep saying, everything is technology so at some point the world was contemporary. So I will be keeping track of specific technology that stands out. I will update this post as I watch.

I will not count technologies an individual may have as some wizards are shown to have family etc in the NAMP world. This is a list of the wildly accepted technology.

So far no travel technology canonically described (in no real order)

Notable known technology

- Velocipede bicycles

Invented June 12, 1818.

So far this is the most recent date we can get. This specific type of hike also comes up in episode 2 so it isn’t a one-off from a more open-minded character. Dr. Boodle even implies that the school offers students complementary velocipedes in episode 2, so this technology is not considered out of place in the WWMM

- Tobacco pipe

While pipes in general can be traced back to Ancient Egypt, English Pipes do not become popularized until the late 1500s with the colonization/subsequent genocide of Indigenous Americans. This is when Tobacco in particular gets pairs with Pipes as it is native to the Americas.

- Parchment

Invented in Pergamum, 1500 BC.

However, it is not popular in England until seemingly 1500 CE, so this date keeps coming up.

- Indoor plumbing for water but not toilets

(so far unclear if that includes sinks or a water pump or what)

I knew this was going to give me trouble. Also TW a lot of literal shit talk.

Plumbing in general can be dated back to the Neolithic period but Aabria does say they have water pipes. If we are assuming these pipes are iron, and the typical shape then this would date to 1455

However, we can get more specific as the use of toilets/plumbing integrated gives us a cut off date. While again there are examples of various cultures using water to clean their versions of toilets, the flushing toilet is not invented until 1775.

This creates a problem. As shown Velocipedes were not invented at 1818. However, this could mean than instead of a single cut-off date, the transition to seclusion was slightly more gradual. As the lack of toilets seems to me more systematically in-forced (while velocipedes are easier to integrate) I am confident to say that by 1775 the wizarding world began to close itself off but had not fully done so. It also makes sense for typical public toilets/latrines not to be integrated into wizarding society as those are unhygienic and so a magical solution would be warranted, and that would still fit the contemporary needs. Furthermore the idea of pooping somewhere and then cleaning it matches with the social etiquette of latrines (versus just magicing away the waste pre-actual pooping.) this shows that socially pre-1755 the wizarding board was contemporary with medieval Europe.

- Pushbroom

Evan’s broom is specifically called a pushbroom. The pushbroom’s patent was filed in 1950! However, I could attribute this to the broom shop owner being particularly connected to the outside world? Or maybe it is just an older broom that looks similar to a pushbroom so Evan calls it that.

- Mop

Traditional mops (not just rags) seems to appear by the late 15th century for ships, and the idea is popular in association with more general cleaning by the 1840s.

- toffee

Toffee first becomes a word for candy around 1843. However, this was a general word for taffy-like candy. English toffee seems to be often dated to from around 1890s but that date is unreliable. https://www.etymonline.com/word/toffee

- Tea

Tea does not arrive in Europe until the 1600s from China. At the start, tea was still consumed like Chinese tea (no milk or sugar, etc). England then takes over the industry in 1858 with the government taking over the East India Company / relying on colonized India for tea production instead of China. However, this didn’t really affect popular culture / tea consumption habits until the 1900s and then really boomed in WWII.

I do admit that a handful of savvy more-modern Wizards could have taken tea’s popularity and broke into the untapped Wizard Market. However, even then you’d expect to see some sort of cultural difference (like how McDonald’s in different countries all have different menus, etc).

Notable technology not known about

- Nukes

We know definitively that nukes are not generally known about, so the WWMM is definitely completely closed off by 1945 bc even if there was slight connection people would know. Even if the WWMM closed after because of nukes people would know.

- Radio

Repeatedly radio is confirmed to be foreign. Radios were invented in 1899, and audio transmissions were then added in 1906.

Conclusion so far:

The WWMM was relatively contemporary with NAMP Britain through the 1500s. However, by 1755 WWMM began to close itself off. At least, architecture stopped being updated with modern plumbing which reflects a larger systematic shift. However, there was still a steady exchange of ideas through the 1840s, as tea, velocipedes, toffee, and modern mops all are treated as everyday items. However, by 1906 major technological trends went unnoticed, and certainly by 1945 the WWMM was completely cut off from world-wide news.

I feel like it is likely that by 1906 the WWMM stagnated completely and looked relatively the same to season 1’s world.

Currently, my theory is the political strife leading up to WWI, likely before the actual war, lead to the intellectual closure of the WWMM. However I will repost/update this with any new info. Also feel free to add your own insights.

[gemstarstarlight]

IDK if you've seen Crown of Candy yet, but it's treatment of Not-Christianity is much better even if ultimately still negatively-oriented. It's more centered around the historical institution with Not-God being more of a force than a sapient being, and the pagan representation turns out to be sinister so it's consistent in not endorsing any strain of divinity in particular. Ravening War likewise does some interesting stuff with church-drama that doesn't cast genuine faith in a bad light.

I have watched both of those and I agree with you! It’s definitely a bit better because of all of that. It’s also more my genre anyway, which made it more fun.

It’s so tricky because there’s truth in both Comida and Fantasy High’s depiction of religion. I’ve met the Bobby Dawns and read up on the Belisabeth Brassicas. I understand that God can feel distant, like a force and nothing more. I am so angry and grieved at the damage the church has done to people. Any time there is a grasp for power or a putting down of others or another goddamned cult I want to just cry because this isn’t what it’s supposed to be and it’s horrible to just watch. Also I do believe that as much as possible there shouldn’t be an endorsement of one religion over another in entertainment, so not endorsing any particular religion in Dimension 20 is good.

But I feel such a connection with characters like Sir Morris Brie. Because I’m a Bible-believing Bulbian. I’ve studied my god and I’ve also met him. And he’s not like Helio at all. He loves me. Has always loved me. Has always wanted what was best for me. Has grieved with me when I’ve lost everything in little ways over and over again. Has been my father and friend when I haven’t been able to trust one and didn’t know how to have the other. And I’ve been able to trust the Bible over and over again even if I haven’t always agreed or understood.

And it’s just never represented. D&D has always felt like the closest thing to representation for me, as a Bible-believing queer person. And Dimension 20 (again, understandably, it sounds like Ally’s experience was awful and part of healing has been leaving) rarely if ever portrays someone with genuine faith in a Christian-esque god. Or if they do, it’s portrayed as toxic or ill-informed. And that sucks, frankly.

I get it, I truly do. No one gets more irritated than I do at bigoted ignorant Christians and I will fully doxx myself by saying I have been to the American South and I would NEVER live there willingly because of the culture.

But I tend to listen to the more neutral Dimension 20 campaigns. It took me so long to try A Crown of Candy. Because I don’t just respect my religion; I love my God. And I hate to see the slander, especially because some of it is true and even more especially because some of it is not.

[exopelagic]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME BURROWS END WASNT FREE

[wardingbond]

a short little drabble about my current favorite divorcees <3

‘It’s not green’, is Elody’s first thought as she holds her gold leaf book in her hands. She brushes over the title, over her name written in red script like spilt blood over the gold. ‘He would’ve liked it’, is her next thought and it pains her because she… she had thought his name. She thought his name but it wasn’t there.

Elody tries to say it but her voice cuts short like it’s been punched out of her and all she can do is wheeze. Loss. A tremendous loss has her hunched over and holding onto the book like a lilypad in a vast pond. ‘Oh, oh you fool. You foolish frog’. She opens her book, watches the ink spill and slither into the pages. It tells the story she knows well, the short sweet one, but it doesn’t end.

But the childhood companion grew and their love began to dry. The Princess Elody is brave and charges into war while the Frog Prince hides in the castle walls and flees when the battle finds him. As Princess Elody was less and less the little girl who could love a frog, she became more and more a powerful princess who could not love a prince who acted as a little frog.

Elody’s fingers shake on the pages as she stares at the illustrations of him, at how water had been dropped on the ink and smudged his human face. She remembers all the times he had pleaded with her to stay back, to remain comfortable in their titles, to stop caring. She remembers the silent dinners where she would watch him out of the corner of her eye. She remembers the creeping distance like a slowly freezing pond. But then the words continue.

The prince’s curse filled in the empty space of his heart as destiny forced him out of his hiding place. Destiny had always followed Elody’s wake but it was never hers. Yet as the frog prince fell further into his curse, so he did cling to his love for Princess Elody. So did he find his reason to care and be just a little brave as a prince should have been all along.

Her own tears drip steadily onto the page but the ink stays dry and bold. A growing dread boils up in her chest as Elody whispers to the illustration of her husband, “What did you do? Why can’t I remember your name?” She remembers the way his friends had looked at him, the care and worry in their eyes as they tried to cheer him up with smiles and hands tugging at his cloak. “What did you do?”

And the book answers its new subject’s question.

The frog prince paid a dear price but shifted destiny, freeing Princess Elody from his tale. Herein begins a new story about a brave princess named Elody…

She closes the book with a sharp snap. Just in time too as the door clicks open and a smiling face appears beyond it, hair creeping into the room before the woman. The pit in Elody’s stomach widens when she sees Rapunzel and remembers what she had done. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to check on you,” Rapunzel says in her softest tone, so deeply different from the venom she spat to her husband. “I know it must be hard-“ she stops short at the sight of the book in Elody’s hands, mouth dropping open in a gasp. “You- you have one! How?” She surges forward, her hair reaching out first before her hands.

Elody steps back, cradling the book to her chest. “Yes, I do.” She tries to school her expression into something less wary, the frog prince’s words about Rapunzel echoing in her head, and she forces a smile. “I don’t know how but it’s about time, isn’t it?”

Rapunzel stops at Elody moving away and she smoothly settles again, face plastered in a warm smile that Elody believes for a moment to be real. “Of course! I still can’t believe someone like you was forced to be part of a coward’s tale as his prize.” She snorts derisively and it’s no longer a pit in Elody’s stomach but a deep cavern.

Elody forces a nod and clasps her hands behind her back, book hidden behind her skirts. “Well, I suppose we should tell the others the good news.” ‘A prize… that was never true’. Elody thinks back on the selfish prince she knew, who she once loved so deeply, and knows that even then, even at his worst… He never saw or treated her as a prize won, he loved her too. And as her hand squeezes the spine of her book, Elody knows he loves her still.

[odd-kid-42]

Listening to the post-s1 Talking Dads, and I swear Brennan Lee Mulligan needs to come into contact with Anthony Burch. They need to both be waiting on a crosswalk and Anthony can sigh wistfully about how he never asks players what they imagine as the long-term arcs for characters because he 'is actively playing against them'. I whole-heartedly think Brennan "I believe in railroading players to allow characters to grow in the directions I as DM and the player see fit while keeping the game interesting" Lee Mulligan could advise on the kayfabe.

It is just so obvious that they are operating off a false understanding/self-imposed rule about how D&D is supposed to work that doesn't actually help storytelling and DM-player satisfaction. Like, idk guys! I feel like you can talk about intentions without ruining anything. It's not like Dimension 20 is suffering under Brennan's approach to storytelling. He has a whole podcast about it.

[atticcreationz]

We've reached the point in the season where I don't want to watch the Adventuring Party episodes until AFTER the ending, but good lord the physical restraint I will have to exhibit if any of the last few APs have even a whiff zoom energy...

[licensedproldier]

I think ive realized why that one scene during the FH s1 finale has stuck with me for so long. the one where fabian gets trapped under a burning beam in seacaster manor. brennan asks him to make a strength check, lou fails, he asks again, lou fails, he asks a third time. i keep thinking about that. brennan's blunt do it again. do it again. and i think its particularly because normally, when someone fails a skill check, they just. have to wait until their next turn. or wait until theres another reason to roll. because you kind of only get one shot at the cold hard numbers, but once the dice are over and done with, dnd is ultimately limitless in the ways creativity can get you through failure. fail your perception? you can still play cautiously. fail your strength? maybe try using leverage. fail your acrobatics? hey anyone got a fly or jump spell? the dice are NEVER the end-all-be-all.

so brennan asking lou to roll the same strength check three times in a row without letting him get a word in edgewise is truly such an unforgiving break in convention that perfectly mirrors the helplessness of fabian's situation. There's nothing else you can do and no one here to help you. you're either going to make this one, or do it again. you are either strong enough, or you arent. this is the only way i'm going to let you resolve this.

I think about that kind of relentless pressure a lot and what it means for fabian in that moment, the blind desperation that is making three strength checks in a row without any attempt to improve or change his chances. the lack of space to take a step back and breathe and think. roll me a strength check. do it again. do it again. ough.

[keplercryptids]

i know this is because i have been dming (including at high levels) for years, so i'm always watching dimension 20 through that lens, but i don't think brennan gets "whomped" or surprised by his players as often as the audience thinks lol. i think he hams up being outsmarted a lot of the time. cuz. that's something you do as a good dm.

it takes a LOT of workshopping and system mastery and skill to balance higher-level 5e combats. i have no doubt that brennan has multiple contingencies during combat and is actively redesigning encounters in real time. (source: this is what i, an amateur dm, have done in most high-level encounters.) and I'm sure the players DO surprise him sometimes! but more often than not, i think he is purposely setting them up to use their abilities and look cool and feel like they got one over on him. (source: see previous source lmao.)

like, for example, he specifically homebrewed heroes' feast into ice feast with immunity to fire damage before the final combat which took place....over lava. and he feigned surprise when he kicked one of the pcs into the lava and they reminded him "we're immune to fire!!!" but. come on y'all. brennan did all of that on purpose lmao.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope 4/5

Okaaaay, so there's 5 parts instead of 4! I realized that the last part was over 6k words, so we're splitting it into two! The last part will still be posted next Friday, so this will keep us on track!

Summary: The picnic has an uninvited guest that you're uniquely suited to greet.

-------

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone able to catch Marie,” the Lord says, brows raised. His golden eyes track Isla across the garden and he whistles when she jumps to tag his former knight. “That was not within the capabilities of a Villager.”

Ivan scans the crowd around them. Most of the townsfolk are too far away to eavesdrop and the ones close enough to potentially hear are engaged in their own conversations. “Careful, Brennan. If the Director hears you speculate…”

“Yes, the Director,” Lord Brennan sighs. He brings his teacup to his lips, but doesn’t drink. He contemplates Director Sarah where she crouches with a glass of water near Annie. “You know this is the first time we’ve met?”

It’d been a fight to get Sarah to agree to today at all. Ivan chooses his words carefully. “Your predecessor did not have the sort of…kind interest you do.”

The former Lord’s interest Sarah shared with them was a lot more horrifying. There’s a reason that Isla at only fifteen years old is the eldest at the orphanage.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lord Brennan agrees. He settles back into his seat and sighs in satisfaction. He watches the children gradually grow tired of their game and drift towards the dessert table. He grins when the townsfolk naturally make room for them, a few of them even fetching treats from the center of the table for the littler ones. “See my people together? It was very good of me to lure you and Marie to my territory.”

“You gave us a castle,” Ivan says. They weren’t so much lured as bludgeoned with generosity. Some days it feels like they blinked and ended up standing amongst fine silk and filigree.

“It’s a manor as far as paperwork goes,” Lord Brennan says.

“It has buttresses.”

“A very fortified manor.” Lord Brennan finally sips his tea and sighs again. “This tea is from our fields, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“It’s delicious.” The full canopies of the trees enveloping the estate rustle in the wind. The sun shines warmly overhead. Lord Brennan takes another drink. Delicious. “The land’s come a long way since we ousted my father, hasn’t it? Plentiful harvests, an established trade route, a new school. If it weren’t for the demons, my work would be done.”

“I would prefer you had no work then,” Ivan says dryly.

“Me too.” Lord Brennan sets his tea aside and rubs his eyes. “Any updates?”

“None,” Ivan admits, frustration leaking through his words. His face is still amiable and the disconnect between his tone and his visage is jarring. “We investigated the wolf tracks in the woods and only found carnage. No signs of the demons themselves.”

“So they are demons?”

“Regular wolves wouldn’t be able to evade a squadron of your knights, my lord.”

“Neither would demon wolves,” Lord Brennan says. He rubs his chin, brow furrowing. “I don’t like what that implies. Any sign of larger foes?”

Ivan doesn’t want to discuss this here. Marie’s eyes are on him, sensing his rising distress. He smiles and waves to her. “Besides the horned rabbit migration?”

“Is it a migration?”

“Isla saw five within the first four weeks of summer,” Ivan says.

The Lord’s attention falls on the teenager. She’s patiently letting one of the other children – Hera? The one who’d curtsied to him like a little noble – weave flowers into her braid. He tries to imagine her fighting a horned rabbit and his lips thin. “I’ll call for reinforcements from the capital.”

“Marie and I can—”

Lord Brennan waves Ivan off. “No, no, I’ve asked too much of you already. Aren’t the two of you too busy in your retirement already? I thought you’d be settled with a child by now.”

“It’s not good to rush these things,” Ivan says as he has the last three times Lord Brennan has asked. This time it’s Ivan who sighs. “It took Marie and I a good few months to win Director Sarah over after our misstep.”

“Asking about Destinies, was it?”

“Implying we’d value any child less for not being a knight like us,” Ivan corrects.

“There seem to be a lot of unusual Destinies in the orphanage,” Lord Brennan says. He’s not an Identifier but he’s got a good eye. Though no one can know for sure until a child either develops their mark or comes into their power at fifteen, he’s seen more than a few signs of a Scholar, a Guardian, and a Teacher. Once again he finds his gaze being drawn back to Isla. She’s got a child under each arm and is running from Marie again, the game having resumed after their snack break. “That one is a Guard, at least. Nobody else would have physical abilities like that.”

Ivan ignores the Lord’s comment. “It’s been worthwhile getting to know them all.” His smile turns a little more genuine. “They’re all good kids.”

“Surely you and Marie have an inkling of who’ll be a good fit?” When Ivan doesn’t reply, the Lord clicks his tongue. “You can’t choose all of them.”

Ivan’s voice is a study in nonchalance. “Can’t we?”

Lord Brennan opens his mouth only for no words to come out. At length, he has to laugh. His knights do like to keep busy. “You’d need a castle.”

“You did give us one, my lord.”

“I suppose I did.”

The two men lapse into a pleasant silence. It is good to see the townsfolk this cheerful. This town is the furthest from Lord Brennan’s own castle and he rarely has a chance to visit. The first time he had had been very different. The people still bore the wounds of winter in gouged cheeks and brittle smiles. Now he sees the glow of health everywhere he looks.

He contemplates the Director once again. She’d been the only one back then to not seem pleased to see him ride in on his white horse. Even now he can feel the chill of her scrutiny as she stood defensively between him and the orphanage. None of that chill is present today. Her smile is as sweet as his tea while she tends to a scrape the little Scholar sustained in this round of tag. “Ms. Sarah is very pretty, isn’t she?”

“I know we can’t adopt them all,” Ivan blurts out. He doesn’t seem to have heard Lord Brennan. His gaze is turned towards his own inner conflict which is why he also doesn’t notice the blush dusting the Lord’s cheeks. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. Marie and I decided to adopt a child who would benefit from what little we can offer. Military arts and luck.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” Lord Brennan says with raised brows. “You and Marie offer a lot more than a Knight’s experience. Haven’t you shown that already in your actions?” He’s not aware of everything his former knights have done, but he’s heard plenty from the children today. He didn’t think Marie had the patience to teach anyone how to read.

Ivan’s hands fist. “It’s not enough, it’s not—the little boy. Josiah. He’s so smart. I don’t even know where to start with him and even Marie says that he’ll soon outpace her—”

“Well,” Lord Brennan says, “Neither of you are Teachers, true, but there is a school for that--”

“And Annie wants to know why bread rises and why the sun sets and how many seconds are in a day—”

“All kids are curious—”

“Hera staged a whole theater production for my birthday and all we could do was clap—”

Is he missing something? “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“We don’t know any actors or directors to introduce her to!” Ivan cries out. He quickly lowers his voice, but can’t hide the stress around his eyes. “What could we give to a child like her? Like any of them?  Marie and I are out of our depth. It would be so much simpler if one was a Knight!”

The Lord tentatively offers, “If Isla’s a Guard--?”

Ivan gives a cry of distress that he barely capture in the palm of his hand. “Isla! That girl feels like my daughter already, but…she’s been through so much. She doesn’t need a father who teaches her how to fight or a mother who teaches her how to withstand a siege! She deserves to never have to fight again. What could we offer her? What could we possibly give to her she hasn’t already learned on her own?”

A light goes on in the Lord’s head. He takes in the festivities with new eyes. The town’s Baker, Blacksmith, Teacher… His friends have invited every possible parent they could in hopes of providing for the children in ways they felt incapable of doing themselves. As noble as that was…“Ivan, being a parent goes beyond the skills you can give a child. It’s more than fostering talent or an offering an apprenticeship. It���s—”

A horse’s scream drowns out the Lord’s next words.

Ivan is in front of Lord Brennan with his sword drawn before the horses and their blood-splattered riders even round the side of the castle.

-----.

 You throw Annie and Josiah behind you the moment you hear the sound of hooves galloping towards the manor.

“Isla, what—” Josiah starts to ask and then cuts himself off as the innkeepers and their entourage burst into the party.

You smell blood before your eyes register the terrible red staining their fine clothing.

“ORCS!” Mr. Innkeeper screams over the frightened snorts of his horse. He stumbles down from his mount and staggers towards the Lord. “They overtook our carriage—please, my wife, she’s hurt—”

Mrs. Inkeeper is holding her side and seemingly barely holding onto the saddle horn. “Our guards won’t be enough to hold them off—”

“Inside,” Sarah hisses into your ear. She points after Hera who’s already shepherding the younger kids into the building. “Now.”

“—an army—”

“—fast—”

“—waiting for us—”

You move faster than you’ve allowed yourself since you arrived. This is no time to take care in hiding your abilities; there are roars coming from the forest unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Your senses seem to dial up with your heartrate and you can hear the clash of steel against rock and flesh. You scoop Annie into your arms and leap after Josiah and Sarah.

Mr. Dallen’s face is pale as he ushers you all into the manor. He holds the door open for the townsfolk. The hall fills with the sounds of panic and sobs as fear washes through you like a tidal wave. There have never been orcs south of the mountains, there have never been demons bigger than a horned rabbit in the last twenty years, even when the Winter froze the river—

Mr. Dallen waves down Marie as she sprints to the large doorway. You think that he’s going to pull her inside to safety, but instead he thrusts her bow into her outstretched hands.

“Do not open these doors,” she commands. Behind her the knights are assembling into a formation, their Lord at the center. Ivan stands before them all, barking orders to ready their spears as the trees in front of them begin to sway. Marie pulls a dagger from under her skirts and slices the bottom half of her dress clean off. She kicks it away from her feet as she talks. “Take everyone to the basement—”

“Ma’am, the escape tunnel still isn’t cleared of debris—”

Marie swears so violently that half the townsfolk gasp. She grabs Mr. Dallen by the shoulder, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her husband. “Then we will draw them away. The moment you think you can, run to the wagon. Get the children to—” She bites her lip. You can see the devastating truth flash through her mind. There isn’t anywhere to go. “Damnit. Bar the door and arm everyone you can.”

Mr. Dallen’s lips are bloodless as he nods. “My lady.”

Marie turns to everyone. Her voice is unlike anything you’ve heard come from her lips; it’s harsh and barking. A commander giving orders much like Ivan is doing outside. “Listen, everyone. We are in danger. Our best estimate is that 25 orcs are marching on the manor. There is no guarantee of survival. The moment this door is breached, it will mean the knights have failed. You must be prepared to fight. Do you understand?”

Twenty-five? Your hands ball into fists and your breath catches in your throat. You’ve heard of entire villages being wiped out by three.

“Then we’ll fight with the knights,” the Baker says. He pushes away from the center of the group and marches to the wall. He pulls down the crossed axes, keeps one, tosses the other to the Blacksmith. She catches it easily. “You’ll need everyone who can hold a weapon.”

Marie never voices her protest. You can see the strain of holding it back in her tense shoulders and her poignant silence. At long last, she nods. “You’re right. Stay behind the knights. They know how to handle the frontline better than you.”

There’s a flurry after that. The townsfolk divide in half. Those unable to fight slide back as those who can start scavenging for weapons. Mr. Dallen grimly pulls two long daggers from under his coat while pointing your neighbors to decorative swords, to ornamental spears, to the heavy coatrack just inside the parlor.

Grimly, you stride past Sarah, ignoring her hiss and darting hands. You can leave the weapons to the villagers, there’s a large knife on the dessert table you can use—

Marie slams a hand against your chest. You stagger back at the weight of the blow, breath knocked from your lungs. You’re more stunned than hurt as you gape at her.

“Children stay here,” Marie says. Her eyes narrow. “No exceptions.”

“But I’m—”

“We don’t have time to argue!” She pushes you further back, clearing the doorway for the armed villagers to run outside towards the knights. “You’re strong Isla, but this isn’t your fight. Stay here. Guard the door.”

The winter wind howls in your mind. You splutter. “But I—”

Marie spins away from you. “Director Sarah.”

Sarah’s arms slide around your shoulders. “Yes, lady.”

 The closing of the door feels like a blow in itself. You stare sightlessly at the unyielding wood as your emotions rage. How could she? You’re strong, you can do more, you can help, you’re the one who kept everyone from starving—

“We need to barricade the windows,” Director Sarah is saying to the townsfolk. Half of them gaze at her uncomprehendingly. Her hands slide from your shoulders slowly, as if testing that you aren’t going to leap outside. When you don’t move, she lets go entirely. “Isla, move the furniture. Hera and Josiah, find something to tie it down with.”

You move on autopilot. There are other hands alongside yours as you push the sofa and armchairs in front of the windows, the townsfolk coming together to defend the manor. Hera darts between you all and pulls the curtains closed, reclaiming the curtain ties to use as rope. She’s got a grim determination in her eyes that looks uncomfortably familiar.

Your attention is on the noise outside. The orcs are slow, but loud. The roars change to squeals and bellows of challenge. Branches break and there’s a terrifying, splintering crash as a tree falls. Metal rings as the knights raise their shields. You can see it all in your mind’s eye, the knights in a defensive line across the length of the garden, the Lord securely in their center. Ivan is shouting about this being what they’ve trained for, that there are more of them than there are orcs, that this city won’t fall—

And the Lord is speaking too, quickly and quietly to Marie. The escape tunnel? Damnit, I should have sent more men—

It will be fine, Marie says. Her bow sings as she holds it ready and you know the way her muscles flex and her eyes narrow from experience. We won’t let a single one of those monsters past us. We won’t--

The knights bellow alongside the orcs. Your heart leaps and your focus is jarred. You’re standing in front of the door again, your hands balled at your sides. Everyone can hear the battle now and the townsfolk scream when the orcs’ battle cries shake the manor.

“Quiet!” Is that your voice? It is. Your eyes slide to the frightened faces behind you. “You’ll distract the knights.”

Sarah steps up alongside you. “And let the orcs know exactly where we are.”

The villagers quiet into aborted whimpers and muffled sobs.

The battle rages, louder and louder. Are orcs big? They sound big. When you close your eyes you can hear the way their feet pummel the earth. Do they have weapons? Metal clashes. A knight screams that their hides are too thick. The Lord shouts back to aim for their eyes. A table splinters, a bow sings, there’s a liquid gasp—

BOOM!

You slam your hands against the door, muscles straining as another blow lands against it. The wood convulses under your hands and the lock creaks. The villagers scream.

“No,” someone whispers. “No, they found us.”

You’re eight and the snow spirits are howling for blood. Your shoulders ache with the effort to hold the door against the wind. The cold is biting at your fingertips and there is an old hope dying in your chest--

Small hands slam against the door next to yours. Hera is snarling and swearing, Josiah is crying. Sarah is telling the kids not to worry, Isla and Hera and Josiah won’t let them in –

They’re here. You’re not alone.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The orc’s bellow isn’t nearly as loud as Ivan’s roar.

The blow you’re bracing for never comes. Ivan goads the orc to follow him, to leave the manor alone, to eat the man readily available to him—

It does not sound like the knights are winning now.

“My Lord!” Marie’s voice is strained.

“Do not fall back, they’ll corner us—”

“Who is that? Who is—”

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

----------------

Thanks for reading! If you'd like read the last part of Isla a week early, please consider supporting me on Patreon(X)!

[kingcael]

yes, please, what inspired the portraits of the gods? did Matt/Brennan have ideas or did they give you free reign? i particularly like the paint dripping down, it feels so...authentic.

When the concept of the project was being brought up Hannah kindly asked me to join for the Divine aspect and together we had come up with murals or secret shrines within Aeor, so that’s why the characters are all depicted with the stone wall. We worked a bit with everyone, actually the players had done a lot of thought and had some excellent input about their gods! I also referred to the Taldorei Campaign guide for any bit of canonical appearance but largely I had a lot of freedom. We all generally agreed the idea of secret shrines behind walls or painted in forgotten ruins was a good one and everyone signed off on it!

When I was painting them I imagined painting them as a follower might, so some of them have hastily done sections, or areas carved and overworked like many different hands contributed to the piece. Notably the Wildmother has the moss, which I imagined people would connect with her by touching her image with hands covered in blood or water to nourish the moss.

The Dawnfather and Everlight also represent life and light, but I cast more shadows on the Everlight where the Dawnfather is painted to make you almost squint with his brightness. The Raven Queen was not particularly far from our original concept sketch for proof of concept, she definitely encompasses vibes I enjoy painting haha

Hannah and I worked in tandem to make them overlap 1:1 which was an interesting challenge but the animation when they invoke their godly forms worked exactly how we hoped!

[worrywrite]

You've lived a long and fulfilling life. You've done a lot of good, and while you're ready to move on now there's still one last thing you'd like to do. So you wait.

And then the day comes. You feel you're heart beat its last. And then they appear, clad in robes like night and leaning casually and comfortably against their scythe. Their skeletal face bears no expression but the gentle tilt to the side and slow seeping breath that escapes is boney face is strangely comforting.

"You have lived a good life, but it is time to go. Are you ready?"

"Not quite. There's something I've always wondered."

"Oh? Something I can tell you, perhaps?"

"Is it really possible to challenge you for my life?"

The calm and kind posture shifts to one more rigid and wary. This is a common question, surely. Death passes through many people every day, it is not unreasonable to assume some challenge him.

"You have a right to challenge me."

"Oh, good, cool. I'll go with you no matter what at the end, I'm really just curious if you could win or not."

Some of the kindness returns. You are unusual among its challengers. And they are willing to risk your challenge although they are perhaps now more wary than before.

"Name your challenge, I accept all games of chance and skill and tests of wit. And should you comply with your word to surrender regardless I will gladly take part."

"All right then, folks! Looks like it's time for a Game Changer!" You shout to an apparently invisible audience as you pull the level by your chair.

The walls rise up around you, your rip off your tearaway clothes to reveal a suit and tie, and you stand from the chair you were inches from death on before and flip it around to reveal a podium.

POV: your are Sam Reich and you are about to produce your last episode of game changer featuring Death. Guest appearance by Zac Oyama's tortured soul and Brennan Lee Mulligan's brain in a jar.

[lifeandtimesoftrying]

as someone who’s only halfway through season 3 of game changer, I gotta say that watching tumblr freak out over the most recent episode is hilarious. Something was Done to Brennan. I have no idea what it was. Everyone’s posting pictures of the most haunted man you’ve ever seen. Sam Reich is playing 3D chess with his friend and employee’s psyche. What did he do? No idea! But everyone was in on it. What “it” was is wholly unclear. This is like seeing something tagged as “#[fandom] spoilers,” deciding to look at it anyway, and being met with a badly photoshopped image of a horse with a nerf gun, and see everyone in the tags go “nooooo!!!! How could you you are EVIL *reblogs anyway*.” By my estimation it’ll be over 2 weeks before I get to this episode. I will live in suspense until then. I am somehow wholly shielded from spoilers. This is the most I’ve seen an episode be talked about without having a clue what the episode actually is.

[mareastrorum]

I have never enjoyed a D&D series more than Misfits & Magic and it's entirely because of Brennan Lee Mulligan. I am fully aware that most viewers thought Evan Kelmp was ridiculously over the top and played up for laughs. I'm sure so many people thought it was for comedy.

I have never seen a poverty-stricken and violence-afflicted character portrayed so well.

People who have not experienced that level of desperation rarely ever comprehend the constant level of fear, but Brennan was locked in on it wonderfully.

Every moment is fixated on food, safety, and shelter. It takes so much effort and emotional vulnerability to shift attention from it. Free food? Gotta gently press to get more and more and more and more, but you can't ask too quick or people might kick you out. Someone's a threat? Gotta make it 100% clear that you will not be fucked with, and it does not matter what it costs you socially. Need to do something long term? Gotta figure out where and how you're going to sleep without anyone to watch your back; can you lock yourself in somewhere? Can it be somewhere alone? Where can you hide?

What will this cost?

The strained politeness and immediate switch to a fight response was excellent. People who want to help you do not trigger violent responses. People that do not want to help you and are in your business need to be dealt with. Brennan knew exactly how to demonstrate the tension of usually being treated as a dangerous animal rather than a person. It instills a script to be as perfect a person as possible, and as soon as anyone veers off the social script, be exactly what they're afraid of: a monster. Better to be a monster than a victim.

The one mistake was during the holiday special that he said credit cards instead of (stolen) gift cards for making a shank with razor blades. You'd get a secured one at 18, but not before then. Otherwise would have been perfect. (Duct tape's expensive, but not too hard to steal. I carried a bag with my laundry coins as an impromptu weapon. As soon as he ordered any drink with a glass bottle, I yelled, "Make a shank!" AND HE FUCKING DELIVERED.)

I often get so annoyed at terrible portrayals of children that grew up in impoverished, violent circumstances, but this is the first time I legitimately enjoyed myself.

Well done.

[hup123hup123slapslap]

So a thought has been kicking around my head for a bit...what if Helio knew exactly what he was signing up for by making Kristen his chosen one?

It has always struck me as odd that when describing Doreen in Helioic heaven, Brennan mentioned her flirting with men and women. It also strikes me as odd that Kristen never got any pushback from Helio about turning her back on him. Even if he was similarly 'out of the picture' like sol was while Arthur was wrecking havoc, Kristen's powers should have faded when she fully committed to not worshipping him. You need to worship a god to get powers, and this is emphasized heavily in the latest episode. Kristen worshipping the vague idea of religion but Definitely Not Helio just doesn't cut it. Sure, taking away a PCs powers wasn't really in the cards in season one, but Brennan works very well and very caringly with what he has to establish as canon.

Kristen was looking for a reason to drop Helio from the get-go. His frat boy appearance and non-answer to a nearly impossible question didn't truly matter at the core of her feelings. She wanted an out from the prison she was trapped in with the Helioic faith, even if she didn't realize it fully. She had tension with her mom and her ideals from the scene one! She wanted to connect with people the church actively shunned. Helio was never the true problem.

Now, gods are shaped by their worshippers. So on some level Helio is shaped by people with shitty ideals. But there's still a foothold of good, especially if there are out and proud gays in heaven. Especially if Kristen Applebees of all people is the chosen one.

When you have worshippers misinterpreting your whole deal, going with Sol's shitty messaging and transferring it onto you and using it for bad things, what can you do as a god? Because you ARE what they say you are. So how can you fight back?

Well. You make your chosen one someone that embodies your true heart. Someone that can actually turn the tides of your worship.

There is an emphasis on tracker reinventing and revitalizing her religion. Changing it for the better. Taking the old and not tossing it out, but making it better.

Isn't that what Kristen struggles with the most? That's what she needs to learn how to do.

Tracker also established that she can worship multiple gods when she helped with Yes?. Kristen doesn't need to settle for one even if she (fingers crossed) brings Kassandra back.

Because the season opened with the slow apocalypse of endless night. Endless daytime would end similarly. There has to be a balance. They are two sides of the same coin. Day and night. The surety of the sun and the doubt of the shadows.

Kristen wants both. And she can fucking have it if she decides to.

Ally once said they appreciate that the enemy is always the church. Organized religion. Kristen is perfect for disorganized religion though. Chill frat boy vibes and anxious doubts and the ultimate message of 'just do your best'.

I think religious trauma is a compelling, close to the heart topic for a lot of people. And some turn away from religion entirely and wash their hands of it. But some people don't. Kristen is a cleric. She can't. She wants a god, she wants answers, and she just can't find them in the established community she was raised in. That doesn't mean the core of her religion was wrong. The church was. So you take the religion and you harness it in a way that means something to you.

Maybe Kristen being desperate enough to invite Helio back into her life is what this has all been leading to.

She can remake a god. She's done it before. Because Kassandra was good at the core. Maybe Helio can be too.

[thatbookwhore]

***Iron Flame SPOILERS****

I am so incredibly disappointed with what everyone is choosing to talk about with this book. Everyone is concentrating on what happens with Xaden but you know what to me was the absolute most gut wrenching storyline in the whole book? General Lilith Fucking Sorrengail.

From the moment we see her again in the beginning of the book she is nothing but supportive and proud of her daughter. Yes, she absolutely made the wrong decision where she stands in the war, and what she did to Xaden was absolutely inexcusable. (Although I do think if she hadn’t done that they would have killed all the marked ones.) But she made all those decisions for her children. Because she did what she needed to to keep them safe. You can’t convince me that even after Violet leaves, that even after Mira leaves, that she wasn’t incredibly thankful for the fact they were together and with Xaden who would never let something happen to Violet.

Lilith went into the dungeons to get her daughter out of there and I am not unconvinced that had Violet not already been mid rescue the General wouldn’t have turned traitor right there to get her out. The scene when Brennen reveals himself to her?? She’s cracking and can hardly hold herself together and my heart felt so sorry for her in that moment. It made me mad at Brennan because he threw it in her face like ammo when Violet spent all of fourth wing describing how his death ruined their mother.

One of the most heart breaking quotes in the whole book is at the beginning of chapter 65:

“Most generals dream of dying in service to their kingdom. But you know me better than that, my love. When I fall, it will be for one reason only: to protect our children.”

General Sorrengail didn’t support the war, she didn’t fight for Navarre she made it clear fron the beginning that she was just a mom protecting her kids, and she did so without second thought. Without hesitation. She didn’t do what she did for the war effort, or even to help everyone on the battlefield. She did it for Brennen, and Violet, and Mira.

Lilith Sorrengail was just a desperate mother and everyone glossing over her sacrifice is bullshit.