#et fin!

[arcxnumvitae]

Part 8

He moved like a ghost through the manor with the bloody knife clutched in his hand. Every human servant he came across with their glazed eyes too much like his mother's fell to his weapon, adding red to the gore that covered him.

This whole manor, the years he had spent in service to it and its purposes...all for what? For his mother to die? No, the entire manor should be eradicated from existence.

At some point he came across a sword, one possibly meant to be a pretty piece of decoration. It was functional enough, and every person he came across fell with a single swipe. He didn't know where he was going until his body led him to what he recognized to be the master bedroom chambers. Mhoirbheinn pushed open the door, leaving a bloody silver and red handprint smeared against the fine wood.

Inside, the lady of the house sat at a table, wholly unaware of the carnage that had been taking place under her own roof. Her pale eyes settled on him, surprised, then disdainful upon recognizing him, only to turn to horror once she realized the blood that drenched him.

"What are you--" She made to rise, but it was too late. A few quick steps into the room and a single, deep drag of his sword against her throat sent a fountain of silver pouring from the woman's body as her hands flew to her throat. Mhoirbheinn turned and left the room, leaving her to slump lifeless to the floor.

His father's office soon loomed before him, and just as before, Mhoirbheinn pushed open the door. He was only a child, a sheltered pawn, when he first set foot in that office. Just as he had been all those years ago, his father was seated at his desk, the always-present mask on the man's face.

Even with the mask in place, the man's shock was palatable when he looked up to find his youngest standing before him, covered in blood and with a mania in his eyes that would send a shiver down the spine of even the most seasoned soldier. He stumbled to his feet.

"You--! You ungrateful child, what have you done?! What have you done?!"

Staring straight at the man, Mhoirbheinn didn't respond. He simply leapt towards his father, sword gripped tight in his hand.

---------

Blood dripped from the teen as he settled onto a couch in the sitting room. The sword had been abandoned at some point on the way, its mission done. He doubted he would need it anyways. From the silence that spanned throughout the whole manor, he suspected he had killed every last soul within it.

Well, save himself, of course. Mhoirbheinn stared unseeing into the crackling warmth of the hearth below, fingers idly toying with an ornate signet ring pilfered straight from the finger of his father's corpse. The family ring.

The entire Rathais line, completely eradicated, and all seemingly by a stranger with no ties whatsoever to them. To the entire Unseelie, it would seem as if the ancient noble line had been ended in one violent swoop without a single heir to carry on its prestige. What his father had feared most would come true in the end. Wasn't it hilarious?

Head tipping back, the youth burst into a bout of harsh laughter that echoed throughout the empty manor.

[hedgehog-moss]

Here are before/after pics of my two shorn llamas ✂ ✂ Pampoldine was the one with the most wool, which makes sense seeing as her father looks like a long-necked Komondor dog. I didn't shear Pampelune, she's my least woolly llama so I decided to leave her alone until next year, to her great satisfaction.

Shearing Poldine made me discover new aspects of her, like the fact that her tail is very impressive! It's not as striking when the rest of her is covered in equally thick hair but look at it now:

I had tried to prepare Poldine in previous weeks by stroking her with a stick in increasingly annoying ways while going bzzzzzz (we had reached a point where her only reaction to being bothered in this way was glaring at me). I should have bzzz'ed louder, though. Or maybe bothered her with an electric toothbrush instead, or sat on the couch with her to watch youtube shearing tutorials together with the volume turned up—because when the moment came she was very alarmed by what an ugly noise the shears made. Every time I turned the thing off to reapply oil to the clippers then turned it on again she was like aaaahhh what's that noise all over again.

I bought cordless shears so I could shear her in the pasture, surrounded by the emotional support of her loving family, but as soon as they saw Poldine tied to a post and heard that ominous robotic wasp sound, Pampe & Pampy went okay Poldine it was nice knowing you! And left. Abandoning their daughter / granddaughter to her grim fate.

(the very bad quality pics in this post are screenshots from bad quality videos) (oh and the grey fur you see at the bottom right is Pandolf's, my mum brushed him a few days ago. I promise I didn't shear Pandolf—although he would have probably volunteered, to share Poldine's suffering.)

Considering it was her first ever shearing, I think she was very brave and stoic! There was no spitting, no dramatic hyperventilating, no attempts to lie down on the ground and play dead as llamas sometimes do. (But wait for Part II.) She just danced around a lot to escape the shears, and made plaintive HMM sounds in a vain attempt to awaken some deeply-buried maternal instinct in Pampérigouste. Who never came.

The only (tiny) incident was when Poldine stepped towards me as I was shearing (surprising; she kept moving away before) so I took advantage of this spark of goodwill to lean over her back to shear on the other side, and then she abruptly stepped away and almost made me fall !

This second pic is the most malevolent Poldine has ever looked. She looks just like her mother!

But other than that, it went really well. The process was long and tiring (the shears get heavy after a while) and I kept discovering hidden unshorn spots when I thought I was almost done (look at these Niagara Falls of wool in the pic below!), but Poldine was very sweet. I didn't insist too much on her legs or under her belly as those were her least favourite parts, and I also left a little goatee at the top of her neck so she can stroke it pensively and look wise, and I gave her muesli afterwards and she gave me a kiss, no hard feelings. I couldn't have asked for a better llama partner for my first shearing.

My second shearing, however.

(Continued in Part II...)

[perduedansmatete]

tiens tiens macron qui dissout l’assemblée pile poil quand le rn les fachos gagnent des élections bah c’est très intelligent ça je me demande bien qui ne va pas avoir de majorité absolue qui va encore monter et ce qu’il va advenir des rangs de la gauche comme les gens sont cons et racistes

[asofterepilogue]

Quand Mélenchon parle de deux tentatives d'assassinat/attentat et que la journaliste, dans toute sa supposée neutralité, sous-entend qu'il exagère, ça devrait toutes nous inquiéter. Qu'on l'aime ou pas, il n'a jamais rien fait qui sorte du "cadre républicain". Il ne propose rien de révolutionnaire, il n'appelle pas à l'insurrection, il n'exhorte pas à la violence. Il a eu quelques phrases condamnables et à condamner, mais pas particulièrement pires que les sorties répétées d'autres politiciens à qui on ne fait pas un procès médiatique.

La seule chose qui le distingue du reste de la troupe des bavardeurs, c'est qu'il défend des idées de gauche avec cohérence (et, à mon sens, avec conviction), là où la gauche acceptable ne propose que des rustines sans aucun lien et sans vision. Et malgré ce que peuvent crier les médias, il les a défendues avec assez de verve pour séduire beaucoup de personnes en un temps assez court comparé aux autres partis de gauche.

Et donc parce qu'il est le seul à gauche qui soit une "menace" crédible pour le statu quo actuellement, il est urgent et nécessaire de le diaboliser, quitte à prétendre que des tentatives d'assassinat pour des idées politiqus somme toute banales, ça ne vaut même pas une mention.

[sloubs]

le poème (livre II, épisode 75) 🩷

[thesquidkid]

et maintenant le vide

[bones-ivy-breath]

Dieu et La Fin de Satan or God and the End of Satan by Victor Hugo (tr. R.G. Skinner)

[cheminer-poesie-cressant]

lorsque les maisons deviennent ruine, qu’elles ont perdu leur toit, souvent des arbres poussent là où il y avait des pièces ; des arbres qui forment charpente, comme des nouveaux toits ; ce que l'homme a vu dans la nature pour construire son monde, la nature le lui restitue sobrement à l'heure de sa fin

© Pierre Cressant

(mardi 9 mars 2023)

[bitter-panacea]

I just don't know anymore fuck I just I just I don't know okay I don't know

[this-is-a-name-dont-worry]

"Et qu'est-ce que vous allez faire quoi de moi?"

"De vous? C'est-à-dire, comment ça? Mais je sais pas euh, rien... enfin si, comme d'habitude quoi! ... Oui, voilà, rien."

Ce moment il me butait déjà il y a 10 ans, il me bute toujours et plus encore maintenant. Putain ça fait mal.

[saecookie]

Bonsoir. Pourquoi personne parle de Lou! Sonata sur le trois double v point tumblr. Plus précisément je viens de finir le t2 et

[azerty-6]

Sometimes I'm wayyy to invested in NPCs' backgrounds even if they're just made up of a few lines.

Like the noble girl that left her family for love but the boy's only here for her money and intend to get rid of her ??

The undefeated woman gladiator now married to her last opponent, the old man who has five (5) ex-wives, the bard who is actually a spy, etc.

Give me OT3 with a feature where I can befriend them all

[a-forbidden-detective]

Ron Kamonohashi : Officer Isshiki, the one inheriting my will, can compete with you. Toto Isshiki: 😦

(Chapter 52)

No wonder, Fin Fennec asked Toto during the case of serial murders in the cruise arc if he, Toto, and Ron have known each other for so long. Ron might have delivered this statement in a fatuous way, but somehow he’s not probably lying.

[sorrydupuis]

fat bitch

[sack-thing]

Oui j'ai fait une traduction littérale du titre, le terme est réellement utilisé au début dans la VF pour nommer le journal de la caravane, et pour moi ça permet de nommer l'histoire au lieu de juste mettre "FFCC".

So I don't know if it'll be very useful to people here, but I posted the French first two chapters of my FFCC script there. If you know some French speaking buddies who could be interested, I guess you can let them know. XD

I'll say it again but French is actually my mother tongue and the story was first in this language. I just never posted it online before (and now I need to edit it to match the English version).

[yeentosis]

siden det ikke fins no godt norsk ord for "dyke", tenker jeg at vi bare later som at hanseatiske ligaen har komme tilbake og låner no rett fra tysk. Nemlig

✨Kamplesbe✨

og siden jeg også er trans så slenger vi på det også og får

✨Transkamplesbe✨

kan ikke skrive transkamplesbe uten "skam" heyooooo