#i didn't know how to end it. Help

[wizardofgoodfortune]

27 for Spotify fic thing!

a bit of comfy dreamling. and i fully believe that this would've been better if i had finished reading the entirety of the comics. alas... we can have a bit of silliness for now! but thank you for the ask!! 💓 i hope you are having fun with the ask game.

--

When you've lived for such a long period of time unimaginable to the common living being, asking for help is something short of unthinkable. He is Endless, after all. Lord of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares. The Dreaming itself.

At least, that's what Dream thinks.

Death said he was foolish for not asking for help during his century in the Wych Cross, in the Burgess's basement, and for the pursuit of his tools afterwards. He doesn't think she will ever understand—he didn't want to worry her, or anyone for that matter.

Much less Hob Gadling, who is a mere 600 years old. He was older than most, yes, but still. Dream should be able to handle everything by himself. The Shaper of Forms should be able to fix all his problems on his own.

This is why Dream couldn't fathom why Hob gave him this tiny device he called a 'mobile phone'.

"Keep in touch," Hob said, "for when you need my help the next time you get... compromised. Or for when you just want a drink. Or a friend," he tacked on, grinning.

Dream stared at the phone accusatorily. It sat on the couch beside him in his room, unaware of his glare.

It was as if Hob didn't know how hard it already was for him just to mention that he'd been captured. By a human, with parlor tricks, no less. And before their recent meeting, they just met once every hundred years. Now Hob expected Dream to just... 'text' him?

Dream scoffed. This was ridiculous. They should have just continued to meet every hundred years.

But then again, the whole ordeal with Rose Walker and Desire just finished. Could Hob have helped with that problem? Most likely not. But sometimes, Dream did find that... elaborating... on one's feelings... proved. Useful.

And in the light of having been betrayed by his sibling, there was nothing he wanted more than to hear someone talk at him, for distraction. Or maybe even listen to him. Much like Hob did, the last time, in The New Inn.

Dream sighed. This was ridiculous. He tucked the phone into his coat, and left. He had much to do, and little time to spend on frivolities. He couldn't spend his time ruminating on every single thing in his life; he would certainly go insane if he did. So he will concentrate on the things he can fix now.

--

Dream was in the middle of a meeting with Lucienne and Merv when a ding! rang in the throne room. Lucienne looked up from her notes, and Mervyn cocked his pumpkin head.

It came from inside his coat. Dream paused for a moment, and opened his mouth to continue—

Ding!

"Uh, boss, I think that's coming from you," Merv said.

Lucienne hid the lower half of her face in her ledger. Dream dreaded to think why.

"I will take care of this," Dream said, standing from his throne. "I trust you will be able to attend to the repairs in my place, Lucienne. Mervyn."

"Of course, my lord," Lucienne said.

"See ya, boss," Merv said.

Dream turned away and blinked into his room before he could see them smile at each other at his expense.

He conjured the phone from his coat, forming from grains of sand. The screen simply said, '2 new messages from Hob Gadling.'

"Hey stranger! Fancy a night out at The New Inn? Just got done with finals, and I could use a relaxing evening. Beer for me, wine for you? I got you something even better than before," the first text said.

In their last meeting, Dream had actually caved to drinking wine. It seemed more palatable than any of the drinks in the past six centuries, and he was. In a good mood, so to say. He didn't really realize how thirsty he was until he got into a comfortable atmosphere.

"And I'm thinking you should try out our pizza tonight. Only made out of the finest ingredients, I promise. If you thought the shepherd's pie was good, wait for this one," the second text said.

And how hungry.

And because the Dreaming is him, thunder rumbled in the distance, as if to imitate an empty stomach growling.

This is ridiculous, Dream thought, as he stepped out of his room and into The New Inn. It was evening this time, and the place glowed yellow and orange. It was alive with its customers' tipsy buzz, the clinking of tableware, and the smell of savory food and alcohol.

Dream looked over to the spot where Hob sat before, and felt a pang of an unnamable feeling in his chest when he didn't see him there.

"My friend," bellowed a familiar voice from behind the counter.

It was Hob. He had a small towel thrown over his shoulder, and he had half of his hair tied back. Dream noticed the beads of sweat on his temples.

"Didn't expect you here so soon. I'll be right with you," Hob said, his face bright. He gestured to the table in the corner. "Have a seat."

And so Dream sat where he sat before. What was Hob up to?

"Sorry for the wait," said Hob from behind. He came brandishing a glass and a bottle. Was that a smear of something red on his cheek? And why was he wearing a flour-dusted apron? "If I knew you would come this fast, I would have texted you much earlier."

Dream watched Hob pour him a glass of wine.

"Y'know, you could have replied. I would've been more prepared that way," Hob said, setting down the bottle, and settling down across Dream. "Not that I mind, of course. Just thought you would be more preoccupied. But I could get used to it."

Dream huffed. "Do not. You merely caught me at an opportune time."

"And what joy," Hob said. He was grinning. Then he was standing up again. "Be right back."

Hob disappeared behind the counter and into what Dream assumed is the inn's kitchen. Dream looked at the wine. It didn't seem right to drink alone.

So instead, Dream listened to the sound of the inn's patrons talking to their friends about their day, good or bad, listened to the soft music playing on the speakers, listened to the dreams of a student snoozing on his friend's shoulder, heavily inebriated too early in the night.

He was having a nightmare about his 'finals,' as Hob called it. Dream waved the nightmare away. In this place, he deserved comfy dreams. His nightmare could wait another night.

"Make way, hot pizza coming through," Hob announced from behind again, hurriedly setting down a wooden plate. On it was flat bread with golden, melted cheese and the same red sauce that Dream saw on Hob's cheek earlier. There were also sliced cherry tomatoes and basil leaves on top. The pizza glistened under the yellow lights of the inn.

"Been a while since my last pizza," Hob said, sitting down across him with a sigh. He held his beer in his other hand. Maybe this time he would stop moving around so much.

Wait.

"You made this," Dream said, in disbelief.

"Yeah, picked it up when I lived in Italy a few years back. Don't think it's as good as how they taught me, but you be the judge. And don't hold back," Hob said as he cut through the sauce and cheese with a knife. "Hey, you haven't drank your wine yet."

"No," Dream said. He didn't want to elaborate.

"Buon appetito," Hob said, gesturing to the pizza. He wiped some of the sweat on his forehead away with his towel.

Dream stared at Hob.

"Please, before it gets cold," Hob insisted.

"Are you not going to eat?" Dream asked.

"Oh." Hob paused. Was that surprise? "I suppose I should, shouldn't I?"

Dream took his slice the same time Hob did, but Dream had more difficulty with his. The cheese stretched on impossibly, refusing to let go, until Hob chuckled and cut through it with his knife.

And finally, Dream bit into the slice. Both the sliced tomatoes and the tomatoes used in the red sauce reminded him of a dream of a farmer in the Italian countryside, toiling away in the hot day and coming home to his wife and son, his arms full of produce. The hot cheese came from the milk of a family cow cherished by its farmer. It dreamt of a seemingly never-ending green pasture, where she lived with her calves. The bread had the thoughts of the man in front of him kneaded into it, thoughts of how proud he was of his students, especially those graduating soon. Even the basil leaves contained Hob's thoughts, each carefully placed on the pizza, wondering if Dream would like it.

Dream gulped.

"Good?" Hob asked. He was smiling, but Dream spotted a bit of worry on the lines in his crow's feet.

"It is," Dream tried to find a sufficient word, but ended up echoing Hob, "good."

Dream watched Hob's shoulders loosen.

"Good. Great," Hob said, grinning, fully this time.

Dream felt his own chest tighten. He stifled the feeling with more of the pizza instead, and listened to Hob launch into how finals week went.

Maybe later in the night, wine-drunk, Dream would tell Hob of what happened recently. But right now, he was content to eat, and drink, and listen to his friend.

[lucabyte]

So does anybody else ever think about how Loop felt the need to demonstrate that the party's deaths wouldn't have any effect on the loops. I know I do but that's besides the point. Anyway I don't think Loop actually needs to bathe, they just like to feel included.

[a2zillustration]

(It's ok Yurgir will respawn in Avernus)

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[chaoticallyfluffy]

Ok consider:

A new hero emerges and the Justice League watches him for a while who make sure he’s not a threat. They see this giant clumsy man who moves like he’s not used to his body, smiles goofily every time he saves someone, and is clearly inexperienced with his powers and they’re all just like. Ah. This is a child.

Except they don’t think he’s a ten year old or however old Billy is at the time, no no. Clearly this hero came into existence shortly before his first appearance, just a few months ago. They don’t know how or why but It’s not the weirdest thing they’ve seen so it’s pretty easy to believe.

But they can’t just leave this toddler with the powers of a god to stumble around and potentially hurt someone by accident, nor go down the wrong path and become a villain. So of course they decide to ‘subtly’ guide him without alerting him to the fact they’re onto him.

They introduce themselves but instead of inviting him to the league they pop by every once in a while to ‘subtly’ teach him about responsibility and power, but also about love and humanity. They try to teach him to enjoy life and that he doesn’t have to act like an adult around them, instead encouraging him to enjoy his childhood even if it’s not an ordinary one.

(Too bad the Justice League suck at subtlety.)

Billy is certain they somehow found out he’s a kid before they even met him, probably because of Batman’s freaky know-it-all powers, but he isn’t very worried as they seem nice and don’t treat him like he’s dumb or fragile. They respect him as a hero despite his age so he lets himself act like a kid around them after a while.

When he gets comfortable enough to detransform Billy thinks that’s his identity reveal. The league thinks that he magicked himself a body that’s more of a representation of his true self and fits his developmental age better, possibly as a way to blend in with humans and experience what it’s like to be a normal child. Good for him!

Basically Billy gets a bunch of super powered parents and the Justice League get a newborn man that they think they’re raising from scratch lol

[keets-writing-corner]

guess who's still thinking about Lucifer >.<

anyways thought it'd be fun, given my previous post about his dissociation with conversations, to try and guess what his takeaways were from his phone call with Charlie based on his reactions

Maybe I'm wrong about what he's catching and what he's missing but either way I had fun

strike through= what he missed bold=what he caught neither bold nor strikethrough= he might've heard it/made it out through the white noise, but not enough to connect the dots RED= only heaven is in red cuz you cannot convince me otherwise that that's not a trigger word for him

Idk thought it’d be fun to try and guess what Lucifer is ACTUALLY hearing with his dissociation filter on let's GO

Lucifer: [insert absolute fail of hello]

Charlie: Hi Dad! Lucifer: Hey! How are ya? Oh! Wh-wh-where are you these days? Charlie: You know where I am, Dad… I’ve told you before…

Lucifer: You hAve? Oh. yeah Uh, erm well I um uh

Charlie: I told you when you called me five months ago! Or did you not listen?

Lucifer: No no no just forgot! I just forgot. I’ve been really busy with you know… um. iMpOrTanT tHiNgS

Charlie: Well I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners, maybe you saw our commercial?

Lucifer: No? Sadly I… missed it!  Lucifer: You know I haven’t been watching much TV lately! Scrambles the brain!  Lucifer: but hey! A hotel! Fun!

Charlie: Listen, Dad, I’ve got kinda… a big ask?

Lucifer: -spit take- Yeah?! Of course! Anything in my power is yours for the asking you just name it

Charlie: I need to speak to heaven! Well, whoever’s in charge up there above Adam above anybody, I need to go to the top!

Lucifer: NO Lucifer: no no no no Lucifer: That’s uhahah no…

Charlie: Look! Dad! I don’t ask you for much. I never have, but this-this is really important to me. It’s the most important thing I’ve ever done and I… need… you… I need your help

Lucifer: I-... I don’t know Charlie

Charlie: Please just- Come see what I’m trying to do. You’ll see why it’s a really good idea and heaven is bound to agree if I get the chance to talk to them

Charlie: Please dad

Lucifer: wait… you’re… INVITING ME OVER??? Lucifer: ABSOLUTELY Lucifer: I’LL BE THERE IN AN HOUR

___

so yeah, he can semi follow along but like crucial bits and pieces ARE being left out

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.

I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.

When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"

I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.

For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.

On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"

Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)

When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)

Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.

So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.

[n7punk]

what's the worst thing you watched and kept up with (at least for a while) because you were gay and begging for scraps? mine was probably pretty little liars

[kevindavidday]

literally cannot stop thinking about the foxes growing up to be helpful adults especially the monsters because like with the upperclassmen and even with nicky its slightly more expected as compared to the twinyards, kevin and neil

not by my own definition but by the perception people have of them in canon - the selfish, hotheaded or largely indifferent to everyone except their own affairs type of people

but aaron chose to become a doctor and i think of him seeing mothers give up their kids at birth and of people constantly loving and losing and how possible it is for him to be known as a kind doctor - someone who would sit with a man who lost his wife or a mother who's lost her child, someone who would do coffee runs for his colleagues and give flowers to recovering patients (and maybe katelyn bought them the first time but he could repeat the gesture, yknow? he's got a good learning curve)

im thinking of kevin making sure that a portion of his hefty income goes to actual genuine charities and for work against human trafficking and child abuse because what's he going to do with this much money? particularly after amalia is born he would be so much more careful if he ever sees kids or teenagers in parking lots and senses some imminent danger

not just that but kevin keeping an eye out for his fans or any signing events he has where he sees something unfair happen and steps in or asks security to step in immediately i feel like for him its still difficult to put himself on the forefront of a threatening situation unlike andreil but he does his best to try and to listen to the kids that come and rant to him about exy to entertain them with his genuine smiles

idk just the idea of the monsters being so very human and recognizing humanity in others is something that can be so personal

[makorragal-312]

Okay, I know that I put up a post speculating about how Chris would interact with Marisol, but rewatching his conversation with Buck is making me think of a possible avenue the show could go with his feelings on Eddie and Marisol's relationship.

Earlier, I said that that I saw Chris being distant with Marisol and not making an active effort in getting to know her because her being with Eddie meant that they'd be seeing Buck less. But now? What if Chris still ends up being distant and not trying to form a connection with Marisol, not necessarily because he hates the relationship...

But because he's just waiting for her to walk out just like his mom did with him and Eddie.

And as much as I hate seeing Chris be hurt, Marisol leaving is necessary.

Because she's gonna be the last person to leave.

And Buck is gonna be the first person to actually stay.

I really hope this made sense.

[mayasaura]

I just want to talk about the nursery being painted and the purpose of the Tomb to be without a door. Anastasia had a family - and putting to the side the pact with Alecto there's some implicit symbolism to John asking for the workers of the Ninth to die constructing the Tomb with that image of new life. (Still can't articulate my disbelief that he went and didn't think that asking Anastasia of all people, The one who lost her cavalier to him, would have problems)

Yeah. Especially finding this out about the Ninth, where nurseries becoming tombs is a thing we're sensitive about.

On one level we've always known Anastasia had a family. Like, we know she's Harrow's direct ancestor. You can't be heir to the line of someone who never had children. But the nursery.... Yeah. It really hammers it in. Her friends painted a nursery mint green for her children.

And now it's a tomb.

[noweakergirl]

dare I say... superior trope

[fisheito]

So I was looking at waiter Yakumo and noticed that he had wavy hair. His hair straight normally so who was the one who curled his hair? DOES KLEIN EVEN HAVE CURLING IRONS???? Anyways all of this is to say please imagine Eiden helping Yakumo get ready and that involves putting those old timey curlers in Yakumo's hair before he went to bed so he can have curls the next morning

uhdisomFINMF u are making me IMAGINE!!!!!! yakumo about to apply for the job and wondering if he should present himself a certain way eiden going ;))) you look sexy with your hair pushed back ;))) (but before yakumo can stutter out his embarrassment) eiden gives him the very encouraging "but for real i think you look great as you are!! <3" then aster crashes onto the scene and announces that he will not have his servants treasured colleagues looking anything less than PEAK presentable!!!!! *whips out the old timey pink hair curlers*

[blaithnne]

my timephoon hot take is that the episode was literally fine, it's the episodes that came AFTER it that fucked things up

[badlydrawndrawnings]

the films adaptations being 100% against gus having played growltiger is something i like very much.

[eyrieofsynapses]

good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.

y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.

I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.

I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?

when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?

that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:

what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?

it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.

and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.

there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.

[daily-sloop-john-b]

They really should've let us meet Duke Ravenguard before he got captured.

Right now, it's Just Some Guy, and he's gone before you could've gotten into the burning building.

But what if—but what if you meet the Duke, and he has no idea who you are, but you can tell him you're a Baldurian and suddenly he's like 'I must help you, because my city's people are not unaffected.' And you get the chance to point out it's, at most, four of you in the woods. But the Duke says that four is enough. That even one would be enough. He appologises that he needs the time to gather his supplies and people, but come to Walkeen's Rest tomorrow and you will head out to return to the Gate and the best healers within it at the first light of dawn

...and then you show up and the goddamn town is on fire.

Wyll would get an alternate scene where he's heartened to see his father after so long, attempts to explain, and yet his father scorns him for the monster he's become (if you've met Karlach) or tethered himself to (if Karlach isn't there or already turned over to Mizora). Wyll attempts to explain, but his father cuts him off, says he'll never forgive him. Then the Duke catches himself. Apologises that his responsibilities and duties as a Duke must come between them. And that, in lieu of forgiveness, he could at least listen to Wyll. But that he is too angry right now, and any explanation would fall on deafened ears. Please, the Duke pleads with us. Come back tomorrow, if you could stomach a father who could not give his forgiveness, but would at least give you supplies for the road instead. And of course Wyll gives you puppy dog eyes so you agree.

That night, Wyll tells you a little of what brought him to Mizora's feet, and his hopes that, even if his father couldn't forgive him, the two of them may tomorrow reach an understanding, at least. Wyll tells you how long he's said nothing to his father, from his fears of what he would think, trying to protect the Duke from Wyll's own follies. But that he sees now that Wyll wasn't trying to protect his father or the Gate, but himself. Wyll cannot tell his father everything—because at this point Wyll doesn't even know—but you can help bolster his resolve to tell his father what he can.

...then you wake and the village is on fire.