#it's remarkable that all four of us are going to have four finished cosplays all things considered

[polycraftory]

How's your wednesday going? Oh, ours? Very normal! We have a sword hanging in our shower.

My husband's work in progress prop crafting for his Gideon Nav cosplay (from Gideon the Ninth). Anyone else last minute cosplay crafting for NY Comic Con or is it just us?

[naoyas90dayfiance]

NSFW Alphabet | Naoya Zen'in

NSFW

Naoya Zen'in x GN!Reader

NSFW Alphabet for Naoya under the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After Naoya finishes having sex with his spouse he's going to lie next to them. There won’t be much of a cuddling session or a romantic pillow talk; but, he's going to stay next to you until you feel better to get up and clean yourself up.

The aftercare is more about that he's going to want to stay around you after you're both clean and doing you’re doing the duties around the house. He's going to ask you to stay around him during the day. He wouldn't be able to let go of your presence because he doesn’t want to lose the connection he created with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is everything about himself, he can't decide.

His favorite part about you is your eyes. For him, the eyes tell how others are emotionally, and to see you looking at him with a loving gaze makes his heart melt inside.

This also means he expects a lot of eye contact when having sex with you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is salty and kind of bittersweet, it's because of his diet.

He will marry you again if you put his cum on your chest when he comes in it. Play with his cum and he'll get an adrenaline rush and will feel extreme love for you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Naoya watches porn and hentai. He watches some videos out of curiosity or because they turn him on.

His favorite category on porn sites is related to house duties, by the way. Naoya can't see his spouse sweeping without getting turned on.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Naoya has had a few partners in the past. They were people he found attractive and that they were all over him because of his rank and family. But those encounters didn't mean much to him.

Naoya during sex with his spouse he likes to think that he knows what he's doing, but he doesn't. However, he's going to pretend as he does. Please, tell him what you like. He's a fast learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary and mating position.

He really likes to look at your face when having sex.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's not serious or goofy.

He teases you a lot in the bedroom. He says things that are related to how the naughty side of you is something others don't see at first glance. He will also say dirty remarks about how you're enjoying his cock so much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I believe he trims it. He doesn't like the appearance of a big bush. Also, he thinks that trimming it makes his cock look bigger too. His hair is green.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

When Naoya is having sex with you in the bedroom, things can get intimate very fast. During those moments he’ll say that he loves you.

Sex for him is a way to connect with his partner.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Naoya jerks off at least three to four times a week. But he doesn't like to do it; he prefers having sex with his partner or having his partner giving him a handjob.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Naoya's kinks are degradation, breeding, dom/sub dynamics, size kink. He loves absolutely anything involving power play.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom.

However, when Naoya has gotten his ego hurt he doesn't take clever decisions and can take you in public places or where other people can easily run into you two.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Naoya gets turned on by submissiveness, dominance, lingering, teasing, banter, bickering, and anything. It's very easy to get him going once he has chosen you as his partner. He's always ready to go.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Honestly, this dude is freaky. He'll try a lot of stuff.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Naoya prefers receiving head than giving it.

He's the one giving it to you when it's your birthday or it's a special holiday. And honestly, he's very good at licking you and getting messy. Had you seen him using his tongue? He knows how to use it to pleasure you. So, it does feel like a present.

If you get pregnant, he will 100% give you head. If you can't, then he will give you head when you had done something for the clan.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Naoya's pace is rough, he usually gets too excited when having sex so there's going to be A LOT of skin slapping.

He gets a sensual and slow pace when he's feeling down or he's appreciating all that you do for him. It's a very romantic moment when he thrusts to see your reactions and kiss you deeply.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Naoya likes quickies. They usually happen when he sees you cooking or doing house duties. They're very fast, needy, and desperate. There's not much kissing but a lot of fucking. They happen at least five times a month.

However, he still prefers proper sex as he can drag it out for longer and do more things that he wants to try with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Naoya is not the one proposing the risky stuff. If you want them, you have to ask him.

It takes a lot to get him to agree on certain things, but he'll give them one go because why not, knowledge is power amirite.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Naoya has a lot of stamina. Had you seen the training of the jujutsu sorcerers?

He can go as much as you want, baby. The first round always takes him not much to finish, but the other ones get progressively longer. It's a fun night, for sure.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Naoya doesn't like toys, but he has a rope or a pair of handcuffs around. Whatever you do with it, it's up to you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Naoya likes to tease a lot.

He sneaks up behind you to get you turned on, and then he'll leave and pretend nothing happened. And he'll do that again and again until it's finally time to go to your chamber, where he can have his fun with you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Naoya isn't loud. He tries to keep himself very quiet but sometimes a few grunts and low moans escape his lips when something feels very good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Naoya enjoys it when you do cosplay during your dirty time together. I insist he's an anime fan and I will push that agenda all day.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Naoya has a good 7-inch dick on his pants with a pretty mushroom head. He's uncut.

When he's aroused you can see his veins popping out on the skin, some of them look purple and green. If you uncover his head when working on his dick, you're going to find a gorgeous pink flushed mushroom head. He drips a lot of pre-cum from his slit.

His underside vein pops a lot too. And his hard cock slaps directly to his abdomen. His cock curves upward a little bit too, and it's perfect for that friction.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high, someone please have sex with Naoya. He needs it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Naoya after sex at night falls asleep very fast. He won't mind if you cuddle him when he's snoozing though.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 135

I think y’all are in for a treat with this one. I won’t spoil it, though, other than to say that @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog thought this chapter was hilarious.

Think about that, please. Charly and Arthur think this chapter is hilarious.

Eyeah. That’s all I’ve got to say about that. I do not take responsibility for any injuries sustained.

As always, please don’t forget to check out the podcast! I will plug it shamelessly, so you may as well.

“Where are they?” Alistair murmured while he searched our shared office thoroughly.  Had it been anyone else, I would say he was being calm, but the fact that he was searching for anything, at all, tagged it in my head as a downright frantic pace.

“Where are what?”

“Nothing,” he dismissed, despite continuing his search.

I furrowed my brows. “You haven’t even had your tea yet. Or your breakfast?”

A pale hand waved me off. “I am aware.”

Shrugging, I gave it up as a lost cause and went back to the list of evacuees that Tyche and I had drafted up. After whipping up a preliminary list of who was assigned where, we were doing a more thorough second pass to ensure no conflicts of personality.  Deep in thought, I paid Alistair no attention until Parvati and Hannah arrived fifteen minutes later.

“Alistair, they aren’t here, so you can stop looking,” Hannah grinned as she took her accustomed seat.

“I am sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Surrrrre you don’t. Just like I’m sure you don’t know why several of the paint pens ran out of pigment,” Parvati assured him in the most sincere tone I had ever heard. My former therapist would have been proud.

I fought back a smile as he straightened and finally stopped his search, even going so far as to tug his shirt to get any wrinkles out. “I know no such thing.”  With that, he turned his back to all three of our snickering faces, requesting his usual tea and scone from the food console.

Composing my face, I tried to be serious for a minute. “You should eat fast, because our appointment with Arthur Farro is in about fi - “

My door whooshed open. Speak of the devil.

“ - ve minutes early, apparently,” I finished.

Unperturbed as usual, the subject of my previous suggestion strolled in with his usual air of confidence.  Just as he was going to take a seat beside Parvati, he leaned across the table. “Aww, no kiwi or pomegranate on your clotted cream this morning? Poor fing,” he said with a mocking pout.

“I am baffled why everyone believes such things of me,” Alistair grumbled into his tea with a scowl.

I sputtered. “You were using the pens on your breakfast?”

He didn’t even bother denying the chorus of confirmations from those around him, taking the higher road of sudden deafness. “Farro, I am still not entirely sure why a former warlord is necessary for discussions of an evacuation plan.”

“Warlords are generally just berserkers if they don’t have anyone to be ‘lord’ of.” Farro shot a dazzling smile as I supressed a groan. “But then again, being British, I’m sure you got confused, what with all the lords that were there in the last century without even land to their names.”

It really was easier sometimes to do things without either of them. Time to step in. “Gentlemen,” I purred in my most annoyingly ‘motivational’ tone possible, “the bathroom is right through that door, if you would like to continue your pissing contest.  However, some of us have actual work to do, so whether you fuck it out or fight it out, please do so on your own time.”

Both mouths shut with an audible click, and both men looked away from me. But at least they were quiet. Sophia: 1, Whatever-the-hell-this-was: 0.

I forged ahead while I had the chance. “Arthur, thank you for taking time to meet with us regarding the plans for fortifying the safety points. I’m sorry that Tyche couldn’t be here, however she scheduled her stay-cation several months ago and frankly deserves it.” By which I meant I had bribed Derek with a nauseating amount of bao to disable any communications to or from this office from going to her data pad until the start of her first shift post-vacation, and threatened my entire family within an inch of their lives to keep them from bringing up work around her for the next week. “However, I do have her concerns and suggestions ready, I assure you.”

With a scowl, he glanced at me and stood, calling up the emitter-map of the Ark. Quickly, he sketch circles around each of the ‘bunkers’ we had designated. “Xiomara had very sound judgement in the locations she chose for safe-zones, and I honestly expected it. Between her and Evania, there is a frankly terrifying amount of strategic prowess in what is theoretically our Health and Safety office.”

“You can’t be healthy or safe if you’re dead,” Hannah pointed out.

He tossed her a wink and grin. “Touche. However, none of them are perfect. This location,” he leaned to tap and zoom on a mess hall, “is fortified, has access to food and drink, even if you have to furiously call up non-perishables and potable water, and only has one entrance/egress.  A huge entry/egress, unfortunately: the door is ten meters wide.”

Parvati tapped a couple times on her datapad before chiming in. “It does close, however. And it locks.”

Arthur shook his head. “In two panels, each five meters wide. If even one is blown, the gap is indefensible. Both, everyone in there is free for the taking.”

“You are suggesting we ask Miys to narrow the aperture of the door?” I groaned when I heard Alistair leverage his overly-formal language.

It didn’t get any better when Arthur nodded. “Worst they can say is no, but the size of the door is simply for ease of access and to assuage anyone with proximity issues. Now that we all have these handy alerts - “ he tapped his temple for emphasis “ - it isn’t nearly as necessary. Noah? Bud? What do you think?”

The buzz from the ceiling was clearly amused. “I am amenable if this is a solution. As Arthur pointed out, the width of that door is no longer necessary.”

“Annnd there we go,” Arthur shrugged. “The boatwright said yes, if that’s what we want.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor when Alistair nodded firmly and stood. Swiftly, he highlighted three more areas. “These have the same potential concern. We should include those in the proposal.”

‘We’? ‘We’ whomst??? Since when were they on the same side?

“I agree,” Arthur continued enthusiastically, causing my head to start twinging in pain. “According to the engineers and the chemisists on board, the material of the Ark is remarkably fire-retardant despite it’s organic nature - let’s hear it for advanced civilizations - so there is no additional need for fire doors. There is however a possibility of concussive damage to the actual doors in any area, despite how thick the actual walls are.”

“Tyche recommended shock-absorbent material on the exteriors of each door, dropped via internal trigger and held taught by wires rather than any sort of scaffolding,” I suggested, recovering my focus. I flicked the concept at the emitter, where it was displayed alongside the schematic of the Ark. “Using wires would allow us to also store it in a roll at the top of the door, and allow pulleys to draw the wires embedded in the bulkhead down to cover the entire door.”

Hannah nodded thoughtfully. “The materials she suggests are a good idea - definitely maximizes shock absorption as much as possible. My only concern is that we can probably double the flame resistance of the materials for only a ten-percent loss of effectiveness.”

Calling up my datapad, I smiled as I quoted. “ ‘However, Hannah is a professional weaver and seamstress, and therefore I defer to her on any suggestions regarding materials used, provided there is no more than twenty-percent loss of efficacy’. Apparently she did the calculations and had Charly and Conor both check behind her - anything below twenty percent loss, and the blast would blow the doors.”

“And when did the more sensible Miss Reid learn engineering?” Alistair asked in what sounded like genuine curiosity.

“Tuesdays - I think?” I scrunched my face and searched my memory. “It was something very important when we were cosplaying.”

Arthur snorted, but gestured an apology when Alistair affixed him with a downright lethal glare.

Hannah ignored them both. “Wool… We should be able to synthesize raw wool, instead of the plant based materials here. Best of both worlds - fluffy, incredibly flame resistant, and disperses concussive force like nothing else. Line it with silk for shrapnel? We should be good.”

“Fortress defense via quilts. I like it,” Arthur grinned savagely.

“There is a reason tapestries were so important in the Middle Ages,” Alistair snarked at him. “Both flame resistant and insulating, both very good qualities when you see by torches and candles in a drafty residence that echoes like a cathedral.”

Arthur held his hands up in surrender. “Not arguing, no worries… Genuine respect, swear.”

“Better…”

“Annnnd forging on from whatever-the-fuck-that-was,” I interjected, trying to focus on the topic at hand rather than… well, whatever the fuck that was, “That’s overlarge entries and concussive force taken care of. What other concerns did you have, Arthur?”

“Frankly? Camouflage,” he told us sternly. “The best way to protect against an invading enemy is to make it so hard to find you that it isn’t worth the effort.  All these defenses are good an all, but… they’ll stick out like a sore thumb and practically scream ‘Hey! We’re in HERE!’ “ I stifled a laugh when he hopped and waved his arms furiously.

“Very dignified, Farro,” Alistair sniffed as he stood to get more tea.

“I know, right? I’m so classy…”

Rolling my eyes and still regretting having them both in my office at the same time, “We actually have the camouflage solved for.” You could have heard a pin drop, all four of them frozen, mouths open. “It came through this morning from Zach.” I swiped the fortress-quilt specs down, and popped up the plans for the camouflage. “We’re thinking on the visible spectrum, since humans are sight animals. Zach went with a ‘most common denominator’ approach - scent, infrared, acoustic, everything but electromagnetic vision.  The quilts cover the infrared and the majority of the acoustic issues: if any body-heat shows through fifteen inches of fluffed wool and a bulkhead door, we’re doomed no matter what.” I highlighted a line of data. “Scent, likewise: Zach is suggesting aeresolized, low concentration sulfur throughout the majority of the Ark, excluding the safe-zones. The safe-zones will also have one of Miys stationed in each one, acting essentially as an air scrubber. This will minimize acoustics from active air filtration, while also adhering to Miys being a non-participant: they will be present to ensure our comfort due to minimizing body odor, nothing more.  This was already planned, the fact that it will protect us from being detected by scent is just a lagniappe.”

I waited for the thoughtful nods to pass and decided I did not see the glance that Arthur and Alistair exchanged. As long as they didn’t draw blood during the meeting, I would let it slide. “Where it gets sticky is neuroelectric. Zach, it seems, took a page out of Charly’s manual-of-mischief.” I zoomed in on the specific line of the prospectus and waited.

“He wants to what?” Hannah asked, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh I like this,” came the ‘devil’ in ‘devil’s advocate’.

“How would it even work?” Parvati asked, genuinely curious.

I chose that one to respond to. “Just like the microfilament wires that will support the quilts, he wants to cover the walls inside several false locations with a mesh and electrify it to mimic human synaptic energy. Needle in a haystack theory.”

“Wait,” Alistair held up a hand to interrupt. “Are you also proposing that the doors to these false locations will be covered in the quilts?”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “Given how far from prospective entry points all of the safe-zones are located, they would run into several false locations before they encounter a real one.”

“And if they decide to tear into all the locations, even the false-positives?” Arthur poked, trying to find a hole in the idea. Which, I had to concede, was why he was even here instead of sending me messages for this.

“What if they decide to tear into every mess hall? Or every door? We can’t plan for everything.” I shook my head. “However, we can factor in a few things that seem pretty consistent despite species - Beings who don’t have legitimate work and take slaves are generally prone to laziness, despite somehow working harder to avoid work than I have ever actually worked a day in my life.  Point being, give them enough false positives on the way, they won’t actually search everything no matter what they say.”

“Speculation and hearsay, not admissible in court.”

“Au contraire, mon frère. Charly did the sociological analysis on all the species most likely to be pirates in the region of the galaxy where we will exit relativistic space, and her estimates are that the plan has a sixty-to-eighty-percent chance of success in the event that all human combatants fail. And I, personally, agree.” 

He conceded a low whistle. “Damn. If I didn’t like Evan so much, I would say Charly is being wasted with Huynh. Objection withdrawn.”

“Quite,” Alistair agreed smugly. “Miss Harper’s plan is a sound one. The Archives, however - “

I interrupted, still irritated about the topic. “You will be stationed immediately inside the doors to defend against any intruders who make it that far, while Tyche will be defending the y-junction between the speculative fiction and historical fiction categories to prevent intruders from reaching the actual people.”

“But the religious studies section - “

“Has already been scanned down to a molecular level to preserve the information, even if we can’t restore any actual artifacts,” Parvati advised in a profoundly bored tone. “You do realize that anyone who reaches that section will not be able to reach the actual people from there without doubling back, right?”

“Miss Fletcher, there is a Gutenberg Bible on this Ark, potentially the last one in existence.” The tone was icy enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Phee,” Arthur threw out, guaranteeing my irate attention, “Is there any issue with moving the Gutenberg to the Speculative Fiction section until we meet with the Ekomari fleet?”

“Are you seri - “

“Not to placate the Monarchist, I swear. Just - that is a profoundly important historical artifact, even if I agree with nearly none of the contents. The start of the Information age! Literature in the hands of the vulgar masses! Your field of study would have never existed in the form it was without that achievement. Who cares if the first use was to print the frickin’ Bible?”

Before I could object, Parvati added her prodigious two cents. “I do not have to be Christian to appreciate the illuminations in a manuscript, any more than I have to be a Muslim to be brought to my knees by the beauty of a mosque. We can appreciate the significance of something regardless of whether we agree with it or not.”

“This is probably where Charly or Tyche would point out that I am a huge fan of laws against animal abuse, despite firmly believing that Hitler was evil incarnate,” I sighed. “Yeah, we can move the Gutenberg Bible, provided - hang on, stop cheering - PROVIDED - “ I paused to make sure they were all paying attention, “that any other works of significant cultural or historical significance are moved as well. Any first additions, significant religious texts - or in lack of ‘significant’ religious texts, just a copy of each that is agreed to be acceptable by all who follow that religion. A copy of Frankenstein, The Tale of Genji, et cetera.”

I knew my request brooked exactly zero argument from Alistair, as his eyes visibly shone when I added more books to the list. What I waited for were any objections from the other three.

Sure enough, Hannah tentatively raised her hand. When I nodded, she spoke up. “I think we should do a kind of Voyager-plate: a copy, even just digital, of all our texts around music, crafts, technology, mathematics… Art, fermentation, food preparation and the history of it. Not just for this scenario!” she insisted urgently, “For any worst-case scenario. Keep a copy, or several. And put those copies, along with all the relevant artifacts that we have on board, and keep them with the people in the Archives, in the safest part of the ship.”

“Where it would take a black hole to destroy it,” Parvati whispered.

Just as the tears were threatening my eyes, Arthur flopped back in his seat and kicked his boots up onto the table. “Jesus fuck, you guys are depressing. Right, but depressing. It’s doable, though. We just transcribe it into the most common language for each version of ‘language’ in the Galaxy…”

Alistair snorted. “You warlords and your short-sightedness. Clearly, the resolution is to transcribe it into the most common language in the Galaxy with instructions on how to translate it further down.”

“No, you limey-ass bastard,” Arthur growled. “Too much is lost in translation - there is a reason the Qur’an and the Sefer Torah should never be translated to be considered valid.”

Nope. I wasn’t dealing with it. We had covered all the necessary topics, I could message the rest. I twitch my head at both Vati and Hannah, at which point they both rose from their seats. Neither was noticed by the arguing men.

Arthur was mid-sentence when a quick strike from Vati to the top of his spinal cord rendered all his words gibberish. Rather than realizing this, he glanced down at his suddenly-tingling fingertips in confusion. Hannah simply hauled Alistair out of his seat and ignored his squawked objections, her shorter but sturdier frame more than a match for his tall, slender frame and brain that was very much against violence towards women but undecided about how to stop them from chauffeuring you out of a room.

With exactly zero ceremony, both men were deposited in the corridor, to the satisfaction of all three of us. I waggled my fingers in a farewell. “Fuck it out or fight it out, I don’t care. But not in my office. Ta!”

I could not hold back the smile anymore when both started pounding on the door for entry, not realizing I had disabled their permissions right after the first volley had been thrown.  It was almost habit, at this point, to disable their permissions to my office when they started bickering, only to restore them when they decided to act like adults.

Clearly that wasn’t the case this time. Oh well, maybe in a couple hours. I would need to ask Xiomara to do a ‘sensor test’ of the gym and med bays to be sure.

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[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch. 51-56

This is the “Seras Coming of Age” part of Hellsing, but the chapters are all one-off titles: “Last Mission”, “Get Away”, “Yaksa”, “The Man I Love”, “Ogre Battle”, and “Angelous,”

Last time, Zorin Blitz’s company invaded the Hellsing HQ, and Seras managed to kill them all except for Zorin herself, and then she used her psychic whammy, forcing Seras to relive some traumatic moment.   We saw one of the Wild Geese get this same treatment, and he briefly saw his dead daughter before Zorin killed him.  As for Seras, she relives the deaths of her parents.   Years ago, two guys barged into their home and shot them.   The circumstances aren’t entirely clear, but they must have had some forewarning, since Seras’ mom hid her in a closet and told her not to come out no matter what.   But when she saw what they did to them, Seras became so enraged that she attackedthe men and stabbed one in the eye with a fork.  

The other guy shot Seras, and while she must have survived, she remembers laying on the floor as the guy she stabbed decides to rape her mother.   I’m not even sure “rape” is the right word, since she was already dead, but the guy doesn’t care because the body is “still warm.”   You’d think he’d be too upset about losing an eye, but maybe he’s high on cocaine or something.

I don’t think you need me to tell you this, gentle reader, but hol-ee shit this dark.   We knew Seras’ parents died when she was young, and it wouldn’t be hard to speculate that they died in some violent crime, but Seras watched it happen, and she stabbed a dude in the face, only to get shot herself, and she watched her mother’s body getting molested before she passed out.  

And this gives us some insight into what Alucard saw in her that night in Cheddar.  There, Seras was surrounded by ghouls, many of them her comrades in the police department, and a vampire who promised to rape her before drinking her blood.   Alucard found it remarkable how she persevered in this horror, but now we see that may not even be the worst thing that ever happened to her.  It’s not even the first time she got shot!  

And from the earlier flashback we saw, Seras was hellbound to become a police officer like her father.  After a trauma like this, it’s amazing that she’d want anything to do with the police, since those men killed her father for digging “too deep” into whatever they were involved in.  But Seras quietly, defiantly chose to follow in her father’s footsteps, only to suffer a similar fate. 

Because, let’s not forget, Seras is dead.   She died in Cheddar, because Alucard had to shoot through her to kill the vampire who had taken her hostage.   Then she agreed to become a vampire like him, and join the Hellsing Organization.   Once more, she has quietly, defiantly, chosen to carry on in this life of public service.  

But none of that matters to Zorin Blitz.   She just wanted to dredge up all this trauma to keep Seras preoccupied long enough for Zorin to do this...

Oh, also she lopped off Seras’ left arm, but I liked this impalement panel better. 

On top of that, Zorin slashes Seras’ eyes, which was pretty gruesome and shocking.   When I started watching the Hellsing Ultimate OVA, I couldn’t wait to see what happened next, so I trawled YouTube for clips of Seras, so I had a pretty good idea where the character was headed, and noticed that late-story Seras was missing a left arm.   So Zorin cutting it off didn’t surprise me much, but everything else she did to her was a surprise.

Then, just as Zorin seems to be ready to finish Seras off, Pip Bernadotte gets the drop on her and whacks her with the butt of his rifle.    Machine gun?   Semiautomatic?   I don’t know from guns.    He hits her with it, is my point.   Then he shoots her with a different gun to put the exclamation point on it.

There’s two other guys left in the Wild Geese, and they toss smoke grenades to cover Pip as he tries to carry Seras to safety, but he’s wounded, and then a Millennium soldier wakes up and shoots him in the thighs.   Was that guy playing possum?  The Geese take him out, and Pip even makes it back to them, but I’m not sure what good that does anybody.   Then Zorin gets back up and cuts him down with her scythe.    I don’t think she chops him in half or anything, but he’s not getting back up again, that’s for sure. 

Seras calls out to him, and he steals another kiss.   I guess he forgot about the last time, because he acts like he “finally” managed to do this.   Then he asks Seras to drink his blood, which will allow her to win.   I guess someone must have explained enough vampire lore to Pip for him to have figured this out.    Maybe Seras herself told him how it worked, which makes it doubly-meaningful for him to say this to her now.  

And Seras starts wailing with grief, before Zorin finally mocks her for it, calling Pip an insect.   I’ve seen a few people poke fun at this scene, because it’s kind of weird for Zorin to just stand by while Pip and Seras have this final moment together, but Zorin’s a sadist.   Much of what she’s done in these past several chapters has been about reveling in her enemies’ suffering.    She took her sweet time with Seras earlier, which was the only reason Pip managed to help her, and now she’s taking her sweet time again, like she’s enjoying this drama. 

So Zorin uses her psychic whammy again, but this time it doesn’t work on Seras.   Maybe because Seras is already in the middle of a terrible trauma in the here and now.   She couldn’t do anything to avenge her parents back then, and she was powerless against the Cheddar Priest, but this time?   This time she knows exactly what to do.

VENIT AEVUS ILLE, O MESSIAH, O MESSIAH

YUDULIYA-VELE YUDULIYA-VELE

EN ESE MOMENTO ZORIN BLITZ SINTIO EL VERDADERO TERROR.

So yeah, this rocks.    The anime version does this cool thing where all the blood soaks up into her clothes and stains them red.   Maybe the manga was going for the same thing, but it’s harder to tell in black and white.   I find it kind of strange how Seras’ eyes grow back, but her left arm does not.    I’m pretty sure she could reform her arm, but chooses not to.   Instead, she’s got this black ectoplasm-y thing, like the same black stuff that Alucard uses when he’s not holding back as much.

Then Seras starts slaughtering Zorin’s men.   Didn’t she already kill them all?  Yeah, but there’s more.   The anime tries to cover for this by having Zorin explain that some “late arrivals” showed up.  Well, they did have to enter the building single file to get past the mines, so it makes sense that Zorin would keep some in reserve in case there were more traps inside. 

Seras is my favorite character in this whole thing, and since these pages of her kickin’ ass speak for themselves, I guess I’ll talk about why I like her so much.    I’m pretty sure I saw a cosplay photo of her on tumblr, and I found the design intriguing.   She’s a vampire, but dressed in something like a military uniform, kind of like the “Bridge Bunnies” in Macross. I looked up Seras to find out what she was from, and I was like “Oh, Hellsing was the show Team Four Star has been abridging, I guess I need to watch that anyway so I can watch the Abridged version and get the jokes.”

Mostly, I just like the idea of a vampire with a very professional mentality, as opposed to the whole Lost Boys/What We Do in the Shadows/Buffy kind of aesthetic.    Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but we see that sort of thing all the time.   I’ve also seen a lot of “reluctant” vampires in my time.    Vampires who try to avoid doing any vampire stuff, or going about their business like the vampirism is just this inconvenient obstacle.   Hellsing presents this other option, where vampires like Alucard are used for the purpose of anti-vampire countermeasures.   He’s been turned into a weapon, but he’s basically just Dracula with a fresh coat of paint.   Seras is more firmly rooted in the concept.  Alucard was a vampire who became a sort of cop, and Seras is a cop who became a vampire. 

And while I liked the idea of Seras being like “Oh, well I didn’t want to be a vampire but I’ll try to make the best of it”, I quickly found out that she wasn’t just a cop with pointy teeth.   There’s moments where she can be scary and creepy too.   “Sir, yes sir, my Master.”  It sums her up very neatly.   This is a vampire who can be polite and respectful and professional, but she can also get very deep into the more horrific aspects of this thing.   She’s got layers.  Zorin Blitz tried to peel them back, and look how that’s working out for her.

Once the rank and file goons are dealt with, Seras goes after Blitz, and just wrecks her shit.   Blitz tries to punch Seras in the face and it does nothing.   Seras just bites all her fingers off and spits ‘em out.   Then she announces that she refuses to drink Zorin’s blood, not a single drop. This is important, because Seras was always reluctant to drink blood.  She said she feared that drinking blood would mean the end of something inside of her, but now she’s crossed that Rubicon.   One might suspect that she’d suddenly want to drink more blood, but no.  She drank Pip’s as a means to an end.   Zorin’s blood would serve no higher purpose, and I think there’s an implication that she doesn’t want to dishonor Pip’s sacrifice.  Desperate, Zorin tries to use her power on Seras a third time, and then this happens:

  Okay, so at first Zorin sees Seras’ memories, like before, but now there’s all this stuff from Pip’s memories, and then Warrant Officer Shrodinger, of all people, shows up.   Zorin is confused by this, but he explains that he’s “everywhere and nowhere,” which means he can appear in this psychic vision just as easily as he can teleport between Brazil and England.

Schrodinger is here to pass along a message from the Major.  See, Zorin disobeyed his orders, and he would normally punish her for this, but he and the Doctor are busy with a “most interesting toy”, so they’ll just leave it to Seras to take care of punishing Zorin.  

Yesterday, I think I figured out what Zorin’s disobedience was.    Before I was confused because she didn’t start attacking until Seras opened fire on her blimp, and that only happened because Seras was shooting at the rockets fired by the Major.   Everything that Zorin did afterwards could be considered a matter of self-defense, but therein lies the problem.    Namely, what was Zorin’s blimp doing in the line of fire to begin with?  

Because once Seras shot her down, everything Zorin did next was sort of her only option.   She pretty much had to attack the mansion, and brave its defenses, whatever those happened to be.   And the Major knew that this was a big unknown.   He warned Zorin about Seras Victoria and while he didn’t seem to know exactly what her abilities were, he regarded her as an “arch-enemy” on the same level as Alucard.  That’s why he wanted Zorin to hold off and wait for the rocket attack.   It was intended to probe the mansion’s defenses, and once it became clear that they had anti-aircraft guns, and that Seras was eagle-eyed enough to shoot down their rockets, then the Major could have ordered Zorin to find a different way.   

But instead she was too close and gave Seras a target, which precipitated everything else, up to and including this:

Yeah, Seras just drags Zorin across the walls until her whole head smears apart.   Cool!

With Zorin dead, Seras delcares her intention to take the fight to the enemy, and the last three Wild Geese salute her before she leaves.   One way or another, they realize that Pip has become a part of Seras now, and they pay their last respects to him through her. 

Then Seras flies toward London, using her left arm-thing to make cool bat wings.    And this is a good illustration of what Seras is all about.  Once, she might have been horrified at the thought of doing something like this, but now she sees it as a way to carry on with her duty.    This was what Alucard had been trying to get her to understand, but sometimes you just have to work these things out in your own way.   Seras is about utility, and now that she has a use for these vampiric powers, she’s finally prepared to embrace them as her own.

In London, Schrodinger reports back to the Major and informs him of Zorin Blitz’s death.  He’s not surprised, and even declares “our ruin has begun”.   Schrodinger points out that he’s leading everyone, friend and foe alike, into destruction, and the Major simply observes that this is war.   Millennium didn’t come to London to win, they came to London to fight.

Then the Ninth Crusade shows up.  Recall that, earlier, Enrico Maxwell organized a military response to deal with the Millennium invasion of London, but he hasn’t come here to save the civilian population.   Instead, he’s treating them as enemies, just like the Nazi vampires.    Somehow, there’s still living people in the city, and as dawn approaches, they see Maxwell’s helicopters putting off some sort of light show.  I don’t know what you call this, but the people on the ground think it’s angels, and then Maxwell orders his men to open fire.

I want to point out that the newly promoted Archbishop Maxwell is riding into this battle in a special truck with a glass box for him to sit in.   He’s surrounded by microphones so he can address his troops and the people below.   Also the truck is hanging from a helicopter.   It’s stupid and pointless and over-the-top, so naturally the Major is highly impressed with Maxwell’s style. 

[meow-bebe]

October Blues

Pairing: Johnny Suh x reader

Genre: fluff, angst, kind of college au (not explicitly mentioned but its what i was thinking of while writing)

Word Count: 1.4k

Tonight’s Soundtrack: Pumpkin - The Regrettes

A/n: my first finished halloween request! for anon, “hi cosmo 😊 may i request 63 with johnny? agsjfhsklfjs he /is/ the tallest after all😭”. sorry this got a bit angsty at the end, i just have too much unrequited love ideas bouncing around in side my head. also, my nerdiness popped out so I apologise if you don't like doctor who. i know this probably wasnt what you were thinking of but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Oh, the joy of unexpected costume parties. Putting together a good costume could be a painstaking process for those that want to do it right, and apparently that process was not something that Mark Lee understood. Not that this was a spectacular revelation or anything, considering how last year he had shown up to his own party in an old red t-shirt with a bunch of lines sharpied on to vaguely resemble Spiderman’s suit. It had even been voted worse than Lucas’ costume, and he had shown up shirtless with what appeared to be an old bath towel chopped up and strung around his neck in a poor attempt at something along the lines of a neck ruff, and had the audacity to call himself a vampire. Not that most people stopped to question it, the sight of his bare chest was enough to make the majority of people who saw him drool. Unfortunately, you were one of the few that were focused enough on the costume contest (and winning it) to be offended by his lack of effort. 

Though your costumes were known to be tedious but rewarding projects, often including quite a bit of planning and sewing, they were also known to be hastily finished at about five in the afternoon on October thirty-first. As a result, you had absolutely nothing to wear to Mark’s seemingly impromptu week-before-Halloween party. (Knowing Mark, it was also more than likely that he had forgotten to invite you until the last moment.) Which was an issue, because now you had nothing to wear. 

With only one day to prepare, you thought you had done pretty well for yourself. Adorned in an ill-fitting brown trench coat you had managed to convince Johnny to let you borrow, a tie you just happened to have sitting around, and a navy blue collared shirt you may or may not have stolen from your roommate, you had managed to put together a somewhat accurate cosplay of the Doctor. You had been forced to make do with an old pair of converse that were so covered in paint it was barely noticeable that they were red and a regular pair of jeans, but overall you were pretty proud of your hastily put together costume. 

Unfortunately, no one else was. Or at least no one knew who the Doctor was. You wouldn’t be surprised, Mark’s parties weren’t exactly known for their nerdy clientele. Which was probably why you didn’t particularly enjoy his Halloween parties. In fact, you had just about no idea why you were here tonight, other than it was Mark Lee and he was notoriously hard to say no to. Plus if absolutely no one got your costume, you could always find Johnny. 

Johnny was Mark’s roommate, and definitely the more tolerable of the pair. You loved Mark, but hanging around him could get tiring after a while. Johnny was definitely quite the sociable person, and he could blend into any crowd which worked well for you. He was easy to talk to, and you shared some interests so there was always material for conversation, but he also never expected much out of you. You could sit in silence and be perfectly comfortable. 

And, as it seemed no one that you had run into yet shared your love of sci fi, you had made your way outside to try and find Johnny. He wasn’t hard to locate, there was a fire going in the firepit in their pitiful excuse for a front yard, and as you had seen Mark attempting to start some vaguely halloween themed games surrounded by several of his slightly tipsy friends inside, Johnny was probably making sure no one caught themselves on fire. 

Just as you predicted, there he was, his large figure easily spotted as you left the house, dodging around a couple of girls hanging out on the porch steps. Johnny was perched on the brick wall that ran down the street separating the sidewalk from the yards, the charred stick he always liked to use to poke things around when he was in charge of the fire next to him. The section of the grass beyond the sidewalk was unusually large, which had always made you wonder why the wall was there at all, as the yard could have just been sloped downwards, but it let them put the firepit out there so you let it slide. 

“Hey John,” you greet, sitting down next to him and kicking your legs in front of you. Jaehyun stands in front of the fire to your left, a pair of cat ears perched on his head, and you offer him a small smile before looking back to Johnny. 

He looks your outfit over, raising his eyebrows at the red and blue 3D glasses perched on your head. “Who are you dressed as again?”

You roll your eyes. “As I told you when I texted you to borrow the coat, I’m the Doctor. David Tennant’s Doctor, specifically.”

“I knew you were the Doctor,” Jaehyun pipes up. “The glasses add a nice touch.”

“Thank you Jae,” you say, elbowing Johnny. “See? I’m not totally unrecognizable.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a nerd too,” you roll your eyes again, and bump your shoulder against Johnny’s. 

“Hey!” Jaehyun protests.

“Oh, don’t deny it.” You smirk before adding, “Nice ears by the way.”

Even in the fading light, you can see that Jaehyun’s ears (the non-cat ears anyway) flamed red, and he stuttered out something about how they were his sister’s and he didn’t have anything else. Seeing that you were still snickering at him, he rolled his eyes. “I’m heading inside. See you later.” 

You and Johnny chorus your goodbyes, attention turning back to each other. He wasn’t wearing anything remarkable, which was odd because Mark had made it clear that a costume was required. “What are you supposed to be?” you question.

“I’m the tall dark handsome stranger your parents warned you about.” His eyes crinkle up into a smile as you snort and burst out laughing. 

“You’re ridiculous is what you are.” 

“It works on most people.”

You elbow him again. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not most people.”

The temperature had begun dropping for the night, and the wind had begun to pick up again. You shiver as the chill starts to seep into your bones, tugging your coat tighter around your body and laying your head on Johnny’s shoulder, hoping to absorb a bit of warmth from him. 

Johnny stiffens just the tiniest bit, so little that you don’t even notice. He can’t quite think to realise you might find that reaction a bit odd, not with the way that you have your head laid up against him, and how if you were to lean up just a smidge you could easily press a sweet kiss against his throat. And, oh, how he wishes you would. But he knows that to you, he’s just John. You know him through a mutual friend, and you’ve never hung out with him outside the times you drift to the edge of your friend group, feeling as though they’re too noisy for you. 

Maybe it’s just the wistfulness that comes with October nights, the feeling that summer has really truly faded away for the colder months to take their hold, but tonight Johnny can feel those little pricks of pain that loving someone who barely looks in your direction causes a bit more than usual. Sure, maybe he is the one that you’re all cuddled up against, and perhaps his mind is just playing cruel tricks, but he could swear he catches your eyes repeatedly flicking over towards one of the several people crowded on the porch. You had been talking to one of the girls standing there inside earlier, and even though Johnny has always known that he would never be yours, it still hurts to consider you having eyes for someone else. 

He had come to terms with his one sided love a while ago, but for some reason tonight everything that he had been trying his best to keep down was hitting a lot harder than usual. Perhaps it was something about Halloween, after all Johnny knew it was your favorite holiday. Yes, that was probably it.

“John?” your voice interrupts his thoughts and he looks down at you, head still resting on his shoulder, wrapped up in his coat. “What’re you thinking about? You spaced out for a second there.”

Johnny huffs out a little laugh, staring across the street to watch the leaves tumble down from his neighbor’s tree, the streetlamp four houses down illuminating them in an eerie but strangely comforting way. 

“Oh, nothing….” he says, just a little hint of the longing that filled his heart bleeding through to his words.

@kpopscape​

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E91 (Jan. 21, 2020)

Good evening, everyone! Sorry about missing last week; @eponymous-rose​ was out of town and I had some other commitments. Regardless, here we are! Brian is looking handsome and cold, as are Sam & Travis on the couch. Everyone is wearing coats. Is the heat broken?

That said, tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham & Sam Riegel.

Brian starts us off asking Sam if he’s remaking the Wire in Beverly Hills. Sam basically embodies that hello fellow kids meme tonight in a hand-knitted beanie from his wife, a bomber jacket, a yellow tee, and skinny jeans. They quickly photoshop in smoke trailing out of his mouth. We’re just a few minutes in and this is off the rails already.

Announcements: The next issue (#5) of Vox Machina comics comes out Wednesday, Feb. 19! It’s also available online at Dark Horse Digital and Comixology. And that’s it! Huh.

Episode 91: Stone to Clay

Brian tells us this is the first time ever to have Sam & Travis alone on Talks. I’m stunned and so are they. Sam says, “between me, Brian, Dani, and Travis right now, there’s four tens on this show right now.”

We’re already into questions less than ten minutes into the show. Truly this is a remarkable night.

63 in game days and 21 episodes passed between Caduceus’s first mention of Stone (episode 71) and Fjord connecting the dots. Travis blames the internet connection and his really bad ADHD night, as that was the night he and Laura remoted in from the hotel.

Brian tells us that when Ashley used to skype in, she could only see Matt & couldn’t see or really hear anyone else.

Travis says there was a huge delay for him between mouths moving and the audio coming through, and then that audio was pretty distorted. Laura could handle it okay, but Travis just heard a jumble and couldn’t parse it.

Sam took a CBD bath the other day and found it exactly as relaxing as a normal bath. Sam & Travis commiserate about taking baths only to have their knees pop out of the water. Tall people problems smh

Caleb & Nott completed the spell in less than a week, including dealing with the Angel of Irons & brokering peace treaties. Travis though the laughter was going to be Helas.

Travis says he definitely didn’t hear the name the first time (he remembered dust but not stone from the lava pits). “Look! Yes! No, I was not listening before! Thursday nights are my times to enjoy my friends and food! Marisha is an amazing note-taker; why would I ever take my own? This is how I got through college!”

Sam says he keeps a mission checklist in his head and has for ages. He has a page in his notebook labeled “To Do” that includes things like visiting Kiri or Shakaste, in case they have downtime and need ideas.

Travis asks if he continues writing in his (apparently) very small handwriting, and Sam says he has to leave room for Laura to draw all her dicks. They all marvel that she is actually a very good artist.

Travis honestly still thinks the Stone name is a huge coincidence, especially since Taliesin didn’t have access to Fjord’s last name when he created Caduceus’s last name and backstory. Sam challenges Travis that even if that were true, doesn’t he think Matt will find a way to tie it together?

Travis says Fjord doesn’t want anything to do with the last name and it’s not even his real name. He’s not convinced this isn’t a coincidence.

Travis did a lot of research into orphanage naming conventions when coming up with Stone. He does have a backstory as to how the orphanage manager picked Stone as his name.

Travis thinks Matt would have emphasized the Stone name more sooner if it had been a true connection and not coincidence.

Brian: “He does like to take credit for coincidences, doesn’t he?”

Nott didn’t think there was a catch in the ritual; Sam was more surprised they were allowed to achieve the milestone at all. He was shocked it happened so soon in the story and that the spell is relatively easy to cast.

He didn’t know it would fail, but there was a moment when he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through with it. Travis agrees everyone was shocked when it didn’t work.

Fjord’s current stance on faith and destiny hasn’t changed since the last time he discussed it. Faith is a slow thing for Fjord and he really does think the name is a coincidence.

Sam as a player is excited to see what comes next for Nott; “if she had been transformed into Veth at that moment, I would have been excited to see what comes next. The fact that it’s still Nott makes me excited too. I’m excited to see more of Nott since she’s the best character in the M9.” He also confesses he was a bit relieved, in part because it’s delayed the inevitable. At some point she must decide if she is going to stay or go with the M9.

Cosplay of the Week: @kajicosplays​ on instagram of a lovely lady Percy. Brian: “Isn’t it fun when Taliesin’s characters live?”

Deep down, Nott knows she will do the transformation at some point, but at that last moment where she had to make a decision she had to check in with herself to make sure she was ready. Sam Riegel as a D&D player also knows that you have to trust your DM and make choices.

Brian misreads the word “ribbing.” Sam teaches Travis what rimming is. We all learn a lot about each other.

Sam thinks Fjord can realize when the time comes to set jokes aside. He thinks Fjord was very respectful. Travis has honestly forgotten that the conversation took place.

Travis has Dani answer from Fjord’s perspective. It’s actually pretty insightful, talking about how Fjord recognized someone hesitant to give up these newfound powers that have become intrinsically tied to self-worth.

Fjord has always been loyal, and Travis sees his protectiveness of the M9 as a logical extension of this.

Right now, he has found some agency & self-direction and is hopeful to share that sense with everyone else (he especially mentions Yasha).

Sam & Travis start quoting from Half-Baked. This is chaos.

Nott does want to stay with the M9, but she also wants to go home for sure, both of those things. The kiss with Caleb wasn’t necessarily a goodbye; it felt like the closing of a chapter. It felt like something to mark the end of the experience.

Now they’re quoting Beverly Hills Cop. Oh, boy.

“You look like you wrote Pitch Perfect.” When did this turn into a roast?

Fjord has no memories earlier than the orphanage (The Driftwood Asylum). There were a couple dozen kids there aside from him; Travis thinks some of them might have been named Stone. It also operated as a small child-labor workshop for carpentry & woodshop stuff. “It was a terrible place all around.” He has no images of parents or being dropped off.

Sam thought the Nott transformation would be more endgame, though he feels it makes sense that it’s not. “While Nott transforming into Veth was my original goal, what’s great about these long games is that your goals can change two or three times before the end. Now I can explore all these other things: does she want to go back and be a housewife? How does she rectify her obligations to her husband and child to the life that she’s made with the M9? It’s so exciting and interesting.”

Brian asks a hypothetical: if she could transform back but lose all Nott’s memories, would she do it? Sam: “Oh, that’s tough. I don’t know.”

Fanart of the Week: a lovely piece by @pen_draws with everyone in the hot tub.

Travis is very trepidatious about returning to the open ocean after rejecting Uk’otoa. He wants to make sure the third temple is sealed. It feels like it would be too easy for someone not to come and try to collect the job he left half-finished. He also wants to go back to Darktow.

Sam doesn’t know if Nott is still in love with Yeza, although she definitely still loves him. He’s playing with the idea of a high school sweetheart being exposed to the world and then going back home. But Yeza’s amazing, a great guy, perfect. “I guess we’ll find out when/if she turns back into Veth.” Sam feels guilty talking about him. “He’s a fictional character and I feel guilty that he might be watching the show.”

Neither Nott nor Fjord trust Essek. Travis: “He just went from being cold and aloof to being really warm. I know there’s been time and he’s lived an isolated life, but...time will show if he’s being genuine. All of our haunches were up. All of us were on level five alert.” He’s being so helpful that Travis doesn’t trust Mercer with him.

Fjord never ever considered becoming a paladin of the Traveler. “No. Fuck no!” The Wildmother reached out and directly intervened to save him. Travis gets super creepy bad vibes from the Traveler’s relationship with Jester (Sam agrees).

Nott feels more pressure when her own problems become the focus. It’s hard for her to open up and talk about her feelings. She’d rather pick up on other people’s problems. Sam also acknowledges it’s more pressure on him (and anyone) as a player when the whole table is looking at you.

And that’s that! Is it Thursday yet?

[thewingedwolf]

Not Telling: A Study in How Much We are Actually Told About The Characters, Part One of Two

AKA that meta I started writing/promised to post fully a year ago and then never finished or posted bc I’m a mess. It’s being posted in two parts because it got a bit long.

So we all have our own idea of what the characters look like although many people believe the characters look roughly the same, with some minor differences from headcanon to headcanon. But what does the text itself tell us? The answer is...both more than I expected but also in keeping with Not Telling, not a whole lot at all.

I want to start this with a caveat that I kept very good notes on TT, ACoK, and TaT, mediocre notes on KoA and passable ones for QoA lol. however, it does give us a decent picture of what everyone looks likes. This is like 70% quotes and 30% extrapolation, but I try to explain my thought process on some of my conclusions.

Eugenides:

There’s a few instances that I remember reading (mostly in The Thief) that I forgot to mark but I know all of those dealt with his height and hair - that his hair is long, that it’s dark, and that he’s smaller than Pol and the Magus. So here we go:

“..the man wearing it was tall. Taller than I was, of course, but taller than the magus as well.” - Note that he’s talking about the one of the gods here, which indicates that

eugenides is very short at this point

the magus when compared to other people is probably pretty tall

“Scabs that were black against my prison-fair skin.” - Indicates that his skin has lightened noticeably since he was in prison although that’s the only indicator we get about what he looks like until literally the very ending with...

“He mentioned an Eddisian mother to explain his dark coloring.” - Which is exactly what I mean in Not Telling - we are told enough to have a clear blue print of him, but we are left to fill in the details of how he looks.

About his wound: “it’s taken a divot out of your face...it might heal clean.” and “I was quite certain I’d have a feather-shaped white scar.” - Note that Eugenides thinks this is a sign of approval from the Eugenides the god.

We get just as little in The Queen of Attolia, although note that this is the first time we are getting Gen from someone else’s point of view, instead of him describing himself:

“...his dark hair covering his face...He’d grown...he was not quite her height, but with his hair cropped short under his helmet, she hadn’t looked twice at him when she had seen him.” - that’s the only real description we get of him in the beginning of QoA before It Happens, and it’s from Irene’s point of view. There’s also several references to him looking “young” “naive” and “guilless” - young pops up about half a dozen times, and she remarks often on him being “a boy” and “half-grown.” Obviously part of that is guilt, but I did want to note that when we’re in Gen’s mind, he doesn’t focus on how short or young he looks, but when we’re in someone else’s mind, they immediately zero in on how young and small Gen is.

There’s a lot of descriptions of him after The Thing but it’s all involved in how sick he looks ie bruises showing against his yellowed skin, being so pale that his scar looked dark against his skin, that he’s lost a lot weight, stuff like that. It gives us the sense that he is very sick but no real indication of how he looks when he’s not suffering from fever and blood loss.

“His dark hair blended into the darkness behind him…” - first physical description in KoA

“The Queen was several inches taller than Eugenides…” in KoA during the dance scene

“His usually dark skin was so pale the scar on his cheek showed against the lighter skin around it.” - during the assassination attempt

“Costis was sufficiently taller than the king…” - I think this is our first reference to Costis being very tall, but of course nowhere near our first reference to Gen being short.

“His face was pale, his normally dark skin yellowed.” - My note has nothing to do with his look, but the fact that his skin is usually dark but is now both pale AND visibly yellow makes me think his liver was damaged by the assassin and that’s why it took so long to heal.

“He chose Mede coats with the long bell sleeves because no fighting man who’d seen the muscles in the king’s wrist would have underestimated him the way the Attolians had. His other wrist with no hand at the end of it appeared oddly narrow and delicate. Costis tried not to stare and found himself looking instead at the king’s scars. The long line across his belly was an angry red, but there were other marks: ragged tears around his knees and elbows, and lighter shining bands around his ankles that could only be the mark of fetters, as well as the various lines left by edged blows on his chest and arms, and one long one on his thigh. There were also a number of bruises, some newly purple and black and some fading almost to nothing. Costis wondered where they could have come from.” - WHEW long description for the first time and its all about Gen’s scars.

“...skinny and prison pale, incongruous with the clean clothes the Magus had picked out for him.” - Sophos’ PoV from AcoK. This seems to imply that Gen is usually darker than he is in the Thief - which we’ve been told before, that he’s darker skinned but stints in prison and a number of serious injuries seem to frequently make him look sickly and pale - but also that he’s usually heavier - whether that means, like Sophos believes, that Gen is normally not as skinny or that he’s gained weight since becoming Attolis is anyone’s guess.

“I kept going until I could see his face, see every detail—the quirk of his eyebrow, the twist at the corner of his mouth, the mark on his cheek, where he’d said the Attolian guards had once shot him when he was running away…” - Kamet’s description of him.

“I remembered him as a boy, small for his age. I found him taller, broader in the shoulder, much older than the intervening years would explain, with a hook where his hand had been—wholly changed, in fact, but for the scar on his face and that smile.” - Gen is finally like a normal height lmao, but also he’s gotten bigger in general, which seems to imply IMO that re: Sophos’ assessment earlier, most of the weight (and likely muscle as Costis points outback in KoA) is the result of his time in Attolia and not weight he lost in jail. But whether THAT is due to him like, eating more potentially or having a different fighting style/routine that is bulking him up, or just a natural consequence of getting older or a combination of the two is again, your guess.

Helen:

“By far the least attractive of the women stood up.”

“She had black hair, like Attolia, and her gown was red velvet...tended to stand like a soldier. The ruffles on her shoulders made her arms seem long enough to reach to her knees. Her nose had been broken and reknitted crooked, her hair was cut short like a man’s and curled so much over her simple silver crown that crown itself was nearly invisible.” - all Gen’s point of view.

“She was short and too broad to be called petite. Her father had been broad shouldered, Attolia remembered, and not over-tall. Eddis had a serious expression.” - From QoA, in Irene’s pov. It seems the shortness of Gen is something that runs in the family.

“She’s ugly...she’s short, she’s broad-shouldered, and hawk-faced with a broken nose. I would say no, she is not ideal...I’ve seen men fall on their knees and get to walk across hot coals for her after one of those smiles.” - Gen talking about her with the Magus. I feel like it’s relevant that Gen calls her “the least attractive” when he’s with her, but only “ugly” when talking about her with other people.

“You look a little vulpine yourself.” - probably more a personality quirk than anything, but I still wanted to include it.

“Eddis reached to touch her own crooked nose. ‘If I laughed,’ she said, ‘it is only at the idea that we make a matched pair now, you and I.’” - for both her and Sophos here. Love flirting in the form of pointing out your irregularities, girl’s got game.

“The queen of Eddis is as beautiful as the day and as brilliant as the sun in the sky..he chuckled and quoted Praximeles about beauty being in the heart and not the eye..” - obviously Sophos’ opinion is colored by his love for her, but STILL, he does offer a description that she’s beautiful, is immediately contradicted by Akretenesh, and then basically thinks “it’s not my fault you’re stupid as fuck.”

Irene:

“Her hair was black and held away from her face by an imitation of the woven gold band of Hephestia. Her robe was draped like a peplos, made from embroidered red velvet. She was as tall as the magus, and she was more beautiful than any woman I had ever seen.” - Gen’s PoV in the Thief. We have a hint of his feelings for her in the way he describes her, and also there’s her Hephestia cosplay as well.

“Her hair was held away from her face by the ruby and gold headband that crossed her forehead just above her dark brows. Her skin was flawless and so fair as to be translucent. She dressed as always in an imitation of Hephestia.” - Gen calling out her Hephestia cosplay lmao. I also notice that she’s specifically not just “fair skinned” like Sophos or other Attolians, she’s described as almost weirdly pale.

Sophos:

I KNOW I forgot to mark a scene where Eugenides describes Sophos in TT as like...fair or pink-cheeked or something like that but I’ll be damned if I can find it.

“They were both obviously well bred...I wondered if they were brothers...the older one had darker hair and was better looking.” - obviously the older is Ambiades.

“One member of the crowd, a young man with a broken nose, a lip twisted by scar tissue, and dirty clothes that combined to suggest a person of violent and criminal habits…” - good description that also tells us that Useless the Younger looks significantly different since we saw him four books (and several years) ago. It’s not just that he’s older, or scarred, it’s that he *looks* dangerous now.

“I was taller than Malatesta by inches.” and “I wasn’t heavier than [Hyacinth] but I was taller and bore him to the ground.” - both give us an approximation of his height, weight, and strength.

“I felt my upper lip and rubbed my thumb against the scar tissue. I could feel it distorting my mouth. My nose had a new bump in the middle of it as well.” - scar healing badly

“Measuring myself against [The Magus], I realized we now saw eye to eye.” - considering several references to how tall The Magus is (which we’ll get to), this means Sophos is incredibly tall.

“...my hair all cut away and ragged.” and then they mention they dyed it. Once they get to Attolia however, “A barber came in to trim and shave us, taking off the last of my darker hair and leaving it tidy, if short.” So it’s gone back to his natural color, but this implies he usually wears his hair long.

There’s also a mention of him eating a lot, which isn’t a physical description, but does, IMO, imply something to his size - like how many sheer calories a lot of Olympic athletes have to eat a day.

“I smiled until I felt the scar tissue tighten...I had never let him see what I looked like when I smiled: my uncle.” - ICONIC.

ALSO - Sophos is frequently compared to animals. These animals include a lamb, lion, rabbit, bunny, puppy, and then back to lion.

Costis Ormentiedes:

I couldn’t find any description of him beyond a few references to him being tall in KoA which either means that I just missed it bc I got to emotional over KoA (which is likely) OR we don’t get a real description of Costis until TaT which is an interesting choice. ONWARDS:

“He was a very large Attolian…” - Kamet’s first impression of Costis, yet again reminding us how big Costis is

“He was a typical Attolian: sandy-brown hair, a broad face, light-colored eyes. Altogether he had a simple, straightforward look to him, and he seemed perfectly serious.” - gives us a general idea of what Attolians as a people look like.

“He was large, as I already knew, and a soldier. He had the scars on his hands and forearms and the unmistakable muscles from swinging a sword day in and day out. I had no doubt he was good at what he did - he rather reminded me of an ox, very strong, not terribly quick - but I thought killing was his work, not his pleasure….he moved easily, so he was no veteran crippled’s in his country’s service, but he was too young to have done his twenty years - my own age, or perhaps younger.” - Lots of information here from Kamet. The ones that stick out to me are: moves easily, which means Costis has likely not even been minorly injured before, but he has scars, which of course means he’s had a lot of flesh wounds. The other thing is that Kamet instinctively knows that Costis doesn’t like killing - I don’t know if that means Kamet is a good judge of character or if there’s something about Costis, whether it be the way he carries himself, or something physically like his expressions, his youth, his eyes, that tells Kamet this, but it *could* be something physical.

Kamet makes several references to Costis being hot lmao. He uses the word “attractive” several times in several different chapters and others agree with this assessment.

“She sent him to the potter to see if he could use a young man with a strong back.” - more comments about how ripped Costis is.

Kamet

Couldn’t find any description of Kamet in QoA, and he doesn’t really describe himself in TaT. I’m worried I missed something, but this is what I found:

“Normally as warm-toned as myself…” - Kamet comparing his own skin tone (undertone?) to Laela’s.

He also describes himself as small and skinny compared to Costis several times - once saying his face is roughly at level with Costis’ chest - and mentions flogging scars on his back.

EDIT: THANK YOU FOR COMMENTS, we get this like in QoA about Kamet: “The slave’s almond shaped eyes and red-brown complexion set him apart from the Attolians.”

—————

Not sure how to end this but anyway that’s what we’re given for the main PoVs. Surprisingly, we get more description for Helen than we do for Irene, and barely any for Kamet. There were some things that I had misremembered - I thought Gen was described as “brown skinned” but instead it’s “dark skinned” or “dark coloring” and I thought he described Helen as ugly more than once, but it’s just to the Magus, when they’re discussing Sounis’ potential marriage, which is....interesting to me, and sounds a lot more like Gen trying to downplay his cousin so the Magus will fuck off, especially when he offers Agape as an alternative that is, notably, prettier and also holds significantly less power. I also thought Costis was described as “blonde” or “fair haired” like Sophos but instead he’s “sandy brown” and I think the idea of him being Blonde was a fandom thing that I just misremembered.

[ask-de-writer]

KURIN’S FOLLY : World of Sea : Part 12 of 15

KURIN’S FOLLY

Part 12

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

23,699 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

writing begun  2006

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  Part 1 is here

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The apprentices sullenly brought tools up and stood while they were told off in pairs to assist the contestants.  The journeymen were watching angrily.  They kept heckling the contestants.  That only stopped when Yoram was caught surreptitiously taking a rocker knife that a contestant needed.  He was caught in the act by the Captain.

Removed to the after deck, the journeyman was given five lashes for attempted theft.  The other journeymen were required to watch. After that, they were a subdued lot.

The building of the boats took up the next several days.  Kurin left the supervision of the contest to the Craft Council to be sure that nobody could say that it was conducted unfairly.  She spent the days in her shop with her apprentices, printing envelopes and instruction leaflets.  Parts for toy kits and models were being produced by etching.

The sheets of glued parchment or thin Strong Skin were screen printed with the mess cleaner paste from the galley.  When they were dipped into the thinned activator in the vats, the combination ate through the material at the lines and freed the parts.  The finished parts were removed with tongs and rinsed to stop the action of the etch.

A sheet of thick Strong Skin, etched with words and drawings was being inked, wiped, covered by parchment and run through a pair of rollers to print instruction leaflets.  The same technique was being used to make the printed and illustrated envelopes that held the kits.

Lissa looked at the processes in something like awe.  She took Kurin aside and asked, “How many copies will that etched Strong Skin slab make before it wears out?”

Kurin shrugged and said, “I don’t know, maybe a few thousand.  I’ve been using the one I made for the simple dory instruction set since I was eight.  It’s still good.  Why?”

Lissa grimaced and replied, “The Scribe’s Guild would kill for that printing process.  The best one that they have now is a soft glue hectograph.  It is only good for about seventy five copies before a new master has to be made.

“I was a Scribe before I married your father.  The Longin didn’t need another Scribe. That’s why I fixed things.”

Just then there was a tapping at the door.  It was Juris.  He his shoulders sagged and his eyes were bagged from lack of sleep.  Contritely he asked, “Kurin, will you come out and talk with me?  I need to know how you are going to save me from this mess.  I know that I’ve gone too far.”

Lissa laid a hand firmly on Kurin’s shoulder and said, “You are harassing my daughter.  In the last week, I have learned all about this foolishness of yours.  I experienced some of it.  The short of it is simple.  Kurin wanted to save you.  In fact, Kurin did save you.  You rejected her help so thoroughly that now Kurin can’t save you again.  You have finished yourself.”  She looked down at Kurin fondly and gave her a small hug.

“The Dragons do know that she has tried every way that she knows.  Kurin’s already appealed to the Great Sea Dragons.  They won’t interfere.  You have successfully blocked her at every turn.

“I was there when she asked the whales if they would help you as they once helped Jenn the Whale’s Friend.  They replied that they don’t like you enough to do more than celebrate your life.  They have promised to do that.”

Juris looked at Lissa incredulously.  Drawing on his vast store of arrogance, he drew himself up and said, “You’re still mad.  Whales don’t talk.”

Smiling like someone who actually knows what she is saying, Lissa agreed, “Not in words, no.  You are correct.  The Orca’s vocal equipment can’t reproduce our vocal range.  When Kurin talks to them, they use their echolocation clicks to make something like drum talk.  They understand us just fine. Understanding them is the challenge.  They click about four or five time as swiftly as the fastest drum beats that we are used to.  The way that Kurin likes to put it is, you have to listen fast.”

About them, Kurin's other apprentices were sill busily preparing kits.  Luin was busy at a set of molds, pressing the parts for Kurin’s toy fish, birds and dolls out of specially prepared soft glue filled with fine strong Skin shavings and scraping dust.

Kurin leaned against her mother, absorbing the simple pleasure of contact while she thought.  Raising her eyes to meet Juris’ She said, “There is one last possibility. I can’t do it for you.  In fact, nobody else on this ship or the Grandalor can do it for you.  The first step you need to do in person.  At the next Combined Council meeting of this ship you must request a reconsideration of your sanity declaration.  You must have a finding of insanity.  

“Our Council’s finding will open the way for a plea of clemency before the Captain’s Council. You will also need to get a neutral advocate to present the case.”

Curious but still truculent, Juris demanded, “Why can’t you do it for me?  You represented Barad.”

Kurin shook herself a little and pulled free of Lissa’s gentle hold.  She sat at her design table and turned to face Juris before replying simply, “Barad was innocent.  Both others and he himself proved it to me. You did slander me, my ship, and my Master.  Besides reports, I have heard you do so with my own ears.  By that reckless talk, you have endangered this ship’s existence.  Because of those facts, none of us can legally represent you before the Captain’s Council.  All that we can do is be witnesses for you and state that we are willing to stand for your care until you are recovered.

“High Cloud will carry your request for representation and other information to whoever you wish.  That is the best that I can do.  I have to warn you, that it may not work.  It will all depend on the Captain’s Council.”

Brows furrowed right up onto his bald pate, Juris asked, “Why wouldn’t it work?”

Kurin leaned back in her work chair, and looked straight into his eyes as she replied, “Because you have already made a declaration of sanity.  We can accept your change of declaration but your first statement remains a matter of record.  If the Captain’s Council sees your change as a self serving attempt to avoid a just penalty under the law, they will still sentence you to death.”

Juris had actually listened to all of what he was told.  He stroked his jaw as he thought through what Kurin had told him.  He had to struggle a little with himself to say it but he did manage.  “Thank you, Kurin.  I really had no idea how bad the situation was.  I wish that I had listened earlier.”

Luin looked up from her molding task and said with a surprising degree of sympathy, “You won’t believe me but we wish that too.”

**************

Five new catamarans sat on the foredeck.  Kurin was examining them critically.  They all appeared to be at least acceptable.  Careful sighting of their lines showed minor differences and some trivial errors.  The boats with easily visible errors were eliminated immediately.  That left only two.

A large crowd had gathered to watch the judging.  The jealous journeymen were in the forefront making scathing remarks.  Kurin ignored them and crawled into the hulls, examining the interior seams and joints.  She even tried the bunks, checked the food and equipment lockers and examined all of the fittings.

Finally, Kurin chose the winner and stood on its deck to announce, “Conner, you are now in charge of the boat shop.  Congratulations!”  The journeymen were spectacularly silent.

To everyone’s surprise, Juris stepped forward and put out his hand.  As he shook Conner’s hand, he said, “You did a very credible job on this boat.  Guide my shop’s journeymen in their work and be guided by them in matters of craftsmanship.”  He glanced piercingly at the journeymen before adding, “That should allow the shop to serve as well as it can.  I wish you well.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>

[dreamsinthefoxhollow]

Vortex

I'm in a college class of maybe 15 students in total. We are all dressed pretty casual and on friendly terms all around.

We have an assignment coming up. It's a themed period event, though everyone calls it a cosplay deal. Everyone has different ideas about how we should be creating things for it.

Somehow we all end up in a 1950's style rocketship. It's not going very well as something had gone horribly wrong during liftoff, and now we are floating about in space with a damaged rocket. We even went out for a look and parts of the engines were badly beat up, dented, torn, and generally trashed. Even though we are in space, the ship seems to be moving along a large, smooth tunnel

The tunnel is the instructor's idea.

Everyone is still muddling through ideas, but we finally settle on what we are going to do for the cosplay deal. We are going with older history! I am elated because I have some old flintlock-styled guns I can bring in to help get things looking good. I remark that my character for the event had used them once on a stage play, so they could work without being exactly what would have been around at the time. But my ideas are dashed when I am told the older history was in the 1500's. My guns won't fit into that scenario.

We head outside and get into a van that's parked by the building. We get a weather alert as we get in, and we notice the sky is pretty dark, with dark clouds overhead. There are more alerts, suddenly. A tornado warning. It's not just for us in our area, but alerts for everywhere, one after another. Everyone piles into the van in a rush of bodies. The college classroom building is on a very narrow street among rows of houses, and we drive uphill to get away from the school. We crest a hill in the suburbs and see dozens of dark tornado spouts all over the city, tearing everything up in all directions. We drive further, trying to reach a shelter that's farther up some hills and winding streets.

The way is blocked by a landslide, and we try to drive through it in desperation. Instead, we get stuck. More muddy debris slides up against the left side of the van. We all get out and try pushing the van out of the mud and grass and branches, even using the jacks and assorted pieces of debris as levers. It actually works and we free the van. Everyone crawls back into the van, but just as we get the door closed a funnel drops into the street right in front of us, tearing up the houses and pavement. There is panic and screaming as the funnel whips right onto the van, and everyone is tumbling all around. I catch a glimpse out a window. The van has been lifted and is hundreds of feet over the ground, tossed like a piece of garbage. And now we are falling feely. I know what's coming. I cling desperately to the floorboard and to a seat leg as everyone is screaming.

We are all going to die.

I become aware that I am not dead, but I am hurting all over. The van is shredded and scattered all around. I see a body crumpled up nearby, dead. But that's the only casualty. Everyone else is up and meandering about in a daze. The nearby houses are destroyed, most missing walls and roofs. I find my cell phone and call mother, if nothing else but to let her know I am alive. Before I can finish dialing the number, someone interrupts me.

It's a man in a suit and tie carrying a briefcase and holding some papers. I get a feeling he's some insurance claim adjuster or maybe a lawyer. He is poking at me to get a signature from the dead student. I lose it and tell him off in very colorful, screaming, ranting language.

I notice the funnel clouds are still nearby, but we are so high up that I am looking down at them from above. They are moving away from us and tearing up more homes in the valley nearby. It is terrible to watch.

I leave everyone and wander away. I need to find my way out of there, or home, or something. I am still dazed and confused. I believe my Jeep was someplace nearby. I was inside it. The wind knocked it over. Yes. That's what happened. I am looking for a black Jeep TJ with four doors in the debris on the sides of the street. I actually find it. It's badly dented and the windshield is smashed, but it's on the wheels. It even starts when I get in! I drive it onto a bare spot on the street. Someone is nearby and calls out to me. They are asking me I found the treasure, or some mail, they had hidden. They start to walk up the street, stepping over debris. I start driving behind them slowly, following them.

[aceprosecuties]

So, anon who was super kind and donated money for my dog’s bladder surgery requested a fun and humorous Simon and Athena friendship piece!  I hope you like it and thank you again so much! <3  Approx. 1400 words

Ah, what a lovely night this was.  A clear night sky, crisp chilly air…cold enough for Athena to snuggle warm under her blankets, happy that she could finally get to sleep somewhat early for a change.  She had just finished working on an intense case with several practically-sleepless nights; Mr. Wright had been running her harder than ever due to Apollo’s absence.  Sure, she welcomed the additional responsibility – it made her feel less like a novice and more like the full-fledged lawyer she knew she was, but the lack of sleep had caught up to her.  She hadn’t even had enough time in the mornings to go on her usual daily runs!

So yes, it was nice to be going to bed a little after nine rather than at three or four in the morning.  

Soft pillows, comfortable mattress, warm blankets…it was so easy to drift off to sleep…

“Athena.”

No, no it couldn’t possibly be morning yet.  She had to have been dreaming.  A grumbled and annoyed moan left her lips as she turned onto her other side, clutching her blankets tight against her body.  

“Athena!”

“Hmm, no-” Her protest was weak due to her sleepiness, and she let go of her blanket to swat at whoever was trying to interrupt her well-deserved rest.  

Unfortunately, that immediately proved to be a mistake.

The blanket was almost violently yanked off her, leaving her exposed to the colder air of the room.  She was in only a loose t-shirt and shorts, so her skin immediately prickled into goosebumps.  Clearly unhappy, she whined and opened one of her eyes; when her vision finally focused, she saw Simon fucking Blackquill standing over her, fully dressed like he was going somewhere.  Outside it was still very clearly dark.

“Simon?  What…what time is it?  Give me back my blanket,” she grumbled, though when she lazily reached for it, he threw it behind him so that it fell into a messy pile in the corner of the room. Athena felt an overwhelming urge to throw him, but Simon was more than skilled (and awake) enough to prevent any attack.  

“Almost midnight, so we’re already late,” he said, more serious than usual.  His tone had her suddenly concerned and she slowly lifted herself into a semi-sitting position.  Athena wiped at her eyes, trying to will the exhausted itchiness away.  She yawned and stretched, hair messily falling a bit into her eyes.  

“Late?  For what? What’s wrong?”  

“Athena is your mind always so dull in the morning?” Simon smirked when she stuck her tongue out at him.  

“It’s not morning, Simon!”

“Close enough,” he replied, pointing at the clock. She didn’t even bother looking at it, knowing he was just being an ass; midnight might mark “am” time, but it certainly was not morning.  

“Listen, just because you don’t go to sleep until after three doesn’t mean us normal people need to also.”

“The fact that you consider yourself ‘normal’ is hilarious,” Simon retaliated, earning him another stuck-out tongue. “Now, we’ve wasted enough time. Get dressed.”

“No, Simon, what is going on?”  Athena’s complaint was exasperated and tired, as she allowed herself to flop back into her pillow.  Though it wasn’t the same without her blankets…she looked over at them sadly. Maybe she could will them to just float right over to her…

“You promised you would accompany me,” Simon said, crossing his arms, annoyed that he was having this conversation.  “It’s one per person, so I can’t go alone to get both of ours.  We established this the other day.”

“Accompany you where?”  All Athena could remember from the last few days were case files and evidence and witness profiles and memories of court.  She knew she had several chats with Simon here and there – less than normal since their schedules had not synced up for once – but she couldn’t recall at all promising him something.

“Honestly Athena,” Simon said, smirking.  “If this is how you are after a few days of actual work from Wright-dono, I cannot imagine how you would be trying to function working for Edgeworth-dono.  You wouldn’t last two days.”

“I would take that as a challenge if I was not so damn tired right now,” Athena said, bristling from both the chill in the air and from annoyance.  She could not deny that Simon had more work than she did – Mr. Wright was famously picky about the cases that he chose to take, while prosecutors did not have the same luxury – but he was being aggravating nonetheless.  Which was probably what he was aiming for, especially considering that even that small amount of anger-induced adrenaline had her feeling just the tiniest bit more awake than ten seconds ago.

Damn him.

“Fine, if it will stop your whining, we’ll stop and get coffee on the way.”

At this point, Athena figured she should just shove a handful of the beans directly into her mouth and then pour some hot water in…would that make the caffeine hit sooner?  Since Simon was hellbent on not leaving her alone, she stretched and sat up again, swinging her legs around so they hung off the side of her bed.  

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” she said, taking a moment to rub her eyes and yawn.  It was uncanny how she could practically feel Simon’s eyeroll.  

“Comic-con tickets.  We need to get in line.  They go on sale tomorrow at nine.”

She blinked up at him.  

“…What?”

“Athena, I have been chained up in prison for seven years.  That is seven Comic-cons I have been unable to attend. I will not be absent this year.”  His serious (and scary to anyone who was not Athena, really) expression told Athena that he was not at all being facetious.  “And you promised you wanted to join me, which you will only be able to do if you get up right now and get in line for tickets.  You’re not going to back down on that promise now, are you?”

Honestly, going did sound fun at the time, but it was criminal how close Athena was to breaking that promise with a thrown pillow and a middle finger and flopping back down into her bed.  She hadn’t realized entirely just how early Simon would want to line up, either.  They seriously were going to wait in line on the street for nine hours?  Unfortunately, Simon was that oh-so loving and gentle type of friend who would flip her mattress completely over to get her out of it.

It would be a battle of wills.  And one she would not win, given her exhaustion and Simon’s stubbornness and determination.

She reached over to her nightstand to grab a hair tie, pulling her messy hair up into a ponytail without bothering to brush it. It would take too long and she was in no mood to fight the inevitable knots that formed during her almost three hours of sleep.  

“You should wear your prosecuting outfit,” she lazily remarked, noting that Simon was wearing just black jeans and a black sweatshirt now that her brain was better able to process the information her eyes were seeing.  “People will think you’re cosplaying and the dedication might win you sympathy points.”

“First of all, there is no such thing as sympathy points in obtaining Comic-con tickets, Athena.  This is a war where there are no rules and the only thing that matters is victory.”  Honestly, his flare for the dramatic was ridiculous, but Athena enjoyed it strangely enough (not that she would admit it to him).  “Secondly,” he smirked.  “That’s rich, coming from someone who dresses like an egg yolk.  If you dressed like how you do in court, people would inevitably tell you how much they enjoy your version of Gudetama.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Athena said, before pulling some clothes out of her drawer. Simon took that as the sign that he ought to leave the room so she could get dressed.  

“No, you don’t,” he said, his lips forming a victorious and cocky smile.  

Knowing deep down that he was right, she stuck her middle finger up at him and heard him laugh before shutting the door.  

“You’re paying for coffee, by the way!  And you better let me nap on your shoulder!”

[thecrazyanimegirl]

Heyo! Could I request a scenario where lan jingyi, lan sizhui, Jin ling, and mo xuanyu(wei Wuxian) wake up in the modern world (specifically the reader’s house) and they can’t find a way back so they stay with her and they start having a crush on her ?? (Maybe a little blushy bc they see the reader in shorts and that’s never happened in ancient China lmao) sorry if this is confirmed but tysm 💕💕

We didn’t even notice how long this got lol

Istretched on the couch, my back crackling pleasantly as I changed position andcontinued reading my book. It’s so nice when it’s peaceful and warm like this.

I turnedanother page when I heard a rumble. I looked towards the sound immediately. Itwas coming from the room next door.

“Are youokay?” I heard a soft voice.

“I will bewhen you get off me”, second voice said and then there is a crash.

Did theybreak something?

“Where arewe?” another voice asked.

“I don’tknow, let’s explore”, a cheerful voice answered.

Instantlysitting up I could feel my heart staring to beat violently. Who’s in my house?I turned around panicking, looking for my phone to call the cops.

The soundof several footprints and voices started coming my way. And my only escaperoute was right through that door.

Four menbarged in, all dressed in ridiculous clothing. Large swords hung on their hips. What’s with the weird costumes? Thefirst one, dressed in red and black clothing and was grinning widely, noticedme first.

And I alsonoticed something. My phone.

I sigh.

It’s onthe cabinet behind his back.

I’mfucked.

I’m goingto be murdered by a four cosplaying lunatics.

Wait, that sounds so wrong. And how did they get in myhouse because I am sure they didn’t use the front door.

“Who areyou?” I ask, going on the offensive.

“I’msorry, miss. We didn’t mean to scare you, we don’t really know what is goingon”, one of the men in white practically bows, but is still looking away fromme.

Now when Ilook better, they are all looking away. The cheerful one was grinning. “Sorryfor the intrusion, my lady”, he winked, taking a part of his robe of andhanding it too me. “If you wish to cover yourself.”

Covermyself? I’m fully clothed!

“It is distracting”,the man in yellow shook his head and his long hair swayed. They all have suchlong hair. And it doesn’t seem like a wig.

“Whatcentury did you come from?” I huff, meaning it as a joke, a sarcastic remarkthat is about to blow back in my face. I mean, you don’t see people lookinglike them everyday. Especially not in your house.

One of themen in white told me what year it is. What year it is to them. Is this somekind of aggressive roleplaying?

“What?” Ilooked at him skeptically, actually getting a bit mad.

“Well, itwas the last time I checked. Now dress yourself, please”, he begged.

I threwthe robe around me and the cheerful one spoke again: “Don’t give him that deathstare. We got on the wrong foot, haven’t we? Let us introduce ourselves! I’m MoXuanyu.”

“I’m LanJingyi. Nice to meet you”, the one who asked me to dress myself was finallyable to look my way.

“I’m LanSizhui”, the other white one gave me the warmest smile I have ever seen. Thenhe jabbed the yellow one in the ribs, making him talk. “Jin Ling”, he hissed.

I givethem my name and only then I realize that I might have been stupid for doingthat.

“Whatexactly is going on?” I try to stay calm.

“We kindof don’t know either”, Lan Jingyi scratches the back of their head nervously.

“What?”Are they joking with me?

“Well,this doesn’t seem like our world”, it’s Mo Xuanyu who turns around his heel,looking around.

Our world?

“No, thisis my world and my house. So explainyourself!”

They allstare at each other for a while, everyone mostly afraid of me it seems. Butthen just when I decide to speak again, Mo Xuanyu cuts me off. “As much as Ican see, we are not from this world, or not this time”, he pokes the plasticplant on my cabinet, weirded out by its texture. “And I sense no energy fromyou”, he looks at me, still smiling. “Not that you would believe me thateasily, huh?”

What. The.Hell.

“Seriously?”I look at him angry.

Instead ofanswering he draws his sword and throws it in the air.

“What areyou…?” I don’t finish when I see the sword floating in the air.

I sit onmy sofa, too shocked to stand.

Am Idreaming?

“Tell memore.”

…………….

And that’show I ended up living with four gorgeous idiots. I sipped my coffee, watchingthem. It was still hot as hell, but I had a long dress on with a sweater overit. They couldn’t even look at me otherwise.

“Whathappens now?” Lan Sizhui stood in the kitchen.

“You’llsee, just wait”, I waved my hand. Loud noises from the living room annoyed me.“Mo Xuanyu, stop changing tv channels and come get breakfast!”

“Coming!What’s there to eat?” He looked ecstatic as he ran into the kitchen. Modern dayclothes really looked good on him. Even though I spent almost all my money ongetting them dressed, it was worth it.

“Eggfs andbeffon”, Lan Jingyi was stuffing his face. I guess he liked the food at least.

“Theremight not be enough sugar”, Mo Xuanyu laughed his ass off when he saw Jin Lingon the other side of the counter, putting cube after cube of sugar in hiscoffee.

“Why don’tI just make you tea next time?” I offered even though I knew he would refuse.My tea tasted terrible apparently. Next thing I’m going to need to buy isproper tea making set.

A popfollowed by a scream came from behind my back. Lan Sizhui clung onto me.“That’s how a toaster works. See”, I gave him his bread and he seems a littleless scared now.

I’mactually really enjoying living with them. They are admiring and looking in aweeverything I show them. It is really cute. Not to mention they are all reallyhot.

“No fair!”Mo Xuanyu looks like he is pouting, then he launches himself on me and Lan Sizhui,pulling us both in a hug. “You can’t be the only one who hugs her”, he stickshis tongue out playfully.  

I feelblood surging to my face. “Get off, you’ll make me spill my coffee”, I try tokeep a cool head. Needless to say, it’s useless, because Mo Xuanyu is still notletting me go. On the contrary, he placed both hands around my shoulders.

“Youremind me of a cat”, I sigh in defeat. I’ll just have to somehow manage untilhe lets go.

Others arelooking at him funny, almost like they are glaring. Don’t tell me they aresnugglers to? I’m only one, they should all snuggle together.

“You aremaking her uncomfortable”, it was Lan Jingyi who first said it. “You should lether go.”

“You’rejust saying that so you could hug her”, Mo Xuanyu rebelled and held me tighter,Lan Sizhui now backing away a little.

I sigh andhead chopped Mo Xuanyu. That makes him cry out and let me go.

“Youdeserved it”, Jin Ling huffed.

Lan Jingyichuckles while Lan Sizhui just smiles.

I findmyself watching them with fondness. I haven’t known them for a long time, butthese few days were enough for me to grow somewhat attached to them.

“It is myday off today so is there somewhere you want to go?” I ask smiling at them.

“Amusementpark!” Lan Jingyi exclaimed.

“Zoo”, JinLing shrugged like he didn’t care, but I can see he really wants to go.

“I want tosee a museum”, Lan Sizhui said shyly.

“I want tosee a movie in cinema!” Mo Xuanyu expressed his wish.

They areall so different. How should I decide this?

I guess Ihave no choice. “We should hurry then if we want to see it all”, I sighed, butstill smiled at them.

“It’s adate!” Mo happily clapped his hands.

“A date?”They all looked at him in shock.

I decideto call his joke, but before I could the rest respond.

“Thatsounds great!” Lan Jingyi smiles.

“You watchtoo much television”, Jin Ling deadpans, but then adds quietly. “Not that Iwould mind if it is date.”

Lan Sizhuilooks troubled, like he is in conflict with himself. “I guess it would be nice…but don’t bother her, remember she is taking care of us here.”

“I said itwas a date first! You children should just stay out of it”, Mo tells them, buthe looks somewhat amused and grins when he sees their face.

“Notfair!” The rest shout in union.

It is never boring withthem, I laugh watching thembicker.

[propstoyou]

Check out these guns

So, I’m going to preface this post by saying how much I utterly loathe guns. I honestly hate them. BUT, that said, it would be weird to have the Lady Blackhawk cosplay without them. So now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s move on to my first ever time making gun props, ever.

Here are the guns:

Before I even got started, I had to figure out wtf kind of guns I was even making. I know literally nothing about guns, beyond the fact that those are probably some kind of handgun. When I was a child, my parents were so averse to all things gun, that we used water elephants. No, seriously. So I asked someone who was bound to know better than I was: my roommate. The one in the military (thank you, Kayla. You’re the best.). Though apparently it was thanks to her dad that she actually knows. 

Anyway. I digress.

She told me that they looked like something along the lines of Beretta m9 handguns. After looking at pictures, I was inclined to agree with her, so I set out to find some sort of template for foam handguns. Remarkably, I sort of found one that I only had to adapt slightly. I consider that a win.

Most people who cosplay will know that foam is a cosplayers best friend. C2E2 also has some pretty strict rules about what materials they do and do not allow in, so I couldn’t carve it out of wood, or have any kind of moving parts, or anything like that. So, foam it is.

In order to prepare for anything, I got two types of foam, figuring that I would use them both eventually. So to show this photo again:

That there is foam core board, like you use for children’s presentations in school, and insulation foam, which is what I make most things out of (like the axe bass). After careful consideration, I decided that the best thing to do would be to layer various layers of foam core board on top of each other, to make the guns. With gorilla glue in between, because always gorilla glue. Plus, it’s sand-able.

I painstakingly cut out each part out of paper, and glued them onto a piece of foam core board. I did this FOUR times, because each template made one half of a gun that I then had to glue together in the middle to make each gun. That’s a lot of slicing. And a lot of xacto-ing. But in the end, I came away with my first gun:

The front...

...aaaand the layers. Each of the guns is made up of six layers of foam. After making the first gun, I repeated the process: 

Woohoo! Guns! I sanded them down somewhat, though in the future, I would have done it more. Ah, well. Learn from experience? Anyway. I painted it with mod podge, to protect and insulate the foam. But here’s where it gets tricky.

Normally, in order to get a nice, even coat, I would use spray paint. But spray paint eats away at foam. I could use spray sealant, but honestly, I wouldn’t trust it to get into each teeny tiny little crevice. So instead, I opted to just use matte black paint, paint it on with a sponge brush (fewer brush-strokes), and sand it between layers.

I would have preferred spray paint, and next time, I might try to get a water based kind, but this is pretty good for a first effort.

Next, I wanted to dry-brush, to make them look kind of worn and to give them more depth. For that I used a super, super dry bristle brush, and silver metallic paint.

The next matter was the most pressing of all. C2E2, as most cons do, requires all prop guns to have an orange tip. That was really throwing me for a loop. I was worried that orange paint, or tape, wouldn’t cut it. So I had initially planned on stealing one from a cheap toy gun at Target, when my wife suggested just using the tips of nerf darts. THANK YOU. They worked perfectly. One nice water-based clear coat later, and they are basically finished!

With the dry-brushing, and one of the orange tips. Not bad for a first effort. Hopefully she looks bad-ASS.

[chilly-territory]

K ~ Four Seasons of K: Koinobori

The fourth story from the 4 seasons of K series. The Green clan’s turn to have a story. The original Japanese text is kindly provided by blueseraphima.

Koinobori[*] by Suzuki Suzu

"Come to think of it, Children's Day is coming soon, is it not."

The moment Hisui Nagare made this remark, everyone's chopsticks froze mid-motion.

At the time, Gojou Sukuna, picking his avocado salad, thought to himself, 'Here Nagare goes again, saying weird things.'

'Here Nagare-chan goes again with his weird remarks,' Mishakuji Yukari thought to himself at the same time, taking a bowl with miso soup.

Iwafune Tenkei wasn't an exception, thinking to himself as he gazed at pure white rice, 'That Nagare sure loves him some weird stuff'.

Only Kotosaka, pecking at fried chicken, thought at the time, 'Yummy!'

After a momentary silence, time started flowing again. Their tableware producing quiet clicking, each of the Jungle clansmen made an attempt to change the subject.

"By the way, Yukari, how did your latest mission go?" "Ah, monitoring Scepter 4's movements, you mean? It was too much of a hassle, so I threw it Douhan-chan's way." "Again? That's all you do lately!" "You're the one to talk, Iwa-san. Don't create a mission like 'We're out of toilet paper, so go buy us some' and set 1000 Jungle points for its completion like you did the other day!" "Well, it couldn't be helped, I had an emergency." "Oh right, thanks to that we can forget about toilet paper trouble for the next year or so though."

Listening to this exchange that sounded more like a family banter than a discussion between clansmen, Hisui ate his avocado salad, sipped his miso soup, and after finishing his rice and fried chicken, spoke up. "Come to think of it, Children's Day is coming soon, is it not."

Time came to a standstill yet again.

There were 2 patterns when Hisui Nagare brought up weird topics. The first one was when something weird suddenly occurred to him and he immediately voiced it. In this case, given a little time, he would let go of the subject like nothing happened more often than not. It was the second pattern that presented a problem - when Hisui tried to put into action something weird that he had thought up in advance.

The will of the Green King, Hisui Nagare, was iron. After all, he was a man who didn't shy away from doing something as reckless as challenging the strongest king, the Gold King, all alone for the sake of his ambition. You could ignore once what Hisui Nagare said, but if he bothered to repeat himself, trying to stop him was futile - this truth was fast becoming common knowledge among the Jungle leaders.

"...Indeed. In the world up above the Golden Week is about to begin, I suppose." The first to reply was Yukari. If there was no avoiding it, then he chose to dive into it head-first, fueling further discussion on the subject. "But well, it should be a rather distant topic for us, or what, did something happen? A random guess: do you want us to go on a trip somewhere all together or something?"

Sukuna and Iwafune started chiming in, too, probably getting the clue.

"A trip? Like last year when we went to the crater?" "In that case, we gotta make appropriate preparations. But what made you bring up such a topic all of a sudden, Nagare?"

Hisui, gazing at his clansmen, slowly shook his head. "No, I have no interest in a Golden Week trip. What I want is to celebrate Children's Day."

Yukari and Sukuna exchanged glances, talking to each other with their eyes only.

'Do you get what he means?' 'No, he totally lost me.'

Hisui spoke up, although it was unclear if he did it because he sensed his clansmen's confusion or not, "There was something that I have been pondering ever since Sukuna joined Jungle. To be exact, the premise is that since we have a child among our members, we have to celebrate Children's Day." "Hey, don't gimme that kid treatment!" "For that reason, I was preparing for it since last year. I researched the origin of Children's Day, screened customs and events associated with it, stocked up on the necessary materials..." "Listen to what I said!"

Completely ignoring Sukuna's burning anger, Hisui continued with a distant look, "I would like to celebrate it not only for Sukuna's sake, but for my own as well. In hindsight, I hardly ever had a chance to enjoy Children's day, you see. So I thought it would not hurt to make use of this opportunity and try. So I request we put it into practice." "Ugh," Iwafune groaned like he was stabbed in a weak point. Blank stare fixed upon the top of the tea table, he started muttering under his breath, "...Figures. To avoid Timeless Palace's pursuit, we couldn't do anything conspicuous..." "So long as we are staying here, at our secret base, there is no need to worry about that kind of public attention. We can celebrate to our heart's content. Since we have both the place and the occasion at our disposal, there is no reason not to." "Nagare, you, you're willing to go to such lengths..." By the time he wiped his eyes roughly, Iwafune already had an expression on his face like he had weathered the wave of emotional something. Clenching his hand into a fist, with the chopsticks still gripped in it, he thumped himself on the chest. "If that's the case, then we just have to celebrate! If there's something I can do to help, just tell me, no need to be shy!" "Understood. I will certainly appreciate your help on the matter, Iwa-san."

Faced with the two kings who came to a mutual understanding, Yukari and Sukuna could only exchange looks yet again and breathe out sorrowful sighs.

*

The secret base was a spacial long-abandoned underground water reservoir that Hisui illegally took over and remodeled. With the exception of the area where the Jungle leaders lived, it was an unduly wide empty space, sprawling far and wide. Colossal pillars standing tall at fixed intervals in the endless dark brought the image of an ancient temple to mind.

Walking between those pillars, Sukuna voiced one simple question, "By the way, is Children's Day something you're supposed to celebrate? Isn't it just another day off?" "Oh? I suppose it isn't celebrated as wide anymore for your generation, Sukuna-chan. Traditionally though, you were supposed to fly the carp-shaped koinobori flags and decorate special dolls on that day." "Originally, it was called Boys' Day. It originated in China and included a custom of decorating the gates with irises and cleansing the evil, which essentially represented the warring spirit - that is, it bore the meaning of honoring the art of war, and in the samurai society of Japan, it became a day to celebrate boys' growth and health. These are the roots of this marked day that later became modern Children's Day." "It sure brings back memories. In the past, kids would cosplay as warriors, armor and all, on that day. Hear this, Sukuna?" "I ain't doing that. Just. No. Way." Turning Iwafune down, Sukuna even shook his head pointedly from how much the idea evoked rejection in him. He also griped tighter the long stick that could become a scythe at any moment if he so wanted, his battle readiness eloquently showing that no amount of coercion would make him yield even an inch in this matter.

"Nowadays, the only celebratory practices remaining are carp flags and bathwater with iris petals. I considered doing armored warrior cosplay, but after taking into account the time and effort it would take to complete material selection, organize the manufacturing process and convince Sukuna to put it on, among other things, I had to perish the thought. Regrettably." "So you were planning to force me, huh..."

They threw comments in the same vein back and forth as they walked, until Hisui, who was leading the procession, stopped in his tracks - or more accurately, stopped his wheelchair.

"Whoa, that's..." "When did you..."

The clansmen couldn't help half-shocked, half-impressed noises that escaped them.

The object those utterings were about was a giant pole. Towering on a foundation so sturdy that it probably could only be made on the spot, it had a presence about it that rivaled that of the surrounding colossal pillars. Illuminated from the four sides, it commanded the impression of a through-and-through monument.

Hisui crossed to the pole, and only then turned to the other three. Usually Hisui's poker face remained emotionless, but this time, with shades of light and shadow playing on his face, he looked vaguely proud.

"I have everything prepared. All that is left is to pull that rope to raise the koinobori flags."

And like he said, the koinobori had been prepared as well. Four emerald green flags lay there, like fish washed ashore.

"If you already went that far, you should've just finished it and raised them yourself..." "This wheelchair's arms could not grasp the rope tightly enough, so Iwa-san, Yukari, Sukuna, I ask you to do the honor." "Sure! Leave it to this old man!" Iwafune rolled up his sleeves excitedly and grabbed the rope.

Meanwhile, Yukari and Sukuna noticed a certain fact and, exceedingly puzzled expression on their faces, turned to each other to exchange troubled looks again.

"Hey, whatcha two standing there for? You got a mission from the king! Get pumped up and let's do this already!" "Sure, sure." "Iwa-san, you're a king, too, though."

With visible reluctance, the two grabbed onto the rope as well.

Observing them, Hisui nodded to himself with satisfaction, then announced like a host, "And now, celebratory raising of the koinobori flags for Children's Day. Please begin."

Prompted by his words, the three tugged at the rope simultaneously.

*

"Well, I had a feeling it would turn out this way." Yukari’s short harsh comment echoed through the sprawling space.

They did raise the koinobori. If three clansmen put effort into it, raising a flag or two was a piece of cake. The flags slid higher and higher as they pulled at the rope, eventually reaching the top of the pole and stopping.

On the pole, strangely brightly lit with light among the otherwise sinking into darkness pillars, 4 carp-shaped flags were suspended. The green bodies of the fish, hanging down listlessly, brought to mind morbid associations with corpses hung by the neck and looked like a ghastly objet d'art at best.

Sukuna tagged at Yukari sleeve, asking, "I haven't really seen the koinobori before, myself, but... Are they supposed to look like that?" "Well, at the very least, the koinobori that I've seen in my life streamed in the wind triumphantly."

Gazing expressionlessly up at his objet d'art, Hisui whispered a single word, "Wind..."

No wind blew in the underground. Naturally. Neither Yukari nor Sukuna knew how the Green King, Hisui Nagare, could overlook that simple and obvious fact.

Hisui's head dropped limply as he said in a quiet voice, "...Iwa-san, Yukari, Sukuna. I sincerely apologize. It is a grave overlook on my part. For some reason, I was under the wrongful impression that once raised, the flag would flutter on its own. Regrettable lapse of memory." Hisui, as he spoke dispassionately, didn't look any different than how he usually did. Except... "Children's Day celebration resulted in a failure. I will clean up here myself, so you can now lower the koinobori. Thank you for the effort..."

It left him feeling depressed, after all. Hisui Nagare may appear expressionless and unsocial, but he wasn't emotionless, and his clansmen knew it perfectly well.

Iwafune, Sukuna and Yukari looked at one another. Communicating their intention to each other took only a moment, and once they had confirmed it, they all started on a slow approach to Hisui.

"Giving up that easily ain't like you, eh, Nagare?"

Hisui lifted his lowered head. His eyes went just a little wide as he turned to look at the three.

"Like Iwa-san said, you're a king, so all you gotta do is just order us around." "Now then, let's get ready." Yukari put his hands on the wheelchair's handles and rolled it. Winking at Hisui who started up at him, he added in a light tone, "If wind doesn't blow, we just need to make it blow. That's how we do things at Jungle, isn't it?"

*

It was hard to call the secret base, originally constructed as a water reservoir facility, a place suitable for humans to live in. Hisui, having chosen this place out of necessity to hide from Timeless Palace, remodeled it in a few ways. He added lighting, installed a security system for the passages that led outside, built a 4 tatami living space... and also restructured water discharge channels, adding a number of vents.

"And hop!" Sukuna, jumping down from one of such vents, held out his PDA with a grin. "I dialed it up as far as it went, and it's ready to start operating any time. I rerouted all the power from the other fans to this one, so I guarantee we'll get us a good wind." "I'm finished with my preparations, as well. Moving the pole is quite bone-breaking, I have to say, but oh well, let's call it special training and leave it at that." "I'm all done sewing the koinobori. Had to shorten them a wee bit, but they still look nice enough."

Sukuna, Yukari and Iwafune gathered back together at Hisui's side.

No wind blew in the underground. But said underground had the necessary equipment to make wind blow. So the plan was to move the pole, placing it in the vicinity of a vent, and make the koinobori flags flutter in an artificially produced wind. Of course, they had to make up for the meager strength of such wind by reducing the mass of the koinobori...

Iwafune, Yukari and Sukuna cooperated, dividing the tasks between themselves and quickly completing all the groundwork. Hisui didn't waste time giving some instructions, and in no time, everything fell in place, illuminated koinobori flags shaped like carps hanging loosely in front of Hisui's eyes once again.

"All that's left is to turn on the fan in the vent, and we'll have us some wind. I transferred the operator rights on the fan to you, Nagare, so you do it." Grinning Sukuna flashed a thumbs-up.

Hisui blinked twice, stared at him for a while, then bowed his head to his clansmen. "...Iwa-san, Yukari, Sukuna, thank you very much." "You don't have to bow your head to us though." "You were so pumped up about this whole thing that I found myself wanting to see it, too. Alright, turn it on, c'mon!"

The clansmen's anticipating gazes focused on the koinobori flags.

Hisui, too, staring up at the pole's top once again, murmured, "Commencing operation."

A low rumble resounded. The fan, activated remotely, started rotating, slowly at first, then faster, gaining speed by the second. Its low droning echoed through the darkness, and before long the flapping of cloth started mingling with it. The four carp flags streamed in the wind, like they came back to life, swimming in the water.

"Quite beautiful," Yukari voiced his impression honestly.

Illuminated from all sides, the 4 green carps swayed, fluttered and danced in the wind, beating their tails as they did, and indeed, it was a beautiful, if somewhat fantastic, sight.

"Ohh... So this is the koinobori, huh! Pretty cool I gotta admit!" "Yeah, and it sure makes a far greater impression like this than if we did it outside. Oh well, all our troubles were worth it, then, heh."

Sukuna and Iwafune nodded to themselves with obvious satisfaction, and only Hisui didn't say a word, gazing at the swimming fish fixedly.

Tossing a glance at him from the side, Sukuna spoke up, trying to make it sound like an afterthought, "Speaking of, this is my first time seeing the koinobori, is this your first time, too, Nagare? Is that why you wanted to see it?" "No," Hisui quietly shook his head. "This is not my first time. There was one other time when I saw the koinobori, although I cannot remember when and where."

Hearing that reply in a murmuring calm voice, Sukuna's breath caught.

Iwafune said that due to being pursued by Timeless Palace, they had never had a chance to do the koinobori flag raising. In which case, the one other time when Hisui could see the koinobori had to take place before that. That is, before he had become the Green King. At the time when Hisui Nagare was still a normal human who had normal parents and lived with them as a family.

In a natural progression, the three's gazes shifted from the carp flags to Hisui then. It was unclear whether Hisui felt those stares or not when he continued, as if speaking to himself, "The meaning and influence of the koinobori that I saw at that time is very different. But... I feel that this one is more beautiful." "..."

Silence fell for a while, and then, Iwafune's mouth spread in a grin as he clapped Hisui on the shoulder. "Is that so. Great, then."

Hisui took his time to gaze at Iwafune, then Yukari, then Sukuna, and only after that said, "Yes. Great indeed."

A tiny smile curved his lips then.

T/N: koinobori = carp-shaped flag raising

[bedlamsong]

Excerpt: Angel On Either Shoulder

I wanted to write a platonic Samifer piece. And I’m a huge Sabriel shipper. …and for awhile now I wanted to write an not quite ot3. I wanted a pair with a platonic third….so this is that. A sabriel pairing with a platonic Lucifer.

Also…this is a AU. I’m exploring the characters in a way i haven’t seen yet. ************

Sam was still trying to figure out how he let Charlie talk him into attending a convention. He might have been the nerd his brother always called him, but convention halls packed with cosplayers and booths were not his thing. And this convention was just too crowded.

Being hit by two different sets of wings three times should have been proof enough. The third time the golden wings knocked into his face was the final straw.

“Can’t you be more careful with those things!” Sam growled at the angel cosplayer.

“What?” The angel turned, causing the wing to hit Sam in the face. A fourth time.

Sam let out a loud sound of frustration, causing many heads to turn. He didn’t care by that point. In fact, he would have yelled at the owner of the golden wings…except the breath got caught in his throat when he saw the shorter man’s face for the first time. Sam blinked.

“I think you broke him, brother.” This was spoken by the owner of the tattered red wings. Those had hit Sam a couple times as well. This angel, with his broken halo, was almost as breathtaking as the golden winged angel. Almost, but not quite.

Not that Sam took notice. He’d gotten sucked into honey colored eyes.

“I think I did,” the golden angel agreed with a grin. One that turned into a leer as he took Sam in from head to toe.

“Doesn’t he remind you of someone?” The fallen angel asked. “One of those hunter brothers from that paranormal series you love.”

“Supernatural. As if you didn’t know, Luci. You read every book. And yeah. He looks just how I pictured Sam.”

Sam blushed. He knew exactly what they were talking about. Sam wasn’t cosplaying so much as simply dressing in his normal clothes. Charlie assured him that everyone would assume that he was cosplaying the fictional character Sam from the book series anyways.

The fallen angel, Luci, he’d been called laughed. “Guess he’s not broken after all, Gabe!”

“That’s good,” Gabe replied to the other angel. Then to Sam, “It would be hard to ask you out if I did manage to break you.”

Sam opened his mouth to answer, a witty remark on the tip of his tongue; but as soon as he opened his mouth Charlie was there pulling him away.

“C’mon, Sam! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! The Sam contest is about to start and you’re going to win for sure. You are, after all, the best Sam here. Pretty much by default.”

Sam sighed. “If you say so, Charlie.”

His friend glared. “You know it.” …

Gabriel and Lucifer watched the tall hunk of Hotness wrapped in flannel get pulled away but the redhead in a knight’s tunic.

Gabriel knew her, mostly by reputation. Charlie Bradbury to some. To others she was the Queen of Moons of Moondor, the ruler of one of four factions in a Medieval type LARPing game. In fact Charlie was well known in the LARPing community, but Gabriel didn’t remember anyone talking about someone that looked like the perfect Sam from the Supernatural series. Gabriel would have remembered hearing about it.

Lucifer, his brother, broke Gabe out of his thoughts with a elbow nudge. “You just gonna watch him walk away or are we going to watch the contest?”

Gabe grinned, not ashamed at being caught. “Both. Both is good.”

Luci rolled his eyes and linked their arms carefully. Carefully to avoid tangling their wings together. ‘Sam’ hadn’t been the first to yell at them because of their wings. Which they both had a tendency to forget about. One would think wearing cumbersome wings to a convention would be annoying for the wearer as much as everyone else, but the wings actually managed to feel like they belonged on the two men dressed as angels. So they actually kept forgetting the wings were there at all.

Gabriel blamed himself for that. He’d made them light for long term wearing. But he couldn’t regret them if the wings were the reason for meeting ‘Sam’. …

Lucifer stayed by Gabriel’s side like a burr during the entire Sam Character contest. Which didn’t surprise Gabe at all. Luci was still getting, slowly, used to crowds again. Admittedly the one at the convention, any convention, was huge. So it was no wonder that Gabe’s older brother stood extra close.

After all, Lucifer had only recently been released from his padded cell back into the world. Gabriel shoved the train of thought aside. If he focused on it then he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the convention. Or the Sam contest.

Speaking of which…. The tall hunk they’d met minutes ago was easily the best one on the stage. Granted, the others were nice specimens, but they were unpolished gems next to a sparkling diamond.

‘Their’ Sam had flushed cheeks from all the action he was getting on the stage. Then, maybe having caught someone’s eye from the audience, his cheeks went reader.

Luci said, “You haven’t taken your eyes off of him.”

“Can you blame me? That jaw! Those flowing locks! And legs that go on forever!”

“That’s not all though,” There was something in Luci’s tone but Gabriel didn’t turn from the stage to look.

“What do you mean?”

“You bumped him with your wings.”

“So? I bumped a few people today.”

“Because you were too busy watching him.” There was no doubt in Lucifer’s voice as to who he was referring to. “You bumped him so he’d notice you. I bumped him because I don’t have the same control over my wings as you do.”

Finally Gabe took his eyes off the stage to eye his brother. “You noticed that, huh?”

Luci made a face that asked if his little brother really could get away with that question. Lucifer might have spent years alone in a padded cell, because their eldest brother had convinced their father that it was necessary, but Luci could still read Gabriel like no time had passed at all. …

As predicted by Charlie, Sam did win the contest. When the presenter asked for his name, and Sam replied honestly the man stared, blinked, and laughed like it was a joke.

“Ladies and Gents! I present to you our first place winner! Sam! As himself!”

The audience thought it was a great joke a much as the presenter had. They clapped, roared, hooted, and hollered.

Sam’s prized was a plastic replica of Ruby’s knife and a generous gift card for a local restaurant, Heaven’s Delight.

When Sam was finally allowed off the stage he was met by three people. Charlie, he expected. The angels he should have. Especially the golden one. What was his name…? He was sure he heard the other one say it…. whatever it was the golden one hadn’t taken his eyes off Sam the whole time. Even now as Sam stepped down off of the last step.

“We didn’t get a chance to finish our conversation,” the angel told him with a grin.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “No, I suppose not.”

Charlie was looking between them with a curious twinkle in her eye. Sam knew that look.

[ask-de-writer]

CAPTURED BY THE CLANS : Part 10 of 10 : Science Fiction

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CAPTURED BY THE CLANS

Part 10 of 10

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

18231 words

Copyright 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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All of the Feront creatures, T’cass and Lezon piled into the Feront shuttle and quickly became a vanishing speck in the sky.

The salesperson shook her head and asked, “What makes that pair so special?  I’ve never heard of anything like that.  What do they play at?”

Wryly, K’ress said, “Computerized space battle simulations, virtual reality hand to hand combat, even board games.  As far as I know, they are the only ones that the Feront plays with.”

Shaking her head, the salesperson commented, “It’s hard to imagine that thing playing.  There’s two city ships of it up there with enough fire power to knock out a battle fleet and it’s still one thing.  I can’t imagine it.”

Six hours later, tanks filled with water for reaction mass, the D’ancer was ready to launch. Beside the crew ladder M’rel calmly and K’ress impatiently waited for the Feront shuttle to land.  It was so silent in its approach that it took both of them by surprise.  

They found the explanation for that when the canopy lifted and they saw Lezon dismounting from the pilot’s saddle.  K’ress overheard her explaining, “. . . and that’s how you can avoid detection without any fancy equipment.”

The Feront replied, “Was that how you separated me in the Contact/Conflict?”

“In part.  I used some other tricks, too.”

As she and T’cass joined their friends at the foot of the ladder, K’ress couldn’t resist asking, “Does the Port know that the shuttle has come down?”

With a feral grin, Lezon replied, “They do now!  T’cass notified the Control Bunker once we were on the ground.  Let’s get going before they figure out that it was us!”

In the control room, M’rel asked, “Do you know how to lift this leaky tachyon bucket, T’cass?”

Finished strapping into her crash couch, T’cass replied cheerfully, “Nope.”  She gestured at Lezon, who was already setting up the launch sequence in the computer, “She does, though.  If anyone can get this thing up, its Lezon.”

T’cass settled deep into her crash couch and serenely shut her eyes, gone into the calm retreat of a Warrior’s Way Meditation.

K’ress noted wryly, “That’s one hell of vote of confidence.  Is there anything that I can do, Lezon?”

“Yes,” was the prompt reply. “Take the couch just to the left of mine.  It’s engineering.  I want you to monitor the pump pressure.  We need at least four hundred kg/cm^2 all the time.  We can run as high as six.  If any pump falls below four, make it up with raised pressure in the ones that are left.  Also, keep an eye on the power capsule.  We need a steady twelve meg output.”

Lezon turned to M’rel and said respectfully, “Ma’am, you know how the Comm panel works.  Strap in there and raise the Control Bunker.  Let them know that we are ready to lift, per certificate T.C. 404-GT76.  Warn them to clear the area because we are using a reaction drive.  We need a totally clear traffic lane because, after launch commit, we cannot maneuver away from our ballistic course.”

M’rel sat and secured her safety harness.  She reached out and activated the Comm.  Smiling her best professional smile, M’rel stated, “Hello, Control.  This is D’ancer, T.C.404-GT76.  We request clearance to lift.  We are on reaction drives with inertial assist.  We need a totally clear traffic lane to orbit, as we cannot deviate once we commit.  Be sure the pad zone is clear.  This thing has a hot exhaust.”

A grizzled veteran with scars visible through her mane, replied, “This is Control.  The notion that you are actually taking up that hundred and fifty year old antique has drawn news flitters and a camera crew on the ground. They have set up at the north side of your pad.  Watch out for the flitters.  You can lift at will.”

M’rel replied tartly, “Oh good!  I’ll get a lot of work out of this lift off!  I’m a reconstructive medical specialist, you know.  I’ve had to be doing Barbeque Cats from the War.  Those news tapers will make well paid private work at last!

“Um, the rest of the crew just said that we’ll give them twenty minutes to notify their next of kin or clear out to at least 800 meters.  Let the news flitters know that the wake and exhaust of something this big, driven by reaction engines, will splash them all over the field if they get closer than 900 meters.”

Control actually grinned and said, “I like your style.  I made them listen to the clearance chatter.  You just warned them.  They have twenty minutes to get clear.  I wish that you could see it.  They’re scrambling like ants when you turn over a rock.  One of the flitters is actually moving in for a close up.  I just sent them a canned get-clear warning.”

K’ress was running engineering checks on the ancient systems, familiarizing herself with them. Lezon joined T’cass in meditation.  At four minutes to lift, both Lezon and T’cass came fully alert.  

Lezon smiled approvingly at K’ress and said, “I see that you spent your time well.”

“Thank-you,” K’ress replied.  “The drive is preheated and the pumps are up to pressure. That old capsule is working better than I hoped.”

M’rel called Control again. “Time is up.  Lift Commit is initiated.  Engine core is coming up to operational heat.  Reaction mass pumps are on line.  Call you from orbit!”

Enormous box shaped air scoops opened out from the sides of the tall, ancient, winged projectile-like vehicle.  Steam began to blast out around the base of the ship.  A moment later, the steam turned to a screaming, almost totally transparent blue-white glare of flame.  The D’ancer, nearly as tall, if far less massive than a military Siege Ship, lifted smoothly, appearing to barely move at first.  Suddenly gathering way she leaped straight up into the sky.  The concrete pad where she had been sitting was cooling and cracking off glazed bits of fused, glassy blast scar.

One reckless news flitter did get caught in the supersonic wake of the monster that was screaming past on its way out of the atmosphere.  Luckily the flitter’s pilot had fast reflexes and they recovered control a good seven meters above the ground.

The D’ancer rolled out at 15.5 kilometers and began to accelerate even more.  She was eating all the air that the scoops could grab for free reaction mass along with the water that she carried.  Besides speed, the D’ancer was gaining altitude, running ahead of a big plume of vapor.  She continued to climb, coasting on inertia now.  The antique engines had shut down exactly on their mark.  On a shallow angle, the D’ancer rose up to a low orbit.

Lezon checked her course and made a low acceleration correction to regularize the orbit.  There was no onboard artificial gravity.  It was hard to realize that something so basic hadn’t even been invented when the D’ancer was built. Everyone was experiencing the sensation of free-fall.  Lezon and T’cass were moving about the D’ancer with practiced ease.  Small combat ships didn’t waste energy on artificial gravity either, so both were familiar with the feeling.  K’ress, as an engineer, was at least used to it.  M’rel was quietly curled around her tummy, being miserable.

While Lezon and T’cass were busy, K’ress noticed a ship approaching, matching their orbit.  She hit the intercom and her voice rang out through the ship, “We have company!  Intercept in fifteen minutes.”

The Feront activated the visual communicator.  Several reptilian heads scanned about, focusing on Lezon and T’cass.  “My friends!  It is good to see your entities again so soon.

“You fulfilled your promise to come and bring your ship to me for salvage and refit.  I will carry out my promises as well.  While I work on your vessel, we can play! This time, I believe that my strategy will prevail!”

M’rel opened one eye and stared balefully at the others, cheerfully chattering away and said, “I have two questions.  One, does this feeling of nausea ever actually get better?  Two, why is the Feront always saying that it thinks that it will beat you?”

T’cass responded, “You will get used to the free-fall soon enough.  Just orient by eye and forget about your ears.  

“As for the Feront, it’s simply being utterly honest.  It does think that it may beat us and says so.  It’s right about twenty percent of the time, too.  It enjoys playing and doesn’t get the chance very often.”

Just then, the Feront chimed in on the communicator, “I will be using a gravitational grapple to remove your vessel to the working and salvage area.  Please secure. Down will face my vessel.”

Lezon looked sympathetically at M’rel and requested, “This vessel was designed for gravity along the line of thrust.  Could you orient your tow that way for the comfort of one of ours?”

The polyphonic voice replied, “Certainly, friend Lezon.  Field is now building.”  Gently up and down returned.  

K’ress brought M’rel an antinausiant.  M’rel sipped gently and remarked, “Someday, somebody will invent something to stop stomach heaves that doesn’t need to go into a stomach that already can’t hold it.”  She smiled wanly.  “I like the Feront already, just for being considerate.”

“It can be, when it wants to be,” acknowledged Lezon, “but if you are going to deal with the Feront you need to understand that it will often not think of you at all.  Remember, it has been a single thing and living in space craft for at least four million standard years.  In all of that time, it had never encountered another intelligent entity that it recognized as such.  As a result, it has only a little experience in dealing with others that are not itself.”

M’rel nodded, interested and focusing on something besides her now subsiding nausea.  “I see. How can it stay one thing over interstellar distances?  Does its mind have a faster than light way to communicate?”

Lezon answered, “That is best demonstrated.  Pour some water into a drinking bowl and get a second bowl.”

Mystified, M’rel did as asked. Lezon took the bowl with the water and said, “This is the Feront.” She poured some into the empty bowl.  “This is still the Feront, only now it is in two parts.”  Pouring the two back together, she added, “Now, the Feront is one thing again.  So far as it knows, it was never two.  Both the separation and the merging are not conscious actions and are totally without trauma.  There is a particular distance at which it simply separates or merges, that’s all.”

M’rel shivered all over at the thought.  “The universe is strange,” she quoted from a Clan Precept.

Lezon surprised her by finishing, “And in that very strangeness lies all of the riches of life.”

“You know the Precepts?” M’rel questioned.

T’cass cut in, “Of course. How can you understand a conflict if you do not grasp all sides of it?”

K’ress put in, “You mean something like knowing your enemy?”

Easily, Lezon replied, “Yes, but that is very incomplete.  All of life is conflict, even friendship is the management of conflict.  Thus, you must understand all that you can of everything about you if you are to manage the conflict to the best good of all.”

“What about your enemies?  Do you consider them?” K’ress asked sarcastically.  She was not prepared for the answer that she got.

“Of course.  Their lives are as valuable as your own.  Otherwise, the conflict has no value or meaning at all.  As soon as the armed portion of the conflict is over for them, they must be protected.”

K’ress snorted at that and retorted, “What about the crew of the signal laser at K’stall? That was knocked out and helpless.  A cruiser wiped them out later.”

“Right,” agreed T’cass. “And after the battle, War Leader Lezon sent the captain home to M’cratt in disgrace.  The Empress Triad ordered the captain executed for violation of the Warrior’s Way.  We heard about it on the Strategy Board.”

About then, the Feront came onto the communicator.  “I have brought you to the place of work.  It will be best if you come into my vessel while I work on yours.  Your input will be desirable from time to time in regard to the life support system and its amenities.”

During the refit, M’rel and K’ress shivered and stayed close in their quarters.  The Feront liked cold places, arctic regions and ice worlds.  Its idea of warm was still more than a bit cool.

T’cass and Lezon didn’t seem to notice.  They went scampering off with Feront in tow.  There were games to play and mock combats to enjoy.  They showed up irregularly for meals and to cuddle up in a warm fur pile to sleep.

The Feront always seemed to have time for its guests.  It courteously answered any questions except for ones relating to how the big city ship worked.  The Feront would only say that the fusion system that drove it operated on a different principle than the ones used by either the Clans or M’cratti.

K’ress and M’rel spent a good deal of time going over the details of their ship’s refit.  Doing so revealed that both T’cass and Lezon had ideas about creature comfort that were at odds with their Clan raised partners.  The Warriors cheerfully yielded on most points but both insisted on a liquid exercise tank and a gymnasium.

The antique ship’s monster fuel tank became three cavernous holds and a serious group of maintenance shops for metal, electronic and tachyonic equipment.  The power capsule had been replaced.  K’ress’s practiced eye noted that it was one from a capital ship and far bigger than would normally be needed for a freight hauler.  The drive was one from a fast messenger ship that had been pretty badly shot up.  Her eyes widened when she saw the specs.

This vessel was no longer an antique.  The fore and aft gun emplacements were not large by most standards.  There were seven five kiloton per second weapons in each battery, the most firepower allowed to their newly assigned Class B freight designation.

They needed only to stock the galley and seek a cargo to begin their new life as the Clan D’ancer. Lezon reflected that since the war was over, so was her service to the Empress Triad.  She hadn’t surrendered, she was Submitted to T’cass.  The others came with her.  The Clan D’ancer was as good a place to be as she could find.  This new way of life would be an interesting Conflict to manage.

–THE END–    

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 76 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 76 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Captain Farrol subsided with a scowl.  Sarfin however, settled the matter simply.  He ordered the Masters to come before the Court.  It took a few minutes for them to arrive.  Master Juris frowned angrily at Master Selked who looked calmly back at him.

Using a set of locking tongs, Kurin opened the box and extracted the awl. She locked the tongs so that the awl could not drop from their grip by accident and held it out to Master Juris for examination.  

“Do you recognize this awl, Master Juris?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said shortly.

“Please tell the Court the circumstances and anything that you may have deduced from them,” Kurin asked quietly.

Master Juris answered, full of certainty, “I first saw this awl on board the Dark Dragon where it had been recovered from the shirt pocket of Garfin, the sailor from the Grython, who died.”

“Did you identify the awl?” she asked him a little sad at what she was about to do.

“I did.  It has Master Selked’s mark.  It had to be made on board the Grandalor, in his shop, with his knowledge and consent.  If he had not made it or approved it, it would not bear his mark.”  Master Juris crossed his arms over his chest as if the matter were incontestable.

“Very good, Master Juris,” said Kurin briskly.  “Are you sure that the presence of the Master’s mark means that the thing is made in his shop or that the Master had anything to do with it?”

“Of course,” he responded, nettled.  “I mean — it is his mark after all — That’s what the mark is for, to certify — ”

”Let’s adjourn to your shop for a few moments,” said Kurin, agilely leading the way over the rails of the tied ships, down a companion ladder and directly to Master Juris’s boat-shop.

Before anybody could stop her, she had gone to the third cupboard left of the door, taken down Master Juris’s stamp of Hag beak, inked it with the mordant ink for bone marking and neatly marked the tongs that she was still holding.

She held them out for Master Juris and the Court to see.  “So — these were made in your shop, with your consent?  Sadly, no.  Any who had some skill at tools and knew where the stamp was kept could have made this awl.

“Now, let me ask you a few questions about Master Selked.  Have you ever known him to do anything illegal or even unethical?”

“Not until this,” said Master Juris, not to be deterred from his preconception.

“What is his level of skill as a tool maker?”

Master Juris’ brow wrinkled down under his bald pate and he replied, “The best one in the Naral fleet.  I have bought his tools whenever possible.”

“Please look at the awl again.  As a tool.  Is it up to Master Selked’s usual standard?”

Confused, now, and frowning in concentration, Master Juris finally looked at the awl as a tool, rather than as evidence of guilt.  Perplexed, he said, “This in not up to his usual standard at all.  There are small flats in the handle that should have been smoothed out.  You can see how the point is nicely enough faired to the handle but the tip is a little off center.  Master Selked’s mark is off kilter and not cleanly done.”

Sourly, Master Selked remarked, “It’s about time that you noticed.  That thing’s not even a second.  I wish now that I had just chucked it overboard like I meant to.”

Kurin said, “Let’s go back to the Court.  I want to explore this situation more fully.  I am sure that Captain Farrol will have questions for you as well.”

Back on deck and seated at her table, Kurin said sympathetically, “Master Selked, please tell us what you know of the origin of the awl.”

He steepled his hands thoughtfully and, after putting his mind in order, began, “I know less than I should.  Part I can speculate on but I’d rather stick to the facts that I do know.

“The night that the awl was apparently made, Mister Morgu, Captain Barad and myself were playing a game of Three Dragons.  Chena, the cabin-girl, was serving snacks and tending to the cabin lamps as usual.  Along about midway through the Second Night Watch, she complained of feeling tired and collapsed.  She died about an hour later.  We thought it to be food poisoning at the time.  The galley was ransacked, trying to find the cause but nothing came of it.

“In the morning, when I opened my shop, my apprentice, Merk was dead as well.  The kit of tools that you have here, was on the bench.  I was angry that my mark had been placed on such slipshod work and was going to toss it out.  I should have.  Lives, treasure and ship time would have been saved.

“Merk did have an infected cut and we thought that he’d died of blood poisoning.  No reason to look further.  We never even realized until much later that Merk had brought in one of the snack trays and given it to Mister Morgu.

“In all of the uproar, the kit got put aside and wound up in stores. When Kurti, the new cabin-girl needed a kit for light fabric repairs, she took it.  She’d been stores clerk as well as a diver and not only had access, she could have told at a glance that the kit was a second and that I’d prefer to never sell it.  By luck alone, she never needed the awl.  

“Her death was from lung parasites picked up while diving on the wrecked Princamorn.  Only she, Captain Barad and Doctor Corin knew that she was dying.”

Kurin interrupted Master Juris’s narrative and gave some of the parchments from her voluminous stack to Captain Sarfin.  “These are Doctor Corin’s autopsy reports for Chena, Merk and Kurti.

“The first two show reasonable symptoms of Ord poisoning, masked by the basic assumptions for the cause of death.  In Kurti’s case lung parasites were confirmed in the blood from her lungs.  Here also is the report on Captain Tanlin’s case, from when she was brought aboard until she awoke from her coma during the same time that Kurti was dying.

“There is an amazing physical resemblance between Tanlin and Kurti.  The coincidence of timing between Tanlin awakening and Kurti dying caused me to make many inquiries to verify that they are in fact different people.  There are lots of witnesses to Tanlin being brought aboard during the rescue of the Princamorn survivors.  She was unconscious from a head blow and actually mistaken for Kurti, the diver.

“The matter was settled for certain by Blind Mecat.  As you know, the Tenth Great Law says that if a Great Dragon states something as a fact in a legal matter, it must be accepted.  She told me, and I quote, ‘the whales celebrated Kurti.  She is gone.’  Blind Mecat is right over there if you wish confirm what I have just told you.”

Captain Sarfin accepted the parchments.  Dryly he said, “I believe, in the absence of objections from the Dragons, that I will accept your word. These autopsies may be prejudicial to your case.”

“Your Honor, if my case cannot deal with all of the facts, it is worthless, even if it should win,” Kurin said sincerely.

“Now,” she turned back to Master Selked, “please clear something up for me.  After Chena collapsed, who suggested that you search the galley?”

Master Selked thought for a moment and said, “As I recollect the evening, it was Mister Morgu.”

“Did you all go to search the galley yourselves?”

“Yes, we did.  Quite a commotion it was.  Remember, we’d eaten those snacks too.  Didn’t find anything though.  Never finished that game of Three Dragons either.”

“I have only a few more questions.  Your answer to this one can be confirmed by four witnesses from the galley.  Who was last of your group to arrive at the galley?”

“That was Mister Morgu.  He got there several minutes after the rest of us.”

“Would his delay have been long enough to get to your shop before going on to the galley?”

“Easily. I never thought of that.”

“I believe that I am done with you, Master Selked,” said Kurin. “Thank you.”

“Now, I need to deal with the Ord itself,” Kurin announced.  “For this, I need to question former Captain Barad.  Before I do, though, I need to supply a character witness because I know what the Court is likely to think of anything that he says.  I felt the same way before I began this.”  

TO BE CONTINUED

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