#like I wasn't going to make him a lich regardless

[birb--birb]

Its 2am and Im out here crying over a SKELETON IM 😭😭😭😭😭

[starlight-drive-in]

I'm in my feelings about THE Emmrich decision and the fact that over half of players chose it?! Disorganized sappy rambling below.

I had seen a spoiler after starting the game the Emmrich could become a lich before I had the quest in game (and before I had really gotten a feel for his character) so I wasn't surprised when he told me about the possibility and I wasn't necessarily opposed to it at first. It sounded - at surface level - pretty cool and like a solution to his fear of dying.

I was considering romancing him at this point and thought a romance with a lich sounded interesting enough, my Rook was a Mourn Watcher, so it made sense to me that this wouldn't bother her all that much. (At this point I didn't know it was a choice between that and Manfred)

But the more I thought about and the general trend of immortality corrupting a person, and thought how tragic it would be for Emmrich lose his joy for life, his childlike wonder, his kindness, or even how immortally would impact his capacity for love the more i strayed away from "letting" him do it.

Now include the fact that Manfred shows all that new potential right before he gets ripped away? How excited Emmrich was to hear Manfred talk? How he kneels down to Manfred's height to encourage new words from him right there in Hezenkoss's basement. It really clicked for me then that Manfred isn't just a friend or a assistant to Emmrich, no. That is his son.

As soon as Manfred is crushed, he immediately takes him to the lich lords, I think he knows they aren't going to let him have his cake and eat it too but he takes him straight there regardless. He doesn't teeter on the decision the way he's been teetering on the decision of Lichdom.

It's only when he considers "should" that he falters. He says something to the effect of, "What kind of Watcher would I be if I can't accept death?" In that moment it felt to me that he wasn't choosing between Manfred and Lichdom he was choosing between what he wanted and what he thinks he should do, who he thinks he should be and his duty to the Watchers. I wanted so badly to be able to say something like "Forget about the Watchers, what do YOU want?"

Post decision, Emmrich doesn't seem to have regrets about not becoming a lich? Sure he wonders what could have been but we don't hear about companions overhearing him mourning his lose of immortality, and Manfred seems to give him a new lease on life immediately. In the scene after we revive Manfred, Emmrich's literally so proud and happy? Plus he pretty much says "no regrets". I can understand that maybe people think Lich Emmrich is more inline with what he "should be" and that's the way to go, or maybe people just think lich's are cooler and skeletal sons... who knows. The stats just really surprised me given that you make that decision after the heartwarming scene of Manfred's first words.

After hearing some of the post-lich banters (that ripped my heart out), I want to know how many people re-loaded that decision, especially if they romanced him. But I also understand that TragedyTM has its own appeal.

I watched the romanced version of the lich scene and the scene itself has it's appeal (and a waaaaay earlier love confession than human Human Emmrich but it makes sense) but as for the rest of his existence, I prefer the happy family ending. What can I say?

I have waaaay more thoughts on this and the angst potential of the lich path but that's another post entirely.

If you read all this, you are amazing and I hope you have a wonderful day, or your day gets better if its going poorly.

P.S. if you chose Lichdom, absolutely no hate, you do you. I'm just a sap.

[veilkeeper]

The Sacrifice of Souls, Part 2

alt title: why im putting corentin in the torment nexus

this is the second instalment of a 2-part essay series. the first part focused on the events of emmrich's quests, as well as my analysis and critique of his quest line overall. this part will focus specifically on the effects these choices have on the romance, as well as my thoughts on how i'm handling the events for my emmrichmancing rook, corentin.

spoilers ahead! beware that both essays are going to assume you have completed The Sacrifice of Souls and at least one of the follow up quests, Heir to the Dead or Will and Testament. if you have not, i suggest returning to this later and playing it out yourself.

so let's start with the most important question of the day:

what happens to the romance after the sacrifice of souls?

good news! no matter what you pick, the romance can continue on unabated. there's just some long-term details and tone changes that need to be considered.

if you choose to save manfred, be prepared for parenthood. previously, the game had poked at the idea of manfred being emmrich's kid, but now that manfred is talking and progressing at a rapid pace, he is in full "magic-flinging skeleton son" territory, and a romanced rook is going on that journey with emmrich. there is also now a near certainty that rook is going to outlive him—regardless of your personal headcanons, the game assumes that rook is younger than emmrich, and now that he's locked into a mortal lifespan that's something that needs to be considered. especially since, as discussed in part one, emmrich's fears of his own mortality haven't really been addressed at all.

but if you're into co-parenting a rambunctious skeleton with an older, gentlemanly necromancer (which, let's be real, is what most people signed up for when they hit those first flirt options anyway), then this path is probably exactly what you were looking for.

that said, let's talk about the lich romance angle. i was worried when i went down this path that the romance would just immediately end, but it actually doesn't! emmrich certainly wonders if it will—before he undergoes his rites, he has a conversation with rook about how they'll navigate a relationship once he's undead. he says that his senses will change, the way he feels (not about rook, but literally the way he feels) will change, and his body will be different. but they agree they can make it work, so hell yeah.

and if you like the whole "immortal lover" trope, there's some stuff here to like. the lich lords, when you arrive to bear witness to the rites, refer to rook as "challenger of the gods, volkarin's beloved", and emmrich waxes poetic about how even after rook passes, the way he feels about them will be immortalized alongside him. there's also a very sweet kiss before he goes into the rite, and rook has the opportunity to tell him they love him, just in case he doesn't come back out. and afterwards, they have a powerful, immortal skeleton boyfriend, so for the monsterfuckers in the audience.... nice.

so what's the catch?

if you're looking for a fairly unambiguously "happy ending", and if you like the idea of your rook parenting for the foreseeable future, saving manfred is your easy option. on this path, rook and emmrich will have many good years together before he dies. there's absolutely still room for angst here because of emmrich's unresolved issues, but there's definitely a more... domestic, low-key quality to this path.

the lich romance has some pretty glaring obstacles, and that's probably a big part of why a lot of people doing the romance might not pick this. first of all, he wasn't joking, he's literally a skeleton. he can put on a glamour for polite company, but he is a skeleton. realistically, intimacy is going to be complicated by that. on top of that, as a lich for the mourn watch, he's going to have certain duties that he can't get away from. myrna herself asks if they're going to be seeing less of emmrich now that he's a lich, and his answer is basically not yet. at some point, some time in the future, he is going to have to go into the necropolis to begin his lich duties and he won't really be coming back out after. so in a very real way, there is an invisible timer on the relationship where it'll basically be dead in the water unless rook makes some serious lifestyle changes* to accommodate that (assuming they're allowed to). so there's some built in angst with the lich romance that may or may not be your preferred flavour, because his job might end their relationship long before rook's mortal lifespan even becomes a consideration.

*theoretically a mourn watcher rook is going to have an easier time with that particular adjustment, but i'm speaking from my perspective as a LoF rook

decisions, decisions

this is the part where i start talking about my rook, but do us both a favour and keep reading, because believe it or not there is still some emmrich analysis in this part, and it might inspire you to do your own dissection for your rook, too.

so my rook is corentin laidir, and from the moment emmrich said the word "lich" he's been quietly freaking out about it. largely because of the whole "you're going to leave me to be a lich in the necropolis" thing.

i had hoped that resolving emmrich's quest line would give me a very clean solution to the lich freak out issue, and it does! ....if i liked the ending where we save manfred. which i don't. controversial opinion, but i don't actually care about manfred enough for corentin to be his second dad, and from a roleplay perspective i don't think corentin would advocate for bringing manfred back.

but on the other hand, the lich!emmrich option is quite literally corentin's nightmare. what corentin wants, at his core, is for emmrich to accept both manfred's death and his own, whenever it may come. he wants emmrich to understand that running from his own fear of death like that is beneath him. is it honouring death to defy it like that, even (supposedly) in the name of service? corentin would argue no, if he could bring himself to argue with emmrich about anything.

selfishly, corentin is also afraid of what eternity means. sure, emmrich says now that he'll always remember corentin and what they have, but what about a thousand years from now? he's afraid of being replaced, and of becoming insignificant to someone who is so, so important to him right now. in this life.

so the question becomes: do i choose an imperfect, happier ending that maintains emmrich's mortality, or do i throw corentin into an emotional blender?

why i'm putting corentin in the torment nexus

one of the problems of being a creatively-minded person while playing decision-based games is that there comes a time when you have to make a choice:

do i work with the options available to me, or do i pull out my scalpel and gut this thing?

and in moments like this, where neither option is quite right, i have no choice but to get surgical. pick what's interesting, and frankenstein that thing into something that works well enough to carry me to the end.

and the fact of the matter is, the lich path is just more interesting to me in this case because it's an angst machine, and because it makes sense for him to get stuck in it. if i dig into corentin's character, in that exact moment when a decision is made, there's no world where he's going to tell emmrich to give up on his life's work just to bring manfred back and stay mortal. but there is a world where he'd recognize that telling emmrich to give up on his life's work for a guy who loves him who he met five minutes ago is a dick move, and then he'd get completely caught off guard when emmrich says he's going to start preparing for his rites now.

so where does this leave corentin?

here's how i'm handling the situation for the time being, unless something comes along that completely revolutionizes how i feel about all this.

every time emmrich has talked about becoming a lich, it's always been a vague future thing with no real timeline attached. in hindsight, it's pretty clear that the only thing delaying the process was himself—emmrich was uncertain if he was willing to risk the danger of the rites. this uncertainty, however, has left corentin with the impression that even if he was 100% sure and raring to go forward, there would be tests and preparation that needed to happen first, and there would be time before the rites could happen.

so when the question of whether or not to save manfred comes up, corentin does what any good boyfriend would and he tells emmrich that he's dedicated his life to potentially becoming a lich, and he needs to be really certain before throwing that away.

corentin is allergic to being a bummer; even when he's really struggling with something, he feels like he can't talk about it if it'll upset someone else. emmrich is desperately afraid of death, and corentin is desperately afraid of being alone, so he's gotten very good at keeping himself... palatable. so when emmrich responds to his encouragement by saying that he'll start preparing for the rites immediately? well, corentin feels locked into the supportive boyfriend schtick. he feels like he has to be unerringly supportive and not question emmrich's decision, even though it is definitely something that effects him, too.

the whole time emmrich's preparing to become a lich, corentin is thumbs up "you got this babe!"-ing his way through it, all while frantically trying to squash down the feeling of impending doom. because he is 100% completely convinced the other shoe is going to drop at any moment and emmrich is going to go to the Lich Corner Store for cigarettes and never come home.

though it should be noted, the skeleton part of "skeleton boyfriend" is really the least of his concerns. it's just everything around that.

and where does this leave emmrich?

he doesn't know it, but it leaves him with a pretty miserable boyfriend. they're going to have to reckon with corentin's issues at some point.

just like they're going to have to deal with emmrich's. becoming a lich is maybe not 100% a good thing, at least not right this second. he says that he "thought he knew its price," and in keeping with that banter i linked in the first part, he seems unprepared for the reality of losing people. it feels a little like he's rushing into it headfirst before the grief can hit him full force and he can get cold feet.

i'm really curious how he's going to feel if something happens to corentin (or almost happens), and it gives him a reality check on his boyfriend's mortality. losing manfred is already unimaginably hard... is he prepared for what it's going to be like when he loses corentin?

because i don't think he's realized that he isn't, yet.

[vikkirosko]

Can I request Prismo, Scarab, Fiona and reader who is the warden of Citadel Prison?

Character: Treats everything lightly, regardless of the severity of the situation. In battle, she is full of sarcasm, ridiculing opponents, not taking many of them seriously because of the huge difference in strength. You have never had much sympathy for your work, but you use your power: your ruthlessness towards enemies and the destruction you cause are caused by your wastefulness and the unbridled nature of your strength in battle - all justified by your divinity. You are also calm and cool-headed in stressful situations, for example, when fighting with enemies of equal strength. Sometimes you seem overly distracted, for example, chasing fleeing criminals, you put too much energy into a strike that destroys an entire city.But with all this, you have a weakness for children :>

I would like to add that in the past you were an auditor god, and the scarab was sent to you for an internship so that he could take your position, and you were appointed to the post of head of the Citadel. For a thousand years, you did your job flawlessly, but one day, when you had a lunch break, the Lich destroyed the prison and freed all the criminals, and when you returned, it was already over. Then you were put on trial, but they gave you a chance so that you could fix everything.

Here is a drawing of the reader's appearance and I apologize for the huge number of words😅

Thanks ♡

Platonic headcanons The warden of the prison

🐰 Fionna Campbell x fem!Reader 🗡

Having found herself in an unfamiliar world so different from her native one, Fionna did not expect that she would be chased. Scarab wasn't going to leave her alone, but even he didn't know that he wasn't the only one chasing her. This was your chance to make things right. When you were the head of the Citadel, you didn't really like your job, but you did it flawlessly, until recently. You only went to your lunch for a couple of minutes, and when you returned everything was destroyed, the criminals escaped, and the court was waiting for you. But now you had a chance to fix it

You followed the tracks until you got to a strange world where there was no magic. That's where you found Scarab. Only by that time your order had changed. Your bosses wanted you to calm him down, because Scarab lost his temper, after that you could be free. While you were teasing him, saying that you would destroy this world much faster, Fionna was looking at you with wide eyes. You were huge. You had wings instead of arms, and your legs were like a bird's. You were taller than some of the buildings and clearly didn't notice her standing next to you until Fionna also got into a fight with Scarab

When it was over, you wondered what kind of world it was. You've never heard of such a place before. And that's when you finally saw Fionna, who asked you not to destroy anything. Perhaps if it had been someone else, you would have done exactly the opposite out of some harmfulness. But she seemed like just a child to you, even though she was very capable. Compared to you, who were over a thousand years old, she was, she really was a child to you. You just didn't want to see her upset

You no longer had to stay in one place and keep an eye on criminals. You were free, and you decided to use that freedom by staying in the world where Fionna lived. She promised to tell you about the world where she lived and even introduce you to her friends, and you decided for yourself that you would look after her and her world. Considering your previous job, your current idea would be comparable to a simple vacation. You intended to have a proper rest for the first time in a thousand years, and Fionna had the role to keep you company for part of that time

🥒 Prismo x fem!Reader 🖥

You and Prismo knew each other even before you became the head of the Citadel. You used to spend a lot of time together. He was someone you could call your friend and your words would be sincere. But when you got a job, you saw a lot less of each other. Prismo missed you, but he understood that you couldn't leave your post, because otherwise anything could happen

He learned from his friends about what happened to the Citadel and that you were awaiting trial. Prismo found it hard to believe that you could really let the criminals escape so easily. He knew you for a long time and knew that despite the fact that you didn't take a lot of things seriously, you did your job flawlessly for a thousand years. Prismo hoped that you would be okay

He learned about what happened to you directly from you. You followed Scarab, intending to find him on the orders of your bosses. What Scarab did to your friend angered you and you promised Prismo that you would try to free him. You understood that in order to save him, you had to stop Scarab, and you hoped that you could do it as soon as possible

When Prisma was free, he hoped to meet you soon, and you really came. You were free and all charges against you were dropped, so you could afford to make up for the time you didn't see each other

🪲 Scarab x fem!Reader 🗡

Scarab thought highly of you. Once upon a time he was your protégé and since then he has had only a good opinion of you. At least until he found out that the Citadel had been destroyed, the criminals had escaped and you were awaiting trial. He doubted that this would have happened if you had done your job the way you used to, so his opinion of you worsened. He was too busy to figure out what really happened, but he understood that few people could defeat you to free the prisoners

When he sought to destroy a world that should not have existed, he did not know that you were following him. Your bosses decided to give you a chance to correct your mistake and you couldn't miss this chance

Scarab did not expect to see you, but even more he did not expect that you came to calm him down on the orders of the bosses. Scarab was very angry, but you didn't care about it. You deliberately provoked him without even taking your battle seriously. Scarab was too wrapped up in his emotions to notice that you were stronger than him

After the defeat, Scarab was punished for his act. He came under the supervision of Prisma and you. You no longer had your old job, but a new one appeared, which consisted of looking after a single ward. Now you've had a lot of time to put your former protege on the right track

[tavyliasin]

ATG 4 - Dream? Nightmare.

In which a devil dances through Tav's sleep.

----- Summary -----

Pairing: Raphael/Tav SPICE Rating: 1.5/5 (teasing, tension) Content Warnings: No sex, implied power play, some intimidation, implied manipulation (implied only, free will and consent are my priority), alcohol (mild)

Spoilers Set in the middle of Act 2, there is a hint of a character who doesn't appear until Act 3, however no name or details of them. Canon Compliance Canon Whomst? - There is a very slight mention of canon material, with Raphael and Mol in Last Light, as well as a little of the Dream Guardian, but this is largely filling a hole (not literally) that I feel we deserve. I tried to keep close to character attitudes, though, and how they might be reacting. Other Notes Self indulgent and slow burn - one does not simply lay with a demon. But it's laying some groundwork, and I love the back and forth sass. It was also fun to play with Tav in a "dream" where consequences don't matter to her. And of course: Free will, darlings, it is important, and in this House of Hoes we lean hard into that sexy consent.  Song/Mood Paralyzed by Aviators and Lectro Dub "Wicked traps are set around you, Not a lantern lit in sight to guide you home you've been looking for the danger and you sense my presence chilling in your bones Take your stance, I will give you one fair chance, So let's make this dance a bloody masquerade. Understand how this ends, and what I am, You're against the night itself so be afraid. That adrenaline rush when weapons fly, It's the fear that brings out that body high So you know that I'm stuck here paralyzed with you." ----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

Tavylia was exhausted, or perhaps something several levels past simply exhausted. The sheer effort of staying conscious was an insurmountable task after all the last few weeks had brought. At least they'd found the Inn, one small piece of safety in the cursed Shadowlands, a haven of light and well supplied with alcohol. Thank the gods for small blessings , she had thought as she casually swiped multiple dusty bottles from unattended shelves. 

Of course not everything in the Inn was peaceful. That smug bastard Raphael had made himself known once more, another tempting offer and another battle of wits between sharp tongues had followed. Tav hoped that young Mol was as smart as she claimed, she would need to be if she truly wanted to outsmart a literal devil and make a contract with him. Tav ruefully took another swig of wine. It had soured a little, but it was better than nothing. Raphael , she practically spat the word in her mind, what the fuck do you want with ME? 

It was truly baffling. Here was a cambion who could easily step in and out of Avernus just to…what? Annoy her somewhat? Get under her skin with false promises? He had already tried to strike a deal to remove the mindflayer tadpoles from her brain, and her companions' too of course, but she had held out hope that perhaps the druid Halsin might heal them or that Lae'zel's fellow Githyanki could solve it. Instead, they'd found the Githyanki solution was to sacrifice themselves to the Lich queen hoping to become a god to the gith, a fate which only the strange dream guardian had saved them from. Halsin also had no answer for them, but at least he stayed around to help regardless. His huge form was hardly an unwelcome site to several wandering eyes in camp, her own included…

So. The tadpole deal wasn't going to cut it, there felt like a catch… Besides, as long as they had the Guardian and the strange object that held them, they were safe from that. Some of the tadpole's powers were also proving useful, and Rule 1, of course, is to survive. Another riddle, there. Why was Raphael interested in their survival anyway? This new deal hardly seemed to be that beneficial to him, unless there was a loophole she hadn't spotted yet. A shiver ran down her spine. They had already accepted the terms: defeat the devil's old enemy sealed beneath a temple, and he would tell them the meaning of the scars on Astarion's back. The supposed "poem" carved by his vampire master Cazador. But surely if he wanted to, Raphael could defeat some old enemy, and Tav doubted that the campion bastard would send them to their deaths either. There had to be something else, some other reason…

Another swig of bitter wine and she let the empty bottle fall to the floor with a gentle thud. Her eyes weren't going to stay open any longer like this, and she was far too tired to simply meditate through her rest as elves often chose to do. No, tonight the wine would suffice as a potion of sleep, given that she was immune to the real thing. Darkness closed in as the last candle in the dim Inn room winked out. 

---

Tav knew she was dreaming. Probably. These were no longer the cursed Shadowlands around her, nor the battered coastline they had traipsed across, or the dank Underdark that stood as their path between the two. This was…home? As close to one as she could recall. The Lower City of Baldur's Gate, close to the docks where the sound of the sea echoed through the numerous cracks in the walls.

"Hardly a mansion, is it? Is this really how you lived?" The snide voice could only have come from one mouth, the corners already curling in a derisive smile beneath deceptively disarming raised brows. Raphael laughed. "No wonder you weren't complaining about that pitiful hovel you're actually sleeping in, Little Mouse."

Tav began to feel that his dream likeness was a little too unnerving for her taste, but this was her dream, so she had control. "If you don't like my house, the door is right there. I wouldn't expect a spoiled devil brat to understand, anyway. Home is what I make of it, it is wherever I decide it to be. And yes, for a time, this was my mansion. " 

"Well pardon my dreadful manners, though this is hardly the same hospitality I offered you when you visited my home." His voice kept treading the fine line between derision and allure, something which felt entirely too natural.

"Then you'll just have to excuse me for not enchanting a loaf of stale bread and some stagnant water to appear as a feast to trick you into some infernal deal - if you wanted luxury, you chose the wrong elf."

"Luxury, Little Mouse, I have plenty of at home. And as for the feast, well one can have an appetite for more than just food - I'm sure you've learned this well from your little fanged fling." His eyes travelled up and down her form, making Tav feel even more under-dressed in her own home…dream…whatever this was meant to be. Raphael's human form was, as always, immaculately well dressed and groomed, chestnut hair swept neatly back just barely grazing the edge of his ruffled collar. "So, perhaps you might reconsider what you might put on the table, hmm?"

Tav gave the thought more consideration than she otherwise might have, had she not partaken of quite so much overly-vintage red so close to bed. Curiosity, they said, killed the cat. But according to Raphael, he was the cat, and she was simply a Little Mouse . Which meant, perhaps, that curiosity was not the trap being set for her, but instead might ensnare the demon himself. Turning the tables could be an interesting dream, after all.

Raphael simply sat back in his chair, watching, waiting, while Tav cleared away the few chipped bits of crockery that were strewn across the table, wiping away the dust with the edge of her ragged sleeve. 

"Well, perhaps we could do a little better with your outfit, at least." With a snap of his fingers, Tav felt the fabrics change from the rough and ill-fitted cotton taken from some hapless fool's washing line and into something far more…fitted. Silk draped over her curves, enhancing her form and showing every line of her body in what she assumed by the low whistle from the uninvited guest was at least a little attractive. For a moment, she applauded her self confidence for imagining this, before cursing it for spiking her curiosity more.

First a vampire, now…a devil? Hah, in my dreams, I suppose. 

"A soul coin for your thoughts, Little Mouse?" Raphael had his boots on the table now, making himself quite at home. 

"If you must know, you bizarre figment of my imagination, I am wondering exactly why you have such an interest in some pitiful peasant elf who just happened to get stuck with a bloody tadpole in her brain." She sat on the table itself, pushing his all too fancy shoes back off her furniture and earning another derisive laugh.

"You're fascinating . Full of surprises and contradictions. I thought perhaps you were desperate to survive, ready to take my first deal. But that would have been too easy, now, wouldn't it... So now you get a taste, agreeing to a simple task to help your toy, and that's exactly what I'm doing. It is such fun to watch you scurry about, Little Mouse, stealing some cheese here, yet baring your little teeth at evil over there just to do the smallest amount of good, even if it won't last. In the one moment, you're selfish to the core, serving your needs first, but the next you're putting your very life on the line for some hapless fools once more! How could I not be intrigued by the possibilities? Like right now, there you sit speaking to me as if I am beneath you, and yet in the same breath vastly underestimating yourself." 

"I'm glad I'm proving to be so amusing to you, demon, but I was hoping for more pleasant dreams. So if you wouldn't mind-"

"Ah, were you expecting another chat with your so called Guardian, hmm?" He laughed, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. "A tiefling, aren't they? Is that more to your liking, then, the horns and the tail?"

"They're a useful tool, nothing more." She paused. "Though even a tool can be attractive, I suppose."

"So you do understand how I see you, then." He sat forwards now, face and body growing slightly and warping to his demonic red form, wings unfolding behind him. "I cannot wait to put you to use. "

His true form's eyes looked like lit fires burned within them, gaze piercing her soul, almost as if it were a real fire heating her body from within. Had the drafty old house by the sea always been this warm?...

Raphael's hands enveloped Tav's, pinning them to the table as he rose above her, glowing eyes looking down with an unexpected curiosity, as if he wasn't sure what he was planning himself. "For a dream, you seem…vivid. Normally by now this scene would've shifted to some nightmare dredged up by my memories, or perhaps of late to my Guardian's domain for one of their midnight chats…" 

"Little Mouse, I can be either a dream or a nightmare, that choice is yours to make. But rest assured, I shall let neither memories nor Guardian intrude on our little Soiree tonight." The pressure released from her hands as he stood fully and instead extended his fingers towards her, a gesture born of high society etiquette. A song she had never heard began to echo in Tav's ears, the haunting melody that prickled that sense of danger deep within her. A sense that had begun to feel more enticing than perilous, thanks in no small part to her time with Astarion. "Well, would you care to join me for a dance, Little Mouse?"

The room grew and shifted as she stood from the table, a shiver of anticipation running through her entire being as she took his hand, accepting the invitation. The surroundings became like nothing she had ever seen before, a vast ballroom with shadows waltzing around them, yet none getting close enough to make her feel crowded. The decorations felt as unreal and shifting as any dream, becoming more like feelings than clear details. An atmosphere just suited to dance with a devil. “You surprise me,” Tav said, as they began to move around the ballroom to the hauntingly beautiful music, “you’re surely more than powerful enough to take whatever you want, and yet you always ask. ” “Free will, Little Mouse, is far more interesting than a simple spell to compel you to follow my orders like a mindless beast.” His arm curled around her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt as if their feet barely touched the floor at all as they continued their dance. Both literally and metaphorically, she might’ve thought, if she wasn’t listening between every word and line seeking for his real meaning. “Free will?” she echoed, still unwilling to break eye contact.

“Free. Will. Where is the game, where is the challenge without it? How little you understand of the thrill of catching someone in your web and drawing them ever closer, knowing that every step they take has been on of their own choosing.” As if to emphasise his point, Raphael allowed her to spin lightly away, one hand still entwined with hers, but did not pull to draw her back in.

Tav felt herself dancing back into his embrace once more, his arm on her waist ensnaring her even tighter this time, a slight sound leaving her lips unbidden at the feel of their bodies pressed more closely together. The vibrations of his low chuckle resonated through her ribs.

“See, Little Mouse, here you are, entirely of your own accord. And why? Hoping to learn a few of my secrets, are you?” The smug look on his face was becoming almost unbearable now, but Tav drew on the deepest parts of her courage to respond.

“Everything is of my choosing, isn’t it.” She mused quietly, an idea forming quickly in her mind, not breaking eye contact for a second. “I could simply choose to leave, or ignore you, or let my dream take another shape. Or instead I could follow whatever whim I like.”

She unlaced their fingers and took her other hand from his waist, reaching up on the tips of her toes and taking a firm grip of his horns to pull his face down towards her. If she had been paying attention, she would’ve seen the smug look melt away to be replaced with something between utter confusion and unexpected anticipation, but she wasn’t wasting a single beat of the melody that still swirled around them. She caught his lips in a kiss, pressing her body against his, taking a tentative taste of his lips.

If fire had a flavour, that would’ve been how she described the taste, with a hint of the same cherry that lingered in the air around him wherever he went. Blissfully the sulphur was masked by this, though she assumed that her dream would give her everything she imagined in the way she wanted it most. And, Gods, was she now painfully aware of what she wanted.

Intoxicating. That was the only way to describe the feeling when Raphael began to return her kiss. Different to the heated passion and whispering words of love that Astarion pressed to her lips… No, this was greed. A far simpler riddle to solve than any of the devil’s other motivations. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her body perhaps a little too firmly against his own, wings encircling the pair now as their latest dance began.

The music shifted, swayed, the unseen orchestra swelling with new chords that should’ve alarmed Tav…but her own choir was already singing to the tune. A casual observer might begin to wonder if what they saw in that formless ballroom was a kiss or a battle, but both answers would be correct.

Rogue and Demon were stubborn to a fault, each seeking to out-do the other, each probing the other for answers even though their questions were vastly different. For Tav, it was “how far can this dream go before I wake?” , yet for Raphael he wondered instead “why can I not get this infuriating Little Mouse out of my head…what is it that’s keeping me here?”

Unfortunately, perhaps for both, only one would get their answer, as the music swiftly subsided just as they might have gone further.

“Pity.” Raphael hissed, as he broke away from Tav and allowed them both to drift back to the floor. “It seems we will have to put this little thought on hold, it seems you have another caller on the line.”

“What?” Tav couldn’t keep the confusion from her breathless reply, the taste of burning cherry still dancing across her tastebuds.

“Your supposed Guardian is requesting an audience, I don’t think they’re willing to indulge you in another moment’s peace.” He frowned, reverting back to the more human cambion form in which he had first appeared that night. “Perhaps some other time, Little Mouse, you might care to sample a finer meal.”

With one final snap of his fingers, the scenery melted away into smoke, as Tav felt her dream lurch unsettlingly into the Guardian’s domain.

---

The rocks Tav stood upon floated through space, the sounds of distant battle echoing across the stars around her. She silently cursed the timing of her secretive “saviour”, and wondered for a fleeting moment how much they might’ve seen. They appeared beside her, stepping from a shadow, their golden armour now sparkling in the light. Their voice was soft, warm, a strange kind of comfort in all kinds of times. It was now that Tav realised, much to her relief, that her appearance had reverted to her simple camp clothes that she slept in. A silk gown didn’t feel fitting for the serious look on the face before her.

“Sit, please. I do not know how long we will have, but I would like to talk.” Two-toned eyes peered at her face, filled with concern. “Your heart was racing, but your mind…was closed to me.” “Oh, that - I was just sleeping. Nothing but a dream, I’m fine. Really.” Sitting now beside them, Tav laid a hand on their shoulder. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.” “Are you certain that was all there was to it? A dream?” They shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through the long hair that flowed down to their shoulders, parted slightly around the horns that curved around from their forehead to their ears like those of a ram. “I…do not like to pry, we all deserve our secrets, after all, but usually if I so wished I could see your dreams.” “You do seem to have more secrets than most. But that’s strange… Why might that be closed to you? You’ve been able to see through my eyes plenty of times in the waking world without issue, and if dreams are the same…” A thought was beginning to occur to Tav, one that she was extremely willing to shut down before it could take root and expand into startling and terrifying realisations. “Only powerful magic could prevent the connection we share, our bond is one that cannot be easily overcome.” The Guardian tilted their head quizzically, seeming to assess Tav as her thoughts began to sprint down the forbidden path to the uncomfortable truth. “What is it? Are you sure there isn’t something wrong?” “Oh. Oh fuck.” Tav’s conscious mind had run directly into a large stone wall, and the writing upon it was crystal clear. She continued, mumbling more to herself than as any kind of response to the tiefling warrior by her side. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. How did I not realise that it was possible? What was in that wine? Is that what he did?...”

The Guardian remained silent, simply laying a quiet hand upon Tav’s as she processed the horrifying culmination of each of her actions, one after the other. 

“Spoiled devil brat, I called him, right before falling into his seductive little game as easily as if we were playing Lanceboard. Shit…SHIT!   Bizarre figment of my imagination, I called him that too, right before suggesting he was an attractive tool and-”

Her mind was reeling, turning over every word in detail, knowing they were not in fact spoken to an apparition but likely all too directly to the one devil she could not afford to cross. The Guardian stayed with her still, a strange comforting presence, even as she sank even deeper into her thoughts, speaking them in barely a whisper now. “Gods, I actually danced with a devil…I kissed him - what the fuck was I thinking?! The signs were there, how did I not notice? My mind can’t conjure images I’ve never seen, music I’ve never heard…” A look between amusement and confusion coloured the Guardian’s features, but they remained with Tav. They didn’t leave until the dawn woke her, staying right beside her, a few tentative gestures attempting to soothe her worries. Not that she noticed, of course. In fact, the one key thing in all her panic that Tav had completely failed to notice, was how Raphael had reacted. It wasn’t some dream of her own that had conjured his actions, and neither of them had a single clue yet of what that might lead to.

---

Meanwhile, in Avernus, a shimmering door made of pure magic managed to slam shut, despite having no corporeal form. Raphael didn’t enter with his usual confident swagger, but instead damn near stormed into his lavish bedchamber with a fury hotter than all the Nine Hells.

A familiar voice called out to him from where its owner reclined upon silken sheets, awaiting his return. “Did you enjoy your little trip?”

“Shut up, Harlot. ” Raphael spat back at his companion, earning a dark laugh from the latter.

“My my, name calling, is it now? She must have really got under your skin this time.” Another laugh echoed from the walls, an edge more of cruelty slipping into the tone now. “How about you stop your whining now, I’m sure we would both rather have you moaning instead. And with my proper name, if you please, Archduke. ”

----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- ----------- The end section there will be back, I left it as a nice little setup and introduction. It was also my first time writing any lines for Haarlep and that dynamic...I have since become addicted to it, obviously... Ever since I met Raphael in game, like so many others it was one eyebrow raise and his speech patterns and I was done for, down for the count, a bad case of Devil Fever and no wish for a cure~ We also get more insight into Tav's past here. I don't have a huge amount of detail into the specifics, but surviving alone from the age she did was never an easy thing. Desperation could've brought him to her door sooner, but she held her own better than even she expected. In terms of those details, honestly I am happy for you all to insert whatever headcanons feel right to you for Tav as a character. She's headstrong, wilful, and hedonistic, but all of that came at a cost. She had to learn to make and enforce her own choices, and to seize what pleasures in life she could before they slip away again. Everything is only ever temporary in Tav's world, she's truly going one day to the next, because the whims of Fate never give her a chance to do anything else.

[fangsandfeels]

Honestly, I can imagine Jerra being more concerned about Withers than a vampire spawn in their midst. In her opinion, Astarion became a lot less unsettling once his true nature got revealed; it was also the first time she saw a vampire who, after being caught red-fanged, would trip over his feet trying to get away from her instead of going for her jugular before she can wake up fully or alert the others. She could have stabbed him at least three times when he was feeding on her. It's not that Astarion wasn't dangerous. He certainly was. But at the same time, he was manageable, and as long as he stayed true to his promise to feed on enemies only, she had no problem with him.

But Withers though? A powerful undead being connected to divinity? An entity who would come and go as it pleased, who found their camp without any problem? What is his deal? She didn't even try to tell him to leave their camp because she knew it was a task in futility. If he rose from his tomb and spoke to her as if he knew her, if he kept following them regardless of where they went, then it was not like her words would dissuade him. He may not have been with the Absolute, but they found him in the temple dedicated to forgotten gods, so who knows what deity had plans for them? She doesn't even know who started calling him Withers? Who came up with the nickname? Was it her? Was it Astarion? Gale?

And she could swear, sometimes the old lich was messing with her specifically.

Like, she is minding her own business, sipping coffee from her mug, trying to wake herself up for the morning (at least, her biological rhythms tell her it should be morning in these Shadow-Cursed lands). And then, out of nowhere, she hears "Thou hast now a bosom-companion...", turns around, sees Withers just standing there and telling her not to get distracted by the comforts of the flesh while waving his bony finger at her like he is her well-meaning grandpa and it then it hits her that he is talking about her and Astarion and it almost makes her spit her drink because what the actual fuck.

How would he know? Was he eavesdropping? Did he watch them? How long has he been watching them? What have you been writing down in that scroll of yours, Bone Man?

[pheonyxian]

Baldur's Gate 3 Sexless Any% Part 3

I think some of my mutuals are using this as an actual way of knowing what BG3 is actually about so I figured I'd use this edition to talk about the plot and npcs a bit. Might slow down or stop these at some point? I thought the original premise was funny but I don't know if it's liveblog an entire 100 hour game funny. Regardless feel free to block the tag I'm adding if you don't want to hear any future rambles. Do love/hate it when a game I didn't intend to like so much gets its grubby mind flayer tentacles wrapped around my brain so hard.

The OC PC: RPing through the game as my OC Ank. I wasn't sure if picking an oc with strong psychic powers would rub against the mind flayer plot but so far it's been a perfect choice. Ank is traditionally a villain but I'm not playing a villain for my first play through, so it's been fun to rp him in a scenario where he's g o o d and his life didn't take a turn for the worse. He's also traditionally blind, but obviously the game isn't set up for that. I was originally just imagining cutscenes playing out differently if sight was involved, but maybe it'll be more interesting to consider him in a pre-blinded state. I'm sure certain repeated actions in the ocular region won't have any u n f o r t u n a t e effects.

Mind Flayers: The setup for the plot is that mind flayers have infected you (and your companions, and a large number of npcs) with mind flayer parasites and you have to remove them before you turn into fully grown mind flayers. Except for some reason you haven't turned yet and you get cool psychic powers with them.

The Guardian: In addition to making your own character at start, you also can character create your "guardian." Everyone I know just hits the randomize button because they've already spent an hour fussing over every detail of their character, but I knew this was coming and already planned my guardian out. And uh, like I said, Ank's traditionally a villain and the only guardian-like character he's ever had is uh... I'm going to be honest with you, if the guardian turns out to be the big bad of the game that's going to be funny as all fuck. I'm sure there's very little chance of that though, it's not like there's anything evil about telling you to s h o v e w o r m s i n t o y o u r s k u l l.

Withers: Withers is more of a mechanic than a character. I do want to know his story though. He's an undead or lich or something who will revive dead characters (for a cost) hire generic undead companions (for a cost, I guess if you want to resign your poor companion's unfortunate fate) and change your cast (for the same cost as undead friends.) I guess money still has use in the afterlife. I haven't had to use his services yet but I've had a lot of close calls and dwindling Revivify scrolls so it's only a matter of time.

Volo: Just Gale but a bard. Not a playable character Bard mind you. At least not yet. I don't know what his deal is. He offered to extract the mind flayer parasites with a pair of needles which I almost agreed to to see if he'd actually poke Ank's eye out.

And updates on companion stories:

Shadowheart: Decided that after a week of traveling and nearly dying together it was appropriate to breach topics again. Pretty sure the game expected me to ask these immediately once the option was available but like I said, we respect boundaries in this house. Anyway, Shadowheart's a cleric of Shar, who by context I'm assuming is bad. The way she put her worship didn't sound that bad, about embracing the darkness as a way of stripping falsehoods, right up until she started talking about toppling governments and killing innocents, so I'm keeping her at a 2/10 for being batshit insane.

Also her magical artifact is required for keeping me alive and she stole it and do we really want the e v i l cleric to have that kind of p o w e r over M E?

Lae'zel: Lae'zel sits at the very strange crossroad of honorable and completely ruthless. She's totally fine with killing your enemies but you have to do it the right way, and b r a i n w o r m s isn't the right way. I'd say the right way is whatever works. 7/10

Gale: All of my attempts to pry into Gale's backstory (boundaries? what boundaries?) were foiled by poor dice rolls so no updates on his dark and traumatic past. I did give him two magical artifacts to slurp up because he looked like he was going to die of heat stroke at camp. I've been avoiding spoilers but I had heard that it's hilariously difficult to not accidentally romance Gale due to a bug, and the fact that you can start his romance path without realizing it. Thankfully Ank is smart enough to realize that when you cast spells together that makes the air smell like rosewater it's time to high tail it out of there. 2/10 as smooth as a slip n' slide.

That said, I don't know if it's been patched yet, but according to the internet there's like a 50/50 chance the game thinks we've already banged. Tbd on that one. Sexless any% is slowly turning into Oops! Fucked Everyone thanks purely on technicalities.

Astarion: Based on the way people talk about him I genuinely thought the pompous personality was just a facade and that he'll eventually tip his hand and reveal he's been evil this entire time. But honestly based the bits of backstory he's (refreshingly, compared to the rest of these idiots) given out I think he's just the guy who, once given the keys to power, will drive right off sanity road. Regardless, he used to serve an abusive vampire lord so I guess we're going vampire hunting in the future. 10/10 bad influence gay best friend who tells you to chug and shove parasites up your eyes.

Wyll: Wyll is a warlock who serves a fiend that forces him to hunt down and kill demons, which sounds like a fine deal until some tricky wordplay came in. After refusing to kill Karlach (Tiefling, not demon) his patron changed him into a Tiefling too. Honestly? Upgrade. 6/10 nice guy but surrounded by more colorful characters.

Karlach: Ok here’s why Karlach is a 10/10 character even without taking sex appeal into consideration. She’s a Tiefling who served in some demonic war against her will and had her heart replaced with an infernal engine that constantly burns her and anyone she touches with searing hot pain. Despite this she has constant big sister energy and her biggest complaint is how touch starved she is. I don’t even care if it comes bundled with a sex scene, Karlach is getting a goddamn hug before the credits roll.

[firstcursearch]

 𝚅𝙴𝙲𝙽𝙰 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙾 𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙰𝙿 ::

Something  to  mention  about  Vecna  cos  I  know  the  ST  fandom  is  always  having  normal  ones  and  Vecna/Henry  as  a  character  is  a  subject  of  MUCH  controversy  due  to  the  fandoms  inability  to  understand  anything  about  him:  oof  level  large.  

But  I  wanted  to  mention,  as  far  as  my  portrayal  goes,  Vecna  is  in  fact  "undead"  I've  seen  this  debated  a  few  times,  but  regardless  to  what  Vecna  said  in  his  scene  with  Eleven,  I  severely  doubt  Vecna's  "alive"  in  a  normal  way.  The  scene  I'm  referencing  being  the  one  in  the  piggyback  where  Eleven  threatens  Vecna  by  saying  she  would   kill  him  again  if  he  touches  Max  and  Vecna  saying  "Is  that  what  you  did?"   The  way  I  see  it  is,  Eleven  did  kill  him  in  a  way,  but  obviously  not  in  the  way  she  thought  she  did  and  Vecna  was  taking  the  piss.  

Theres  a  few  reasons  for  my  thoughts  here,  not  just  because  of  the  fact  Vecna  is  meant  to  represent  the  undead  lich  god  of  DnD  but  also  because  I  think  it  would  be  pretty  much  impossible  for  Henry  to  survive  his  "fall"  into  the  Upside  Down,  never  mind  the  multiple  lighting  strikes  that  burned  and  deformed  him  along  the  way,  like  the  man  went  Through  It  and  I  don't  think  he  "lived"  in  a  normal  way  because  it  makes  no  sense  logically  OR  aesthetically.  

Because  heres  the  other  thing,  in  the  original  script,  and  the  way  the  scene  was  ORGINALLY  suppose  to  go,  Henry  was  transformed  into  Vecna  nearly  the  moment  he  was  thrown  into  the  Upside  Down.  This  is  extremely  notable  to  me  for  two  reasons.  1)  It  shows  that  the  whatever  was  in  the  Upside  Down  (  The  Mindflayer.  you  guys,  like,  fr,  its  the  Mindflayer.  )  was  alive,  conscious,  and  calculating  before  Henry  even  knew  what  was  going  on  /  happening  to  him  and  2)  It  puts  a  more  logical  bridge  between  Henry  >  Vecna.  

Unfortunately,  due  to  not  wanting  to  spend  a  packet  on  CGI,  this  scene  was  tweaked  a  little  and  we  only  saw  Henry  get  struck  by  the  "lighting"  and  then  wandered  around  all  fucked  up  and  zombie  like  (  and  like,  this  calls  a  direct  parallel  to  Will's  "zombie  boy"  picture  from  season  1,  if  anyone  noticed,  and  probably  the  only  reason  I'm  not  bitter  about  the  slight  change  they  had  to  make  to  this  because  I  really  like  that  little  nod  to  S1.  )

But  note  to  everyone,  that  was  not  was  never  intended  to  be  perceived  as  normal  lighting.    It  was  always  "part"  of  the  Mindflayer.  If  that  was  "normal  lighting"  Henry  would  have  just  been  roasted,  end  of  story.  But  he  wasn't.  Not  only  did  these  multiple,  severely  damaging/deforming  lighting  strikes  NOT  kill  him,  he  was  somehow  able  to  survive  a  "fall"  that  seemed  to  be  100s  of  feet  through  the  crazy  ass  alien  atmosphere.  

So  yeah,  in  the  original  script  Henry  was  not  just  struck  by  the  supernatural  lighting.  The  vines  ""attacked""  him  as  well,  ripping  off  his  clothes  and  entering  his  body,  hence  turning  him  into  "Vecna".   And  obviously,  even  though  the  scene  was  changed  be  a  little  less  horrific  and  save  money,  this  still  had  to  have  happened  at  some  point  given  Vecna  is  literally  a  semi-rotted  corpse  with  those  freakish  vines  crawling  through  and  underneath  his  skin.  

And  honestly  the  fandom  thinks  Vecna  is  the  one  who  controls  the  "vines"  but  this  honestly  proves  he  doesn't  and  even  with  the  change  of  the  scene  in  canon,  we  see  the  vines  are  are  behaving  sentient  and  the  same  way  they  always  have  before  Henry  got  to  the  Upside  down,  as  they're  shown  trying  to  hold  the  portal  open  and  get  through  in  the  scene  when  Eleven  pushes  Henry  into  the  UD. So  as  far  as  my  headcanons  go  Henry's  "link"  with  the  Mindflayer  didn't  happen  when  he  "found"  its  "cloud  form"  in  the  UD.  It  happened  as  early  as  the  lightening  strikes

 (  Because  they  are  PART  of  the  Mindflayer  and  we  do  see  this  in  canon  as  well  )  and  is  the  reason  for  his  undeath  and  pseudo-immortality.  (  Although,  technically  in  my  headcanon  he  was  linked  with  the  mindflayer  since  his  time  in  the  Creel  house  as  a  child  but  what  I  mean  here  is  this  is  the  moment  that  solidified  him  becoming  "one"  with  the  entity.  ) Vecna  also  kind  of  confirms  this  himself  because  he  does  tell  Eleven  it  was  the  Mindflayer  that  caused  him  to  "ascend"  his  human  form.

(    Essentially  in  my  take,  Vecna  isn't  really  alive  anymore,  and  the  only  way  to  "kill"  him  is  if  his  connection  with  Mindflayer  was  broken  and  EVEN  THEN  I  do  believe  the  MF  could  just  reanimate  him  as  it  wanted.  You  know  all  that  puppet  imagery  with  Vecna  exists  for  a  reason  and  not  the  way  this  fandom  thinks,  but  don't  ask  me  how  it  all  flew  over  their  heads,  the  lack  of  media  literacy  out  here  is  truly  remarkable,  imo,  this  fandom  needs  to  be  studied  in  a  lab  because  its  something  new.  ) I'm  also  not  saying  Vecna  doesn't  have  his  own  consciousness  because  he  does,  but  he  is  also  heavily  poisoned  by  and  integrated  with  the  "hive  mind."  I'm  not  sure  I  would  say  he  even  realizes  the  true  extent  of  it.  

Obviously  my  take  is  ultimately  NOT  that  Vecna  possessed  the  Mindflayer,  rather,  more  the  other  way  around.  Like,  it  really  makes  sense  and  I  can't  come  at  the  idea  that  Vecna's  just  a  dude  having  a  bad  hair,  skin,  eyes  and  nose  day.  Like  on  top  of  the  rest  of  this  shit,  they  shot  him  several  times  with  a  shot  gun  and  set  him  on  fire  and  my  mans  got  up  and  walked  it  off,  he's  def  not  alive/mortal  anymore.  

Which  brings  me  to  something  else,  since  Strode  mentioned  having  Steve  touch  Vecna  in  our  thread  and  I  mentioned  he's  slimy,  so  yeah,  thats  a  thing  for  reference  ! Texture  wise  Vecna  is  cold,  moist  and,  yes,  kind  of  slimy.  He  would  feel  like  touching  a  frog  or  a  slug  if  either  of  those  creatures  were  very    cold.  Most  of  his  body  is  soft,  but  the  vines  and  things  are  more  firm    (  kind  of  like  rubber  tubing  )  

 The  particularly  mutated  parts  are  cold  and  hard  like  bone.    His  big  claw  hand  is  a  good  example  of  this.  He  also  has  other  bony  /    keratin  protrusions  as  well  that  are  growing  out  of  him  in  the  form  of  "spines"  or  horns  but  they're  in  random  places.  Theres  a  very  pronounced  patch  running  along  one  of  his  shoulders  though.

The  parts  of  Vecna  that  aren't  gangrenated  /  black/brown/rubbery  thanks  to  the  presence  of  the  vines,  is  ghostly  pale,  and  his  veins  are  VERY  obvious  because  they're  literally  black  (  Along  with  the  "rot",  this  is  another  feature  we've  seen  before  on  those  that  have  been  "possessed"  by  the  mindflayer:  See  Billy  and  Will.  Vecna  is  just  most  extreme  and  prolonged  example  of  this  "corroding"  /  mutating  effect  the  MF  has  on  its  hosts.  )

  The  more  obviously  "human"  parts  of  his  skin  that  haven't  been  "burned"  and  made  leathery  are  the  parts  that  are  soft.  He  is  just  so  fucking  textured  its  unreal  and  of  course  he  also  has  a  smell  about  him  thats  very  distinct.  Its  mossy/moldy.  Think  like  Mildewy.  Kind  of  stagnant  water  mixed  with  that  hint  of  decay.  Not  exactly  strong  enough  to  make  you  gag  but  its  definitely  a  thing.  

Oh  and  of  course  all  Vecna's  bodily  fluids  are  black.  His  blood  looks  like  tar    (  has  a  similar  thick  consistency  too  )    and  his  spit  looks  like  he  gargled  black  ink,  so  yeah.   LASTLY,  again  for  the  reference,  Vecna's  eyes  are  notable  because  though  they're  still  obviously  in  his  head, one is extremely pale/cataracted and  the other seems  to  have  a  bit  of  an  unnatural  "glow".

 (  Though  not  in  a  luminous  way,  its  just  unusually  bright  blue ).  In fact, he is blind.  but  somehow  he  sees  just  fine via straight  up  psychic  perception  for  Vecna  now  but,  yeah !  I  figured  it  be  good  to  mention  this  as  referential  for  anyone  who  RPs  with  him  and  wants  to  describe  his  presence  and  such.  

[isleofancients]

an extended moment of silence, looking from Q, to him. "respectable," they mutter at last, slumping slowly, regardless. "okay. it's, a lot. but here goes."

"Kiru is Nouveau's creator," the words sound dull to them, and feel hollow. "I mentioned that she was used to seal the spreading nothing, but I don't blame you if you don't remember. You were kind of shaken at the time. Pink is this multiverse's Fresh- er, not- I mean, he was the main? Original? Probably anyway... Just, know that he was the one Q knew, and still knows. The one who was in her head right before he... jettisoned, as I remember it, and threw her in." A sigh, shifting their wings enough to nearly block them from view. Definitely hiding, whether they recognized it or not. "It was fourth wall stuff, from my end. So my memory's not exactly perfect."

"But. Umbra and Happy..."

"When Umbra finally met Q face to face- I guess he hadn't until then- it sounds like he had a pure fear response. Like a man looking into the face of the devil himself, from the way Q described his reaction. From everything Umbra knew, and everything Q had been told, that multiverse's Error-" the words trail off into a quiet, "you know," before continuing with, "But I guess neither of them knew what to make of the reaction."

"-after i got back, i'd, uh, showered. and... spent some time with Green." Definitely a trace of guilt, here. "I should've gone straight to check on Happy, but- since I still had time before he'd need more candy-"

"after Dŵr. I just wanted to hold onto my emerald for a while. a couple hours. just-"

A hesitation, then a sigh. "And I guess Huitzi took Happy to meet Q at some point while I wasn't around. Happy, he got protective. Saw Q and refused to let Huitzi near him. Glared, got glowery... created way too much light and even left strings of light-stuff over Q's doorway. Pretty much made it clear that that meeting wasn't happening."

"-considering the uh, the likely 'relationship' between Dŵr and Flare? It made sense. But again... no one knew that. I was, honestly surprised that Q didn't know anything," this, a bit distracted, as they reflect on it again. "He keeps an eye on stuff around the center, and him not seeing me get picked up or dropped off, or-" a half hearted shrug.

"I told him that there had been two Errors in that multiverse. And some stuff about Dŵr."

"...probably I shouldn't have. Considering, this."

Quiet follows for all of a moment, before the lich shifts, forcing themself to lower their wings enough to look over them... at the doctor. at their friend.

"I've had reason to believe that Kiru was lying about being Q's creator," they admit, the words... dreading, at the very least. "So I told him that, and asked for his help proving it. Getting answers. It wasn't something I could do alone-"

"He uh, didn't give it much credit. But he and I still went to the most recent world that I was sure she'd created, so he could cross examine its code against his own, for her 'signature.'"

"... I don't remember exactly what order we talked about stuff in. Or even everything that was said. I did tell him that I'd seen Dŵr, and was certain the guy was his alternate. I mentioned too what Kiru had done to Glaze's soul- how she'd fucked with it to force her ship-"

"That was about the time he stood up, and said that the code wasn't a match. He'd already been acting stiff, sort of jerky in his movements, and I hadn't made the connection that something was wrong." Their lips thin briefly, as their gaze turns to the prone Q, then away again, clearly feeling guilty. "He said he was going to talk to Pink, and dropped me back off at the center."

"-but like I said, he was only gone for seconds. Then he came back like this, just falling into his bed. I kinda, panicked. Pleaded with him not to crash. And when it was clear that that wasn't going to work..."

"I, called you."

Rasse nods as you speak, logging the information away. He grabs a scanner and holds it over Q's heaving chest, carefully wiping away the sweat beading on his feverish brow.

"The kind of spell Kiru used on them is quite insidious." He says conversationally. "It digs deep into the soul, lodging with many small arms extended like roots to many areas, but mostly to the section of magic regarding memory, emotional regulation, and inhibition."

The scanner goes off like a siren and Rasse nods, pocketing it.

"It forcibly alters the victims perspective towards the intended target to encourage romantic inclinations as well as stunts their ability to hold themselves back from acting on it. It makes them wish to mold themselves to suit their intended and removes the capacity to refuse them." He says, raising the sides of the cot and leaning down to unlock the rolling brakes. "The change is gradual but dramatic enough for those closest to notice, but if they bring it up or dare to suggest they are being bewitched, it makes them fervently deny it and if insisted upon they will become enraged and push them away, sometime violently. The only way for them to realize they've been cursed is if they do so themselves. This partially breaks the spell but also the soul itself, the roots of the magic woven too intricately through to do anything but shatter it."

"It is survivable," He says. "But will leave them changed. Their memory of the relationship will become twisted, their emotions will dramatically heighten and the inhibition needed to resist those emotions will be significantly weakened. This will improve given time, but whatever is done first will likely be something they regret forever. But, luckily, you found Q unconscious. And even more luckily, the majority of the damage can be repaired with immediate but extensive soul surgery. And that happens to be my specialty."

"I'm prescribing you a large dose of comfort and affection." Rasse says, rolling Q down towards the familiar surgery door. "Please go fill it with your nearest friend or loved one."

"He would've found out eventually." He says softer, sparing you a gentle smile. "But thanks to you, he has a chance to survive intact. You did not cause this, Bells. Without you, this might've been so, so much worse."

The surgery doors start to close.

"I'll keep you updated. Stay safe."

They are gone.

[myersbprd]

Seeing a flash of emotion in Lorelai's eyes ( was it culpability? sadness? whatever lay in-between? ) gave John's heart a strange jolt inside his chest. Although part of him wished that he didn't, he knew why: because he wanted to believe that any aspect of him, or the time they had shared together, meant something to her in spite of the way she left.

He almost thought it did, until she continued. ' Maybe I was half-hoping I'd never run into you again. '

And there was the truth of it. For all of the hurt that had come to tinge his memories of Lorelai with her unexplained absence, never had John hoped he wouldn't meet her again. If he could keep it from flickering across his face the second she spoke, he would, yet it was present in his gaze, the press of his lips, the subtle nod of his head. Despite the gratification that landing on a correct answer usually allotted him, none of it appeared now.

"It's not about whether anything can kill you. It doesn't have to cause your death to hurt you, and I'll do whatever I can to make sure it doesn't."

Oh, and John meant it. Regardless of whatever she thought of him, he still carried too many memories not to care — when they met for the first time in the graveyard and she helped him of her own volition, when he had tracked her down at her hotel after she snatched his wallet, meeting for coffee, the two of them working together to stop the Lich, her kissing him and referring to traipsing around an abandoned church a date. He couldn't isolate any of that from the woman standing in front of him, even if he was dubious that he would trust her again; after all, everyone in his life ever left had stayed gone, and it was clear that Lorelai had intended to do the same.

Nevertheless, a twinge of annoyance struck John as her final question replayed in his mind. ' You do know if the buyer wants them, they're going to find another thief to do the job, right? ' A short huff escaped his lips. "Of course I do, I'm not stupid." Perhaps she believed he was. "But we can protect them at the Bureau better than if they were almost anywhere else. That's why we were trying to get them there in the first place."

If nothing else, it appeared that Lorelai believed John, and that was something.

"At the very least, trying to keep them out of the wrong hands is better than giving them over."

Taking a short step forward, he continued, "I know we don't always look at things the same way, but I also know that you care about what happens to innocent people. You've proven it. You helped me before you even really knew me so that I could take the key I found and use it to stop a draugr from killing anyone else. We stopped the Lich together even though you were afraid of it, and now it'll never harm anyone again." He gave a brief shake of his head. "Even if I haven't seen or understood them all, I've seen a lot of different sides of you, Lorelai. And I know that's one."

John's own resolve to sequester away his feelings, to remain undistracted, faltered as his gaze held unwavering on hers. Perhaps keeping them to himself had never been the option that he thought it was.

"But what I want to understand the most right now is — why. You kiss me, you help me, and then you leave. If you changed your mind, or saw some side of me that you didn't like, you could've told me." The question that came next wasn't riddled by sarcasm or malice, but genuine uncertainty. "Or did you leave me at the hospital because I was an inconvenience?" Getting in the way, much like he was right at this second. "At what moment did you decide that you didn't want to ever see me again?"

The atmosphere was tense between them as John finally turned around to face her. It was all too evident that he was forcing something down. She had lived long enough to see and sense when someone was hiding or holding something back. Then he spoke and a part of her wished he had still held back a bit more.

The words stung.

Her eyes glanced up and widened at the brusqueness of his words and how he said them so easily. At least made it appear so. She looked off to the side, caught off-guard at the accuracy of it all. A part of her really didn't want to run into him again. She knew the longer they knew each other, hung out, and spent time together— attachments formed. Strings that could not easily be cut, even painful to cut. Usually only damaged or cut off after the other person... finally moves on.

Strings that even Death can't separate.

She's seen it, a soul mate dies the string still lingers even between the veil. Romantic as it sounds, the fallout is painful for the surviving party. She swallowed when he mentioned he was committed to protecting people. She learned long ago, that's not her job. Helping those and keeping the beings on the other side of the veil, in check, benefited the living. Though, she learned long ago, that Death did not care if she interfered or not. Fate came, or she was their Fate and their Death.

She dared glance back at him when he mentioned he wanted to protect her. She looked away this time rolling her tongue. She didn't need protection. She was practically immortal, to her own detriment. Even if she was stuck, eventually someone would find and free her. However, once again his words pierced through her resilient demeanor.

And I've got no clue if it means anything to you anymore. Ouch!

Her eyes looked back at him once more, this time a bit of guilt and hurt evident. She sighed as she swallowed and looked down and away once more. ❝You know nothing can hurt kill me, John,❞ she finally replied bitterly. She still felt the pain of getting killed. ( Yet the pain never lingered. ) She looked off to the side before sighing. ❝And maybe you're right,❞ she stated. ❝Maybe I was half-hoping I'd never run into you again,❞ she admitted. She paused not sure why she even spoke but it was too late, her words were starting to slip out regardless of what she wanted. ❝I'm not....❞ she paused. A good person, morally righteous? There were so many words she could say. The truth was she wasn't sure what she was. What she wanted to admit. ❝But I get it, so those old crude written notes are that dangerous?❞ she asked.

A part of her suspected. However, she figured the buyer had no means to code them. Another part of her just hoped they were some rich snooty antique dealer who just wanted to own them and flaunt the fact that they owned them.

She suddenly shifted her weight and crossed her arms. ❝You do know if the buyer wants them, they're going to find another thief to do the job, right?❞ she asked bluntly. And there goes my 12 million, she thought.

[eeriestatic]

He was giggling away to himself, the arching eyes of the mask curved higher in emphasis to his amusement. At least she could jest right back, Lios had the tendency to get a bit impatient with people who had a stick up their ass. It made him just want to aggravate them more, but nevertheless he didn't seem to mind that she went full on attention with his belongings. The Lich trusted her not to break or lose anything, given their true value to Lios. He didn't share any further though, instead he tucked and crossed his arms away out of sight - watching her and observing every interactive piece of interest she bore on the items. Even if it seemed to rally back to the photo, little did she know that he was following her attention like a hawk with sensory detection. Though he knew not of what she was looking for, Maya could take as much time as she'd liked with his stuff - but the most interesting observation regarding him had seem to spark his interest further. Maybe so, Maya was about to learn another thing. Instead of speaking right away though, the Lich had decided to follow suit with Maya - kneeling down on the ground before settling cross legged.

His head tilted, focusing most direct attention on her as a person and whole now, like she were the only thing there in the first place - he respectively listened. He hummed gently, regarding what she had to say - despite what she implied of herself. The Lich didn't see her as some handmade road kill as she'd put it. The etched mask seemed to put a bit of slack on itself, eyes almost favouring a squint instead but the smile remained. A titter resounded in regards to her lasting words, but that wasn't the first thing he'd answer - no matter how silly. He was going to share the insight with her at least, that the right observation was provoked.

"Literal. Some of them can, some of them do. But some don't and are merely object. But what truly binds myself- is the mask. That's the memory of me. Who I am and where I am. What makes me, me. Despite what isn't apart of me and the changes in time that reflects different, I'm still in there. It can be extremely dangerous if something happens to destroy it or harm severely... It hurts though to take damage, more than just the body. Varro slapped me one and broke some of it awhile back, but it mended with time. In a way as you can probably say. It's sentient. An extreme emotional bond. Without it, I'm no longer myself." Given, only Shiro was exposed to the instability of Lios, during their first encounter. Between the terror of Theodore that came out, distorted by another further. His eyes arched, giggling aloud to himself. "Wether there is a margin of error, the face reality of it is, that he's willing to give it his all. No matter what it seems to be, and I think that's sweet. Not many would take the plunge, knowing that there will always be something to go wrong. He sounds like he has a lot of skill though regardless of that... Such restoration capabilities, let alone objects. But I don't blame him for being that way, not that I know Shiro as well as you might by the sounds of it. He is the way he is. I bet he thinks you're a work of art. I think you are." He craned his head. "-though you're calling dibs? And an Oath ring is given to those apart of organizations. Promises, vows, pledge, bonds, however you want to call it. That's what they are, usually they're special circumstance."

eeriestatic​:

Lios nodded in agreement to her proposal to help. Although, he didn’t think ahead to ask her where to look, the Lich didn’t want her getting too lost with what was down there. Instead now, he was quietly watching now and waiting - patiently because as much as he was confident it was there, he wasn’t certain that it was and it wasn’t just filled with other trinkets of his importance. The approach was a curious one, that it had the Lich almost looming over her to see everything better in the light, and wary not to block her light from his overcast body shadow. “So small… Hands so tiny.” Lios absentmindedly commented, looking away briefly before he looked at his own - clutching them closed and opening them - a soft airy creak of the metal joints resonating. He giggled to himself, but as soon as he heard the ruckus of the belongings pour out, his head snapped in her direction. Though he was looking at the items, he could see the photo - thankfully that was there and looked to be in decent shape. The items present were his, besides one of the bunch, despite his deteriorated memory. The etched smile grew, he was looking at the bracelet to say the least - whether or not his memories were plagued in a different reign due to his person, he still shared every memory clearly.

As soon as he could see just out the corner, Maya’s reactive nature prompted his attention entirely, by just a tilt of his head that peeked at her curiously. Expectant of feed back, he wasn’t sure whether the silence meant good or bad so he hadn’t made a comment just yet. The Lich wouldn’t hold it against her, given that even he knew. Though to his surprised delight, he perked upright with an airy cackling - voiced further by the fact she’d gone ahead and called him hot for it. “Dashing, aren’t I? Listen, I couldn’t just say I was hot without proof here, that’s hard persuasion. I actually still have those though… Probably the one thing that didn’t wither, next to the items that were in that case. Thankfully, whether material items…” Although, he knew it shouldn’t mean anything to him. Things were different to this Lich.

However, her question made him pause. Humming away to himself, although it was more something that sounded like a foreign tune, equal to elevator music because he was in the middle of thinking… Even he was forgetful when it came to his own grimoire. Though, little did he know he could actually sustain a visage - even if temporary, due to his unspoken abilities and the way they worked. Surely he’d might not look the shape, but it would still be him. He had yet to remember, but the book of his would’ve helped… Perhaps even one of the girlies… The Lich shook his head, he knew it was that important to be in the case to begin with, all in reason or he’d not have kept it around. “These other trinkets are memory fed, that I wanted to keep around. But the photo, something more ties into that I believe… I need my book. I’m missing something, but I don’t have access to it. I need an anchor point.” He vaguely stated. He wasn’t as invested as getting his book back until now, but now that the uncertainty arose, he was certain for something else in turn. The mention of marriage though made him shake his head. “No. Nooo, no. I’m not married…” Digits reached in, carefully plucking the band out of the pile with the tips of his claws. “This was just a ring given to me from my friend, although he bamboozled me because it was actually an Oath ring. He was a good lad though, but he was also an idiot… Friends though, am I right? His little boy actually made that bracelet for me too. To befriend me, because I looked scared.” The Lich added before putting the ring back down in the pile. “The photo is something though…”

      Deciding it was best not to be a creep, she slowly lowered the photograph and placed it back among the trinkets, albeit with some reluctance. She left it face-up, however, just so she could peek at it throughout the meddling about. If Lios thought she was done playing with his belongings, he was dead wrong, as she took interest in the bracelet next. At first, she fit it around her fingers and it naturally fell the rest of the way around her wrist, although it draped loosely from it.

      ❝They aren’t that tiny at all, your hands are just big.❞, she commented, huffing a bit as if she had taken offence to it. It was all in jest, however.

      Everything he told her, she paid attention to it and processed it as best as she could with the context he’d provided for her. Although she had no idea what he meant by memory fed as a whole, she could take a wild guess. As for the rest, her attention seemed to perk up upon him emphasizing the importance of the picture. That’s when she found herself placing the bracelet back in the pile and picking it up again. This time, not to gawk at the image in it, but to analyze it from every angle. Was she missing something? When she was finally ready to utter her conclusions, she looked up at him and tilted her head. Whether she was wrong or not, whether she sounded silly or not, she didn’t care very much.

      ❝Well, everyone’s belongings hold some memories attached to them… Do you mean that yours do as well, but in a more literal sense than that? Do you think you are able to unlock some lost piece of yourself with them? That would make sense, as to why you’re carrying them around and keeping them safe on your person. Besides for the sentimental value…❞, she hummed, turning her attention back towards the bunch. That’s when she suddenly took a seat on the floor and propped her back against the wall, so she could sort them out and place them back into the casing in an orderly manner. Since Lios had offered so much of himself to her, she thought she would return the favour, albeit in bits and pieces.

      ❝The Shiro I know can restore objects and people from memory, although there is a margin of error to everything he does. That’s how he was able to put me back together again in the first place… not properly, but it’s not the worst. I’ve gained a few extra limbs in the meantime and I look like stitched up roadkill. But it’s better than being a sentient pile of minced meat, if I get no say in whether I die and stay dead in the first place. He’s never really learned how to grieve and move on. Still a little kid…❞, she muttered, pinching and rolling the band ring between her index and thumb. On a more cheerful note, however… ❝If you’re not married yet, it means I can still call dibs. What is an Oath ring, though?❞