#progressive party builders

[themachinimacomposer]

Progressive Party Builders: Aug 7 Winning 101 Workshop

Are you thinking about running for local office? We need regular everyday workers in local government, helping communities, making a difference. You are INVITED. Aug 7 Sunday at 2pm

Are you thinking about running for local office? We need regular everyday workers in local government, helping communities, making a difference. You are INVITED. Aug 7 Sunday at 2pm Join the Progressive Party Builders for a panel on Winning 101. Learn about running for office, candidate recruitment, what makes a viable candidate and MORE! REGISTER TODAY:…

[anonymousonlyanonymoud]

The Lost de Rolo Chp. 4

The Merchant

TW: TW: Murder, child murder, blood, panic attack, vomit

Previous Chapter

The Market Ward of Westruun was slowly becoming alive as the shops began to open and the chatter of the morning began to fill the streets.

Small crowds formed in front of stores while people began exiting taverns, either drunkenly stumbling home or leaving for whatever job that'd been found for the day.

And at the end of one of the darkest streets, coming out of a dilapidated tavern known for serving watered-down ale and food that was similar to mush, and having beetles in their beds, was Ciara de Rolo.

Her weathered and thin cloak was tightly pulled around her shoulders in a feeble attempt to keep the chill that had begun to set across the realm as the first flurry of snow began to fall. 

The signs of winter were all around the town as the preparations for Westruun's Winterscrest Festival were underway, but Ciara kept her head down to avoid looking at any decorations that would have been put up.

The last Winterscrest festival she'd celebrated had been before she lost everything.

It used to be a happy time for her, watching the Castle of Whitestone being transformed into a wonderland of celebrations as the surrounding city shared a festive joy.

Vesper had taken an interest in overseeing the festivities during the years before...

Both mother and father praised her for her work while Julius said he was grateful for not being the one in charge of parties as it would never look half as good as what she came up with.

Percy asked millions of questions regarding the construction that went on during the setup and would have to be pulled away multiple times from the head builders who had come to finalize plans with Vesper.

The twins had always rolled their eyes at Percy, teasing him about what he was asking. But Whitney and Oliver always looked with awe at what Vesper was able to accomplish.

Ludwig and Cass were filled with wonder at the way the city transformed. Their excitement built each day preparations were made while they used the progress being made as a calendar to count down the days till Winterscrest.

The excitement was infectious and spread throughout the city as the holiday drew closer, even the year the Briarwoods came.

They had been welcomed warmly along with that fucking doctor by her parents, and they repaid that kindness with murder.

Ciara no longer thought about her siblings' happiness when Winterscrest came around. Her mind instead was filled with Whitney's sobs of terror as she was ripped from their sister's arms by Captain Kerrion Stonefell. The man's laugh rang in Ciara's ears before he slammed Whitney's head against the wall. Her blood dripped down the stonework and stained her light brown hair.

Vesper's screams as Stonefell pulled her by her hair and threw her from the window. Ciara heard the sickening snap of bones as her sister's screams cut off. Stonefell continued to laugh as he dragged Ciara to that same window and forced her to look at Vesper's broken body in the courtyard below.

The laughter of children filtered through her head as a small group rushed past. One of the children fell into her side, unintentionally jerking the metallic right arm that the doctor had melded to her years ago. The rods and screws tugged at her skin which sent a sharp twinge of pain through the remains of the limb as she grimaced.

While attempting to blink away the image of her sister's broken body, Ciara sent a glare to the kids who ran off without looking back. 

A part of her, the old part of her that belonged to a young girl who had sat through hours of etiquette lessons with her siblings, the old part that was caged away in the back of her mind in a darkened room, wanted to scold the children for not looking where they were going. That it wasn't polite and they should apologize.

But the main part of Ciara, the part that had been fed on, tortured, ripped apart, and sewn back together with jagged stitches that left horrific scars, only glared as the kids scampered away. 

Ciara continued weaving through the growing crowds, not lifting her head as vendors began calling out for customers as their stalls went up. She heard all the sales pitches before, and it wasn't like she could afford the wares anyway. Ciara was ready to walk past and ignore the merchants until she caught a conversation that her freezing in her tracks,

"-a shop in Whitestone at some point. The tyrants who'd forcefully taken control five years ago are gone and, thankfully, dead. The city is now rebuilding and in need of new economics in the market," The de Rolo felt herself turn toward the voice and saw the person who'd caught her attention.

The voice belonged to a man with dark skin, hair in a half-ponytail with two short braids framing the side of his face, a braided goatee, purple robes with gold trim, gold jewelry, and a red sash around his waist to complete the look.

He was standing in front of a building that looked to be in the middle of renovations with four other merchants. Two humans, a halfling, and an elf. Ciara recognized them as members of the Westruun Merchant Guild. She'd stolen a thing or two from the halfling and spied on the elf. 

His sister was a cartographer who had married a diplomat in Syngorn. He only kept in touch with her and his niece. From what Ciara had found, he didn't have much love for his brother-in-law and rarely spoke to him. Which meant the Clasp no longer wanted anything to do with him.

The merchants were listening intently to the purple-clad man as he spoke about bringing business to Whitestone during and after the city was restored.

But what made Ciara turn cold with shock was when she heard the goateed man say,

"A council has been made, with a de Rolo at the head to rule Whitestone once again," 

A de Rolo? That couldn't be possible.

The de Rolo's were all dead.

Ciara knew they were dead.

She'd seen them, her parents, Julius, Vesper, Oliver, Whitney, and Ludwig. 

She never saw Percy or Cass alive after that dinner, but she heard them. The Briarwoods made sure she heard them scream.

Ciara heard her remaining family as she sat frozen in the cell The Briarwoods had shoved her in. Bound under a Hold Person Spell she was forced to listen as Ripley tortured Percy and Cass. 

She heard them.

Ciara heard Percy weakly insisting he didn't know what was below Whitestone before his voice became desperate as Ripley began cutting into their sister.

When the screaming stopped and Ciara was dragged away, Ripley would visit. The doctor would show her the hooks and tools that had been embedded in her siblings' mere minutes ago. Ciara was forced to listen as Ripley described how she tortured Percy and Cass before going on to say Ciara could stop it.

She just needed to tell Ripley about what was under Whitestone.

But Ciara hadn't, and still didn't, know what the woman was talking about.

And the screaming continued.

Ciara had each of their screams etched into her mind that she heard it everywhere. Even after she'd been taken from the dungeons.

And then, the screaming stopped. She was no longer tossed into a cell to listen as Ripley tortured her siblings. And because of that, a venomous hope leached into her mind, because despite all that she had witnessed, Ciara was naive enough to think that Percy and Cass had somehow escaped.

Until-

Until-

Anger bubbled to the surface as Ciara found herself standing in front of the goateed man with words that were spat with rage and vitriol flying from her mouth,

"Enough! Enough of these lies! The de Rolos are dead! All of them are dead!" 

The goateed man looked momentarily taken aback at Ciara rushing into his space, but he composed himself while leaning against the wall behind him. His arms crossed in front of his chest which made the bangles clink together,

"I can assure you, I speak no lies-"

"And I can assure you, you are!" Ciara hissed, but the man seemed nonplussed at her anger and merely raised a perfectly trimmed brow,

"You are quite confident that I am lying," 

"Because I know you are! Seven of them were killed in one night by the Briarwoods! And the two who were left alive were tortured and killed a year later!" Her voice was tapering out into a harsh whisper, "The only de Rolos left in Whitestone are the ones in the crypts!"

The man, despite the other merchants quickly making their exit, only began inspecting his nails before meeting her gaze,

"I admit, I've never been told the details about what happened. My friend was present for the events, and understandably, Percival hasn't wanted to explain how his family was murdered in front of him,"

Her whole body began to shake as her hands clenched,

"Percival is dead! I don't know who you've been talking to, who's been claiming to be him, who is using his name to rule, but Percival died years ago!"

Once again, as Ciara's anger rolled from her in waves, the man didn't seem bothered and continued inspecting his nails. But Ciara hadn't noticed how his gaze hardened as he began taking in the details of her.

Gilmore was beginning to put the similarities between the woman in front of him, and the gunslinger that followed Vax'ildan's sister around, carefully putting pieces of the puzzle together as he said,

"It is not Percival who rules Whitestone but his sister Cassandra," He tilted his head and gauged her reaction.

 The fire that had been raging inside Ciara turned to ice as the tremors racing through her tripled in strength while she felt her eyes begin to burn,

"Then whoever rules Whitestone is an imposter!" She hissed, "Both Percival and Cassandra de Rolo died! They were flayed and murdered!"

Her voice was shattered as her legs shook harshly and it was a wonder that Ciara was able to stay upright as her mind filled with the bodies of her siblings.

Of Percy and Cass who had been flayed by the doctor's hooks until they died and then thrown out into the courtyard in front of Ciara. Ripley had lit the torch and Sylas Briarwood had thrown it onto what remained of her siblings. 

Ciara had screamed. Screamed loud enough that she was certain her voice had reached beyond the Timberlands as what remained of her family became nothing more than charred bones. And when the fire had gone out, Delilah Briarwood had cast a magical flame that turned their remains to ash that blew away in the wind.

A hand was now on her shoulder and pulling her up.

Ciara had collapsed to her knees without realizing and the merchant was now leading her inside the renovated building behind them.

The interior was plain with empty shelves and display cases, a few rugs rolled up and crates stacked against the wall.

When the door shut behind them, the man snapped his fingers, and a table and two chairs appeared before the two. 

The young woman found herself now sitting across from the merchant who was staring at her with a critical gaze,

"Well," He began after a moment of studying her, "I suppose introductions are in order before questions are asked. I'm Gilmore, owner of Gilmore's Glorious Goods in Emon and of this soon-to-be-open store here in Westruun,"

The merchant, Gilmore, waved his hand in a flamboyant fashion that had small sparks falling from his fingers which made Ciara flinch back.

Gilmore then looked at Ciara as the sparks quickly dissipated and gestured toward her with an open palm and expectant look until she answered,

"People call me Bird,"

"I imagine due to your corvid friends there,"

She didn't need to look to know that Adrik and Nyx were peering in through the window. They were like two small shadows that followed her everywhere, no matter how many times she refused to acknowledge them,

"Suppose so,"

Gilmore hummed while resting his chin against his hand, "If I were to ask for your real name, I assume you would not give it,"

The tension that had slowly been ebbing away returned tenfold as Ciara leaned as far away from the man as possible,

"If I were to say you were right?" 

The merchant shrugged while leaning back in his chair, "Names have power. From the gods and fiends to the most ordinary of folk, a name can have a hold on someone. Whether to bind or summon a being of power, or simply be a shield for someone hiding,"

She should leave. Ciara needed to leave. She had a job that was given a deadline of two days, and she knew better than to slack off or be late. And this Gilmore was prying into open wounds that had festered and rotted over the years,

"What you're implying," Her voice was shaking, "Is wrong. It- It's all wrong!"

"Are you certain? Earlier you counted nine de Rolo's. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't there ten in Whitestone? The lord and lady with their eight children? Why have you only counted seven children?" 

Her trembling hand found purchase on the short sword that hung at her hip as she whispered, "The eighth died. She died when her brother and sister's bodies were burned in front of her,"

Gilmore's eyes were trained on her with a look of sadness as he leaned forward,

"Then I'll speak to the ghost sitting across from me. And I'll tell her that her brother, Percival, is coming to Westruun-"

He was cut off by Ciara shoving away from the table, causing the chair she'd been sitting on to clatter to the ground, 

"No-he-He's dead! He's-" She darted out of the store without finishing.

The ravens that had been sitting at the window croaked and squawked in alarm when the door slammed open and Ciara stumbled out into the street.

She couldn't see the people around her, she couldn't see where she was going.

There were some shouts as she ran into things, but Ciara kept running until she skidded to a stop and fell to her knees in an alley.

A burning, acrid taste came hurtling up her throat and onto the ground in front of her as she only thought of the last two bodies. Of Cassandra and Percy.

The exposed muscle and bone had been barely covered by the remains of their formal wear. The remains of what they had been wearing to that fucking dinner!

They were dead. They were dead! 

They couldn't be alive because that would mean she would have-

More bile worked its way up Ciara's throat as her vision blurred. 

When the meager contents of her stomach had all been expelled from her body, Ciara coughed and gagged while wiping at her mouth. She managed to push herself up and saw someone standing to her right with a waterskin held out.

Ciara saw who had found her and took the skin, swishing the water around her mouth before spitting it out as the Spireling made himself comfortable on a few crates,

"You're taking a late start, Bird. Not like you," The halfling rasped.

She sat against the wall and tossed the waterskin back, "Got distracted. Nothing to worry about, Fetch. I'm going to leave now," 

"What did that man want?" The halfling questioned, "The merchant. He's new in Westruun,"

"No one,"

"Really? No one?"

"No one to me,"

Fetch scoffed and leaned toward her, "And despite that, one of your ravens stayed behind at his shop,"

She jerked her gaze toward the sky and only saw one raven settled on the roof across from her. Nyx's beady eyes met hers before darting to Fetch. If a raven could glare, Ciara was certain that Nyx would be. But Fetch was correct, Adrik was nowhere to be seen,

"I don't control where they go-"

"But they've been following you since you arrived in Westruun. And suddenly, one of them leaves your side? What. Did. He. Want?"

Ciara shook her head, "Nothing of consequence-"

"You expect me to believe that?" He leaned forward, "Are you trying to fly away, Bird?"

She unflinchingly met his gaze, "I'm not that stupid, Fetch. I learned my lesson from last time,"

Fetch only continued to eye her for a very long moment before standing,

"You better get going, Bird. You've already lost too much time,"

He disappeared as quickly as he came, leaving Ciara to shakily return to her feet.

With a shaky breath, she glanced up at Nyx who was hopping along the roof and ruffling her feathers, then began making her way toward the Western Gate.

[kanohirren]

How to Make Bdubs in DnD

I’ll go level by level and explain the reasoning behind my decisions and how I think it fits them in character. This build assumes starting at level 8 but includes notes on differences if you start at level 1 and progress to 8. This isn't intended as a guide on how to play dnd, just how to build this character.

Class: Druid (Circle of Dreams) 7, Cleric (Life Domain) 1

Race: Goblin

Base Ability Scores: 

Str 13 (+1)

Dex 8, (-1)

Con 15 (+2) +1 from race = 16 (+3)

Int 10 (+0)

Wis 15 (+2) +2 from race = 17 (+3)

Cha 10 (+0)

Background: Guild Artisan (builder/carpenter)

As a Wisdom based caster, Bdubs will of course be prioritizing his Wisdom stat. The Strength score is necessary to wear heavy armour, which he gets from his cleric dip. If the whole “druids don’t wear metal” thing is an issue, just flavour it as being made of something else.

I built Bdubs to be an extremely good healer outside of combat, but in combat he will probably struggle to match people in damage (which is okay! That’s the other party member’s job)

Before we get into the class features, we’ll start with the goblin race features:

Darkvision 60ft.

Fey ancestry (advantage on saving throws vs being charmed)

Fury of the Small (pump extra damage equal to proficiency bonus onto attacks or spells) “I AM NOT SHORT I AM VERY TALL”

Nimble Escape: disengage or hide as a bonus action.

And the Guild Artisan background features:

Skill proficiencies: Insight and Persuasion

Guild Membership: The guild has your back

First, we start with a level in Cleric. At level 1, you gain:

Proficiency in light and medium armour and shields.

Proficiency in simple weapons

Proficiency in Wisdom and Charisma saving throws

Skill proficiencies: Religion, Medicine (obvious choices for a cleric)

Three cantrips: Guidance, Light, Toll the Dead

1st lvl Cleric spells: Clerics are prepared casters, you can swap out spells after a long rest, but Life Domain Clerics automatically have Bless and Cure Wounds prepared. Suggested spells would be Healing Word, Sanctuary, Shield of Faith and Guiding Bolt

Subclass: Life Domain

Life Domain grants: 

Disciple of Life feature. Your healing spells heal an extra 2 + the spell’s level HP (the main reason for this 1 lvl dip. The extra healing scales with the spell level, not cleric level, so there’s no need for extra levels in this class)

Proficiency in Heavy Armour (allows you to wear chain mail)

As for his deity, Bdubs of course worships himself as he established himself as a god in the hermitcraft x empires crossover.

We only take one level of Cleric; the rest is now all druid. If you’re worried about level progression, it may be more convenient to start with druid and only dip into cleric after 5 levels. The main difference would be different saving throw proficiencies, but it’s not a big deal. The biggest reason to start Cleric is for the Disciple of Life feature to buff all your healing spells.

At 2nd level, we begin our journey into Druid.

At level 1, a Druid gains:

Druidic: secret language so that when you go “AUAAUAHGGGHUGETHO” it’s actually words

Two cantrips: Druidcraft, Primal Savagery

1st lvl Druid spells: Druids are also prepared casters like Clerics, but the important spell is to take GOODBERRY. 

Bdubs is a druid because he is of course a moss enjoyer.

Goodberry synergises extremely well with Disciple of Life. Normally, Goodberry creates 10 berries that heal 1 hp each. Disciple of Life boosts the effect of healing spells by 2 + the spell level (goodberry is 1st lvl), so each Goodberry instead heals 4 HP for a total of 40 HP with a 1st lvl spell at lvl 2.

At 3rd level, we gain a second Druid level, which grants:

Wildshape

Subclass: Circle of Dreams

Circle of dreams grants:

Balm of the Summer Court, grants you a pool of d6s to heal party members with, which is even more healing for your party. (Does not synergise with Disciple of Life as it is not a spell)

At 4th level, we gain a third Druid level, which grants:

2nd level spells. Suggested spells: Healing Spirit (multiple instances of healing, strong synergy with Disciple of Life), Spike Growth (hurty moss)

Additional Cantrip: Anything works, suggested: Infestation

At 5th level, we gain a fourth Druid level, which grants:

Ability Score Improvement OR Feat. If you don’t use feats, add +1 to Wisdom and +1 to Strength.

Feat: Fey Wanderer. Grants a +1 to Wisdom (bumps it up to 18 for a +4 modifier) and the Misty Step spell, which is handy for running away from danger like Bdubs often does (“AAAUHGGHAAGH *disappears in a puff of smoke”). 

Improved wildshape

At 6th level, we gain a fifth Druid level, which grants:

3rd level spells. Suggested spells: Conjure Animals (HORSES!), Plant Growth (MOSS) or Speak with Plants (SENTIENT MOSS)

At 7th level, we gain a sixth Druid level, which grants:

Subclass feature: Hearth of Moonlight and Shadow. Basically, allows you to obscure an area to make a safe space for your party to take a rest in (gotta shreep!)

At 8th level, we take our seventh Druid level, which grants:

4th level spells. Suggested spells: Polymorph, Confusion

Summary:

Final Stats:

Str 13 (+1)

Dex 8 (-1)

Con 16 (+3)

Int 10 (+0)

Wis 18 (+4)

Cha 10 (+0)

Feat: Fey Wanderer

Cantrips: Druidcraft, Primal Savagery, Guidance, Light, Toll the Dead, Infestation

Wildshape for up to 3 hours

1st to 4th level spells: Prepare up to 5 Cleric spells and 11 Druid spells.

And that’s it! The result is a druid with extremely powerful healing abilities but who may also turn around and bite you or summon a stampede of horses on you. Perfect for Bdubs!

[sanddusted-wisteria]

How late am I to this party? Oh, everyone's already done it and left. But I'm gonna do this meme anyways :>

I actually had a couple of these in mind way before already, and that was really helpful in developing Wisty's story, and doubly so now that I'm writing a new fic with her!

Rambling Explanations below:

Color: Orange - The color of zest! Energy! Just the stuff that Wisty needs in her life after slogging away in Highwind for years. Warm colors are all around Sandrock, setting the perfect stage to inject all that back into her life.

Flora: Wisteria - I mean, duh. Aside from the fact that it's her literal name (and of course, she's growing some in her garden too), wisteria are pretty aggressive growers. If you grow it against a wall, it absolutely will slip into any cracks. They also need regular pruning. The human Wisteria saw the ad to get builders to Sandrock and took all of 5 minutes to make up her mind on moving. She's got a bit of an impatient streak, too. She hates having to wait for stuff to get done. She can be easy to annoy or frustrate. She hates having nothing to do (or at least, nothing for her hands to do). It's been tempered a bit from her time without a workshop, but it's still a work in progress. Gotta pruuune it back.

Fauna: Fox - Foxes are playful and adaptable. Wisty's regaining her sense of silliness as she's able to flourish in Sandrock. Plus, she's had to adjust to Major Life Circumstances on more than one occasion--living within her means after the loss of her old workshop, and then, well, everything in Sandrock.

(Also, have you ever heard a fox laugh? I imagine that's kinda what Wis sounds like when she hits someone with a laser-precision timed pun. Just a little less squeaky.)

Object: A plank of pine wood - Or more accurately, several planks of pine wood put together into a sign. It was one of the first things Wis made after she finished her education: a sign for her new workshop. The closest source of wood was the nearby pine forest. It's also where the workshop name comes from: Fresh Pines! After it closed, she took it home, and it gathered dust somewhere in her parents' basement. It was bit cumbersome, but she brought it to Sandrock. And the first thing she did when she got re-licensed was to hammer it up. It still has a bit of that fresh, piney smell.

Song: Sunset - Alex Vourtsanis - This track is fast and energetic, for one titled "Sunset." I think it's fitting for both Wisty's brighter and mellower moments.

Feeling: Zeal - What's she's missing most of all. Wis became a builder because she loved working with her hands and doing good. Having to worry constantly about money and finding work really drained her of that passion. But here in Sandrock, who needs builders everywhere they can get, maybe she has a chance to find it again. :>

[thetalentedmrwulf]

Abstracting Money in PF2E

Percolating something in my brain about Pathfinder 2e to abstract money / treasure. I like big damn hero / big damn villain stories, and if we're going to spend a session shopping, I'd prefer if it was because we had to find merchants that had what we needed and gossip about rumors than balance a ledger.

Prototype in my head is as follows -

Pathfinder 2e attaches Levels to most things - settlements, items, et al. Item levels give DMs a decent idea where in the power scale something is, settlement level indicates power level acquirable in that place, generally speaking. Items tagged Uncommon or Rare are harder yet to find even than that and may even be questing foci.

Further, because the game has proficiency equal your level + a bonus equal to how proficient you are (Trained +2, Expert +4, Master +6, Legendary +8), it also has pretty standardized difficulty rolls. The correct difficulty for a Level 10 problem is easy to chart or calculate, whichever you prefer, with stock modifiers for tweaking up or down if its relatively easy or hard in that instance.

So.... just use Level and a money stat to get what you need. First, we abstract money. Make the stat "Coin" (just because stealing from Blades in the Dark is fun.) Quantity of Coin for a task should map right to the Encounter builder - Trivial gives a Meager Reward, Low gives a Modest Reward, Moderate gives a Major Reward, Severe gives an Excellent Reward, Extreme gives an Epic Reward. This isn't an exact science like the encounter builder is; this should be based on the priority a person requesting a problem be solved views it as. Use the already existing "Make a Request" action to haggle over money or request tangible assistance since it already uses the built-in disposition system. Keep in mind, each party member gets one of these when completed. Then, for social, exploration, or combat encounters as relevant, hand out smaller Rewards from 1-3 as the quest progresses.

Now, when you need to buy an item, use the default level difficulty chart / math for any item you need. If the item is more than 4 levels lower than your level, presume you can purchase as many as are reasonably available. Then, as long as you have any "Reward" in hand, you can roll to buy something, adding the bonus of the Reward your risking. Each level of Reward gives you a +1, +2, +4, +6, or +8 depending on the level. Get a Critical Success, you get the Item for a great deal, you can buy a second Item of equal value and the Reward goes down a level. Get a regular success, and it's the same as a Critical, buy you only successfully purchase one item. Get a failure, and you purchase the item, but your Reward goes down by two. If you can't decrease this Reward by two, you owe the merchant a favor in return. If you Critically Fail, the item is harder to come by than you imagined and you're going to have to pull some strings to get it at all, potentially taking a job or quest. On getting the result, I think the player can always choose to walk away from getting the item if the price is too steep.

If you really want to lean into the idea of Uncommon, Rare, and say, Legendary items of certain levels being tough to acquire, make it so services or items rendered REQUIRE a certain level of Reward to make the roll. The important part of this system is you NEVER fail to acquire the item. It's just more expensive than you intended or more roundabout.

Feats that already modify getting a better price can be retrofit or new ones can be created that let you also add Cha, Int or Wis, or use a Skill in place of the Reward to haggle a better deal. I also think this could tie into Crafting nicely with the system that already exists.

That's all for now!

[faebriel]

and you caused it: chapter 2

(click for more detail!)

In which Niki has a terrible secret, Puffy just wants to move on, Tommy sneaks into casino parties and Wilbur learns to deal with anger being justified. Or - the one thing they don't warn you of, when dropping nuclear warheads on old friends, is fallout.

in chapter two: arguments are had. roommates are invited to crash on an attempted murderer's metaphorical couch. more emotionally intense conversations are had over l'manberg's skeleton corpse, and niki is once again alone.

wc: 5k

Wilbur has always been a builder. Alright. Perhaps not practically. Wilbur's attempts at piecing together bases made of wood and stone leave much to be desired. But metaphorically, there's the crux of it - Wilbur builds stories, narratives, chord progressions and nations. There is something about the world, as caught in his eyes, that is always empty. Devoid of life. Wilbur simply seeks to fill it. Find empty forestland, build a camper van. Build a so-so drug empire. Build a story around the camper van - some quirk to draw them in - and then build your nation, pinning your Declaration of Independance right at eye level as one waltzes through the door. Lose a war. Lose your brother. Lose an election, and build a network of TNT beneath the earth so vast and complex that despite the months that trickle from Schlatt's inauguration to Dream's patronage to Wilbur's blissful destruction, not a single person figures out how to defuse it. (Who is they, one might ask. It's a valid question. Ask Wilbur, he might say his brother, he might say the people - if one happens to be a cop, he might tell them it's none of their fucking business and come back with a warrant if they come back at all. He won't tell you they is simply Wilbur. He won't tell you that without the story, without something to fill his mind with colour and give him direction, there is no Wilbur Soot at all.) The point of all this is: Wilbur lives in constant need of some project, something to build, something that destroys. Even ill, he cannot stand to keep his hands idle. This is, perhaps, what led to his demise. It is, in any case, what leads Wilbur to the office of one Captain Puffy. “I do appreciate you lending me your time,” he says, taking a seat in the plush, worn armchair in the corner of the room. Backed in by walls, which he supposes must feel safer for the woman sitting in front of him, pen and clipboard in hand. “I know you’re not officially practicing anymore.” He’s not sure if she was officially practicing ever, actually. There’s no certificate hanging on her wall, only tapestries and paintings - fading cloth in greens and blues, and a painting of breaking waves that stretches across the wall almost as long as his armspan. It is cluttered, lived-in despite its title as an office. Above all else, clearly marked as the captain’s territory. “It’s no trouble,” Puffy says. “I’m glad - it’s nice that you wanted to come, in the first place. I did just want to spell some things out before we start, though, yeah?” Wilbur inclines his head. “Take it away.” “Right.” Puffy resettles herself in her seat, pushing a handful of curls - these ones pearl-white, although it almost looks like the browner half is the part that’s been dyed - behind her shoulder.

puffy informs wilbur right off the bat that, well, patient confidentiality is a thing - she's not gonna tell him anything about tommy, or his recovery (recovery from what, wilbur thinks - because puffy is not as slick or as licensed as he necessarily assumes she is, and can be so dedicated to her pursuit of justice that sometimes she lets the cat out of the bag). no matter! wilbur is not here to talk about tommy. in fact, he'd rather ask puffy a couple questions about herself. and, would she be interested in attending a party in las nevadas, only a few days from now?

---

las nevadas is in pandemonium but for once, wilbur can't bring himself to care - he storms after tommy, racing with thoughts that tumble over themselves in their rush to make themselves heard.

he feels betrayed. he's hurt. he's always thought the world of niki, he trusted her, he cared so fucking much what she thought of him - thought she must hate him, after l'manberg, not even worth begging for her forgiveness, couldn't keep himself from crying when she dared to give it anyway - and the whole time she'd tried to kill tommy, his brother, and did nothing but smile quietly and evade questions. the thought chafes at him. it hurts. one of his closest friends, his first lady, the entire time -

(he hadn't thought to ask those questions, but wilbur is not in his precisely right mind at the moment.)

tommy, though, makes evasion into an artform - he refuses to answer wilbur's questions, parries back with his own (admittedly deserved) barbs about the casino and quackity who does not matter right now, they're talking about niki, he'd welcomed niki into their country and their stupid dinner and tommy hadn't said a fucking word to him about it. does tommy truly not trust him so much? is he so naïve, to take a raw betrayal on the chin like this?

"She tried to kill you!" "Dream did kill me!" Tommy shouts. "Dream - he, he - he killed me and you didn't even care!"

that's not true. of course wilbur cared when tommy died, but -

limbo has a way of blurring things. for instance, priorities.

and besides, this is more than murder, this is a betrayal, he insists - a crime for the innermost circle of hell. not that tommy cares. worse things have happened. wilbur has happened. dream, apparently has happened -

and tommy refuses to divulge a word more, puffy told him that he doesn't have to tell wilbur shit if he doesn't want to and wilbur's not gonna tell him not to listen to his therapist, is he? tommy rips into him - because this isn't about wilbur, wilbur wasn't even there, he was dead, and who did that, wilbur? it's none of his business, and if tommy had his way wilbur wouldn't have even found out, because tommy knew this would happen. he knew wilbur would make this about him, knew he would twist it into something that makes the word l'manberg go sour and sickly in tommy's mouth - and wilbur can harp on about betrayal all he wants. he cares about this because it affects him. and if he fucking cared, he'd know that a near-miss with a warhead is not even close to the worst thing that's happened to tommy. he'd let tommy settle his friendship (wilbur scoffs, and that only proves tommy's point, he shrieks) with niki. it's not even close to the worst things that have happened to him since wilbur died, and if wilbur cared outside of making things all about himself, he would know that, too.

it's easy for you to be all buddy-buddy with dream, tommy retorts. it's just fucking easier for you.

and this time, wilbur lets him go - watches him disappear into the smoke and rubble, and it's a sign of how close he and tommy are these days that he doesn't even know where tommy's going.

he can't stop the river-rush of his thoughts, stewing and self-critical and fuming with a sense of anger and betrayal and loss that he can't control - he'd have better luck trying to shift the tides themselves. if niki is, as it turns out, horrible terrible awful betrayer no-coming-back - what does that make someone like wilbur?

---

niki wakes to what feels like one of the worst mornings of her life.

the thing about this morning in particular is that for once, it's not someone else's fault that she's so miserable - there's no war, there's no fruitless bickering over countries, there's nothing but the quiet sound of her breathing in her underground city. but she still feels miserable.

she drags herself to the arctic for the syndicate meeting, hoping to cling to some semblence of normalcy. she ties wobbuffet's lead to the pens, and descends to the syndicate meeting room - and is beyond relieved to see, at least, that techno has returned.

if they know what happened last night, neither he or phil are saying anything. ranboo, to his end, gives her a briefly awkward glance, but otherwise seems happy not to unsettle the waters. thank god. the meeting opens, as planned, and the three of them welcome techno back to the main server. techno is just as happy to see them (although he still tries to hide quite how much, still a bit vulnerable about this whole having friends thing), and summarily informs them:

quackity and sam are torturing dream in the prison

he has, in fact, spent some time in the prison (thanks for the escape, phil, definitely didn't leave me hanging for a good couple weeks) and seen this with his own two eyes

and techno owes dream a favour, y'know. from l'manberg days. so the syndicate is going to break dream out of the prison.

cue mild pandemonium.

phil's heard the plan already, he has no questions. ranboo and niki, though, hearing this for the first time, have several - mostly centred around why are we breaking dream, of all people, out of prison - prison the server put him in, we were there, we were both there. niki has never liked dream, and really, was more than happy to see him put in the prison - he's a bully, he's a tyrant, and if anything his imprisonment kept her and jack from having to sort out how exactly they would well-deservedly take him down a peg after the whole. y'know. tommy thing.

(she hasn't spoken to jack in quite some time, she suddenly thinks again, spurred on by the memory of their talks. it's another thing to feel guilty about, even if jack made it clear her presence, if not productive, was not wanted.)

ranboo, on the other hand, is terrified - especially after the night before, still twitchy.

"Dream isn't - he isn't safe! He - Techno," and their voice drops, "the voices - " "You'll be fine," Techno assures him. "Besides, wasn't the point that he was messing with you to do shit that he couldn't? When he's outta prison he's not gonna mess with you anymore. Easy." "It's not - I - it's not just that, actually, anyway. I mean, he tried to kill Tubbo. In the vault, and everything." "I have also tried to kill that guy," Techno explains, as if to a young child - "many times. Water under the bridge. No big deal." Ranboo's face takes on an ill-fitting shape - stony, for a brief second cold - and says testily, "I wouldn't say that - "

ranboo tries to push their arguments further, but splutter to a stop - his head hurts suddenly, claws finding their way to press against his temple, and eventually goes quiet. niki, though, is still frustrated. she's never liked dream, not from the very first second she stepped on this server. she was perfectly happy to leave dream in prison. he's not the only bad person, sure - are there others niki has thought deserving of being locked up in her time, some more validly than others, absolutely - but he's a tyrant, and niki said her piece when it comes to playing nice with tyrants years ago. she doesn't.

(and if dream is out again, some part of her thinks - with dream comes war, and with war comes more betrayal and hurt and uncertainty and instability, and niki feels unstable enough thanks to what she's wrought with her own two hands. she already feels like she's spent the last twenty-four hours tumbling downward, and if dream is free, the ground beneath her will shake hard enough that she will never be able to get herself back up. she's safe. she was - and, she tries to remind herself, will be - happy. she doesn't want a selfish bully to ruin that because techno thinks he owes something to someone who shouldn't be owed a thing.

and, she hates to think it - she's heard tommy ramble, even when she knows he hopes she's forgotten, and she's heard him rattle off his rambling fears of dream. and she saw the vault. she saw tommy and tubbo in the vault, beaten and bruised and with a blade to tubbo's neck. and puffy always seemed to know more, barely keeping herself from spilling whatever else tommy has told her. niki has known tommy has... problems. and that's sat with her uncomfortably since that night in her cabin, baking bread, because he was far kinder to her than she deserved because he could see that she was struggling and she, well, hasn't done the same.

thinking of niki's part in all this, now that it has been dragged back into the open - of wilbur's blatant interrogation of him even as tommy practically begged him to shut the fuck up - yes, she feels like to some extent, she owes him a favour.)

techno, though, responds with unexpected ire - so niki doesn't feel like helping? it's not even a case of what if one of their friends was stuck in there, under quackity and sam's control - techno was stuck down there, and yet apparently taking down such an oppressive power isn't something niki cares about?

the ensuing argument is defensive and nasty. both techno and niki feel deeply hurt, feel that the other doesn't care about their safety, and both are stressed enough to lash out at each other about it - and phil and ranboo are both mostly unwilling to step in. for niki, though, it's not just a matter of whether she participates herself - she feels that if dream is out at all, her world will get turned on its head. and to be entirely honest, she's not in a good headspace right now. if techno is painting himself as an adversary right now then niki will fight tooth and nail, because there's that awful cloying anger crawling up her throat and god, it has to go somewhere.

so in a desperate attempt to call off the thing, niki threatens to leave the syndicate if they break dream out of the prison.

...it's a respectable attempt at a trump card. unfortunately, three-fourths of the decision has already been made. techno, feeling defensive and angry and above all else betrayed by niki's apparent lack of care for what could have been his plight, informs her promptly of where the door is. ranboo, struggling to hold onto his waking self, has nothing to add. phil makes an attempt to soften the blows between them, to keep the bridge from being burnt - but niki is furious and embarrassed that it didn't work, and techno is just incensed enough to let her leave.

niki storms out, retreats to her little cottage. she stands in the centre of the small space, passively taking in all these small details - her weapons rack, her baking nook, her winter quilts and her flowerboxes. so many of them from techno, phil and ranboo, and now she can hardly stand to look at them.

she rips through the cottage like a hurricane gone loose. every plate and dagger and glass bottle goes crashing to the floor, blanketing its surface in a snowbed of ceramic and glass. pillows are thrown at walls. a bag of flour is ripped, and spills across the floor like even more snowdrift. and then niki stands in the centre of it - some part of her hoping to god that the others are still deep in the syndicate room, though most of her just doesn't give a fuck anymore - and wails.

she did the right thing. she did the good thing. she knew the villain was imprisoned for a reason, she believes in that imprisonment, she was right there when he was sentenced and every drop of her blood sang for revenge as he was silenced. and now she's thought about the hurt she's caused people, and for once, she stood up for him instead. she's lost the final tethers she had. she's unmoored. adrift. nowhere to go but beneath the earth. it's one thing to lose the syndicate, another to lose wilbur - to lose both, all in the span of a day, is a blow that niki isn't sure she can handle.

and it didn't even fucking matter, because they're going to break dream out anyway.

Each shard of glass is a face in the vault, discarded against the wooden floor.

niki is furious. furious at techno, furious at phil and ranboo for doing nothing, furious at herself - guilt is not something she has had to reckon with before, and the feeling chafes at her like an ill-fitting glove. there's always been a sense of discomfort that comes with being wrong, that moment sent off-kilter, when her perception of reality shifts and what is and what is not change like water. she remembers when tommy died, when ripples cast across the water and her grudge was revealed as just as stupid and petty as it always had been, that the source of her fury was wilbur - and even then, how left me became died became suicide and fury sunk back into its forgotten twin, grief. but even then, it wasn't like this. it wasn't her fault. this, undoubtably, is. she thought she had gotten over it. perhaps that's an exaggeration - she thought she was getting over it, making amends, even if slowly. even if she couldn't quite say the words, admit she was wrong, make herself vulnerable again.

god. has she always been so selfish? so cowardly? when l'manberg burned, did niki even pull herself from its ashes? it doesn't fucking feel like it, now. it feels like every slow step of healing has been worth nothing.

it feels like the second she stopped being either of those things, she lost everything. again.

niki thinks of how even in the depths of their planning - at her worst, at her most violent (towards tommy, sure, but towards herself the most), even when they didn't trust each other - she and jack could always agree on one thing. together, they hated dream.

niki has been a coward. not in the face of tyrants, but in the face of her own guilty conscience - putting her name next to her misdeeds. fine. if the universe, threaded into puffy's voice, calls on her to make amends - so she will. and so she'll rip tyrants to pieces, if that is what clearing the conscience means for niki nihachu.

---

niki walks to snowchester. tommy opens the door.

"Niki?" Tommy asks, cautious. He doesn't close the door on her, as she thought he might - doesn't even waver, although his expression goes a bit shuttered. "What d'you want?" She thought about this. She ran it over in her mind as she walked all the way here from the Arctic, alone with her thoughts - she's rehearsed the script this time, wrapped the warning in wool, made sure she's careful, because she's trying - "Techno is going to break Dream out of the prison," she blurts out. Fuck. The effect on Tommy is instantaneous, a stormcloud rolling over him - first his breathing goes, and then a hand to the chest, as if he can't believe the lack of air himself. He steadies himself against the door, although his eyes sink to the ground, unable to meet hers, and all Niki can do is stand there silent and try to think think think and, not for the first time, think oh god please don't cry. She hears Tubbo's voice faintly down the grand entrance of the place, followed by footsteps - he recognises her as he approaches, shoving Tommy out of the doorway, staring her down with sharp animosity. "Get off of my fucking property," he informs her. "Techno's breaking Dream out," she repeats, and Tubbo's face falls. "You're lying," he says immediately. "They're not that stupid. They're not that stupid - " "Techno says he owed Dream - " "The favour," Tommy gasps. "Tubbo, Tubs - Dream helped him escape, after the execution - he always said he owed him something..." Tubbo's face goes sheer, snow white.

snowchester, once again, is now considered an almost-military base of operations - niki is clearly unwelcome, but her muffins still sit on the kitchen counter and she's the one with information (ranboo hasn't come home, he hasn't been answering tubbo's comms, and out of the three of them niki is somehow the one to see him last). there isn't much they can do. they don't have the force. and, of course, it wouldn't be hard for dream to find them. even if tommy never stepped foot in his hobbit-house again, dream would find snowchester too easily.

...an idea occurs to niki.

the underground city is not the perfect hiding place. there are people who know about it, people who can't necessarily be trusted - or at the very least, not accounted for. who knows what jack or hbomb or karl are doing right now. who knows what kind of assumptions techno would make if dream were to let slip that snowchester is empty.

but the two of them can't go on the run. tubbo has michael, for god's sake, and he's not putting that kid in harm's way for anything. it will have to be secure enough - shrouded, perhaps, by the fact that of all the people he's crossed, dream has never really given niki the time of day. and thank fucking god for that. tommy's been in better straits, and tubbo is still extremely suspicious of niki (he's pieced together how jack and niki would have pulled off this whole scheme of theirs, and his place in it, and he is not fucking impressed), but under the cover of night - on the eve of the prison break - they escape to the city.

niki watches as the three of them settle in. her underground city was meant to be a place for refugees once, away from the horrors of war - although that was before the nuke, and doomsday, and tommy burning that stupid house down. before even the detonation of november 16th. it has been a long time since refugees stayed here.

she supposes she should feel some kind of fulfilment, seeing it live out its purpose again. perhaps she does. mostly, she feels a bit awkward and uncomfortable. too vulnerable. maybe that's half the point.

it's a first step.

---

niki can't sleep.

is her pointless turmoil any surprise, at this point? after all that time alone in her city, somehow the thought of people actually inhabiting those empty rooms is just as distracting. she decides to go for a walk to clear her mind, and where should she end up but sitting at the edge of l'manberg's crater - feet tracing the old path to her bakery, before she burned it down with her own two hands - and who should she run into, but wilbur.

"O mighty Nemesis, amid the ruins of what she reaps," a voice drawls from behind her - and the sound of it is like ice water down her back, a harsh tug on the fragile threads barely holding her together, but she can't still bring herself to turn. Can't bring herself to see the look on his face - betrayal, fury, hatred. She lets her eyes sink onto the wreckage instead, every bitter angle of it. "I never really asked why that was your little codename, you know," he continues. "Seems a bit on the nose, don't you think?" Niki lets her forehead sink onto her knees. "Fuck off, Wilbur."

wilbur is not being his kindest. niki ponders whether she deserves it. fucking probably, right. she did try to kill his little brother. forget everything she's done since, because wilbur's always kept his allies close to his heart, and betrayal is one of those things that hurts him more than any blade would. she doesn't rise to his remarks. she sees absolutely no point in it. wilbur is stubborn as a bull when he wants to be, and after all these years niki's finally learned when to stop wasting her energy reining him in.

doesn't make her feel any better that his current rampage is directed at her, though.

he's stressed, you see - not that you would care is a halfhearted barb, and niki almost rolls her eyes at it - because he needs to find tommy. he needs to speak with tommy, but his base is empty and snowchester is empty and he's not replying to his comm and phil mentioned that he saw niki heading towards snowchester that afternoon. he doesn't suppose niki has seen tommy at all, has she?

she tries to keep her face even. but here's the thing -

niki could barely lie about committing a murder while actively leading the victim-to-be into a trap, and wilbur - who, if you think about it, never really retired from politics - sees through her attempts to evade immediately.

you know, wilbur says, and then - haven't you done enough? don't tell me you're causing trouble for him again. where is he? where is he?

she could tell him. probably, she should tell him. tommy is his brother, after all, and for all that wilbur's anger burns, she knows how much he cares about tommy. hell, once upon a time that was the entire point of her own... episode. but.

"I can't trust you," she says, pretends it sounds as definitive as she wants it to. "I can't - I don't think I can trust you to say. Not while Dream is out." Wilbur's eyebrows raise - his shoulders do too, lined with tension. "Dream is out?" "He will be. Tomorrow." Niki nods in the direction of the Arctic. "The Syndicate will be breaking him out tomorrow - not me, I'm not... with them anymore, but - didn't someone tell you?"

no, no one did. not phil, not techno, not ranboo. wilbur lives in phil's attic half the time now (more than half, she supposes, if she guesses how quackity would respond to the casino's destruction) and they hadn't said a word.

despite wilbur's apprehension over that, he has greater issues to deal with right now - incredulous that of everyone, niki doesn't trust him because of dream. (after, he reminds her - he keeps reminding her - after what she did.)

"I told you - I told you about limbo," he says, voice fraught. Even now, when they're fighting, some part of Niki hurts at the fragility in his voice. She steels her resolve. "I told you what it was like, about Dream - and you still don't trust me?" "I don't know," she says, and finds that to be, for once, the honest answer. "You said you were sorry about destroying L'Manberg too - you said you were done with all of that - and then, then Las Nevadas, Wilbur! How could you go back to that?" Even he has the shame to look abashed. "So many people could have gotten hurt. We were lucky - we were lucky - Ranboo warned us, and even then, it was close. It was too close, Wilbur. I don't - I don't know what else you'll do. I don't know anymore."

what else can niki say? yes, he told her about limbo. it sounds horrifying. it sounds heartbreaking. he also told her he was sorry for blowing up l'manberg, for forgetting the people betwixt the grand thing that was their country, and that he would try. and yet las nevadas' casino is in ruins, half the server barely escaping with a life intact. and even that was only thanks to ranboo, in the end.

more people would have died unknowing, entirely unaware of the danger until the ground lit up beneath them and they all woke up in their beds, sparkling with burns and regen effect - and tubbo has only one life left, and who even knows how lives work after revival? who knows how many other people in that casino would have one life left too?

he told her he didn't want to fuck it up again. and she told him you left me, you said you'd come back for me and you looked for the button first, and he did the entire fucking thing again.

niki could have died. again. because wilbur was silent.

this - this is the killing blow.

(for as hurt and disgusted and fucking confused as wilbur is, there is still a part of him - bone-deep and steeped in habit - that holds niki's words in high esteem. her response is perfectly predictable, in the midst of his own fury and feelings of betrayal in her direction, and yet the vulnerability of it all stings something fierce anyway.)

they splutter arguments at each other for a few more minutes, running hot with anger, but they achieve nothing. ultimately, both have said their piece - it is not long before even wilbur gives up on the conversation, retreating to the arctic.

niki is done with haunting l'manberg for the night, and returns to the underground city with an eye cast over her shoulder, just in case she's followed. wilbur is far from the type to stalk someone through the woods, but of every possible person on the server, it's his brown coat that she keeps subconsciously looking out for between the trees.

tommy is awake when she comes back, fidgeting with his comm as he sits in what was once planned to be a common area. he tries to call her over for conversation, but she brushes him off as she storms towards her bedroom, resigning herself to another night of staring eyes-wide at the grey, emotionless stone of her ceiling.

she doesn't see the frustrated kind of grief in his expression as she goes.

[milfygerard]

Where did you get four months? They were very much together at the Grammys right before her tour started.

Not Physically! And not seen at a party with her! If you look a the pr removed timeline (multiple breakup/falling apart songs recorded for and then cut from/bonus tracked for midnights esp YLM hits different and dear reader, the lover house packed up/burning imagery in the visuals that likely took at least over a month if not more time to create considering the complexity of the tour, the end of the Lavender Haze and Bejeweled MVs implying a breakup as well as the Karma vid that was likely filmed pre-tour around jan-feb which includes a visual reference to the breakup, the fact songs from TTPD was being worked on before midnights was even released) It's far more likely they broke up at an unconfirmed time likely before or around the release of Midnights, possibly earlier considering how private they were as a couple.

I also want to note that if this is the case, i am not at all begrudging taylor for this. I fully think that keeping the breakup under wraps until the eras tour was about a month in progress, allowing for the tour (and midnights as an album) to stand separate from personal strife or potential PR drama, as well as giving her time to grieve and at least start to recover. I'm not always a fan of her PR and her death grip on the narrative but in this case it was necessary for her to not just for her sanity's sake but also for her art and her career. PR work and creating relationship narratives is just another part of her job and her art, it doesnt make her "fake" or anything it just makes her an image conscious celebrity which she has always been.

Unless Taylor or some reliable source close to the situation releases a tell all with exact names and dates, we'll likely never know, but I think its important to take Taylor at her word that she is artistically a narrative builder and professionally a shrewd marketer, and that her public persona and its story is as much apart of that as her writing and songs.

[scotianostra]

Happy 78th Birthday pop star Rod Stewart.

Being Scottish is not always a physical thing,  Roderick David Stewart being one such instance, he was born in London on January 10th 1945, his father was Scottish and had been a master builder in Leith, his mum was a Londoner.

To steal the words of two Rod Stewart aonga being Scottish to him is “ You're in my heart, you're in my soul” or one that is littered with nods to his Scottish roots”Every beat of my heart” includes   “Here's one Jacobite “, “ Just for auld lang syne, “  And to the northern lights, And the swirling pipes, How they make a grown man cry”. I could fill this post up with lyrics from many of his songs, Rythm of my Heart, or his unofficial 1978 world cup song,  Ole Ola, his cover of Purple Heather, or his versions of The Skye Boat Song and Auld Land Synes .

During the 1960s, Stewart was a part of several different bands. In 1966, he joined the blues-influenced Jeff Beck Group and experienced his first taste of success. The group toured the United Kingdom and the United States and released two hit albums. In 1969, he joined what became known as the Faces. Ron Wood was one of his bandmates and became a member of the Rolling Stones. Stewart also performed as a solo artist and scored his first big solo success with the album Every Picture Tells A Story, which featured the hit single “Maggie May” in 1971. That same year, the Faces had a hit with the song “Stay With Me.”

Stewart moved to the United States in 1975. The next year, he reached the top of the U.S. charts with “Tonight’s the Night” from A Night on the Town. Stewart continued to have a slicker, more pop sound as the decade progressed. He also developed a reputation for his partying lifestyle and for dating numerous actresses and models. With 1978’s Blondes Have More Fun, he had another smash hit single with “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?”

The 1980s proved to be more challenging for Stewart. While 1981’s Tonight I’m Yours went platinum, the albums that followed did not fare as well. He ended the decade on a positive note, however. His remake of the Tom Waits song “Downtown Train” in 1989 received a lot of radio play. A few years later, he released Unplugged and Seated, which was recorded at MTV Unplugged concert and featured the hit “Have I Told You Lately.”

With his distinctive throaty, almost scratchy-sounding voice, Stewart decided to take on some of the classic songs and make them his own with It Had to be You: The Great American Songbook. He recorded four volumes of the Great American Songbook series, and won his first Grammy Award (best traditional pop vocal album) for Stardust: The Great American Songbook, Volume III in 2004.

t the age of 60, Stewart became a father for seventh time. His son, Alastair Wallace Stewart, was born on November 27, 2005. This was his first child with then fiancée Penny Lancaster. The couple married in 2007 and welcomed a second son, Aiden, in 2011. He also has a daughter, Kimberly, and a son, Sean, from his first wife Alana Stewart and a daughter named Ruby with former girlfriend Kelly Emberg. He also has two children from his marriage to model Rachel Hunter—Renee and Liam. Stewart publicly acknowledged his oldest daughter, Sarah Streeter, in 2013. Streeter was born when Stewart was only 18 years old, and he and the girl’s mother had decided to put their baby up for adoption. Stewart and Streeter first met in 2008.

In 2006, Stewart returned to rock music with Still The Same: Great Rock Classics of Our Time. The album reached the top of the pop charts in October of that year. Stewart put down the microphone and picked up a pen to write his 2012 memoir Rod: The Autobiography. The following year, he made an impressive return to songwriting with his album Time. Stewart co-wrote of many of the record’s songs as well as serving as a co-producer on the project.

Always a bit of a rascal  Rod shows no signs of living a quiet pensioner lifestyle, a couple of years ago he and his son were involved with an altercation in Florida, with Rod throwing a punch at a security guard after he refused them entry to an event.  He will need to be careful or he might end up being arrested by wife,  Penny, who as well as working as a model, has volunteered as a Special Constable in the police.

Stewart was estimated to have a fortune of £215 million in the Sunday Times Rich List of 2021, making him the 12th wealthiest person in the British music industry.

Rod was knighted in 2018 for his contributions to music and charity, and while many of us don’t agree with the notion we can’t take away that Sir Rod is not just a talented musician – he is also a philanthropist who has dedicated much of his life and resources to giving back

Sadly, life has not been so giving to Sir Rod of late. The music icon recently lost his brothers, Don and Robert ‘Bob’.

Bob died in November, a day before his 88th birthday and only two months after the loss of Don.

Recently, Sir Rod surprised a Brighton barber and singer to thank him for raising £14,000 for charity. The touching gesture from the British rock legend was shown during an episode of The One Show.

In recent years, Sir Rod’s charitable focus has become a little more direct due to his own health scares following his diagnosis of thyroid cancer (2000) and later prostate cancer (2019).  It all opened his eyes to the preciousness of life, and Stewart has now devoted much of his time to helping publicise the various fights against cancer and help those who are not as fortunate as he was.

More recently, the Maggie May rocker has also shown his caring nature by renting a home for a family of seven fleeing from the ongoing Russian war. Despite saying he usually keeps ‘all my charitable efforts nice and quiet,’ he publicised this hoping to inspire others to help.

So, as Sir Rod celebrates his 78th birthday, it is clear that he is not just a talented musician but also a kind and generous individual who has made a positive impact on the world.

Here’s to many more years of great music and philanthropy, Happy birthday, Sir Rod Stewart!

[bellakenobi]

Get to Know Me - Sims Edition

I was tagged by @puffkins2000! Thank you so much <3

What’s your favorite Sims death? I never thought about that but the death by freezing ghost is kinda cute '-'

Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Oh well. I like MM clothes, some EA hairs (the store's ones are the most usable) and also alpha hair, and the skins I use could be considered alpha but they're not uncanny valley. So I guess I'm in the middle?

Do you cheat your sims weight? Nope

Do you move objects? Yup ^^

Favorite Mod? The NRaas ones since the game is mostly unplayable without them, and Simler's mod that fix a lot of stuff, even the "natality" issue that one of the patches broke and now babies are being born in my saves without my interference or using Story Progression (that I'm too paranoid with the lag it can cause to use it)

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack? Late Night because I wanted hot tubs and the bars and vampires sounded cool too (but I don't play much with the EP features 😬)

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing? aLIVE, and well being a non-english speaker I never thought about this '-'

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? My girl Mitsuko (the one in my icon) is my fave 💚💙

Have you made a simself? Yup, and of course she got prettier lol

Which is your favorite EA hair color? ... Black? It's the only EA color that I actually use so 🤷‍♀️

Favorite EA hair? Party on the Side from the store ^^

Favorite life stage? Young Adults I guess

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? I had a sort of builder era some years ago but nowadays it seems that my creativity for that is simply gone (even tho my buildings back in the day weren't that much, but it's stuff that I look today and think "WOW I really did that 😮")

Are you a CC creator? Apparently 💀 but mostly a converter.

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad? I'm kinda closer to @deniisu-sims because we know each other online outside tumblr but people at the TS3 Creator's Cave Discord are really friendly. But it's a bit difficult to me to socialize even on the internet since being introvert IRL wasn't enough '-'

Do you have any sims merch? / A Youtube for sims? Nope but honestly if I was less shy and had a better internet connection I guess I would have a channel '-' And I've been delaying for YEARS to make a Bella Goth chibi sculpture....

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing? lol I guess it's been the same, I make a family and play with them, but lately I've been playing challenges so it can give me a direction and then I don't get bored easily.

Who’s your favorite CC creator? AAAAA DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE! But not kidding, everybody that converts the stuff from TS4 has a special place in my heart ❤❤

How long have you had Simblr? I have it since 2013 and was somewhat active around that time, went through some hiatus and now I'm back on activity since last year.

How do you edit your pictures? I use reshade, for CC previews a preset that slightly enhances color and sharpness (becuase one of my pet peeves are those CC previews that are so heavily edited that you can't see what you're actually getting), Photoscape for quick cropping and making thumbnails, and Photoshop to write stuff in previews.

What expansion/ gamepack is your favorite? I guess it's Supernatural? I like the CAS stuff, the furniture, Moonlight Falls is a nice town to play, I LOVE playing with witches, the alchemy skill and the complementing harvesteables are really cool too 😊

I tag everyone who wants to answer those ^^

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many - Chapter Twenty.

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,114

Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!

“Good morning, sunshine!”

While she might have been greeted with such a term, it was the person who used it whom Beth often equated to sunshine personified, opening her arms to give Mimi a big hug as she closed the door to Alfie’s Range Rover, arriving at the stables in good time. He’d told her it made sense to insure her on it too, should she ever want to head off anywhere without worrying about exuberant Uber fees or relying on public transport. The journey up had made Beth realise just how much she missed driving. Especially now she got to drive such a beautiful car, thanking the stars it was an automatic, as this was what she had learned in and driven back when she once owned a car herself.

“Hello, lovely girl. How are you?”

“Employed! I got the job at London Life and Style!”

Beth was thrilled for her. “Oh, well done, Mims!” she cried, another hug of congratulations following.  

“It was just the boost I needed, since Sony, Nickleodeon, a vape juice company, a builder's merchants and a small organic farm all said no. I was so surprised, but apparently, I’m just what they’re looking for. And they said they’d had a good recommendation from a certain freelance journalist, so I have you to thank.”

She had put in a good word for Mimi, this much was true. Mostly because she knew she’d be perfect for the job, but a little facet of her good deed had been driven by guilt, that because of her, Mimi’s happy relationship with Alfie had ended. She was still bowled over by how well she was taking it, until she learned that the sadness of losing her love had been somewhat softened.  

“So, I have more news!” Mimi divulged in teaser as they rode out over the fields, Beth turning to her with curiosity.

“Oh, Miss Downing-Hansen?” she began. “Do reveal!”

“I’ve met someone.” She could barely keep the smile from her face. Beth was glad, not for selfish reasons or easing of her own little slither of guilt, but because at twenty-one years old and six weeks out of her most recent relationship, Mimi was prime for a new romance. “His name is Josh; he actually works in the same building at the magazine offices are situated. We met in the lift as I was leaving from my interview! He’s twenty-six, he works at Miller Reed publishing as a copywriter and we’ve had three dates so far. I really like him, he’s so nice and easy going.”  

“And when are you seeing him again?”

“Tonight, I’m so excited! I’ve no idea where he’s taking me, I just have to be ready for 7pm for him to come and pick me up in a black cab. It’s so nice, isn’t it, in the early days of a relationship. I mean, you’re there too right now, so we can be excited together!”  

Mimi’s enthusiasm was contagious, but still, for Beth she felt a little awkward about it still.  

“You know you can be, right? Beth, you don’t have to feel bad that you’re now with my ex. If I wasn’t fine with it, I would have been selfish and hung onto him. Or I’d be behaving like that nutcase Talia. He told me on the phone a few days ago about her antics. It’s absolutely fucking shocking!”

She nodded knowingly, widening her eyes. “Oh, there’s been progression.”

Mimi’s head virtually swivelled to view her. “Progression? What, worse than throwing a glass at you and trying to gate crash parties you’re at?”

“The night before last, I had someone bang on my front door and leg it afterwards. Then they came back and did it again. I didn’t put the pieces together at first, until I realised it really couldn’t have been anyone but her. It did raise the slightly worrying concern that being she doesn’t know where I live, she must’ve been watching Alfie’s house for considerable enough time to have tracked my movements and followed me home.”  

Mimi looked stunned for a few moments, like she truly couldn’t just believe what she’d heard, going to speak, but her voice only coming out in chopped little noises. “Is she... I mean... what... the fuck?”

“I know.”

“She’s got ten years on me and she’s acting twenty younger!”

“I know!”

“I thought she was seriously beginning to lack some self-respect during the final days of her and Alfie being together, but bloody hell! That’s really taking the piss, though, acting like that. She’s so immature.” Her eyes were still wide as she processed it, shaking her head further, the whole fiasco unfathomable to her. Why couldn’t she just let Alfie move on? “What does she expect to prove by behaving like this? What, does she want him back? If so, surely she realises this isn’t the way to go about it. I mean, not that he’d be receptive to it even if she was behaving sanely. He’s in love with you and he’s happy.”

“No, I don’t think she wants him back, or at least, she does but she knows it’s over and thusly is raging about that fact,” Beth began, quietening Sunny when she spooked a little at a rabbit running out from the hedgerow, the mare having a puff and blow as she dived to the side. “I think she’s out to punish him, try and shame him with as many people there to witness it as possible by screaming her warped version of the truth. As for me, she’s trying to rattle me because she’s bitter that in her mind, I took her place. To be fair, that is what happened, just not quite in the way she’s claiming.”

Mimi snorted softly, looking empathetic. “Whatever her aim is, it’s the last thing you need, having to look over your shoulder, wondering what she’s going to do next.”  

Beth hadn’t considered escalation, but Mimi’s words suddenly made that cold, spiny feeling return to swirl in her guts. Would Talia up the ante? “Sorry, did I say something wrong?”

Mimi’s concern was touching, Beth reaching to stroke her forearm. “No, you didn’t. I just hope she doesn’t do anything next, but I have to expect that she likely will. I wonder what her end game is, but at the same time, the thought of such is a little perturbing.”

“I’m sorry, I should have been more careful with my words.”

“No, no,” Beth began, wanting to reassure her. “What you said is only natural. Whatever she does choose, though, it’s only going to prompt Alfie into filing a restraining over against her.”  

Mimi looked on with wide eyes. “You think she might do something that warrants it?”

“Well, if she’s watching our movements, she already is. What she’s doing is stalking, even though she’s only just begun, it doesn’t negate that fact.”

“I suppose not,” Mimi conceded. “Well, you get to have a nice time today with me and forget about her, so let’s change the subject.” She was only too happy to do so. “Oh! But if I can move back to an ex-girlfriend for a second, I finally heard from Amira again!”

Beth winced slightly, remembering Alfie detailing her tearful heartbreak to her. “How is she?”

“She’s doing really well, yeah. She’s gotten right back into her modelling, she apologised for ignoring me and not being in touch either, said she needed a bit of time just to get over it all and adjust to her life being so different suddenly. She revealed that while she isn’t completely over Alfie that she’s feeling stronger every day, and she wants to continue seeing me. I said I couldn’t as anything other than a friend, because of Josh, obviously, and she was really happy for me. She told me to say hello to you as well for her.”

Well, that was certainly a nice surprise for Beth to hear. Now if only the third of his exes could find a little grace.

Their day with the horses was wonderful, Mimi even managing to encourage her into taking Sunny over a fallen log fence, Beth elated since she hadn’t jumped in years and wasn’t particularly confident with it back when she had before. Mimi took photos as well while guiding her, which she was elated to see after returning back to Alfie’s, Mimi sending them over on a Whatsapp, telling her she looked forward to seeing her the following Saturday, the new friends deciding to make it a regular thing.  

“Look at you!” Alfie exclaimed, viewing the picture over her shoulder as he entered the kitchen, finding her mid-matzo snack.  

“I’m so proud of myself, I didn’t think I could do it but Mimi was so encouraging, talked me through it the entire time. She’s fantastic.”

Alfie kissed her cheek, smiling. “She is, bloody lovely girl. Did she tell you about her new fella? I’m glad she’s found someone else, glad she told me about him an’ all. I like that we’ve remained good friends.”

“She did,” Beth confirmed. “We should ask them if they want to go out as a four sometime.” Her suggestion was met by enthusiasm from him, Alfie making himself a coffee before heading back to his office. He was so close now to the whole Dubai deal beginning that he was putting most of his free time into it, Beth of course more than understanding that she had to come second for another week, until they broke ground on it and he could relax a little more.  

In the spirit of that, she gave him his space, heading home the following evening, spending the next few days at her flat, finishing her article highlighting the plight of women who had received botched plastic surgery in their quest to conform to societal-borne beauty standards and beginning the research for her new one, where she would look into women working in careers viewed as traditionally male dominated.  

It was while she was emailing a woman who worked within the car industry as an engine technician for Audi, asking if she could perhaps interview her for the piece, that she heard a banging upon her front door. Not again. She ignored it, continuing to type. Five minutes later, she heard the same again. Feeling brave, she opened the curtain, of course finding not a soul around. However, what she did see out there was a box upon the doorstep.  

Sometimes, her usual Amazon man did arrive quite late, her and the sweet Richard having a laugh about it, him knowing she was often up late so leaving her delivery until last on his way home to Wandsworth. She didn’t remember ordering anything, though, and Richard always waited until she answered the door.  

Her mind didn’t want to go to the most logical conclusion, but she couldn’t help but concede that it more than likely was Talia messing with her, trying to goad her out of the house in order to spring something on her, some kind of warped revenge. After her talk about it with Mimi five days previously, she had been expecting her to up the ante somehow.  

Heading into the hall, she hesitated, her nerves tingling, putting the chain on and opening the door while standing back and waiting. Nothing happened. She waited a little longer just to be certain, nothing but quiet outside, other than a faraway man’s voice shouting ‘oi, wait! I’ve dropped me bloody chips!’ to whomever he was with.  

Taking the chain off the door, she reached out and slid the box inside, shutting it again quickly, picking the package up to carry it through to the kitchen. It was a plain cardboard box, innocuous enough looking, Beth giving it a little shake. Something thudded softly inside, and whatever it was, it smelled pretty bad. Like a butcher's shop.  

“What on earth?” Taking a knife, she slit the tape, opening the flaps to reveal the contents. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Well, there was the butcher’s smell explained, the box containing what looked to be a cow’s heart, severed into two pieces. There was a note, too.  

“Now your heart is broken as well!”

A message, perhaps? Alfie. She hadn’t...  

Flying out of the room, she grabbed her phone, calling him.  

“Hello, baby beast. How was your night?”

Thank god. He was fine. She knew it was a ridiculous, overly dramatic conclusion to allow into her head, especially since Alfie was more than capable of defending himself, but still, she couldn’t be blamed for wondering.  

“Boo, can you come and pick me up? Something’s happened and I’m a bit scared, I don’t want to be here, I’m all freaked out!” she babbled in panic, her heart somersaulting.  

“What’s gone on, love?”

“Talia, I think she dropped a package off here meant to rattle me, and well, mission accomplished.”

He felt a knot of anger form in his stomach at hearing his ex’s name, but remained calm for Beth’s sake. “A package?”

“Just come over and I’ll show you, please hurry.”

“I’m on me way, sweetheart. You locked the door and windows an’ all that, yeah?”

“I have, yes.”

“Alright. Don’t panic, I’ll be there soon. Love you.”

“Okay, I love you too.”

She paced around, chewing her thumb nervously until he arrived, Alfie knocking and calling that it was him through the door, which she found reassuring. Letting him in, she felt instantly better for seeing her boyfriend, even more so when he wrapped her in a hug, his scent comforting. Nothing bad happened in Alfie’s arms. “What’s happened then, precious?”

“I’m probably overreacting, but come with me.” Walking to the kitchen, she opened the door and pointed at where the box was sat upon the counter. “She sent that.”

He peered in, leaning back out again at speed. “What the actual fuck is wrong with the woman? I just... I’m so sorry, darlin’.”

“Why, it isn’t your fault. This is all on her.”

He hugged her, kissing her head. “Yeah, but I was the idiot who had a relationship with her and didn’t see how mental she was right until the end.”

She appreciated him saying it, but it honestly wasn’t his fault. “You finishing with her should have been the end, but apparently she has other ideas.”  

“Not for much longer, she fuckin’ don’t.” Pulling his phone out, he rang the best legal mind for advice. “Alright, Steve. Sorry to call ya late, but I need a bit of advice.”

He detailed the situation, listening as Steve explained how the land lay legally, Alfie not looking particularly thrilled as he nodded. “Okay mate, yeah thanks for that. I’ll see ya Friday, bye.”  

“What did he say?”

Alfie scratched his beard, raising his eyebrows. “Well, since she ain’t actually threatened no one, there’s nothing we can do as yet. As and when she begins to display such behaviour is when we can take it to the police and file a restraining order. Until then, he said keep any evidence such as this, obviously you can’t keep a piece of offal that’ll rot, but take a picture and keep the note. Unfortunately, she is, as Steve said, a menace we might have to endure for a while until we can gather substantial evidence in her harassing us.”  

That didn’t particularly sit well with Beth, not able to feel safe in her own home. Alfie was quick to sense that, as well. “Pack up plenty of stuff and come stay with me for as long as you want to. I ain’t having you over here worrying yourself to death over it, darlin’.”

“Thank you.” She went through to her bedroom, Alfie wondering around her flat, the first time he’d ever been inside it. It was about the same size as his first place he’d been able to afford when moving out from his mother’s house in Camden, except not as nice as Beth’s quaint abode, full of charm and character that exuded her personality from every wall, every little piece of furniture or ornament as well.  

Grabbing her cases and hold all bags, she packed a pile of stuff, more than she probably needed, Alfie ferrying it out to his Range Rover, which he’d had to park a little way down her road, parking being so atrocious. When he came back, she was in the fridge.

“Erm, I have food at mine, petal.”

“I’ll be damned if I’m leaving my mother’s leftover kugel and my salmon pate behind to go bad!” she exclaimed, putting the dish and tubs into one of her hessian shopping bags. It was lucky she needed to do the shopping as there wasn’t much else in there, save some butter and a pint of milk she poured away, so she didn’t return to it resembling cottage cheese. Once she had those things, as well as her fruit, she packed up her laptop, grabbed her denim jacket and slid her feet into her Ugg slippers, making sure everything was switched off before locking up, dumping the cow's heart into the communal bin for her flat and the other two within the three-storey townhouse.  

“It’s alright, she ain’t gonna do nothing to you while I’m here,” he reassured her when she gripped his hand tightly, looking around everywhere.  

“I know, I’m just jumpy that she was here in the first place, that she’s been following me enough to know where I live. She must be watching your house a lot, to have seen me leave two days ago to come back here.”

“Makes me wish she was a fella, because then if I caught her doing it, I’d be able to fuckin’ headbutt her for her fuckery. But I draw the line at striking a woman.” Reaching the car, she placed her food bag in the rear footwell, jumping in, so glad to be being whisked off back to Chelsea, to the home that had the kind of security which ensured Talia wouldn’t be getting anywhere near the front door. Even if she jumped the wall, she’d be all over the CCTV.

As soon as she was across the threshold of the former church, she breathed a sigh of relief, putting the food items into the fridge and turning to hug Alfie.  

“Want me to take your mind off it?” he asked, stroking her back.  

“What did you have in mind?”  

He grinned, lifting her to perch her bum on the island, his mouth moving to leave soft kisses at the side of her neck as he pulled down her lounge suit trousers and undies, Beth letting her slippers fall from her feet. “I like where this is going.”

“I thought you might.” He pushed her back to lie flat against the island, elbows nudging her thighs apart, watching the beauty of her sex spread before him, introducing his tongue to her folds in the form of a long, flat, hard lick. Each lave was given in keener succession than the last, tasting her petal soft folds hungrily, driving glimmers through her as she warmed to him, a soft moan filling the air as he sought her clit and circled it with tight, firm sweeps.  

“Better now?”

“Ahhhhh!” That was good enough an answer for him.

“Good.” Kissing her clit, he then continued to delight it with his tongue, gently sucking, playing with her piercing, fingertips stroking her thighs as he felt her starting to get wet for him, his tongue dewy with her slick before long.

Gratification swept through her strongly as she felt his powerful hands stroke her thighs, looking up to watch him eating her, the vibrations of his moans around the mouthful of her cunt adding to the pleasure of his quick moving tongue. Each beat of it against her hardened nub caused a greater pulse of pleasure than the last, her head softly thudding back against the cool marble beneath her as she sighed breathlessly.  

He’d gotten her so sumptuously wet already that she craved the gratification of feeling him inside of her, that need somewhat sated when he licked at her glossy opening and pushed his tongue within a little, before going back to circling her aching clit. He knew she was more than ready for him, and with his erection painfully throbbing within his jeans, Alfie knew he wanted nothing more than to pull it out and arrow it straight into her velvety, wet plush. He was so ferociously aroused, he could barely stand it.  

“Ohhhh, oh fuck!” She cried, her hands clinging onto his thick biceps as he sucked at her clit, her head spinning. God, he was so good. She panted and undulated, her body moving in a serpentine manner as it thudded audibly atop the island, reaching the point of frenzied climax so quickly it took even her by surprise. Then again, this was Alfie. He was a god with his mouth. She wailed incoherently as she came against his tongue, the burst of pleasure sending ebullient tingles throughout her body, swimming in ecstasy as she panted hard, the movements of his mouth lessening until he pulled away.  

She grabbed his t shirt, yanking it over his head, Alfie stripping the rest of his attire off as she freed herself from the confines of her own remaining clothes, their kisses hungry and full of need as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands gripping as her thighs, pulling her further to the edge of the island, guiding his cock into her with a hard thrust.

Her heat yielded to him perfectly, his arms wrapping around her and hands stroking her back, keeping her steady as he began to arrow into her with sharp snaps of his hips. The lust he felt for her seeped over him like a mist, grasping her jaw, staring at her intently as he kissed her hotly, biting her lower lip, letting the soft flesh slide slowly from between the crush of his teeth, his other hand stroking tickled pitter patters up her spine, his mouth descending to sprinkle kisses across her chest.  

Beth closed her eyes and exhaled a bliss filled sigh, rolling her hips against him as she slid up and down on his erection, immersed fully in the pleasure of him inside of her. He felt beyond exquisite. All thoughts of her visitor and subsequent creepy, unwanted package were far from her thoughts as the object of her burning desire and consuming love fucked her relentlessly upon the island.  

“Fuck, oh god, ahhhh!” she panted, little exclamations still leaving her mouth thereafter until he silenced her with an explosively hot kiss, his hands pulling her against him and holding her tightly against his chest as he started to arrow her harder, his upward movements in perfect sync with each of her downward ones.

“Lean back, baby beast. Let me watch you, let me see how much you’re enjoying my cock.” Pushing her away. Beth arched her back and rested her hands behind her on the counter, giving him a full view of her, loving the view of her split wide around his hard, wet cock, His eyes shone brightly with desire, his mouth agape as he panted and groaned, lost in the pleasing view of how her body twitched and shuddered in response to him, rutting so deep inside her.  

She really began to cry out when his movements became harder, ramming every last inch of himself up into her deep, burning wetness, watching her pant and exclaim without reserve as sweat began to bead their bodies. Her entire core felt alight with incredible pleasure, exacerbated further by the addition of his thumb at her clit, rubbing it in the kind of expert way she’d come to enjoy from him. He knew exactly how to touch a woman.

The fervid, rapid nature of their furiously paced fuck was geared more towards quick satisfaction than something to be savoured, both rushing towards their culmination, Beth shattering shortly before he did, her teeth bit onto the meat of his shoulder as her nails tore the skin from his back, rendering her a senseless, shaking mess.  

“Fuck, you make me so damned cock drunk,” she panted, flopping back onto the island, her long, high pitched exclamation of ‘phewwwww!’ rousing his laughter, resting his head to her chest as he caught his breath.  

“Want me to get you even more hammered on it?”

She sat up, grinning widely. “You’d bloody better.”  

He did, too. Until three in the morning. Until they were tired and sore. He could survive on four hours of sleep for her.  

[therichantsim]

So for the last few days my daughter has been either home or coming home from work early. She’ll call ahead asking me to turn on her laptop and game. We’ve been simming together at the office table. We chat, enjoy our snacks, and pixel people. I still haven’t figured out which mod needs updating that’s preventing her sims from sleeping but for now she queues up naps or cheats their needs. Anyway, this has been fun. However, my little brownie is a Leo and has strong main character energy. So as nice as this quality gaming time has been I can’t get any real progress done on my story or my gameplay.

TO READ THE REST SEE BELOW THE CUT.

She doesn’t have TOOL mod so the apartment I built for her simself still has the mouse holes and leaking pipes. So I said just move to a nicer apartment in the art or fashion districts or a house. I showed her the San Sequoia house I did that looks like a townhouse. She loved it. I said pack your sims things in the household inventory, delete the kitchen and baths so get the money and sell what you didn't want to keep. That way you can furnish the house with the items from the household. She damn near deleted everything except their beds and one sofa.

I’m like… “THATS NOT WHAT I SAID DO!” So she begs me to furnish the house. She goes on about building and decorating is NOT her ministry. She’s a CAS and skill building game player. I sigh and give in and slide my laptop to the side and began to quickly furnish her house. I’m not trying to get lost in the details of clutter and wall art. It can looked like they just got settled in for awhile. I finish and resume my taking pics for my story so I can go play on my gameplay save.

DO YOU KNOW SHE ENDED UP SAVING AND CLOSING HER SIMELF SAVE JUST TO OPEN ANOTHER SAVE INSTEAD!!

I look up and she’s playing the Sims I built that huge Alto apartment for. Planning their wedding and she asked if I had a wedding venue in the gallery. I said no but I follow enough builders that do so go look at theirs. She says but I want a RichAnt original. I said what difference does it make only you will see it. You don’t even take pictures. So anyway, she’s at work today and I think she has clients all day. But I get a text asking me if I could dress all her male sims for the bachelor party and wedding because I was so fast and decisive. Also, could I build a modern house in the Pinnacles for them to live in after the wedding? ON THE 64X64 LOT!!

This is not the quality time I was hoping for but she did cook some really good curry chicken for dinner. Everyone knows good food is my love language.

[calchexxis]

Rogue Lords game rec

Ever wanted to play the Devil himself directing a cadre of infamous evils against an oppressive church, all for the sake of bringing yourself back from Hell?

That’s admittedly a very specific desire, but it’s the premise of the game that has my attention, which is Rogue Lords. It’s a really excellent roguelike that has done what all roguelike’s aspire (and fail) to do, which is that it’s mastered its gameplay loop. Other games that I would consider to have achieved this notable milestone are games like Darkest Dungeon, Hades, Iratus, and FTL.

So you know this game is, at least in my opinion, sitting amongst storied company.

I’d actually compare this game most favorably to a Deck Builder like Monster Train, because with the bevy of skills also come a map location called Sacrificial Altars, which not only remove and replace a skill from one of your villains’ loadouts for that run, it also prevents that skill from appearing during that run when you acquire new skills. This allows you to weed out damage or skill types that aren’t favorable to your current run, and permits the player a lot more control over their builds.

The basic loop is this: Select three lords out of the available colorful villains you’ve unlocked (you begin with Dracula, Bloody Mary, and the Headless Horseman), and start a book. Each villain has something like twenty (give or take) different skills that can create a variety of interesting builds, and you acquire skills at random along the way, which is where a lot of the skill comes in.

There’s a lot of Hades in this particular game mixed with a robust turn-based combat system. Every villain’s abilities cost AP to use, you start with a default of 5 AP, with abilities and permanent-for-that-run powerups called Relics that are able to add to that number. 

There are a lot of mechanics to manage in each book that allow for different bonuses: Things like your Terror level, which can provide free relics, bonuses on upcoming event locations, and also increases the rarity of skills that you’re offered when you acquire them through battle or otherwise. Managing map progress and planning your route is incredibly important, as taking risky battles usually provides high rewards.

But the big mechanic is the thing I’ve been saving for last.

You’re playing the Devil, and the Devil cheats.

When you start a book, you begin with a certain amount of Essence based on the difficulty you’re playing on. You, as the player, may stop time at any point either during battles or in the overworld to spend essence in order to cheat the system. During battles you can do things like adjust health and move status conditions between enemies and allies, on the overworld you can open demonic portals to skip your party past unfavorable locations and even replace certain locations with a random one that might be better suited or more useful.

I love this. I love being able to just actively cheat. You have to carefully manage your essence, though, since the game accounts for this in its difficulty. During the course of each book there are necessary Elite fights you need to complete to progress, and oftentimes if you don’t have enough essence, you’ll simply lose because you couldn’t manage the battle efficiently enough. 

Overall this game is a strong 9/10: It’s incredibly creative, colorful, and devilishly charming, with the only small annoyance being that the enemies do get repetitive after awhile. It’s always the same types of enemies no matter which book you’re progressing through, and although there are enough to make the first couple interesting, they eventually become (in some cases annoyingly) familiar faces (I’m looking at you, Polaris Sisters).

[viralzone]

ROCAILLE28 : REJECT. RINSE. REPEAT.

ROCAILLE28 is a hypothetical roguelike about countercultural communities and capitalism's brutal cycling and exploitation of human bodies.

originally created for a uni project but i want to continue it :3

The surface is populated by discarded androids dropped down by the ROCOCO, an aristocratic society of individuals atop a massive tower in the wasteland. the surface is divided into two major factions: SIMULACRA & SIMULATION.

SIMULACRA are communal and have a culture based around raving and open sex, celebrating their painful lives in opposition to the DISEASE that prevents them from dying naturally and degrades their bodies more and more through each forced rebirth until they become fully possessed. As their bodies are extensively modded and high maintenance, their experiences of sex and intimacy are much more expansive and not constrained to the idea of penetrative sex and the act of procreation as “true” intimacy.

SIMULATION, by contrast, is growing in influence as they promise “reform” and more “sophisticated” models of living that emulate the ROCOCO atop the tower. They denounce the lifestyles of the SIMULACRA as debased, equating them as the reason they are cursed with the DISEASE. In order to reach the ideal of ROCOCO living they go to extreme lengths to obscure their own infections and modify their bodies not as a form of self-expression, but towards the goal of complete cultural hegemony within their faction and the SIMULACRA as well.

WHAT IS DISEASE? A strange illness that infects android bodies and prevents them from dying in a conventional manner, contorting their bodies and adopting any number of strange properties throughout its growth until the individual is fully possessed and becomes a mere husk. The process of infection is extremely painful and a lifelong affliction. If the afflicted dies at any point before the DISEASE fully possesses them they are forcibly resuscitated, quickening the pace of its growth in exchange.

MODEL 28 : FEVER Fever is a combat model discarded to the surface after the experimental procedures used to create him failed according to the ROCOCO's expectations: procedures that have accelerated the rate of DISEASE growth in his body and left him thirsty for revenge.

MODEL 89 : ANTIGEN A happy-go-lucky nurse by day, tattoo artist by night who's the life of the party. Unapologetically horny and charming, many frequent his shop with vague injuries just to talk to it before one thing leads to another… inevitably turning into sex.

The rest of the main cast with whom Fever can associate with on their commune before venturing into the Tower.

GAMEPLAY The Tower gameplay functions as you would imagine any other action-roguelike would, with the main thing setting it apart being the delicate balance of SP - Sanitation Points - and DISEASE. The former influences the rate of growth of the latter - the latter increases Fever's power at the risk of permadeath at 100%. A game over from depleted HP does not cause permadeath but just boots the player back to the surface; a viable strategy to preserve your progress should the DISEASE rising become too risky to keep playing.

Mockup UI screenshots.

The commune has three functions: Bonding with NPCS for scenes that can influence story progression, preparing for the treks up the Tower with limited upgrades - the SIMULACRA do not have an economy and merely provide what each android needs to have their basic needs met and "Commune Calibration", a town builder mode where you can help develop the town for yet more unlocked story progression options, opening up another ending as well as providing Fever with more facilities to engage with.

and that's all from me! i want to keep developing the project so keep an eye out!

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READ ReLOAD RODEO ON ITCH.IO

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PATREON

[gothicprep]

the fact that every video essayist and their dog has made something about "the probelm with lefty debate livestreamers" (debate bros) is a bit confusing to me. there's a historical error underpinning the bulk of it, and the most common criticism is one that, to me, is sort of logically inconsistent.

for one, this isn't anything all that new. if you look at really early videos from, say, shaun and hbomberguy, you'll notice that a lot of them are structured as response videos to other creators on youtube. the main thing that differentiates a debate livestream from something like "sargon of akaad can't read" or "the sarkeesian effect: a measured response" is the format, length, and minor differences in the affect. even if seeing a guy dunk on another guy probably isn't the best way to learn something new, enough time has passed that i think we can state pretty confidently that these videos played a contributing role to manosphere fans eventually course-correcting.

there's also this thing people will do where they'll treat the progressive party in the conversation as largely incapable of having an effect on anyone's worldview, but someone with right-wing or full-on fascist proclivities has ideas that are so radioactive that they have the power to convert anyone who comes into contact with them. if i had to wager why, it seems like a critique for, like, ben shapiro misapplied where it doesn't quite fit. ben's "debates" with college students were structured much differently – the entire audience is hostile to the people challenging him, only he has the podium, etc. these elements are sort of neutralized when it's two livestreamers arguing with one another.

the reason i'd say the format has value in principle is that the righty manosphere types are symbolism over substance. their main thing is marketing an aesthetic of strength to high school-ish aged boys, and this demographic group isn't attracted to them based on a set of principles they reasoned their way into. why do you think so many of these influencers are body builders or use statues as avatars? it's all symbolic, baby. so, if you're watching your favorite pickup artist alpha chad daddy getting cucked in a debate with a beta soy whatever... i can see how something like that would shake a viewer's confidence in their commitment to all of this. it might not be overnight, but "this probably isn't as badass as i thought it was" is the first thing you need to sell. and even if this sort of debate is nothing more than pageantry, it's capable of accomplishing this.

i'm sure i'd be able to come up with some alternative criticisms if i could ever justify sitting down and watching 12 hours of vaush shit. i'm also someone whose ideas have very little influence in any polical conversation, so i'd require a hell of a lot more attention in order for me to justify that.

[expirisims]

Secret Love and Bachelor Parties

As dawn approaches we are across town by the Jones residence. This household consists of Thomas Jones, whom you’ve met, who works in the science field, Kyle Baldwin (and his robot alter ego) who also works in science, Woodrow Chadwick, who works in the music field--and is quite the guitarist, Harold Weldon, a smooth talking sim in the criminal field, Jaime Torrez a klepto criminal and his girlfriend Adriana Bright a robot builder.

Adriana was originally part of the last household in rotation, the Stockton household, but she did not get along with the others and SP moved her in with Jamie pretty early on. 

And here we have Jamie and Harold in a few stolen moments while Woodrow is busy checking himself out in the bathroom. I really wish I’d taken a proper screenshot. Jamie has been with Adriana from pretty early on as I said, but he never gets the attractive company moodlet around her. He DOES every time he’s around Harold and the feelings are mutual. They haven’t acted on it yet, but I can’t imagine they’ll hold out forever, these two are REALLY into each other!

There was no robotics lab or any place in town for Adriana to actually use to progress in her career so at the start of day two I built a complete science lab at the Science rabbit hole. The robot creation machine is on one end and the chemistry set is on the other. Adriana went right to work. I figured she could use some science skills too so I sent her to work at the chemistry station when I got a notification!

I’ve only actually done bachelor and bachelorette parties a couple of times before, but what better group to have a shindig? So, I accepted the notification for Thomas to have a bachelor party and of course had to invite the Redwood Harbor party god himself, Reggie!

[digitalhustler]

"Systeme.io Review: The Ultimate Business Solution in 2023"

An all-in-one platform called Systeme.io assists small firms and solopreneurs in managing their web presence and streamlining their business processes. It offers a wide range of tools and services that let users to start an online store, build websites, manage their funds, interact with consumers, and automate operations. Systeme.io is the ideal tool for companies looking to expand their online presence and streamline their operations thanks to its user-friendly interface, adaptable templates, and integrations with well-known third-party applications.

In this review, we'll examine Systeme.io's various features and services in more detail and discuss why it's a great choice for startups and small enterprises.

Website Builder

Users may easily develop a professional-looking website using Systeme.io's user-friendly website builder without knowing any coding or other technical terms. The builder provides a variety of editable templates that are simple to modify to meet the unique requirements of a firm. A responsive website that looks amazing on all devices may be simply created by users by adding text, images, videos, and other content to their website.

The website builder also gives users a variety of customization options so they may fit their website to the distinct aesthetic of their business. Users may construct a website that exactly reflects their brand by selecting from a variety of font styles, color schemes, and background images. For those with more technical knowledge, the website builder also offers more complex customization possibilities, such as custom CSS.

Online Store

Additionally, Systeme.io offers an online store builder that enables customers to easily open an online store and begin selling their goods. Users of the store builder can add products, manage their inventory, and accept payments with ease. It offers a variety of editable templates that can be tailored to a business's particular needs. Popular payment gateways like PayPal and Stripe are integrated into the store builder so customers may start accepting payments immediately.

Systeme.io offers advanced capabilities that enable companies to run their online stores more successfully in addition to the fundamental store construction tools. Users can modify product specifications, control shipping costs, and use the platform's integrated tax calculator to make sure they are charging the appropriate amount of taxes. Additionally, the platform offers in-depth statistics that show companies how their online store is doing and what they can change to make it better.

Project Management

Businesses can successfully manage their projects and workflows thanks to the robust project management solution offered by Systeme.io. Several features offered by the project management application make it simple for users to create projects, assign tasks, and monitor their progress. The platform also offers a variety of collaboration options that make it simple for team members to communicate and stay up to date on the most recent changes, such as comments and alerts.

Businesses can manage their projects and workflows within a single platform thanks to the project management tool's integration with other Systeme.io capabilities like the online shop builder. Due to this, organizations can easily monitor the status of their projects and make modifications as needed without switching between several applications.

Customer Relationship Management

Businesses can manage their relationships with customers and automate their sales and marketing operations with the help of Systeme.io's robust customer relationship management (CRM) platform. The CRM tool offers several features that make it simple for businesses to engage with their consumers and advertise their goods and services, like lead acquisition, lead management, and email marketing.

Businesses can manage their customers' work thanks to the CRM tool's integration with other Systeme.io tools like the project management tool and the online store builder.

Affordability

The platform has a variety of pricing options and is among the most cost-effective products available. This indicates that organizations of various sizes can utilize the platform, and they can do so without spending a fortune.

In conclusion, Systeme.io provides businesses with everything they require to operate and expand, and it is both simple to use and reasonably priced. Regardless of whether you run a small or large firm.