#tapster

[tenth-sentence]

In 1540, the town of Chester ruled that no woman aged between 14 and 40 years could keep an ale house or serve as a tapster, imposing the staggering fine of 40 shillings.

"Normal Women: 900 Years of Making History" - Philippa Gregory

[thedaveandkimmershow]

In the winter, sleeping in on our birthdays makes our birthdays seem objectively shorter. You leave the house around noon or after, you've got about four hours of birthday in there.

Not really, of course. It just feels like that since we lose the daylight a little after four in the afternoon.

A seriously short day.

Two days after the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice. 

So this year we get up when we normally get up for work, somewhere between 7 and 8 with teas, coffee, and a latte. Nine-ten we're out the door and into the theater with a tub 'o buttered popcorn by 930 for a bunch of trailers and, finally, "The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes".

We were the only ones there.

We are definitely watching that again.

Friend of ours isn't a fan. A bunch of people aren't fans of the movie. But we were hooked, engaged by the head-game vibe of the story. There are definitely questions littered about like landmines and we want at least another go at watching the movie for understanding.

It feels like there's more there there.

Twelve-thirty we're out of the theater and back to the house to pick up birthday brownies that'll come into play when we're down at Linzy's place. Linzy, by the way, is working her music teacher gig that'll end at two.

Two-twenty we drive up to her place, she arrives a coupla minutes after, grabs the birthday brownies from Kimmer, sets them in her apartment, jumps into the car, and we head off to Tapster for drinks.

It's never just drinks at Tapster, of course. It's an experience.

They've got swings for crying out loud. Which are the "seats" Kimmer 'n Linzy chose once they had their first round of drinks in hand.

By the way, I didn't want to drive into town. Didn't want to deal with parking that I presumed would be impossible. My idea, which remained just an idea, was to park at Northgate and light rail into town. Instead, we picked Linzy up at her place, drove down to that parking lot in front of the Wooden Boats place and BAM.

Found our parking spot first thing.

Three-thirty we hail a Lyft that drops us on the corner of 1st & Pine fifteen minutes later. We start walking down Pine and immediately start thinking this is the exact stretch of sidewalk Tom Hanks and Rob Reiner walked up (or down) in the movie, "Sleepless In Seattle".

Halfway down the block, we're sucked into Sur La Table, the kitchen store. Not sure how long we're in there but we look at a lot of kitchen accessories.

Then we're out the door, down to the corner, across the street passed the guy playing his mini piano on wheels on the opposite corner. Up the block some more and we catch the trail to Pike Place Market Creamery, our first intended stop at the Market.

Why?

'Cause none of us has been able to score eggnog at any of our usual grocery stores. And sure enough, the Creamery has some. In glass bottles, no less.

And definitely tasty.

Next stop's across the street, over by where they throw fish, down the stairs just to the right, down a flight, down a hall, down some stairs, backtrack a little on the next floor down to Golden Age Collectibles, the Sci-Fi store of my youth... the comic book store of our friend Susan's time working at the main branch of the Seattle Public Library.

Magnets, by the way. In a store packed with people browsing a multitude of collectibles, magnets are what caught our eyes and kept catching our eyes.

We couldn't get enough. They were hysterical.

We were there a bit, then after started thinking about dinner so we headed back to the stairs with the intention of walking down to the waterfront. As we're almost to the stairs, though, Kimmer spots a restaurant down an adjacent hall. Sound View Cafe. With, yes. A wonderful view of Eliott Bay, the Sound, and the sunset behind it.

And, of course, the tasty A1 burgers set before us on the table.

Quarter to Six we walk out of the Market, across the street, making our way to Westlake Mall for a more intense Christmastime vibe slash photo op.

Eventually, we make it to Nordstrom and their Ebar Artisan Coffee shop for our evening's hot beverages. Then we're up up up to and across the sky bridge to Pacific Place where we completely disapprove of the remodel. Linzy objects on the basis of the shops are waaaaaaay out of her price range. We object on the basis of it's not as charming as it used to be.

By 'n by, we make our way to the ground floor and pop back out onto Pine, walking toward the Macy's Star. Crossing 6th toward Nordstrom, we join a group of parents and kids watching the going's on inside Nordstrom's Santa Lane.

It really is worth a moment of your time watching Santa and his visitors through the glass. It's also worth a moment of your time watching people watch Santa and his visitors. Including some little people with their noses pressed right up to the glass.

It's addicting to watch the activity both inside and outside the Lane.

Six-thirty we catch a Lyft down the block and to the left. Drops us at our car at South Lake Union. Then we drive up the hill to Linzy's place where, once again, we get excessively lucky with parking. ☺️

Inside Linzy's place, birthday brownies are immediately put to good use, preceded by a touch of candle lighting and a round of "Happy Birthday".

Linzy was pretty full from dinner by that point so it was Kimmer 'n me partaking of the chocolate-y chewy goodness.

Linzy has a friend whose birthday's the same day as mine so she has another party to attend. With that in mind, we hit the road at 730 (hugs and good wishes all around) while she gets ready.

Now, my birthday's not yet over but we are transitioning to our Christmas plans. Therefore, our next stop's at Total Wine & More in Alderwood to build up our holiday stock. Interestingly, we don't seem to be much in need... and wind up walking away with just the one six-pack of Clausthaler Grapefruit Non-alcoholic Beer.

That's okay, though. It's festive!

Eight-thirty we're home packing and wrapping presents.

That's me, by the way. Kimmer, on the other hand, is writing inside the birthday card she crafted for me and also wrapping my birthday presents.

The presents, by the way, include a glass ornament in the shape of an old television set with color bars in the screen, a black t-shirt that reads "It's Not A Dad Bod... It's A Father Figure", and a much better thermos to replace my old one.

So.

My birthday came to a close around 930 that night with the opening of my birthday card and gifts.

Beyond that?

Getting ready for the impending Christmas.

🤩🤩🤩

[daveinediting]

Well dang. We did it.

Again.

First time with horror, though. And that was for sure different.

The starting gun actually goes off at 7pm Friday with all teams, through a random drawing, committing to a Horror sub-genre plus specifically required elements including a character name, line of dialogue, and a prop.

By first thing Saturday morning I have a script to study. By 2pm I have the morning's footage to review and organize and cut. By 630 I have the second, final batch of footage.

Choosing to deal with what I already have on the table I ignore the afternoon's footage (other than confirming its playback from my drives). I don't log it. I don't tag it. 

By the time I do, though, get around to looking at that footage for the first time, it's 11:30. Still Saturday. But just barely.

And by the time I'm done reviewing and tagging and cutting that footage into the film and finessing the whole thing...

Yeah.

It's 4:30 Sunday morning.

A.M.

Factor in a little time for file export, upload, and emailing the director...

And now it's 4:45 that I'm slipping into bed. Of course now it's fifteen minutes later because I forgot to feed the cat hours earlier and if he's not gonna get to eat...

He's gonna make sure I don’t get any sleep.

So I'm finally in bed for real after feeding the cat at 5 Sunday morning.

Cut to black.

Four hours later, that same morning, I’m up, out and about. Moving pretty okay. Mental faculties seemingly intact. Kimmer ‘n I both take a bit of time for breakfast and lounging in bed. Like it’s a normal Sunday morning. You know?

10:30am I'm back to work on credits, texting with the film’s composer, futzing with the 48hfp required slate, as well as filling out, scanning, and emailing the required project and materials waivers.

Noon, Sunday, the producer and director show up for an afternoon of fixes, tightening, and polishing the film to within an inch of its life.

3pm I'm exporting the file of our film, run into a problem with the title animation, fix the title animation then export the whole thing again. Watched that file with the producer and director. Transferred the file to a flash drive and watched it again from that drive out of sheer, well...

You only get one shot to get this right. So when you do have the time...

You verify everything.

That's just how it goes.

After that, a little socializing and the producer and director are on their way out the door.

Four o'clock.

Sunday afternoon.

Three hours ahead of the deadline.

BAM.

Of course there's still paperwork and uploading our file to the 48hfp servers, but—

That's not my problem.

😊

My part's done and soon Kimmer 'n I are off to, well, first a car wash for the car but right after that drinks at Tapster, sitting out on the patio with a view of South Lake Union. Basically we're in tees, shorts, and flip-flops.

In October for crying out loud.

After we're back at the apartment for a bit, Linzy comes over and we watch the back half of "Enola" on Netflix because we watched the front half the week before and we all love this movie.

It’s a classic. Plus, the sequel drops on November 4.

Around 10pm Linzy 'n I walk the neighborhood a bit, basking in the gloriously cool air starting to fill the city. 

By the way, last year, after my first experience with the competition, Kimmer 'n I celebrated at Maggie Bluffs over at the marina in Magnolia. This year, July, we celebrated at Cactus in South Lake Union. 

I look forward to that, is all I'm saying. Not just finishing a short film (6-1/2 minutes this time around)... but also, to have a normal Sunday evening after such a stunningly abnormal Saturday night.

🙂

[hallaslin]

I love you fanon Oghren I hate you Canon Oghren

[vigilskeep]

members of house helmi in da:o

lady helmi, the outspoken older woman who is willing to tell the king’s favourite child to their face that they’re a fool and their mother would “melt the stone” if she knew how they just let themself get played. assuming she is adal’s mother (see below), she supports bhelen

lord denek helmi, the self-described youngest and most outspoken deshyr of the assembly, who disappoints his esteemed mother—presumably lady helmi—by spending time in tapster’s, complaining about the caste system and how all the lords are “well-dressed, blood-sucking cave ticks”. he has a deal on with harrowmont for land, but is unbothered by breaking it when the warden arrives with bhelen’s “proof” of double-dealing

adal helmi, who defies tradition to enter the provings as a woman, and considers a female aeducan an inspiration. she prefers harrowmont, but defers to her mother’s vote for bhelen

jaylia helmi, who we don’t meet but we know was being courted as the intended bride and queen of trian

nerav helmi, who was considered to marry a male aeducan—“after all, under different circumstances, we might have been married”—even though trian was courting jaylia?? talk about house aeducan putting all their eggs in one basket. anyway she refers to herself as “third daughter of the second matron of house helmi”, perhaps implying she is not lady helmi’s daughter, assuming lady helmi, who represents her house at major events, is whatever “first matron” is. nerav also implies jaylia is her sister by saying to a female aeducan that they would have been sisters-in-law under other circumstances. nerav openly despises “that monster, bhelen” and supports harrowmont

this is for my own reference but also so everyone understands my house helmi playing all sides so they always win jokes.

it’s also worth saying that there is ANOTHER set of helmi girls on the surface as part of the merchants’ guild, because in the legacy dlc hawke can say in banter with varric that “i heard you’re being fixed up with one of the helmi daughters”, to which varric mentions “dusana helmi is easy on the eyes. also, she’s tried to kill me five times this year”. they’re everywhere

[chaoticfella]

SO UHH Recently I saw this post by @/deathdetermineslife AND I JUST THOUGHT THIS IS GONNA BE 'DRUNKLOVE' NO MATTER WHAT. And rn I'm giggling so stupidly please send help

Sсetch below the cut because I don't wanna torture with long posts :'D

Someday I'll do normal art or backgrounds instead of scetch but right now I just wanna be happy ANYWAY Tapster is my kid andd LL is @cookiejamms kiddo

[eightyonekilograms]

This drunk guy came up to us at Tapster and after asking "are you in tech?" began pitching us his startup. It was some kind of analytics/PowerBI tool for embedded systems or industrial tooling, or something like that.

The guy was completely full of shit, but at one point he used the phrase "we use data as the working fluid". Which is total nonsense, but is actually so poetic I think it will stick with me.

[brocflowers]

Of A Particular Quality

Chapter 8: Upon the place beneath

But how ugly it feels, to show someone a way out and then snatch it away at the last moment. How dishonorable. How un-warriorlike. How disgusting.

Word count: 1,733

[AO3]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter] - [Chapter 1]

-

Davedna is compliant as she leads him back through the bar, the knife she has pressed against his ribs through his clothes helps ensure that.

Leske follows a few feet behind.

She’s taken care to make sure her knife isn’t visible to any of Tapster’s other patrons, but no doubt more than a few of them still understand what’s happening. It’s not a hard thing to guess.

A few people glance at them as they pass, but they look away just as quickly. They don’t stare. They know better than that.

(Brosca can’t shake the feeling that one pair of eyes followed her all the way from the back of the room to the door, but chalks it up to her own nervousness. She’s too intimidating to be looked at like that. It’s too unlikely to be true.)

“See ya,” Leske says behind them, as Brosca yanks open the door and ushers Davedna through it.

“Yeah,” Budimir replies, voice pitying, “see you around.”

Given how it’s going, Brosca doubts that’s true.

The air outside the bar is just as warm, but not nearly as wet. It smells like dirt and coal and faintly of bronto shit, which is quite a relief. Brosca relaxes into it almost instantly.

She releases Davedna’s arm for a moment so that she can signal Leske, and he tenses. It's the kind of high-keyed tension you see in animals right before they bolt, and she doesn’t like that at all. She presses her knife more harshly against his ribs with the other hand to remind him why that’s a bad idea.

(She imagines it, briefly. The aftermath of him trying to run, her digging in with the knife as he does so, him dragging his own body against the blade, cutting himself open on it and then stumbling, clutching at himself. How far would he get? How much blood would there be, how-

She shakes her head harshly, the thought dissipates.)

Middle, pointer, and thumb extended, she lifts her left hand so it can be seen over shoulder and shakes it three times. Leske grunts in acknowledgment as he shoves the door closed behind them. She chooses not to read too much into his tone.

It occurs to her that she might be making a mistake, but she grabs Davedna’s arm again and leads him down the street.

“Where-”

Another press of the knife. He goes quiet.

They go past the first alley, then the second. When they get to the third she makes a sudden right, throwing Davedna off balance briefly before she rights him, starts dragging him deeper into the soot-black shadows that fall between the buildings. Deep enough that they won’t be seen easily from the street. Deep enough that if something goes badly, they may not even be heard.

She doesn’t check over her shoulder to see if Leske’s doing as she asked. There’s no reason to expect he wouldn’t.

The air in Davedna’s chest rushes out sharply when she shoves him back against the wall. He winces, sounding genuinely pained, and she barely supresses the instinct to apologize, turning the noise into a throaty growl instead.

It brings up an odd memory, something she doesn’t think about often. Years ago, Rica chastising Leske when she thought Brosca couldn’t hear them. I hate that you encourage him to do that, she said, my brother is not an animal.

She fists one hand in his shirt, puts the knife to his throat with the other, sharp edge close to his skin, denting it without cutting, but too sudden or sharp of a movement from him will change that very quickly. And then she waits. Stands still and quiet until his eyes are on her and she can be sure he’s listening.

Once she has his attention, she pulls down her scarf so her lips are visible, speaks slowly and clearly. She doesn’t want to repeat herself.

“What are you going to do if I let you go?”

“Leave,” he says, quickly, “I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again. I’ll run back to my room to get my things and-”

Brosca jostles him threateningly, snarls.

“Wrong.”

“I’ll… head straight for the door?”

She nods.

“You’re going to head for the surface straight from here,” she confirms, “you’re not going to stop, you’re not going to talk to anyone. Understand?”

“I understand. Fully. I fully understand.”

“Good. Get your hand off me.”

“What?”

She tenses her jaw. His hand is looped loosely around her wrist. It seems like it was an unconscious movement on his part, something meant to balance himself, and not an attempt to break her hold on him. Still, she doesn’t like it.

“Get your hand off my fucking wrist,” she growls out, and he jerks away from her like her skin has burned him.

He holds his hand out to the side, palm showing, smiles at her weakly. White, straight teeth on full display once again.

“Sorry,” he says, “so sorry.”

“Now pay attention.”

“I will ser, I will. One hundred percent.”

Ser rattles around in her head for a moment, like a misshapen pebble in a beggar’s cup. She keeps going.

“I was going to kill you quickly,” she tells him, “it wasn’t going to hurt. But if Beraht finds out you’re still alive, he’ll be angry, and he’ll tell the next person he sends to make it as painful and as slow as possible. Understand?”

Davedna nods. He looks a little pale, which is the proper response.

“I’ll be angry also. If Beraht doesn’t get to me before you, I’m going to be the one hurting you. Understand that?”

“Crystal clear,” he squeaks, “it-it won’t come to that. I promise. No one’s going to find out I’ll-I’ll disappear. Good as dead, you’ll never see me in Orzammar again. I’ll- you know I’ve been thinking about moving to the surface permanently anyways? Start a dry goods shop, settle down finally. Get out of the nug race once and for all. I’m not getting any younger, you know, and honestly the stress is-”

“Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t care.”

“Sorry.”

“Why would I care about any of that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he says, bared teeth as bright as the shine in his eyes, “Sorry, I’m- sorry.”

In all honesty, she does care, to a degree. The fact that he has any plans at all suggests he’s more likely to actually do what he’s promising he’ll do. That he’ll just disappear.

Caring isn’t very threatening, though. It doesn’t encourage compliance.

Deep breath. It’s not too late, she can still go back. Kill him, end this, it would be like it never even happened.

But how ugly it feels, to show someone a way out and then snatch it away at the last moment. How dishonorable. How un-warriorlike. How disgusting. She doesn’t like what it would make her. Something that toys with its prey before it kills it.

My brother is not an animal.

Brosca untangles her hand from his shirt, takes a step back.

He seems lost at first, as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself now that there isn’t a knife to him. A bronto belatedly realizing that it’s lost its tether, a nug finding itself, unexpectedly, for the first time in its life, outside of the pen.

“Follow the alley this way,” she says, pointing with the knife, “before it starts veering left, there’s a right turn, take it. You’ll be on a road with rounded tiles, follow it until you’re behind the baths and then go right again. There’s a vein of mountain glass beneath the street, follow it and it will spit you out right by the door. Be fast, don’t stop until you’re out.” She tilts her head at his blank look. “Do you need me to repeat that?”

That seems to snap him out of it. He shakes his head, pushes off the wall.

“No. No no! I’ve got it. Understood. Thank you, I- thank you.” He gapes at her for a moment, his eyes seem wet, “You're- you’re as kind as you are beautiful.”

She stares at him, baffled.

“Handsome?” he tries again, “is that closer? Handsome and merciful? Sorry. I don’t spend enough time down here and on the surface they don’t have- I mean, they do but its not quite the same as-”

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

“Why are you still talking?”

“That’s- right. That’s completely fair.”

He hurries past her, talking the whole time.

“May the Ancestors bless your steps, m-may your nephews be lords and kings!” He pauses in front of her briefly, then seems to think better of it. “Atrast nal tunsha, brother, atrast nal tunsha.”

Brosca watches his back as he scrambles away, to make sure he turns where she told him to.

He checks over his shoulder, just once, looks directly at her. The silver light of his eyes two pinpricks in the distant dark. And then he disappears around the corner. She listens as his footsteps grow fainter.

Atrast nal tunsha, she thinks, still a little bit shocked. May the Ancestors bless your steps.

Neither are common phrases in Dust Town. The latter for obvious reasons, most casteless believe as the castes above them do, that they have no Ancestors to bless them. The former is not so clear, maybe just so few of them speak the old language that it fell out of favor. Rica certainly seems to believe that the phrase’s popularity in the noble caste is simply a result of, what was the word she used, pretension? An expression of superiority, one-upmanship. Diamond Quarter residents showing off their fine breeding and education, how much closer to their Ancestors they are than you are to yours, close enough that they can speak in the same tongue, while you chatter in Trade with the surfacers.

Brosca’s always liked it though. It rolls off the tongue like good water, sweet and clean. Atrast nal tunsha. May you find your way in the dark. It’s a nice thing to wish for someone.

Brother, she thinks. What a stupid thing to call someone who nearly killed you.

She hopes he makes it.

She watches the shadows that he slipped away into for a long few moments, thinking about nothing in particular while she taps her fingers against her thigh, then turns around and heads back for the street.

[inkyleaf]

TG 210: Goblin Gambit (M-Humans to F-Goblins)

Note: The following story depicts a budding incestuous relationship.

-------------

“Ready to finally get out of this dreadful town?” a young man named Arthur asked his brother Theodoric as he tightened his boots. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Theo replied with a sigh, then continued: “You’re sure about this? Leaving mother and father to tend to the house and farm until this expedition is over and through?” Arthur laughed, scratching his short dirty blond beard. “You know they’ll be fine, brother! Besides, do you really want to stay cooped up in this tiny village when so much of the world is out there – unknown, and waiting to be discovered? And who’s to say we don’t encounter riches for the whole family along the way, aye?”

Ever since Arthur was a little boy, he’d always dreamt of exploring the world, as he’d grown up in a small medieval village known for its agriculture. His brother Theo was timid by comparison, but was always levelheaded and kept his brother out of trouble. Although Theo was hesitant about leaving his aging parents, he wanted to accompany Arthur on his journey to ensure that he stayed safe. Perhaps Arthur’s extravagant optimism and excitement was rubbing off a bit, too.

The brothers set off by horseback after hugging their parents goodbye, promising to return better than they left. Looking up from his map, Arthur loudly declared: “We’ll arrive at Feyhelm before the sun sets! Think of how good the ale will taste at the tavern, brother! This is only the beginning!” “I’ll hold you to that!” Theo said back with a grin as they both urged their horses to gallop faster. Without any words, the gallops quickly turned into a race that left a trail of dust in their wake.

Arthur arrived at the distant town of Feyhelm a good while before Theo caught up just as the sun was setting. Recognizing Arthur’s horse tied to post at the tavern, Theo followed suit and found his brother laughing and drunk with a group of strangers huddled over a pair of dice. Just as Theo was about to approach the tapster, he heard Arthur’s voice turn from jovial to rage. “Yeeeww fockin’ cheat’r! ‘Ere’s no way yewcud’ve nicked thrice inarow!” he slurred with a red face. Theo jumped in before things could escalate further: “Good sirs, this is my brother. I apologize for any trouble he may have caused. You see, we’re travelers new to this town!” One of the strangers, a strong man with long, messy hair, facial scars, and a jarringly fake tooth, pulled Theo in close by his collar and said with a wolfish grin: “Your brother owes me money,” then pushed him away.

“Please excuse us for a moment,” Theo grunted as he forcibly dragged his brother out of the tavern. He noticed a few other men guarding their horses. “What the hell did you do?!” Theo asked Arthur in a sharp whisper. “Aye…thought I could get us rich,” he replied slowly. “Odds were in my favor ‘n everyfin’! Itwas-n’t a bad idea…” After chatting with Arthur for the next half-hour as he sobered up, the brothers returned to the tavern to pay up. “You owe how much?!” Theo exclaimed. Arthur hung his head as the burly man said it again: “320 pence.” The brothers were diligent in bringing a lot of money for their journey ahead, but neither of them carried that much individually, forcing them to pool their coins together. “Pleasure gamblin’ with ya, boys.”

Leading their horses by the reigns, Arthur and Theo walked around town to find the inn in silence. Arthur knew he had messed up, and Theo was rightfully upset. The next morning, they got into an argument. Theo exclaimed: “Let’s cut our losses and go home! We can save up again to try this next year or something, but you’ve shattered our chances at survival on day one!” “Next year?! You hardly even wanted to explore this year! How much more time of your life will you throw away? How many more excuses will you make for staying put? Brother, we are fine! We still have some money.” Theo had always been proud of his ability to keep in brother in check, but it seemed like there was no convincing him this time. Arthur was determined to forge ahead despite only having enough money for the bare essentials that wouldn’t even last a week. During the argument, Arthur spat: “If you want to go back to mum and dad, then go! I’m not going to stop you!” “And leave you to die in some unknown cave?” Theo mumbled back, knowing that he couldn’t leave his brother in good conscience.

The brothers set off to the next closest town of Alryne after a light breakfast, expecting to arrive before sunset. The cheerful atmosphere of adventuring that Theo felt yesterday had been replaced with anxiety. Arthur put on a good face, trying to convince his brother that they would find some kind of riches along the way, or even women, but even his optimism was slightly faltering. Wanting to manifest his beliefs, Arthur insisted on a detour since he knew they had time to spare before arriving at Alryne. He dragged his increasingly pessimistic brother along for hours before finding an old, crumbling tower in the middle of a forest.

“Ah-ha!” Arthur exclaimed, “I knew there were treasures to be had! Look, brother! Think of all the ancient riches that could be hiding away in this building! This is what I’ve been talking about! There’s so much to find and explore!” Theo managed to crack a smile, praying that his brother was correct. The pair walked through the doorway that had already been broken into, finding nothing but an empty room with a staircase spiraling upwards. “The riches must be up there,” Arthur said with a wide grin. Upon arriving at the upper levels, Theo’s hopes were dashed. Every room was filled with desks, shelves, and other hidden compartments – all picked clean like a meatless skeleton.

Theo tried to contain his frustration as they walked back down the stairs, but his brother’s delusions were now made clear, and he had to let it out. “There’s nothing here! Nothing!” Theo yelled, stomping his foot to the floor. “Do you see now, brother! Your ideas of the grand adventurer are fantasy! Any riches that may have been waiting for us are already long gone!” Theo stomped the floor again, causing it noticeably buckle. Arthur admittedly felt embarrassed, but the shift in the floor reignited his hope.

“Wait, brother, do that again,” Arthur said, stomping the wooden floor beneath him to no avail. “I’ll damn well stomp as many times as I need to to get this through your head!” Theo replied with more stomps, making a seam between two parts of the floor clear to Arthur. “That could be… Brother, help me lift this!” Arthur shooed Theo away from his spot and looked for a good way to grip the slightly displaced flooring. The piece was larger than he would’ve thought, as it extended all the way to the wall a few meters away. “This is bloody heavy!” Arthur huffed through clenched teeth, unable to get a good grip until Theo pitched in. With a lot of effort, the brothers managed to overturn the large floorboard with a thud that shook the room, revealing another staircase into the underground.

“This is it! This must be where the treasures are!” Arthur exclaimed, skipping down the stairs. Theo followed with a furrowed brow, then eased up at the sight of the room downstairs. There were tables and shelves lined with old vials and equipment he’d never seen before. He plugged his nose at the stench of dried-up plants, dead rats, and other ingredients that surrounded a lot of the equipment, but was nevertheless excited for Arthur to have discovered this room.

Arthur came up to Theo with a bunch of glass and metal instruments in his arms. “How much do you think these will go for?” he asked giddily, then continued: “This place hasn’t been touched in years, or maybe even longer… And we’re the first to discover its history!!” “It’ll be hard to make back 320 pence with some rusty metal,” Theo smirked, then continued to look around. He noticed a large green stone on a pedestal at the back of the room, protected by a glass covering. As he drew closer, he could see a slight glow. “Hmm, now a rare mineral may actually fetch a good price,” Theo mumbled to himself while his brother gathered more things like a kid in a candy store. He hauled the heavy stone to the center of the room, then called Arthur for help.

“I think that if we can break into this stone,” Theo began, “we can figure out what kind of minerals are inside.” “So we just gotta break it, yeah?” Arthur replied. “Yes, well, carefully. I think. I’m no expert, but doesn’t this look like it’d be worth more than most other things in here? If we took it to an appraiser, they may charge extra to get to the minerals in the first place…I think. And it’s already cracked quite a bit, see here and there?” Theo pointed at the lines.

Arthur dropped his haul to examine the rock himself. “Minerals…like diamonds? Oh yes brother, this has to be it! We’ve struck gold on day two!” After a little more discussion, the brothers held the rock together and dropped it onto the floor with a loud thump. They repeated the process multiple times, increasingly chipping away at the rock’s exterior. “C’mon, show us the insides!” Arthur cheered, eventually taking the rock himself to slam on the floor. After a few slams, the rock burst like a bomb, releasing green haze and knocking the brothers onto the floor where they fell unconscious for an hour.

As Theo awakened, he slowly recalled what they were doing prior. “The…rock…the rock! Argh! What happened to that blasted thing? Did it really…explode?” he said to himself, scrambling back to the location of its impact. He found pieces of the rock, but it had lost its subtle glow, and there were no traces of valuable minerals inside. Theo sighed as Arthur awoke. “Theodoric, are you okay?” was the first thing Arthur asked, thinking of his brother before himself despite his pounding head. “I am. I think the rock may have burst, but it should be okay. The minerals must be deeper in. At this point, it’s probably wiser to take to an appraiser so that we don’t risk further damages.” “Atta boy!” Arthur exclaimed, slapping his brother’s shoulder.

The brothers were relieved to still see that the sun hadn’t set yet. As they emerged from the tower with loads of supplies, their horses looked at them with pause. “What’s that look about, Thor? It’s me!” Arthur said, securing his load to the side of his horse. “They probably don’t want to carry this much on top of your fat arse,” Theo laughed as he secured a lighter bag, then continued: “We should be reaching Alryne in a few hours. We’ll be traveling slower than expected and lost a lot of time, so it’ll likely be after sunset, but we should be fine. Tomorrow’s priority is finding an appraiser.”

Arthur and Theo set off and talked cheerfully for a good while, but Arthur grew quieter as time passed which was unlike him. Eventually, he let Theo take the lead and voluntarily trailed behind, not wanting to speak or be seen. I’m beginning to feel ill, he thought, but we’re almost to Alryne, and Theodoric is in good spirits. I probably just need a hot bath… Due to his lack of energy, Arthur was leaned in close to his horse’s mane and did not notice how the hair on his sweaty skin was beginning to fall out, including the short beard he wore with pride.

Around the same time, Theo also began to feel unwell, but wanted to press on strong as the rider in front, knowing that their daylight was limited. Similar to his brother, his skin became lined with sweat, and his body hair began falling out. He lightly flexed his fingers, toes, and jaw with repeated movements, feeling as if his bones were growing stiffer by the minute. “G-Gaahh,” he would mutter to himself as bones would shift and grind against one another, primarily around his joints, shoulder, and pelvis. He frequently stretched his arms and legs while still riding to alleviate the odd sensations, hoping that his brother wasn’t judging him from behind.

By the end of the hour, both brothers were fidgeting uncomfortably within their clothes. Both of their feet had shrunk, making it difficult to keep their boots on, and their shirts and pants were noticeably baggier. Gritting his teeth, Theo sat as tall as he could while periodically looking back to ensure that his brother was still following – he was too far behind to see clearly, but the silhouette of his horse was visible enough. Frustrated by his longer sleeves, he rolled them up and noticed that his forearms had become slimmer along with his fingers and hands. The sun sets soon, we have to make it… That is the priority right now, he thought, shaking his head.

Arthur wasn’t taking his illness as well as Theo. He was barely holding himself upright, enduring the plight of his changing skeleton as best he could. “Still a few more hours,” he mumbled under his breath just as he felt something different from within his body. His body leaned even more forward as he felt the small of back arch inward. “Hn-hnngghh-!” His grunts came through clenched teeth as his legs tightly held the sides of his horse. What started as soft fat filling out his shrunken thighs soon turned into an abundance of volume. Alongside a broadening pelvis, his lower body grew and morphed with large feminine proportions that threatened to tear his once-loose pants.

Arthur’s groaning grew louder, but Theo couldn’t hear him over their horses’ clops or over his own muttering. He tried to giddy his horse to go faster once he realized that his fingernails were elongating and darkening, but his horse remained at a slow pace, feeling Theo grow heavier before Theo himself noticed. As his upper arms became fuller with soft feminine fat, a faint crack emitted from within his chest. His breathing was heavy, and every step his horse took was met with a little bounce in his chest that grew more uncomfortable every minute. Veins pressed against his skin, and his nipples hardened, as his pecs swelled over the course of the next hour, eventually splitting into two distinct mounds.

Theodoric was periodically shocked into silence as he felt his chest grow and could simply not focus on anything else once the orbs of flesh became large enough to sag and flail around from riding on horseback. His skinny body continued to thicken beneath his chest with plump thighs that filled out his pants – although not nearly as much as Arthur’s – and a softer, less defined stomach that was accented with a pinched waist.

Unable to bear the afflictions any longer, Arthur stopped on the side of the road as the sun had almost set while Theodoric continued forward, oblivious to what was happening behind him. Arthur angrily threw some of his clothes off, almost ripping them beyond wearability in the process, to alleviate some of his cold sweat. “What is this…?” he spat when he felt longer and sharper nails poke into his body in the process. “My legs!” Arthur yelled after wriggling out of his pants, laying his eyes on two hairless thighs that were thicker than thick. He fell onto his weak knees, feeling his arms and face begin to twitch from some force within. He clutched the side of his face with one hand, feeling his jaw reshaping within his palm, while the other cupped his slimy shrinking genitals.

“No…! No!” Arthur could feel his manhood slipping away from his hand, diverting his attention from his changing skull. His stern nose flattened above a mouth that was growing sharper and more jagged teeth, and his bushy dirty blond eyebrows slimmed and darkened while his short hair began growing. Arthur noticed his voice changing as he mumbled to himself with fear and panic, but paid it no mind as he spread his legs further, trying to stop his dick and balls from retracting further. He also failed to notice his large biceps diminish after a crack in his shoulder blades shook his upper body, feminizing his whole upper frame with increasingly smoother skin.

After the sun had gone down, Theodoric also needed to stop at the side of the road. Looking back for the first time in a while, he wondered where Arthur was. Instead of worrying about him, he was relieved that his brother wouldn’t see him in this state for the moment. Theo’s calm and collected demeanor crumbled after painfully throwing his shirt and coat off. The ridiculously large breasts that hung from his body made him scream in terror and fall back onto his ass. A few pops emitted from within his pants as his slender legs continued to shrink and develop into limbs that would contribute to a shapely figure.

Through heavy breaths, Theo examined his bare arms and hands after getting a grip, noticing that they looked nothing like his own. They were weak, dainty, and even within the darkness, Theo could tell that their color was off. He fell all the way onto his back as sensations similar to Arthur’s crept into his face and neck. Is this where I die…? he thought as his rigid and baggy eyes were forcibly closed. He could feel every little shift of bone and muscle in his face as it reshaped beyond recognizability, but was numb to his hair darkening and growing down to shoulder length. The tips of his ears also grew to a long point, almost poking out like horns. He clutched his pounding head with one strong hand and yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice completely changing in the process.

Neither brother moved for a long awhile as the pains of their transformations faded away. They caught their breaths and attempted to assess what had happened in their own ways. They could barely see themselves in the pitch-black night, but felt their new flesh, proportions, and feminine assets with horror and uncertainty. Only the raw need for warmth and shelter was able to move them once a few too many breezes swept by. Unfortunately, both of their horses – who had excellent night vision – bolted at the sight and smell of them in fear, leaving them stranded in the woods near the path to Alryne.

“Theo!” “Arthur!” The brothers called out to each other as they hobbled in the directions they thought they were in. Both of them were equally disgusted at the sound of their distinctly husky and womanly voices. To their relief, they managed to find each other by the sounds of their names after some time, although they were hesitant to approach.

“Arthur, are you over there?” Theo called. He knew Arthur wouldn’t be able to see him, but he felt utterly helpless and embarrassed in his foreign body draped by clothes that were now far ill-fitting. “Theo, it’s me!” Arthur called back, “I’m walking in your direction…!” Arthur had similar reluctancies, but was more relieved to know his brother was alive. Arthur’s hair had grown long enough to tickle the small of his back as he awkwardly moved with his large swinging hips.

“I’m right in front of you, Arthur.” “I’m here, I’m here…is that really you, Theo?” Unable to see clearly, the pair slowly approached for an embrace, but the feeling of Theo’s massive bust pushing against Arthur’s modest breasts made them flinch and walk back. “I don’t…” Theo began. The pair muttered aimless thoughts to each other for a while, wondering what had happened to them and if they were going to be okay. As the night progressed and as they continued their small talk, the needs for sleep and warmth quickly approached. The brothers ended up huddling together on the ground within the forest, feeling each other’s smooth skin and shapely figures with tired mumbles and silent chuckles.

Once the sun rose, the sound of Arthur’s screaming at Theo woke him up, who then screamed equally loud at the sight of his brother. Both of them stood around 1.5 meters tall and were completely unrecognizable through their female faces, both of which were slightly tinted pale green with long ears, pointed teeth, and vaguely yellow eyes. From last night’s experience, they knew that their bodies carried feminine proportions, but seeing them in the flesh felt surreal, especially when Arthur’s ass and Theo’s tits were far larger than the other’s. Contrary to their lighter hair, they both now wore long and slightly wavy black hair at different lengths.

“Brother…” “Are we…” “We’re women?” “We’re…we look like goblins,” the pair spun their thoughts around in awe, unsure of what to say or do about any of this. After a long pause, Theo said: “Well, we could walk to Alryne from here before sunset, but-” “We have to find a way to fix this!” Arthur interrupted, “I cannot live as-as a creature! Look at us!” “Brother, c-calm down,” Theo said, “perhaps we can find someone in Alryne who knows about…but would we even be able to approach the town? What if we’re cast away as monsters? I’ve heard tales of woodland creatures before, but I didn’t think they’d exist-“ “What choices do we have, brother?!” Arthur yelled. “We have to get to Alryne and fix this, now!”

As the pair walked down the muddy path, struggling to keep their shoes on every few steps, Theo was quickly getting used to the weight of his new stride, while Arthur continued to complain about his appearance, his weight, and the loss of his manhood. “Like, it’s really just gone!” he would constantly state, feeling himself again as if it would come back at any moment. “I know, brother, I know.” Theo didn’t know how to calm him down or how to reassure him that everything would be okay this time, which began to upset him.

A guardsman approached the brothers when they were close to Alryne after several long hours of walking. Although he wanted to fend them off, the fact that they were wearing clothing and could speak coherently swayed the guard to let them in. Theo asked if any other creatures had come through Alryne and told the guard about their condition, hoping to find anyone who could offer a cure. To the brothers’ surprise, the guard stated that goblins did pass through town on rare occasions to drink and peddle wares, but were also under close supervision – the brothers were warned that any signs of aggression would result in death.

“So goblins are real,” Theo said to himself with a chuckle, “And they speak and drink like us. Isn’t that wild? I suppose you were right, brother. There really is a lot to discover in this world.” While Theo was becoming more and more fascinated, Arthur was scouring the town for the pub – not for a coveted drink, but for information from tapster. When Theo suggested that they purchase fitting clothing, Arthur stated that it would be a waste of money since they would surely be cured soon. The tapster led the brothers to both a practical doctor and a shaman. The doctor offered no help; only a perverted fascination in their bodies. As they recounted their tale to the shaman, the shaman theorized that the explosive green stone may have cursed them, which set Arthur’s next goal – finding their horses who carried all of their loot from the day prior.

Theo naturally agreed to help his brother, but only after the pair purchased small feminine cottes and shoes to wear, expending most of their little remaining money. Holding his breasts in both hands through the clothes, Theo said: “This certainly feels much better, doesn’t it, brother?” Arthur sighed and replied: “Yeah. I guess so. Let’s get moving, I don’t want to spend another night in this…this skin.” Despite their best efforts, the horses weren’t able to be found, and the sunset forced them to return to Alryne for food and shelter. Pinching pennies, they rented a single bed room.

The brothers found it difficult to sleep that night, especially with their large assets constantly pressing against the other while they tossed and turned. They tried sleeping on the floor, but didn’t have enough blankets or pillows to fend off the cold from the floorboards, making the bed their only option. Due to his smaller bust and longer hair, Arthur ended up being the bigger spoon to his brother despite being the same height. Throughout the night, his little hands intentionally and unintentionally held and brushed against Theo’s large breasts, giving him some sense of comfort and normalcy. Theo didn’t respond or swat Arthur’s hand away; rather, he reluctantly enjoyed it. His breathing became intermittently heavy, and unfamiliar sensations fermented between his legs.

The next day, Arthur continued to search for the horses while Theo remained in town desperately searching for work. He ended up selling a few strands of his hair to curious researchers and posed nude for hours for an artist who was eager to capture his first willing non-human subject. That evening, Arthur returned to town in an expectedly sour mood from being empty-handed, and even the news of Theo’s newly earned money did little to cheer him up. The pair ate a hearty dinner with ale at the tavern that night.

As the pair got into bed, Theo insisted on being the big spoon despite how uncomfortable his breasts were pressing into Arthur’s back. After a moment of silence, Theo spoke softly: “You know, maybe these forms aren’t as awful as you’re making them out to be.” Theo’s left hand glided down Arthur’s curves. “Of course they are,” Arthur pouted, “I am not a woman, I am not a-a creature… I’m supposed to be a m-maa-aan-” Arthur began to stutter as Theo’s hand slipped between his large thighs. “You needn’t be so rigid all the time, brother,” Theo practically whispered. “Maybe we’ll be cured one day, but if we are to remain like this for the rest of our lives, well…” “We can’t!” Arthur shouted, “How are we supposed to return to our family like this?! It’s unthinkable!” After another pause, Theo brought his hand up to Arthur’s breasts. “That’s something we can figure out in the future. But we must live in the present right now.”

Arthur and Theo continued lodging in Alryne for the week, taking on odd jobs around the large town while continuing to search for their lost horses and loot, losing hope that they’d find either. As they became more involved in town, they faced racism and sexism to extents they couldn’t have foreseen. Theo was adept at brushing it off most of the time, but passing comments continued to make Arthur angrier and more insecure about his body, leading him to be even more reliant on Theo to cheer him up. Although they never looked directly at each other as they slept together, they continued to lightly poke and fondle each other’s bodies. They knew it was wrong, but their soft skin and ample feminine assets brought a form of comfort that couldn’t be describe in words, especially when pressed up close in a single bed.

One night, as Theo was playing with Arthur’s long hair in bed, he said: “Why haven’t you cut your hair?” He wanted to address him as ‘brother’ or ‘Arthur’ as he usually did, but stopped himself that night; it just didn’t feel right anymore. Then, he continued: “This is awfully long for someone who wants to cling to their masculinity.” A moment of silence passed. Theo wanted it to come off as playful teasing, but was worried that he may have gone too far. The truth was that the thought simply never occurred to Arthur over everything else they’d been dealing with, but he thought of another reason that felt appropriate to say through a cracked voice: “It’s for you.” “For me?” Theo replied, dumbfounded. Arthur continued after clearing his throat: “Yes, well…I was under the impression that you enjoyed it, and you’ve done so much for me…throughout my whole life, but especially throughout the past couple weeks. Sometimes I feel like a burden. I always wanted to be the one to be relied on, and yet it seems like I’ve been relying on you for longer than I can remember. You’re always so…calm, so leveled. Sometimes I try to imitate it, but I just can’t. And now, even when your body is lost to the Devil, you carry on. You keep us safe and fed. And all I can do is try and catch up.”

Theo sniffed, feeling a tear well in his eye. He didn’t know how to reply, as such a heartfelt sentiment from Arthur was incredibly rare. With a trembling voice, Theo whispered as he caressed Arthur: “Oh Ansee…” After a pause, Arthur chuckled. “Ansee? What’s that?” Theo couldn’t help but giggle too. “Ansee is, well, it’s an elvish name. I’ve been trying to study the language of…goblins. Although the dialect between elves, goblins, and orcs are all very similar, I’m not too good at discerning specifics just yet.” “Oh so now you believe in orcs?” Arthur laughed. Theo replied with a smirk: “Could mistake you for one in the dark, you little scamp,” then gave Arthur’s ass a hard smack.

It took a few days for Ansee to get used to her new name. In turn, she decided to rename Theodoric to Thraba over a fresh meal and ale at the tavern. “To living in the present,” Ansee smiled, raising a glass with her sister. By now, both women had gotten used to presenting as the exotic females that they were around town and were eagerly making connections with townsfolk throughout their odd jobs, even though Ansee could still get moody about herself from time to time. Thraba had been looking into jewelry, only holding herself back due to the uncertainty of tomorrow’s funds, and Ansee had been taking even better care of her long lustrous hair, always wearing it down with pride.

On that same night, when Thraba had left to use the outhouse toilet, a group of men approached Ansee and demanded sexual favors, insisting that this was the luckiest day of her life while also ragging on her appearance. Ansee breathed and remained calm at first, but then several men got physical. Ansee called for help, but her sister was out of earshot. With her ass and breasts being groped and her limbs being constrained, she howled more fiercely than she knew she was capable of. The moment of the shock that the men experienced gave Ansee the chance to free one arm long enough to slash at the face of a man with her sharp nails.

Pandemonium broke out in the tavern. “Guards! Call the guards!” “This creature attacked us!” “It’s gone mad!” It took a lot of effort for Ansee to hold herself back from pursuing the other men. Once Thraba heard people screaming and running outside, she bolted back into the tavern and saw her sister’s bloody hand. There was no time for words, Thraba simply held the door open for Ansee to approach, then they ran as far away from the building as they could.

Once they found a quiet place, Ansee’s guilt came pouring out. “I-I didn’t mean to, I didn’t…want to, they just came out of nowhere and-” “It’s okay,” Thraba interrupted, “I know you wouldn’t do such a thing if you didn’t have to.” Thraba held her sister’s shoulder with one hand, and slowly brought her other to Ansee’s face as they gazes met. Just as their eyelids were fluttering, they heard a guard shout: “Monster spotted on Crescent Road! Seize them!” The sisters started running again, then a guard blindsided Ansee with a buckler from a hidden alley, knocking her to the ground.

Thraba snarled at the guard. For once, she didn’t think, she simply acted by tackling the guard to the ground before disfiguring his face with her nails. “Let’s go!” Ansee called, snapping Thraba out of her rage. The guards stopped chasing them once they had escaped the town’s borders. The sisters ran for miles before running out of breath and collapsing onto the ground. After a few long minutes, Ansee crawled onto her sister as she had nearly regained her composure by looking up at the stars.

Looking into each other’s eyes again, the sisters made a few quiet hums before Ansee closed her eyes and gave Thraba a passionate lip-locking kiss. They held each other tight and felt each other up and down. Ansee nibbled on her sister’s long ears while Thraba bounced Ansee’s hefty ass, soon moving in to subdue her with unbridled feminine joy, her fingers in between her legs. Throughout the starry night, they locked legs and rubbed cunts, licked and squeezed voluptuous breasts, and stuck their tongues wherever a wet opening would accept.

After a long night filled with more climaxes than either of them could remember, Ansee and Thraba awoke in the early afternoon, slowly recalling everything that had happened. They looked at each other and giggled like little girls, almost wanting to start again until they felt their stomachs rumble. Thraba pulled a map out of her cotte’s pouch, barely legible through all of its creases and folds. “The next town, Wimborne, isn’t too far off. We should be able to make it by foot before the day ends,” she said.

The sisters chatted about anything and everything as they walked under the beaming sun. Eventually, Ansee brought up what they had done last night, causing both of them to stop walking. Thraba approached her and held her shoulder. “This is who we are now, Ansee. Living in the present, remember? That doesn’t just mean living with these bodies, it means living with everything that makes us, us. And, well… I don’t care if it’s wrong. I liked it. And if you like it, we can keep doing it.” Ansee blushed as her sister pulled her in closer, squeaking out an embarrassed “Thank you.” After a pause, Thraba closed her eyes and went in for a quiet kiss, then said “We might not actually make it to Windborne by tonight…but I trust that you’ll keep me warm?” Ansee snorted as she giggled, brushing her hair back. “Of course, uhm, b-baby… Of course.”

-------------

A Patreon reward for Aezneth, thanks so much!! :D This medieval story features two brothers who set off on an adventure, running into some unexpected event that changes their lives forever. It also brings them closer together in ways they couldn't have foreseen...

This story was patron-exclusive for 28 days, and another new patron-exclusive caption has gone live - a classic M2F + Race Change caption.

If you enjoyed this story, check out another medieval-fantasy tale I spun over the course of a year, my longest story to date!

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[stantler]

Hey I need all the wenches hags and peasants to tap in I’m throwing a gathering and it’s going to be a gapeseed so if you a calf-lolly just stay at home cause there’s gonna be beard splitters and merchants everywhere so make sure that the side hoops match the corset ladies and guess what we got Brother of the String on the harp and Brother of the Blade at the front door so don’t even be tryna come over here on no tyranny shit cause we all just tryna have a chirping merry you feel me? If you a heathen philosopher stay at the dock put y’all roast meat clothes on or go milk the cows and by the way the streets a little jumblegut right now we are missing a few cobblestone on this side of town so make sure your carriages got fresh bolts I’m not responsible for your hooptie folding in front of the hoes bruh and if you bringing a horse park it in the back nobody’s trying to smell that shit like they just cleaned the streets two sunsets ago and no pickthank allowed let’s play fair and if it starts getting affray take it to the field and fence it out and make sure you got them coins on you cause we got the apothecary on site so if you need that let me know we also got that tapster all night let’s have a ball ima send a smoke signal after the final church bell and that’s when you know it’s time to commence

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Because of all the moving parts surrounding our move back to the house, we chose not to celebrate Mother's Day and Father's Day on the actual day in favor of preserving some semblance of mental and physical health. We even had to skip passed Valentine's Day in February for related reasons on top of which was the aftermath of the death of Kimmer's uncle at the top of the year as well as her efforts to take care of her aunt both from a distance and in person during monthly trips to California.

So. Mother's Day. Father's Day. Valentine's Day.

Now, one of the permissions we afford each other in our family is to move events out of the way if they prove too overwhelming in context. And this year definitely put a little more full court press on us.

That doesn't mean, however, that we don't do make-ups. It only means that on occasion we don't celebrate a holiday or holidays when everyone else does. This year, of course, is unique in the number of holidays we temporarily set aside but, as of today, we're gaining back some ground. In this case: Father's Day. I woke up to Father's Day this morning.

Now, I knew it was coming. I just didn't know what it was gonna look like.

Chocolate, it turns out.

Chocolate is what it ended up looking like. Chocolate is how it started. Basically, hot chocolate and chocolate truffles for breakfast. Which I'm completely okay with.

We actually had breakfast right out front where Kimmer most recently created this space to lounge, relax, hang out, flatline, bask in the sunshine, enjoy the moment.

This is definitely gonna be a thing in this new time back at our old house.

The major plot twist of the day was a stop into the Lynnwood Ezell's to score some of their massively tasty chicken accompanied by delicious rolls. A rare treat, indeed. We stopped in on our way down to Cap Hill where we joined Linzy at her place for our finger lickin' lunch plus episode eight of Daisy Jones and The Six before heading down to South Lake Union and Tapster where the self-imposed rule was to move from seat to seat with every new round.

By the way my favorite round was the one where I mixed a Blackberry Kombucha with a Belgian Red, a mixture that smoothed out some of the initial bite of the Kombucha (believe it or not) while increasing the berry-ness.

Huzzah!

Afterward, we piled into the photo booth Tapster keeps onsite for what I believe will be our official end of the year family portrait, a series of three photographs of us being, well, us. 😁😁😁

After that, we indulged a walk to the MOHAI end of Lake Union to imagine the prospect of an ice cream cruise but settling for a photo op of the historic wooden boats anchored there as well as a bit of simple hanging out at the end of the pier.

In the end, it wound up being a lovely, quite normal, summer's day. I don't know why I put such a premium on "normal"... well, I guess I do. I guess we all do.

We know what it's like to be deprived of it. We know what it's like to not have it. We know what it's like to wonder if we'll ever have it again.

That's just the facts in the ground.

So it is, and will always be, this experience we'll cherish now more than ever.

Normal.

And yeah. It was a fantastic Father's Day.

☺️❤️❤️❤️

[izelandzero]

RAIN BLAST (Complete Refs!)

Here's some title changes both Toni and Ana includes, Bru's title is now "The Tapster" instead of "the Monk"

Check out RAIN TOWER AU! And the ItalianScug Blog Update!

[delightingintragedy]

Moon Correspondences

From Christian Astrology by William Lilly

(It is mostly word for word. I tried to format it to fit into a nice correspondence list, but the information itself is untouched.)

Zodiac: Rules Cancer. Exalted in Taurus, Detriment in Capricorn, Fall in Scorpio.

Nature: She is a Feminine, Nocturnal Planet, Cold, Moist and Phlegmatic.

Profession: Queens, Countesses, Ladies, all manner of Women; as also the common People, Travellers, Pilgrims, Sailors, Fishermen, Fishmongers, Brewers, Tapsters, Vintners, Letter-carriers, Coachmen, Huntsmen, Messengers, Mariners, Millers, Alewives, Malsters, Drunkards, Oysterwives, Fisherwomen, Charwomen, Tripewomen, and generally such Women as carry Commodities in the Streets; as also, Midwives, Nurses, Hackneymen, Watermen, Waterbearers.

Sicknesses: Apoplexies, Palsy, the Colic, the Bellyache, Diseases of the left Side, Stones, the Bladder and members of Generation, the Menstrues and Liver in Women, Dropsies, Fluxes of the Belly, all cold rheumatic Diseases, cold Stomach, the Gout in the Wrists and Feet, Sciatica, Colic, Worms in Children and men, Rheums or Hurts in the Eyes. In the Left of Men, and Right of Women: Surfeits, rotten Coughs, Convulsion fits, the Falling sickness, Kings-evil, Apostems, small Pox and Measles.

Colour: the White, or pale Yellowish white, pale Green, or a little of the Silver colour.

Savours: the Fresh, or without any savour, such as in Herbs before they be ripe, or such as do moisten the Brain.

Herbs & Plants: Those Herbs which are subject to the Moon have soft and thick juicy leaves, of the waterish or a little sweetish taste, they love to grow in watery places, and grow quickly into a juicy magnitude; and are: The Colwort, Cabbage, Melon, Gourd, Pompion, Onion, Mandrake, Poppy, Lettuce, Rape, the Linden tree, Mushrooms, Endive, all Trees or Herbs who have round, shady, great spreading Leaves, and are little Fruitful.

Beasts & Birds: All such Beasts, or the like, as live in the water; as Frogs, the Otter, Snails, the Weasel, the Cunny, all Sea Fowl, Cuckoo, Geese and Duck, the Night Owl.

Fishes: The Oyster and Cockle, all Shellfish, the Crab and Lobster, Tortoise, Eels.

Places: Fields, Fountains, Baths, Havens of the Sea, Highways and Desert places, Port Towns, Rivers, Fishponds, standing Pools, Boggy places, Common shores, little Brooks, Springs, Harbours for Ships or Docks.

Minerals: Silver.

Stones: The Selenite, all soft Stones, Crystals.

Weather: With Saturn cold Air; with Jupiter Serene; with Mars Winds red Clouds; with the Sun according to the Season; with Venus and Mercury Showers and Winds. She delights towards the North, and usually when she is the strongest Planet in the Scheme.

Angel: Gabriel

Planetary Alliance: Her enemy is Saturn, and also Mars.

Week Day: Monday

Correspondence posts for the other planets: [Sun] [Mercury] [Venus] [Mars] [Jupiter] [Saturn]

[biancadavri]

tapster’s patrons enjoying their drinks while brosca and leske skewer an innocent man two tables over

[m0use-trapped]

sometimes you things take weeks Tapster! plus! you said you'd eat soon yesterday and you didn't. what kind of knot alarm would I be if let you not take care of yourself? Hmmm I'm less of an alarm more spawn in shit. Knot caretaker? caretaker rope. there we go. I'm your caretaker rope

-🪢

I suppose you are correct. I will eat as soon as I have completed this particular task. it should only take half an hour more, at most. is that agreeable?

[vigilskeep]

hiya!! I never learned much about oghren besides what I needed to because, from what I remember, he pissed me off so bad with misogynistic comments that in both my playthroughs I kicked him out of the party as soon as the game would let me😂what would you say is the appeal of his character? it seems there’s more to him if I could’ve got past that, based on the posts of yours I’ve seen

i’m not going to make an argument for pushing through if you can’t deal with how he talks because like, it sucks and as i say, they did not do anything with it or make him get better on that. that being said, i think there is something interesting to his character and what can be done with it.

maybe i’m just desperate for dwarven lore lmao. there are three, total, dwarven companions in the series, counting one from a dlc, and i will take whatever lore i can get from my beloved orzammar

oghren operates in a really fascinating space in orzammar’s caste system. he’s born warrior caste, and once, he was everything orzammar values and a great prospect for a brilliant girl from the smith caste. then when she’s less than twenty and he’s presumably around the same, she becomes a paragon, a living legend, the voice of the ancestors. they soar up to being a noble house in a role neither of them are prepared for. oghren goes from being a very desirable match socially to an uncultured hanger-on who doesn’t even have branka’s attention as she becomes obsessed with her work (and quietly seeks a lover elsewhere in her new house). when branka goes into the deep roads two years before the events of the game, she takes the whole house—except him. and she doesn’t come back. oghren’s the single leftover of a house with no head. he’s also a berserker with ptsd, and when he loses control of himself in the proving arena and kills a young man, he’s no longer allowed to fight within the city bounds. if he left it, he’d be casteless; but inside it, he’s not far from that, unable to be the warrior that orzammar’s culture has always told him it is his only role and purpose to be.

there’s a lot of orzammar caste and gender politics in all of that. the guard who tells you about oghren says that he might have been something to be afraid of before the assembly “practically gelded him” by banning him from fighting. losing your ability to perform your caste role is emasculating and oghren’s over-exaggerated masculinity in his crude jokes is a response to that perceived shame. even before the ban, orzammar has the biggest gender inequality of anywhere we’ve spent time in thedas, and there’s a lot of implied social loss in becoming the lesser partner to his wife. both because she’s a woman and was once a lesser caste than him. in his fade nightmare, he’s drunk in tapsters, as strangers berate him for being a shame to branka’s house, dragging it down. he’s openly mocked in the same way in orzammar for all of this. for him in this dream, and in his life prior to meeting the warden, it’s easier to drink than to listen

there’s a lot to get into about how orzammar treats its warriors. they’re sent against the horrors of the deep roads, taught to harness this berserker rage, to be the only thing that stands between their home and the darkspawn, and... then what? is there a system in place for taking care of those veterans? i doubt they hold the same value once they lose the ability to perform their caste role. oghren talks a little about this, but he’s not even able to conceptualise that he should have been helped, it’s more like, how could they teach me how to fight out there like that and expect me to be able to hold back in that proving fight? a warrior’s going to do what a warrior’s going to do! but i don’t think it’s a surprise that someone like oghren turns to alcohol and i sincerely doubt he’s alone in that. compare it to someone like warden brosca’s mother turning to alcohol to deaden herself to life in dust town, and you can see that the dwarven love of drink so often played for laughs is the weight of the caste system in action