#the game sometimes misses out on remembering your character is undead

[asexualdreammorpheus]

the first sex scene with fane is so much funnier as an undead instead of him feeling weird about that thing the godwoken does with their tongue he feels weird about what the godwoken did with their tibia

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 2]

Tombcraft

TW: Undead(?), Slight Body Horror Genre: Romance Pairing: Park Jisung x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 1.0K Prompt: "Can I put my tomb next to yours?"

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: Spooky season is officially here! And since I skipped 20 days of NCT for Christmas last year, what the hell, why not do spooky season instead? Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

It was the hottest game on the market right now, Tombcraft. You play as a living person designing their tomb for once they kick the bucket and head to the afterlife and, for organization nuts like you, it was simply perfect.

Or maybe it just gave a breath of life to those who no longer had it.

"Gosh, I missed having bright eyes like that," you watched your character move about their freshly decorated tomb and, to the corner of your screen, you saw the join request from your boyfriend, Jisung. You rolled back on your chair. "Jisung? I'm literally right behind you, you can just ask," you laughed.

Both you and Jisung actually died quite a while ago, freak accident, go figure, turns out when you get hit by a truck you don't get isekai-ed into a new world, nah, you just die. Luckily, you both were buried together so you ended up popping into the after-life at the same time and now you were existing just as you had lived. Living in a small crypt and in debt, turns out your life's debts are simply transferred to your death. And yours combined with Jisung's was just a trainwreck, if you knew you'd still be working a minimum wage 9-5 in the after-life maybe you would've tried harder to stay in the land of the living.

Jisung, though, seems to have no regrets. If anything he got bolder after being separated from the mortal world, and such was clear when he asked you to live- er- rest in the same crypt and now you've just been chilling playing this video game together. He looks around and smiles.

"Just in case! Sometimes you get so in the zone," he says, adjusting the screws in his head, "well?"

"Yeah, duh," you accepted his invite and Jisung's character appears on screen.

"Whoa, your tomb is so nice," Jisung comments. "Wish our house looked like this," he looks around your shared room and it was, as most crypts are, desolate.

"Would be nice to afford our own tomb," you sighed.

"Hey, wait, actually! Would it be cool if I put my tomb next to yours?" He asks.

"Stop! We could be neighbors!" You grinned. "Do it!" And, in seconds, his character successfully transfers over to your world and he takes the empty lot next to your tomb.

"Oh, darn, I didn't think this through," he says, staring at the literally empty lot, "the burden of creative freedom," he sighs.

"Hey, let's build a tomb together!" You offered, "it'll be fun! The one I'm in was one of the premade ones," you navigated your character to the empty lot, watching your two avatars interacting.

"Yes, that would be great," he says, "I was thinking of doing a classic mausoleum type?"

"Whoa, that's classic, classic," you muttered. "We have the funds, why not go gothic church?"

"Oh, I've always wanted a gargoyle!"

"Me too!" You beamed. "Wait, let me sell my tomb so we have enough."

"Maybe we should hold off on that for a second," Jisung waves his hand, "we still need a place to live for now," he says.

"Ooh, are you asking to move in with me?"

"(Y/N), we've been buried together for, like, ages."

"I know! But I still get giddy talking about it! Makes me feel alive, ya know?"

"I don't, actually."

"Oh, right!" You both laughed.

"I wonder what the others are up to," Jisung hums. "I miss our old friends," you heard the hint of sadness and you snapped your fingers.

"Wait, Jisung! This game has an option where we can play multiplayer with the living world!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Yeah! Let's try getting into contact with one of our old friends," you opened the search tab and Jisung wheeled over to you. "Let's try Mark, he'll lose his head when he sees it's us!" You put his name into the search bar and after a few minutes the user 'Tigrrr' popped up. You opened the chat with him.

YN: Mark, it's (Y/N) and Jisung!

MK: HUH??? No way, whoever you are I'm gonna block u

YN: NO DON'T IT'S REALLY US

MK: Sure!

"Quick! Type something only we would know!" You slid the keyboard to Jisung and he went to work.

YN: Hyung! It's really us! Remember that day before we died we went to the beach together and you got really drunk and told us that you thought that almond milk came from cows who only ate almonds?

MK: omg

MK: send a pic rn or i won't believe u

YN: dammit mark

"Get over here," you pulled Jisung closer to you and took a quick picture and sent it.

YN: (Image)

MK: OH MY GOD IT'S YOU TWO

MK: Ew, you're missing a chunk of flesh on your face, (Y/N)

MK: I GOTTA GET THE GUYS

YN: Okay!

"Wow... that went smoother than I thought," Jisung hums. "I hope they don't mind that we're like... dead."

"Wow! Rude!" You pointed at the comment he made.

"I mean... you are missing a chunk of your face."

"Because you bit it off!"

"I tried to kiss your cheek!"

"And now it's gone," you puffed your cheeks(?) and crossed your arms. Jisung sighs and wraps his bone arms around you.

"And I'm missing my arms."

"Yeah... if only we had enough to replace them," you nuzzled(?) into the bone. "Anyway, looks like we got more people joining our server!"

"Yes! Finally!" Jisung scrambled back to his chair, ready to commune with the living.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville 

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[janearts]

Can I ask how you adapt your previously made ocs into other games? And what makes you know they're the right fit for a game? Does the lore line up with the OCs original lore enough or is it just cause you like the idea of that particular OC in that situation? Ex. Being like Morowa being adapted to DAI

Generally speaking, I ask myself similar questions to what you've asked me here. (How can I transfer this character from one universe to another and try to keep as much of that character consistent between worlds? What do these new circumstances/worlds tell me about this character? What remains? And is what remains a core part of who they are? Is my character fundamentally changed? What informs that change?) I find the process of figuring out those answers a really fun exercise. I know when a character is the right fit for a game when all the puzzle pieces look like they're coming together or, at the very least, provide me some entertainment in the attempt.

Proper answers to each of your questions under the cut.

Can I ask how you adapt your previously made ocs into other games?

It's pretty simple: I open up a new game I’m playing, I go to create a character, and I pick a pre-existing character of mine that I... miss? Have been thinking about a lot? Think would be easy to create in the character creator? It’s entirely whimsical.

Sometimes that whim pays off, sometimes it doesn’t. I recreated Brii in Guild Wars 2 and that didn’t work for me. I recreated Morowa, an original original character, in Oblivion and that didn’t work for me. When recreating a character doesn’t work, I drop what I don’t like and keep what I do. Morowa’s TES identity as a Redguard went on to shape how I imagined Morowa’s character in DAI, Brii’s experience as a plant-person in GW2 did not.

For Baldur’s Gate, I knew I wanted to play a wizard because magic users are my weakness. I had also just finished a D&D campaign with my friends where I played a skeletal butler with a top hat named Barnaby. (Shout out to Marty if you’re still on Tumblr because I still love and remember your skeletal butler & wizard duo! ; V ;) I wanted more skeleton butlers and that made me think of Divinity Original Sin, my necromancer Roisia, and her undead friends and summons. I had given more thought to her backstory for DOS than I had to her Source Hunter companion Eustace (who I set as an AI while playing) and I knew that you can pursue the School of Necromancy in D&D, so Roisia seemed like a natural choice. I was right and I’m having a blast playing her character in-game.

And what makes you know they're the right fit for a game?

For me, it’s just a matter of everything clicking and I can tell when things are clicking because I’m enjoying myself. Part of the reason Brii didn’t work as a Sylvari in GW2 was because I wasn’t having fun playing that MMO. Part of the reason Morowa worked was because I had fun playing a hero who kept throwing off everyone else’s expectations (wasn’t a dutiful Andrastian, didn’t give a fuck about the Templars despite being from a Templar family, didn’t give a fuck about the nobility despite being one of them, befriended the oddest of people, that sort of thing).

Morowa’s recreation as my Inquisitor was also part of the reason I enjoyed thinking about Bree in DAI so much: Bree wasn’t the main character any more! I really got a kick out of thinking about her as a supporting character while Morowa--the main character, the true protagonist--is off kicking dragons in the teeth. I know I’m in a good place when I’m just so excited to explore the world, tweak my character’s backstory to make it fit for this new universe, and I just can’t stop thinking about all the different scenarios they could get themselves into and how they might react in this new world.

Does the lore line up with the OCs original lore enough or is it just cause you like the idea of that particular OC in that situation? Ex. Being like Morowa being adapted to DAI

Six of one, half dozen of the other. When I wanted to recreate Briisebrom in Dragon Age: Origins, it was great that magic users weren’t trusted in Ferelden. That character in Skyrim was already accustomed to being a magic-user in a land where magic was distrusted and feared. It made recreating her as Bree so easy. But there were ways that character fundamentally changed between worlds: Briisebrom in TES doesn’t give a fig about religion, Bree Amell in DAO is pretty zealous about her Andrastianism. I can justify the change because their circumstances changed: Brii’s family wasn’t terribly religious to begin with whereas Bree grew up surrounded by devout Andrastians and with Andrastianism as a core component of her upbringing. So I don’t try to be too rigid when it comes to lore. The character as she is between universes doesn’t have to be identical, only identifiable.

With Morowa, I just liked her as the Inquisitor more than I liked her as the Champion of Cyrodiil. The vigilante fuck-it-I-guess-I’ll-have-to-do-this-myself-and-then-burn-it-all-down-when-I-succeed feel to the overall narrative suited Morowa’s personality well.

TL;DR: I really don’t have a formal process or standard procedure--normally it’s just a lot of trying new things and failing. I go entirely off of what I want in that moment of starting a game and I genuinely have no idea when I’m starting a game if this or that old character of mine will work. All I know is that it’s a lot of fun when it does and I feel like I have a more solid grasp of my characters the more worlds they inhabit. 

[viconiadevirs]

valerius + 💥🍧🌌👑💙

thank you Leah!

OC EMOJI ASKS

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

Anger, and enough that I considered putting him onto the Demon path rather than the Lich path at the end of act 2. His isn't the blazing hot anger. It's the cold, quiet kind, which is far more terrifying. It's the kind of anger that he harnessed well as an inquisitor and aided him in interrogations. It boils to the surface on occasion still, but over the years he's managed to temper (ha...) it well and he has his outlets for dealing with it when his patience is tried.

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Believe it or not, he has an old stuffed animal in the shape of a bat from when he was a small boy (the Dragaveis were never subtle) - that he has had since he was three. It's been restitched and stuffed many times over the years, and while it remains in a trunk at the ancestral home in Caliphas, he still very much has a soft spot for it and would likely be devastated if he lost it. He passes it down to his son, Marius, once he is born - but not before enchanting it so it's a lot more durable. It is now a 41 year old stuffed animal after all.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

I had pretty much decided that I was going to play a dhampir as soon as I found out that dhampir were going to be in the game; being an Urgathoan was also something I really wanted to do from the outset. I'd done quite a bit of reading on deities etc beforehand and Urgathoa was one of the early faves. As for inspiration, my original idea for my PFKM like...this time last year was split into two - part of it went to Valerius (the undead bloodline, the Urgathoan worship), the other part went to Nazaria (initial bacground) - and I combined it with some aspects of a now-retired D&D character.

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

Though he wasn't thrilled about the role at the time, he did eventually want to be remembered as the one who successfully lead a campaign against the hordes of the Abyss, who closed the Worldwound - because no hero ever gets their proper thanks. And thanks to his audacious rejection of his mythic power in front of Nocticula herself, shunning Areelu Vorlesh, he's now a living legend, immortalized in a school of thought named after him; that core concept being in every one of us is a shadow in our souls, and that shadow can make you stronger but can impede your own understanding - and to fight the shadow - whatever the cost - is the path to a true strength of spirit.

Also he's lowkey remembered as being something of a tyrant while in tenure as the Governor of Drezen and the rumour mill implies he killed Queen Galfrey at Iz rather than her dying in battle there.

Yes; when Camellia disappears from time to time - and he knows she's doing what she has to do to keep him and their son from harm - usually in the form of taking some contracts as an assassin (a fine way for her to...indulge her habits) sometimes for weeks or occasionally months at a time, he misses her terribly. But he knows it's for the best, and she always comes back to him - wherever he and their son are. He is far more reserved and severe when she is not around, and his habit to indulge her often passes onto him spoiling Marius.

[shimmershae]

Just watched the episode and I’m going to have a lot of thoughts for you, most of them probably bordering on incoherence (LOL) so this is your last chance to nope on out of this post because I’m going to go ahead and put everything else behind a cut to save the eyes that do not want to see any  spoilers at all.  Unlike mine, that very much wanted to see but in a lot of cases?  Could not see shit, but I digress.

Shae’s stream of consciousness coming at you in 3-2-1.  

First of all, can I saw how good it is to have my show back again?  Like, no.  I don’t quite have Season 5 levels of excitement about the new/last season, but it is definitely nice to have all these characters back.  

So all these thoughts of mine.  Okay.  Bear with me because there be a whole lot of them, lol.  

My immediate impression as the episode opened was WHOA.  Such a cool shot of Daryl with one light wing, one dark wing (representing the two sides to Daryl maybe--the man of honor versus the man he was raised to be, hmm?) looking out over some dark vista of something.  Seriously.  It’s dark.  My room is also dark at the moment and still I was squinting to see.  To make out what I’m “looking” at.  I really, really hope the rest of this season isn’t this hard to make out.  

Is that a tank?  Kinda sorta a callback to Rick’s first episode?  If so, cool.  If not, well.  Us fans have always put way more thought into things.  For real.  Change my mind.  

Holy intense eye contact, Batman!  Daryl Dixon has literally never looked at anyone--not BethusConLeah--in quite the same smoldering way as he looks at Carol.  It’s next level.  I don’t know why people be fooling themselves into thinking different.  

Let’s see.  I can make out--besides Daryl, Maggie, and that face mask dude I already forgot the name of--Kelly, Magna, Jerry (who’s that with him?), and Carol.  Sorry.  My world, like Daryl’s, inevitably narrows to Carol.  She’s loking fierce and fine AF per usual.  

Was that Rosita I noticed rewinding to relive Daryl eye-fucking Carol?  

I’m guessing this is the army base they talked about in 10C.  

That Walker perking up like “I smell food--pancakes and bacon and oohhhh” has me giggling inappropriately right off the bat.  WTF.  

Look at all my fabulous ladies tiptoeing through that Walker minefield.  And Carol spotting that gun that might be useful right away.  Listen, if you don’t think her mind ain’t always ten steps ahead of everybody else’s, you’d be wrong.  

So.  Are these Walkers just so old and feeble not even the call of fresh meat attracts them?  Because just tiptoeing through their midst without the knockoff Lady Gaga meatsuits or skin masks has never really worked before that I can remember.  

I just want to see most of this season.  Is that really too much to ask?  Don’t X-Files and Game of Thrones us, Angela.  Please and thank you very fucking much.  

Okay.  Is the one drop of blood thing making anybody else have 28 Days Later vibes?  Kinda?  Sorta?  No?  Just me?  Okay then.  Carry on.  

Wait a minute, though.  How they be explaining how Daryl keeeps acquiring all these new tats all the time?  Hmm?  It’s like they just quit giving a shit about continuity in these latter seasons.  

I mean.  Do Walkers sleep now?  LMAO.  What is this?  I guess they’re constantly evolving?  

There’s my baby Lydia.  Love my smol bean.  

Alright though.  I love to see the ladies of TWD kick some ass.  It’s very gratifying.  Gimps would never.  Thank you, Angela.  

Clever, resourceful, calm and collected, quick thinking Carol to the rescue!  Seriously.  Her haters must be withering away inside with absolute envy.  

Hey, ya’ll.  Remember when Carol was still mastering her sharpshooting skills at the Prison yard and shot at Rick’s feet?  Her little “sorry, sorry”?  LOL.  If Rick could only see her now.  Wait.  He already knew what so many of his stans refuse to acknowledge--Carol=ultimate survivor and true savior to the group many times over.  

Maggie’s got herself a gun, too.  Go my badass girls.  

Of course, Carol’s got everybody’s back.  Of fucking course, Daryl’s got hers even when everybody else seem frozen in some kind of awe or stupification or something.  Microcosm of the whole damn show right there.  

Carol’s like “here’s your knives, love of my life.”   

Eh.  Maybe that’s just me.  

Nah.  She’s totally thinking it, too.  

YAS!  YAS!  Norman Reedus and Melissa McBride with the top billing.  How very far my babies have come.  

Listen.  I miss all the characters we’ve lost.  Absolutely.  But I love the ones that are still with us, that have been with us for so very long so hard.  Whether I love their stories or decisions or not.  

Is that THE Alexandria sign?  That sign’s been through some shit.  

DOG!  Daryl kneeling to embrace our Grimes babies has me all up in my feels.  And how cute is Dog getting all excited and making sure he’s the first one there to welcome back, Daddy?  

Hershel is literally just as puppy dog cute as Glenn ever was.  Really some Grade A casting.  

What did Maggie call Mr. T?  Ducky?  Dougie?  Sometimes with Maggie?  I really cannot tell.  Anyway.  He’s Mr. T. for me until I find out differently, probably through rewatching with close captioning, lol.  

Maggie’s got more people.  So.  Some new redshirts to sacrifice for plot purposes.  I don’t know if I should bother learning their names or not. 

I seem to remember Meridian being mentioned in one of the episode synopses.  

Sophia’s hair tie around Carol’s neck will never fail to be an emotional throat punch.  My heart.  

“They come at night and by the time you see them, you’re already dead.”  Welp.  Guess that means we ain’t seeing shit for at least this first third of the season, lol.  Very horror-eque though.  

“You’re leaving to fight ghosts.”  Aaron, to Maggie.  So I see Aaron’s the type to get the hell outta Dodge when the Boogeyman comes calling, hahaha.  Least he was.  In the old world.  

Rosita’s pissed off expression at Gabe’s decision to volunteer for the so-called suicide mission gives me life.  

My baby Carol is tired AF of suicide missions.  You can tell.  Also?  Methinks she has something to prove to Daryl here.  Or at least feels like she does.  

Dog with his little tactical vest.  I love it.  

I guess I get why they had Carol and Rosita stay behind.  They had to more evenly split up the badassery to make things more fair and balanced, lol.  

Okay.  So Negan’s definitely earned everybody’s disdain.  But they’re being woefully short-sighted by not at least hearing the dude out.  Isn’t he at least native to the area?  

“That is God telling us to turn around.”  I’m actually on Negan’s side with this one, but Gabe answering him with “I’m pretty sure he would have run that past me first” has me howling with laughter.  Father Gabe has gone straight up savage in these last couple of seasons.  Rosita’s influence, perhaps?  

I see what Angela is doing.  Trying to make Negan the voice of reason.  In this particular case?  It’s kind of working.  I’m still ultimately on Maggie’s side with this though BECAUSE GLENN.  

Imagine showing up to work and unironically dressing like a storm trooper every day.  Excuse me while I LOL.  

Even in the ZA, there’s bullshit paperwork.  

“Pumpkin colored spacesuit.”  Good one, Ezekiel.  

LOL forever.  I love Princess.  

“Michonne.  Our Michonne shut people out of Alexandria for years.”  Timely reminder that choices aren’t always perfect.  Neither are people.  

WTF is reprocessing?  Sounds ominous.  LMAO at Eugene’s “Okay.  We gotta go.”  

What in the actual hell with all those bagged, squirming undead?  Creepy AF in that subway tunnel.  

Should I just go ahead and call that the Easter bunny?  We’ve had some version of it pop up since Season 1.  

Is it stubborn pride with Maggie or what?  Why go through with something when all signs point toward the wisdom of stopping?  You can argue that she’s acting similarly to Carol last season, but there’s a huge difference here folks.  Carol did her damndest to Lone Wolf that shit and minimize the danger to those she loved.  Maggie’s straight up enlisting those she “cares about” to carry out her mission of revenge or vengeance, what have you. Let’s see if she gets near the amount of hate for it.  Personally, I don’t blame her for her feelings one bit.  They are valid.  But her knowingly drawing the others into the game?  That’s my sticking point.  That’s how she and Carol differ, even if some people refuse to see or accept it.  Anyway.  Hopping right on off my soapbox.  

“Why don’t you get up on your little tippy toes and try?”  Omigosh, I’d dying.  When I tell you I about passed out with laughter, I do not exaggerate.  I should hate Negan forever and I do.  Really.  But I adore JDM and he frequently makes me LOL.  He’s made Negan entertaining if not completely redeemable since Angela took over and more layered so I say kudos.  

He has a point about Maggie playing dictator.  Damn you, show, for slanting the writing just that smidgen that makes Negan make sense over his victim.  I guess, though, it’s better this way.  Gives both characters more shades of gray.  

“He’s a dick but he makes sense.”  I feel like this is Angela calling us all out when we dare to harbor any lasting resentment toward Negan for what he did to Glenn.  

Speaking of--Negan.  You deserved Daryl’s punch to the mouth.  You just went a bridge too damn far.  

“Keep pushing me, Negan.  Please.”  Warning shots fired, Asshole.  You better watch yourself around the Widow Rhee.  

Have I mentioned how much I love Princess?  Her shipping the Commonwealth guards is killing me, lol.  I can’t wait ‘til she meets Carol and Daryl.  She’s going to have their number in two seconds flat.  

I like Ezekiel and Princess as a duo.  I’m not saying romantically necessarily.  I just like them in scenes together because they’re fun.  There’s sort of a protective indulgence Ezekiel seems to telegraph whenever they’re in scenes together.  Like he’s like don’t hurt this one.  I don’t know.  For all these words I’ve written, I can’t quite find the ones to adequately describe what I mean.  

The wall of the lost gives me such Battlestar Galactica feels.  What sad thoughts it inspires.  

Eugene in that Commonwealth gear.  Omigosh, lol.  So did they just sneak up and take Princess’s little Commonwealth ship’s gear when they were sneaking off on their own to have a quickie?  

Princess finding that note for Yumiko on the wall actually gave me chills.  Yeah.  I’m easy.  Just the suggestion of someone getting reunited with lost family gets me all up in my feels.  Yumiko saying “I have to stay”?  I felt that.  

Oh no.  Dog ran off!  Somebody protect my favorite fictional puppy.  Of course, Daryl goes after him.  He’s always been the sweet one.  Merle said it.  

Eh.  Negan taking Maggie’s hand at the end there would have smacked too much of Negan Sue and Maggie’s biggest plot of the season would have been prematurely dealt with so I get why they did what they did.  But c’mon.  It’s not really that big of a cliffhanger, is it?  

Okay, so Angela calls those sleeping beauty Walkers “Lurkers” and I get it.  Apparently they’re a bigger deal in the comics, but I really don’t remember seeing them all that much on the actual show.  Somebody jog my memory.  

Of fucking course, you can actually see what’s happening in the inside the episode clips.  I wish we could choose to view the episode with that lighting because some of us be blind.  And this time I mean in the more literal sense.  Not the figurative one.  

Anyway.  I’m going to stop trying to write a novel for ya’ll and move on to better things.  Like maybe a nap.  Maybe some early dinner.  I don’t know.  I’m tired AF and need a little recharge.    

Before I go, though?  Overall impression of the episode?  I liked it.  There were parts that I loved (all the ladies being badass, every second of Carol, Daryl reuniting with the Grimes babies and Dog, all things Princess, some of Negan’s one-liners about had me busting a gut, Rosita serving looks, Kelly and Lydia getting to be badass too) and parts I didn’t love (not being able to see a damn thing, Angela trying to tip the scales in Negan’s favor, not enough Carol or Aaron or Rosita, no reunion between Aunt Carol and the Grimes babies even though that picture floating around suggests it was at least shot, not being able to see a damn thing, all the Alexandria people playing follow the leader for Maggie when she’s been gone 6 years and Daryl’s right there--hell, even Father G deserves the honor over her because it’s obvious they’re not exactly on the same wavelength anymore).  

I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m just glad to have our show back.    

Later, lovelies.  

[i-am-just-a-kiddo]

fic tag game

thank you so much for tagging me @cortue 💕 it’s always nice to hear about other people’s writing process/thoughts. i am tagging my dear @vishcount of course. anyone else who wants to share about their writing, feel free to do this and tag me in your post! 

Name: iamjustakiddo i just decided to stick with my tumblr username because i’m not really creative with my own nicknames. and honestly, i don’t mind just being kiddo online. 

Fandoms: during 2019-2020 i was most active in The Untamed fandom, though i have been taking a break lately. i still have some stories left that i wish to tell, so i hope some time in the future i can return to this universe. this fandom gave me so much, especially having so much fun with my dear friend vishie. i have a lot of fics for BTS as well, though it’s been a while since i wrote something there. all of them are AUs and i just enjoy drawing inspiration from the boys. last year i also dabbled with YYY The Series, Winter Begonia, Hwarang and Nirvana In Fire - all of these have been very fun, eventhough those were only a smaller projects. I also have an ongoing story for Narnia which i updated recently. Currently I have a WIP for Original Sin and my silly comic for Strangers From Hell - both of those i will never publish. And for the past two-three years I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for ATLA, so i hope i can get this down on paper at some point finally.  it’s interesting that i have dabbled in so many different fandoms recently, which is unusual for me? i link this to my difficulties with writing. sometimes i wonder if i should return at all or just give up. but i miss it too much, so i have not given up hope yet

Tropes: I don’t think i write any particular tropes? i write a lot of angst, a lot of introspection and character studies. i love slow burn, though i never actually manage to write ‘proper’ slowburn so it always feels too short. i love friends to lovers or enemies to friends to lovers. i love writing stories that are bittersweet. i guess recently i have become interested in writing relationships with more problematic sides to them, exploring these kinds of dynamics that feel very heavy? i am not sure why, but it’s interesting.  i guess the one proper trope my friend pointed out for me was Drunk Kissing, because apparently that happens a lot in my fics. 

Fic I spent most time on: Take Me Into Your Skin this is a BTS Mafia AU i wrote back in 2018 and took me half a year (Jan - Aug) to write, excluding the epilogue which i posted a year later. it was the first multichaptered fanfiction i had ever written and i still can’t believe it became more than 160k words in the end. the story feels silly at parts and i would probably change a lot now, but i am still very proud of it

Favorite fic you’ve written: it’s definitely my niemo (Nie Huaisang/Mo Xuanyu) which i wrote march-june 2020 and it left something aching in my heart ever since. it was a very intense process, but i feel proud of it. i did the best i can, poured so much time and energy into giving these two characters a story. it was a sad, heartbreaking journey which made canon only worse for me, but i still enjoyed the process. it will forever stay with me, probably. 

additionally i want to mention my silla taegi AU, because i had ton of fun doing proper historical research for that and creating more historical gay angst. 

Fic I spent least time on: To Wish Impossible Things it’s a taegi 70s-90s AU, about their reunion as adults after breaking up when they were teenagers. i wrote this story in one afternoon and posted it on the same evening? i think that was the only time something like this happened. usually i am not this spontaneous. but i enjoyed writing this so much and the scenario just didn’t leave my mind - writing a meeting between two adults, remembering their youth. it was so nice and i adored making the playlist for it as well. i think today i would go back and check for more historical accuracies because i did not research for this, but i forgive myself.

Longest fic: the previously mentioned Mafia AU with 167.535 words and 20 chapters. 

Shortest fic: my snippet for hwarang’s yeowool/hanseong with 777 words. today i regret that i could only write such a short piece for them, but that was the time my writing slump began showing signs and i truly did not have the capacity to give them what they deserve.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks: amongst all of these, my mafia AU wins again - the only exception is heart made of glass, my first wangxian post-canon fic i wrote, which has the most kudos. i never really understood why, but i guess i had good timing posting so early while ao3 did not have many fics for the untamed yet. 

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: precious stone & fine jade - this is a oneshot i wrote for Wen Ning & Song Lan. i list this here because i have actually planned to write more for them, since i realised i need more. i always loved the idea of them befriending each other, sharing the fate of being undead in this world and yet dealing with it so differently? i want to write more about their relationship in my universe. am excited to see where it takes me and in actuality, i just want to see them hug. 

another one would be remedy, surging sea - it’s a oneshot for princess sook myung/ahro from hwarang. i just wish i could give these girls a proper story and make up for the mess hwarang left me with. this oneshot only gives a glimpse of what i have imagined for them and i wish i could expand the story properly. 

Share a bit of a WIP: i have a ton of WIPs but i am writing nothing currently. so i am not sure what to share here? i have shared my halted original sin project last time and now i have a few the untamed wips floating around that i don’t want to share. i have no current writing project but maybe i can talk about my strangers from hell comic? 

it’s a very silly idea, but i am drawing/painting this comic for jongwoo’s revenge arc. i am basically following the same trope as hannibal - jongwoo gaining moon-jo’s trust, becoming his ally and betraying him in the end. i will never finish this project, but that’s what i want to do, theoretically. i have the story and 15 pages outlined, but have actually drawn only 5,5 pages. after jongwoo’s betrayal and moon-jo’s heartbreak, i want these two characters to finally be on equal footing. their third act would be reconciliation and maybe true allyship.  thank you for tagging me again. it makes me miss writing but also makes me proud of things i have already done. 

[ladyherenya]

Books read in October

I read a paperback book for the first time in over three months months and was sharply aware that I couldn’t change anything about the way the text was displayed to make it more comfortable to read. I wondered, sadly, if I no longer like reading physical books.

Then I became engrossed in the story, and there were long stretches of time when I didn’t think about how I was reading a brick of printed paper. I turned pages as automatically and effortlessly as breathing. I think I was just out of practice.

This month’s Unintentional Colour Scheme: pink, purple and light blue.

Favourite covers: The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball and The Other Side of the Sky. 

Also read: “Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis and Tiny House, Big Love by Olivia Dade. (And half a romance novel which I disliked and have no interest in remembering or reviewing.) 

Reread: The last section of The Beckoning Hills by Ruth Elwin Harris. The middle section of Hunting by Andrea K. Höst.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, and Angel Mage by Garth Nix.

Next up: The Switch  by Beth O’Leary, and Hamster Princess: Little Red Rodent Hood by Ursula Vernon.

*

The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball by Aster Glenn Gray: A magical story of time-travel and of friendship between eleven year old Piper, who has just moved into a new house, and Rosie, who lived in the same house fifty years earlier. It’s totally charming, and exactly the sort of story I adored growing up. Sometimes that makes me wish I could send a book back in time to my younger self, but I appreciated this book’s references to things that my younger self didn’t know about. I also appreciated how, even though I’ve read similar stories, I couldn’t predict how this one would end. That was very satisfying.

The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett: In 1547, Francis Crawford, the Master of Lymond, wanted by the Scottish government for treason, is back in Edinburgh. The audiobook was the perfect way to experience this! The voices the narrator uses highlights clues in the text, about who’s speaking or the subtext and emotional tones of a conversation, which helped me to follow the story even when I felt confused about exactly what was going on. I enjoyed the Scottish accents, the clever wit, the ambiguity about Lymond’s plans and motives, and the way many characters are very intelligent, perceptive people. I was interested in the historical political intrigue. I loved the twists and revelations, which are brilliant -- incredibly clever and satisfying.

“Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis:  The first “fantasy rom-com” about a grumpy inventor who, along with her father, moves into a cottage nextdoor to a notorious necromancer in his big black castle. I wasn’t expecting to read about Mia stitching up undead minions, but appreciate that Burgis doesn’t take this opportunity to give glory details. This short story was fun and satisfying, and I am looking forward to when the rest of this series becomes (easily) available.

Lake of Sorrows by Erin Hart: After Haunted Ground, Dr Nora Gavin heads to the midlands west of Dublin to oversee the evacuation of another body discovered in a peat bog. The setting is fascinating and I like the atmosphere -- this has a strong sense of both place and mystery. However the multiple murders meant there’s more unpleasantness than I’d prefer. But it’s probably not enough to deter me from reading the next book.

The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams: Engrossing -- a poignant story of childhood during the late 19th century and womanhood in the early 20th century, and an absolutely fascinating insight into the decades-long process behind the first Oxford English Dictionary. Esme’s father is one of the lexicographers collecting and defining words for the Dictionary. Esme grows up with a fascination for words and begins to collect words that the Dictionary leaves out. I liked that Esme has people in her life who love and support her, but the ending is intensely sad. I’m not sure why that disappointed me. As an ending, it fits this story.

Taking Down Evelyn Tait by Poppy Nwosu: Australian YA. Lottie is furious that no one else seems to realise what Evelyn Tait, her nemesis (and stepsister) is like. Her best friend Grace is in love with Evelyn. Her teachers and her father tell Lottie she should emulate Evelyn. So Lottie decides that she’s going to do just that -- she’s going to be better than Miss Perfect. I thought this was a very realistic portrayal of a teenager’s relationships -- with family, with friends, with school and with herself. It’s amusing and, ultimately, believably positive. It captures Lottie’s perspective and her experiences in-the-moment so effectively and intensely.

Wired Love: a romance of dots and dashes by Ella Cheever Thayer (1888): Nattie, a telegraph operator who chats whenever she can “over the wire” with C., another telegraph operator miles down the line. I love stories where characters fall in love through exchanged messages. And the experiences of telegraph operators is absolutely fascinating -- simultaneously a product of the past and yet incredibly relatable from a contemporary perspective, because the internet and mobile phones mean we communicate so much through text. After Nattie and Clem meet, the focus shifts away from the telegraph office to antics at their boardinghouse, but the story continues to be fun and delightful. 

Once Upon a Con series by Ashley Poston:

Geekerella: When Elle discovers her late parents’ cosplay costumes in a box in the attic, she hatches a plan to enter a cosplay competition and use the prize to escape her step-family. This contemporary Cinderella retelling about two teenage fans of a SF series Starfield is a romance-through-messages story. Elle uses her father’s old phone, so sometimes she gets messages from people about ExcelsiCon, the convention her father founded. One message sparks a conversation -- but neither she nor Darien realise just who they’re texting. As expected, this is fun and fandom-y, and it makes the coincidences and Cinderella moments feel believable.

The Princess and the Fangirl: At ExcelsiCon, Starfield actress Jessica Stone swaps places with a fan, Imogen. Jess needs to find a mislaid script before she’s accused of leaking it, and Imogen hopes for an opportunity to promote the #Save Amara initiative. I enjoyed how they both experience a different side of fandom. Imogen discovers the pressures of being a star, when con appearances are your job, and, away from the spotlight, Jess discovers how cons allow people to come together and celebrate things they love.  My only disappointment was the way they both deceive Imogen’s fandom friend, Harper. I wish that had been handled differently.

The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove by Kellie Hailes: Unlike other books I’ve borrowed because they had “bookshop” in the title, this didn’t focus very much on books, nor did it describe its bookshop vividly. Sophie could have easily owned a different sort of shop without changing the plot, the setting or the atmosphere. This is a light-hearted romance about nice people in a generic seaside town -- not what I was looking for. I wanted more about books and a stronger sense of place.

Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly (narrated by Cassandra Campbell, Kathleen Gati and Kathrin Kana): This begins with three different women at the start of WWII -- a teenager in Poland, a newly-graduated doctor in Germany and a wealthy consulate worker in New York -- and  becomes about the Ravensbruck Rabbits, Polish political prisoners subjected to medical experimentation. Not what I expected or wanted to be reading (which is not its fault. I switched to the ebook, because I'm irrationally squeamish about some medical things and cope better when reading to myself). This story is compelling and does a good job of showing how the pain and trauma didn’t just end with the war. And it’s incredibly important to keep telling stories about distressing parts of history. 

The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner: More or less the sort of story I expected from these two. Nimh is the Divine One in a world of magic and prophecy. North is a prince in a floating city of science and engineering. Nimh believes the gods fled into the sky thousands of years ago, and North believes no one still lives down on the surface… until he crashes his glider. I enjoyed this but don’t feel any emotional investment -- yet. I will read the sequel.

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade: April and Marcus keep fandom separate from their professional lives -- April to avoid negative comments, Marcus (an actor) to avoid violating his contract. So when Marcus sees a cosplay photo of April online, he doesn’t recognise his friend, he just sees a gorgeous woman getting nasty comments and invites her to dinner. I was hooked. As a romance, this didn’t always focus on the things I most wanted it to, but I understood why it made those narrative choices and liked how the characters resolved their mistakes. And I really liked it as a story about fanfiction and the way we tell stories in response to other stories.

Big Love, Tiny House by Olivia Dade: Lucy goes on a Tiny House Hunting show and drags along her best friend Sebastian. I’ve watched countless tiny house videos on Youtube, so it was fun to see tiny houses depicted in fiction -- although I was disappointed that all the houses are so disastrously bad. Beyond that, I have no strong feelings one way or another about this romance novella.

Memento: an Illuminae Files novella by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff (narrated by a full cast): A bonus prequel, set aboard the Alexander prior to the events of Illuminae. The audiobook is so well done! Even though this is a short story/novella, I cared about the new characters it introduces -- I really like the epistolary format and how it requires the reader to fill in some of the gaps for themselves. (I think that’s part of why I love The Illuminae Files but so far have no strong feelings about Kaufman and Kristoff’s latest series.) And it’s always interesting to see more of AIDAN.

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Episode 31 Review: Danger to the Cryonics Capsule

{ Not available on YouTube }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

And now we reach Episode 31, the first episode that isn’t currently available on YouTube. In fact, none of Week 7 is available on YouTube, which means no Bad Subtitle Special until the end of Week 8. (Is anyone else disappointed, or is it just me?) It’s a pity, because this is both a good episode and probably relatively unchanged from Ian Martin’s original script, although the absence of cheesy one-liners about the Devil does suggest some rewriting.

Here's the synopsis for this one, by the way, from the October 24, 1969 issue of The Plain Dealer:

It’s interesting to note that, while this summary comes from the period of the Lost Episode summaries, it still accurately describes the plot of the aired version of the episode. It doesn’t describe all of it, but then, none of the newspaper summaries do, before or after the Lost Episodes period. So, without further ado, let’s hurry back to the crypt on Maljardin and check on Erica Desmond’s cryonics capsule.

Dan trying to stop the cryonics tank from malfunctioning, despite knowing nothing about how it works. Not generally a smart idea.

While Jean Paul and Elizabeth are still with Vangie at the French Leave Café, the cryonics capsule's cooling mechanism malfunctions and its tank starts spraying water upwards. Dan tries to get it to stop spraying, but his efforts are in vain and he calls for Alison. She freaks out and they both run down there, but it doesn’t stop until just after Quito arrives around the corner.

There’s a scene where they’re trying to fix the machine and both of them are talking to each other, but the only audio we hear is the background music. Not sure if that was deliberate on the part of the writer or the director, or if it’s a blooper.

Alison asks Dan what he was doing down there, and he confesses that he was searching for the missing cyanide. There’s an interesting part where he says “I’m not sure I trust [Raxl] or that zombie,” and Quito--who is still hiding--clenches his fists as though angered by the reminder of his undead state.

Quito clenching his fists just before the intro.

After they return to the Great Hall, Alison blames Dan--"perhaps you inadvertently crossed the wires," she says--but he denies it. I'm surprised that Alison would accuse cautious, practical Dan of something so careless, but I don’t know him as well as she does. I’m also not sure how inadvertently crossing the wires would cause a tank to start spraying water, and I’m not sure the characters have any idea, either.

On the main island with Jean Paul and Vangie, Jean Paul recaps his cryonics scheme in a way that makes it clear that Ian Martin and/or the meddling executives really didn’t want him to repeat his catchphrase from the earlier episodes again:

Jean Paul on Erica’s resurrection: "It WILL happen. I made that vow the day my darling wife was stricken IN SPITE OF GOD!"

Raxl, of course, blames THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES for the leak in the capsule’s tank. Raxl may be right--she usually is about matters of the occult--but after learning of the note from the Episode 30 script about who pushed Holly down the stairs, I’m thinking that the true culprit is someone else, someone less obvious. This scene also provides some blatant foreshadowing for the aborted plotline involving Tarasca:

Raxl: “The master must be protected from all demons, from the past and in the present, especially the witch who seeks to own him!”

The next shot.

A clear shot from shortly after of Elizabeth’s dramatic eye makeup.

The witch’s own version of Bissits Face™?

Meanwhile on the main island, Jean Paul convinces Vangie to hold a séance to contact Erica's spirit, which she is willing to do if slightly reluctant because she knows that she will eventually die on Maljardin.  This suggestion excites Elizabeth, whom he has to remind that "it is not a game."  She also asks if he would ever let her go, and he says that he would only let her return to Maljardin: proof that Jean Paul is still on board with the whole detained guests thing.

In the lab, Alison is searching the drawers of Dr. Menkin’s cabinet for his notes on Erica and finds a small notepad hidden among the papers in one. She reads it, her mouth agape, as Raxl enters.

What could it say about Erica?

Raxl lets Alison know that she knows about Dan searching for the missing cyanide in the crypt and is not pleased. She asks Alison if Dan doesn’t trust her, and she defends him, saying that none of them can trust each other anymore. Then they debate whether or not one of the other characters made the machine break down. Alison says that she now thinks it most likely broke down on its own, but Raxl still insists that someone (by which she means Jacques) tampered with it. Raxl has a point, because brand-new water tanks don’t generally start spraying out huge amounts of water on their own like the capsule’s cooling tank was doing.

SCENE INTERRUPTING DAN: “Hello, Raxl. I didn’t know you were interested in lab experiments, too.” (LOL)

Even though the leak was clearly the work of supernatural forces, Alison still tells Dan, "Don't make any more waves around here." Good luck with that. You may want to talk Jean Paul into having Quito buy you duct tape the next time you see him, then tape Dan’s mouth shut and tie his hands behind his back to keep him from tearing it off. That’s the only way to stop him from accusing Jean Paul of being a murderer and imprisoning all of you here. (It will also make it easier to get with your far more attractive brother-in-law, especially if you leave Dan in his bedroom while the two of you wrestle with your unresolved sexual tension in the Great Hall.)

In the crypt, Raxl tells Quito that it’s time to begin searching the caskets for the conjure doll and the silver pin--which I thought she said they already did in previous episodes, but I could be wrong. Maybe they just want to double-check to make sure they checked everywhere in the basement. Quito begins pulling open Jacques’ casket and we cut to a couple filler scenes with the other characters. When we return to Raxl and Quito, we find her back upstairs searching the fireplace in the Great Hall for the doll and pin. When Quito arrives, she asks him if he found them in the casket and he shakes his head. They head upstairs to continue their search--which, again, I thought she said that they already searched upstairs in Episode 29, but I suppose they just want to double-check.

Alison tells Dan when he next visits the lab that Dr. Menkin was trying to learn how to recreate an entire human body. Reminds me of Frankenstein. Dr. Frankenstein and Dr. Menkin both tried to play God by creating a living human body, but their experiments differed in that Frankenstein used cadaver parts to build his man, while Menkin’s experiments involved cellular regeneration and possibly (based on the sources referenced in Episode 26) robotics/artificial intelligence as well. I don’t know if Martin had planned to draw a direct parallel between the Drs. Menkin and Frankenstein at some point, but I suspect he was.

But Alison still doesn’t know enough about his experiments to satisfy her (or us), because all of Dr. Menkin’s notes from the six weeks before his death are missing. This is suspicious for obvious reasons, given his death shortly after her arrival, which she still doesn’t know was Jacques’ fault for no other reason than that she was upstairs at the time when he told Raxl his highly suspicious story about Menkin’s “accident” in the water.

Really, Dan? A bottle of cyanide goes missing and yet you willingly drink alcohol that’s been sitting out where anyone could pour poison into it? SMH Yet another reason why Alison should duct tape your mouth shut.

Dan is suspicious of Raxl--who is just about the last character they should suspect of hiding the cyanide or murdering either Erica or Dr. Menkin--but even more suspicious of Jean Paul. He and Alison also discuss how Jean Paul may not have filed Erica's death certificate with the authorities and how suspicious this makes him look--which is recap, yes, but which I bring up again because it is still relevant. I am really thinking (and was really thinking as far back as last fall) that Martin was originally planning to reveal that Jean Paul killed Erica and was trying to resurrect her out of some combination of guilt, regret, and fear that Erica's death would make him look suspicious. This would not only make these clues worth more than red herrings (or, should I say, kippers?), but it would also connect to all the things that Jacques says about he and Jean Paul not being so different. I have a whole theory about this, which I plan to discuss in a future post sometime later in this arc.

Alison also mentions some sea caves five hundred yards from an unseen cove on Maljardin, which she says Raxl told her about (unfortunately, I don’t remember in which episode). This seems to be foreshadowing something--I’m guessing the discovery of Jacques’ pirate ship that’s mentioned in another episode--but they never visit the caves, unless that’s where the Temple of the Serpent is located.

Back on the main island, Jean Paul has returned, but Vangie has left to go somewhere. Jean Paul says that she is probably packing a few days’ clothing for her stay on his island. Elizabeth is relieved to hear that she will only be there a few days. She also reveals that she sees Vangie as "competition" for Jean Paul's affections. (LOL) I would say that she is deluding herself, but then, she is unaware that Jean Paul was possessed all the times that he flirted with her; in her mind, Jacques is the real Jean Paul and the Jean Paul who mourns Erica is “not himself.” It does explain, however, why she was clinging to him in that one scene from last episode. Even so, Vangie never has any love interests on the show. I’ve suspected for a while that she and Raxl secretly have a thing for each other. Obviously they wouldn’t have shown that on TV in 1969, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t still ship them together.[1]

Elizabeth’s profession of interest in him motivates Jacques to possess him again, and we get

HEADACHE FACES! Yay!

After possessing him, Jacques reassures Elizabeth that he is very much still interested in her (Elizabeth, I mean, not Vangie). He also sends the audience more false hopes for Holly's death: "I'd stake Jean Paul Desmond's life, virtually every day…What’s one life, more or less? It doesn't even matter whose life. Take your daughter for example, before she's twenty-one and inherits all those millions."

Elizabeth looks appalled by this suggestion, but it’s hard to say if she truly is or if it’s all an act. I’m sure, though, that this is, roughly, the thought process going through Jacques’ mind:

Coming up next: Jean Paul and Vangie make more arrangements for the séance to contact Erica and Raxl reveals more of Maljardin’s history.

{ <- Previous: Episode 30   ||   Next: Episode 32 -> }

Notes

[1] In the books, Quito is Raxl’s husband, but that obviously isn’t the case on the show, or else she would most likely be jealous of his affections for Holly. The fact that she isn’t suggests that the two aren’t married (or, at the very least, aren’t married anymore) in the show canon. This means that Raxl doesn’t have a canonical love interest.

[mrslittletall]

Title: A Storm is coming (Chapter 28) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein Word Count: 7.115 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610/chapters/60837541 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/620106785321369600/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-27-fandom-dark

Summary: Tempest and Ornstein are venturing into the Oolacile Township in search of the key that opens the path to Gough.

(Author's note: It feels like it has been a while. Simply put, I was finishing up some requests and couldn't write as much on Storm as well as I was a bit uninspired, because I had to play through the game again and take notes. I now finally managed to do it (had to put the game offline because of all the invaders) and could write out the next chapter. Please enjoy!)

“It looks like the town has been swallowed by an earthquake.”, Tempest murmured, walking behind Ornstein.

“In a sense, this is what happened.”, Ornstein said as he went down the stairs right in front of them. “The township got swallowed by the abyss. It won't take long anymore and no living being will be able to even walk here anymore. We are only able because the abyss hasn't spread too far yet.”

Right after Ornstein had finished his explanation, he turned around and stabbed a dark coloured creature with too long limbs and too many eyes. It looked identical to the one that Artorias had killed before they had fought him, Tempest noticed.

“How did you know it was there?”, Tempest asked.

“I still remember a lot about this place. I have ventured into it after everything had been over. Back then, Sif was at my side. Or more, this will still happen. Speaking about Sif, we should look out for her. She hasn't been at Artorias' or Ciaran's side.”

“Sif..”, Tempest said and then clapped his hands. “Oh, Artorias' wolf companion! I guess something like a wolf isn't too easy to overlook.”

“Still, keep an eye out for her.”, Ornstein said and stopped in front of a few stairs. On their left was a roof of a sunken house. “Little Storm, step up on there.”, Ornstein said, pointing at it.

“Why?”, Tempest said and climbed on the roof. Right as he was on top of it, he learned just why Ornstein wanted him up there. Down there were a full four of these creatures with the awful bloated head. Bloathead! That would be the name Tempest would give them from now on.

“I lure them in and take the ones in the front and then you plunge on the ones in the back.”, Ornstein said. “Luckily they aren't very intelligent, having gone completely mad.”

The bloatheads only felt the need to confirm Ornstein's word by pointing and snickering at each other. Tempest didn't question Ornstein's choice of words... it was pretty obvious that these bloatheads once must have been the population of Oolacile, having been corrupted by the abyss. Technically, they were like hollows, there was no way for them to ever come back.

“I am ready, Ornstein.”, Tempest whispered and ducked down on the roof, sword in both hands.

“Good.”, Ornstein whispered back and then headed down the stairs with wide strides, readying his spear. As soon as the bloatheads heard his steps, all four of them charged. Ornstein impaled the two on the front on his spear and Tempest dropped down, sinking his sword in one of the bloathead's head... but missing the other! Damn, he should have taken this in account, Tempest and his weapon were far smaller, even the bloatheads towered over him. As Tempest still was busy trying to get his sword out of the swollen head, the last bloathead raised its claws to swipe at him. Tempest gasped and freed his sword by sheer force, only to stumble and crash against the wall behind him. As Tempest waited for the claws to come down, hands already on his Estus, the bloathead suddenly stopped moving and looked down in confusion, screaming in pain once it noticed the tip of a spear through his chest.

“That was dangerous, little Storm.”, Ornstein said. “My apologies, I should have known that you wouldn't have been big enough to plunge attack two of them.”

Tempest, still sitting there with his sword clutched in one hand and the other on his Estus, slowly stood up. “Thank you, Ornstein.”, he said.

“Don't mention it.”, Ornstein said. “Let's move on. And keep an eye out for the key and Sif.”

Tempest nodded and followed Ornstein who turned to the left. He stopped briefly in front of a dome with a tile, stepped on it and when nothing happened, he mumbled: “Inactive, of course...”

“Oh, is that an elevator like in the gardens?”, Tempest asked and Ornstein nodded his head, a nearly unnoticeable shift in his posture, but Tempest had spend enough time at Ornstein's side now to know that it was a nod.

As they went down more stairs, Tempest said: “Isn't it strange that the town sunk in a way that the stairs perfectly line up? How great is the chance of that happening?”

“We don't have to agonize our brains about this fact.”, Ornstein said. “Just be grateful for this coincidence. If not for the stairs, we would have been forced to climb down. That would have been very difficult with my arm.”

“How is it, by the way?”, Tempest asked, eyeing Ornstein's left arm. He knew that Ornstein was able to move it, so it was not broken, but Tempest had seen the wound and it was a bad one. It must hurt a lot and Ornstein was keeping a straight face. Or maybe he was clenching his teeth under this helmet of his and was merely keeping it together. For Tempest's sake.

“I'll live.”, Ornstein said. “I had more severe injuries, little Storm. It is a nuisance, nothing more.”

Tempest had the feeling that Ornstein wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't had any time to think more about it, because two more bloatheads came their way. Ornstein was taking down one of them and Tempest put himself in the way of the other, managing to take it down without taking a hit of its claws. It appeared that he truly was getting better at his whole fighting stuff.

“How comes it that you managed to take them down with one hit?”, Tempest asked as Ornstein removed his spear from the bloathead. The tip was more then coated in blood by now. Tempest had the feeling he could see tiny little abyssal sludge drip down from it too.

“I have been a knight for long enough to be able to attack the vital points with ease.”, Ornstein said. “You are still a bit more clumsy. You manage to hurt your foe, but you need to wound them several times until their wounds are life threatening. If you learn to strike at the vital points, you can end them far more quickly and easier and less painful.”

“I am impressed, Ornstein.”, Tempest smiled. “Even in your state and at this place, you still care about giving your adversary a clean death. You have to teach me how to do it.”

“Not really easy when there isn't anything to practice on.”, Ornstein murmured. “We can't just borrow the hollows from the archives... or could we...”

“Don't tell my you are considering it.”, Tempest laughed and then gasped as a ball of dark missed him by a beat, followed by snickering.

“A sorcerer.”, Ornstein said and readied his spear. “Leave it to me. Take out its friend.” Tempest slowly nodded and crept closer to his target as Ornstein was approaching the sorcerer. It was using a catalyst that Tempest had never seen before as well as the magic, he also never had seen it before. Sorceries were blue, pyromancy was red, but it was never dark purple.

As Ornstein was confronting the sorcerer, Tempest fought with his foe and tried to copy Ornstein by boring his sword right into a vital point, but he must have missed, because the bloathead only screeched and seemed to get angry. While his sword was stuck, Tempest quickly summoned a fireball and ended the sorry existence of the bloathead by burning its head off. Then he pulled his sword out and turned around, eyes falling onto something in a nearby building.

“Hey, Ornstein, there is something. Let me check it out.”, Tempest said.

“Little Storm, be careful.”, Ornstein said. “It could be a...”

Before Ornstein could finish his sentence, a hidden bloathead had charged at Tempest and dug its claws deep in his arm.

“...trap.”, Ornstein finished and then ran over to take care of the bloathead while Tempest was busy fiddling with his Estus.

“Oh, ouch.”, Tempest said as the claw marks closed, sometimes the closing of the wounds was hurting more than actually receiving them. “I should have known better, Ornstein. Once again you saved me.”

“Has getting injured at least been worth it?”, Ornstein asked.

Tempest looked at the corpse next to him and determined that the shining thing he had seen was a floating soul. “Poor guy.”, Tempest said. “Probably has been lured into the trap.” He then put the soul into his dark sign and stood up.

“...I will never get used seeing that.”, Ornstein said. Tempest looked at him with wide eyes before realization dawned.

“Oh, putting or removing souls in the dark sign? Believe me, Ornstein, it feels a lot worse than it looks like. It tries so desperately to cling onto anything you put in there, that removing souls is downright painful. If Undead are comfortable enough with each other, they can trade souls by touching each other, but letting your dark sign be touched feels super awkward, so I normally prefer to get them out, even though it hurts.”, Tempest rambled.

“I didn't need such a detailed explanation, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and then headed to the stairs leading down, but Tempest stopped him.

“Wait, Ornstein, there leads a path around that building!”, he said. “We are searching for Sif and the key, right? Shouldn't we search it off the beaten path?”

“You have a point.”, Ornstein said and followed Tempest. “Even though I haven't been here back then, please let me go first.”

“Of course.”, Tempest stepped to the side and let Ornstein take the lead.

The path was narrow and just wide enough for Ornstein to barely fit there. Tempest felt a bit of nausea as he looked down, that would be a deadly fall for sure. Of course he would just come back, but the impact would still hurt. Dying from falling of great heights was one of the most awful ways to die. He practically could feel how every bone in his body shattered and his organs ruptured. Alone the thought made Tempest gag and he put a hand in front of his mouth. He might only be able to vomit up the little Estus he had, but nonetheless, it would be uncomfortable.

On their way around the building only one other bloathead waited which Ornstein disposed off quickly and then the path ended.

“Dead end.”, Ornstein said, but Tempest nudged on Ornstein's thumb and pointed down.

“We can fall down and investigate there.”, he said.

“We won't come back that easily anymore then.”, Ornstein said.

“Nonsense, Ornstein, you can just jump back up.”, Tempest said with a smile.

“True...”, Ornstein said and dropped down. Or more, Tempest dropped down, for Ornstein it was more like climbing down a layer.

They continued to round another building until some wooden planks leading into a building to the right came to view. Tempest opened his mouth to inform Ornstein about it, but the knight just kept walking. Confused, Tempest followed him.

“Where are you going?”, Tempest asked.

“I want to check if there is an entrance to the building we are currently orbiting.”, Ornstein said.

They soon had to stop, no entrance in sight, but an orange soap stone message. Tempest rolled his eyes as he said: “That is better not another one of these 'try jumping' messages.”

“You Undead surely have a sense of humour.”, Ornstein chuckled.

“What is funny about sending people to their death?”, Tempest yelled. “What is written on the message?”

“Let there be light...”, Ornstein said.

“Huh, never had one of these before.”, Tempest shrugged. “Must be some new code or something.” Tempest already had turned around and was about to leave, but got hindered by Ornstein applying a slight pressure on his shoulder.

“Little Storm, you still have the skull lantern, right?”, he asked.

“The one from the catacombs? Sure.”, Tempest said and searched in his bag until he found the desired item. “Aha, there it is! But why do you need it, Ornstein? It's bright enough.”

“Shine it on that wall.”, Ornstein prompted.

Tempest shrugged again, but stepped forward to shine the light on the wall, gasping as an entrance appeared. “Well, that's new!”

“I knew it.”, Ornstein said with a hint of triumph in his voice. “This kind of illusion could only be made by an Oolacile sorcerer or someone who knows how to wield their sorceries. They have quite a repertoire of spells like this.”

“That's all fine and good, Ornstein, but now I want to know just what was so important to have been hidden behind an illusionary wall that can only be broken by light.” Without awaiting Ornstein's answer, Tempest went into the room. He could only spot a single chest and gave it a careful nudge with his sword before opening it, finding only a small silver pendant inside of it.

“That's all?”, Tempest said. “Just a pendant? Hm, this shape looks familiar...”

“But...”, Ornstein said, voice quivering. “Why is it here?!”

“Ornstein, you know what that is?”, Tempest said, turning around to Ornstein, dangling the pendant in front of his face.

“That pendant... was given to Artorias.”, Ornstein said. “It has a special power. It can ward off the dark sorceries, the ones we have seen earlier. It is protection against the sorceries of the abyss. Why is it here? Artorias should have had it.”

“Maybe he lost it?”, Tempest suggested. “And one of the Oolacile sorcerers picked it up and hid it to sell later? You said the illusion was Oolacile magic, right?”

“I want to believe that, little Storm, I really want, but...”, Ornstein took a deep breath. “Artorias was able to use rudimentary Oolacile sorceries too. That illusion wasn't very complicated... but why... just why should Artorias leave the thing behind that should protect him? Unless...”

Tempest looked at Ornstein in anticipation. He was right, it didn't make sense. Also, even if Artorias had lost the pendant, would he have just given up the search for it?

“...unless he never intended to fight.”, Ornstein finished.

“But... why shouldn't Artorias want to fight?”, Tempest said, looking from the pendant to Ornstein. “He was tasked with slaying the beast of the abyss, wasn't he? And even if he didn't want to fight, bringing the pendant with him wouldn't have been a sign of ill will. It was for protection, not offense.”

“Yes... you are right, little Storm, this doesn't make any sense.”, Ornstein said, raising his left arm to rest a hand on his helmet only to carefully remove it and let it dangle loosely at his side again. “I am reading too much in this. It probably got stolen from him and he couldn't find it, then decided that he could take on the beast without help.”

“Shall we take it with us?”, Tempest asked.

“Yes, it will help against the dark sorceries. Hold it in both hands and concentrate on the magic within, then you can summon forth a barrier for one or two seconds, even if you haven't an affinity for the sorceries.”

“So, no key, but a pendant.”, Tempest said and hung the pendant onto his belt, next to his Estus flask. “Where to now?”

“There was an entrance earlier into another building.”, Ornstein said. “Let's go there.”

Tempest nodded and followed Ornstein, cursing as another dark ball almost hit the two of them. Or more, Ornstein dodged out of the way in the last second, dragging Tempest with him and then stabbing the bloathead sorcerer into one of its too many eyes. Ornstein then sunk down, breathing heavily.

“You alright, Ornstein?”, Tempest asked as he scurried back to his feet.

“I am... fine.”, Ornstein said. “Just need a moment. That hurt.”

Tempest nodded in understanding, that must have been quite a strain on Ornstein's injured arm. Tempest decided to scout out the area. He had hold onto the pendant just in case, but he was more than glad that he did, because a row of orbs was about to rain down on him. He had enough finesse to activate the pendant's powers which let a silver shiver appear around him and indeed cancel out all the dark magic.

“Amazing!”, Tempest said, backing away, staring at the pendant. Such a powerful tool and Artorias had either locked it away or lost it? It was hardly believable.

“What have you seen down there?”, Ornstein asked, standing up.

“Two more sorcerer.”, Tempest said. “Are you sure you can move on, Ornstein?”

“Yes.”, Ornstein said, stepping nearer to the stairs. “Little Storm, I could need your help... Go first and use the pendant to cancel out their attacks, so that I can use an opening to attack.”

“I will try my best.”, Tempest said and clutched the pendant, slowly moving forwards, trying not to think how much it would hurt when he messed up the timing.

To his surprise, everything went well. When exactly had he become competent? Though, Tempest didn't want to imagine how hard it would have been to traverse the township without Ornstein at his side. Then he probably would have died at least ten times already. He also would never had discovered the pendant. Tempest asked himself if it would have been possible to take on this duo of sorcerers without the pendant.

“Three chests are here.”, Ornstein said. “But only one of them is still closed.”

“Maybe it's a mimic?”, Tempest asked.

“No, not this one.”, Ornstein said. “Can you take a look inside, little Storm?”

“Sure...”, Tempest came closer and even though Ornstein had sounded sincere about it not being a mimic, he nudged it with his sword before opening the lid. He then produced a single scroll from the chest and unfolded.

“Woah.”, Tempest said.

“What is written on it?”, Ornstein asked.

“It's a sorcery. It is called Dark Orb and it looks like the thing that sorcerers have thrown at us. It is explained in full detail how to use it.”, Tempest shuddered. “Alone holding that scroll feels wrong.”

“Damn, so that is how the dark sorceries managed to escape into the world.”, Ornstein sighed.

“Ornstein, what is the dark sorcery?”, Tempest asked, sitting down next to the chest.

“It's the magic of the abyss.”, Ornstein said. “It's hard to put, but... little Storm, you know about the four souls, right?”

“Of course!”, Tempest said. “Everyone does! Life and death, light and dark!”

“The dark soul it is... the source of the abyss.”, Ornstein said. “You use humanity sprites to reverse your hollowing, little Storm. Now imagine what would happen when you would use ten of them at once.”

“Uh...”, Tempest said. “I don't think I would appear human anymore...”

“That is what happened to Oolacile.”, Ornstein sighed. “The abyss is the dark, but in such a potency that not even bearers of the dark soul are save against corruption. The monsters we have fought against... all of them were once citizens of this city.”

“I know.”, Tempest said in a whisper. “I already knew that they were hollow...”

“You are taking this surprisingly lightly.”, Ornstein said.

“All this stuff has already happened, right?”, Tempest said, standing up, pocketing the scroll. “There is no need to dwell in the past. I just hope that we learned from it.”

Ornstein whispered something that Tempest couldn't hear.

“What was that, Ornstein?”, he asked.

“Oh, uh, nothing.”, Ornstein said. “Little Storm, we haven't found anything important here. Let's head back.”

“Wait.”, Tempest said. “I want to take a look at this corpse!”

“Why?”, Ornstein said.

“I am interested if they have anything valuable with them.”, Tempest said. “Besides, who knows if one of them has the key we are searching for?”

“You have a point.”, Ornstein said and leaned against the wall as Tempest was checking out the pockets of the dead sorcerer and thoroughly investigated their catalyst.

“Look at their heads.”, Tempest said and put both hands around it, lifting it from the ground. “They are so swollen, it wouldn't surprise me when they have put stuff in their heads.”

“Now I doubt that, little Storm.”, Ornstein said.

“Haha, true, I was just kidding.”, Tempest said and wanted to let the head fall back onto the ground, but before he could open his hands, the body fell away on its own, leaving Tempest standing there with only the head.

“Oh, ew!”, he screeched and yanked the head on the ground.

“You wanted to take a look at them, little Storm.”, Ornstein said, completely unfazed.

“I didn't had a clue they would lose their heads.”, Tempest said and then curiosity hit and he went nearer to the severed head, expecting to see nothing but blood and gore inside, but to his surprise, the head indeed was hollow.

“Woah.”, Tempest said. “You could even stick your own head into there. Of course, I don't have a clue who ever would want to do that. You need to be a special kind of crazy to even consider that.”

“Let me guess, there are no keys in there.”, Ornstein said.

“No keys.”, Tempest confirmed. “Let's head back.”

As Ornstein already went up the stairs, Tempest saw an exit to the house he hadn't seen earlier. He stepped out only to see a jump that wasn't doable for him. For Ornstein it might have been possible, but in case he would fail, there was a really deep drop, so Tempest decided to save this place for later, should they even need to check it.

“Don't dawdle, little Storm.”, Ornstein said, waiting in the middle of the house, next to another exit.

“Huh, should we check that out?”, Tempest asked.

“It won't hurt.”, Ornstein said.

“Speaking of hurt, how is your arm?”, Tempest asked as the stepped out on another small ledge and started to surround the building.

“I'll live.”, Ornstein once again said.

“Alright, but tell me when it gets worse, yes?”, Tempest said, not expecting any reply and he also didn't get any. They reached the end of the narrow pathway in silence with a bloathead sorcerer turning their back to them. “Oh, perfect...”, Tempest whispered and drove his sword deep into its back, the sorcerer going out without ever knowing what hit it.

“See, if you aim for the vital points, it is so much more effective.”, Ornstein said.

“Well, that was easy.”, Tempest said. “That one wasn't moving.” His gaze then fell on something in the hand of the bloathead. He bend down and picked up a piece of wood, it looked like someone had processed it. “What's that?”, he said, staring into the patterns of the mask, yeah, it looked like a mask.

“Oh, one of Gough's carvings.”, Ornstein said. “I guess some of the citizens bought them from him. Hmm... what was it again? Throw it on the ground, then we know.”

“Why should I do that?”, Tempest asked but complied and threw the mask on the ground, flinching when a low but gentle voice called out “I'm sorry”.

“Ah, the one for apologies.”, Ornstein said, seemingly satisfied with himself. “Gough loved to occupy his hands with whittling, he would always pour a bit of himself in every piece.”

“But... how...”, Tempest said, trying to get back his composure. “It did talk, Ornstein.”, he said, giving the dragon slayer a side glance. He was talking about this mask as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“It's Gough's feeling that went into that mask.”, Ornstein said. “That is why we can hear his voice.”

Ornstein then averted his gaze and went back into the building without saying another word. Tempest only assumed that he dragon slayer had to face his feelings regarding Gough, another one of those that he lost and would be forced to see again, knowing that he couldn't change his inevitable fate.

“...Do you mind when I hold onto that?”, Tempest asked once he had hurried after Ornstein.

“No...”, Ornstein said. “I always wished I had taken some of them with me back then...”

Knowing that this conversation would only open up wounds, Tempest let the subject rest and followed Ornstein until they were back at the beginning. Ornstein kneeled down and let Tempest climb him to get back up, the small Undead paid extra attention to not jostle Ornstein's left arm, and then Ornstein jumped up himself.

After they were back at their original location, Tempest squinted at a chest at the end of some stairs, it was sitting in the middle of a round platform, wide open. Tempest immediately didn't trust this chest. At least there was only one bloathead on the stairs which Ornstein took care of without trouble, but then Tempest heard the sound of another Undead arriving.

“Wait.”, he said and then whispered. “I haven't touched a white soapstone sign...”

“Then it can only mean that we get attacked.”, Ornstein whispered back. Tempest turned around to look at the one who was so dumb to invade him while Ornstein protected him and gasped as he recognized the silhouette.

“Chester!”, he blurted out.

“Someone you know?”, Ornstein asked.

“He was hanging around the coliseum.”, Tempest said, ducking as Chester used a crossbow to fire three bolts in rapid succession. “He was kinda awkward to talk to, so I didn't do it much...”

Ornstein sighed and charged at Chester, his spear ready, but Chester simply lowered his crossbow and evaded the attack with ease, leaving Ornstein surprised. Seldom had he seen someone who could keep up with his speed. Tempest used the opportunity that Ornstein had given him and tried to cut down Chester with a two handed slash, but before he could even reach him, Tempest lost the ground under his feet and fell. Chester apparently had tripped him up.

“That guy is fast.”, Tempest said as he scrambled back on his legs, seeing how Ornstein avoided another flurry of bolts.

“Little Storm, let's try a pincer attack.”, Ornstein said. Tempest gave Ornstein a nod and made space between them, intending to attack Chester from the left while Ornstein was coming from the right. It was more than a surprise for the both of them when Chester jumped up and landed behind them, both of them struggling to stop their attacks to not accidentally hurt each other (or kill, Tempest doubted that he would have survived that blow of Ornstein's spear). As Tempest turned around, he saw that Chester had his crossbow loaded again, aimed at Ornstein who currently was standing there, holding his arm, having jostled it when he tried to not kill Tempest.

Tempest didn't think, he just ran and put himself between the bolts and Ornstein. Getting impaled by three of them hurt like hell, one landed in his shoulder, one in his upper arm and one in his chest, but gladly seemed to miss the most vital organs. Tempest still felt a cough coming and tasted blood, his lung was pierced for sure.

“Little Storm.”, Ornstein cried and then charged at Chester, driving his spear deep into his chest, red smoke billowing from him. Chester tried to fire his crossbow again, but Ornstein put his whole weight on Chester and stepped on him once he was down, pulling the weapon out of the phantom and slashing over his face. After that, the phantom vanished.

In the meantime, Tempest had found his Estus and after taking two sips of it, the bolts had fallen out of his body and the wounds were closed. Still, Tempest never wanted to have the experience of being impaled by three bolts ever again.

“We don't even have time for this.”, Ornstein grumbled. “Are you alright, little Storm?”

Tempest raised both his hands and gave Ornstein a thumbs up with a wide smile. “Yes, I am fine. Let's move on.”

“Why did you protect me, little Storm?”, Ornstein asked as they went down the stairs.

“Isn't that obvious, Ornstein?”, Tempest said, his eyes going wide. “I can't die.”

“But... every death is eating at your humanity.”, Ornstein said. “Aren't you afraid? What happens when one day you come back hollow...?”

Tempest couldn't help but smile at Ornstein. He was worried about him. The dragon slayer didn't admit it, but they had become friends. Tempest surely would have loved for it to be something more, but just knowing that he cared... that was enough. It should be enough. It had to be enough.

“I won't go hollow as long as you are with me, Ornstein.”, Tempest said. The dragon slayer fell quiet for quite some time before he suddenly spoke again.

“So, do you know why that... Chester was invading you? Did you say something to upset him?”

Tempest shrugged. “I don't know.”, he said. “Maybe he was pissed because I didn't buy much? His stuff was totally overpriced. I just didn't want to make him mad. Guess I did. Or he was bored. Or frustrated. He said that he also was coming from another time...”

“Huh, another one who got brought here...”, Ornstein said. “Anyway, he doesn't seem to be important. Back then, Ciaran and Gough told me that the Undead they encountered wasn't wearing a mask.” Ornstein glanced down at Tempest. “Because they probably spoke about you, that matches up.”

“It's so wild to think about that Ciaran and Gough have met me before I have met you, Ornstein.”, Tempest said. “Getting thrown back in time sure is weird.”

“At least you don't have to worry for anyone recognizing you.”, Ornstein sighed. They had arrived down at the platform and Tempest was heading over to the chest to give it a good hit. Of course it stood up and started to snicker.

“Oh, have you learned to spot mimics now?”, Ornstein said, coming nearer to help Tempest with the fight, who was currently dodging a flurry of kicks.

“Come on, Ornstein, that was obvious.”, Tempest said, cutting the mimic into the arm. “A chest in plain sight in the middle of a very alluring looking platform? That had to be a fake.”

“Very well observed.”, Ornstein cut one of the mimic's legs with his spear while Tempest was driving his sword deep into the mimic's tongue as it had tried to grab him. “This mimic surely chose a poor spot waiting for travellers.”

Once the mimic laid on the ground, it coughed up another mask. Without hesitating, Tempest threw the mask on the ground, to hear “very good” ringing out.

“Aw, thank you.”, he said and bowed. “Wait, why am I talking to a mask?!”, he yelled and picked it up. “These things are strangely endearing.”, he said as he glanced to Ornstein.

“I know. If you want more of them, Gough sells them.”

Tempest briefly asked himself, if Gough had a mask that would say “I love you”, but he probably wouldn't get it anyway. He knew that Ornstein wasn't liking him back in that way. Besides, they had other stuff to worry about. Getting back to their own time for example. And treating Ornstein's wound. His mental state probably also wasn't the best, but the dragon slayer was moving on as if he hadn't had to witness the death of his best friend by the hands of the one he had to protect. Tempest could only imagine what kind of whirlwind of emotions was brewing in Ornstein right now. By acting as the leader and captain of their venture, Ornstein probably tried to distract himself from everything.

The duo moved on and after a few more foes and one sorcerer who was mean enough to stand at the end of a narrow pathway and even had the guts to laugh when Tempest managed to get hit by their magic. One bloathead later, they stood in front of a rather large building.

“It seems like we are pretty deep now.”, Tempest said.

“Still no key in sight.”, Ornstein murmured. “Just where is it hidden?”

“Why are you so sure that it is here, Ornstein?”, Tempest asked.

“Gough said that the Oolacile citizens had locked that door. He simply was fine with it, because... you probably know that giants were mocked and feared because of their brutish behaviour... Gough was never one of them, but they still hurt him horribly. He told me that he cherished the solitude without the fear of being wronged again.”

“But we are going to open up that door.”, Tempest said.

“That is why I want to find the key. So we can lock it again when we leave.”

Tempest nodded and moved on, closely behind Ornstein, who peeked around the corner in the building. “That reeks like a trap.”, Ornstein whispered. “Let us enter it and be prepared for the worst.”

Tempest nodded and once they were in, they were attacked instantly by a bloathead. Tempest rushed forward to help Ornstein, who for a change, seemed to struggle, but had to turn around and engage in combat with another bloathead that dropped down from the upper level to not let Ornstein been caught in a pincer attack.

Once Tempest's foe was down, he looked at Ornstein, who held his left arm and panted.

“Does it hurt?”, Tempest asked, worry shining in his big, blue eyes.

“It's fine.”, Ornstein said. “Just accidentally tried to take my spear in both hands. I am fine.”

Are you?, Tempest asked himself, wandering around the building in search of more bloatheads, but he only found some rubbish.

“Where to now?”, Tempest asked. Ornstein had already moved to the left of the room, looking down some stairs.

“Well, that is the trap I was anticipating.”, Ornstein said and Tempest knew instantly what he meant. The room down there was full of bloatheads.

“I guess I use my bow...”, Tempest said. “I may not be able to take them out, but I can at least lure them out.”

“Good idea, but don't alert the sorcerers.”, Ornstein said. Tempest nodded and found a spot at the top of the stairs, couching there, fiddling with his arrows and then shooting two in quick succession, one of them hitting a bloathead in the arm and the other one missing, falling onto the ground with a clank.

“Now they definitely know we are there.”, Tempest said and hold his breath, anticipating if their plan worked or if they would get rained down by dark sorceries. They seemed to be in luck, because the two bloatheads started running up the stairs and apparently that they were gone, didn't seem to interest the others.

“Here they come.”, Tempest said after he released his breath and Ornstein waited on top of the stairs, shoving his spear through the heads of both bloatheads at once, blood and goo coming out of them.

“Disgusting.”, Ornstein said, working on removing his spear as Tempest felt the air flicker around him and didn't move out of the way fast enough, his left arm got a nasty dark burn once the sorcery had hit him.

“Ow.”, Tempest growled. “Why does this burn? It isn't even a pyromancy.”

“It seems like you alerted one of the sorcerers.”, Ornstein said, coming over and looking down next to Tempest, where indeed a sorcerer was laughing and preparing a new spell.

“Out of the way, little Storm!”, Ornstein yelled and yanked Tempest out of the danger zone, a dark fog which looked extremely uncomfortable.

“What is that?!”, Tempest said, eyes wide. He never had seen a sorcery like that before.

“Nothing good, that is for sure.”, Ornstein said and then barely avoided another dark orb that got shot at them from the right. “What the...”

“The other one noticed us!”, Tempest gasped and fumbled for his bow, ignoring the pain in his arm, he could heal it later. Loading an arrow into the bow and spraining it, aiming, Tempest murmured: “Please hit.” as he let go. The arrow turned out to be a bullseye, because the sorcerer fell down the beam they had been standing on. “Success!”, Tempest jumped up, but Ornstein was fixated on the stairs.

“Little Storm, the others have seen us. Quick, let's go down and take them out. Take care of the sorcerer that is trying to end us from behind the stairs.”

Tempest only nodded and followed Ornstein, arrow already in his bow, aiming and once they were down, Ornstein charged into the bloatheads that just wanted to come up the stairs and Tempest narrowly avoided another dark orb before planting an arrow directly into the chest of the sorcerer. Unfortunately it wasn't a deadly wound, so he dropped his bow in favour of his sword and went into close combat, getting another painful wound as he slashed the sorcerer into bits.

Once Tempest was done, he looked for Ornstein who was leaning against a pillar, two more bloatheads were laying dead a few feet away from him and his spear was coated with blood. Ornstein seemed to be short of breath, so Tempest went over and asked: “Ornstein, do you need a break?”

“No.”, Ornstein said without hesitating. “Let's move on.”

It wouldn't surprise Tempest when Ornstein would manage to get sick once they were done. He was already hurt, he was pushing himself too hard. However, Tempest knew two things. Once, Ornstein would keep to his duty and follow him to the world's end and second, Tempest would be unable to slay the beast of the Abyss on his own. Well, maybe after hundred deaths, but without Ornstein at his side hollowing would await him sooner or later...

Tempest didn't want to think about this and instead searched the room. He found several exits, one led up some stairs farther into the building and two let back outside, the township even more garbled and full of abyss sludge than before. He even found a sorcery scroll, which read Dark Fog and as Tempest read the description about the spell, he was more than glad that it hadn't hit him.

“So, there are several paths.”, Tempest said once he came back to Ornstein, who had straightened himself up. “I would advise to go into the door right to the stairs next. It seems to lead to the rest of the house.”

Ornstein nodded and started walking without saying another word. Tempest silently followed him. The both of them landed in some kind of attic and Tempest was a bit disappointed, because the path led outside again, but it turned out, that it was simply a balcony. A bloathead was hidden there which Ornstein for once didn't manage to kill in one hit, so Tempest ran over and finished the job.

“You are sure you don't need a break, Ornstein?”, Tempest tried once again, only for the stubborn dragon slayer to shake his head. Tempest sighed and leaned against he wall, spotting a treasure chest from the corner of his eyes. “Hey, Ornstein, there is another chest. Maybe this one finally has the key we search. But... I don't think we will get to it from here.”

“Think about this logically, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and his breath was definitely coming shorter. “There is another entrance a little up. From there, we should be able to reach the room.”

“Makes sense...”, Tempest said and just as Ornstein said, they could drop down easily from the room higher up. Tempest went to the chest straight away, but stopped in front of it, frowning.

“Just to be sure.”, he said and gave it a smack with his sword. How Ornstein actually could find out if a chest was a mimic or not by sight alone, he didn't knew, but he was glad that he tested it, because the chest actually turned out to be a mimic!

“Oh, that just had to be true.”, Tempest sighed and prepared himself to fight he chest, getting kicked directly into the face once and one time almost eaten, he only managed to prevent this fate by slashing the tongue of the mimic, which made it howl in pain and splattered hot blood down on Tempest. Only when he had worn the mimic down by cutting at its legs constantly and the moment that Ornstein's spear came out between its teeth, did Tempest notice, that he mostly had fought on his own.

The mimic dropped down and coughed out... a key!

“Ornstein, is that it?!”, Tempest held the key up, eyes glowing in excitement. He would be able to meet Gough. ...He also would be forced to kill a dragon though, so Tempest's excitement went a bit away.

“Yes, that is the key.”, Ornstein said. “Who would have thought a mimic had stolen it?! And so far in. Let's head back.”

The duo went back to the big room which was still littered with bloathead corpses. Ornstein was heading to the stairs, but Tempest nudged him and pointed to the exit.

“...I have scouted this area earlier and there was a shortcut.”, he murmured.

“Oh, of course, I completely forgot about this.”, Ornstein said, a hand at his forehead which he quickly lowered down again, because it was his injured arm.

A few minutes later they both stood in front of the door to Gough's tower, Tempest looking at the key in his hands. “So, I go up there, introduce myself and ask him if he shoots the dragon for me?”, he asked.

“Yes, pretty much.”, Ornstein said. “As with Ciaran, I will stay out of side. They can't know that I am here. Don't mention me.”

Tempest nodded and the key creaked in the lock. He took a deep breath and strode through it, bracing himself to meet even the last knight of Gwyn. (Author's note: I hope you are all ready for Gough and Kalameet in the next chapter! Please write me your thoughts about this chapter into the comments.) Chapter 29

[stahlop]

Not all Treasure is Silver and Gold (sometimes it’s chocolate)

Summary: Killian takes his children on a trick or treat treasure hunt to learn about the town’s history and reflects on his own in the process.

Here is my CS Role Reversal collaboration. Thank you @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ for the artwork! It is amazing and inspired the fluffiest story I think you’ll ever read.

A big shout out to @profdanglaisstuff​ for being my beta.

This is probably the fluffiest, sweetest thing I've ever written in my life. Enjoy!

Rated G

A03 link

They turned on to Main Street, the witch and two pirates, carrying with them some of the loot they had already discovered. The witch, though small, was the de facto leader of the group, instructing the small band of characters where to go with the map in her hand.

“The last clue said that we would find the fruit of the Evil Queen where the werewolves lie. That’s at Granny’s and we’re looking for apples,” the witch said matter of factly, as if that were the most straightforward answer. The smaller of the two pirates looked a little wary.

“You don’t agree with the lass?” the larger of the pirates asked. “Do you have a different idea?” He prodded the other pirate. The small pirate looked pensive, as if he had a question he wanted to ask but wasn’t sure how to with his limited vocabulary. The witch put her hands on her hips in a perfect imitation of her mother, not liking that they had to wait when she clearly knew she was correct.

“Daddy?” The small pirate finally asked in a small voice, his green eyes opened unnaturally wide. “The apples won’t put us to sleep will they?” Killian Jones gulped. Oops.

“Of course not, DL. It’s just a game!” Hope Jones, 7-years-old and knower of everything there was to know (obviously), huffed at her little brother. Killian tried not to laugh for DL’s sake. Dylan Liam Jones was only three and couldn’t always distinguish between fiction and reality, or in this case, the past and the present.

Killian got down on one knee to talk with his son, not a small feat as he was in his full pirate regalia, something he only brought out for Halloween nowadays. And they were in the middle of Main Street with swarms of other trick or treaters around them. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right DL? The clues are both to help you understand our history and to get candies, sweets, and treasure!” He said reassuringly. The boy nodded, his pirate hat a little too big for his head and falling forward on each nod. Snow had tried to make the costume as close to Killian’s pirate ensemble as she could, but the hat they’d had to buy from a costume shop in town (even after all these years, Emma didn’t quite trust Jefferson to help her out, even though he’d apologized profusely to her once the curse had been lifted and he was reunited with his daughter). Even though Killian didn’t wear a pirate hat, DL had seen Peter Pan quite a few times and wanted a hat similar to that of Captain Hook. Killian had been horrified.

“Can we go now?” Hope said in an annoyed tone. She was impatient when it came to DL and also had the attitude of a teenager, or so Emma had told Killian.

“Are we ready, lad?” Killian asked DL. The little boy nodded. Killian took his hand.

“Finally!” Hope exclaimed starting to run ahead.

“Hope Alice Jones,” Killian said firmly. Hope stopped in her tracks. She knew she wasn’t supposed to run ahead. She turned around and headed back to her father and brother. “Good lass. Now, we have a whole row of houses to procure candy from before we get to Granny’s. Are we ready?” Killian asked.

“We’re ready!” the Jones children shouted.

“Onward then!”

Granny’s boasted all sorts of candied apples. Regular candied, caramel, some with nuts and some with sprinkles, whatever the kind the children were in heaven. Granny was nice enough to cut them into slices to make them easier for the children to eat.

“Might I bother you for a bit of pumpkin pie?” Killian asked Granny as she brought the sugary treats to their booth. Granny nodded and gave him a smile. She still had a soft spot for the pirate and denied him nothing. Even when there were children swarming all around.

The apples came with their next clue. Killian had to hand it to the Storybrooke Town Council, they knew how to get the town involved. The Storybrooke Historical Scavenger/Treasure Hunt had become a town staple over the past five years. It was a fun, yet educational, way to introduce the children to the town’s fairytale past while getting treats and sweets at the same time.

Killian took the card they had been given and read the next clue. “Fill me up with candy and I might explode when you say boo! But don’t feed any chocolate to the cats and dogs that might be around you.” Killian paused and looked at the kids. They looked at him expectantly, caramel and sprinkles clinging to their faces. “Any ideas?” He asked them.

DL scrunched his face up and thought over the clue. “Fill me up with candy and...what was the next part daddy?” he asked. Hope huffed again, annoyed that her little brother couldn’t remember something so simple.

“I might explode when you say boo. It’s a ghost pinata!” She exclaimed. “Like the unicorn one I had at my last birthday party. Remember, we hit it with a stick until candy came out?” Her tone of voice had changed midway through to excited. “But where is the pinata, daddy?” Hope asked.

Killian reread the last part of the clue again. “But don’t feed any chocolate to the cats and dogs that might be around you. Know of any place that might have cats and dogs, little loves?” Hope and DL put their heads together and discussed where they thought it might be.

“The Storybrooke Animal Shelter!” they proclaimed.

After cleaning up their sticky hands and faces, they trick or treated their way over to the animal shelter. Sure enough there were several ghost pinatas waiting for children to come and take a whack at them. The shelter was now owned by Ruby and her girlfriend, Dorothy, who were also running the pinata stations and telling their stories. Ruby talking about how she discovered she was a werewolf and Dorothy telling about her adventures in Oz, both dressed up in Red Riding Hood and Dorothy costumes, respectively. The two also had cats and dogs up for adoption.

Hope and DL delighted in hitting the ghost pinata along with several other children until it finally broke. They gathered up many different types of candy into their pumpkin baskets.

“Can we get a cat? Please, please, please?” both kids whined. Killian and Emma had discussed it this year. Hope had been asking for a cat for the past few years, and of course, since big sis wanted a cat, DL did too.

“I think your mum and I have decided we can get one this year. Why don’t you two pick one out and we’ll pick it up in a few days after it’s had all its shots and everything,” he said, smiling. Killian had never seen bigger grins on his kids’ faces.

The children came out a little while later having picked out the most ‘perfect cat’ in the entire world. Ruby told him to come by the next day to fill out the paperwork and once the cat was fixed, she would be all theirs.

“There is one final clue,” Dorothy said, handing Killian a card. They all thanked Ruby and Dorothy and walked over to a nearby bench to look at the clue.

“When the Savior came and broke the curse, time started to move and things got worse.

But the curse was broken with True Love’s Kiss, come read about these tales if there were any you missed.” Killian paused for effect looking at his two children to see if they understood the clue. He could see Hope recognized where they needed to go in an instant, but DL wasn’t quite sure.

“Good Witch Hope, do you know where we need to go?” Killian asked, so the pressure would be off DL.

Hope gave a sly smile that matched her father’s. She might be the spitting image of her mother, but she had his eyes and his smile. “It’s the library!” she announced.

DL’s eyes lit up wide. “We go to see Auntie Belle?” he asked hopefully. For only being three, DL already had his first crush on Belle the librarian.

“Yes, DL, we go see Auntie Belle. Lead us onward fair witch!” Killian cried.

The trio passed by a few shops that had workers passing candy out front that Hope and DL got to add to their loot. The kids were getting excited the closer they got to the library, DL going on and on about Auntie Belle and Hope running through what the final prize or candy would be once they reached their intended destination.

“I just hope it’s actual candy and not a book. Not that I don’t love reading, Father, but books just aren’t appropriate for Halloween,” Hope said knowingly. She had also inherited his language skills and had recently taken to calling him Father because it sounded more ‘grown up’.

“I’m sure Aunt Belle will have sweets for all of you,” Killian said rolling his eyes and smiling at his precocious daughter.

Belle had completely outdone herself when it came to the library and clocktower. For a place that had once held torturous memories for Killian (fighting an undead Maleficent in the caves, Rumplestiltskin literally holding his heart and almost killing him, leaving Emma in the elevator in the Underbrooke version), it was now a magical place. Happy Halloween banners were posted at the front entrance and on several walls inside, plastic skeletons were hanging everywhere, fall leaf garlands decorated every shelved surface available, and scarecrows that jumped out at you guarded each doorway. In the center of the library was a large craft table that had hundreds of mini pumpkins on it. Next to them were small cups of paint for the children to paint them. Another table in the room next door had a pumpkin carving station for the adults. Belle was in the reading nook where she usually did storytime for the town’s children, wearing a gold dress, reminiscent of this world’s version of Belle (although she told Killian once that she had a dress very similar to that back in the Enchanted Forest, so maybe Disney wasn’t completely off on all their stories), and telling her own tale of Beauty and the Beast.

Belle and Rumplestiltskin’s son, Gideon, and Snow and David’s son, Neal, were running the children’s mini pumpkin area. Killian thought that was pretty much the blind leading the blind (as they were 10 and 13 respectively), but the other kids seemed to be having a good time. A sign at the circulation desk let them know that to get their final treat for the night they needed to paint a pumpkin and have it examined by the official Pumpkin Inspectors, which also seemed to be Gideon and Neal.

“Ready to paint some pumpkins?” Killian said to both his children. Hope didn’t even answer, just ran off to the station delighted at getting to paint. DL nodded his head and took Killian’s hook (something he liked to do when he wanted to feel calm) and led him over to the station. As much as Killian would like to do the pumpkin carving (he’d won that contest the past two years in a row), he knew DL would get overwhelmed easily with too many paint options. Emma often worried that he was overly sensitive about things, but Killian was sure he’d eventually grow out of it. The town did tend to go overboard with everything and it was a lot to handle for most adults, let alone a 3-year-old.

Hope had already grabbed an apron so she wouldn’t stain her costume and started painting her pumpkin an array of colors. Killian had DL pick out three colors (one for each year he was) that he would use and got him into an apron as well.

When they all finished (Hope having painted a unicorn with the stem as a horn, and DL having made a bunch of purple, green, and black splotches all over his pumpkin), Gideon and Neal, the Pumpkin Inspectors, came over and declared them wonderful pumpkins. All pumpkins would be displayed throughout the library for the rest of fall. They headed over to Belle to hear her story and get their final prize.

Killian had to admit, listening to Belle’s retelling of her love story with Rumplestiltskin made it sound like an epic adventure and not the abusive tale that it had been throughout much of their time in Storybrooke. Even 10 years later, Rumplestiltskin and Killian avoided each other whenever possible, even if Rumplestiltskin was considered a more upstanding member of the town now.

“And now,” Belle drawled with a big smile on her face,” your final treat of the night!” The children started to clap and cheer. She then put her finger to her lips and the children immediately went quiet. Everyone knew to listen to Librarian Belle. “There are actually two treats tonight.” The children waited with bated breath. “You will get to pick out your own Halloween or fall themed book,” she paused before the big reveal, Killian already noticing the look of disappointment on Hope’s face, “And you will also get a scoop of loot from our treasure chest!” Belle moved the pillow off the large box she’d been sitting on to reveal a very large pirate’s chest. She opened it to show it filled with (chocolate) gold coins and candy jewelry. A large cheer went up from the children as they got up and filed into a line to get their treasure, Belle giving them each a large scoop as they walked past. Killian noticed that the scoop pretty much filled up the rest of their trick or treat bags. Then they got to choose a book from the table set up near the back exit.

The small witch and two pirates made their way back to their beautiful seaside home. The denizens of their town were dwindling in number at the (somewhat) late hour of 8:15 (late for most of the trick or treaters anyway). The witch was content to read her book under the street lamps while sucking on a Ring Pop liberated from her loot. The smaller pirate was passed out on the larger pirate’s shoulder, as he’d barely made it out of the library with his eyes open. On the front porch, a beautiful blonde was handing out candy to the last few stragglers. She wore a black dress decorated with pumpkins and a black cat mask.  As the last trick or treaters left the porch, she gingerly collapsed into her rocking chair.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Hope yelled excitedly as she ran up the porch steps. She was not too grown up to continue calling Emma Mommy. “Look at everything we got!” She ran up to Emma and showed her all the spoils from the night. Emma smiled and removed the mask from her face.

“It looks like the town will be having a candy shortage in the coming weeks,” she said, laughing a bit. Then she put on a serious tone. “Are you prepared to pay the candy tax?” She held her hand out for payment. Hope looked up at Killian and he nodded that, yes, she needed to give her mother some of her candy. Hope reluctantly gave her two chocolate coins and skipped into the house.

“I see this one barely made it home?” Emma said, softly patting DL’s arm that was hanging down near her.

“Aye, Swan, passed out right as we were leaving the library.” He shifted DL slightly. “Let me get him into his night clothes and then I’ll come out with you.” Emma nodded in agreement.

It took Killian a little longer than he anticipated to get DL out of his costume. He eventually just kept him in his muslin shirt and forwent trying to wrestle pajama pants onto him, letting him sleep in his underwear. He folded the parts of his costume he was able to get off and placed them on his dresser. He then gave him a kiss before turning on the nightlight DL needed to sleep, and closed the door.

Killian checked in on Hope who had already changed out of her witch costume and put on a nightgown. She was still reading the book she’d received from Belle.

“Did you brush your teeth, little love?” he asked. She gave her patented Emma eye roll.

“Yes, Father,” she said not even looking up from her book. Emma said they were going to hate the teenage years if she was already this dramatic. Killian walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, there is still school tomorrow,” he told her. She grunted an acknowledgment as he left.

He walked outside and joined Emma on the other rocking chair that was out on the porch. Yes, they were a two-rocking-chair-on-the-porch-type people now. Emma had already eaten her candy tax and was now working on one of the fun size bags of Peanut M&M’s that she had been passing out to trick or treaters.

“And how many of those did you eat tonight, Swan?” he asked, snagging a bag for himself from the bowl next to Emma’s rocking chair.

She blushed a little at his question. “There’s peanuts in it. That counts as protein, right?” she asked.

“Ah, is that the excuse you’re using then. Peanuts for the peanut, aye?” He reached over and rubbed her swollen belly. “We missed you tonight,” he said, reaching over to grab her hand and kiss her knuckles.

“Yeah, well, being on modified bed rest for this little one takes priority, I guess.” She took back her hand and put both of them on her belly. “At least it’s only two more months until this little peanut graces us with their presence.”

Killian reached his hand back out for hers, admiring the wedding band that graced his ring finger and the engagement ring and wedding band that adorned hers. It was amazing to think that it had been nine years since that whole ordeal, and here they were, about to welcome their fourth child (and the fact that Henry was married and expecting a babe of his own was a lot scarier to Killian than adding another to their brood). Killian just thanked his lucky stars that life had consented to let this old pirate settle down and be blessed with the greatest treasure one could ever find.

“Let’s go to bed, love,” he said, standing and pulling her up with him. Emma smiled and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Please leave comments and reblog! Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in future stories

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615​ @csrolereversal​ @cshalloweek​

[theangrypokemaniac]

Since no one cares about Alola I can therefore say what I want.

Team Rocket's Pokémon are all worthless toss. That's such a surprise from this oafish writing team.

Remember when Jessie and James had two each, to offer variety? Permitting them even that is too much focus nowadays.

We don't what anything interesting going on, thank you. Repetition is what we and they deserve.

Arbok, Weezing, Lickitung and Victreebel are spinning in their graves.

Stufful was missing for three years and she displayed not the slightest pang of concern until its belated invention. Given her temper she ought to have torn the island apart searching for her baby, but no.

Not bothered about Bewear. It shouldn't really be in this list as it didn't belong to them, although catching has no value anymore.

A bit thick are we? Or conforming to the usual parental standards?

Well, she's sufficiently neglectful that she let it out of her sight long enough for it to be crushed under a tree, then was too idle to come to the rescue. In consequence he was obliged to wait days until one of Lusamine's lackeys arrived.

She's 'Mama Bear' though, isn't she?

It's based on a red panda, is partly the colour of a black bear and as strong as a grizzly, but all that is a mere cover for its true nature as a Bear-Face Ham.

The modern pretence is that everyone's a vegetarian (are they balls), and Ursa Major lives on fruit, not, you know, flesh.

Just because it there's no hibernating in the tropics doesn't mean it can get by without a salmon now and again.

The name is stupid, since a red panda is not a bear. A play on words isn't clever if based on what it isn't.

They should've called her 'Pandamonia', or 'Pandour', which is a brutal soldier.

It is at least redeemed by battering the klepto cockroach into the next dimension. Good on 'er.

Mind you, this is Alola, a cesspit of incest, so it's probably some sick arrangement, like Bewear being slipped the length by that previously unmentioned Oakie-Dokie clone.

He's the spit of Jimmy Savile, thus every depravity is on the table.

Where's Stufful's dad? He buggered off too?

What kind of name is 'Stufful'? What's it made from, 'stifle' and 'suffocation'? 'Stuffed'?

Thanks for that. Whenever I see its ovine face I'm reminded of taxidermy.

Were Ursa Minor and Bewear described as mother and son, or were they 'friends'?

A series of games involving breeding and the 'anime' is too squeamish to even imply animals live in families.

I don't care either way for Stufful, but I'd like it better if its mouth wasn't a camel toe.

I understand it's a sea creature, and the contents of the oceans are their own brand of peculiarity, but looks like a limbless, undead spaniel plagued with extra teats. Its 'ears' resemble distended mammeries.

Hey, remember that interesting, original Pokémon James had called Victreebel? Let's do it again! And again! AND AGAIN!

Victreebel is a venus fly trap: an anomaly in nature as a carnivorous plant. It makes sense that the Pokémon version would be a bit more full-on in catching a meal.

New law: Team Rocket are required to collect monsters as ugly as themselves.

Hurting James was its personality quirk, particularly to it, fitting its nature, its 'thing'. It was never meant as a template for most of what he caught in the future.

Something is funny if it happens once, and can be now and again if done with a least a little flair.

Nothing repeated as a constant leaden thud is remotely amusing, but this is an unknown fact to Nintendo bone heads. They think certain events are utterly hilarious in themselves and require no finesse in application.

They have a checklist of moments obligatory to each episode, which explains the plodding lifelessness. Tick 'em off to keep the fans from being ticked off. All we supposedly care about is each gong struck, not how we got there.

At least Victreebel used to vary its behaviour:

Occasionally it even did as told without any chomping preamble.

It didn't do the exact same action every single time it was involved!

Mostly it swallowed James.

How long was it once Victreebel was chucked out on its leafy arse before Cacnea arrived?

Oh look, it's a Grass Pokémon and attacks James!

Sometimes it ate Jessie.

Carnivine got in on the action before Cacnea's run was even up: kick 'em when they're down why don't yer?

Oh look, it's a Grass Pokémon and attacks James!

Now we have Mareanie. Wasn't there a few in between? No, shush, they don't exist anymore.

Every bloody time it came out, it turned round and punctured him.

Every bloody time.

Ah, it's not a Grass Pokémon. That makes it totally new!

Oh yes, it's the complete opposite of Victreebel. It's Poison instead. Not like it at all.

Every bloody time it came out, it'd gnaw his head off.

Every bloody time.

That's endearing.

Oh but it is! It's just showing him love!

As that makes it alright!

If a muscular man squeezed his girlfriend so tightly he cracked her ribs, is that 'sweet' because he 'meant well' but his feelings overwhelmed him? Or is it A.B.H.?

Every bloody time it comes out, it injects James's head with toxin until it swells up into purple pustule of disease.

Every bloody time.

I never took Victreebel's assault as affection. To me they were real attempts to devour James, especially with the accompanying frenzied screech. Interpreting that as a positive emotion is bizarre to me.

At soon as James found it wedged in a Breeding Centre cage and opened the door it grabbed him, which appeared to be Victreebel lashing out in anger for what'd happened in the intervening period.

What Mareanie does is worse than the other three put together. At least they delivered mere bite marks or pinpricks, but it infects James!

Whole episodes of this programme have involved a Pokémon falling foul of Poison Powder and being on the verge of death, with all done to preserve it until Ash hunted down the cure, but now it's a big laugh, apparently.

Not one character ever has the wits about them to carry an Antidote, otherwise the writers wouldn't be able to fall back on the tired old race-against-time scenario, which is no such thing as we know they won't die.

Is it likely that James is always going to end up picking a violent Pokémon, of all the individuals of a race, of all the lifeforms in the universe?

Aren't his allowed to come with their own personality, or is there a set pattern they must follow, and when caught they absorb it, for fear they might be memorable?

Mind you, it's interesting the reactions these abuses provoke:

Victreebel eats James: Aw, it's so kyewt!

Cacnea impales James: Aw, it's so kyewt!

Carnivine chews James: Aw, it's so kyewt!

Mareanie poisons James: Aw, it's so kyewt!

Meowth claws James: Aw, it's so kyewt!

Jessie beats James: Aw, it's so kyewt!

Jessibelle whips James: EEVUL BITCH!!!

Mimikyu should be opposed for breaking it's own world.

To us, Pikachu is the most famous Pokémon, belonging to Ash, the protagonist, and the franchise's mascot.

To them, Pikachu is just another middling Pokémon hundreds of young Trainers catch, and holds no greater value.

It's blatantly a reference to Pikachu's real-life status, acknowledging itself as fiction. No Pokémon would hold the same significance for this design to work but him.

Otherwise why would Mimikyu, when it has the choice of every Pokémon that exists, and, if meant to be a believable world, every Pokémon we don't know exists, choose Pikachu to ape? Why wouldn't it pick a Legendary?

Alola Pikachu is looking off colour.

It's not even this specific Mimikyu, it's the entire species!

What, they work to a hive mind, incapable of individual tastes and opinions?

Do they all hate Pikachu too, even though the entire mouse population of Alola has been rounded up by that loon and trapped in a valley, or were we lumbered with the lone demented obsessive with a severe complex?

Is it well jel that Pikachu's a real one, whereas it can only manage to knock up a bog-standard costume with a face daubed by a chimp paralytic from scrumpy?

Well stop imitating it then! Invent your own design!

Oh come on. The animators can't even do that, hence its creation. You can hardly expect it to display inspiration if born from its absence.

I wonder if it hates Raichu. And Pichu. And Plusle and Minun. And the rest of the Pikachu derivatives, although it is one.

(As an aside, I don't know why Raichu, Marowak and Exeggutor were redrawn for this era, but not Pikachu, Cubone and Exeggcute. Why does the sweaty climate affect only evolutions?) 

Here's an idea: make Shiny Mimikyu have a different get up, not colour.

You can have that free, Game Freak. I'm too lenient with yer.

Presumably, Mimikyu hatches (already dead?) in all its eye-bleeding nastiness, and instinctively reaches for the discarded yellow bedsheet and pack of crayons that just so happens to be nearby, and the scissors to make the peep holes.

Them inbreds know how to litter.

Flippers?

Nah, it's probably hooks.

How is it born aware of a Pikachu's face, and why is it compelled to copy them?

Knowledge of his own ugliness is innate, thus he must cover his nakedness before it lays waste to the forest inhabitants.

Yet if you breed 'em, it emerges wearing it, like the cloth formed from left-over albumen and stained with yolk!

What's it reaching with? Paws?

Mittens?

Oh, and there was a deceased specimen in the series, so it's either a ghost, and nothing but bedsheet, or a zombie, and it's repulsive carcass has upped the ante by putrifying.

Even its name doesn't fit. Apart from the unsightly spelling, what's 'Mimikyu' about? It's not mimicking me.

Mimikyu? It should be Mimikchu!

And you know what? Even Nintendo agree their own inventions aren't good enough, because they made return almost impossible.

They hate these more than they do even the pre-Unova Pokémon, most of whom were condemned to a dark existence within the iron corridors of H.Q. and haven't been seen since.

• Growlie is such a beloved figure in James's life he's been involved all of twice.

• Dustox got pensioned off.

• James was practically bullied into gifting Cacnea to that cloying bitch Gardenia.

• Whilst he still tecnically owns Chimecho, it's as lost to him as any of them.

Remember Seviper, Yanmega, Carnivine and Mime Junior?

Hell, remember Woobat, Yamask, Frillish and Amoonguss?

Or Gourgeist and Inkay?

Of course, since the makers appear to have the Reverse-Midas Touch, Team Rocket still took that useless, wincing lump Wobbuffet to Galar instead of dumping it over the sea. Apparently we're stuck with it forever.

Arbok, Lickitung, Weezing and Victreebel got shafted, but THAT survives?

Yes? That's more the writers do. In current canon these Pokémon never lived at all. Dead memories in the haze.

[artoriyasart]

Adventure In Stormheim Part Three: Dark Rangers and Nathanos

**Sylvanas story set during legion, I do not own this character but I do own the OC. This might be part of a series of adventures when Sylvanas is off on her own either heading to or coming from missions. Possible AU.**

Summary: Sylvanas has her little companion sticking near to a forsaken base if anything to keep an eye on her. Her mission continues ofcourse which takes her to the vault of Eyir. Sylvanas has also given orders to keep the little ranger distracted til she returns which in turn causes a bit of a mishap on the part of Nathanos.

“Steady, keep your back straight.... elbow up... well, now focus on the target ahead and fire.” Sylvanas instructs and watches as the girl fires an arrow, this time it hits the target. She observes the stance the girl maintains as she nocks another arrow and waits a moment before firing. “You see how much better that is?”

The girl nods, “yes, thank you for taking the time I know you said you have something to do with that glowy cage.” 

“Soul cage, little ranger. I have an important mission, but I can spare a few minutes to instruct you,” Sylvanas corrected her companion and then looked at three figures advancing toward the small alcove. They better have good news. The dark lady thought to herself, frowning, she then looked at the girl, “Lady Windrunner, keep practicing I will return.”

Before the girl could say anything more the ranger lady had left, she watched for a few minutes than contented herself to shoot more arrows. She was sort of liking this, having a friend? Does she count as one? Should I consider her one? Ranger Ravensun has not chased me off yet like so many others have. Ok....back straight...elbow up...fire! She repeats this in her head for the next few shots, some of which miss the target, some do not. “Getting better Ranger-General!” she tells herself and smiles for once. 

Sylvanas closed her eyes in silent rage at Ranger Captain Areiele’s report, “It matters not I found some way of getting through to the vault. Keep an eye on things till I get back, if you see a little girl she is not to be harmed.”

Areiele nodded, she had noticed the small child accompanying Sylvanas earlier and said nothing about it. “I will keep an eye on her.”

“Good, now I must go before the opportunity passes me by.” Sylvanas said before leaving silently for Skold-Ashil. 

The three rangers departed soon after and spotted the girl firing her arrows, one of them moved to approach but saw Nathanos approach first. 

“Perhaps we watch at a distance sister?” Anya wondered aloud.

“For now, yes, I say we check the ridges and cliff sides for any worgen or other spies.” The Ranger Captain instructed. The other two nodded and were on their way, Areiele glanced one more time in the girl’s direction before heading off to patrol the perimeter of the forsaken base camp.

Nathanos Blightcaller had been told about the girl earlier and chose to approach, if anything, it would distract her from getting into trouble. Last thing Sylvanas needs... he thought and stood behind the girl as she retrieved her arrows. He made his presence known with a small clearing of his throat, “Little Ranger,” he used the little nickname Sylvanas had given her rather than use the name the girl used.

“Oh, who are you?” The girl asked, turning to face the source of the voice. She looked at the tall human with red eyes, brown hair, and a beard staring back at her with his arms folded. 

“Nathanos Blightcaller, Champion to...your ranger friend that brought you here,” he started remembering his queen’s words; she does not know me. “I see you have been practicing?”

“I have, you are a dark ranger? I have been hearing about them a lot,” the girl asked, hoping her deductions were correct.

“You could say that, nice to meet someone with a brain in that head of yours. Try dealing with tiresome adventurers all day.” He said dryly with an unchanged expression. 

“I do have a brain yes, I can see that you possess one as well,” she answered back with equal sarcasm.

“I think we will get along nicely, barring you do not cause any trouble.” Nathanos said in part amusement and part authoritatively. 

“I will do my very best,” the girl said with a mischievous grin.

Nathanos snorted, the girl had spirit as Sylvanas had mentioned. He chose to stay with the girl for now, his curiosity seemed to grow with every minute, he was wondering what Sylvanas and a few dark rangers wondered: how did this girl get to the broken isles? He also wondered just how much she had been told of her homeland. “Stop.” He commanded, 

The girl looked back at Nathanos expectantly, she was holding her bow at her side with one hand and an arrow in the other. “Do I need to fix anything?” she asked.

“No, it's not that, put your bow down and sit, I have some questions.” He motioned to a spot in front of him for her to sit down and waited when she did as he said he thought for a moment, I know she won’t answer one of the questions so I will stick with the others I have. 

What could he want to ask? She wondered, sitting down across from him with her bow still at her side. 

Nathanos furrowed his brows in a manner that suggested he was thinking about what he wanted to ask, his red eyes met her blue ones when he finally spoke, “Have you been told of what happened to your homeland? Quel’Thalas?”

“A little, only that it was attacked by a human Prince named Arthas Menethil and that Ranger General Sylvanas Windrunner gave her life defending her people, well they are mine too I guess, I know not much else.” The girl stated, her gaze never left his but there was a longing in them, a longing for answers or further explanation.

Nathanos nodded, “So you do not know the full story, then,” he sighed in slight annoyance. “Well, you only got snippets then, could you handle it if I told you what I know? Might also shed some light on your ranger friend.”

“I can handle it, I am nearly thirteen,” she said a little indignant.

“Your age is not my concern, girl, your maturity is.” He answered back with similar indignation.

“Fine, yes, I can handle it with maturity,” she said, trying to hide the tone of annoyance. 

“Good, then I shall tell you. I do warn you I was not there so my account is only second hand, the dark rangers you see around here might be willing to tell you more if you so desire.” Nathanos told her honestly, he did not believe in sugar coating a story just because the listener was a child. In his mind, she was old enough to use a bow and learn how to survive on her own, she could handle knowing what happened to her people. 

Two red eyebrows raised in expectation of his words, she sat quietly and awaited more information on what had happened. 

Nathanos cleared his throat and looked at his now captive audience, “What you know is very little I hope to expand on that pathetic explanation you were given. What I know is that the human Prince of Lordaeron; Arthas Menethil did indeed invade your lands. First, he took up a cursed blade known as Frostmourne then killed his own father and his people. Him and his scourge army then set their sights on Quel’Thalas...I have been told he was after the Sunwell, something of which you can ask another ranger or your friend about. The magical elf gates would have protected your lands had you not had a traitor among your people, so despite Sylvanas’s efforts Arthas broke through. The Ranger General fought her hardest to push his army back, but to no avail, he broke through the second gate too.” He paused to watch for her reaction, a smirk played on his features at the rapt attention he now had.

“Her last stand did end in her death, but...she had been quite irksome as I have been told. Arthas did not let her have a clean death, instead he turned her into a banshee and forced her to fight by his side against her own people. He did this to many of her rangers and butchered his way through at an easier pace now that the Ranger General was no longer an issue. He eventually made his way to the Sunwell and raised a Lich named Kel’Thuzad and killed the King at the time Anastarian Sunstrider. That is all I know, the rest will have to be told by others. Any questions?” He asked casually.

She is a banshee now? The girl thought, this was a shock to her system as her previous caretakers had never told her this. “Is my home still destroyed? I know some survived.” she said, still trying to comprehend what he had just told her, “Is Sylvanas still?” she didn’t know what to say next.

“Part of Quel’Thalas is now called the Ghostlands, an area that shows the most damage by Arthas and his undead scourge. The rest is still recovering, but still vibrant as it was, the Sunwell is restored and there is rebuilding. As for Sylvanas, she is undead and the woman who found you.” He explained, he wanted to set the record straight, she needs to know sometime. Looking up to her was fine in his eyes, who better to look up to for her skills as a ranger and leader. You should aspire to be like her, but as yourself, he almost wanted to say but didn’t. 

“Wait...so, she's Sylvanas Windrunner? This whole time?” she was shocked at this, I have been telling her I am her in our game...

“Yes, no doubt you would have found out at some point. I decided to tell you now, mostly for practicality’s sake and being uninformed will not do.” Nathanos said plainly as if he was telling her the sky was in fact blue. 

“I-I need to think,” she said, looking down at the ground.

“You can still play your game, but it was either myself telling you or someone else and in a less than transparent way. I will not speak to you as if you are made of glass, you have spirit and drive that deserves a more direct approach.” Nathanos carried on, not noticing her expression. “I would understand if you were angry with her about it.”

“I am not, I would like to be alone for a while though if you don't mind.” she said a little coldly, “It was nice meeting you.” The girl stood up and grabbed her bow and arrows and walked towards the base camp.

Nathanos watched her leave and stared at the target for a minute before his thoughts were interrupted, “shall we go after her? The ridge is clear by the way.” Ranger Captain Areiele stated.

“Wait, let her process what I have just told her then go and talk to her,” Nathanos knew from experience when someone says, “Leave me, I have some thoughts to consider,” it meant, “I am not happy, do not speak to me.” 

“You spared no feelings then?” Areiele asked.

“What good would sparing her feelings be? She has been on her own for...well, I dont know, but I assume a while, she probably has caught on that life can be cruel and unfeeling why should I insult her intelligence and give her flowery words about the harsh reality of what happened?” He said in response to her question. 

“I am not saying you should have spared her feelings on what happened with Quel’thalas, she needed to be told the whole story long ago, it was how you handled the revelation of Lady Sylvanas. That was something that our Queen wanted to tell her when she had the time.” Areiele said this with as much restraint as she could muster. 

Nathanos’s expression fell a little as he listened, “I see, so you are saying I should have kept my mouth shut on that matter?”

“Yes, to put it bluntly. I understand why you did, but that was for  Lady Sylvanas to tell her not you. I am going to speak with her, she will have questions. I suggest you keep your distance for now.” Areiele’s frustration was starting to come through, sometimes this human could be aggravating even if he was the second in command next to the banshee queen.

“I will await her return then,” Nathanos said resignedly. 

Areiele nodded and left to find the now shocked little ranger, when she did find her the girl looked near tears. “Is it Quel’Thalas or finding out your hero was with you the whole time?”

“A little of both, I am upset because I was not told everything. I am also upset because I must have looked silly pretending.” The girl stated as tears threatened to fall. I won't cry! She thought.

“You are a child, you are allowed to be silly and pretend. Want me to tell you a little about her? Now that you know? I do warn you there are things in which I cannot tell you for that is up to her and how much trust she puts in you. She has been betrayed and let down before so I am going to be careful in what I say.” Areiele said in a calm voice. She sat down next to the girl who only nodded, her long red hair covered her eyes but the dark ranger could tell she was trying not to cry.

“When Quel’Thalas fell Sylvanas and her rangers, including myself were turned into banshees. She was allowed awareness but no control, so when Arthas’s hold on us weakened she took a chance and broke free. She took in the undead scourge that remained in Lordaeron and created a home for them in the Undercity, we are called the Forsaken now.” Areiele was less abrupt when speaking but still direct, only telling the girl what she felt she needed to know.

“So, she's been looking after them since they were freed from Arthas’s grasp?” The girl asked, moving the red locks away from her tear stained face.

“She became our Dark Lady, the Banshee Queen, and we are her rangers. Nathanos, I will let either him explain or Lady Sylvanas. I will say he is her most trusted second in command and well, we tend to think something is there between them, but do not tell them I told you.” Areiele smiled conspiratorially to the girl as she finished her sentence.

“Since then she has watched over us and lead us, she was made Warchief of the Horde recently, do you know what the Alliance and Horde are?” She asked.

“I have a small idea of what they are, they sound like two fighting kids to me,” the girl shrugged.

“They are in a way, I will explain that another day. I know what I have told you is a brief summary, you will learn about Sylvanas over time, depending on how long you choose to stay or how much you wish to know. I can certainly help with that as can the other rangers if we choose to.” Areiele informed her.

“That will satisfy me, thank you.” The girl said assuringly.

The ranger captain and the little girl both sat awhile and spoke unaware an angry Sylvanas had returned.

“Nathanos, I trust the girl is alright? I did not see her perched on her rock, or practicing,” Sylvanas had looked a few times on the way back, had she left?

She probably hates me like everyone else, Nathanos thought before answering, “She is fine My Queen, just upset. Mostly due to me. I take it by the look on your face things did not go well?”

“Always observant aren’t you?” Sylvanas smirked then frowned, “No, things didn't go well, Greymane survived that explosion on his boat and...” She fumed, she did not need to finish the sentence for he already knew, and it too made him angry. “I was about to so close to having more val’kyr, so close to securing a future for the Forsaken.”

“We will find another way, I am sure of it,” Nathanos said reassuringly.

“Yes, we will.” Sylvanas agreed. “Now what is this about the little ranger being upset?”

“I explained to her what happened to Quel’thalas and to you, which lead me to tell her your identity, and---”

“That was my job,” she interrupted, “You did the right thing in giving her more information about her people but you should have waited and let me tell her, I was having fun with our little game.”

“Apologies, my Queen it was an oversight on my part,” Nathanos said.

“I will talk to her,” she paused and touched his chin, “do not fret about it, she will forget your mishap soon enough.”

“Is she to stay with us then?” Nathanos asked curiously.

“I have left that up to her, whether she chooses to follow me or not, it would be in her best interests to do so.” Sylvanas replied and headed off to where a group of rangers were sitting.

Nathanos nodded and went back to his duties, there was no time to be idle.

Sylvanas approached the group quietly and listened to the laughter of the girl, she seems fine to me, so far. What was he thinking? I would have told her eventually. She told herself before making her presence known, “Little Ranger.”

The little girl looked up at the woman who she now knew was Sylvanas Windrunner, “Welcome back, Ranger- I mean- Sylvanas?” 

“Yes, perhaps you and I can go on a little adventure? I have some time to spare and I would like to get to know you.” Sylvanas’s question was more of a demand but the girl did not protest.

“Where do you want to go? There are some woods for hunting? The rangers said---”

“No, I was thinking outside Stormheim as our task here is done, we will not be coming back here,” the banshee queen stated.

“Alright,” the girl nodded, she was getting to understand that Sylvanas was not the type to be idle and do nothing, she wanted efficiency which worked for her. 

“Pack what you have then come with me,” Sylvanas commanded.

“I will do that right away,” the little girl playfully saluted but a little sadness was behind the cheerful and carefree tone.

An hour later Sylvanas and the girl headed out on undead horses, the rest of the rangers and nathanos were given orders to make sure the area stayed secure then move onto the next task ahead. 

To Be Continued.

[sevensstories]

I Thought I Knew You Chapter 3: Day 1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Angel Dust, Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Husker, Niffty, Cherri Bomb, Fat Nuggetz Ships: Radiodust slowburn Updates: Maybe every Thursday depending on my schedule Warnings: Alcohol mention, drug mention, mature content, mature language

Chapter 1: House Arrest Chapter 2: Contraband  Chapter 3: Day 1 You Are Here Chapter 4: Day 2

Read it on AO3, or just read under the cut!

Angel Dust once again found himself in the dining hall, glaring at the demon sitting across from him. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop as he studied that ever-present smile. He knew it was Alastor who raided his room. He knew it. But what the hell could he do about it?

He couldn’t confront him, that would be admitting he had the stuff in the first place. The last thing he needed was Charlie finding out. Even if he confronted Alastor in private, more than likely that would lead to a very dead Angel Dust. If he could help it, he really preferred staying alive. Or, well, undead. He would consider retaliation, but he didn’t need other things he owned being taken because they were deemed a “bad influence”, or whatever else Alastor came up with to make his life more miserable than it already was. Knowing him, he would somehow make up an excuse to take Fat Nuggetz, and Angel Dust didn’t think he’d be able to cope with that one. So, short answer, he couldn’t do a damn thing.

God fucking damn it.

“Is everything okay, Angel Dust?”

The concern in Charlie’s tone snapped Angel Dust from his thoughts. He glanced up, met with a worried expression. He sighed and straightened up, setting his fork down on his plate. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not hungry.”

Angel Dust didn’t miss the way Alastor’s smile widened just a notch and his eyes narrowed. “Oh but, Angel Dust, you’ve hardly touched your breakfast! Did you have a… rough night?”

Angel Dust felt fury bubble up in his stomach. Of course, of course the cheeky bastard would openly taunt him, because Alastor was well aware that there wasn’t a damn thing Angel Dust could do about it. However, after a second’s pause, a slow, easy smirk replaced his glare. Or was there? Angel Dust leaned his elbows against the table and rested his chin in his hands, making sure his chest was extra fluffed and in full view. His voice came as a low purr, his eyes half-lidded in a way he knew made other demons just melt. “Sure did, sugar. What, did’ya feel me thinkin’ ‘bout ya?”

Oh, how the tables turned. Alastors sadistic grin quickly faded, replaced with a nervous smile. “I, aehm… p-pardon?”

“You heard me, baby,” Angel practically moaned, shimmying his shoulders a bit and batting his eyelashes. “I mean, if you’re curious, you can always join me, I’d be happy to have the company.”

“I-I don’t, um…” There it was, damn it was too easy sometimes. One suggestive comment and that tough guy act just crumbled away. Whatever Alastor came up with as retaliation later, this was more than worth it.

“Angel Dust!” His attention snapped to Vaggie, who did not look happy with his little display. Her arms were crossed and she had a glare like she was trying to burn holes through his forehead. 

Knowing Vaggie and how much she disliked Angel Dust, she probably was.

“You really have to do this here?” She snapped. “Some of us are trying to eat, you know.”

“Yeah, and some of us are trying to get eaten,” Angel Dust retorted. Remembering Alastor’s rumored cannibalistic tendencies, he thought better of his comment and shot a wink towards Alastor. “In the fun way, I mean.”

It would seem as if that was Alastor’s last straw. He stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair backwards. His voice was filled with static and had a slightly panicked tone that was music to Angel Dust’s ears. “Would you look at the time! I have a… thing to do. Yes, a thing! Goodbye.” He was gone before anyone could stop him, not that anyone wanted to try.

“Wow, that’s gotta be his weakest excuse yet,” Angel Dust mused, examining the claws on one of his hands. “I think I’m actually getting better at this, and I didn’t even think that was possible.”

“You’re supposed to be becoming a better person,” Vaggie grumbled, standing and picking up her plate. “I’ve lost my appetite.

“Hey, two for one! Look at me go,” Angel dust grinned, clearly way to proud of himself. Even Charlie gave a somewhat exasperated sigh. 

“Angel Dust, I know you’re upset about being under house arrest, but do you really have to retaliate?” Angel Dust chose to ignore the soft pang of guilt he felt at the disappointment in Charlie’s tone.

“Who said I was retaliating?” He huffed, crossing his arms and slouching back in his chair. “Gotta entertain myself somehow, considering I’m not even allowed to go outside.”

Charlie frowned, studying Angel Dust for a moment before speaking. “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but it really is for your own good. We wouldn’t be doing it if we didn’t think it would honestly help in your redemption.”

Angel Dust almost couldn’t help the eye roll, because of course that’s what she would say. “Yeah, well maybe I don’t want to be redeemed. Didj’a ever think of that?”

“Of course you do,” Angel Dust didn’t miss the nervousness that tainter her smile. “I mean, why else would you be at the hotel? You volunteered, remember? To get better?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know.” Angel Dust stood, not bothering to pick up his untouched plate. “Maybe because this place is free? I needed a place to stay before the extermination hit, this is a place to stay that don’t charge rent. It ain’t rocket science, toots.” “I know you don’t mean that!” Charlie’s hopeful smile and the optimism in her tone were infuriating. “You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t some part of you that didn’t want to get better, and that’s exactly what we’ll help you achieve!” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. I’m going to my room.” Angel Dust didn’t give her a chance to respond before he walked off in a huff.  Who did she think she was? As if he’d ever actually fall for her little redemption scam. There was no way even she believed that bullshit. But, hey, who was he to tell her how to live her life. He made his way back to his room. If nothing else he could just snuggle with Fat Nuggetz, the only one in this whole damn hotel who wasn’t royally getting on his nerves right now. It wasn’t until his hand rested on the doorknob that he heard the radio static. 

That god damn radio static.

“Fuck off, smiles.” He didn’t even turn to face the demon that he knew had to be standing right behind him, creepy ass motherfucker. 

“I’m just checking on you,” Alastor purred, clearly recovered from earlier. Damn that was fast. “I mean, that is my job now, after all.”

“Oh bullshit,” Angel Dust pushed his door open and walked inside. Nuggetz perked up with his return, and shrank back when he spotted Alastor. “You’re just enjoying making my life as fucked as possible and we both know it.”

Alastor hesitated before venturing inside behind Angel Dust, glancing around the now familiar room. “Nonsense, my dear! I’m simply doing what any good, ah, caretaker would do and checking in on my ward.”

“You’re not a caretaker, you’re a warden.” Angel Dust flopped over on his bed, resting his upper arms over his eyes. “Don’t try to sugarcoat what this is.”

“Oh, I would never.” Alastor’s grin widened a notch.

Angel Dust peeked out from under his arms, irritation and bitterness leaving a sour tang in his mouth. “You just let yourself right on in now, huh?”

“You could say that.” Alastor absentmindedly spun his microphone in place. “You could say I’ve already acquainted myself with your quarters.”

Oh this brazen bitch. Angel Dust didn’t exactly expect Alastor to hide it, but this was ballsy as hell. “Oh, so you admit it then?”

“Admit what? You’ll have to be more specific.” Alastor’s eyes wandered back over to Angel Dust, clearly enjoying this little game he was playing.

“You know very well what!” Angel Dust sat up with a glare. “I get takin’ the drugs and booze, whatever, it sucks but I can deal with it. But the toys?! That shit’s personal!”

“You mean the items you were in no way permitted to have?” His grin widened, once again taking on a sadistic tone. “Why, Angel Dust, I’m only doing the work I’ve been assigned. Don’t you know, you’ll never be redeemed if you’re allowed to keep such… belongings.”

“Oh, what, so you can’t even say ‘sex toys’?” Angel Dust snorted, not missing the way those words made Alastor bristle. “We both know you don’t give two shits about redemption, especially my redemption, so save the act for Charlie.”

“Regardless of my feelings about redemption, yours or otherwise, I’ve been given a job to do.” The smirk Alastor was sporting was all the more infuriating. Oh what Angel Dust wouldn’t give to punch those oversized teeth right out of his mouth. 

“You don’t care about your ‘job’,” Angel Dust made air quotations with his fingers to emphasize his point, “you just wanna make my life miserable. Well, you know what, pal? I’m already in hell, so do your worst. I don’t got nothin’ ta lose.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” Alastor’s sinister tone sent shudders down Angel Dust’s spine, and he found himself rethinking his little challenge. Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea after all.

However, he was nothing if not stubborn. “I guess we will,” he huffed, crossing both sets of arms. “But I’ll say this. I betcha you’re gonna get sick of this little charade ya got goin’ long before ya get me ta give up.”

Alastor perked in interest. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yeah, it is.” Angel Dust shifted uncomfortably, but he held his ground. He knew this was a bad idea, but damn it he was pissed and he had poor impulse control.

Alastor considered a moment, studying Angel Dust with an intensity he wasn’t used to. It took everything he had to stay still and not show Alastor how much he was doubting his own words. Far too long of a pause passed before Alastor spoke again, his demeanor far too relaxed and his grin much too sharp. “Well, then, in that case, how about a wager?”

Angel cocked a brow. “What kinda wager?”

Alastor took a step closer, leaning forward so he was closer to eye level with Angel Dust. “Oh just the kind where, if I win, you leave this little establishment. You go home, to your filthy studio, and you never come back. The kind where if I win, when I win, and I so much as see you again, I’ll be sure to see to it that ‘Angel Dust’ is never heard from again.”

Angel Dust felt his heart stop for a moment. Leave the hotel? He was here for a reason, and it wasn’t exactly by choice. He doubted he would actually be able to stay in the studio after what he had pulled, and even if he could Valentino was sure to make his life far worse than Alastor ever could. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach. On the other hand…

He was no stranger to deals, and he could get this to work in his favor.

Angel Dust put on a cocky grin to match Alastor’s, masking his own doubts. “Ya know what? You’re on, baby. But what do I get if I win?”

Alastor paused and drew back, considering. “Hm. I suppose I hadn’t thought of that, not that it will matter in the end. What is it that you’d want?”

Angel Dust considered a moment. What did he want? This was a big opportunity here, he didn’t want to waste it on a laugh. There were plenty of things that he could ask of Alastor, plenty of things that would make him squirm and be oh so satisfying to watch, but nothing that would benefit him in the long run. His mis-matched eyes widened when something came to mind. No, scratch that, there was one thing he could ask for. One thing that would solve all of his problems, if he could just hold out for the next month. 

He looked up at Alastor, newfound determination igniting his features. “Buy my contract from Valentino.”

Alastor visibly faltered, his eyes widening in shock. “...pardon?”

Okay, this was good. He threw Alastor off his rhythm, this could work. “You heard me. If I win, when I win, I want you to buy my contract.” He mimicked Alastor’s words in a faux display of confidence he prayed Alastor couldn’t see through. 

Alastor blinked away his shock and his wide grin masked anything else he may have felt. “Oh, is that all? Well that’s easy enough! Not that it will matter, you won’t be winning this little bet of ours.” Alastor offered his hand, a green glow emanating from his palm. A blast of air shot past them both from the sheer force of his power, and Angel Dust felt uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach like a rock. Alastor, on the other hand, looked nothing but confident. Excited, even, like a predator primed to go in for the kill. Like he knew he had won. “So, do we have a deal?”

This was a bad idea.

Angel Dust hesitated just a moment before taking the hand and giving it a firm shake. “Deal.”

A burning sensation traveled from their conjoined hands up his arm, all the way to the side of his neck where it stuck like a pin. Angel Dust couldn’t help his wince, and he didn’t miss the way Alastor’s grin darkened.

This was a really, really bad idea.

And in an instant it was over. Angel Dust was left standing at a loss, whereas Alastor was already making his way to the door. “Wonderful! Just wonderful, pleasure doing business with you my good fellow! Now that that’s settled, I must be on my way.” Alastor opened the door and stepped through, offering Angel Dust one final glance that made his fur stand on end. “Until next time!” And with that, Alastor disappeared into the hallway. 

Angel Dust just stood there, trying to process what had just happened. How much of a mistake was this going to be? What were his chances of even winning? He had never gone through withdrawal before, but he was sure it was going to be a bitch. Could he really hold out for an entire month?

Then again, when his thoughts drifted to what Valentino would do to him if he ever dared to go crawling back to the studio, he realized he didn’t have much of a choice.

He was stuck with this deal, whether he liked it or not.

[polygon-streams]

April 21st, 2019 - Pat’s Easter/Post 4/20 Donk Souls Stream

Pat played another stream of Donk Souls, back again with Magnum Jr. Stream went on for a little over 3 1/2 hours, so there’s quite a bit to note

Recaps a bit on yesterday's stream, telling the story of Magnum Jr.

Is interrupted by piss as he explains how he wants to find a loincloth for Magnum Jr, we are still on the fight for as naked of a Kong as possible

"Suns out guns out here in Lothric" - Pat, 2k19

Thanks some good subbers

Waluigi subbed up, thank you Waluigi

Vordt of the Boreal Valley is a fun name

"Hey.. hey, man.. hey.... alright bye, guess I'll see you later, man." - Pat @ a skeleton lookin’ enemy who walked away from him

Magnum Jr. has an arrow through his neck is he ok

4/20 was successful because he didn’t do weed due to it being an illegal criminal activity

"I don't want to perry.. what do i look like... Matthew?"

Has a very long stare at the chat ".................Matthew Perry"

Bonk bonk bonk souls

Gives a few more gifted sub shoutouts

Half-logan?

( Chunk of the stream is missing about right here. Only about 30 minutes, sorry about that )

He doesn’t drop pants

Beeline for vort

Memeshart is giving good gamer advice ( I’m sorry Pat, we all know Memeshart is the supreme gamer here )

“I got vorted” - Pat Gill, 2k19

Let’s fucking go, Pat can do it, we got this

Pat has fought this Vordt X times

“Juice time, baby, juice me” - also Pat, 2k19

He’s having more trouble than usual bc his other characters wore clothes

Vordt Souls

RP: do you guys know my dad?

Hums to konkey dong

X is your uber ride, am outside

God dammit, dogs. He’s killing the bone dogs.

One of this weird turtleback men is actually my friends that wants to hang out with me

Does that make me into beef jerky? I want my Kong to be fresh

More dog hate. He’s getting mauled by dogs. “Please lord of Dark Souls don’t let these dogs kill me”

“Why can’t I use ember? Is it because I already am bird shit?” nice joke.

Tropical freeze is such a good soundtrack. He’s done into the past and he may switch to it towards the end

He wants to bottle feed the kittens. He feels the best way to get a kitten to drink out of the bottle is by convincing them they really don’t want it to drink out of the bottle

Just realized he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on in this game after noticing for the first time a person is growing into a plant. Now he’s wondering why the people in this town are turning into trees. Angel b: they’ve commited treason greatest victory : they’re turning over a new leaf

He wants to make today and tomorrow pizza days. And he’s got a big thing of lactaid so he’s set to commit this mistake

He’s working on the environmental storytelling. That’s why he likes it, you have to put it together

If Ken Levine made this game he’d had made it clear by writing on a wall or something but not here

Dark Souls II: spooky stuff here in dark souls. That’s why the game is not called light and breezy souls

He got box stabbed, but he’s having a nice time souls

“This is my friend, Johnny, get it?” - We didn’t get it

“This is my friend, David”

“This is also my friend, Nick”

“Johnny cage.. because it’s a bunch of people in a cage” ( can confirm joke landed only for like two people )

This area gives Bloodborne vibes. Sorta medieval Bloodborne

“I’m not gonna use the whip”

jk he might try

Important update: Charles is sneezing

Camera angle is not in Pat’s favor up in this ruins and he hates it

He doesnt wanna fight anyone called Hodrick

We’re gonna avoid Hodrick and go fight a giant shooting arrows from a tower

22.32 Bijan is here

Memeshart is a consultant-- Pat is calling on memeshart like an Alexa

“Memeshart, play Despacito” Another great joke, Patrick

We’re testing Memeshart’s knowledge boundaries

Memeshart lore: They were picked up from a shipwreck by the current memeshart

Pat doesn’t remember this part being so annoying ( he also doesn’t remember he had clothes for the other characters )

Again with the Johnny/David/Nicholas Cage joke ( but now we all got it )

He’s avoiding killing non hostiles ( he definitely killed them in his main files, though )

Grim Acceptance: The emotion that bopping to The Entire Buck Bumble Theme for 3000 Bits elicits

He’s not particularly excited for the Sega Genesis mini. He didn’t have a Sega so he’s not particularly nostalgic

Bastard Sword: “I am kind of a bastard.”

22.48 Faith’s here

X i s one of hs favorite tracks in the Donkey Kong Country soundtrack

dumbassrights was gifted a sub. a good username, we can all agree

Unspoken chat rule: You aren’t allowed to say you got pizza without also saying the toppings

“He- he packed a bowl, but it was 420 yesterday!” - Pat

Very close to having the loincloth

“Love a big rat”

He doesn’t lock on a lot of enemies, especially big enemies, with enemies surrounding

Even more dog hate. Sorry, can’t relate.

Onion man is with us. he did not help with dog enemy.

“This guy sounds like Paul F. Tompkins doing Alan Thicke”

He’s good friends with the big archer giant. Friendship goals.

Bijan: “Can anyone explain the plot of Dark Souls?” Pat: “No.”

“It’s time to probably die”

Onion man is sleeping, chat decides to spam z for good slumbers

Lore check: this is the son of Magnum Kong , Magnum Kong Junior and he’s trying to find his dad, his papa, his daddy.

Went full “That’s rough, buddy” with “They really just tied a bunch of people to these burning wheels, huh….. rough..”

“I’m not good at archery, but the point is not about doing well, it’s about having fun.”

( sees enemies ) ( gasp ) two of them! ( dies )

Memeshart comes in again to say Pat missed a chest. Thank you for your service, Memeshart

Memeshart was right ( as always )

enemies: throw orbs pat: Is that allowed??

Still hasn’t seen the bone ball. Boneball watch 2k19

“Perfect for us whomst love to hate wear pants”

Spitballing this part because he hasn’t played it.

( picks up a reinforced club ) “I’ve joined the reinforced club. The club is me. I am the club.”

“goin’ on a quick loin cloth quest”

“I’m not sure what burning an undead bone shard does, but 420 was yesterday.” - I am not sure what this means but he isn’t wrong, I guess?

We’re gonna go burn an undead bone shard in a loincloth

“Loincloth is a bit more modest than previous ones but we got the legs exposed which is important” - good fashion advice from pat

“I do like the swing of the cloth it makes you think you might have a little peek if you get lucky”

“I’m touching a lady hold the fucking phone dude. Did I fail the touch?”

Young Man Charles was in the background for like 5 seconds and chat went absolutely nuts. As they should.

“I just wish we could get the ass out more in this game. I guess they cut down on the ass.”

Pat yeeted the sword master.

We’re gonna fuck up a tree. He’s the first or second big boss in Dark Souls 3

Content Warning: Nasty Boss. Pat’s gonna smack this tree’s groin area.

Faith is somehow not fond of this boss. I wonder why

Charlie showed up but Pat is busy busting these veggie’s nuts

Pat’s still adamant about not using the whip: “I’m not gonna whip this tree dude’s nards”

“Watchin’ Highlander on 4/20!”

Does not want to be hollow, would rather be ‘plump and svelte’

“I love when my elaborate attack doesn’t hit.” - A relatable gamer feel by Pat

Pat is having a sweaty one today

“We should clay-less…. We should mackle-less ( old man groaning noises )”

“I think the gentleman doth mackle too much.”

Oh, it’s drag JK Rowling o’clock! sipping_that_tea.jpg

According to Pat you psychologically cannot poop standing up

“Why did she say that? why did she do this?”

Chat says that babies poop standing up. Pat responds with, “Babies aren’t like us.”

“I’ve had enough poopoo peepee talk for today. Fuck JK Rowling.”

Chat is going full trans rights for seemingly no reason, it’s beautiful.

Was that little man always there? We may never know. Pat definitely does not remember the lil dude though, but seems to appreciate his presence nonetheless.

Here goes the french champagne

c h u n k y  r o l l i n ‘

admin duderave put that he spilled cottage cheese on himself in chat, “duderave… how much cottage cheese was spilled…”

admin duderave was laughed at for spilling cottage cheese on himself. it be like that sometimes.

Aerospoon back at it again gifting about 10 subs today. Nice goin’, buddy, doing God’s work on this fine Easter

He was talking about his next stream and got distracted by Charlie, as you do ( the next stream is tuesday at 8pm est )

He’s got the whole day off on Tuesday bc he worked pretty much all week due to traveling

After clicking around for a minute, decided to raid thatguyTagg, and said goodbye

End of stream!

[terramythos]

Review: Vicious by V. E. Schwab (Villains #1) (REREAD)

Length: 364 pages. 

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Science Fiction, Superheroes, Revenge Narrative, Dark, Time Jumps, Perspective Shifts, Third-Person, Great Characters, Duology

Warning(s): Graphic violence and torture. One of the main characters is just straight up genocidal. There is a very dubious consent scene later in the novel (non-explicit). Child death (sort of?). This is like, a gray versus black morality kind of story, so don’t read it if that isn’t your thing?

My Rating: 8.5 / 10

My Summary:

Victor and Eli, two genius college roommates at the top of their game, come up with a hypothesis for their senior project— that near-death experiences sometimes result in superpowers. However, when they test their theory, things go terribly awry, and both are left forever changed. Victor finds himself with the ability to manipulate pain. Eli becomes functionally immortal. And with a body count behind both young men, they transform from best friends into bitter enemies. 

Ten years later, Victor escapes from prison. Cunning and manipulative, Victor has had a decade to contemplate revenge against the man who put him there— Eli. When he finds an injured 12-year-old girl on the side of the road, he discovers Eli has spent the last decade systematically murdering EOs— people with supernatural abilities. Sydney, who can raise the dead, is the one of the few to escape. 

With the help of Sydney and his former cellmate Mitch, Victor begins to enact his revenge. But it’s only a matter of time before Victor and Eli finish what they started ten years ago…

But these words people threw around— humans, monsters, heroes, villains— to Victor it was all just a matter of semantics. Someone could call themselves a hero and still walk around killing dozens. Someone else could be labeled a villain for trying to stop them. Plenty of humans were monstrous, and plenty of monsters knew how to play at being human. The difference between Victor and Eli, he suspected, wasn’t their opinion on EOs. It was their reaction to them. Eli seemed intent to slaughter them, but Victor didn’t see why a useful skill should be destroyed just because of its origin. EOs were weapons, yes, but weapons with minds and wills and bodies, things that could be bent and twisted and broken and used.

Vicious is an interesting book to reread because, while the book itself hasn’t changed, the context behind it has. When I read this back in 2016 it was a standalone novel, originally published in 2013. Now I’m rereading it specifically because there is an unexpected sequel (Vengeful, 2018), and I wanted a refresher before jumping into it. Second, maybe a more minor detail— this book is homoerotic as hell, and I remember wondering if it was intentional on a first read. Now that Schwab recently came out as gay, I’m thinking it probably was, which makes it all the more entertaining.  

It’s also interesting to see how much Schwab’s writing has changed over time. Originally, I read Vicious, enjoyed it, then decided to read her big fantasy series Shades of Magic, and… Well, let’s just say *that* ended up being one of my favorite trilogies ever. Whoops? But in many ways I feel my enjoyment of Shades of Magic overshadowed Vicious. I enjoyed this book, but honestly I kind of forgot about it even though it was the first one I read. That was another reason to revisit it; while I might not like it as much as Shades of Magic, it’s still plenty good.

Before I do a deep dive into the book, I think it’s important to discuss the structure. Vicious basically has two stories— one in the past, and one in the present. The first half mostly focuses on the past, while the second half mostly focuses on the present. “Mostly” is important here— the story is very anachronistic. This serves to heighten the drama; we learn about Victor and Eli’s past relationship, then get a glimpse of just how corrupted and different it is in the present day, and of course wonder what got them to this point. While I feel it’s easy to do time and perspective jumps poorly, the chapters themselves are pretty short, so I never felt disconnected from any particular plot thread. The pacing was always solid. If anything I found this novel pretty easy to read, because I could tackle just a few chapters at a time yet make significant progress in the story.

Vicious is, without a doubt, character-driven. People with superpowers exist— called ExtraOrdinary people (EOs)— and said powers develop in a unique way. Other than that there’s nothing super special about the setting. And aside from the interesting structure, the story is pretty standard. But the characters themselves are fascinating and by far the strongest point of the novel. The main focus is obviously on Victor and Eli, and how they serve as foils to one another. Both are arrogant and straight-up terrible people, but the way they see the world differs greatly, and that’s ultimately what separates the “hero” of the story (Victor) from the villain (Eli). Gray versus black morality, hooray!

Seeing the initial relationship between the two leads and how it sours and twists over time is quite interesting. At first Eli seems to be the most level-headed of the two, but as the story develops you learn how fanatical and unhinged he really is. Dude just straight up embraces genocide after a point. Meanwhile, Victor is clearly a vindictive and selfish dick from the get-go, yet as Eli’s true nature shows, seems much less terrible by comparison. The story is sometimes a bit on-the-nose with the whole hero vs villain thing and how the two defy usual expectations, but it is still interesting to realize you’re genuinely rooting for Victor. Despite everything he’s a pretty likable character.

Aside from Victor and Eli, there are three supporting characters who substantially affect the story. Preteen Sydney gets the most screentime, and with Mitch (Victor’s bodyguard/hacker/cellmate) serves as the humanizing part of the story. Victor even seems to sort of care for the two! Though how much of that is genuine attachment versus just finding them useful is debatable. There’s a super twisted found family vibe with the trio which starts to form near the end (they adopt an undead dog and everything!). On the antagonistic side of things, we have Serena, Sydney’s older sister, who has the power to compel others. She’s pretty terrifying, and has her own twisted motivations for helping Eli. At times she’s honestly more unsettling than he is.

One of my main complaints about Vicious when I first read it was *just* as I started to really dig the side characters, their relationships, and their developments… the novel ended. Yes, Sydney gets significant development through the story. But Mitch and Serena get shafted. We only really get to know them toward the end of the novel with backstory dumps or a handful of perspective chapters. A lot of the novel’s real estate centers on Victor and Eli’s past, and while I think that’s an integral part of the novel, it feels like something is missing. At the time I thought this novel either needed to be longer or it needed a sequel. Well, now it has one of those things, so it will be interesting to see what Vengeful does with the characters.  

Thematically and philosophically there’s some interesting stuff going on. The hero vs villain thing is the most obvious, and as I mentioned gets pretty direct at times. But one idea I found interesting to consider is what happens to the souls of ExtraOrdinary people. It’s initially stated as fact that EOs lose a part of themselves when they die and return. They’re different, changed in a way they can’t quite describe. And for most of the novel this seems to be true. Victor and Eli both become twisted, detached people, obsessed with their own perceptions of reality. The two realize they should feel or think certain things and simply… don’t. Both attribute it to the fact they died and came back “wrong”. But the more we learn about both characters, the more we realize they were pretty much like that all along. The idea that people lose something doesn’t really hold up when you examine Sydney, who turns into a stronger and more vibrant person after coming back. It’s an interesting realization, because it highlights just how wrong Eli’s actions are.

There’s also a whole deal regarding God and spirituality vs science. Eli justifies nearly everything he does in the name of God, whereas Victor is an atheist— but the extent to which this affects things is a definite gray area. There are some uncanny coincidences in the story (like Victor discovering Sydney) that would be bad writing… except the characters notice it happening. On multiple occasions Victor notes that if God or Fate exists, it seems to be siding with him, not Eli. Even the formation of ExtraOrdinary abilities is bizarre. One gets superpowers based on their final thoughts and feelings? That’s so decidedly unscientific, especially from something that starts as a science experiment, that it really sticks out to me. Is there more to this dichotomy? I guess we’ll see if the sequel explores it more.

There are some small details I really like, but I think my favorite is the blackout poetry thing. There’s just something interesting and really funny about Victor defacing his famous parents’ self-help books. He mentions it’s one of the best gifts he got in prison, and it’s also one of the first things he does when he gets out. Probably the funniest part in the whole story is an intense chase scene where Victor is trying to escape someone through an unfamiliar house. He spots a Vale book on a shelf, and pauses EVERYTHING to just grab it and throw it out the window, then returns to the scene as if nothing happened. It’s just such an unnecessary detail that might have ended up on the cutting room floor but I honestly lost my shit laughing.

The ending is also viscerally satisfying. So much stuff ties together well. While the novel is about Victor and Eli and (ultimately) Victor’s revenge, you don’t actually learn much about his plan until it happens. A lot of lines and actions read differently in context of the ending, which is always something I like in a story.

(And here’s a totally skippable aside— *is* there some connection between this series and Monsters of Verity? The latter is a young adult duology by Schwab, which I read and reviewed here and here. But the first book has an opening quote from Victor. Hell, it’s part of the quote I picked for this review. They don’t seem to be in the same universe but… maybe they are? It’s just such a goddamn weird choice to quote a “V. Vale” at the beginning of an unrelated series. Maybe Vengeful has an explanation? Maybe Schwab just really liked that whole monsters vs humans line? I have no idea.)

Anyway, yeah, that’s Vicious! It’s certainly a fun one to read. The writing is punchy and easy to get through. The conflict between Victor and Eli is very well written and compelling. And, as I mentioned, the characters are the strong point (in my opinion, anyway), so if you enjoy character-driven media I definitely recommend it. Just note my caveat about some of the character development. Skip it if you’re one of those people bothered by Bad People Doing Bad Things In Fiction or think portraying Bad People Doing Bad Things is somehow Endorsing Bad Things. If dark stories aren’t your thing you definitely won’t enjoy this one. There are some aspects of the story that I feel could have been smoother or done differently, most of which I touch on in the review. I think Schwab has improved a lot since writing it, which is one reason I’m excited that my next read is the 2018 sequel.

[hopoo]

DEADBOLT Q&A

I tried to answer every question as honestly as I could, so I hope this is a good read. If your question isn’t there, it’s either identical to another one asked or joined together with another question. Cheers!

Q: In total, how much time does the campaign of Deadbolt span? It’s hard to tell, what with it being infinite nighttime and all.

A: I would imagine a month-ish. It is implied that the Candles are doing some sort of investigative work between missions, which would surely take some time. Q: Did you have any major inspirations for the visual design of DEADBOLT? A: John Wick is obviously the biggest one! Q: What would hopoo do if someone made a game completely based and inspired from Deadbolt and its… Concept? (with permission and not) A: There’s no way DEADBOLT is that unique in settings or thematics – ultimately, you know what’s right and what’s wrong when you’re inspired by a work, and so will everyone else! If you feel obligated to ask for permission, maybe you’re not exploring enough original ideas? Q: When will we get modding? if so could we get a simplified modding kit? Any plans for updating dedbort, even just the map editor? Feature for adding custom sprites, rotation tool, copypasta tool, just to name a few… A: So the thing with that is that the map editor is only half the equation – while the map editor may be writing stuff to files, it also has to be interpreted on the end by the DEADBOLT game itself. Therefore, adding features that aren’t supported in engine simply won’t work – it won’t know what youre talking about. While rotation is supported in the engine, it doesn’t know how to read that from the files, etc. I also am trying to avoid any legacy issues where old maps are required for old versions of DEADBOLT, or vice versa. Q: When is deadbolt 2 coming with werewolves and mummies A: Werewolves aren’t undead you dingus. But mummies could be cool.

Q: Will the stuff that came with the release of Deadbolt on Play Station, will be added on PC? A: Nope, that was sorta our deal-sweetener for getting on the Sony consoles. Q: Will we ever see expansion levels for Deadbolt or would we get Deadbolt 2 instead? A: DEADBOLT 2 maybe sometime

Q: Does Ibzan is gay? A: I haven’t really thought of the sexual orientation of any of the characters, and I definitely don’t want to pull a JK Rowling and retroactively assign them. So in terms of canon, that just hasn’t been explored.

Q: Would you prefer deadbolt 2 to be in 3d and 2d? Would you do a sequel? A: DEADBOLT is probably the narrowest design space I’ve worked with – there’s no dodging, insta death, insta travel attacks. By the end I felt very stretched out in terms of enemy design, and for that alone I’d think 3D. But hey, I may also just hate 3D by the end of RoR2 so who knows :^). I’d love to do a sequel one day, most likely from the perspective of Ibzan. But who knows! Q: Did Ibzan want to kill the Fire, or just try to reconcile with it? A: He just wanted to talk – but who knows what would’ve happened after the Fireplace rejected him? Q: Would you be interested in going back to the world of deadbolt sometime in the future? I remember hearing somewhere a 3D concept would be interesting to work on. A: I wish I was talented or driven enough to write comics for it – I think DEADBOLT is more about the stories of individuals, compared to RoR who is a story of the universe. I wrote the Cassette Tapes to reflect that. Q: Looking back, is there anything you’d change about Deadbolt? A: Hmmm… I just wish I somehow could expand more on the lore and gangs, and what their goals were. Gameplay-wise, it was a tad too short. I liked doing a few standard stages, and then a mix-up stage (sniper, trap, boss, etc) – maybe we could’ve fit in a few more rotations. Q: What’s your favourite loadout? A: Death/Taxes and Flashbang, like a scrub. Q: Would you ever be interested in restarting the asset suggestion thread A: I consider DEADBOLT to be done – as a 2 (now 3!) man team, we financially can’t do the games-as-a-service thing like most big companies can for smaller games like DEADBOLT. I also intended DEADBOLT to be a one-and-done thing as a contrast for Risk of Rain, which we updated for years after release.

=CONTROVERSIAL OPINION ALERT= I personally also think that EVERY game getting a bunch of DLCS and updates and patches for a long time is, in a way, exhausting as a player. I think it makes it hard to feel satisfied when you finished a game and it’s over and you feel completed in the journey, knowing it’s not ~technically~ over until the devs stop patching. I think it’s great for some games (mostly multiplayer-based ones), but some games you just gotta let… finish, on a good note. Semi-open ended endings are always unsatisfying, in my opinion, and so recently it just feels like you don’t ever complete a game. …On the flip side, we are planning on doing lots of post-launch support for RoR2 because it’s actually inline with our design goals, so don’t fret! Q: Will bugs like Scythe not having a cover sprite or some enemies not having a falling sprite (which causes the game to crash) be fixed? A: Which enemies have been missing a falling sprite? They should be resorting to idle, not crashing. Bosses? Q: Just wanted to say, you guys are my favorite games studio, hands down. Now for the question: Now that the Reaper has completed his task and is allowed to rest, what’s next? Is the Fireplace going to keep him resting for a while? Does our MC have another task to accomplish? A: The Fireplace has never let a reaper “rest” before - the reason he is allowed to rest is because Ibzan never got to, and the Fireplace is trying something different with you. This is unexplored territory for the both of them – presumably he just pets his cat and gets bored before getting back to work. Q: What happens to everyone else in the afterlife? A: People who aren’t in the Place? Who knows, and who cares about boring happy afterlife 😊 Q: I had a question about the lore. There’s mentions of places outside the city, across the river Styx. What are they and what are they like? A: The Styx connects the other realms together, including (presumably) wherever the demons came from. This is explored lightly in one of the demon cassette tapes. Q: Will you ever expand more on the world of deadbolt or are you 100% done with it at this point? A: Nope definitely not done, really wanna explore more one day Q: What’s your office address? For post and stuff, maybe I want to send you a box full of A4 sheets of paper with a thousand hoopters on each. A: Maybe this is the paranoia in me but I’m not comfortable posting my address online – you can just tweet it at me a thousand times instead Q: Did Ibzan think the flames would give warmth to the Dredged or was he just lying to them and using them for his own gain? A: He was lying to himself, but he did truly believe that this was going to work, because this (at the time, anyways) seemed like the only way out. Metaphor woawoawo Q: Could you add some sorta DEADBOLT reference into RoR2?  Will the Reaper be playable in Risk of Rain 2 as a bonus? A: Definitely references happening in some form, but playable might be stretchin’ it a bit, especially since it’d be taking up the slot of some more in-universe secret character. Q: How excited are for RoR2? A: Honestly very nervous for the reception, with very big shoes to fill as a sequel for RoR. I just hope people like it, and that we don’t get burnt on 3D because there’s so many possibilities in the future for our games in 3D. Q: How are the Demons born? We know they’re made in birthing chambers, but then is it just like humans or is there anything specific needed for a demon to be born f.e. skeletons>suicide, zombies>overdose, etc. A: Demons aren’t undead and don’t naturally exist in the Place, which is why they have to be smuggled over – they exist in whatever version of hell is in the DEADBOLT universe, and are natural denizens of the underworld. Q: was izban hot before he died? A: The hottest Q: do all the nightclubs canonically have chris c. as the dj A: Yes Q: I love Deadbolt very dearly and i’ve listened to its soundtrack (particularly “Now I Am Become Death”) more times than i can remember. What’s your favourite tune from Deadbolt ? A: Defunktorum or The Proverbial Dust Biters Q: In the Hardmode Cassette Tape it talked about a Reaper that wasn`t the current Reaper that we play as in the Game. Was this Reaper Izban? Since in the tape, he talked about the fireplace as his friend and that could be why he wanted to go back to the fireplace through the portal at the end of the game, to revisit his friend. A: Yes yes and yes. This was most heavily implied in Ibzan’s “home”, which parallel yours. Q: Will RoR2 still have opportunities to create silly messy builds like covering the screen in missiles or releasing an endless stream of Thqwibs? If so, how are you working to mitigate the performance impact of those crazy builds? A: Yep! Currently we have a system that detects the average particle count in a scene and slowly adds a chance non-important effects (like hitsparks or impacts) don’t ever spawn. This will at some point also involve turning off expensive effects and reducing particle LODs. Q: I really love the attention to detail to the characters, environment, aesthetics and gameplay mechanics. Its themes on the criminal underworld and the supernatural give a unique identity in a high-octane/stealth pixel action game I have not seen before. Additionally what prompted or inspired you to make DEADBOLT in the first place? A: DEADBOLT in its entirety was supposed to be not-Risk of Rain. It’s a gorey, violent, moody singleplayer puzzle-stealth game. We were just burnt out from the Risk of Rain experience, and we also wanted to flex our design muscles a bit and show that hey, we’re not just a one-trick pony of gamedevelopment :^) Q: I just played through this game on PS4/Vita over the weekend. Huge fan of Risk of Rain. Even bought it through Limited Run Games. So I had to pick up Deadbolt (Didn’t previously know you had made it either.) and I love it. Its a super solid experience. I’m not sure I have any questions about it. I guess I was curious if co-op multiplayer was ever considered in development? Keep up the great work. Can’t wait to see what you guys make next. A: Nope, because of the reasons above – we wanted a single player game, since RoR was a multiplayer one. Q: First of all, congratulations!! I really loved the game since came out, I bought it for my birthday, since risk of rain made me fell in love with all the pixel art in it, deadbolt didn’t disappointed me!! Everything in it I love it! Thanks for the game!! Now the question You already answered about how the skeletons or vampires came to be in that Place, how the vampires are killed by their lovers, but, how a reaper, becomes to be a reaper? I mean a candle said “I’ve never been so close to one” A: Originally, the reapers were actually supposed to be from suicides – if I remember right, the reaper when going down the stairs to the docks still has the hole in the back of his head in his sprite. Currently, it’s not explored how a reaper is made – I think a bit of mystery is always needed in making a believable universe J Q: Lorewise how many reapers are there total? Why are they incredibly fragile compared to the undead? What makes the reapers not undead? A: IIRC there were 4 fireplaces in the final stage, which was supposed to represent the way the fireplace was communicating to all reapers in the field. Q: Do you like turtles? How about corgis? A: Yes, and yes (although there’s way too many in Seattle now). Q: Did you have any idea Chris would break out a whole band’s worth of musicians for the soundtrack? His work was superb and the OST remains my absolute favorite to this day. A: DEADBOLT OST was actually done with many people – it must be in the credits somewhere! If I remember right, there is at least a drummer and a musician.

Thanks for all the questions, and happy hunting :)

hopoo