#there's so many ads for rusty quill podcasts now :(

[passerkirbius]

Rusty Quill Saga - 24 Hour Follow Up

Hi everyone! I appreciate all the new follows! Might actually get me posting more about stuff!

So, it's been about a day since I posted my response to the Rusty Quill article, and reading some of the tag comments I wanted to respond to a couple, again in the interests of helping those who aren't within the audio fiction community get a little context that you might not otherwise have had.

But I also wanted to put my cards on the table - why should you listen to me? Hi! My name is Lee Davis-Thalbourne, I'm Australian, and I'm one half of the Fiction Podcast Production team Passer Vulpes Productions. We're the creators of a number of fiction podcasts, including Love and Luck and Supernatural Sexuality with Dr. Seabrooke. I also have a reasonable resume of small VA roles with a lot of different podcast production teams, I have a history of theorycrafting around podcast production, and I'm currently engaged in some part-time independent research around fiction podcast production that, if people are interested, I might actually get around to finishing one day. Myself and my partner Erin were the founders of AusFicPodMakers, which was/is an informal group supporting audio fiction producers in Australia, and as part of that support, I currently curate a list of Australian Fiction Podcasts (which I encourage you to take a look at!). In terms of affiliations, PVP is not associated with any podcasting network (though a few have knocked on our door), and I'm not currently producing audio fiction right now - I have no projects on the boil, so to speak.

So, I think I can say, with some evidence, that I'm a part of the audio fiction production scene, that I care about audio fiction in general, that I might have some thoughts worth listening to about it, and that I'm a mostly disinterested party regarding this - I have no particular stake in Rusty Quill's fortunes one way or the other.

Tag Responses

Okay, so I wanted to quickly respond to a few of the tag comments that have popped up in response to yesterday's post, mainly because I feel like it's worth expanding on some of them:

#i also feel bad because i was always kinda wary on tma2#now it feels even more like a cash grab

Look - as a podcast producer, I can respect a cash grab. If you can grab that cash, I'm a strong believer in doing so, because making audio fiction without cash is kinda sucky. It's like any other big endeavour - when you get nothing out of it, it eats away at you. That's part of the reason why PVP isn't producing at the moment - We tried to scale up to multiple productions and it damn near killed us. We weren't really getting the income we needed to do more than just barely break even - we, as producers, weren't making a dime off of our podcasts, even with Patreon and crowdfunding. Rusty Quill is actually an extreme outlier regarding their ability to get cash from their audiences. How extreme? Well, before the TMA2 kickstarter, the most successful Audio Fiction crowdfunding campaign was Unseen, from the producers of Wolf 359, one of the seminal audio fiction shows of the modern audio fiction renaissance, and it hit a little over US$40,000. Which, just to note, was significantly higher than any other audio fiction crowdfund project before it - very few audio fiction crowdfund campaigns get more than around US$5,000-10,000.

So, sure, it's a cash grab. It might still be good anyway though! Don't disregard it just because they're making financially-dominated decisions.

#Adding onto this while the evidence isn't conclusive (because as many people have said it is conjecture and opinions and stuff)#and also the author's credibility is...in question

So, first things first, Newt Schottelkotte is an extremely credible journalist in the Audio Fiction space - they've broken a number of big stories, and written a lot in support of the audio fiction production scene. Wil Williams, who helped edit the piece, is also a highly respected critic and journalist within the space, while Tal Minear is a very prolific audio fiction producer of good repute. Personally, I have absolutely no concerns about their integrity or credibility - they've all done incredible work.

But it is worth noting that Audio fiction is kinda odd, in that journalists, critics and producers all pretty much come from the same group of people. The honest fact is that Audio Fiction, as a beat, has pretty much no prestige, there are (currently) no publications that are dedicated to audio fiction coverage, and the whole sector is mostly considered an afterthought to the real podcast industry. So, the few people who do create audio fiction meta-content, even if they begin as separated from the industry, don't stay separated for long - they will start making contacts with producers, they may start finding people offering cameo roles in shows, and eventually, they'll consider moving into podcast production. If your requirement for a "credible" voice within audio fiction journalism is one that has absolutely no connections with any actual production, I'm sorry but that ain't happening - the scene is too small, and people move between production and commentary so often, that "true independence" isn't a thing.

With that said, these journalists do a lot to make their affiliations visible up front, which is the other way to manage conflicts of interest within the scene - by declaring them. I'd be a lot more suspicious of a journalist that doesn't put their affiliations up front, honestly.

The Rusty Quill Response

So, I wrote yesterday that I wasn't expecting a response from Rusty Quill for a good three days - they are a group, it takes time to coordinate a response, I figured I could relax for a bit. However, Rusty Quill has already produced a response, and that alone says something - it says that a single person has dictated this response. Considering the record speed, I also doubt that it has been looked over by anyone else. Knowing these things, I find it very likely that this is Alex Newall's response specifically, speaking for Rusty Quill, rather than one that that the leadership at Rusty Quill has worked on together.

I'm not going to go through the whole thing point by point - I don't have the time, and this post is already too long for most Tumblrites to consider going through it. But on a more general level, I find it interesting that the response contains not a single link, not a single pointer towards contrary evidence. Almost certainly this is due to the timeframe - were I in RQ's position, I would be going through our paperwork to find some boilerplate contracts to provide some counter-evidence to the article, or providing some financial details to show where the money is going, but finding, redacting, and publishing these things takes time. RQ has done none of this, and this isn't necessarily a point against them, but it does mean that Rusty Quill hasn't done much more than shout "Am not!" into the audience.

To talk about one specific point, I also find it interesting that, having been attacked on the subject of crew pay rates, they talk about how their cast have very good pay rates. This might be true, I don't have the resources to fact check that, and I hope it is - actors do deserve pay. But it is worth noting that actors are on a production for very little of the time - it's the editors, sound designers, musicians, transcribers, etc who put the most time on to a production. In general, you'd expect that the crew would be getting more money than the cast, because the crew is going to be putting in more time (although, fair's fair, the vast majority of audio fiction out there doesn't do this, because the only "crew" is the producer, who is usually financing the production out of their own pocket).

Questions?

So, I figure that if I'm putting myself out there, I might as well offer the opportunity for people to pick my brain. Have a question about Audio fiction production? Want to hear my explicit comments about something someone has said? My asks are open, I'll do my best to come back and answer any asks that come my way.

[jeahreading]

(Right I think It's time for me to finally get this over with )

Helloo and Welcome to my Blog, This is Primarily a Writer/readerBlr, but there are other things too(Particularly listening to podcasts ) since I can't be bothered to make a side one.

My reader side - I am an avid reader and am almost always in the middle of a book, I will be updating here on which books I'm reading

Current read list -

Dracula (Bram Stoker)

The Screaming Staircase (Jonathan Stroud)

A Dance with the Fae Prince (Elise Kova)

American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer (Kai Bird)

The Silver Birds (Apolline Lucy)

That Night (Nidhi Upadhyay)

The Complete Adventures of Feluda, Vol 1 (Satyajit Ray)

The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)

The God of Small Things (Arundhati Roy)

The War of Lanka (Amish Tripathi)

City of Bones (Cassandra Clare) [@1indigoisles don't kill me]

And that's all I can remember Right about now , Yes I'm reading 10 books or more simultaneously, no I do not have an explanation to that.

My main Genre is Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Mystery and thriller, But I do love widening my scope so do recommend me any books you might think may pique my interest. 😁

My reader side also includes me obsessing over podcasts, I'm including my Favourite podcasts here too, and I assure you they are amazing!

Podcasts for you - I usually listen to them on Spotify and love True crime, mystery, Murder mysteries etc. Here they are -

Rotten Mango by Stephanie Soo (True Crime) - I wouldn't suggest you listen to this if you get disgusted or scared easily, I usually am not affected by these kinds of things and I was still very disturbed, The first 2 episodes are quite... I would suggest you research about it more before you listen to it.

Baking a Murder by Stephanie Soo (Books and movies) - This podcast is again one of my favourites, the way she explains the movie is just so immersive, if you want to understand a story but don't have time to sit down and read the book/watch the movie then this is for you.

7 Suspects by Cryptic Radio(Murder Mystery ) - OH MY GOD, holy- this is probably one of the best mystery podcasts I've ever listened to, tbh you think you know what is going on and till the very end that is kinda sorta true, but then in the like the last 5 moments the plot twist so intense you are left sinking on to the floor thinking "What just happened", listen to, right now.

Magnus Archives by Rusty Quill (Story? horror? not sure what it comes under) - I've started listening to it after getting intense FOMO and can confirm it's going pretty well, I mean I have a LOT to catch up to, but I can say, it's caught my interest.

Murder in HR by Caspian Studios (Murder Mystery) - Again OH MY GOD, again, this is one of the best mystery podcasts I've ever listened to, I mean yeah, the gym ad thingy gets a little bit annoying but the rest of the story compensates for it, again, you think you know where you are going, again up until the very end you just don't know what the hell is going on, and again (Do you see a pattern) when the mystery hits you you are flabbergasted, soo I suggest give it a listen(also kinda obsessed with the soundtrack).

Murphy's Inc. by 97toNow Productions (Scifi mystery) - This is one of the better ones, I'm still listening to it and it's just actually really good, It's kinda the thing you listen to once a day, kinda relaxing (for me at least )

Ok, so this one is a bit different, there is a podcast Caso 63: Enigma: Spotify studios but it's in Spanish which I still haven't quite learnt and I didn't know this existed. I was recommended 2063 theke Esechi by Spotify Studios which is in Bengali which I do, in fact, understand. It was voiced by one of my favourite actors and I was absolutely in love with it, It feels like I wasn't listening to a podcast but a movie and there is so much confusion and so many twists. This podcast has been made in other languages as well, the other two ik are Case 63 (In English) and Virus 2062(In Hindi). So check it out!!

Treat by C13Features (Horror, gory) - This is like a podcast movie, it's around 2 hours long maybe? this is pretty good I would say, you can give it a listen.

Welcome to Night Vale by Night Vale Presents (Absurdity?) - I really don't think I need to say anythi_-_- HAIL THE GLOWCLOUD.

Morning Cup of Murder by Morning Cup of Murder (True Crime) - True crime yk...

The Sounds of Nightmares by Little Nightmares - Bandai Namco Europe (Horror, gore, mystery) - Uhh it's a little unnerving how detailed the actions of characters are As if they were compensating for the fact that there are no visuals, but it was pretty good I would say(Also like the soundtrack)

My writer side- My most popularly known name is Jeah (jee - ah) and I'll be using that here, I am a new author getting started on writing. I still have a looong way to go but, I enjoy writing very much even though my mind and body are definitely not on par with my will to write which is why my second unintended hobby is procrastination. Most of the time that I'm here on Tumblr I am supposed to be doing some other work, like right now.

Anywaysss here are my current WIP's

Mirror My Way - This is my first and only properly published Book. Tbh Not very proud of it, I did it in a hurry, because I took part in the school's Writing program, did nothing the whole year, and finished it in the last week, I honestly think It had potential but I kinda ruined it trying to finish it within the deadline. I wouldn't recommend you read it, It was supposed to be a part of a duology or trilogy but I think I'm just gonna let it sit in the corner for now, let it be there, think upon its mistakes, it did wrong 😤.

Tots and Coffee - Now this one I like better, this was actually inspired by the Scam Caller post here on Tumblr. Kinda had a sudden burst of inspiration and Wrote the first Chapter and since then it's still going pretty strong. Unlike the previous one, it is there on Ao3 if you wish to read it 😁.

I dunno what to call this but I occasionally write short stories in the replies of Pinterest pins when I come across writing prompts. This isn't a wip exactly but , I once posted the starting of a story and jokingly wrote "Continue-!" at the end thinking that would be the end of it, but someone did eventually continue it and that led to a string of events and a very weirdly Eledritch, beautiful Frankestine story formation, I'll be posting it slowly here on Tumblr as well, so keep checking!

Forgot to put it in earlier, but check out @the-writers-corner-inc It's a group blog I initiated, and you can find lots of fun stories, prompts, visuals and more!!

And that's about it, I don't what else to say, but while you're here, grab a cup of coffee or tea, pick out a book and read a page, I'm right here on the other side with a book as well, let's be booky buddies 😄😄😃😃🍵☕

[franzis-frantic-thoughts]

Hey TMA2 kickstarter backers?

Please, please, please don’t expect TMA themed dice when adding the “Rusty Quill Gaming Dice Set” by RQ and Dice Dungeon, as an add-on to your kickstarter backing.

There are no official TMA themed dice.

The dice set on offer, created in cooperation by Dice Dungeon UK, is the commemorative end-of-show merch for Rusty Quill’s first ever podcast.

It’s name was “Rusty Quill Gaming”, which might cause confusion since they’re now available on the TMA kickstarter, as "Rusty Quill Gaming” could be interpreted to mean “Rusty Quill themed gaming merch”, rather than being the name of a separate podcast.

Rusty Quill Gaming was an Actual Play podcast of Pathfinder (like DnD, but open source).

The campaign, GMed by Alex (Martin Blackwood in TMA), was titled “Erasing the Line” and ran for 7 years. The main campaign has 218 main-story episodes, a bunch of side quests, three epilogues, and there are many other bonus episodes on the feed.

RQG was, like I said, Rusty Quill’s first ever podcast and the reason RQ exists in the first place! If you listen to it, you’ll get some baked-in TMA ads in the first season’s episodes as they were getting ready to release it! (Nothing quite compares to listen to a fun Christmas special featuring Spice Girls themed goblins and then having Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, complain about non-digitiseable statements...)

RQG is truly amazing and features TMA-stars Lydia Nicholas (Melanie King in TMA) and Ben Meredith (Elias Bouchard in TMA) as incredibly talented roleplayers, alongside Helen Gould (Enthusigasm and Melanie’s Therapist Laverne in TMA), Bryn Monroe (the Science guy from the Stellar Firma Feed and one of the MAG100 statement givers) and James Ross (fantastic stand-up comedian and also a MAG100 statement giver).

Give it a listen to, if you’re into found family, bickering, adventures, steampunk, comedy, heartfelt dialogue, wordplay, good times, any of these voice actors... just go listen to it, it’s worth it!

The dice are inspired by these players and characters. So while some of the icons may be connectable to TMA - and we all know how much the TMA Fandom loves redstringing - they are actually unrelated.

By all means, get the dice if you want them! I have preordered them months ago when they were first advertised and am very much looking forward to having them in my hands despite the additional delay.

I just don’t want anyone to think that these are TMA-themed dice and then get disappointed.

[rqgender]

can today's gender be Time Horses (woe begone)

Sadly, these only take from the Rusty Quill Originals! I have limited time and have a very large number of podcasts to catch up on and apart from the originals there are THIRTY FOUR SHOWS THAT ARE JUST PRODUCED BY RUSTY QUILL?!?! (wtf how are there so many) so I will likely not be adding those to the rotation. So, for the time being (and at least until the 400th gender post, which will be about a month from now probably?) I will only be doing the Rusty Quill Originals (mainly The Magnus Archives, Rusty Quill Gaming, Stellar Firma, Chapter and Multiverse, and Thrice Forgotten, because those ones I've listened to more than the others). I hope you can understand! However, today's gender can definitely be honourarily Time Horses.

-Emrys

[pocketfullofarchivists]

thanks to Rusty Quill (and yes, adding them as the only way to distinguish proper podcast) I was listening to The Program for the last three days

It is absolutely brilliant and I love it so far. I am absolutely hating the name. Guys, why? why do you hate yourself so much? Do you even know how many results you can get for “the program podcast”? And! how many you can’t get for “the program”?

even the long-ass anime novel names pattern would work better.

The Program vs Humanity Is Utopia Now But Whose In Charge And How It Happened

would be better

[thechekhov]

So hey. Rusty Quill Gaming ended. 

I finally got a chance to listen to the last episode a week or so ago.

And... that epilogue (at least the first part of it) has me feeling some sort of ways.

(spoilers for RQG end + Epilogue ahead)

Where to begin...

I think I’ll begin with - I really loved that campaign as a whole. I loved the characters, and I loved the progression of the story, and so of course I hated to see it end. I think that’s a common issue for many things, and it doesn’t reflect badly on the podcast itself, regardless of how negative my feelings may be.

At the same time I have to admit a weakness and say that ‘all the magic is now purged from the world’ is one of my least favorite tropes in magical storytelling. I understand why it may make sense thematically. I understand WHY people are drawn to that ending in some circumstances. I understand that jokes about how magic builds reliance have their place, and how it’s a valid reading. 

And yet.

The fact that the world went mundane and all the characters (save for Hamid) seem to have moved on relatively quickly and without issue feels like such a slap in the face. 

I don’t mean ‘moved on’ in the technical sense. I understand that the epilogue dealt with many fallouts of the world having to adjust to loss of magic. I appreciated the details added into that - the fact that communication has slowed, the fact that mass production has slowed, the fact that travel without use of Elementals has become a problem... Those are all very cool things to see in a worldbuilding sense. 

But I feel that, aside from Hamid, none of the players have bothered to draw any attention to the emotional fallout of removing magic from the world wholesale.

Magic, which is a historically powerful, well researched and well known study of energy and matter, and the interaction of the real world and those beyond. Magic, which was some people’s life work - and some people’s life blood. 

Einstein was a Wizard, for fuck’s sake. This was his whole LIFE. Yes, he is a bit wonky at this point in his life anyway thanks to magic, so he may be adjusting to this on a skewed scale. 

And yes, Azu is the most emotionally adjusted of all of them so I can forgive her dealing with her lack of connection to her deity in private. 

Yes, Zolf has always been an emotionally constipated asshole, and YES, he has had AMPLE experience with loss and grief, and this is not his first rodeo, so he is probably better equipped to handle this than most.

Even Wilde, who is a powerful bard in his own right, used his magic as a support for his other talents, and has things to fall back on which are not built entirely on magic. 

But Hamid? Holy fuck, Hamid. Magic was him.

He is the YOUNGEST of all of them. Before beginning to discover his magical abilities, he didn’t have anything to call his own except his family’s money. He didn’t have anything he could be proud of - indeed he was deeply ashamed of the person he had become. He built his whole identity, his whole pride, on the basis of his draconic bloodline. 

Magic - his birthright, his connection to his adventuring career, his reason to keep going - was torn from him and now he is just. Existing. 

And damn, that hurts.

Maybe I’m reaching here, maybe I’m projecting my own dependencies onto this sad little character. But I feel like people often underplay the importance of magic in a world that has co-evolved with it for so long, as has become so deeply entwined with its history, its cultures, its way of life. 

It’s not just a shortcut for lazy wizards - it’s something they studied, understood, worked years of their life into. It’s not simply something that makes their life easier, it’s not a deus ex machina generator for real-life problems. It’s something that has literally existed alongside physics, and something as integral to their world as gravity is to ours. 

I am an artist, at heart. I don’t pretend to be particularly exemplary at it - I didn’t go to art school. I just loved to draw. It was something I connected with early on, something that I called my own, and something I would always come back to as a form of self expression. 

I keep imagining a world in which I had gone on a quest to save everything I’d known - and had unwittingly sacrificed art in the process. 

I think about coming back into a world devoid of art. I think about realizing I could not draw - would never draw again. I think about flipping open empty comic books, trying to remember what they looked like. I think about stores, and libraries, and museums - empty of illustrations. I think about caves where the paintings of our ancestors have ceased to exist - our connection of them forever lost to time. 

What would that be like? To lose a part of yourself so integral to your identity that it feels like the part of you that kept you alive has been wiped blank? How would you feel if the world simply tried to keep going? Would you have the strength to turn to something else, to try to find something new? Or would the betrayal of losing decades of your purpose sting? 

In the epilogue, there was a gentle hint that Hamid avoids drinking now. I would not be surprised if it was the result of turning to drinking early on in that first year without magic. I can very easily imagine him feeling lost and alone, and wanting nothing but the numbness. 

And I am glad that a few others seemed to have noticed it somewhat, but I feel like the weight of that sort of thing is nowhere near done being discussed. I hope it isn’t. I hope we hear how the others may have dealt with it. I hope we hear how Wilde can no longer make illusions. I hope we understand how Azu dealt with losing her friend Topaz, and her god, and her healing. I hope we get a glimpse into that world, and the suffering that rift had caused. 

Because damn, it deserves mention.

[commander-diomika]

Pspsps come get your angst and inevitable betrayals. (Part One) (Part Two) Part 3 - Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Rating: Upped to Mature for graphic depiction of blood/injuries Word Count: ~2200 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Rating Will Change to Explicit in Later Parts, Opposites Attract, Blood and Injury, Angst

Summary: "The longer they stayed, the more it delayed real progress on the mission. Hope had borne them this long, but Zolf knew by the heaviness in his heart, it was time to consider saying goodbye. In more ways than one.

He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Wilde that it was time to stop gambling on the chance that they might see the party again. There was a tragedy in the shape of an executioner’s axe hanging over them both, and Zolf was about to give the nod to drop it."

It's all fun and games until someone loses their smile.

Six days after Bosie’s arrival.

Zolf was walking back to the safe house from the temple of Hephaestus. It had been locked up tight, and there was no response to his hammering on the door.

I think it might be time to move on from this city, he thought. The ringing of his unanswered knocks at the temple had rung with a kind of finality. Both he and Wilde had held on here longer than they should, making any excuse they could to stay put in their current safehouse. Hoping to hear from Hamid and Sasha. Zolf and Wilde clung to Damascus, praying that any day word would come through. If they just stayed in the last place the other party members had been seen, it might make them easier to find. Hoping, hoping, hoping.

But the longer they stayed, the more it delayed real progress on the mission. Hope had borne them this long, but Zolf knew by the heaviness in his heart, it was time to consider saying goodbye. In more ways than one.

He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Wilde that it was time to stop gambling on the chance that they might see the party again. There was a tragedy in the shape of an executioner’s axe hanging over them both, and Zolf was about to give the nod to drop it.

“Ho, Wilde!” Zolf called, coming through the door. He sighed as he unslung his pack from his shoulders, thinking about how best to broach it.

When a few silent moments passed, Zolf surfaced from the depths of his thoughts, noticing that there was no response from within the townhouse. “Douglas?” he added uncertainly.

There was every chance the two of them were cozied up in Wilde’s room again. Zolf had seen a lot less of Wilde this week than usual, and he wasn’t looking forward to prying Wilde out of his torrid nest to have a hard conversation. Whilst it wasn’t any of Zolf’s business who Wilde took to bed, it was Zolf’s business that Wilde was... distracted. And if Wilde was planning on keeping Bosie around...

Depressed about the notion of so many hard conversations threatening, Zolf clanged his glaive into the weapons rack in the entry hall and threw down his bag, heading to the sitting room.

Shock has a way of warping perception, of making a mind skitter when it should seize. For instance, as he reached the door, the first thing that Zolf noticed was that the settee was the wrong colour, instead of Wilde’s bloodied body atop it.

Zolf swore, feeling like his legs wouldn’t respond, like everything moved slowly as the view properly hit him.

It felt like an age before he could move. Wilde’s upper half was drenched in blood, the couch dark and dripping with it.

“Wilde?” Zolf asked, almost inanely, as if expecting a response. Wilde had fallen back as if pushed, limbs splayed. The blood was leaking from multiple messy slices across his torso, darkening the soft turquoise shirt to a purple-black. That was shocking enough, but the real horror was Wilde’s cheek, sliced from temple to lips in a vicious, loose flap. Already Zolf was pulsating with healing light as he ran over, years of combat experience overriding the dumb shock. He nearly slipped in the growing pool of blood.

The wave of power emanating from Zolf slid like oil around Wilde’s body, none of it sinking it.

The cuffs! Zolf could have screamed. He yanked up the hems of Wilde’s pants. He snapped the cuffs off with strangely steady hands and blasted the man with magic.

“Don’t move!” Zolf cried. Can he move? Will he move? Zolf’s hands were slick within moments of touching Wilde’s face, the blood still oozing from the wound. Zolf’s stomach lurched, but he remained focused. He drew the two loose parts of Wilde’s cheek together before slamming more magic through it, his mind a horrified buzz. The point of a safehouse was that it was safe!

Wilde was trying to speak.

“Don’t! Just let me- don’t talk, Wilde, just wait.” There was so much blood- this kind of precision surgical work was better done by, well, surgeons, not hackneyed ex clerics who weren’t even sure why their magic still worked.

Zolf felt the loose pieces of skin begin to knit themselves back together beneath his hands, and no more blood flowed from the chest wounds. Zolf had a brief and horrifying flashback to Sasha, in pieces, her organs floating like a halo around her lifeless body. He didn’t want to keep getting his friends' blood on his hands, even if it was in the service of saving them.

Wilde weakly tried to push Zolf’s hands away and went to speak again through the ruin of his face.

“Don’t worry about me,” he managed this time. “Go after Bosie!”

“Stop! Talking!” Zolf replied, besides himself with anger, incredibly relieved that Wilde was conscious. “Wait- Bosie did this?”

Wilde was awake enough to hold a hand over his cheek and sit up. His face was painted stark red from the bridge of the nose down. His head had slumped to one side, wound facing up, blood flowing down; the effect was like he was wearing a shiny maroon bandana over nose and mouth. But his eyes were remarkably clear and angry.

“Yes. I don’t know- he turned, it wasn’t him anymore, or something took over him. He tried to take me with him and I- I fought back and-” Wilde went to stand, hand still clasped over his face. “I think he heard you- shit, Zolf.” Wilde’s eyes flicked around frantically, looking for the man who attacked him.

“Easy, easy.” Zolf stopped Wilde from rising and as he did, Wilde’s fire seemed to go out. Zolf kept talking. “It’s alright. It’s not important right now.” Zolf’s gut swooped with guilt as he looked at the wound. He’d gotten here just in time, but Wilde wasn’t walking away from this without scarring. “Just let me take care of it, ok?”

Zolf reached and cupped Wilde’s bloody cheek in one hand. Wilde half-closed his eyes and leant into the touch, breathing shakily. Zolf had been about to push more healing magic through the cheek, but he froze at the sensation of Wilde’s lips and breath against his blood-slick hand. Alive. Zolf had gotten here in time and his droll, irritating, shallow co-conspirator was alive.

Suddenly Wilde’s eyes flew open. “No!” he shouted and leapt to his feet, knocking Zolf’s hand aside. He looked completely deranged. “Get away!” Zolf backed up a few steps, hands outstretched as if he were taming a wild animal.

“I- Argh! He was infected!” Wilde clenched the tattered shirt to his chest, as though trying to hold his whole self together. “We spent this whole week together, in bed, fucking, kissing! You need to stay away!”

The wind went completely out of Zolf’s sails, his breath leaving him in an instant. Wilde was only semi-conscious and still reeling. Zolf would be impressed at Wilde’s acumen whilst distressed, if the point he had made wasn’t completely terrifying. Zolf took a few steps backward without realising.

“Wait, Wilde, just wait.” Zolf was still catching up. “You said, he tried to take you away. If you were already infected all he had to do was wait, righ’? A week, Curie said, all of her double agents lasted less than a week before they turned on people.”

“We can’t know that! Maybe he was just getting a head start! Fuck!” Wilde’s cheek started to bleed again with the strength of his swear.

Zolf had backed all the way to the other side of the room, only noticing when his arse gently bumped the wall. “The cuffs, Wilde.” He was grasping, but he desperately needed to find the right words to say to take that hellish look off Wilde’s face. “If it’s at all magical in nature, maybe the cuffs protected you.”

Wilde’s head snapped around frantically. In the carnage, he hadn’t realised they’d been taken off. He spotted them, discarded by the low table and moved to them.

“Wait, at least let me-” Unwilling to come closer, Zolf simply radiated as much healing as he could muster. Wilde, eyes unfathomably dark, nodded his thanks as he snapped the cuffs back on. He’d been on the brink for a moment there, terror threatening to snap him, but Zolf’s words, and the Stockholm-syndrome familiarity of the weight around his ankles had brought him back from whatever edge he’d been teetering on.

Wilde’s mouth twisted. He’d taken as much healing as Zolf could jam into him, but the scar was there to stay. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Zolf, you’re going to go up to my room and bar the window. I don’t care how you do it, move a wardrobe over it, stone shape it, whatever, but make it tight. Then I am going to go into that room, shut the door-” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “-and wait for seven days.”

Zolf gulped. “Righ-…. Right. That’s a good idea. I can bring you food and-”

“No. No food.” Wilde snapped. “No opening the door. Not if I beg, not if I scream. Not for anything.”

Zolf’s mouth was agape, trying desperately to catch up to Wilde, to meet him wherever he had gone. “No food? Don’t be daft, you’ll die.”

Wilde’s head snapped to the side, then to the other. It was unclear if he was shaking his head or simply processing with his whole skull. “No, I won’t. I’ll need water but I can live without food, or whatever we’ve got in the house. What are you waiting for? Do it now!” His demeanor had snapped from terror to fury. “Every second we waste dithering about it makes it more likely that this could take you too!”

Zolf obeyed. His hands had started to shake as the crest of the crisis passed, and he stilled them by taking action. He washed the blood off himself and dutifully collected all the vases from about the place to fill with water, grabbing any food in the kitchen that wasn’t raw ingredients. It amounted to some bread and dried fruit, but Zolf was still obscenely grateful there was any ready-to-eat food in there at all. The horror inherent to spending seven days alone in a single room was starting to spread like a dark inkblot in his mind. He kept moving, as if he could outrun a stain.

It was trivial to stone shape the window closed; the townhouse wasn’t particularly big or lavish. When he stepped out of the room, Zolf was met with the ghoulish sight that was Wilde waiting for him down the corridor. He had put a jacket over his slashed shirt but hadn’t even tried to clean the blood off his face.

Zolf paused in the door, looking Wilde over. “Curie said something about- about blue veins?” he said softly. He didn’t want to ask. The last thing he wanted to say was I told you so.

“What? Everyone’s veins are blue.” Wilde’s voice was flat, emotionless. Shock was setting in properly, Zolf diagnosed.

“I dunno. It weren’t clear, but… did you notice anything? On Bosie.” It felt horrible pushing Wilde right now, but knowledge was power. Wilde in his right mind would understand.

Wilde’s eyes shifted in either shock or deception. “No. I didn’t. But we spent a lot of time with the lights off.” Wilde gave his head a little shake, as if to dislodge a memory... or stop one from surfacing.

More than the blood, it was the blankness on Wilde’s face that was most unsettling. Zolf couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Wilde without a smirk or an arched brow or, more frequently these days, a soft little smile, usually when he thought Zolf wasn’t paying attention.

“What’s done is done. Worry about the “how” if I come out the other side of this.” Wilde took a step forward, waiting for Zolf to back off. “Go to the end of the corridor. Once I’m inside, I’ll shut the door. Bar it from the outside.” Metres between them, they performed a grotesque mockery of a tango step, Zolf stepping back, Wilde stepping forward. When Wilde reached the door, he stared into his room.

“And Zolf?” Wilde didn't look over at him, considering the darkness inside as though it held a secret. Perhaps pondering the poetic implications that his love den of the last week was to be his prison for the next.

“Yeh?” Zolf knew this had to happen. Knew it was a good idea. But gods, he wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy. Wilde had just been betrayed in the most vile way, and now he had to sit in the dark with that for a week. Zolf hadn’t wanted Douglas around, but he certainly hadn’t wanted this.

“At the end of these seven days... if it’s not me in there-” Wilde finally tore his eyes away from the room and turned his gaze to Zolf’s. “-if I’m, monstrous or sick, if I try to hurt you...” He didn’t finish the thought.

“I won’t let you.” Zolf whispered through dry lips. Wilde didn’t have spell it out; they understood each other well enough by now.

Wilde nodded once, satisfied, and stepped into the dark.

[thevoidcannotbefilled]

I am currently listening to rusty quill gaming pod because I don’t want to re-listen to TMA just yet. They are just now adding teaser trailers for TMA and wow baby John and baby voices and I just.... I need someone to tell this to lol I love TMA and I can’t believe how far they’ve all come

Firstly, RQG good!!!!! It's made me cry three times, and laugh so so many more. Hope you enjoy!!!

But yeah;;; when I first listened to rqg and listened to the trailers, 1) "we're bringing in a brand new horror podcast" oh yes Alex please do tell me about this new project, I'd love to hear about it and 2) the difference between stuffy, season 1 Jon and S4/S5 Jon is SO MUCH. It's so good.

[fictitiousponies]

Rusty Quill Official: My thoughts

First I’d like to point out that I’m literally a nobody. I’m not a mod, I’m not a crew member of Rusty Quill, I am literally just someone who hangs out in the Rusty Quill Official discord (I AM a patron though, so I do have access to the Patron only channels). 

I’ve been seeing the people that are in this ‘group of 10 or 11 people’ stir things up in the server for a while now, and I thought I’d just give my own experiences and thoughts on the subject.  Firstly, the fact that I even have to ‘give my credentials’ about this is ridiculous, but these are the type of people who if you aren’t ‘xyz’ and you disagree with anything they say, you are automatically deemed racist, homophobic, ableist, sexist, etc etc, so I’d just like to point out I am a queer woman with both mental and physical health disorders and disabilities. I’m also white, cis and allo, so I do admit there are only so many things I feel comfortable commenting on without getting piled on for ‘not being allowed’ or ‘not understanding’ (because thats 100% what the folks who are responsible for that doc do in the discord) First of all, I’d like to discuss the fact that the RQO server has grown RAPIDLY in the last few months. I don’t have access to the statistics but I’ve seen them in the past, and the server went from less than 2000 people to over 8000 in a matter of like two or three months. The mods of this server are all volunteer, besides a select few(Anil(Community Manager), Bryn(who is a voice actor/talent for Rusty Quill Gaming) and now Autumn, who literally was just announced as Anil’s new assistant community manager YESTERDAY. Before yesterday, April, the production manager, was also a Mod. Besides those people NO ONE works for rusty quill. Everyone is a volunteer and a fan. Rusty quill is a SMALL PODCAST COMPANY that has seen a rapid growth of their fanbase over the last 9 or so months. They have stated many many times that they are working behind the scenes to plan a server overhaul, and have given us a suggestion form. They all work very hard to try and make RQO a place where people feel safe. There are topics of conversation that NEED a more intense style of modding to be handled correctly, and at the current moment they don’t have the ability to do that so that things can be discussed safely for everyone involved. They have stated multiple times that is being worked on as something for the server revamp, and it just seems to not click. There are conversations that happen in this server that they have a problem with getting ‘sideswept’ that I KNOW make MANY people uncomfortable, and that is mainly the policing of headcanons. Saying ‘it makes me uncomfortable when Elias/Jonah is portrayed as trans or gay’ is one thing. Its completely another to call someone who HC’s Elias/Jonah as trans or gay as transphobic or homophobic, use vomit emojis and basically sit there and completely bash someone for having that headcanon, which is what tends to happen and makes people SUPER uncomfortable, causing the mods to come in and go ‘okay enough of this’ (but they didnt screenshot themselves being nasty because why would they?) They also straight up bash you if you like certain characters, Daisy and Gertrude being two main ones I’ve seen. I understand the discourse surrounding Daisy, I really do, but to be treated like the scum of the earth for daring to like Daisy as a character, for automatically being labeled as racist or pro-cop just because you enjoy a FICTIONAL CHARACTER is...absolutely ridiculous. Its THIS that the mods are reacting to, NOT calling the characters themselves out. Its them blatantly being rude and making people uncomfortable about liking a fictional character.  Another thing I’d like to address is the server being ‘ableist’  towards people with ADHD by being strict about going off topic. This is something I’ve been EXTREMELY vocal about myself, as someone with ADHD, I DO feel frustrated with the fact that if things veer off topic we get told to take it to another channel. Its jarring, as someone who tends to go on tangents and it doesn’t feel great but I understand the need for it. There are specific channels for a reason. Just because something inconveniences you doesn’t mean its automatically ableist. if every conversation was allowed to run rampant in every channel it would be chaos. AS IT IS so many of the channels are far too busy for my liking and I don’t feel comfortable in them with the amount of people (something that has zero to do with the way RQO runs the server and everything to do with the fact that its just a very large server with a lot of people) I tend to like to stay in the Patreon section because its much smaller and calmer. Also the Gen channels for me(General, Court of Nobles) are great because unless its something super specific(a long discussion about food, a specific character discussion, etc etc) there isn’t a topic to follow, therefor my ADHD can run free. Thats just...how things have to be sometimes. Once again its something thats been told is being worked on for the server revamp, possibly adding more gen channels or such things because the server is getting so large. I’m sure there are other things I could address here, but Honestly I am tired. I’ve been in a LOT of Discords only to nope out of them within a few weeks because I don’t feel safe or welcome. Rusty Quill Official is the first server I’ve been in where I don’t feel like I am just a number, just a nameless fan, despite how large the server is. Its the first large server where I feel like I have a sense of belonging. Its a place I hold very dear to my heart. It might not be for everyone. It might not be everyones cup of tea, I certainly don’t blame the servers I’ve left for not being something I vibe with, but to hear it be ‘called out’ and bashed like this is really sad, especially when SO MANY of the screenshots were taken out of context/not shown the whole story/had bits cut out that would importantly show another side to everything.  To call the RQO server an unsafe space would be extremely unjust. If its not something you enjoy, then thats unfortunate. There are opportunities for you to maybe meet people in the discord that you vibe with and break off to your own smaller server. Thats perfectly valid, and in now way us telling you to ‘leave if you dont like it’. Do what makes YOU comfortable, but to continuously cause issues and drama on purpose when things have been addressed and you simply dont like the answer... Its not fair to everyone else on the discord who IS having a good time. Allow Rusty Quill time to grow with its fanbase. There are going to be hiccups. There are going to be snags. People are HUMAN and to expect things to be Absolutely Completely Unproblematic Or Else is unrealistic. Things ARE being addressed. things ARE being worked on.  Thats all I’ve got to say. 

[jorts-lad]

If you haven’t already, may I suggest watching the the post TMA episode 200 live stream. You can find it on the past live streams on the Rusty Quill twitch page. It’s a great time and many fun chats about the show from many of the people at Rusty Quill. If you need more of a reason below I have some fun quotes throughout all 3 parts of the stream.

Slight tangent before that, I do suggest continuing watch their streams, they are pretty great and also if you haven’t yet the other RQ podcasts are amazing.

I might not have the exact quotes but eh, I got them mostly.

In character Among Us (Start)

- “I realize we could end up with like 10 Martins at this point, or 10 Johns, but I feel like that will add to the drama”

- “I hate it already”

- “And it will give Robbin Lennox more screen time then he did in the show so it will be really good!”

- “Hey everybody look at me, I’m hot, I’m the fun one, I’m sexy. Sexy Tim.”

- “Keep adding to canon, that’s right, keep adding canon”

- “Your voice has changed a lot over the years, it’s like you’ve lost track of it”. “I’ve started smoking *laughter*”

- “i like fan fic”

- “All season 1 Tim round”

- “You mean a notTim?”

- “What a Tim to be alive”

- “We can’t have John as the imposter because you’d always hear from a distant corner of the ship, ‘Ceaseless Watcher’ ”

- “If I were the Corruption I guess I would just say, *corruption noises*”

- “Enjoy space black?”

- “That’s the key with Elias, just very British”

- “Hot John rights”

- “This is Elias Shiteatinggrin Bouchard”

- “I don’t suppose there’s an open position at the Archive?”. “Fun-ally enough there’s quite a few”

Jackbox

- “Aww, I love those” “Motion Sickness?” “Yeh”

- “I refuse to say Dino Nuggies”

- “So how is everyone?”

- “I cyber bully Martyn a lot”

- Question: A rejected fear from Smirke’s list. Answers: Vacuuming or The Fandom

- “I’m not voting for either because I don’t understand either joke!”

- “Alex told me to turn it on” “Alex isn’t the boss of you!”

- Question: Ah, yes, Elias Bouchard’s only weakness: Answers: Loose Morals and Fast Women or Mirrors and Thigh High Boots

- Question: What did Martyn photoshop Alex as this time? Answers: The Entire Cast of Glee or A Dinonuggie

- “Keen as mustard”

- “I really thought I had it with Senpai”

- “Hello, I’m Alasdair, the unsung hero of The Magnus Archives.”

- “In a real way aren’t you always playing Helen?”

- Question: It’s all fun and games until Daisy... Answers: Runs Out of Bullets or Kills a Cockney Delivery Driver

- “Wow. Wow. Wow. Jonathan.”

- “I took over the Stellar Firma transcripts and I come into the series at episode 60, I have no idea what the hell is going on. And then I have to describe the noise Tim makes with his mouth.” “It’s technically called speech I think”

- “Someone in the chat said, ‘Content warning: Tim Meredith’”.

- “Original recording of Rick Astley doing what?”

- Question: Martin’s favorite sweater had THIS written on it: Answers: This is what a Tea-Drinker Looks Like or Twink

- “I forgot about the good cows” “How could you forget about the good cows?!”

- “Crawdaddy”

- Not a quote but all i’m gonna say is, Autumn PHRASING

- “Alex. But wrong”

- “Content Warning: Daddies”

- “Martin wearing a shirt that says ‘Tea Daddy’”

- “The two genders: Crawdaddies and Regular Daddies.”

- “It’s alright it’s just a podcast” jonny please don’t i’ll start aggressively crying at you.

- *Jonny and Sasha discus what they are gonna eat for dinner*

- *Jonny messing everything up*

- “I used to play Martin, but ya know”

- “Oh wait does that mean Tim is now kayaking with John and Martin?” STOP IM CRYING

- “Do you here the raw capitalism in his voice”

- “Aw Daisy Chains”. “That’s not what it says”. “That’s what I choose to read”

- *everyone making Alex uncomfortable with words*

- “Oops all Ben”

The Huge Chinking’ Quiz of the Season (End)

- *everyone ominously saying Martyn*

- “Episode 69” “And what is the title of that one?” “Nice”

- “Jacky-B”

- “It’s just a spin off where nothing bad happens and ya’ know cause like Gerry Keay said the fears were the only entity and I said no, fuck you that’s wrong”

- “Alexander J. Bone”

- “Dino nuggets”

- *zooms in on Mike’s face* “You’re doing what? On my stream!”

- “Magns Achves”

- *extended sounds of chicken noises*

- “Spider [nonbinary] is my gender”

- “Over 9,000?”

- “Everyone go home Twitch is over”

- “Tim, I mean Mike”

- “Can we not make Tim a verb”

- “Swoon, swoon, swoon, Adelard Dekker”

- “not a soup store, just soup!”

- *talking about Jonah Magnus* “Cause he’s a bitch!”

- “You can’t just pop in a contact lens, ya got to bring in the whole man”

- “I was covered in disinfectant before I stroked him”

- “Don’t just straps your friends down and pull things out of them, I guess”

- “Rusty Quill Streams is a podcast”

- “Rusty asmr hours”

- “Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze aping these ribs!”

- “The Twilight universe is actually set in the Magnus universe” *disapproving* “NO”

- “I thought you said Shrek shaved her”

- “how’s it feel to get the last line in the show?” “VINDICATION”

- “And for the last time, Statement Ends”

[hellotrickster]

Some podcast recs. Not by any means an exhaustive list! I’ll probably end up adding more and more.

The Magnus Archives

Horror drama masquerading as a horror anthology. Very incredible plotting and character writing, QUEER PROTAGONIST AND DEUTERAGONIST. It’s my favorite. It’s taught me about having hope again in the darkest of circumstances, and the knowledge that horror and tragedy can be cathartic, when done right. I’m still reeling on the floor from all of it.

The Penumbra Podcast: Juno Steel

Depressed bisexual nb detective Juno Steel solves mysteries and murders with sarcastic one-liners he practices in the mirror in a queer cyberpunk future on Mars as he tangles with a clever thieves, ancient alien telepathy, rogue cybernetics, his own trauma and survivor’s guilt, giant sewer rabbits, politicians and mobsters out to get him, and trying to look cool.

The Penumbra Podcast: Second Citadel

A collection of knights and knights-to-be and the monsters that they hunt in a series of rotating stories that eventually unifies all of them. We’ve got queer characters and characters with disabilities, enemies to lovers, a singing castle, a polycule, and a secret inverted pretending to be married, scalies. It’s a delight, and definitely reminds me of a more ensemble-variant of Xena.

Wolf 359

Found family IN SPACE but also like roommates who want to kill each other. Starts out fairly lighthearted and turns into an epic story that destroys you and remakes you and then grinds you apart again. Survival on a station many light years from earth is tough! Also lots of contemplation of personhood, agency, and spaaaaaace. Badass ladies, banter, suffering, love, a plant monster.

Zero Hours

Gabriel Urbina back at it again in an anthology that visits the end of the world — over and over again, each time a hundred years apart, spanning the 1700s to the far future. Sometimes hopeful, sometimes hurtful, it left me feeling grateful to exist. Featuring beloved voice actors from a bunch of other podcasts on this list, it’s a wonderful work of art (though thematically may be a little difficult right now, so please take care.)

Kane & Feels

Horror-urban-fantasy-noir! Lucifer Kane and Brutus Feels are paranormal investigators who deal with problems in the veil between worlds. Of everything on this list, it feels the most like a graphic novel and is fun as hell. Sometimes it’s a little tricky to tell what’s going on but goddamn does it have so much style and fun.

Archive 81

Each season is remarkably different from the one before. In a lot of ways, it’s almost a Lovecraftian adventure series, with parallel worlds and dark rituals with the grimmest of prices exacted. What’s particularly powerful about it is its quality audio and foley design. The intricacies of the rituals in season three compared with the rituals in The Magnus Archives will make you laugh and laugh and laugh.

Wooden Overcoats

Tim Burton-y or Addams Family British comedy about rival funeral parlors. Feels like it should be animated by Don Bluth. It’s very unfortunate and very hilarious, and you might end up wanting all the characters to be happy somehow. The voice acting quality is so polished and phenomenal.

Victoriocity

Steampunk London! Tom Crowley — certified Handsome Voice Eric Chapman in Wooden Overcoats — is here as Inspector Fleet who ends up embroiled in trying to solve a massive conspiracy mystery with the intrepid journalist Clara Entwhistle. Another audio delight, with great comedic beats and fascinating world building. Lots of crime solving hijinks and teamwork, though Inspector Fleet is very reluctant at first to be part of a crime-solving partnership.

Girl in Space

Scientist found family revolution. It’s basically a bottle episode science fiction film, but it’s so sincere and kind I really adore it. X is a scientist surviving alone in a spaceship whose favorite movie is Jurassic Park, and who could really use a friend. Hopepunk to its toes, with the belief in the dignity of every person.

I Am In Eskew

Lovecraftian horror city setting, described in the dreamily calm voice of David Ward. Relaxing horror, with lovely prose and really creative concepts, backdropped by a steady rain. At times totally grotesque, but at the same time really soothing. Excellent for relaxing, since David does not seem shocked or surprised by anything that goes on, and deals with things as logically as living in a non-Euclidean world allows.

D&D and Tabletop

Rusty Quill Gaming

Yes, you know you need it in your life. Fictional steampunk London in which D&D races exist, Greek gods are real, and the world is ruled by a group of dragons called the Meritocrats. Starring: an ex-pirate dwarf cleric of Poseidon, a halfling Egyptian sorcerer, a slippery bundle of knives of a person, and a pompous idiot from the House of Lords whose worst fear is “the poors.” Eventually also a six-foot orc paladin of Aphrodite in bright glowing pink armor, a goblin paladin that will shoot off your kneecaps, and an alchemist that is a cross between Gambit and Jillian Holtzmann. You’ll learn how evil Alex J Newall is, and it’s wonderful.

Campaign Podcast: Skyjacks

Piracy has taken flight as four idiots try to Weekend At Bernie’s their dead captain and sail their airship to riches and adventure. Worth it especially for Gable, a seven-foot-tall non-binary immortal who can’t flirt for SHIT, but I love everybody in their little family. Lots of great improv and group-built storytelling, lots of goofs.

[ofstarstuff]

How have I not listened to The Magnus Archives until now. How. I know there are only so many hours in a day, but this is exactly the type of horror I love. It leaves just enough to the imagination and the voice and sound work are really, really good.

For anyone looking for it, the best way to listen on a desktop, for me, is through Spotify. Podcasts don’t force you to listen to Spotify’s ads if you have a free account, and it’s much easier to sort than on Rusty Quill’s website itself.

The lore is so deep and complex and rich but you can also listen to episodes casually, as isolated tales, so don’t let the sheer volume of content put you off--but if you are looking for many hours of audio entertainment and you like horror, this is the podcast for you.

[shy-magpie]

RQG 73

We rejoin our heroes bursting through the gate of a spooky house after hearing a scream I like the image of Bertie opening the gate as Sasha was climbing it Sasha hopes for a bat large enough to ride and climbs the outside of the building towards the scream, thus avoiding a lot of potential traps and nonsense. Sasha sees furniture covered in sheets; team speculates it's the ghosts of all the furniture Bertie has destroyed Sasha is a great scout Hamid give your scout a minute before using acid splash to break in, before she can report Splitting up the party works better for tanks than magic halflings Covering ground is secondary to not dying, Grizzop Sasha throws cards at the back of their heads to get their attention rather than yelling and alerting the enemy Bertie uses his boots to fly up to the window and break in Grizzop don't split the party, I'm trusting you to guard Hamid Bertie why don't you give that ring to Hamid, and he can decide when to attract zombies to the team Useful sword is useful or would be if they had any meat on hand Vitally challenged. Oh good Sasha talked him into handing over the ring. “Don't mind me, *rolls dice*” gets my vote for scariest line of the episode Bertie attacks the ceiling rather than wait for them to find a way into the attic Bertie uses his knowledges,  Alex has fun listing Gothic clichés Bertie is a good meat shield Eh good press is a fair price for him being so cheerful about being their meat shield. Does make you wonder if the sword prioritizes Bertie "looking brilliant" or living though Not being turned to is a small price for constantly teasing the GM, Bryn Grizzop, promise me you'll remember that you use a ranged weapon and not die of wandering off on your own 5 minutes after joining the team. *still not officially, twitches* I don't want to miss the opera but saving time is second to not splitting the party in a scary mansion *ad break, Rusty Quill offers to teach me history, was that Bryn as a voice actor?* Screaming specter(wraith?) did something new and lowered Bertie's max hit points instead of just damaging him. I still don't get different types of damage; is it more or less geeky if you learn about RPG systems without having plans to play? Sword is being useful and gives us a description of the  enemy Wraith gets a Natural 1, I don't think the dice like it when Alex makes a nasty baddie Daggers not useful against wraiths Hamid's Ray went awry Grizzop is actually digging towards the enemy on his own Glowing talking sword? Actually seems to have hurt it. Player vs character knowledge on display as Lydia comments on the futility of Sasha's attack Alex don't make me worry for Bertie Poor Sasha just not cut out for this fight. Maybe she can buy a holy blade or a mystic mister Hamid did well in the fight,  Bryn likes that extra "pew" Cheap jokes about Bertie's condition as further con drain occurs Sasha really doesn't consider Bertie a teammate anymore. Wiggles dagger inside wraith to no effect. Wraith finally re-dies,  now the team can join Grizzop and the team won't be split anymore Oh Lydia drops some historical knowledge, I didn't know TB was code for syphilis; that explains a bit. But if Grizzop kills the zombies slowly we won't get to the opera *stamps foot and pouts* Yes Hamid someone needs to unsplit the party Is that (skeleton covered in jewelry holding a crate) Sasha bait or just the pathfinder equivalent of dead rats full of gold? An opera gown maybe? Gee Grizzop, could that be a consequence of trying to handle zombies on your own coming? Bertie shouldn't flee the wraith because he "wouldn't win a running wraith", really James? No being mean to us shippers! Gah this show is meta, how many layers is that when I, a fan, writes about the players talking about their characters in terms of fan reactions? Also for the record is out of character player talk about the game without acknowledging the audience breaking the fourth wall or is breaking the third wall a thing? Do we add a fifth wall if we admit that the players are preforming to an extent even out of character and may have different personalities when not doing podcasts? At what point is this no longer about the format and just me having a philosophical crisis over the notion of "self" Vs "performance"?

[marlasomething]

I posted 961 times in 2021

24 posts created (2%)

937 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 39.0 posts.

I added 109 tags in 2021

#fanfic - 14 posts

#tma - 13 posts

#rqgaming - 11 posts

#rqg - 11 posts

#the magnus archives - 11 posts

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Longest Tag: 23 characters

#the magnus archives fic

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

The Line Is Erased: Day 25 - Someone Imperfectly Me

Hello there! This is the first time I write a RQG fic and it’s going to be…rusty (NO IT’S NOT A PUN). Since I don’t want to be depressing AF and I FUCKING KNOW MYSELF, I am going to choose to write from outsider’s PoV, with a teeny tiny group of characters that just happen to be around on the background.

Also, after writing the first one I realised how much this podcast motivates me to keep saying “yes” to my friends’ campaigns and that is always a good choice for many reasons, so this is homage to all of us, people playing as our always very particular characters and suffering because of dices and masters!

So…that is that.

Here is my contribution for Day 25: Family + Those We Stay With And Those We Choose To Leave, prompts given by @the-line-is-erased on Tumblr.

Episode that covers at least one of the prompts relistened to do this ep. 130.

Do forgive me for any possible screw-ups (as well as for my quick tipper, non-native speaker writer).

Allons-y!

TW: mentions of suicide

Japan had been going…worryingly uneventful.  At least, for what they were used to.

Agnes was accustomed to be the pessimistic of the group, so she was the one in which said tranquillity caused more unease, though it was clearly also starting to affect Nym and Tara mainly (as well as Vincent, she believed; she still tried to keep her distances, ghosts had a strange effect on her, and one that had done the same thing she had been about to so many times in the past…not exactly healthy on a psychological level).

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Since the last time they had to face Tara’s terrible family something had been triggered inside of her, reminding her of her own past; as a deadly creature played for laughs at the circus since she was so little there was no life before.

She was so distracted she run directly into a man with an extremely angry looking expression that, in spite of what it might  been expected, just said sorry and carried on.

Agnes used her Japanese knowledge to try to speak to him, but he just didn’t turn back.

Trina, next to her, frowned.

“Strange, that lad was actually evil, but he acted…rather too polite.”

“Yes…everybody in the village is the same…I was in the pub, sung something that might have been…a teeny tiny bit racist and, nothing. Nobody got aggressive. They are deep-shit scared of someone; some kept talking about this weird person with vertical hair and…Saulis?”

Saulis had gone pale.

“I…uh, I might have dated their issue.”

“Ok…what did you do to them?”

“Me?! I…I actually like them. I mean, they were a nut-case and too sciency for me but…I truly like them so…I started chewing tobacco so they hated me so they could dogged the bullet I am.”

Agnes went mad.

“THAT IS SO STUPID! AT LEAST SOMEONE LOVED YOU! YOU…YOU I DON’T HAVE PARENTS, I WAS RAISED BY PEOPLE THAT SAW ME AS A GOOD FOR AN ENDING AND NEVER A SINGLE PERSON EVER CARED FOR ME IF NOT FOR ME BEING USEFUL!”

As she spoke, choking on her own words, the whole village trembled.

There was something coming, and it wasn’t nice.

“And we will call it a day there!” all of Aurora’s players groaned, especially Agnes.

“Come on! As our master you should know you ought to at least tell us what is coming! A hint?”

“I might be your master, but I am also your friend. And I know when someone is projecting too much into a character” she got closer to her friend and hugged them. “Now, to lower tensions…Saulis, what did I say about improvisation of knowing the characters from the actual real campaign?”

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

Extra notes for flavour: Agnes Brown is my character for a campaign of wraiths in World of Darkness and it’s...what happens when you put on a thermomixer Agnes from TMA and Whizzer Brown form Falsettos (funny anecdote: my friends don’t know much from either except that I love them; so…when I told them everything about my character the word I heard more was: THAT IS SO ORIGINAL WOW YOUR MIND).

As usual, likes/kudos (depending if you are reading this on Tumblr or AO3), feedback and random comments ARE SO HIGHLY APPRECIATED.

The title of the story is from the song “Love Me From What I Am” from In Trousers, the musical that precedes Falsettos and that is FUCKING CRAZY AND SO GOOD (and not on Spotify).

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

Also, thanks to the TMA discord channel that posted this prompts! You are lovely, gracias!

Now also live in AO3.

Long life and prosperity,

Marla

6 notes • Posted 2021-11-25 16:09:04 GMT

#4

The Line Is Erased: Day 29 - Liaisons

Hello there! This is the first time I write a RQG fic and it’s going to be…rusty (NO IT’S NOT A PUN). Since I don’t want to be depressing AF and I FUCKING KNOW MYSELF, I am going to choose to write from outsider’s PoV, with a teeny tiny group of characters that just happen to be around on the background.

Also, after writing the first one I realised how much this podcast motivates me to keep saying “yes” to my friends’ campaigns and that is always a good choice for many reasons, so this is homage to all of us, people playing as our always very particular characters and suffering because of dices and masters!

So…that is that.

Here is my contribution for Day 29: Japan + Inventions, creations and crossing the line; prompts given by @the-line-is-erased on Tumblr.

Episode that covers at least one of the prompts relistened to do this: Ep.159 (actually; I just took a couple of details, so this chapter is kind of EASTER EGGS PARTY) Also, just some silly stuff after the overdramatic top of yesterday.

Do forgive me for any possible screw-ups (as well as for my quick tipper, non-native speaker writer).

Allons-y!

You got it, pal. Stealing is one of your things; you will have to like, literally have a superdetective or something watching you.

The sound of a dice filled for a second Saulis’ mind; followed by his own voice on an extremely frustrated tone.

“NAT ONE?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

It wasn’t a superdetectivewhat cost Saulis’ to get free food for everyone from the Flying Noodle Monster (poorly translated into English by Tara), but pure hubris.

He was so certain he couldn’t be caught he didn’t considered for a second that, the gnome apparently sleeping with tainted glasses right behind him might, indeed, be only apparently sleeping and detect him almost immediately.

“Well…shit.”

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

The owners weren’t happy. Actually, they were so unhappy they made the totally of the party go behind their business to decide what to do with those scoundrels (that was, at least, Tara’s translation).

“We will work for you!” Nym suggested, while the rest made a face that left clear their opinion about said accord.

“We don’t need you, nor have the space for it. Unless you have something of extreme value for us…”

Saulis got a brilliant idea.

“Agnes! Your cake preserver!” sometimes, his companion was still childish (things a lack of proper childhood can do to people, WHO WOULD HAVE KNOWN?!), thing that had resulted in her inventing a special device where you can accumulate as many cakes as you want…and they stayed fresh as newly backed.

“But…but…it’s for cakes, not noodles!”

“You sure?”

“Well…I mean…It is technically for all short of foods, but that wasn’t my vision.”

“So, yes?”

She shrugged, sad.

“I guess.”

He turned to the Flying Noodle Monster’s owners.

“So…we have an exclusive invention that will preserve ALL THE FOOD you haven’t sold in perfect state for the following day. Do we have a deal or shall I go on more detail?”

For an instant, the couple froze in place and a dice was heard again.

“DIRTY TWENTY, WE ARE BACK!”

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

By the time they arrived at the door of a hotel to pass the night until their contact appeared the next morning (Nym still complaining about it being, as she had called them, Aphrodite fanperson), Saulis’ touchwas back at its prime, having enough money to rent the suite for the night (it was out of necessity, for the only place they could have stayed other way was what can only be called a well of filth and desperation where, apparently, the Amelia Earhart could be found).

As they entered the room, the groans of the whole middle/small-sized party could be heard from the other side of Hiroshima.

Why was everything so BIG?!

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

Extra notes for flavour: yesterday I had campaign with “OG” Saulis! And…we have kind of…er…enslaved a goblin and I forced my group to name it Grizzop (be all very proud of me pls).

The title of the story is from the song “Liaisons” from A Little Night Music; I’m sorry for repeating composer AGAIN…but…IT STILL HURTS SO VERY MUCH. I promise, tomorrow I’ll change.

As usual, likes/kudos (depending if you are reading this on Tumblr or AO3), feedback and random comments ARE SO HIGHLY APPRECIATED.

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

Also, thanks to the TMA discord channel that posted this prompts! You are lovely, gracias!

Now live on AO3!

Long life and prosperity,

Marla

6 notes • Posted 2021-11-29 17:54:30 GMT

#3

Piles Of Nonsense Bingo: Storaged Fire

Hi there! This is my first individual contribution to the @pilesofnonsense 2021 Halloween Bingo. My idea? To fill the marked column (bellow) adding an extra one in each entry.

As I am only useful as a writter, here it is my first fic:

"Boxes" filled: Artefact Storage and The Desolation.

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Original Non-Human Avatar

Pairings: Jonmartin, background Tim/Sasha and Lonelyeyes

Additional tags: Season 4 AU, Archivist!Sasha, Web!Jon, Web!Martin, stablished (new) relationship, original statement (from Gertrude Era), Gerry gets mentioned bcs I love him so much, other characters also get small mentions, fluff, slight angst and intrusive thoughts, monster animals, she/they pronouns for Nikola, no beta we kayak like Tim

CW: Arson, identity crisis, mistrust issues, mentions of death

Ranking: Teen and up (it is not heavy but maybe a bit harsh for younger audiences)

Word count: 1941

Summary: Jon and Martin are hanging in the Artefact Storage when a dog appears...and this time is not Martin's doing

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34845676

Jon couldn’t hate spiders anymore. It would be rather…contradictory. Fire, though; fire was his new greatest foe.

He would never forget the day he died. The day he and Martin died.

It has taken all they had in them to force Tim to stay instead of going with them to destroy The Circus, all the compelling capacities both him and his…boyfriend (it is still felt weird, in a good way; but bizarre nonetheless) had started showing or, more accurately, finally accepting, even if doing so with reluctance.

If things went south (as they did), Sasha would need some anchor. And that ought to be him.

The Circus…it was maddening, there were no words in any dictionary to describe it otherwise. They knew the explosion was likely to kill them but…they had to do it. Especially after they had realised that Sasha was losing it completely and they lost complete track of both Daisy and Basira (the first one not even making it out of the place).

They had hold hands for a second before detonating the thing, for all of them, but also for Tim’s brother and the many other victims of Nikola and their troupe.

“I also liked you” he had said, seconds before giving use to the lighter Sasha had received as a present.

“What?”

“Before we begun to get close, when Sasha started getting, er…paranoid. Before all that, I already liked you, I just…”

“…was an ass about it” once he had confidence with someone, Martin was way bolder. Especially with him, the crush turned into real love for the whole flawed individual. “Yeah, I started realising it now…you were terrible to me, though. Good thing I have fallen for you.”

As every single time Jon had to put out any short of feelings, it cost him greatly to find the words.

“I have too.”

The explosion was brutal, the pain so great he could still feel it in his sleep.

It should have killed them. Ripped them from the inside out due to explosion itself as their exterior melted from the heat and fire.

And so it did, but The Mother had other plans…

…Jon didn’t envy the poor forensic examiner that was about to open them when they started vomiting spiders and clumsily woke up, their worst burns covered by permanent cobwebs.

And, now, nobody completely trusted them.

Not that neither of them could truly blame the others for it.

It got tiring, though. They needed some time when other people’s stares weren’t suspicious (or, also pretty annoying, full of pity when they saw the forever burnt tissue).

So they started hiding in the Artefact Storage Room from time to time. Also, quality calm time alone with each other was a treat they might have wanted even if things hadn’t gone the way they had.

Here they were, playing some allegedly cursed game that was supposed to trap its players on the game’s orders in real life (although it obviously had no effect of them, apart from a slight headache probably provoked by their annoyed Patron). If felt kind of…good.

“HA!” Jon screamed. “Won! Again.”

Martin sighed.

“Remember when you pretended to be this very serious, professional academic? I guess he wouldn’t have been this competitive.”

“Nah, but he would certainly have pointed out MANY TIMES how bad you are at it. I only did it this one time.”

The taller man rolled his eyes.

“The bar is that low, uh?”

“If you ask the rest…” he tried to sound even humorous, but came as bitter as he tried not to feel.

“Hey, they will get used to it.”

“Sure thing. Look, not being liked, that is usual, nothing new in the horizon. Neither is being looked at as some kind of…nature mistake but, for some reason, this time is hitting me harder” maybe because if it wasn’t for the fact that I had to make peace with the man I love being the same as I have become, I’d hate myself even more than they hate me.

Instead of trying to answer him, Martin hugged him, and he just let the smell of tea relaxed him…

…until a cheerful bark interrupted them.

“This time it wasn’t me I swear!” Martin said, as they turned to see a white extremely hairy dog with a friendly expression (for a dog) staring at them while shaking its long tail rhythmically.

At first, it could have passed as a regular dog, but, the more Jon looked at it, the more something felt off…and then, he noticed the paw marks.

The floor the dog had stepped on was burned.

“Martin, don’t touch it.”

“Oi! As a proud cat-dad I thought you would be more sensitive than to call an intelligent animal an it.”

“First, cats are far more evolved than dogs and second…look at the floor.”

“Shit.”

“Shit precisely” the dog’s face was now less amicable, as if it had realised it had been caught.

Jon pointed at the animal’s neck, where a paper covered in what he guesses was fireproof plastic laid.

Counting with far longer arms than his boyfriend, Martin reached at took it before the dog could even move. He was far quicker since…since the change.

It was a statement, a quite short one, but still an statement. Signed as having been register by Gertrude.

“May I…?” maybe The Web had claimed him, but his need to KNOW had gone nowhere.

“If you insist…” they shared a nervous smile; the dog-like-creature still staring, as if thinking what it should do with them.

He wondered for a second why he didn’t approach them more, but he didn’t like the implications of any of his theories, so he decided to pretend he didn’t have them and let it be.

He started reading the paper out-loud, his voice echoing in every corner of Artefact Storage.

Statement of Michael Smith, regarding the destruction of his house after the irregular adoption of a stray dog in April 2014.

Statement begin.

My family has always been big on adopting animals. Just as a kid, I remember it was basically the only topic my parents could speak about without my kitchen becoming a battle camp.

That is why; when my oldest son came home with an apparently adorable fluffy dog I didn’t question his decision for a second. He named him Zuko after a character in a show he was obsessed with at the time because he said “he burned a squirrel when I found him!”

I thought he was exaggerating, or straight-up lying, he was eleven and had decided that, if you believe something enough, you can make other people believe it too…

…I wish I could do that with what happened next.

The…ok; I am going to call it Thing because it doesn’t deserve any better.

Well, the Thing never came into the house and, curiously enough, only walked on watery parts of the garden. It was odd enough, but I had had other abandoned animals before, and you just cannot phantom the kind of trauma those poor creatures get exposed to and the long-term consequences it has.

It only let my son, whose name I’d rather left out of this statement, touch it and, when he did, he always had marks of what seemed to be burns later on.

However, stupidly enough, I attributed said marks to his own clumsiness and his eternal hyperfixation with house-made chemical experiments.

Reading it now, in front of me, I can’t help but feeling stupid…

…especially, because there was a pretty clear sign I didn’t catch upon: every single time we left the house, the Thing would tentatively approach our home, sniffing doors and windows, as in the search of something…

That something, if you haven’t guessed it yet, was a way in.

And, eventually, It found it.

I don’t know exactly what it wanted from our house; I am just a DHL deliver man, and my wife is a journalist stuck with weird rather unbelievable short stories due to her sort of pretty sexist bosses. But, whatever it had been, it was successfully destroyed.

The Thing burned our home to the ground, everything on it perpetually lost.

Everything we owned was in there; we had just gone for a walk around the neighbourhood with the dogs that actually wanted to do dog things.

At least, the not-dog is gone for good. According to our neighbours, just as the fire started calming, a couple of wardrobe-sized men went in and took the Thing, putting it inside their van and driving away without a word.

The insurance has found a way to blame it on us and, therefore, now we have to life with my wife’s father. Three kids, four dogs and two adults in their not-that-big house.

It is terrible but, worst part? When I looked at my oldest son’s eyes while he gazed at our destroyed home; he seemed…fine with it.

I have been finding small piles of ashes since then.

And now there is no monster-dog to be blamed; at least, not directly.

Statement ends, I suppose.

Archivist’s notes: everything Mr. Smith tells in his statement matches with the official statement. Regarding the reason the dog was sent to this family; it might be interesting to consider it related to a small article his wife wrote that mentioned Jude Perry in not very nice terms…she is rather revengeful.

The other option is, of course, that the eldest son of the Smiths is actually attracted by The Desolation himself; the thing that seemed to be a dog somehow making its way to him. If this is the case, I might pay a visit to the Smiths quite soon…

The… not-dog itself is now among our artefacts, since it apparently doesn’t really need any nutrients to just survive. It was given to us by Breekon and Hope, as a peace offering after some…private business I had with Miss Orsinov. It is to be well kept inside its cell, for there is no stopping It if It gets lose.

At least, with the research my acquaintance Mister Keay had done it apparently is not. And he is quite trustworthy and completely professional.

Signed,

Gertrude Robinson.

“No way to stop…”

“Well, we’ve both met Gerry and there is a reason that ghost and you have such a good relationship: both of you think too much and are oblivious to the obvious solution.”

Without thinking it twice, Martin took his tea mug and threw it over the dog and It….It started consuming itself.

“Makes no sense” Jon complained.

“Agree; learnt a long time ago not to make sense of Fear incarnations.”

They stayed in silence, as the not-dog made a quite good rendition of the Wicked Witch of the West, just a few white hairs left after It was gone.

“Who do you think let It loose?”

“Who can know about us and seems to be here just to have fun at our expense?”

“And speak weirdabout Elias. Do you think those two…?” Jon scoffed.

“Even Icaught that the first time, Martin. It can also have been an honest to God accident, though. This place needs a serious intervention…”

They both sighed and let themselves fell into the floor, staring at each other.

“You know? Your Gertrude impersonation is quite good. In another world, you might be The Archivist.” Jon smirked.

“Then, the World is saved there for certain, for you will always be my perfect anchor.”

No more talking was needed, as they kissed and let the intensity of the last minutes (more the last weeks, months…) made them succumb into a soft, comfortable slumber.

7 notes • Posted 2021-10-31 15:31:41 GMT

#2

The Line Is Erased: Day 22: Be the Hero (while you can)

Hello there! This is the first time I write a RQG fic and it’s going to be…rusty (NO IT’S NOT A PUN). Since I don’t want to be depressing AF and I FUCKING KNOW MYSELF, I am going to choose to write from outsider’s PoV, with a teeny tiny group of characters that just happen to be around on the background.

So…that is that.

Here is my contribution for Day 22: London + Seeds + The time before our story began (more like JUST WHEN IT BEGAN), prompts given by @the-line-is-erased on tumblr.

It is set in Ep. 1; so I had to go to the wiki to refresh a bit and STILL, likely I messed up a bit, please, do forgive me (as well as for my quick tipper, non-native speaker writer).

Allons-y!

Tara doesn’t know what is going on; there is this huge knight on shiny armour, so bombastic she thinks for a moment they (Tara knew better than to assume gender that easy) are wearing it ironically. However, from the place in the crowd were she is, she eventually realised there is something really earnest about their attitude…nope, the pal is likely as proud of that shiny thing as it seems.

There is also a dwarf, an extremely pale woman and some sketchy looking men.

She closed her eyes on the group; she really wants to know what is going on…

What is that noise?

She would have sworn she heard some dice rolling and then…she can hear and see everything with a clarity that is not…natural?

At one point, he heard the armour guy (now, she can completely know it’s a he) present himself as Bertie MacGuffingham.

With a name like that, he is going to die. This is doomed; those are not a real team!

However, they do not die; instead, they succeed. Then, a young hafling with golden brown skin tries to sell them that this was a staged fight but, again after that weird dice sound fill her head, Tara realised this is utter, complete bullshit.

And she had a revelation, a revelation that would become the future of this soon-to-be-warlock.

If they can become a party (concept she didn’t even knew a less than an hour ago, but that now she can’t stop thinking about), so can she find a weird group and, who knows, maybe save the world.

Not London, though, she feels that is going to be these people’s ultimate job…at least, of the ones that make it that far.

--------

Extra notes for flavour: Tara is going to be my character in the Pathfinder campaign we are preparing. She has NOTHING to do with this one; not in class, nor in alignment (she’s a neutral evil alchemist that went mad due to her studies…oh, and she speaks like Nikola Orsinov [which, for my friends, is just me going deep shit creepy and high-pitched and they…hate-love it]).

The title of the story is from a song from the musical of Big Fish (whose movie version is my second favourite movie after Tick, Tick…Boom! FUCKING SMASHED IT TO TAKE THE FIRST PLACE)

Also living in Ao3 now.

Also, thanks to the TMA discord channel that posted this prompts! You are lovely, gracias!

And, as always, likes, comments ALL IS SO WELCOME

Long live and prosperity (still a trekkie),

Marla

8 notes • Posted 2021-11-22 23:00:03 GMT

#1

Why the heck no?

Hi! I’m Marla and I decided that I had absolutely no good reason (appart from the inner feeling of not ‘being worth it’, which I am suppossed to fight...allegiably) not to do some good old-fashiones auto-spam of my fics as I publish them...

So...ey! Yestarday I published a special one-shot to celebrate the firts week since MAG200 aka the FINALE aired, which also happens to be a ‘in-between’ chapter of my long-running TMA fic (you know, an AU/fix-it one of shorts following the statement per chapter format because I just LOVE writing spooky stuff since...well, since ever) so...here goes the links!!!!! *right now you obviously can’t see me, but I am blushing like a freaking tomato*

As a one-shot: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30409614

My long-running fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30247605?view_full_work=true

Also, this is part of some short of series...so, here is the link, I guess (?): https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205762

Oh! And if some reason you guys want me to also publish the stories on tumblr...let me know *definitively hides because she truly feels she is overstepping in a Domain -pun intended- that is not her own*

10 notes • Posted 2021-04-02 08:46:19 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[commander-diomika]

Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Rating: Gen Word Count: ~2000 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Rating Will Change to Explicit in Later Parts, Opposites Attract, just two people trying to figure out how to keep the peace with each other and very occasionally succeeding

Summary: Part 2 is here, set several months after Part 1 in a Damascus safehouse. (here's Part One)

"There was another Sending from Curie’s people.” From a side-table awash with documents, Zolf fetched a piece of paper. “New workin’ theory on London, some kind of disease, rather than mind control."

Wilde frowned. “Oh, that’s much worse. Mind control magic at least implies some kind of central power system, a culprit to be fought. If it’s an illness… it might just be chaotic, undirected spread.” Wilde's eyes were shrewd. This was the Wilde that Zolf actually liked working with.

“The message doesn’t sound certain. Just a theory.” Zolf pointed out. He settled back. The couch was a threadbare number but it was comfortable enough, and this wasn’t the first evening they’d spent sitting here discussing plans and directions.

The two of them couldn’t have gotten the hell out of Cairo at a better time. Two weeks after Zolf and Wilde made their quiet exit from the Meritocrats, Aphophis disappeared, taking with him the last few loyal agents. In the ensuing chaos, Wilde pulled some strings and… appropriated significant funding for the next phase. Enough to rent a modest base of operation in Damascus, where they had been for the past few months.

Zolf wasn’t quite sure how Wilde made it all happen so smoothly. At the time he’d just thought Wilde got lucky. Though having worked together for just a few months, he was tempted to say Wilde got lucky a lot… Or perhaps he was just very good at making it seem that way.

“Ho, Wilde,” Zolf called from the kitchen, as he heard Wilde enter the townhouse.

His companion entered the adjoining sitting room, dressed almost-sensibly for the heat in a cream linen suit, a satchel slung over his shoulder.

“What you got there?” Zolf called. He had been chopping vegetables for the evening meal but seeing that Wilde looked flush with success, Zolf put the knife down and wiped off his hands as he went to join him.

His step faltered as he realised that Wilde, once again, was not alone. With him was the man Zolf couldn’t help but think of as “the interloper”.

Alfred Douglas stood just a few inches shorter than Wilde, similarly dark haired and dashing, as he followed Wilde into the sitting room and greeted Zolf with a winning smile. “Hello, Mr Smith.” Wilde had once said that he chose his friends for their good looks, and to look at Alfred, Zolf would begrudgingly agree.

Zolf had met this newcomer just a few days ago. Returning from a fruitless trip to Turkey, he was shocked to find another person at the safehouse; an old friend, Wilde said. When pressed for details, Wilde had first deflected, demurred, and then dug his heels in. It had gotten ugly.

Not wanting to repeat the fight, Zolf just nodded tightly. “Douglas.”

“Oh please, I’ve been telling you, you can call me Bosie.” Zolf, basically immune to affected charm, ignored him and repeated his question to Wilde. “What’s in the bag, Wilde?”

“Books!” Wilde replied, pointedly ignoring the pair’s less-than-warm interaction.

One by one he produced several tomes from the leather satchel with a flourish, revealing each as if waiting for applause before placing them on the low wooden table. A History of Dwarven Achievements; Svalbard, a Japanese travel guide, and one more sizeable volume. Zolf couldn’t immediately understand the title, but he could see that it was written in Dwarvish. That last one gave a small puff of dust as Wilde gently ran his fingers through the pages before adding it to the pile.

“Bosie was such a help, weren’t you dear, I would never have found that last little merchant alone. I swear we went down so many side alleys it was like a maze!” Wilde’s voice was honeyed and light again. It made Zolf feel itchy and irritable. In the months they’d been in Damascus, he’d almost gotten Wilde to just act like a normal bloody person when it was just the two of them, instead of some conversational artiste looking to make a spectacle of every interaction. Two days in the interloper’s company and he was back to the same smarmy, dunkable cad Zolf had met in London.

“The Svalbard one wasn’t exactly easy to get our hands on, either. It’s not like anyone is doing transfers from The London Library anymore.” Wilde reported as he speedily shed jacket, hat and shoes, then plopped down on the settee. Still looking overly pleased with himself, he patted the seat next to him, inviting Bosie to sit. He did so.

“How did you go with your leads?” Wilde asked, still slightly breathless from the performance he made of unveiling the books.

Zolf’s lips pursed, and he considered not answering. Even though Wilde was probably telling him everything in the long hours they spent sequestered in Wilde’s room, it still felt wrong to discuss business with Douglas here. Since he’d arrived on the scene he’d been nothing but disarming smiles and quiet interest but…

Maybe I’m just bein’ paranoid, Zolf said to himself. It was immediately followed with another thought, unbidden and unwelcome. More like bein’ jealous.

That couldn’t possibly be the case, so Zolf opened his mouth and started speaking. “I went askin’ after our initial contact with the Hephaestus lot. You know, the one that sent me on that bloody wild goose chase?” Zolf’s recent trip to Ankara had been based on that lead. He’d been looking for Garten, with no success.

“Turns out she’s not keen on explaining to me why her lead was a blumin’ fake, and the rest of ‘em have closed up ranks.” Finding something to do that didn’t involve looking at either of them, Zolf picked up Wilde’s hat off the table and hung it on the hook by the door. “Also, it looks like the whole Cult is gettin’ ready to move, if I’m honest. A lot less folks workin’ and a lot more packin’ up than I saw last I wer’ there.” He picked up Wilde’s shoes and put them by the door.

“Yes, actually, I noticed something similar at the Artemisian temples the other day,” Douglas said thoughtfully.

Zolf glared at him. Who did he think he was?

As far as Zolf was concerned, the man’s only saving grace was that his sudden reappearance in Wilde’s life made him happy. Pleasant or positive things had been in short supply, and Zolf wasn’t a monster. But Douglas had been tottering about on thin ice since the moment he arrived, and his comments were only salting the surface.

Wilde’s eyes tracked between the two of them, and with a melodramatic sigh he said, “Perhaps you ought to head off, my dear.” He threw Zolf a glance that said there, are you happy now?

“Yeh, I’ve got some things to discuss with Wilde. In private.” Zolf added, eyebrows brewing up a thunderstorm.

Bosie tilted his head, an expression of mock-hurt on his face. It was an expression Wilde made often and Zolf did his best not to explode. These two were as bad as each other and getting worse.

Wilde made an apologetic shooing motion with his hands, and Douglas did as he was bid. He gathered his hat with a reproachful look at Zolf, and gave Wilde a peck on the cheek before leaving. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Oscar.”

Wilde walked Douglas out and returned to the settee, sitting with an exasperated sigh.

It had been getting better between them, heroes with their backs against the wall that they were. It had been. For all that Wilde was insufferable when he got on his airs about “need-to-know information” and couldn’t cook and was constantly preening as though any of that even mattered… But for all the myriad of ways he got up Zolf’s nose, he was also talented. Adept at making and keeping contacts. Able to talk his way into places Zolf couldn’t even get a foot into. An incredible mind for language, information, and planning. He was useful to have around, and for that Zolf was trying his best to extend a bit of graciousness.

And for all Wilde was frustrating company, at least he was someone. Wilde had been dead right, back in Cairo. It was nice to not be alone.

A mulish expression settled on Wilde’s face. It was obvious he was getting ready to jump straight back into the argument about Douglas, but Zolf wasn’t in the mood to rehash the same angry words.

you need to trust me, Zolf

you ain’t supposed to hide things from me anymore

we’re supposed to be partners

it’s none of your business

I thought you were more careful than this

With all the tact of a glaive to the face, Zolf changed the subject.

“There was another Sending from Curie’s people.” From a side-table awash with documents, Zolf fetched a piece of paper. “New workin’ theory on London, some kind of disease, rather than mind control. But it is affectin’ paladins, so it’s not any kind of disease we’ve dealt with before.”

Wilde frowned. “Oh, that’s much worse. Mind control magic at least implies some kind of central power system, a culprit to be fought. If it’s an illness… it might just be chaotic, undirected spread.” As though a spell had been lifted, as soon as Douglas left the room, Wilde turned into a different person, sharp and incisive.

Zolf nodded in grim approval of Wilde’s assessment, moving to sit down next to him.

“She also reckons we start treatin’ it like something communicable. Isolatin’ when we’ve not been able to keep an eye on each other, so on.”

“Well, that’s not very practical for us, now is it. We don’t have the kind of operation Curie does, with the people and resources to run proper quarantine.” Wilde said, eyes shrewd. This was the Wilde that Zolf actually liked working with. “We split up all the time.”

“The message doesn’t sound certain. Just a theory.” Zolf pointed out. He settled back. The couch was a threadbare number but it was comfortable enough, and this wasn’t the first evening they’d spent sitting here discussing plans and directions.

“Still, a theory from one of the sharpest minds left on the planet. Worth giving credence to. Maybe we need to look at bringing a few more people on board.” Wilde paused, thoughtful. “How would you feel about working with James Barnes?”

Zolf cocked his head, unable to place the name for a moment. “Commander James Barnes?”

“The very same.”

Zolf’s jaw worked as he started several different sentences then abandoned them. “I mean, he’s in the Navy, ain’t he? Last I checked, that’s still under Meritocratic order.”

“Perhaps he won’t be with them for much longer.” Wilde said mysteriously. Zolf nearly called him on it. Fighting about the sudden inclusion of Douglas in their affairs, Zolf had pushed Wilde hard on his habit of half-truths and leading statements. He hadn’t gotten anywhere with it. He was starting to think Wilde might be just an incorrigible equivocator, and there was nothing to be done about it.

So Zolf simply grunted.

“So that’s a solid maybe on Barnes,” Wilde grinned. “Besides, we’ll be fine for the moment. I won’t go running off and recruiting anyone new, because now we’ve got Bosie.”

Zolf took a slow breath at this topic change. He gentled the first angry words that came to mind, and spoke. “Wilde… I know you trust him. I know you two have a long history. But in light of this-” Zolf tapped the transcribed Sending. “-I don’t know how I feel about you bringing him in on… everything.” It lay on the table next to the satchel.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Wilde said smoothly, grabbing the bag and reaching inside. “I managed to pick up one more thing.”

From the satchel he produced a much smaller item, a banged-up paperback with a bright cover.

“Ohhh it’s the second Hearts of Fire!” Zolf exclaimed. He knew a misdirect when he saw one but couldn’t contain himself. “Those are so hard to get!” He took the book-shaped olive branch from Wilde quickly, already opening to page one.

“I knew I shouldn’t have given it to you until you’d at least had a look at the Svalbard books,” Wilde teased.

Zolf considered Wilde over the top of the book for a long moment. Wilde wasn’t off the hook. Neither of them were. They would have to come back to this jagged mess of a conversation at some point, but for now, Zolf chose peace. Of a sort.

“Look, the quicker I’m done with it, the quicker you can have it. Don’t pretend like you haven’t read my Campbells. I’m not the one dog-earin’ the pages. I thought you were sposed to be a man of culture.”

“Oh, stop hounding me about it, Zolf,” Wilde said, picking up Dwarven Achievements and relaxing gratefully back into the couch. Zolf was already so engrossed he didn’t even groan.

[commander-diomika]

Pairing: Azu/Cel Sidebottom

Word Count: 1900

Rating: Mature (for drug references and mild sexual content)

Additional Tags: Drugs, Sort Of, Kissing, drugged kissing, Kinktober, thembofication, Fluff,

Prompt: Bimbofication / Collaring / Cockwarming

Summary: “I don’t know…” Azu said slowly. She wasn’t even sure where Cel had gotten the Rod of Bestow Curse, and their plan to gradually zap their intelligence down sounded… dubious. But then again, Azu wasn’t exactly a science-minded sort.

“Even I’m not silly enough to try this solo, Azu, and don’t you think it would be fun to do together!” Cel brandished the wand with an alarming enthusiasm. “I was just thinking about it, because when I take these off-” Cel tapped their goggles with a crystalline ding, “-for a little while after I feel, inebriated but not quite, until I adjust again, so I’m just curious about what happens if instead of calibrating out of the feeling, I persist with it!”

“Please, Azu. For science.”

It was just like the time with the Mega-joos, Cel explained to Azu. They just wanted to try something out.

“I don’t know…” Azu said slowly. She wasn’t even sure where Cel had gotten the Rod of Bestow Curse, and their plan to zap their intelligence down gradually sounded… dubious. But then again, Azu wasn’t exactly a science-minded sort.

“Even I’m not silly enough to try this solo, Azu, and don’t you think it would be fun to do together!” Cel brandished the wand with an alarming enthusiasm. “I was just thinking about it, because when I take these off-” Cel tapped their goggles with a crystalline ding, “-for a little while after I feel, inebriated but not quite, until I adjust again, so I’m just curious about what happens if instead of calibrating out of the feeling, I persist with it!”

Azu crossed her arms across her unarmoured chest. She did suppose that Cel had a point. The idea had a similar air to when Azu wanted to take a mysterious potion just to see what it did. She didn’t really feel like she could argue against Cel’s logic. (A very familiar feeling.)

“And if it all gets too much, I know, you can just restore me! I won’t be in any danger, and you can keep an eye on me, just like how I observed you last time! And nothing bad happened then except for a bit of broken furniture, and I’m not even big enough to break anything. Unless I somehow beast morph whilst- no, I’ll leave all my gear outside of the room and perhaps it would be good if your first responsibility is just to keep me in the one place so I don’t do anything rash with my potions.”

That sounded… remarkably sensible. But still, doubt niggled in Azu’s chest. “What if you stay that way? Something might go wrong with the restoration.”

“I have every faith in your healing! Besides, I’ve examined the wand carefully, it will definitely do what I want and nothing more, and it’s a basic enough spell to fix this kind of thing! Zolf does it all the time!”

“Why don’t you ask Zolf then?” Grasping, she knew.

Cel pressed their lips together, suddenly looking sheepish. “I don’t- You know that I like Zolf very much, Azu, but he’s not as much- well, to be honest, I just thought it might be something fun for us to do together.” When Cel dropped their chin and a puppy-dog pleading entered their eyes, Azu knew that the battle was lost.

She sighed. “Very well. Allow me to prepare the necessary spells.” Glee spread on Cel’s face, and Azu felt her chest warm with the rewarding light she always felt when helping. “Do not start without me.”

…

Cel took their goggles off and gently placed them on a side table. They closed their eyes and sighed, swaying a little.

“See, this kind of thing feels like we should have some drinks, too, but that would be adding another variable.”

“It’s probably best if I don’t get drunk.” Azu agreed. Cel’s room at the inn was comfortable if not lavishly appointed, a friendly fire in the grate, a bed and several armchairs just big enough for Azu to feel comfortable in.

“Right! Here we go! My research says this curse will affect my mental faculties based on a percentage of the original capacity, that is, not in an exponential but rather linear fashion from the original-”

Azu simply settled into a chair to watch as Cel pontificated. In the several days of downtime the group had been afforded at the inn, Cel had grown a shadow of stubble for a change. It was quite endearing.

“- but I am curious as to whether the-” Cel stopped suddenly, squeezed the wand in one hand, steeling themselves.

“The time for curiosity is done! It is time for answers!” they announced dramatically, then cast the wand in a sweeping motion over their tall frame. A sickly energy throbbed in the room for a breath, then nothing. Cel simply blinked owlishly.

“How… how does it feel?” Azu asked slowly.

“Not sure yet!” Cel said delightedly. “Give me a minute!” They stalked around the room in an energetic lap, once, twice. “I don’t feel any different. I’m going to do it again.”

Before Azu could advise against it, there was another eerie pulse. Standing in front of the fire, Cel’s eyes fluttered shut as they swayed. Azu felt the muscles in her legs coil, ready to spring into action in case Cel toppled, but they quickly steadied and snapped their eyes open.

“Should I take notes? Nothing in my research said that my memory will be affected by this experience but there is every chance that the sensations I feel can only be captured in the moment?” Cel went over to their desk and pulled up a sheaf of paper and started scribbling, muttering to themselves, seemingly having forgotten Azu was even there.

This continued for the next half an hour, cursing themselves twice more. On the third grasp and wave of the wand, they laid their head on their desk and gave a groan.

“Ooft. Dizzy.”

Concerned, Azu came over. She looked over Cel’s notes. The writings were becoming increasingly garbled; not any less legible but written in a confusing mix of languages, and the diagrams were becoming more… well Azu wasn’t sure how to describe it, but there was something abstractly expressive in them.

“Are you alright?” Azu asked.

Cel lifted their head off the desk, a smear of ink on one stubbly cheek. “Yes! I’m just goingsdahfdg-” They raised their eyebrows. “I’m fiweuhadermersh.” They clapped a hand to their mouth, rubbing a little more ink onto their face and jumped to their feet, remarkably spry.

“Do you need healing?” Azu asked, concerned. She wasn’t even sure how they were doing that with their mouth.

Cel walked around the room again, shaking their head. Azu watched them, and slowly settled into Cel’s desk chair. Cel didn’t seem worried or distressed, in fact as they turned and stalked back over, there was something determined in their eyes.

“I’m ok! I just- I think I just had to learn how to speak again.”

Azu frowned as Cel slowly lowered to their knees and laid their head in Azu’s robe-clad lap. “Bit swimmy,” was all they managed, and Azu instinctively petted their hair.

“The experience is not dissim- dissim- that different from some of the psy-psy-psychoa- trippy, you know, the little ground fellows that make you see things that aren’t real.” Cel mumbled into Azu’s lap. Azu continued to stroke Cel’s hair, feeling alarmed and trying not to show it. Azu knew that when people were under the influence of the little ground fellows, you should try your best to be a calming presence.

“It’s kind of nice. I often feel like I have two or three voices, layered inside, you know the talk inside your brain?”

“Internal monologue?” Azu ventured.

“Yes! The inside voices, all talking over each other, saying pros and cons simul- all at once and now it just feels…” They gestured with one hand then brought it up to rest on Azu’s thigh. “Quiet. I think if this happened, some other time, somewhere else…. I would feel afraid. I’m not afraid. I’m safe. And it’s ok to just feel… quiet for a little while. With you.” They nuzzled their nose into Azu’s thigh, their gaze unfocused as though they looked through Azu to something distant.

Azu watched Cel’s face carefully; cheek still smushed into Azu’s lap, their eyes darted up, their pupils blown wide and dark. “Kiss me?”

Azu blinked, petting hands stilling. “No, Cel.” She spoke gently, as one would to a demanding child. “It wouldn’t be right. You’re not in your right mind.”

“No, no no,” Cel went to shake their head but was really just nuzzling more firmly. “It’s still me! Cel! I’m not any less Cel! I’m fully Cel! I’m just, I don’t have the layers of inside-thinky-brain-talk that always talk me out of saying something like ‘I think we should kiss and I think that would be fun and nice!’ I’m pretty much always thinking that kissing would be fun and nice but there are so many reasons why I don’t usu- don’t say it!”

Azu was flummoxed. Cel’s only rule had been “don’t let me mess with my potions.” Cel hadn’t set up a single rule about what happened if the increasingly uninhibited half-elf hit on them.

That felt like a huge oversight on both their parts, really.

But Cel was looking up so earnestly, tall hair mussed from rubbing on her leg, and Azu was inclined to agree that kissing was indeed fun and nice, and very rarely far from her mind, too. Cel was making an awful lot of sense, as they usually did, even in this state.

“Ok.” Azu said softly. “Just one kiss, for us, if you promise you won’t regret it later.”

Cel came to stand. Whatever was happening in their mind, their body was still perfectly coordinated as they loomed over Azu and took her face in their slender hands.

“Azu.”

It’s very nice to be loomed over by them, Azu thought, looking up at Cel’s inky face.

“Kissing is nice. I don’t ever think I should have not-kissed someone.” Cel said, and for all their clunky phrasing, their voice was steady, gaze intent.

Azu tilted up her chin in invitation, and Cel dipped their mouth to Azu’s. The kiss was warm, and easy, Cel’s lips parting, letting their tongue trail and explore Azu’s lips, her tusks. Azu barely opened her mouth and felt Cel’s tongue slip inside, curious and soft. She met it with her own, careful not to push or overwhelm Cel’s narrow mouth, feeling the soft stubble on Cel’s upper lip against her own.

When Cel sighed in pleasure, Azu gently leant back.

“I think that’s enough, Cel.” Azu’s heart was beating fast in her chest. She wanted to surge upwards, plunge her tongue into Cel’s soft mouth, squeeze them and unwrap them and run her hands over every inch of them. But not like this.

Cel pouted, then screwed up their face in a slightly pained expression. “That was very wonde- beauti- nice. Wonderbeautynice.”

“Would you like a hug?” Azu offered. That, Azu felt she could offer without the heat in her veins overwhelming her. She stood, spreading her arms, and Cel wordlessly melted into them.

“I think I’d like my words back now, Azu. My inner words too. It was wonderbeautynice without them with you, though.”

Holding Cel her in arms, Azu let her heart open to Aphrodite’s light and lifted the curses on Cel. They sighed, squeezing their arms even tighter around Azu’s broad frame.

“That was such a kiss, Azu!” Cel leant back from the hug, not taking their arms from around Azu’s shoulder’s. Azu was relieved to see the sparkle in their eyes returned. “But you know, I don’t think I have quite enough data to say what kind of kiss it was, and I was wondering, if you would indulge me just a little further tonight, could we do it again?”

“For science, I take it?” Azu asked through her smile. With the light of Aphrodite and Cel’s bright gaze on her, Azu felt warm from crown to navel, fiery heat below that. She lifted her hand and rubbed tenderly at the smutch of ink on Cel's cheek.

“For science, absolutely.”