#where can i buy a cape or perhaps a cloak of some sort. and a wizard hat

[muckmagister]

heyyy <3

HIII‼️ i just voted for the first time and then spent like an hour looking at clothes online i have no idea what i'm doing but now i'm gonna eat a croissant 

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

The Jimmy Jab Games

Chapter 1: The Eating Challenge

~The Jimmy Jab Games Master~

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 3.3K

~Master~

There was a skip in your step as you hopped down the stairs to the common room to see your friends sat around the couch and chairs. “Okay boys. Raise of hands. Who’s bored?” Sirius quirked his brow as you plopped on the couch next to him, looking between him, Remus, Peter, and James.

“It’s past curfew.” James pointed out, sighing into his seat before furrowing his brows. “Wait. Why do you ask?” James knew by the look on your face that you had something planned whether the boys were bored or not. Not that they minded really, anything you had planned was automatically fun.

You let a smile cross your face, making you look more conniving than you’d want. “The Jimmy Jab Games.”

Everyone looked at you waiting for some sort of elaboration on your idea. Sirius sighed and shook his head with a fond smile. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s this... Jibby Jams... Ja-Jabs?” He muttered while his brows furrowing on his confusion.

You nudged his shoulder, chuckling under your breath. “Jimmy Jab.” You corrected him.

“That didn’t clear anything up, Y/N.”

“Shush, Siri. I’m getting there.” He rolled just eyes, throwing his arm on the couch behind you. “The Jimmy Jab Games are basically a collection of challenges we play and compete to win. In the end there’s one person left who’s crowned the winner.” The boys seem sort of interested in the idea, the four of them eyeing each other as if they were trying to come to an agreement. You raised a brow, looking between James, Peter, and Remus but unable to grasp what they were saying. You groaned, turning in your seat to look at Sirius. “Pads, please! It’ll be fun, just trust me! Please?!”

“Alright! Alright!” he yelled over you, getting you to squeal in delight.

“What is happening here?” Lily laughed as she and Marlene joined the group. Marlene sat down next to you, offering smiles to everyone as Lily fell into her boyfriend’s lap.

“It’s on.” You told her as she straightened in her seat, looking directly at you.

“It’s on?” You nodded and both girls became excited. James questioned their actions, unknown to the fact that you had already filled the girls in earlier.

“They’re playing, too. Well, Lily’s playing, Marls offered to be the referee to keep the number even.” Marlene nodded, excited for the event. “Ok. Since we’re all playing-“ James put a finger up, about to object to agreeing to play before you shot him a look and Lily smacked his arm. “We’re all playing,” you repeated, and James relented, wrapping his arms around Lily’s waist. “Marlene did us the honors of coming up with the challenges.” You turned to Sirius seeing him smirk at you. “I knew you’d say yes, Siri. Anyways, like I said, at the end of each challenge someone is eliminated until there’s one person left.”

“What do you get if you win a challenge?” Remus butted in.

You paused, clicking your tongue. “Bragging rights?” You asked as a few grunts of displeasure made their way around the group. You waved your hands in the air. “That’s not the point. The point is at the end there’s one winner!”

“And what do they get if they win?” Sirius grinned at you, leaning forward onto his knees to look at you. You cocked your head, looking towards Lily and Marlene for help. They furrowed their brows, realizing none of you discussed a prize for winning. “You didn’t come up with a reward?”

“Don’t give me that tone.” You told Sirius, a smirk playing on your lips as Sirius surrendered with a chuckle. “Fine. Um… winner… gets pampered for a week by the losers?” You offered. Every took a minute to considered the pros and cons in their heads, ultimately nodding in agreement. You clapped your hands. “Great! That settles it! Marlene, the first challenge?”

Marlene cleared her throat, making a huge debacle as she moved to stand in front of everyone. You leaned back on the couch, Sirius leaning back as well and throwing an arm over your shoulder. You snickered, but didn’t make him move it, giving Marlene your attention. Sirius couldn’t help but smile as you very gently molded into his side.

“Alright! After great thinking and listening to Y/N give idea after idea when this was supposed to a secret to her as well,” She sent you a playful grin as you shrunk in on yourself, feeling Sirius squeeze your shoulder. “I’ve decided the first challenge be an Eating Challenge!” Your friends and you cheered, excited for the start of the Jimmy Jab Games. “First thing’s first!” Marlene calmed you all down as the very few students around the room rolled their eyes at your friends and your typical giddiness. “We need to get food from the kitchens.”

“Ah. Perhaps that’s where I come in?” James spoke up. Your eyes widened in realization when you realized James’ Invisibility cloak could be used to get food from the kitchen without getting caught.

“Perfect! Prongs, can you and Pads go get the food we nee-“

“Why don’t you go, Y/N.” Lily interrupted you, momentarily confusing you. She beamed at you, grabbing a hold of James’ hand. “I just had something to talk to James about and I didn’t want to put a damper on the challenge. So why don’t you go with Sirius?”

You turned to Sirius and both of you shrugged, seeing nothing wrong with the two of you getting the food. While James went upstairs to grab the cloak, Marlene told you to grab as much disgusting foods as you could find. She patted your shoulder as James returned and gave you a small push towards Sirius. You stuck your tongue out at her before your friends hid you and Sirius from the rest of the common room and let you duck under the cloak. Your back pressed up against Sirius’ when you straightened yourself out, his hand coming around your waist much like it had the many other times you’d borrowed the cloak. You stayed quiet as you left the thinning common room, walking down the stark halls of Hogwarts.

Sirius’ eyes moved off the path in front of him onto you as he exhaled humorously. “Ready to pamper me for a week, Y/L/N?” he mumbled into your ear, earning a gasp of surprise from what you thought was just the fright of being caught off guard. You peaked over your shoulder, feeling his grip adjust around you as you caught sight of his smug face.

“Are you mad? If anything, you’ll be treating me like a queen when this is all over.”

“And how is that different than how you act now?” He cocked, hearing you jokingly scoff.

“Well, when I win you can’t complain about it.” You told him, seeing his face falter slightly before the Sirius you knew was back.

“Care to wager then?” He asked. You raised a brow, interested in his suggestion as you beckoned for him to continue. “If you win, I won’t complain about doing things for you for a month.”

Your jaw dropped open. “But Siri, that’s half your personality! Who will you be if not against serving me whenever I call?” He snickered under his breath, knowing you were teasing him as you bit your lip. “And what will you get if you win?”

“When I win-“

“If.”

“When I win, you have to buy Butterbeers for me for the next month.” You took a minute to think over the bet. There was no real downside to losing, sure you’d have to buy Sirius his drinks for the next months, but that was only if you lost. All you’d have to do is not lose.

“Deal.” You whispered, sticking your hand behind you for Sirius to shake. He took it happily, shaking your hand before the sound of Filch coming around the corner caused you both to freeze. You knew you were invisible, but you didn’t want to make a noise just in case. Sirius pulled you closer to him, both of you pressing yourselves against the walls for the man to walked down the corridor without risk of running into you. You held your breath as he got closure, feeling Sirius hide in small laugh in your hair as you grabbed onto his hand.

No matter how many times you snuck out with your boys, you were always petrified when Filch showed up.

You waited a couple minutes after Filch was gone before you pulled away from Sirius, his hand releasing yours as your cheeks heated up. “Come on. The others are probably waiting.” You whispered, turning to look at Sirius.

“Good idea, love.” Despite being covered with the cloak, the moonlight streaming in through the window fell on his face, only calling attention to the happy, almost embarrassed look on his face as he nodded, letting you lead the way to the kitchen and back with Sirius’ arm wrapped around your waist again.

You threw the cape off the moment you entered the common room and saw it was just your friends, pulling Sirius to sit on the couch with you as you uncovered the food. You tossed an apologetic smile towards Marlene as 7 mini tarts you and Sirius managed to sneak sat on the tray.

“They didn’t really have any disgusting foods, mostly just leftovers from dessert.” She shrugged, picking up a treacle tart. She bit into it and everyone started to grab for the tarts and you were about to as well before Sirius grabbed one for you, a custard tart rather than a treacle tart because he knew you loved them more.

He sent you a wink before you all settled into your places on the floor around the small table in front of you with Marlene off to the side. “So, whoever eats theirs first wins? Doesn’t seem much like a challenge.” Peter asked as you all looked over to him. He was right, eating just one singular tart was nothing. You pulled out your wand, flicking it at the tart as you concentrated.

“Geminio!” You shouted as the mini tart in front of you doubled. You bit your lip as Sirius took his wand out and copied you, your friends following right along until you each had 30 tarts.

Marlene shook her head at you all. “Oh alright. Whoever eats all their tarts first wins. Ready?” She asked and everyone nodded. Sirius shot you a cheesy grin as you rolled your eyes, shooting one back. “Go!” Everyone picked up their first tart and bit into it. Almost as fast as you all started eating you stopped.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, spitting out the now bitten into Tart. Sirius, Lily, James, and Remus had reacted much like you and discarded tarts were tossed back onto the table. “Marlene! I thought you liked yours!”

It was only then did you realize the treacle tart Marlene had eaten was still in her hand, a small bite taken out of it. “I did! When I first bit into it… but after that, it started tasting a little… off. At least now my plan of disgusting foods still works.” You just stared at her, betrayed but also wanting to laugh at the situation before Sirius tugged on your arm.

“Uh, Y/N?” He whispered, pointing towards Peter. You turned to look, seeing Peter having already downed 3 tarts as your mouth fell open. “Wormtail, mate what are you doing? The tarts are bad.”

“Can’t talk…” he spoke between bites, shoveling another treacle tart into his mouth.  “Busy winning.” A quiet look at your friends sent you all scrambling to catch up, groans and gags coming from all of you as you ate the horrid food.

“Better catch up Y/N.” Sirius said as he picked up two tarts, taking bites out of both of them. He grimaced at the taste before swallowing, a second bite taken not long after. “I’m feeling extra parched lately, wouldn’t mind a butterbeer or five.” He smirked and you cackled, increasing your speed just slightly.

“You know Sirius, if you ate rather than run your mouth then perhaps, you’d have a chance at winning.” You told him, not giving much thought into your argument as you took lead over him by one whole tart. Sirius chuckled as you both continued eating, the occasional sound of laughter coming from you both when Sirius choked on a tart or you would gag, making the other think winning a possibility.

Sirius finished off the last bite of the treat he was working on and looked to you, seeing you slowing down and making a weird face. Almost like you were about to throw up as he furrowed his brows. He put a hand on your back, leaning over to talk to you before Peter’s voice interrupted him.

“Done!” The boy shouted as you all looked at his plate. True to his word, the plate was clear.

“Oh, thank god.” You moaned and tossed the half-eaten tart onto the table. You let yourself relax in your seat and your head fall into Sirius’ shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” He shook his head in disbelief at you, mentally thanking the fact that the challenge was over. Those tarts were disgusting. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another mini tart again.” Sirius grumbled and made you snort.

You nodded at him, feeling him move underneath you to stand up along with your friends. You sighed as you leaned back against the couch with an arm wrapped around your stomach. Sirius looked down at you, stretching his hand out to help you up. “I’m good thanks.” You grinned up at him, flashing your teeth comically as Sirius grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. “Nooo!” you groaned out and leaned onto Sirius. Lily giggled behind you as you glanced over Sirius and your shoulders, sticking your tongue out. Damn your other friends who hadn’t gone as hard as you and Sirius did.

“And the winner of the first challenge in the Jimmy Jab Games is-“ Marlene’s speech was cut off as Peter, who had rightfully won the challenge, covered his mouth when a loud grumble erupted in his stomach, alerting you all. “Uh, Peter?”

“I don’t feel so good.” He mumbled, running out of the room towards the bathroom. You all watched him leave, suddenly quite worried. Remus followed him out, being the one to check on him as you all tried to figure out what to do.

“Ok.” Marlene spoke slowly. “I guess that means Peter’s eliminated?” She asked you. You hesitated before nodding.

“I think that’d be best.”

“Alright then, the winner of the first challenge of the Jimmy Jab Games is…” Marlene stopped herself, quickly counting the small piles of tarts left over on the table. You chewed on your lip, seeing Sirius just as nervous as you as Marlene finished counting. She took her time to tell you the results, ending in all you yelling at her until Marlene stopped teasing. “Okay! The winner of round one is Sirius!”

“Yes!” Sirius shouted the same time you cried out no. He pumped his fist in the air, turning to you with a cocky smile as you crossed your arms in front of you, trying not to laugh at Sirius’ happy dance.

“How many did he eat?” James asked, falling into the couch and pulling Lily down with him.

“Uh, 24? I think.” Marlene said as she pushed around the last six tarts on Sirius’ plate.

“And how many did Y/N eat?” Sirius questions, running a hand over his mouth and pulling you into his side. Marlene looked down at your plate and held up your half-eaten tart.

“23 and a half.” She gave you a sad smile as your mouth fell open.

“What!” You growled, hearing Sirius cackle as he clung onto you, wrapping his arms around both your shoulders and pulling you into a hug. You stayed completely still, trying to keep an angry face on yourself but finding it way too hard not to laugh with your best friend hanging onto like this.

Sirius wasn’t even trying to hide his reaction. He used you for support, burying his head on your shoulder as he celebrated. “Don’t get too excited Siri. Just because you won one challenge, doesn’t mean you’ll win the game.” You told him, patting his back and letting your lips turn up slightly. You couldn’t help it! It was always so amusing seeing Sirius act like this.

He let his laughs die out slowly, pulling away to see your defeated yet happy face, completely unaware of the smug exchanges of his friends. “Aw, someone’s upset.” He faked pouted, bopping your nose with his finger as you shook your head, sticking your tongue out at him.

“I’m not upset.” You pretended to pout as well, making Sirius’ smile turn soft before he fell onto the couch, pulling you down next to him. Your friends took their seats too, no one saying a word as you leaned onto Sirius. “Round 2 tomorrow?” you asked them, specifically looking towards your lovely host who nodded her head. “Alright then, probably should get some rest if I’m planning on beating this git.” You patted Sirius’ knee as you pushed yourself up.

“Oh, in your dreams, Y/N.” You threw your head back and guffawed, sending Sirius a wink as you linked arms with Marlene to head upstairs.

“Lily? You coming?” You asked seeing the girl stay in her place despite James kissing her and leaving himself.

“No, you go ahead. I’ll be up soon.” She shooed you as you furrowed your brows, but left the room. Sirius found himself watching you leave, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before facing front. His eyes locked with Lily’s who was staring him down, a smirk on her lips that caused his stomach to drop.

“What?” He questioned her and shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh nothing.” She said and leaned back in her seat, waving her hand in the air to dismiss the question. “I was just watching you be in love with Y/N.”

Sirius froze, actually freezing in his seat as Lily held back a laugh. He finally came to his senses, clearing his throat much harsher than he meant to. “What uh, I mean, what are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Sirius. You know what I’m talking about. The playful bickering, wanting to make sure she was alright during the challenge, the clinging onto each other, the everyday flirting-“

“Flirting?! Y/N and I don’t flirt with other!” He objected, trying to find a flaw in Lily’s thinking. The red head just rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Take it as you want, but I know a thing or two about dancing around feelings. Trust me, Y/N’s in the same place.” She stood up, fixing her shirt before shrugging. “But if you don’t feel that way for her, forget I said anything.”

Sirius didn’t say anything as Lily left him. He’d never thought the way he acted around you meant he was in love with you. Sure, he was always more comfortable when you were around and you and him always tended to be touchier and more personal towards each other than the rest of the group or the way he could tell you anything and you’d never judge him, in fact sometimes you knew him better than he knew himself.

But that didn’t mean he was in love with you.

Did it?

A/N: Alright! You all waited long enough for me to get my shit together so here it is! The first part of the Jimmy Jab Games! Part 2 will be up tomorrow (May 29) at some point during the day, so you want to be tagged let me know. 

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[potatotrash0]

Your DR magic AU, hand it over 🤲

Okay I have two other anons and I’m just gonna split the character ideas among the three asks. I don’t quite have a plot thought out, and most of these characters’ concepts have only existed in my head up until now...bare with me skdjksjfkd

Mm I talked about them briefly in Prom’s ask? But here’s a more in-depth thing of the THH fighting styles.

Makoto is a mage-type. (I used fighter, support, and mage to describe the various adventurer types it’s temporary just roll with it) Again, he can’t really hold magic for very long? He’s got a large mana reserve but it’s hard to activate and harder to control, so he’s currently working on mastering the little bullets. In the future, I imagine large barrages of bullets would sort of circle around him like they would in the barrel of a gun.

He probably got in accidentally? I’m not entirely sure about this, but I think there’s an entrance exam for Reserve Courses and he was probably forced in on Komaru’s behalf for some reason.

He was basically running the entire time until the very end when he panicked and suddenly the entire field was wiped clean from him waving his arm. HPA saw that, decided that he was worth training, and put him into the Main Course. He doesn’t feel very good about getting in that way, but HPA isn’t exactly empathetic like he is. Again this is like one of three ways I think he could’ve gotten in with the rest of the cast because I’m indecisive skdjsjf

Kyoko is another mage-type, in general the Main Gangs of each game have various themes. THH’s trio has a magic theme, they all use magic. She doesn’t use a weapon, though I’m thinking her gloves act as a limiter of sorts?

As a general rule, more mana means less control, and being half-demon gives her a lot of it. Her gloves help her regulate her mana output so that she doesn’t use too much of it when attacking and tire herself out. Later in the timeline, I imagine there might be a scene where she takes them off and fights off some enemies to buy the rest of the class time to escape something? She would get trapped in the process, but I think this would happen after she’s worked with Makoto for a while and she would trust him enough to believe he would come back for her if she didn’t return.

Oh this isn’t related to her fighting style but on the topic of her being half-demon, that’s mainly because I thought it was boring for everyone to be human and I’m a big sucker for fantasy species so yeah. She’s a cambion.

She has purple-tinted skin, horns that curl up and are fairly close to her head, a thin pointed tail, pointed ears, her pupils are slitted, she’s got carnivore-style teeth, her nails are longer and sharper by default. Whenever she uses the full extent of her magic, her scleras turn dark purple and her irises turn white. Oh yeah her scars came from an accident she had when she was young where her magic got out of control and burned her hands. Her mom’s the demon by the way, for no particular reason, I just thought that the Kirigiris would stay human in this and I don’t know anything about her mom’s side of the family.

I just realized I never said Makoto’s race skdjks he’s human!! He and Komaru just happen to be a special case and have a lot of mana. Most other humans in this AU aren’t so lucky. (cough hinata cough cough)

Byakuya, again, uses magic. He’s the only one who uses a weapon in the Trio, he uses a staff specially made by the Togami family. He also knows how to use a sword and a bow.

I haven’t put too much thought into him, but I know for a fact that his adventuring outfit would have a big sweeping cape later in the timeline. In the beginning though, he just has a stupid expensive suit. The cape comes in later as he, Kyoko, and Makoto start to group up more and more.

I’ve decided that adventurers in this AU group up just as often as they go solo, and while Byakuya would initially be solo, he would deem Makoto and Kyoko strong enough to work with whenever they’re taking on a difficult job.

Groups would change to have matching designs the longer they’re partnered up, and capes/cloaks happen to be the THH Trio’s Thing, as in all three of them would have a cape/cloak of some sort. Byakuya because he’s pretentious, Makoto because he thinks it looks cool, and Kyoko because she uses the cloak for practical reasons like storing things and keeping a low profile when needed. Oh and Byakuya’s bloodline is of royal elven descent, their business is selling spellbooks, runestones, potions, reagents, any magical item you could think of.

Sayaka is a half-siren mage! She mostly uses charm and illusionary magic, as well as healing so that she can support her allies. Later on, she might learn water magic so she can actually deal damage as well. I haven’t decided on her weapon of choice, perhaps she uses a lyre or casts spells from a book. I’m also debating having her learn hand-to-hand combat instead of water magic?

I just like the idea of someone coming up and trying to challenge her, thinking they’ll beat her easily, and barely getting a hit in before she kicks their legs out from under them and tosses them over her shoulder like they weigh nothing. She deserves to take out people twice her size and be menacing, as a treat for the amount of disrespect she gets in the fandom. And I want her to take Leon down a peg because he definitely acts a little like a cocky frat boy sometimes.

Speaking of Leon, we’ve got our first fighter-type!!! I could have him use a baseball bat but that’s boring so I’m thinking he might utilize items as well as a weapon? Bombs or grenades that look like a baseball and explode on impact, baseballs that ignite when thrown and act as fire balls. Alas, I don’t think about him much so this is all just me throwing ideas to see what sticks.

Whatever the case, the main thing I know would happen is that he frequently gets help from Kazuichi and Miu because he just cannot for the life of him stop breaking his equipment. He’s reckless and rushes into battle and now that he doesn’t have Kanon to stop him from setting stuff on fire all the time, he gets detention a lot. (And no she isn’t into him like in canon, I refuse to acknowledge that she ever was.)

Chihiro......they can’t fight djfjsjfjjf. They specialize in making tech and weapons, and in the beginning, would mainly use robots that they programmed to support their allies. Though, they do end up training with Mondo, Sakura, and Aoi to help them become better at combat, and eventually they join everyone else on the front lines as a ranged fighter/support type.

Also, the robots would kinda follow them around like pets. Cute little guys that can also shoot lasers. The robots are powered by mana crystals and each one has a different personality and magic type! Sometimes they follow around different people, the electric one took a liking to Mondo and you’ll see it floating around while he works out. They’re buds.

On the topic of Mondo, he’s another fighter-type! He’s more hand-to-hand combat. A controlled berserker, if you will. Probably started out fighting guys in his hometown and progressed to clearing out monsters when Daiya got concerned about his temper? Perhaps. Maybe. I do not think about Daiya I apologize.

Oh wait hold on. I’m looking at his character art and he’s got a hammer.........it’s decided he uses a warhammer, the biggest one they’ve got, and it’s probably a mana-based weapon. Specifically electric. He and that lil robot wipe the battlefield with their opponents >:D

Taka is probably a fighter-type? I can’t for the life of me find where I read this, but apparently he’s really good at self-defense so I imagine he does hand-to-hand combat as well as sword-fighting for the Noble Paladin Aesthetic.

Hifumi was originally a mage-type, but upon second thought, I’m making him a support-type who uses items and potions and stuff! I like the idea of him making fun little bottles and potions themed after his favorite animes and mangas..........he also definitely helped everyone design their adventurer outfits. He’s the only reason that Makoto’s outfit isn’t boring as hell.

Celeste is, of course, a mage-type. She’s Miss Lolita of course I have to make her an ethereal magic user alright also I love her and I love mages let me have this skfjdkjf. As for her weapon, my first thought was her having playing cards that she throws HxH style?

Or she could summon goons to fight for her, playing into the whole loyal servant dream she has. They would be vaguely themed after the cards, so there would be a jack, king, queen, and joker, all of different magic types depending on the suit of the card she throws. Electric for a spade, fire for a heart, ice for a diamond, something along those lines.

I’m also considering having her little...finger armor thing? I’m thinking of having that cross into her magic, where she attacks with claw-like things formed out of mana. Of course she could also just. Use the cards to cast spells directly skdjksjfkhf

Sakura is definitely a fighter-type. Again, hand-to-hand style, but I imagine she’s more controlled and strategic than Mondo. I can’t see her using a weapon, so I guess she’s like one of the only characters to fight exclusively with fists.

Mukuro’s a ranged fighter-type, but she can also do melee. She uses magic-based guns, ones that shoot mana infused bullets. They have a variety of effects depending on the type of bullet and magic. (I’m not a gun person so take this with a grain of salt.)

Bullets that break apart might be laced with electric magic so that they can shock a target from several points, or fire magic if she’s aiming to start a fire quickly. Exploding bullets are usually used with fire magic, but she might switch to ice if she wants to create a barrage of ice shards for...some reason, I don’t know. There’s more combinations I could probably make, but I’m. Not here to spend an hour researching guns. Not right now at least, who knows what I’ll want info on in the future.

Mmmmmm I’m starting to lose patience here so forgive me for the shorter explanations. I might throw in a fun fact about them for ✨ flavor ✨

Junko’s a fighter/mage-type! She uses a scythe and laces the blade with magic. She could combine it with fire magic to create a flaming scythe and go nuts with it, or she could just channel general mana and slam the blade into the ground to create a big crack in the ground.

There’s about an 80% chance she gets several weapons later in the timeline. Her scythe, a spear, possibly a gun. Monokuma probably exists, I like to think Junko ran into a smarter monster and tamed it and kept it as a slightly feral pet.

Also, yes, she’s still a big adrenaline junkie who gets off on despair. If you see her fighting things she knows are out of her league, mind your business.....actually, call someone to help before she gets herself killed. Please.

I haven’t decided what Aoi will be just yet? I’m veering towards fighter/mage-type, she could use water magic and maybe a leg-based fighting style. Possibly judo or taekwondo. I.....do not have any ideas for her. However I do know that she and Sakura would have a bunch of combo moves together dkfjkejfkdjjd

Toko is a mage-type! She probably uses a book to cast spells from. Or just uses her hands. She would fight ranged, I don’t think she’d want to be up in the action. Too much stress for her, y’know? I

As for Syo, she fight differently than Toko! She technically uses dual swords, but the swords can also connect to create a giant pair of scissors. Again, this is just sort of a fun character thing, but she gets to hate Byakuya in this AU. They have arguments and get on each other’s nerves a lot, but I think the rest of the class usually separates them before anything serious happens.

At some point after Toko befriends Komaru, I like to think that Syo gets a proper fight scene with Byakuya where she rips into him. I don’t think Toko would want to hurt anyone though, even him, so Syo would probably leave him with a few minor cuts at most.

Afterwards, I think Byakuya would quiet down with the insults with Naegi and Kyoko’s requests. (Well. Naegi asked him to try and be nicer because he was worried that they might fight again. Kyoko just bluntly told him that he needed to stop being a jerk and start considering everyone else’s feelings.)

Skfksjfkdh ah. I also like to think Komaru and Toko were initially partnered up by HPA for a job. They were assigned to deal with a couple of school kids wreaking havoc on a nearby city with some monsters they semi-tamed?

But after finishing the job, they decided to partner up permanently on their own. They probably have a few combo moves that Komaru came up with, Toko tweaked them to make them actually possible with their skill set and weapons.

Hiro is...possibly a mage/support-type? He’s probably a bit cowardly and freaks out when on the front lines, but he can use a crystal ball to attack from afar. I’m also considering giving him tarot cards so that he can toss them and attack from several points at once?

Or the ball could shatter at some point during the story and he could just roll with it and spread the shards out during battle to attack from several points at once. They could also be used to create a magic cage of sorts, like electric fence but only electricity.

Okay that’s everybody oh my god. I have plenty more stuff about this au, this isn’t even half of it trust me lmao. I’m sorry about this being so long I didn’t realize it’d be this wordy!!!!!

[gerbiloftriumph]

So you wanna be a king

Or perhaps just cosplay one.

By request, here’s how I, at least, put together my King Graham outfit.

Part 1: Cloak and Cowl

Disclaimer: I’m totally novice at cosplay and only do it for like one event per year if that, so take what you will or throw it all away.

Also I made this like three years ago, so the details get sorta hazy.

Step one: Research. The best part. Take lots of screencaps of Graham from every angle. Hoard the pictures in your phone like a dragon. Stare at them. They’re lovely. He’s lovely. 

Ready to commit to this? It’s mildly expensive and Mostly Time Consuming. But that outfit looks so neat...and I love him...okay. Still good?

Let’s do this.

Let’s start with the cloak and the cowl. The bit that everyone notices first, the dramatic part that snaps behind you when you walk and makes 2015 Graham stand apart from his 1980s days (...other than also not wearing pink anymore).

The best part other than the hat, really.

By the game’s own proof, the cowl and cloak are separate pieces. Which makes your life easier.

I chose a springy red fabric from Joann’s called bengaline. It stretches one way, not both, and it’s delightfully weighted so it snaps and catches the wind in pleasing ways--the effect when walking is almost as bouncy as the video game version. Should you choose the same, know that bengaline is primarily plastic and cannot be ironed (seriously, don’t)--steam it or get it wet and let it air dry to remove wrinkles. Check it out here: https://www.joann.com/sew-classics-bengaline-suiting/xprd757777.html

Bengaline does not feel heavy when you pick it up in the store. It becomes heavy as you wear it. Your shoulders might revolt. Feel free to pick something lighter, cheaper, or whatever is available in the shade of red you love most, but remember that the lighter the fabric weight, the happier you’ll be. Please do not pick velvet. A day at con reveals all truths. Be aware of what you’re putting your shoulders through.

For your reference, according to the receipt I found I apparently bought 6 yards of it (with a half off coupon). This is overkill. You probably don’t need 6 yards. I think I have a ton of it left over and smooshed into deep storage. But then again, it’s red and red is always useful in cosplay, so it doesn’t hurt to have leftovers.

Why reinvent the wheel? I used this tutorial here for the base cloak: https://dangerous-ladies.tumblr.com/post/41564161303/so-you-wanna-wear-a-cape-god-this-new

yes you want a circle cape, not a square cape. circle capes catch the wind better. you’ll be able to tell the difference, i promise.

Side note: you might think you want your cloak to touch your ankles. It looks like Graham’s does. You do not want this. When it scrapes the ground at comic con or renfest, it will get filthy, it will shred, and people (especially you) will step on the back of it. It might even get eaten by an escalator at con. Go up an inch or two--a little goes a long way. It’ll still look great, and you won’t choke.

plus depending on how you stand no one can tell anyway.

Now, for my numbers:

I am 5′6″. I chose 56.5″ (that includes my hem allowance) so that the cloak itself actually ‘swings’ at 55.5″. I copied the tutorial’s neck hole exactly (6″ ‘swing’).

Follow the tutorial’s instructions for the rolled hem. Pin everything. You will hate pins. You may bleed. Doesn’t matter. The cosplay gods are cruel. Keep pinning. If you picked bengaline like I did do not iron it just suffer in silence. Go slowly and carefully, and fight the curve to be as flat as you can.

Time to sew! Put on Game Grump’s King’s Quest 5 LP because it’s the best, and go slowly around your circle at the default sewing machine stitch.

I don’t recommend hand stitching. There is too much fabric and you want to have some sort of life at the end of this. Check with your local public library or that weird relative you forgot about if you don’t have a machine yourself.

Cool, that’s a cloak! Admire it, it’s lovely. I mean, you don’t have a way to wear it yet, but you’re maybe 68% done here so, that’s great!

Cowl time!

I don’t have reference images for what I did three years ago, and there are probably better ways to do this. Feel free to experiment, but here’s how I (probably?) did it:

Measure around your arms and upper chest approximately where the cowl will lay, and make sure you give yourself extra inches so you can still move comfortably. For me, that’s around 48-50″ around. I don’t remember what motivated my number selection for the neck part--it must be wide enough to go around your head, plus room to play with it to make it lie in fun ways like Graham’s. Apparently I picked 28″.

Play with scrap fabric, or if you have lots of extra red feel free to make extra sizes. My cowl looks like this:

That’s 14″ along the neck, 24″ along the body, and a length of 18″--but with a secret 6.5″ tucked inside the cowl itself, so the fabric really is 24.5″ long.

Why would I do that?

To tuck the cowl into the jerkin/undershirt collar and make it look seamless, like a video game character.

Ain’t no sight of tunic around that neck.

Also, the extra fabric gives it more stability and strength, allowing you to play with the collar and get that high edge he has rather than flat fabric. I’d even considered stringing a wire through it in early days, but if you use bengaline the fabric is sturdy enough on its own. Your fabric selection may act differently.

So, I’ve “hidden” 6.5″ worth of fabric in the collar. What would that look like as a pattern? I don’t remember for certain since I didn’t write it down but it probably looked like this:

okay maybe like half an inch seam allowance. an inch is probably overkill. don’t be me.

Since I didn’t want the thickness of a real hem, I did, like, a herringbone stitch (looks like zigzaging triangles) along the part that gets tucked in to the shirt to prevent any fraying, and then I folded it at the dotted line and sewed it in place to get a permanent line.

Unfolded, it looks like this:

In practice, it looks like this:

From the back, it ends up looking a little something like-a this:

Cool, cloak and cowl! You still don’t have a way to wear it, but the pieces are nice. Maybe unfinished and kinda boring, though, since Graham’s King Cloak is Such Luxury.

I mean, it’s fine that way. But it feels unfinished if you’re doing Prologue or Ch2 Graham.

Trimming time~.

I bought one 1″ wide red satin trim roll, and two 2 ¼” red satin trim rolls. Pin the wider trim all along the INNER bottom hem of your cloak (the side with the rolled hem on it), sew slowly. Get your second fresh roll so you don’t run out midway, and do the same on the EXTERIOR. This way, any wonky uneven lines are hidden on the inside and less noticeable.

Nice rule of thumb for cosplay I’ve learned: if you can’t see a mistake from 5 feet away, no one can. Don’t panic.

Do not sew both sides at the same time. It’s tempting, but hard enough to sew around a curve already without trying to keep both sides remotely even. To finish, I folded the long ends over, matched the hem with the cloak, and went for it.

And do the same to the bottom of the cowl with your thinner trim--you only have to do the exterior since no one can see the interior of that piece, so it’s much easier.

Cool! You’re done! You’ve got a cloak and cowl, trimmed and gorgeous.

“But Gerbil,” I hear you complain, “I still can’t wear it! It doesn’t have any attachment to me, even though I have lots of attachment to it since I just dumped like a hundred hours and at least $50 into it.”

Fair enough.

If you used bengaline like me, you’ll discover very quickly that it’s heavy heavy heavy. It’s gorgeous and thick and looks great, but the weight. Sure, it didn’t feel heavy when you bought it, when you sewed with it, when you first put it on. But it’s hour six of wearing it, and your shoulders hate you. If it hangs off your neck like you would assume a cloak should, you will choke. It hurts. The weight must sit on your shoulders.

Luckily, this costume has two separate pieces, and the cowl is going to hide where it hooks to you.

You’re going to buy two snap clips. The big ones. Like, at least an inch. You’re going to pick out an anchor t-shirt from Goodwill. It literally doesn’t matter what it looks like, but it’s going to be one size too small and will go up to your neck. You need it to be totally comfortable to wear (the more breathable the better--this is a hot cosplay), but tight enough that it will not shift under the weight of your cloak movement, thus the smaller size. Sew the snaps to the inside of the cloak and just above your collar bone on the shirt.

(apparently Superman wears it like this too, go figure)

(you might want to wait to sew the snaps on until your jerkin/tunic is finished before you sew the snaps to your anchor shirt, so you can be sure the collars match up--you need to have room for the snaps to sit on the anchor shirt, but still sit under your tunic)

(if you think of a better solution, have at, but please, do not tie it around your neck regardless of the type of material you bought. If anyone steps on the back, yourself included, and it’s attached by your neck, you’re out for the day. Do not.)

(also, one more pitch for the snaps--say your cloak does get caught on something. a wandering dragon, a passing knight’s sword, or ye olde con escalator. if it’s attached by snaps, not ties, it’ll pop right off with enough force, leaving you unharmed, but the snaps are heavy duty enough to stay put all weekend or multiple years without trouble)

And you’re done. That’s a cloak and cowl fine enough for a king, friend. Or at least fine enough for comic con.

A note on the out and about: you’re probably going to feel worn out after a few hours at con. Take frequent sitting breaks. After a few times wearing it you’ll get used to it and can fly around in it all weekend without trouble, but the first few times add unexpected strain to your neck and shoulders so take it a little easier.

Also, high key recommend handwashing the cloak (yes, the whole thing, it smooshes down well in water, I promise, it’s doable, just difficult) in your (clean!) bathroom sink with handwashing detergent, and laying it out to dry on towels. I wouldn’t trust the satin trim to hold up to a machine, but it withstands sink washing just fine.

(Was that useful? Was that atrocious? Do you want more pieces how-to’d? Do you want a full How-To-Graham Tutorial? Let me know, happy to ramble more!)

[readbookywooks]

Tyrion

The queen was not disposed to wait on Varys. "Treason is vile enough," she declared furiously, "but this is barefaced naked villainy, and I do not need that mincing eunuch to tell me what must be done with villains."

Tyrion took the letters from his sister's hand and compared them side by side. There were two copies, the words exactly alike, though they had been written by different hands.

"Maester Frenken received the first missive at Castle Stokeworth," Grand Maester Pycelle explained. "The second copy came through Lord Gyles."

Littlefinger fingered his beard. "If Stannis bothered with them, it's past certain every other lord in the Seven Kingdoms saw a copy as well."

"I want these letters burned, every one," Cersei declared. "No hint of this must reach my son's ears, or my father's."

"I imagine Father's heard rather more than a hint by now," Tyrion said dryly. "Doubtless Stannis sent a bird to Casterly Rock, and another to Harrenhal. As for burning the letters, to what point? The song is sung, the wine is spilled, the wench is pregnant. And this is not as dire as it seems, in truth."

Cersei turned on him in green-eyed fury. "Are you utterly witless? Did you read what he says? The boy Joffrey, he calls him. And he dares to accuse me of incest, adultery, and treason!"

Only because you're guilty. It was astonishing to see how angry Cersei could wax over accusations she knew perfectly well to be true. If we lose the war, she ought to take up mummery, she has a gift for it. Tyrion waited until she was done and said, "Stannis must have some pretext to justify his rebellion. What did you expect him to write? ‘Joffrey is my brother's trueborn son and heir, but I mean to take his throne for all that'? "

"I will not suffer to be called a whore!"

Why, sister, he never claims Jaime paid you. Tyrion made a show of glancing over the writing again. There had been some niggling phrase . . . "Done in the Light of the Lord," he read. "A queer choice of words, that."

Pycelle cleared his throat. "These words often appear in letters and documents from the Free Cities. They mean no more than, let us say, written in the sight of god. The god of the red priests. It is their usage, I do believe."

"Varys told us some years past that Lady Selyse had taken up with a red priest," Littlefinger reminded them.

Tyrion tapped the paper. "And now it would seem her lord husband has done the same. We can use that against him. Urge the High Septon to reveal how Stannis has turned against the gods as well as his rightful king . . . "

"Yes, yes," the queen said impatiently, "but first we must stop this filth from spreading further. The council must issue an edict. Any man heard speaking of incest or calling Joff a bastard should lose his tongue for it."

"A prudent measure," said Grand Maester Pycelle, his chain of office clinking as he nodded.

"A folly," sighed Tyrion. "When you tear out a man's tongue, you are not proving him a liar, you're only telling the world that you fear what he might say."

"So what would you have us do?" his sister demanded.

"Very little. Let them whisper, they'll grow bored with the tale soon enough. Any man with a thimble of sense will see it for a clumsy attempt to justify usurping the crown. Does Stannis offer proof? How could he, when it never happened?" Tyrion gave his sister his sweetest smile.

"That's so," she had to say. "Still . . . "

"Your Grace, your brother has the right of this." Petyr Baelish steepled his fingers. "If we attempt to silence this talk, we only lend it credence. Better to treat it with contempt, like the pathetic lie it is. And meantime, fight fire with fire."

Cersei gave him a measuring look. "What sort of fire?"

"A tale of somewhat the same nature, perhaps. But more easily believed. Lord Stannis has spent most of his marriage apart from his wife. Not that I fault him, I'd do the same were I married to Lady Selyse. Nonetheless, if we put it about that her daughter is baseborn and Stannis a cuckold, well . . . the smallfolk are always eager to believe the worst of their lords, particularly those as stern, sour, and prickly proud as Stannis Baratheon."

"He has never been much loved, that's true." Cersei considered a moment. "So we pay him back in his own coin. Yes, I like this. Who can we name as Lady Selyse's lover? She has two brothers, I believe. And one of her uncles has been with her on Dragonstone all this time . . . "

"Ser Axell Florent is her castellan." Loath as Tyrion was to admit it, Littlefinger's scheme had promise. Stannis had never been enamored of his wife, but he was bristly as a hedgehog where his honor was concerned and mistrustful by nature. If they could sow discord between him and his followers, it could only help their cause. "The child has the Florent ears, I'm told."

Littlefinger gestured languidly. "A trade envoy from Lys once observed to me that Lord Stannis must love his daughter very well, since he'd erected hundreds of statues of her all along the walls of Dragonstone. ‘My lord' I had to tell him, ‘those are gargoyles.' " He chuckled. "Ser Axell might serve for Shireen's father, but in my experience, the more bizarre and shocking a tale the more apt it is to be repeated. Stannis keeps an especially grotesque fool, a lackwit with a tattooed face."

Grand Maester Pycelle gaped at him, aghast. "Surely you do not mean to suggest that Lady Selyse would bring a fool into her bed?"

"You'd have to be a fool to want to bed Selyse Florent," said Littlefinger. "Doubtless Patchface reminded her of Stannis. And the best lies contain within them nuggets of truth, enough to give a listener pause. As it happens, this fool is utterly devoted to the girl and follows her everywhere. They even look somewhat alike. Shireen has a mottled, half-frozen face as well."

Pycelle was lost. "But that is from the greyscale that near killed her as a babe, poor thing."

"I like my tale better," said Littlefinger, "and so will the smallfolk. Most of them believe that if a woman eats rabbit while pregnant, her child will be born with long floppy ears."

Cersei smiled the sort of smile she customarily reserved for Jaime. "Lord Petyr, you are a wicked creature."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"And a most accomplished liar," Tyrion added, less warmly. This one is more dangerous than I knew, he reflected.

Littlefinger's grey-green eyes met the dwarf's mismatched stare with no hint of unease. "We all have our gifts, my lord."

The queen was too caught up in her revenge to take note of the exchange. "Cuckolded by a halfwit fool! Stannis will be laughed at in every winesink this side of the narrow sea."

"The story should not come from us," Tyrion said, "or it will be seen for a self-serving lie." Which it is, to be sure.

Once more Littlefinger supplied the answer. "Whores love to gossip, and as it happens I own a brothel or three. And no doubt Varys can plant seeds in the alehouses and pot-shops."

"Varys," Cersei said, frowning. "Where is Varys?"

"I have been wondering about that myself, Your Grace."

"The Spider spins his secret webs day and night," Grand Maester Pycelle said ominously. "I mistrust that one, my lords."

"And he speaks so kindly of you." Tyrion pushed himself off his chair. As it happened, he knew what the eunuch was about, but it was nothing the other councillors needed to hear. "Pray excuse me, my lords. Other business calls."

Cersei was instantly suspicious. "King's business?"

"Nothing you need trouble yourself about."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Would you spoil my surprise?" Tyrion said. "I'm having a gift made for Joffrey. A little chain."

"What does he need with another chain? He has gold chains and silver, more than he can wear. If you think for a moment you can buy Joff's love with gifts—"

"Why, surely I have the king's love, as he has mine. And this chain I believe he may one day treasure above all others." The little man bowed and waddled to the door.

Bronn was waiting outside the council chambers to escort him back to the Tower of the Hand. "The smiths are in your audience chamber, waiting your pleasure," he said as they crossed the ward.

"Waiting my pleasure. I like the ring of that, Bronn. You almost sound a proper courtier. Next you'll be kneeling."

"Fuck you, dwarf."

"That's Shae's task." Tyrion heard Lady Tanda calling to him merrily from the top of the serpentine steps. Pretending not to notice her, he waddled a bit faster. "See that my litter is readied, I'll be leaving the castle as soon as I'm done here." Two of the Moon Brothers had the door guard. Tyrion greeted them pleasantly, and grimaced before starting up the stairs. The climb to his bedchamber made his legs ache.

Within he found a boy of twelve laying out clothing on the bed; his squire, such that he was. Podrick Payne was so shy he was furtive. Tyrion had never quite gotten over the suspicion that his father had inflicted the boy on him as a joke.

"Your garb, my lord," the boy mumbled when Tyrion entered, staring down at his boots. Even when he worked up the courage to speak, Pod could never quite manage to look at you. "For the audience. And your chain. The Hand's chain."

"Very good. Help me dress." The doublet was black velvet covered with golden studs in the shape of lions' heads, the chain a loop of solid gold hands, the fingers of each clasping the wrist of the next. Pod brought him a cloak of crimson silk fringed in gold, cut to his height. On a normal man, it would be no more than a half cape.

The Hand's private audience chamber was not so large as the king's, nor a patch on the vastness of the throne room, but Tyrion liked its Myrish rugs, wall hangings, and sense of intimacy. As he entered, his steward cried out, "Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King." He liked that too. The gaggle of smiths, armorers, and ironmongers that Bronn had collected fell to their knees.

He hoisted himself up into the high seat under the round golden window and bid them rise. "Goodmen, I know you are all busy, so I will be succinct. Pod, if you please." The boy handed him a canvas sack. Tyrion yanked the drawstring and upended the bag. Its contents spilled onto the rug with a muffled thunk of metal on wool. "I had these made at the castle forge. I want a thousand more just like them."

One of the smiths knelt to inspect the object: three immense steel links, twisted together. "A mighty chain."

"Mighty, but short," the dwarf replied. "Somewhat like me. I fancy one a good deal longer. Do you have a name?"

"They call me Ironbelly, m'lord." The smith was squat and broad, plainly dressed in wool and leather, but his arms were as thick as a bull's neck.

"I want every forge in King's Landing turned to making these links and joining them. All other work is to be put aside. I want every man who knows the art of working metal set to this task, be he master, journeyman, or apprentice. When I ride up the Street of Steel, I want to hear hammers ringing, night or day. And I want a man, a strong man, to see that all this is done. Are you that man, Goodman Ironbelly?"

"Might be I am, m'lord. But what of the mail and swords the queen was wanting?"

Another smith spoke up. "Her Grace commanded us to make chainmail and armor, swords and daggers and axes, all in great numbers. For arming her new gold cloaks, m'lord."

"That work can wait," Tyrion said. "The chain first."

"M'lord, begging your pardon, Her Grace said those as didn't meet their numbers would have their hands crushed," the anxious Smith persisted. "Smashed on their own anvils, she said."

Sweet Cersei, always striving to make the smallfolk love us. "No one will have their hands smashed. You have my word on it."

"Iron is grown dear," Ironbelly declared, "and this chain will be needing much of it, and coke beside, for the fires."

"Lord Baelish will see that you have coin as you need it," Tyrion promised. He could count on Littlefinger for that much, he hoped. "I will command the City Watch to help you find iron. Melt down every horseshoe in this city if you must."

An older man moved forward, richly dressed in a damask tunic with silver fastenings and a cloak lined with foxfur. He knelt to examine the great steel links Tyrion had dumped on the floor. "My lord," he announced gravely, "this is crude work at best. There is no art to it. Suitable labor for common smiths, no doubt, for men who bend horseshoes and hammer out kettles, but I am a master armorer, as it please my lord. This is no work for me, nor my fellow masters. We make swords as sharp as song, armor such as a god might wear. Not this."

Tyrion tilted his head to the side and gave the man a dose of his mismatched eyes. "What is your name, master armorer?"

"Salloreon, as it please my lord. If the King's Hand will permit, I should be most honored to forge him a suit of armor suitable to his House and high office." Two of the others sniggered, but Salloreon plunged ahead, heedless. "Plate and scale, I think. The scales gilded bright as the sun, the plate enameled a deep Lannister crimson. I would suggest a demon's head for a helm, crowned with tall golden horns. When you ride into battle, men will shrink away in fear."

A demon's head, Tyrion thought ruefully, now what does that say of me? "Master Salloreon, I plan to fight the rest of my battles from this chair. It's links I need, not demon horns. So let me put it to you this way. You will make chains, or you will wear them. The choice is yours." He rose, and took his leave with nary a backward glance.

Bronn was waiting by the gate with his litter and an escort of mounted Black Ears. "You know where we're bound," Tyrion told him. He accepted a hand up into the litter. He had done all he could to feed the hungry city—he'd set several hundred carpenters to building fishing boats in place of catapults, opened the kingswood to any hunter who dared to cross the river, even sent gold cloaks foraging to the west and south—yet he still saw accusing eyes everywhere he rode. The litter's curtains shielded him from that, and besides gave him leisure to think.

As they wound their slow way down twisty Shadowblack Lane to the foot of Aegon's High Hill, Tyrion reflected on the events of the morning. His sister's ire had led her to overlook the true significance of Stannis Baratheon's letter. Without proof, his accusations were nothing; what mattered was that he had named himself a king. And what will Renly make of that? They could not both sit the Iron Throne.

Idly, he pushed the curtain back a few inches to peer out at the streets. Black Ears rode on both sides of him, their grisly necklaces looped about their throats, while Bronn went in front to clear the way. He watched the passersby watching him, and played a little game with himself, trying to sort the informers from the rest. The ones who look the most suspicious are likely innocent, he decided. It's the ones who look innocent I need to beware.

His destination was behind the hill of Rhaenys, and the streets were crowded. Almost an hour had passed before the litter swayed to a stop. Tyrion was dozing, but he woke abruptly when the motion ceased, rubbed the sand from his eyes, and accepted Bronn's hand to climb down.

The house was two stories tall, stone below and timber above. A round turret rose from one corner of the structure. Many of the windows were leaded. Over the door swung an ornate lamp, a globe of gilded metal and scarlet glass.

"A brothel," Bronn said. "What do you mean to do here?"

"What does one usually do in a brothel?"

The sellsword laughed. "Shae's not enough?"

"She was pretty enough for a camp follower, but I'm no longer in camp. Little men have big appetites, and I'm told the girls here are fit for a king."

"Is the boy old enough?"

"Not Joffrey. Robert. This house was a great favorite of his." Although Joffrey may indeed be old enough. An interesting notion, that. "If you and the Black Ears care to amuse yourselves, feel free, but Chataya's girls are costly. You'll find cheaper houses all along the street. Leave one man here who'll know where to find the others when I wish to return."

Bronn nodded. "As you say." The Black Ears were all grins.

Inside the door, a tall woman in flowing silks was waiting for him. She had ebon skin and sandalwood eyes. "I am Chataya," she announced, bowing deeply. "And you are—"

"Let us not get into the habit of names. Names are dangerous." The air smelled of some exotic spice, and the floor beneath his feet displayed a mosaic of two women entwined in love. "You have a pleasant establishment."

"I have labored long to make it so. I am glad the Hand is pleased." Her voice was flowing amber, liquid with the accents of the distant Summer Isles.

"Titles can be as dangerous as names," Tyrion warned. "Show me a few of your girls."

"It will be my great delight. You will find that they are all as sweet as they are beautiful, and skilled in every art of love." She swept off gracefully, leaving Tyrion to waddle after as best he could on legs half the length of hers.

From behind an ornate Myrish screen carved with flowers and fancies and dreaming maidens, they peered unseen into a common room where an old man was playing a cheerful air on the pipes. In a cushioned alcove, a drunken Tyroshi with a purple beard dandled a buxom young wench on his knee. He'd unlaced her bodice and was tilting his cup to pour a thin trickle of wine over her breasts so he might lap it off. Two other girls sat playing at tiles before a leaded glass window. The freckled one wore a chain of blue flowers in her honeyed hair. The other had skin as smooth and black as polished jet, wide dark eyes, small pointed breasts. They dressed in flowing silks cinched at the waist with beaded belts. The sunlight pouring through the colored glass outlined their sweet young bodies through the thin cloth, and Tyrion felt a stirring in his groin. "I would respectfully suggest the dark-skinned girl," said Chataya.

"She's young."

"She has sixteen years, my lord."

A good age for Joffrey, he thought, remembering what Bronn had said. His first had been even younger. Tyrion remembered how shy she'd seemed as he drew her dress up over her head the first time. Long dark hair and blue eyes you could drown in, and he had. So long ago . . . What a wretched fool you are, dwarf. "Does she come from your home lands, this girl?"

"Her blood is the blood of summer, my lord, but my daughter was born here in King's Landing." His surprise must have shown on his face, for Chataya continued, "My people hold that there is no shame to be found in the pillow house. In the Summer Isles, those who are skilled at giving pleasure are greatly esteemed. Many highborn youths and maidens serve for a few years after their flowerings, to honor the gods."

"What do the gods have to do with it?"

"The gods made our bodies as well as our souls, is it not so? They give us voices, so we might worship them with song. They give us hands, so we might build them temples. And they give us desire, so we might mate and worship them in that way."

"Remind me to tell the High Septon," said Tyrion. "If I could pray with my cock, I'd be much more religious." He waved a hand. "I will gladly accept your suggestion."

"I shall summon my daughter. Come."

The girl met him at the foot of the stairs. Taller than Shae, though not so tall as her mother, she had to kneel before Tyrion could kiss her. "My name is Alayaya," she said, with only the slightest hint of her mother's accent. "Come, my lord." She took him by the hand and drew him up two flights of stairs, then down a long hall. Gasps and shrieks of pleasure were coming from behind one of the closed doors, giggles and whispers from another. Tyrion's cock pressed against the lacings of his breeches. This could be humiliating, he thought as he followed Alayaya up another stair to the turret room. There was only one door. She led him through and closed it. Within the room was a great canopied bed, a tall wardrobe decorated with erotic carvings, and a narrow window of leaded glass in a pattern of red and yellow diamonds.

"You are very beautiful, Alayaya," Tyrion told her when they were alone. "From head to heels, every part of you is lovely. Yet just now the part that interests me most is your tongue."

"My lord will find my tongue well schooled. When I was a girl I learned when to use it, and when not."

"That pleases me." Tyrion smiled. "So what shall we do now? Perchance you have some suggestion?"

"Yes," she said. "If my lord will open the wardrobe, he will find what he seeks."

Tyrion kissed her hand, and climbed inside the empty wardrobe. Alayaya closed it after him. He groped for the back panel, felt it slide under his fingers, and pushed it all the way aside. The hollow space behind the walls was pitch-black, but he fumbled until he felt metal. His hand closed around the rung of a ladder. He found a lower rung with his foot, and started down. Well below street level, the shaft opened onto a slanting earthen tunnel, where he found Varys waiting with candle in hand.

Varys did not look at all like himself. A scarred face and a stubble of dark beard showed under his spiked steel cap, and he wore mail over boiled leather, dirk and shortsword at his belt. "Was Chataya's to your satisfaction, my lord?"

"Almost too much so," admitted Tyrion. "You're certain this woman can be relied on?"

"I am certain of nothing in this fickle and treacherous world, my lord. Chataya has no cause to love the queen, though, and she knows that she has you to thank for ridding her of Allar Deem. Shall we go?" He started down the tunnel.

Even his walk is different, Tyrion observed. The scent of sour wine and garlic clung to Varys instead of lavender. "I like this new garb of yours," he offered as they went.

"The work I do does not permit me to travel the streets amid a column of knights. So when I leave the castle, I adopt more suitable guises, and thus live to serve you longer."

"Leather becomes you. You ought to come like this to our next council session."

"Your sister would not approve, my lord."

"My sister would soil her smallclothes." He smiled in the dark. "I saw no signs of any of her spies skulking after me."

"I am pleased to hear it, my lord. Some of your sister's hirelings are mine as well, unbeknownst to her. I should hate to think they had grown so sloppy as to be seen."

"Well, I'd hate to think I was climbing through wardrobes and suffering the pangs of frustrated lust all for naught."

"Scarcely for naught," Varys assured him. "They know you are here. Whether any will be bold enough to enter Chataya's in the guise of patrons I cannot say, but I find it best to err on the side of caution."

"How is it a brothel happens to have a secret entrance?"

"The tunnel was dug for another King's Hand, whose honor would not allow him to enter such a house openly. Chataya has closely guarded the knowledge of its existence."

"And yet you knew of it."

"Little birds fly through many a dark tunnel. Careful, the steps are steep."

They emerged through a trap at the back of a stable, having come perhaps a distance of three blocks under Rhaenys's Hill. A horse whickered in his stall when Tyrion let the door slam shut. Varys blew out the candle and set it on a beam and Tyrion gazed about. A mule and three horses occupied the stalls. He waddled over to the piebald gelding and took a look at his teeth. "Old," he said, "and I have my doubts about his wind."

"He is not a mount to carry you into battle, true," Varys replied, "but he will serve, and attract no notice. As will the others. And the stableboys see and hear only the animals." The eunuch took a cloak from a peg. It was roughspun, sun-faded, and threadbare, but very ample in its cut. "If you will permit me." When he swept it over Tyrion's shoulders it enveloped him head to heel, with a cowl that could be pulled forward to drown his face in shadows. "Men see what they expect to see," Varys said as he fussed and pulled. "Dwarfs are not so common a sight as children, so a child is what they will see. A boy in an old cloak on his father's horse, going about his father's business. Though it would be best if you came most often by night."

"I plan to . . . after today. At the moment, though, Shae awaits me." He had put her up in a walled manse at the far northeast corner of King's Landing, not far from the sea, but he had not dared visit her there for fear of being followed.

"Which horse will you have?"

Tyrion shrugged. "This one will do well enough."

"I shall saddle him for you." Varys took tack and saddle down from a peg.

Tyrion adjusted the heavy cloak and paced restlessly. "You missed a lively council. Stannis has crowned himself, it seems."

"I know."

"He accuses my brother and sister of incest. I wonder how he came by that suspicion."

"Perhaps he read a book and looked at the color of a bastard's hair, as Ned Stark did, and Jon Arryn before him. Or perhaps someone whispered it in his ear." The eunuch's laugh was not his usual giggle, but deeper and more throaty.

"Someone like you, perchance?"

"Am I suspected? It was not me."

"If it had been, would you admit it?"

"No. But why should I betray a secret I have kept so long? It is one thing to deceive a king, and quite another to hide from the cricket in the rushes and the little bird in the chimney. Besides, the bastards were there for all to see."

"Robert's bastards? What of them?"

"He fathered eight, to the best of my knowing," Varys said as he wrestled with the saddle. "Their mothers were copper and honey, chestnut and butter, yet the babes were all black as ravens . . . and as ill-omened, it would seem. So when Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen slid out between your sister's thighs, each as golden as the sun, the truth was not hard to glimpse."

Tyrion shook his head. If she had borne only one child for her husband, it would have been enough to disarm suspicion . . . but then she would not have been Cersei. "If you were not this whisperer, who was?"

"Some traitor, doubtless." Varys tightened the cinch.

"Littlefinger?"

"I named no name."

Tyrion let the eunuch help him mount. "Lord Varys," he said from the saddle, "sometimes I feel as though you are the best friend I have in King's Landing, and sometimes I feel you are my worst enemy."

"How odd. I think quite the same of you."