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#which sounds weird but it was very helpful for that dang loop
midnighthybrid1 · 1 year
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An AI Mix Up - Part 2/2
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The second and last part to this very goofy comic I did- perspective is hard man but this was rly fun to draw nonetheless- and I hope y’all enjoy it too!
Lemme know if y’all want me to see me do more stuff with this scenario/AU- I’d be happy to do some more, I do have a few ideas, I just need that spark of motivation to do so 🤔 (if you need more info regarding this goofy scenario, pls check out the first part of the comic, linked above!)
Anywho, hope ya liked this mini comic I did, and that ya have a wonderful day!
Likes and Reblogs are appreciated! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK!
(Full Page under the cut!)
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decks-writing-blog · 3 years
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Mute Buddies
This is a Dead Cells and Hollow Knight Crossover fic.
All the crossover art, especially the two pieces I drew, got me thinking about Ghost and Beheaded interacting and how they would be friends. And then I started thinking about ways they might've met and this fic is a result of those thoughts.
Also, because this is pre-game for Ghost they don't go by 'Ghost' since they're dubbed that by Hornet. They don't actually have a name at all in this fic because I wasn't sure what they would think of themself as.
~
By the time they spotted the island it was almost too late despite how close it was. Their sailboat, not ever meant to be out in the open ocean for so long, wasn’t faring well in the seemingly ceaseless storm. It had been battered and tossed around by the waves and wind until it had sprung a leak. And while dealing with that might’ve been easy under different circumstances the flood of rain pouring down complicated things quite a bit. Their one single bucket, despite being almost half their size was barely enough to bail out the water fast enough to keep the boat afloat. It was a losing battle though, they were only one little bug after all. So the island was a blessed sight indeed. All they had to do was get the boat to it, easier said than done of course but there was hope now at least and they had a goal.
As they drew closer it became ever more apparent that their vessel wasn’t the only one to suffer in these waters. Seems it was actually pretty common if the wrecked ships littering the bay were anything to go by. Only intermittently visible between flashes of lighting and waves pulling back to reveal bits and pieces of them, how many there were was impossible to guess. Not that it mattered beyond steering the sailboat through as safely as possible.
It was tough work; they couldn’t bail and hold the rudder at the same time and thus just had to hope that the boat would be able to reach shore before it sunk. Luckily there seemed to be a current pulling them towards the island. And the water filling the bottom of the boat now served to weigh it down, stopping the waves from pushing it around as much; another blessing even if initially it hadn’t been.
And thus after only a few minor collisions, the hull was grinding up onto the rocky shore with a scraping sound that couldn’t mean good things. Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Not that they actually cared a whole lot right now regardless because they were on land. No getting tossed around helplessly in the ocean for them today.
Putting one hand on the boat’s railing, they vaulted over the edge and onto firm land for the first time in fartoo long. The world seemed to sway and rock around them as if they were still aboard the boat and being pushed around by waves. They’d been stuck on it for a very, very long time indeed. Far longer than they’d thought would be the case. Word around the port town they’d acquired it at was that there was nothing out here, just lots and lots of ocean before the edge of the world. They’d wanted to see that supposed edge of the world but instead they’d found this island. Given how sick and tired they’d grown of sitting in the boat with nothing to see or do, that was perfectly fine. The edge of the world probably wasn’t all that exciting anyway, certainly not worth such a voyage to get to it.
Now even with the rain still pouring down on them they could’ve easily just laid down and fallen asleep right then and there. But it wouldn’t be wise and… They turned back towards their vessel. Its sail was old and tattered, held to the mast with a fraying rope that doubtless wouldn’t last much longer and its creaky hull had a minimum of at least one hole in it. Overall, in even worse shape than they’d acquired it in. But it should be repairable, right? And thus they grabbed hold of its edge and pulled it up further up onto the rocky shore. The thought of getting back onto it and heading out into the ocean once more was thoroughly unpleasant but there was no way they’d want to stay forever on this island so preserving their most likely way off was a must. As soon as it was well out of even the highest waves’ reach, they turned away. Leaving it there, they went in search of a place to rest.
The shore was wide and rocky. Off to one side was a large building, visible in between flashes of lightning. Closer by was a large cliff face. It wasn’t sheer though. There were many holes of various sized cut into its face and further up what look like whole caves. It didn’t take them long to find a little nook not too high up that would serve as a good enough hiding spot. They wouldn’t be completely hidden within it, anyone really looking would probably be able to spot them. Not ideal but they were too tired to search for something better. And it would get them out of the rain and that’s what mattered most right now. Though how much did that really matter when their cloak was so thoroughly soaked through already?
They pulled themself up into it and curled up, pressing back against the rear wall. … They ought to be more wary and should probably patrol the area for potential danger before letting themself rest. It would be the smart thing to do but… they were far too tired to bother, especially since they’d already laid down. It’d probably be fine though, few bugs would care to be out in such weather regardless.
***
Beheaded started for the beached sailboat as soon as they spotted it shortly after reaching the bottom of the Undying Shore’s cliff. While the island seemed to be in constant flux – something to do with the time loop probably – rare was the day something that different popped up.
Off to the side and just out of the ocean’s reach, getting to it was easy. After a quick glance around to ensure no monsters were around, they leaned in to examine it.
A small sailboat, nothing all that exciting really other than the fact that despite its visibly battered state it was still the most intact vessel they’d seen anywhere on the island. Left out in the rain without a tarp its hull overflowed with rainwater. Barely seaworthy for sure. Where had it come from though? Had someone dragged it out here thinking to escape the island in it? … No. Even as small as it was, there was no way anyone carried it out here, down the cliff, over the rocky terrain and past all the blood thirsty monsters even if they had had help. And given the way its bow was pointed away from the ocean – if even Beheaded knew what the front of a boat looked like then surely anyone experienced enough with traversing the sea to even consider risking such a voyage would’ve pointed the boat towards the water – it seemed to have come from the ocean. Hmmm… curious.
Well, most often where there was one interesting thing to examine there were more. So, turning away for now, Beheaded set to looking for other clues.
It didn’t take long to determined that there wasn’t much of anything within the sailboat’s immediate vicinity so they expanded their search along the shore a bit. Still nothing but the usual bit of boat rubble that occasionally made its way to shore before being pulled back into the sea. Quite lame but… still just the sailboat alone was an interesting find. So oh well, they had monsters to get back to killing. Perhaps they’d find something more about the boat and its occupant later.
They paused halfway in their turn back towards the way they’d being going before. There was something in one of the cliffside’s crevices. Tucked up deep inside only a small flap of dark fabric was visible poking out and flapping in the wind. Ever wary of all the different hidey holes those dang exploding bats liked to nest in, Beheaded crept closer for a better look.
It wasn’t a bat, exploding or otherwise – thank all that was still good in this world – but instead a… creature? No, a doll. Its head looked like it might’ve been made of porcelain and was clearly hollow. Or at least, whatever was inside was tucked in far enough that it couldn’t be seen through its large eye-like holes from this angle. And it had to be a trick of the light, or lack thereof, but underneath a tattered blue-gray cloak was the darkest black material Beheaded had ever seen. So yeah, no way was it a living creature but instead a large weird doll. It wasn’t even breathing.
They put a hand into the crevice to poke it. The instant their finger made contact with its body through its cloak, it moved. Its head snapped to look directly at them with its empty eyes.
Beheaded sprang back, scrambling to draw their dagger. They fumbled and almost dropped it but had a firm grasp on it by the time the creature had finished sliding out of the crevice silent grace. It had a weapon drawn now too. Pointed at Beheaded and vaguely swordlike it was visibly dull, nicked and scratched, showing signs of frequent and hard use. Given that, the fact that it was dull meant little; Beheaded was no stranger to being utterly destroyed by unsharpened blades. Same with small things; the fact that it was only half their size if one was counting its horns didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous and couldn’t ‘kill’ them in an instant.
Despite all that it didn’t attack immediately, implying that whatever it was, it wasn’t animated by the Malaise. It would’ve attacked mindlessly and without hesitation otherwise. That didn’t mean it was friendly though even if it seemed to be waiting for them to make the first move. Which they weren’t going to do against something they’d never seen before; they’d made that mistake far too many times already and their pride still bore the resulting scars. So for once they were going to be patient and let it make the dumb impulsive move for them to take advantage of. The perfect plan!
Except it wasn’t moving, not even to breathe. Which was just plain creepy. Despite that it was kind of cute even if its eyes did look like big gaping black holes in its face. Assuming that was its face, could be a helmet. …. Beheaded was starting to get reallybored of this waiting for it to attack first thing.
They relaxed their battle-ready pose, though they didn’t sheath their dagger and remained alert as they took a step closer. It lowered its weapon but otherwise didn’t move, only titling its head a little further to keep looking at them as they stepped right up in front of it. Still didn’t attack though so they sheathed their dagger and crouched down in front of it, remaining poised to leap back in an instant if need be. This was similar to how they’d befriended Mushroom Boi though so it’d probably be fine.
But unlike Mushroom Boi when they reached out a hand to poke it on the top of its indeed quite hard head, it didn’t make a sound. Instead it lifted its own little pitch black hand to poke back, first their hand and then forearm and then, stepping closer further up their arm. Its hand was cold and somehow seemingly without texture or so little texture Beheaded couldn’t feel it through the rain. A very odd being indeed but seemingly not dangerous for now even as it stepped close enough to allow it to lift its hand up and put it into the magic fog that took the place of where the Beheaded’s head would’ve been if their body still had one. No one had ever done that to them before so it was hard to say if the resulting cold and unpleasant tingly sensation it created was just what it felt like to be touched in that way or specifically because of the strange being.
Regardless they quickly pulled away, straightening. The being didn’t seem to mind though. It continued staring up at them with its large expressionless eyes. It didn’t have a mouth and still didn’t look like it was breathing but there was what felt like intelligence in its… no, their gaze. … Or perhaps Beheaded was just so lonely they wanted to read this creature as another being similar to themself in that they both lacked a voice and ability to communicate via facial expressions like every other sapient creature Beheaded knew. So this was either a neat find or a depressing wakeup call about how lonely they’d become. … They were going to believe the former until given reason to do otherwise.
They stepped to the side to point back towards the battered sailboat. Then, looking back down at their horned being, they pointed at them before lifting their arms in as shrug, making it a question. Had they come on the boat?
The being looked over and then back up at Beheaded before nodding. Just a single small nod but still undoubtedly a confirmation that not only were they from the boat but also that they intelligent. That also meant they were from off the island!
Beheaded hadn’t ever stopped to consider what might be beyond the seas surrounding this place but if they had they certainly wouldn’t have ever thought something or someone from out there would ever end up here. Oh, the things they would’ve asked if either of them were capable of speech.
Though this was probably bad for the being, huh? With the whole Malaise being such a prevalent thing. If they weren’t already infected then they would probably be soon. … Unless they were immune like Collector and some of the others seemed to be and Beheaded for sure was. That wasn’t super likely though, was it? So… what an unlucky fellow to end up on this island of all places. But, alas, there was nothing that could be done about it now.
The being turned their gaze away to glance around. They looked up at the cliff for a bit and then over at the Mausoleum before looking back up at the Beheaded again. Only for a few seconds though before with a slight shrug in started in the direction of the Mausoleum.
Well, with no way to talk to each other and nothing else to do, they might as well move on. And since Beheaded had already been heading in that direction anyway, they followed. They could hang out with their new mute buddy for a while. Even if said buddy was unfortunately not likely to last long on the island.
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FroYO What The F&*% Is Up, Kyle? || Ariana & Kyle
TIMING: Before Kyle did Bex a big yikes PARTIES: @darkh0wl & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Just two wolves who sniffed each other out in a yogurt shop, as you do. 
Okay, so maybe it was winter and maybe it was too cold for frozen yogurt. But a craving is a craving, so Kyle had to satisfy it. He headed down to Flagg’s Froyo, avoided the sticky tiles inside the shop, and found a table with his cup that was honestly more topping than yogurt. He leaned back in his chair, eating specifically the popping boba one at a time. Kyle closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the mouthfeel of boba, but he could smell...something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but there was a familiar sort of smell. His brow furrowed as he breathed in deeper and looked around for the source of the smell. 
The only reason her frozen yogurt hadn’t melted had to be due to the temperature alone. Even with talking through what she was feeling, Ariana still found visiting Chloe had left her feeling heavier. Like so many other effort she’d made to help others, it just seemed to crumble in her hands. At this point, she wasn’t sure which felt worse-- trying to help or not trying at all. She had stopped by here after class as a means of killing time. Athena was out at the sorority house planning some sort of event and the thought of just hanging around the apartment alone felt like too much. At least here, the constant thrum of background noise kept her somewhat stable. She stirred around her frozen yogurt with her spoon yet again and almost didn’t even pick up on the smell until it was practically hitting her in the face. Her head whipped up as she saw a guy not much older than her standing in front of her who was undoubtedly also a wolf. It was likely what drew him over to her to begin with. “You can sit,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, “I’m Ari. Take it your nose brought you this way?” 
Kyle didn’t honestly know what his game plan was once he was already headed toward the other table. He didn’t know why he was following this scent or what it even was. Now that he was standing in front of this girl, he felt like a major creep, but she seemed excited. Kyle did as she said and sat across from her in a bit of a daze. She smelled so familiar. Like home in a way that Kyle hadn’t really experienced before. Sure, he’d smelled the same thing out and about before--in passing, on full moons, maybe on some patrons at the bar--but never in a context that meant anything. “Uh, I’m Kyle. What do you mean my nose brought me this way? How did you know?”
As Kyle took a seat with her, Ariana quirked a brow up. Almost immediately it was easy to tell he hadn’t met another wolf before. How new was he to this? Hopefully not quite as out of the loop as Luis. Even there, she wasn’t even sure how good her help did. She swirled some of the strawberry froyo around in the cup and shook her head. “Like, literally, your nose brought you here. It’s a wolf thing,” she said nonchalantly. Sure, this was serious, but she couldn’t beat around the bush. Not right now. It was too exhausting, but she did quickly add, “You do know what you are, right?” 
The bold, blunt statement of, “It’s a wolf thing,” caught Kyle off guard. He couldn’t help the look of surprise that washed over his face. He hadn’t met another, he’d just sort of figured everything out on his own, trial and error style. Kyle set his cup of froyo toppings down and ran a hand through his hair. Was she--was Ari a wolf, too? Or how had she known? He sighed in mild annoyance. “Of course I know what I am. But how did you know? Are you--y’know, a wolf, too?” He paused for just a beat before adding, “Or are you, like, a mindreader?” 
It was hard to keep a straight face as Kyle was clearly taken aback by her words. Ariana had never been so great at the whole beating around the bush thing. It didn’t help that it was also the exhausting route and she was already pretty tired. Then he was asking if she was a wolf or a mind reader and she shook her head. Oh, Kyle. She’d only just met him, but this felt like a very Kyle thing to do based on all the internet memes. “Both,” she said to him with a nearly convincing serious face before a smirk broke out. “Okay, just a wolf. But you made that way too easy.” If he couldn’t immediately discern she was also a wolf, she had the feeling he was still new to all of this. Or at least he hadn’t met other wolves before. “So, how long have you been-- well, you know?” She made a little claw motion with her hands as she asked the last part. 
For a second, Kyle’s mouth hung open in surprise. A mind reader?! That was incredible, and already his mind was churning with a hundred questions. But then Ari was smirking and his excitement waned. “Wait, so you’re not a mind reader? Bummer. That sounds dope as hell.” The pieces were clicking together now. Why Kyle could smell her so well, why she smelled so familiar, and even why he felt so oddly at ease with her. He tried to shove that last feeling down. He was a lone wolf and no one was going to change that. “Oh, me? I’ve been a wolf since high school. But I’m kind of the only one I know. Or, I guess I was until I met you.” He shrugged, brow furrowing as he looked back down at his froyo. A creeping question lurked at the back of his mind. Would things be different if he’d met someone sooner? Would he have become a part of some kind of pack? The thought unsettled him in a way he couldn’t pin down, so he cleared his throat and began talking again. “What about you? How long have you been…?” he mimicked the claw motion with a hand, a smirk crossing his face now, too.
Ariana almost felt bad that Kyle had seemingly fallen for her joke about mind reading. As cool as that skill may have been, there was a lot she preferred not to know. That and the world was loud enough already. Especially closer to a full moon. She didn’t need the additional ruckus of other people’s thoughts filling her head. “No, definitely not a mind reader,” she said as she shook her head, “Wolves are cooler anyway.” As she took a bite of her lemon raspberry froyo she could see him beginning to understand. So, he wasn’t necessarily too new to this wolf thing, but new enough that he didn’t know others like them. “High school… how old are you now? Had to be a tough change to make during high school, but you seem to have a pretty good grip of the whole wolf thing.” At least as much as she could tell from their current setting. Hell, at least he knew what he was already and wasn’t trying to actively push her away. She found herself laughing a bit as he mirrored her own motions. “I was born a wolf,” she explained, “My parents were wolves, too. I didn’t really- It wasn’t until recently I actually got to meet others like us. I was pretty young when my parents died.” Murdered would have been a more accurate term, but Kyle seemed comfortable with her, it was probably best to not totally freak him out. “Have you been staying safe? Do you have a good place to spend the full moons?” 
“Dang, I was starting to hope this whole being a wolf thing had the added bonus of mind reading. Like, maybe I just had to unlock more levels,” Kyle said, grinning. “You’re right, though. Wolves are cooler.” He took another bite of his topping cup and nodded along with what Ari was saying. She was right. It had been a hard transition in high school. He was just figuring himself out and then he had added being a wolf on top of it. It had shaped him, for better or worse, into sort of who he was now. “I’m 22,” he said and shrugged. “I feel like I have a pretty good hold on things. Give or take.” Take. It was definitely take, but he’d just met this wolf. He didn’t want her to know too too much. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. So Ari had had a long time to practice this whole wolf thing. Maybe that’s why she was so calm about talking about this over froyo. He had questions to ask about being born a wolf--he hadn’t even really thought about werewolves being born, though it made sense--but then Ari casually dropped it on him that her parents were dead. Any smile from his face slowly fell and he let his spoon sink back into his cup. “Oh-- I-- I’m sorry about your parents. I can’t imagine that’s easy, on top of being a wolf.” But she pressed on with questions, so Kyle did his best to oblige her. “What do you mean good place?” he asked. “I mean, I’m staying as safe as I can in a weird town like this. I’m kind of just...driving to the edge of town during a full moon, and I just roam the forest, you know? Usually, I make it all the way out of town, too.” Oops, had that been too much? She didn’t need to know how fragile his grip on control was. Not now. 
So Kyle wasn’t too much older than she was, though she had kind of guessed as much. Ariana was eager to have another wolf that was her age to hang out with. Part of her immediately thought that Kyle and Luis would probably get along well. “Nice, I just turned 19 a few weeks ago,” she told him with a smile, “That’s pretty amazing. It’s always a give and take sort of thing, but easier to stay safe if you have a better grasp of the whole thing. I think really riding into it helps?” It was hard to control something you denied, which at least Luis was past that phase. She could tell Kyle seemed surprised she had been born a wolf. So, outside of being a wolf and her being the first one he’d met, he really wasn’t all that well versed in this stuff. That was okay, she’d fill him on everything he needed to know. Plus, she’d introduce him to the others which would give him a whole little community. She took another big bite of her yogurt before she realized he was apologizing. No matter how much she’d heard it, she was always thrown off. “Oh, it’s fin- I’m okay,” she assured easily, “My older sister had always taken good care of me. Don’t get me wrong, losing family sucks, but like, I’m okay. And I think the wolf stuff is a little easier if you don’t know anything else, you know?” Or, at least it felt like she was starting to be. She’d had plenty of time to grieve her parents, it was the more recent losses that seemed to haunt her recently, but she was healing. She was having more good days than bad and that was something, right? She shook those thoughts away and answered his question. “A good place far away from town where you can just be a wolf without worrying about others,” she explained, “It sounds like you have a pretty good setup in place though. Still, I wouldn't mind having someone to hang out with on the full moon. I go pretty deep out into the forest. I have a few different spots I rotate between to keep hunters from catching onto where I am. So if you wanted to join…” She didn’t want to force him, but she’d feel a lot more secure that the other wolves were staying out of trouble if they were together. 
So, Ari was younger than Kyle and clearly in better control over the wolf thing. That made him feel unexpectedly bad, never mind that she had had way more time to gain control. He nodded along with what she said about embracing the wolf thing. “Yeah, I agree. The whole being ashamed of what I am thing, it’s--it’s not for me. I like being a wolf. It’s way cool.” He took another bite of his toppings, popping boba in his mouth one by one as he listened to Ari speak about her family. That was heavy. He wouldn’t be coping as well as she seemed to be, that was for sure. “Still,” he said, once his mouth was empty, “it’s not easy and I’m sorry you have to go through that. I’m glad you’re doing okay with it.” He balked at the offer to join her on a full moon. That wasn’t something he’d ever considered. What if he hurt her? It wouldn’t be intentional, sure, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a possibility. He barely knew her. How could he even be sure she wasn’t somehow working with hunters? That was a ridiculous thought, though. One that Kyle brushed aside as he considered her offer. “Uh,” he started. Did he want to say yes? Did he want to commit to something he was probably going to regret later? “I don’t know,” he said, his brows pulling together. “I think I’ve been doing pretty good by myself. I haven’t seen any hunters. I’ll think about it, though.” He wouldn’t think about it. Kyle had already made his decision, whether he would admit that to himself or not. He didn’t want to be connected to someone who could possibly count on him. Not now. The circumstances didn’t feel right. He was a lone wolf, and he didn’t want to change that now. Ari seemed nice enough, but he didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of someone else.
Ariana found okay to be a fairly relative thing. She’d had nearly sixteen years to cope with what had happened to her family. Even Celeste, Sammy, Winn… time had passed. There were still days where a memory or thought could throw her for a loop, but she could manage easier now. She could keep moving forward even though her life would no longer look like she had always pictured it. She could adjust, mostly because she had to. She’d always had to adjust in some way or another and grief, pain-- it wasn’t all that different except in the fact it was harder. “Thanks,” she said as she moved some mochi around with her spoon. She wasn’t sure what else to say so she eagerly awaited his answer about joining her on the full moon, only to be disappointed. For some reason, he’d rather spend the moon alone even though instinct seemed to pull them together. “Oh,” she started slowly, “I mean, I have too, just thought it’d be nice to spend it hunting together. See who can catch the biggest buck and all that.” She wasn’t sure why the rejection stung so she busied herself with her yogurt again momentarily. When she really thought about it, all she really wanted was to help and have it go well. She wanted to fulfill that purpose of bridging the supernatural worlds together in a way Celeste had started, but Celeste had always been so much better with people. What would she do? A joke to lighten the mood was all Ariana could come up with. “What,” she said with a smirk that felt forced, “You think I’ll slow you down or something?” 
Kyle’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t miss that Ari had genuinely wanted him to join her on the full moon. After what he’d done to his mother… He shuddered and tried to play it off by setting his spoon down and mumbling something about brain freeze. That bought him enough time to consider her request even more fully. He hadn’t known that other wolves hunted on the full moon. It made sense, but he hadn’t really considered it for himself. Would they eat the deer they took down? Kyle wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Do you eat the deer?” he asked, prodding at his frozen yogurt. That didn’t sound like the most appetizing way to go about things, but he didn’t want to judge Ari too harshly. “I’ve never hunted anything. I guess I’m almost worried you’d speed me up,” he said with a chuckle. “I usually just...run, I guess.” He didn’t really think about it, he just went to the forest and let himself go. He let himself forget all of his human worries and just be free. Most of the time, he was in the woods, anyway. Sometimes, he didn’t quite make it out of town. But even then, he just spent the night chasing rabbits or the occasional stray cat. He never caught them, but he had fun trying. 
Ariana watched Kyle carefully as she tried to make sense of his body language. It seemed as if he was considering her offer at the very least though she couldn’t be too sure. As she set her own nearly finished yogurt down, confusion crossed her features. Her head tilted curiously and her eyes widened a bit that he asked if she ate the deer. The answer seemed obvious though when he mentioned he just ran, concern started brewing in her stomach. “Uhm, yeah,” she looked around carefully before lowering her voice to a whisper, “The full moon makes us kind of bloodthirsty and all. Better deer than the alternative. So, I fuck off deep into the forest and just let instinct take over.” The thought of just running didn’t quite add up to werewolf nature though and she had the feeling he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her. While she didn’t necessarily want to call him out and push him away when he likely needed her experience, she had to bring it up somehow. “You just… run,” she asked slowly. Her wide eyes didn’t do much to hide her disbelief as she started to fiddle with her spoon again. “That’s… I really think you should join me. I’d really enjoy the company and we’re kind of pack creatures by nature and all.” Her mind briefly thought of Luis who was also new to this and went through struggles she couldn’t quite understand. She sat up a little straighter and quickly added, “Actually, I have a friend I want you to meet. He’s-- well, he’s really new to all of this and trying to figure things out. Since I’ve always been like this, I kind of worry I can’t really relate to him as well as he needs, you know?” 
Kyle had to take a moment to process that Ari ate the deer. He hadn’t eaten--...had he? The creeping realization that, in fact, he probably had eaten the stray cats and wild rabbits he chased made his stomach flip. He set the cup of yogurt down and nudged it away from himself. How many missing cat posters had been put up because of him? Kyle swallowed thickly and bit his lower lip. “I--I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t eat--or I didn’t think I ate things like that? Maybe I do? I don’t know. I’m not new new to this, but I don’t know if I’m the right candidate to--what did you say? Fuck off into the woods?” He didn’t know who this friend Ari spoke of was, but Kyle knew that he couldn’t relate to them either. He hadn’t exactly embraced pack life as much as he’d just embraced the idea of being a wolf. Ari had a point that they were social creatures by nature, but the thought of being so tied down in such a specific manner had Kyle feeling uneasy at best. “I guess I could meet your friend I--I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint, but I don’t think I’m any help, you know? You’re kind of the only wolf I’ve really met. I don’t have experience on that front. I don’t know that I could be relatable in the way he needs, I guess.”
There was no hiding the wide eyed look that crossed her face when Kyle said he didn’t think he ate things. Ariana knew that couldn’t be true, not when the full moon had such a hold over them that made them basically insatiable. Even with her memory of her full moons crystal clear, there was no denying the hold it had on her. How the hunt was the only thing that drove her during those midnight hours until she reached contentment and fell asleep cozily on the forest floor. “Right,” she said slowly, “You probably do eat things… it’s like-- the full moon makes us pretty much bloodthirsty and hungry, but not like, to each other. Pack instinct kind of kicks in there.” Her voice was low but her hushed tone was serious. The yogurt cup was long since forgotten on the table and she watched him carefully with concern in her eyes. “I think you two would get along. It’s not necessarily about tips, but it’s a pretty big life change to go through. Everyone could use someone who knows what they’re going through.” Really, Luis could use all the support he could get though now she found herself worried for Kyle, too. She noticed the sun was getting lower in the sky and glanced down at her watch before she fumbled in her bag to grab a pen and paper. She quickly scrawled down her number and told him, “This isn’t the best place to talk, but text me soon, okay? We can go for a hike if nothing else.” She only half meant that. She had every intention of working on wolf things with him, but she didn’t want to scare him off just yet. “I’m supposed to meet my girlfriend soon, but take care, okay? This town can be dangerous for people like us.”
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stray-tori · 4 years
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TPN S02E04 - Initial Thoughts (anime-only)
viewing + post-ep talk with my friends: Google Drive (sorry, youtube denied me again)
(i) Translations are in the English (USA) CC (including the english bits as well for those who struggle with the audio/language, etc.)
pls validate my efforts and watch it.
there’s some anime-only talk about the adaptation towards the end, I wasn’t trying to be arrogant, just mention it to my friends based on some things I’d heard and without spoiling them about what is different that I do know of specifically. But if you want to avoid that, feel free to!
I definitely said it a bit too in favor of the anime, and obviously my friends’ just got my simplified thoughts on it? Like when they said it makes sense for the anime to move on quicker, but that’s not really what’s different. 
So yeah, please forgive the dubious things in that segment, I really just didn’t think about my words a lot.
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. Random thoughts
The fish bug scenes were delightful TvT Also the animation during them trying to grab them???
The OST during Isabella’s scenes???? take me
I think we also heard the OST sneak peak from a while ago during the cave confrontation with the army force human
Don is a useless nightwatch, goddamn it Don
Don is an epic chairman.
Loved the shot of Ray shooting at the big demon (why didn’t Emma get a cool shot? :THONK:), very dynamic, very epic.
Also them running together to push the man off the cliff was... something haha.
I’m losing my mind that we’re actually just ending on the way ep1 started. Same animation loops too, eh. to be expected, and obviously adjusted for different clothing and items but. still as someone who wants to praise for not re-using animation, rip.
EMMA HAVING SLEEPING CHILDREN AROUND HER AWWWW
Eyy Ray took a bath with the others too, yay
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. The bunker
So, the twist was that there was really.... no twist at all. Minerva was a good guy, he tried his best, he got discovered and chased.
And yet, I don’t think the bunker was previously discovered by the farms, which would at least warrant a “scare” like that, effectively making it a trap. They may have been aware of a shelter’s existence, but I don’t think they’ve been there before.
You could probably assume that the Troup that attacked our characters may have also removed the previous escapees from the scene --- but if that was the case, why leave all of the letters and other things in place. Not getting there immediately is understandable, they seem to arrived by foot (what? do you plan to keep an eye on the children the whole like 5 day march back or however long it took?? dang). So that’s not it.
So: what caused the HELPs? the person writing in the book seems to have been abandoned or more likely, are the only survivor of their group (maybe the only person in the group at all). Now it’d be an option for them to have found this safe haven and decided to just spend their days there, slowly losing their minds and doing the things on the wall. But then the message in the book, on the other hand, seems traumatized and sad, but not as lost as the carvings on the wall.
So either, they calmed down after going crazy and then once they did, they decided to leave.
Or it’s from two different people (or multiple), the one after the “HELP” one probably leaving the uplifting message in the book nearby of the scribbles.
I’m not sure which I’d find more likely, but all in all, I’m not sure why they didn’t just have the demons already know of the place and just have the letter (they probably wouldn’t have searched everything in the place) not be as obviously placed and then boom, they could still have made all discoveries they needed and when they found the help wall, it would have been from children trapped in the room while the men searched the bunker, wanting help.
* Clearly that’s not what they were going for, since there’s also day-counting things, but even that you could have explained by saying, they missed a child and the other escapees convinced them that they died, somehow and so they were left behind, traumatized by their friends being taken back and giving up for a while. It still runs into the same “but how can it be the same person?” doubt that my friend brought up, but I think that it’d justify the shock value of the wall more. Still not really making the whole “HELP” thing add up though, since that just sounds like there’s an immediate threat, when there isn’t. The only other thing I can think of is that the entire wall wasn’t one instance, so the counting could be solitude, the HELPs acute danger and the names probably also solitude. The drawing on the right also makes me think it was probably a child as well, fairly young. Poor kid.
Unless there’s something more to it I feel like it makes a little more sense, but still not a lot (WHY’D YOU LEAVE YOUR SNACKS, BRO) but seeing as we’ve left, I don’t think we’ll get to know.
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I’m assuming the way the farm knew now is either a) they were aware but didn’t see any reason to go there unless there were children there, b) they saw the coordinate carvings (thanks Ray) or c) the pursuers contacted the farms (which would make sense, and again, thanks Ray).
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.. the farm has a military force???
I also find it kind of funny that the farms have a military force??? Because so far, we’ve never seen them use guns to do anything. Which makes me think they might not be farm-intern but from an outside force, maybe the humans who are more “on-level” with them?
Like, what do they do all day. They’re probably not part of the buff demon guards and.... idk man haha-
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. Isabella
Ahh I was happy to see her! I was even happier to be like “hah, prison. Knew it.” and then later reacting to the offer, even though that wasn’t exactly what I called, but damn. the pride. my fucking expression too lol, i couldn’t hide it at all pff.
Her jump in motivation is a little weird, but I do see it as, someone who has basically accepted their fate, and when that gets challenged, the will to live takes over. 
I’m also not quite sure how she’s supposed to capture them if she can’t leave?
And then of course there’s whatever they promised her aside from “freedom” (which, if that just means being let outside, good luck ma’am there’s demons everywhere) - or is the transportation to the human world included? :D
Based on her clothing in the OP, I might have guessed it’d be “become a grandma” but that doesn’t really go well with the promise of freedom so.... I don’t know where that entire thing is going pff-
We don’t know a lot about what drives Isabella but one of the few things we do know is a) will to live and b) Leslie (????), hence the lullaby in “stressful” situations.
She already got the will to live with the baseline deal, so the only thing I can think of that would make her react more than freedom would be that Leslie’s alive and she can see him if she helps.
I’m not sure if she’s interested in anything else, like how the world works or what she can do for anyone, like.... hm. Of course it could totally be something that we just don’t know yet but yeah I guess that’s my guess.
They probably won’t give up Ray and seeing as she’s more concerned about his brain than anything, I don’t think even if they did allow her to take him with her, it probably wouldn’t mean a lot to her. Plus, why lose another high quality cattle.
I guess it could be, she did seem she wanted to be a proper mother figure, but idk something tells me it’s probably not something like that.
It would also be more “???” than “OHHH” of an reveal. Then again, Leslie is also an obvious choice so.
Maybe it’s something entirely new, we’ll see :D
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. The possibily wrong date
So when Anna writes a journal thingy, we see this
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And, well, their escape happened in January 2046, so... for that to be true, somewhere along the line, an entire year would have had to pass.
I’m assume this is a production error because
they didn’t get to harvest once
they wouldn’t wait a year to talk about the plan to go back
Ray wouldn’t need an ear patch for so long, he only has a cut
the montage only showed 22nd and 23rd, if an entire year had passed, we’d have been shown more varied dates, etc.
then it makes even less sense for why the army shows up one year later out of nowhere :D
...
Smh, CloverWorks, what can you even do right.
.
Yee, thanks for reading!
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painted-crow · 4 years
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Submission Time #10
so grateful for any input--it's a bit of a doozy but it's been weighing on me for a while :')
after struggling with my sorting literally forever i'm just realizing it might be burned. like... a couple layers of charring on the primary imo, and the secondary isn't doing so hot either. i've been cutting this down and it still reads like a sad diary entry but hopefully it's a bit more comprehensible now.
Spoiler alert: I've read ahead and... yes, friend, you're Burned. Hugs.
This post includes semi random bonus colors thrown in because there's like... lots of words I could say, and I don't have that many words available in my brain's stockroom right now, so we're extra colorful instead. Enjoy?
primary-wise, i would LIKE to trust my gut, but who hasn't had irrational, overwhelming feelings before? i can't make sense of it, fast enough or ever--and people who think they can make me jealous/nervous--so i go for rules, fact-checking, advice to find somewhere safe again. until of course that advice turns sketchy or uncomfy. then, even if i don't know WHY, i have to ditch it (which is also uncomfy bc it's flimsy and inexplicable but sticking w something that feels questionable hurts worse, even if it's more logical).
You might have already figured this out since writing this, but you're like... a textbook Stripped Gryff. Ouch.
It also sounds like you've tried to pick up a model or two to fill the gap, but it keeps falling apart on you...
worst is that tied up in the advice i abandon are my feelings about the people who gave it! i take into account only the people i'm Invested in, and an idea can't stay without its source. it SUCKS, bc i do love them and want to trust them, but i can't in good faith stick with assholes. (i work within do no harm principles so it doesn't matter if they're nice to me--i'm rlly not better than anyone else, and in any case, a baseline of respect is important.) i've had to drop a lot of people and a lot of ideas lately, with few exceptions who i'm still mad but they are Necessary for Life. i've just resolved to not talk about it, bc apparently you'll have to force me to concede once an argument has started.
the world can be weird and changeable, but i need to be certain, and my trust in my decisions and ideas has been gone for awhile. i don't feel concrete trusting my gut on what's best, but then the systems i built as failsafes are faulty, too, because they're from people who i trusted but, it turns out, never really knew--which again loops back to another interlocking layer of messy decision-making. the whole thing just calls my judgment into question, and the withered, cynical part is like... who cares? pick a thing and stick to it, even though there's going to be something wrong with it, bc there's something wrong with everything and you're losing the last of your marbles asking so many things. (this might also be why i've been trickling in anon questions to everyone for like, months now: i've had every single one of the sortings, but also... not really? it doesn't work right. i read and agree, then read again and disagree. i go "ok makes sense" then go "...does it really? how do you know?" even though who else would know!!! who else would be able to confirm but me!!! d u d e)
Ohhhh boy. I have an answer to suggest but it's not a happy one. Here's my guess:
Your Gryff primary is badly Stripped.
You patched it up with a Ravenclaw primary model... which then Fell.
You rebuilt the Ravenclaw model in a very Slytherin primary way... and then the Slytherin Petrified.
Now you've got remnants of all of them hanging around, they all feel Burned because they are, and you're having a hard time telling which is which.
Hard to blame you.
I do think you're a Gryff underneath because that's what you keep coming back to. The people you chose turning out to be not what you signed up for, you see that as a poor reflection on your judgment. You describe your Ravenclaw systems as a fail-safe, which suggests it's something you picked up.
+ idk if it'll help at all with the primary sorting but i'm a rapid bird secondary (planning! collecting!) at the base, with some kind of improvisational model that comes out specifically for interaction. i like to play a part around people. it's fun, helpful, and different for everyone: the part isn't a lie so much as it is my personality flipped to what i've figured out fits best for the situation--like wearing makeup for work or for going out. but the mask comes down for stuff that's rlly important to me (then i'm gonna fight u). or u kno. i realize that no one knows me personally bc vulnerability is scary. after that point the persona isn't cool anymore--in fact, it gets more tiring by the day, but i can give it up. is it possible to combine the desire for authenticity with a hesitance to let go of the polish for fear of being Compromised? it ties into the judgment thing in that i'm p insecure about figuring out how i can relax around but i wish i was able to just. pick a thing to be good at already dang!!!
Sounds like you have a lot of Bird and Snake to your secondary. I'm not well equipped from this to guess if you have some kind of burned Lion secondary hidden underneath all this, but it's interesting that Bird and Snake are also the models you built up around your primary. I'm not sure if that says something or not. Maybe they felt familiar somehow.
Hugs, hope you feel less shitty soon!
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- Paint
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bookenders · 5 years
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11/11/11 Tag Game: Round 12
This is a very popular tag game, it seems! Tagged by @ren-c-leyn! Thanks, friend! I am evidence that you can do this game thousands of times, as I have answered 12% of 1000 questions by now. 😋
🎶🎵Hit me baby one more time🎵🎶
My Questions (running out of creativity, must consume more media):
What baseball positions would your OCs be in if they all had to be on a baseball team? What’s the team name? What’s their mascot? What do the uniforms look like? (If you hate baseball or prefer a different sport, substitute said sport for baseball.)
How good are your OCs at bowling? How good are you at bowling?
Rewrite this in your style: “I picked up the book and read the back. He took it from me before I could protest. He never lets me have the cool stuff.”
What do you love about the last book you read?
What are three things you love about your writing?
What’s a word you love the sound of? What’s a word you really don’t like the sound of?
How do you like to begin your stories?
What other forms of writing have you tried other than the one you’re working with now? (i.e. playwriting, screenwriting, poetry, interactive, novels, short fiction. etc.) How do you feel about them?
What’s your favorite play/musical? Why? What’s your favorite part?
What kind of stories do you like to read? How different are they from what you write?
What’s your favorite bit of worldbuilding from a story someone else wrote?
Frodo Taggins:@cawolters, @mvcreates, @a-story-im-writing, @cvrmillas, @ink-flavored, @aslanwrites, @the-real-rg, @bookish-actor, @toboldlywrite, @pens-swords-stuff, @tangoswips and legit anyone else who wants to do this. Especially you.
Answers under the cut!
1. Why did you chose to write the genre you do? If you don’t write in any particular one, why do you bounce?
I grew up writing literary fiction, the undergrad program I studied in prioritized literary fiction, and I like it best. Sometimes I get fancy and branch into fantasy. 
I do not write sci-fi because it’s too hard for me. I’ve tried, it didn’t turn out well. I also don’t usually do horror because it’s a lot of effort for me to make my brain go that kind of dark. And I tend to stay away from YA because the voice is tough for me to write in.
2. Favorite name?
Lydia! 
3. Type of music/ambiance you listen to while writing?
I make playlists and loop them or put the same song on repeat for however long the writing session lasts. Usually a cello/violin piece. Sometimes I’ll hit flow state without anything playing and come out weirded out by the silence. That’s always fun.
4. Best feeling you’ve ever had while writing? (example: filling in that one plot hole and not making another one. Or dropped a tiny detail in and it connected all of the subplots Perfectly.)
I get one in just about every story. Each one has a line/section that I wrote, stopped, and looked at it while going “yisssss” in my head. Usually it’s my last lines. That’s when I love to bring everything together. For my war story, it was finding the perfect song to include that referenced both a character and his journey (”Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” for those wondering). 
A few others: Finishing my last thesis story after having to rewrite it one day before my last draft was due to my committee because computer errors ugh (but it was way better the second time and I got some good bird imagery in there so it’s all good). Putting in a callback to a character’s old desk by using her new one. Getting the dream scene tense shift perfectly paced in the story I’m working on now. Hitting the perfect emotional beat and satisfying the whole dang emotional arc thread in my artist short story.
5. Is it easier for you to write comedic situations or serious ones?
Serious, by far. My funny doesn’t translate well to the written word. I mean, I can do both, but my serious emotionally heavy scenes are far easier for me to bust out than the funnies. 
6. Do you tend to use symbolism a lot?
Unconsciously, all the time! I think it’s almost impossible for a writer to not use symbolism. On purpose, slightly less than all the time. I prefer rhyming actions than what a lot of people think of as symbolism. I don’t do the “x person is represented by the color red and it gets more washed out as the story goes on symbolizing their internal crisis of conscience.” I’m more of a “here’s a thing they both liked and an innocuous detail about it but now that one of them is gone the detail means something different and the weight of the symbol changes.”
I like extended metaphors a whole lot.
7. Think fast: Which book inspired your writing style the most?
Uhhhhh The Things They Carried? Or Wintergirls. Or Hooked on Phonics (heh). I’ve found that Anne Valente’s style is kinda similar to mine, too. Possibly Where the Red Fern Grows. I dunno. There are so many!
8. Last book you read?
I just finished Autoboyography, it was lovely. I recommend it for anyone who wants a coming out story that helps you learn about Mormonism and the LDS church. Also the main character is a wonderful disaster.
9. Book you’re currently working on?
So many. But I just started reading Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan. It’s an odd style that I’m super not used to reading in longer fiction (it reads like a short story, which is neat) but I’m trying to get into it.
[Edit: yeah, I gave up and swapped it for Once and Future, which is good.]
10. Do you ever regret deciding you wanted to be a writer?
I have. I do sometimes. But I never really “decided,” per say. It’s just been what I’ve always done and I keep doin’ it. 🚂 That’s why I’m gonna study and have a career outside of writing. It’s the thing I love to do and I’m good at it, but I know myself, and it’d be tough for me to become a career writer. Unless some miracles happen.
11. Something besides writing or reading that you like to do for fun?
I started getting into graphic design, which is a lot harder than I thought. I like going to art installations and ren faires. I love theatre, watching and participating (I’ve written, directed, and acted before!). I like going to local art events, festivals, faires, and supporting local businesses. 
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cursewoodrecap · 4 years
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Session 14: Nice Sociable Folk
Everyone is very nice to us, except one grumpy guy.
This one fought me, folks. And Quarantine Depression didn’t really help. So it’s a bit less pared-down than it could be. But speaking of people who should probably be quarantined, have some virulent fungus.
We return to the scene: Valeria has just unceremoniously yanked a mandrake root out of the ground, and it’s doing what mandrakes do, screaming at the top of its lungs (...do plants have lungs???) and raising hell. Which is not GREAT if you’re in the middle of the Spooky Woods Where Monsters Live.
We’re reckless idiots, but that’s on brand.
Shoshana rolls a Nature check to know it’ll stop screaming on its own eventually, and that getting it into our Haversack will stop or dull the noise. Otherwise, the recommended mandrake-harvesting technique is that extreme heat or cold will stun its screaming. Usually people harvest them with daggers heated over a flame.
Problem: Shoshana is only one who knows this, Clem and Val are stunned, and it’s LOUD, so it’s hard to talk. So it’s up to the sorcerer to handle it. She doesn’t want to burn the dang thing to a crisp and make it useless as a spell component, so blasting it with magic is right out. She snatches a torch out of Clem’s backpack and lights it, heating up her small dagger.
Clem fails to shake off the stun, but Valeria recovers. Gral throws an inspiration at Clem, who’s still stuck, and frantically glances around the area to see if the BIG LOUD NOISE has alerted any enemies. In fact, it very much has. A variety of heavy shapes are uprooting themselves out of the dirt, turning blank mossy faces towards us. 
Shosha tries to hurry up on silencing the mandrake, but her haste causes her to fumble it. At least she doesn’t damage the plant.
Gral, still watching, sees the grassy, lumpy creatures pick up rocks and start hurling them. Shoshana gets bonked. A rock bounces off Valeria’s armor. Gral’s looking at those ones, when another one hefts out of the ground behind him and conks him with a big ol’ stone.
“Ah,” Valeria observes. “Yeetroots.”
Clem, even with inspiration, still fails to unstun herself, clutching her hands to her sensitive elven ears.
Gral swings his sickle into a yeetroot’s rooty, tuberous body, a thick sap dripping from the gaping wound. Meanwhile, Shoshana takes a second stab with her hot dagger and manages to silence the awful screaming.
The one Gral bloodied picks him up entirely and yeets him at Clem. Gral bounces off the drow’s armor comically. Clem remains completely undamaged while Gral pouts at being unwillingly Fastball Specialed. Valeria and Shoshana scatter, dodging another volley of heavy rocks.
Taking an entire orc to the face, though, finally breaks Clem out of the stun. She’s ready to lumberjack down some trees - oh, wait, Gral’s lying there moaning. The battle medic gives him a good slather of Space Mayo, and he’s fine, though he probably smells like a sandwich.
Gral and Shoshana pop off a couple of spells for minor effect, the tuberous creatures shrugging off most of the effects. They’re bothered enough to retaliate, though; the one Valeria’s facing off against hefts her into the air for another round of PC Bowling, flattening Shoshana. The hail of rocks from the rest of the Yeetroots doesn’t let up, but their aim is only mediocre.
Aethis snacks on a root-person Valeria nicely carves up for them, and as Clem gets to slicing and dicing it looks like the fight’s falling in our favor.
Suddenly, a short human guy in rough clothing charges ungracefully out of the woods, crossing through the undergrowth strangely quickly for someone so unathletic-looking. He clonks a Yeetroot over the head with a long wooden staff, whacking it a few times for good measure so it stays down, and then looks up at us with a frustrated expression. “What the hell are you kids doing? Get out of here!” he shouts irritably, like we’re trespassing on his lawn. 
He’s got a bit of an accent. It’s much heavier than Shoshana’s; even by her small-town standards it’s the rural accent of someone who speaks Old Valdian regularly.
Gral Dissonant Whispers a Yeetroot, causing it to run past Clem and the Old Dude. It runs straight into Clem’s sword and dies. Shoshana, Valeria, and Aethis efficiently dismantle the last one standing.
Clem’s ears, still sore from the mandrake’s cry, pick up additional movement through the woods. Sounds like the Yeetroots weren’t the only ones interested in loud, clumsy prey.
The old man seems to know it too, and he starts to scold us. “Pulling a mandrake while the woods are like this? Dummkopfen! Now get outta here! Scram!”
“I’m sorry, we didn’t have a choice-“
“What are you doin’ yakkin’? MOVE!” he shouts, turning and dashing into the underbrush. Shoshana barely catches him muttering “those IDIOTS” in Old Valdian as he scrams.
Well, we’re definitely not gonna stick around either. Old Dude went northeast. The Sturmhearst camp is to the south. We’re all thinking this weird crotchety old man is a druid, so he’s gonna know the best way to go and also we could totally ask him a few burning questions. With a concise nod to each other, we dash after the druid, Valeria swinging herself up onto Aethis’ back.
The wooooooooods are aliiiiiiiive, with the sound of monsterrrrrs, but following the druid’s trail we manage to dodge down an old gully and manage to shake any of them who came to investigate the commotion. Unfortunately, we’ve just put all those monsters in between us and the Sturmhearst camp. We pause, crouched in creek bed, as the last walking tree’s footfalls fade into the distance.
Gral breaks the silence: “…wait, was that a druid?”
Shoshana grumps. “How are we gonna FIND him? He could be a SQUIRREL by now! And I’m surprised he even speaks city-folk Valdian.”
We got the sense of how he moved – he hasn’t left a footprint, but we’ve picked up his pattern a bit. We could keep following him, and Valeria suggests the quest will give time for the monsters attracted by our noise to disperse. Gral doesn’t want to pass up the opportunity to find out what the Druids know about the Prisoners, and Valeria’s hopeful he might have seen the other Order of the Rose knight about.
Shoshana beefs her Survival check. We’ve been doing well following his pattern of not disturbing plant or animal tracks, trying to think like a druid wood. But we hit a dead end.
And then Clem casually points out some tracks none of the rest of us can even make out.
Please. Clem Haxan has tracked wood elf partisans. One aging human is nothing.
We follow Clem’s lead for about an hour. As midday approaches, we notice the sense of vibrant, chaotic, suffocating life is fading a little, and the sickening-sweet scent of flowers and spores has lessened. We come upon a grove of trees, standing tall, centered around one utterly massive tree in the middle whose canopy is just barely open enough to allow beams of light to spear through. In every beam, a sapling has begun to grow. Others, a little more seasoned, have grown tall and thin to push up through the great tree’s canopy.
Deeper in the grove, Shoshana can hear a voice in Old Valdian, and it’s mostly swearing.
“Dumb fuckin’ kids, I swear, first it was those meshuggenah bird mask idiots, now we got - what the hell were those morons doing, stirring everything up? Hard enough when the woods are just tryin’ to kill ME without having to keep an eye our for-”
It seems to be a one-sided conversation. Rambling, but pausing for responses that we can’t hear. Shoshana cautiously steps closer.
She wants to be respectful, but the closest thing Old Valdian has to deferential is a greeting without commentary. “...Hello?”
The voice pauses, and then speaks to its silent companion. “Do ya hear something? Go check it out.”
We all roll real bad Perception. Gral is starin’ real hard, and he only sees a squirrel loop the big tree. We don’t hear the druid say anything else.
She tries a Message cantrip: “We wish to respect your solitude, but we need to speak with you.” Hopefully a decent Persuasion roll will do.
“Wait. Hold up,” the voice grumbles in Old Valdian, heaving a massive sigh. “They’re idiots, they’re not gonna-” 
Something big makes a “GRAAHK” noise. 
“No, they’re not gonna go away unless I talk to them. Look, they followed me here. I knew it was unavoidable.” He calls out to us in common Valdian. “All right, come on in, no funny business.”
Being seasoned D&D players, we’re hesitant to cross the giant patch of fallen leaves, but it turns out it’s not a booby trap; it’s just what happens when you’re under a big ol’ tree. They are pleasingly crunchy and probably serve as an excellent intruder warning.
The druid isn’t pleased with our caution. “Either leave or come over here! Let’s get this over with.”
We circle the tree to find a small hut in a sunbeam, with a little garden. The old guy, looking like a hippie Danny DeVito, is sitting outside on a fallen log, prodding a small campfire with a stick as he heats a kettle over it. More notably, there is an owlbear curled up next to the fire.
“I wouldn’t get too close, he likes eatin’ fingers,” the druid grumps. “That’s why he’s called Fingers.”
“Oh! This is Aethis, and I’m Kyr Va-”
“Yeah, yeah, get to the point.”
“Are you a druid?”
“Ah, right to the point.”
We manage to stumble over a quick introduction, and that we want to ask him about the Druids’ actions against the artist’s colony in Holzog.
“So all druids know each other, huh?” He starts peeling a potato, unimpressed.
"I don’t know how druids work! There was an organized attack against cultists of the Key, at an artist's colony at Holzog Valley. Do you know of this, and are the Druids in an organized resistance against the Prisoners?"
 “Are druids an organized anything?” Shoshana snarks.
Druid DeVito rolls his eyes. “Look, mask guy. I go where I’m needed. I don’t know anything about what’s going on in Holzog. I barely know what’s going on here, I just got here!”
“You... just got here?”
“Yeah, like a month or two ago. Hard to get lay of the land when EVERYTHING’S TRYIN TA KILL YOU, not to mention it’s hard to get a handle on things when idiot adventurers are runnin’ around STIRRIN’ THINGS UP!”
Gral soldiers on. “Well, what do you know of the curse corrupting this area? We were here gathering supplies for a ritual, but it seems like there is also trouble here, what with the villagers and the trolls."
Gral is very polite, so the druid grudgingly answers. “Look, here’s how it goes. This” – he taps the tree – “is Mother Tree. It’s important, for reasons. There’s always supposed to be a druid warden here. But something happened. She’s gone now. So I heard it through the grapevine, and I got called in.”
“Was it a literal grapevine?” 
“The old bag and the windy bastard have ways of getting in touch with us, if we’re needed. They told me I gotta go here and – well, so I came. I’m tryin’ to figure out what happened to old warden, figure out what I can do to keep the place safe. It’s a lotta work! But right now I’m trying to make lunch. Because lemme tell you, this owlbear is a lot calmer than most of his type, but he WILL eat me if he gets too hungry.”
“As far as what I know about it? Half the valley got taken. Everything west of the river got overgrown. Haven’t spent much time on the other side; I don’t wanna get spotted. You see what happens when somebody gets a look at me.” He gestures dismissively to all of us. “No good deed, and all that.”
“So half the valley got overgrown. My sources tell me the other half is honestly not doin’ much better, even though it looks better on the outside. Like I said, I’m still tryin’ to get my networks up and running, which is difficult when most of my sources are working for the enemy.”
“Yeah, the villagers have fungus brain,” Shoshana tells him. “Someone who came from this village seemed to be corrupted by fungus, and was working to encourage its spread. Also, they’re bringing in a Fuckton of Trolls to Bad Herzfeld. Which, if they get fungused, is...bad.”
Valeria, meanwhile, is attempting to feed the owlbear some granola. After a moment, she elects to just toss the bag in its direction. Handfeeding an owlbear is Not Wise.
“I’ll add that to my list of problems,” the old man grumbles. “Bunch of sporebrained trolls, sporebrained villagers, plants tryna kill me…all right. How many they got so far?”
“One troll was definitely fungused, but he’s dead. There’s about 8 at the troll moot now. Their food stores look spore-free so far, but we’re going to be looking into the village more.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t want to be corruptin’ ‘em yet, it’d tip their hand too early. Trolls are usually solitary types. With how the sporebrains work, any new arrivals would be majorly creeped out. They’d want to get a critical mass before they try to get ‘em brainwashed.”
We agree that’s probably the plan. We explain the situation in Holzog, and ask what he knows about the druids’ actions there and whether the druids are the Prisoners’ jailers.
He shrugs. “Me and mine, we don’t talk to each other much. We each got our beats to cover. It’s not like they give us a manual – we’re not super fond of writing things down. Rumor is there’s old sources – real old – that have some knowledge, but otherwise you gotta get lucky and get a visit from the bosses themselves. But they’ve never been the most reliable.”
“The...bosses? Like Baba and Gramps?” Shoshana asks, referring to the old grandmother and grandfather gods of the woods.
“Yeah, they don’t exactly come when you ring a bell. Now I don’t know what old rattlechains, or the angry lady, or the quiet guy, or the sneaky bastard are like, but the chiefs aren’t communicative at the best of times. And since this fakakta Curse thing started they’ve been harder to get a hold of. We get our orders, they keep us busy, but there ain’t much in the way of answers. I’m told to guard this place, and do my thing. The ‘Prisoners,’ or whatever? That’s new to me.
“Look, stay away from the villagers, anyone especially friendly, anyone who talks about love, togetherness, caring, all that crap. Don’t go anyplace overgrown, anyplace with too many mushrooms. Spores will get in your brain.”
“I just do what I’m told. Or infer, really, I’m not told enough to do what I’m told.
If you wanna be helpful – something’s spreading this. The Curse spreads enough on its own, but something’s deliberately spreading it around. Go hunt for whatever’s doing that. Also, I can’t find previous warden – y’know, the person whose beat this is supposed to be.
He’s mostly losing interest in us, but can’t resist one last jab. “What do you need that mandrake for anyway? Half the things you think they can do, they can’t.”
Valeria jumps at the chance to talk about her Quest. “Over in Mornheim they’re dealing with the undead sort of curse. There’s a disease in the water affecting the whole population, and we found a ritual to purify the river! It’s not the sort of magic I usually work with, but I think I can make it function with the plants that I need. I’ve got almost all of them!”
“Hmm. Whatcha missin’?”
We check our notes. “Norbert’s Wort?”
Those Sturmhearst guys might have some, if you wanna try to get it off ‘em. Or there’s a bunch of it growin’ not far from the riverbank. Lemme see this ritual of yours, I wanna make sure you’re not wastin’ your time.”
He gives it the once-over with a surprisingly appreciative eye. “Oh, huh. Rosalind’s work.” He rolls up the scroll, slaps it back into Valeria’s claws, and turns to walk out into the wood. “Get outta here. I got things to do. If you stick around, Fingers will eat ya.”
Wait.
There’s a beat, and then Shoshana starts yelling. “WAIT, ROSALIND? BECAUSE WE FOUND THIS IN THE HOUSE OF A LADY NAMED ROSALIND. AND I DIDN’T THINK YOU GUYS WERE INTO HOUSES? WAIT COME BACK SHE’S A GHOST NOWWWWWW-”
He’s gone. Dammit.
We wave goodbye to Fingers.
As we cautiously make our way out of the grove, Gral is asked to make a Charisma check. A leaf, still stuck to a small bent twig, falls from the great tree and gently helicopters down. He reaches up a hand and catches it out of the air, easily, as if it was intended to find his hand. With an excellent perception check, he glances up and sees the silhouette of a motherly face in the branches. It’s hard to spot among the rustling green canopy, but it’s looking down at us from the branches - he can almost see a wooden torso in one branch – and then the shape pulls back into the branch, moving through it like sand.
Gral experiences an internal hell yes.
Gral has received: one twig with some leaves! It has vibes. This thing is definitely special, and a gift – not from the druid, but from the Mother Tree.
It clearly has Properties, but we do not know what they are.
So, what next? Trying to get the last plant for the spell has a nonzero chance of getting us lost overnight. We could stop by the Sturmhearst annex, or check in on the trolls....wait. Dang it. This morning we told that old lady we’d stay in town overnight. And we’ve already stood up one dinner invitation this arc.
As Clem capably leads us around dangers and toward Sturmhearst, Gral stares at his twig. He can see the leaves seem to move without wind, and he slowly realizes he’s able to predict which ways Clem is gonna lead us based on which way the leaf radar blows. It seems the gift can help find safe passage in the wood!
With a good survival check, we manage to skirt all dangers and the riled-up zone. Once again we smell acrid smoke from Sturmhearst camp and pass by the impassive looking giant owl guards with their flamethrowers. We see Rita the robot chicken hop by with something in her mouth, and follow her into camp. She ignores us and bops right up into the house that contains Prof. Ulmus’ lab.
Hey, we should go check on Flynn! A student directs us to where they’ve set up their clinic in an old barn, and soon we are confronted with a steely-eyed Fiona, arms crossed, glaring at us. “Hi, we, uh-”
She is silent, as usual, but Valeria rolls a nat 20 insight and can read her face like a book. She’s mad that we didn’t come back when we said we would – we made them worry, and also left them alone in this den of academic madness.
Valeria stumbles over a sincere apology until she is interrupted by a solid barbarian hug.
The paladin takes this as her opening to gossip about our day. “We got plants! And got real lost! We slept over a troll’s place!” Fiona makes a surprised gesture. “Yeah, there’s like eight. They have HOUSES. It’s surreal?!?!?! One of them thinks he’s a doctor!”
She’s interrupted when Dr. Ulmus sticks her hand through a curtain and hands off a vial of blood. Valeria now has blood. “Take this to my lab, please.”
Valeria blinks. “O...kay?” She dutifully leaves to take the blood to the lab.
Shoshana can’t keep her mouth shut. “Uh, ma’am? ….did you not notice that wasn’t a grad student?”
“Hm?”
“You gave this to the paladin.”
“…Good. She’ll follow orders. WAIT, YOU’RE BACK!” The doctor bursts through the curtain, beak-first.
“We come bearing fungus!” Clem gives her a vial of fungus. Clem is then ordered to take this to Prof Ulmus’s lab. She does. 
So now we have two tanks in a lab. They try to flag down a grad student and make them do it . No, too bad, they’re busy. Clem is like, what if I’m enormous and intimidating? But the grad student is not impressed. “Please. Do you know what kind of horrors I’m studying? You can’t terrify me.”
Valeria is like FFFF CAN YOU PLEASE JUST TELL ME WHERE THE BLOOD GOES. But the grad student leaves.
Oh hey, that rack has vials of red stuff. She puts the blood in the blood rack.
Clem shrugs, sets the fungus on a random table, and leaves.
Back at the clinic, a pale and haggard Flynn stumbles out and leans on Fiona. “My sister was very worried,” he tells us, making a flimsy effort at his usual grandiosity. “I, of course, had total confidence in you!”
Fiona, deadpan, signs: [He cried.]
Professor Ulmus finally emerges in full. “Well, Mr. Fairgold, I’d say you’re well on your way to recovery! Practice those breathing exercises I showed you and take it easy for next few days.”
Valeria and Clem hustle back, spouting apologizes for missing dinner, because Valeria is polite and Clem is genuinely upset at missing the opportunity to pick the doctor’s brain about medicine.
“Hmm, yes, you’re back! Well, you’re all alive…” Professor Ulmus starts inspecting us, her beaked mask tilting this way and that. “…oh dear.” She prods Clem a bit. “Yes, hmm.” She briskly hands Clem some sort of compressed herb poultice. “You’ll want to eat this.” Clem immediately makes a med check. It’s some kind of medicine, I guess. Clem swallows it. It tastes super gross.
“So!” she chirps. “I look forward to hearing what you’ve learned. How was your expedition, did you find what you were looking for?”
“Most of it,” Valeria admits. “We’re still looking for Norbert’s Wort.”
“I have a bit, but it’s spoken for, I’m afraid. Anyhow, I believe a dinner was planned! It’s a good thing you didn’t show up last night, I forgot all about it. I had to do quite a lot of work on Mr. Fairgold. The fungal infestation in his lungs should be cleared up, although the treatment did leave some aftereffects. Nausea, some trouble breathing for a few days. Nothing major.”
Valeria just sort of awkwardly lifts her hand, offering Lay Ons. He waves her off, bluffing his way past her insight. Sure, he’s fiiiiiiiine.
“He was fortunate. Not the worst I’ve seen – something worse would have required a substantially more radical treatment. More invasive, too. Were any of you exposed?”
“Uhh, not to that, but to other things?” We tell her about the Snorlax bear over a plate of sandwiches.
“Yes, I’ve seen similar phenomena – a fungal colony hijacking a living creature. Unfortunately that’s where my expertise ends – I might have to discuss with my, ugh, colleague in the aberrant biology department.”
Valeria tells her about the dream mushroom feast. “So you tripped on mushrooms and hallucinated and fought some mushroom men. We’ve all been there.” The professor waves it off with disinterest. “Yes, spooky curse magic messing with your mind, I’m sure it was harrowing. And/or enlightening. But I don’t have time for spooky magics; I’m a woman of SCIENCE! Speaking of, Clementine, where did you put that fungus?”
“On a table with similar looking specimens?” 
“Pardon me a moment.” She immediately stands and runs. We see a huge guard stomp toward the lab. Then flamethrower noises. There’s a bit of screaming. 
She emerges slightly scorched, fixing her coat. “That…was the wrong table. It’s cross contaminated! Well, I suppose that’s the cost of science. Sometimes, in order to make great discoveries, you must burn a table of samples before they kill you.”
“I’m sorry, I asked a grad student and he said put it anywhere, really!” Clem bluffs.
“Which one?” 
“....um, a short guy wearing a bird mask?
“Ah, Jean-Pierre, I know him. We will have words later. Never trust an entomologist, they’ve all got a head full of beetles or something. So! What’s next for you? I can’t say we have a ton of room here, but I’m sure we can try to find somewhere for you to stay...”
Valeria idly taps the clear bead on her earring chain. “Well, we DID promise to stay at the inn in town tonight...”
Ulmus hums discontentedly. “I trust the villagers precisely as far as my guards can throw them.”
Shoshana butts in. “Right? Okay, because the last time we stayed in a fungus person’s house I was RIGHT and it SUCKED.”
We go back and forth, deciding we’ll keep our promise but stay in the annex for dinner. A feast in Mushroom Town sounds...ominous.
Clem, determined, asks the professor if she can have a flamethrower. Sadly, it doesn’t matter how much Clem pleads her strength and skill, those had to be SPECIALLY REQUISITIONED from the ENGINEERING DEPARTMENT. She had to call in favors! Now if you’ll excuse her, she has work to do.
We have an early dinner, and then head to other side of river for the first time. The difference could not be more marked. If this wasn’t German old-growth forest, the other side would be a jungle (a fungus jungle? A fungle.); these are lush, rolling, well-tamed agricultural fields dotted with quaint farmhouses; rural but civilized. 
The “town” is a bare handful of buildings clustered around a small mill. A general store, the mill, the inn, a sheriff’s office, and that’s really it. Blacksmith. Handful of tradespeople. Pretty standard – these are people who live to support the surrounding farmers.
Not far from there we can see the Farmers’ Temple we heard about, a plain round wooden structure with large carved symbols for Rack, Torme, and Lethe. By Valeria’s standards, it’s the absolute bare minimum of what counts as a temple. “They’re trying, I appreciate that.”
As we travel into town, Valeria can see that the people on this side of river seem to fall firmly into 1 of 2 camps: some are incredibly healthy, almost overly large and well-fed, and very happy. The other half seems sickly. Not as bad as Mornheim, but we can easily sort people into Kinda Sickly or Big Healthy. There’s a lot of coughing. Perhaps the Medusoid Mycelium?!
It’s nearly sunset; we head down to the inn. There’s a couple of people sitting around the inn, farmers getting a drink after making deliveries to the mill. A friendly innkeeper named Aaron greets us. “Ah, you must be the people I’ve heard about!”
“Yes, Zelig told you about us?”
“Yeah, I’ve got some rooms prepped for ya. What brings you to town? We don’t get many of your type around – knights, or whatever you are.”
“Oh, we heard there’d been another Knight of the Rose around,” Shoshana probes.
“That’s what Zelig says, haven’t seen him.”
“Well, uh, thank you for your hospitality?”
We head upstairs, breaking into our usual pairs of roommates - Clem with Gral, Valeria with Shoshana, Aethis in the stables weirding out the horses.
Clem, the wary soldier, checks around to ensure the room is secure. She finds something! A note has been tucked into the mattress. “YOU ARE IN DANGER. COME DOWNSTAIRS AFTER THE SERVICES START AT THE TEMPLE.”
Huh.
She tells the rest of us. Everyone is like, “...yeah, we already knew that?” But it’s excellent news that not every villager is in on it.
There’s a knock on Clem’s door. A nervous young woman is standing there, holding a tray full of pastries. “Hey, uh. My dad wanted me to give you these. They’re leftover, they’d just go stale anyway.” 
“Oh, uh, thank you! Much obliged. Um, will that be all?”
“Try ‘em, at least take a look at them. They’re pretty good,” the girl tells her insistently, and scurries off.
Clem and Gral immediately inspect the pastries suspiciously. Pulling one apart - sure enough, there’s a note stuffed in a pastry! It says “CHECK UNDER THE BED.”
Under the bed, where Clem found the first note.
Gral pops down to the tavern area to get a few more deets from Aaron the innkeeper. Turns out temple services start after sundown. “You’ll know it, you’ll see people headin’ towards it. Why, you thinkin of attending?”
“We have a paladin with us, she’s always interested in the local religious customs.”
“It’s nothing you’d be interested in. More of a town hall meeting than anything.”
“I understand. Thank you for the pastries, they were absolutely delicious!”
“Oh, thanks kindly! Sleep well.”
Sure enough, as the sun sets we see lights in the dark as people start streaming in from across the valley to the Farmers’ Temple.
Once it looks like the last stragglers have made it into the service, Clem knocks on wall separating our rooms, as a signal, and we head downstairs. We try to be quiet about it. Aaron and his daughter are there, cloaked and ready for travel. His daughter has a hooded lantern in her hand.
“I don’t know what you people came here for, but you’re not gonna find it here,” whispers the innkeeper urgently. “You have to leave.”
“What kind of danger?”
“I keep my ears open. Zelig came back this morning, told some people about some outsiders, guests – told us to have rooms ready for them, and then stay out of their way when they came for you tonight. I don’t know how long we have – they always go to temple first, but the clock’s running. I don’t know you much, but you seem-“
“This has happened before?” Valeria breaks in, concerned.
“Not in so many words, but, yeah. People have gone missing. Last time we couldn’t do anything about it. We weren’t warned; they just showed up in the night. This time they were worried – there’s more of you, and better armed. Last time was just traveling merchants.”
Gral nods. "We came here looking to find what 'they' were planning at the troll moot. We don't just want to run away, but if you're in danger for housing us, that can wait. What's next?"
“The troll moot? Yeah that’s fishy, but I don’t know how to warn ‘em away. You folks seem connected, can you get word out about this place? But be discreet. I’ve heard stories about the Penitents, and I don’t want no part of that either. There’s still good people here. A lot of people in that temple there, though – I would have sworn they were good people too, until this all started. I’m not sure what it’s all about. We haven’t been going to services, and so far they haven’t forced us to. But they had folks posted in the inn, makin’ sure you showed up tonight. 
“You gotta get moving. Rebecca can get you to someplace safe. Slip out now, and finish leaving the valley tomorrow night.”
Clem insights ‘em, and then seem genuinely honest and concerned for us.
“Whatever this is, something about you guys has them spooked, so I wanna make sure you survive. There’s strange things afoot in Herzfeld these days.”
“Would they let you leave?” Valeria asks.
“I don’t wanna know what would happen if we tried. So far they’ve been content to let us keep running the inn, serving ‘em drinks.”
“How have you evaded their influence?” Clem asks suspiciously. “What makes you the exception?”
“Not everybody’s one of ‘em. The woman, Zelig, she came out of the woods a couple months ago after the other side of river fell. She started talkin’ to people, sayin’ she knew way to protect us. People were scared, ‘specially since the old cleric went over to the other side of the river and never came back. A bunch of people went down to the temple to hear her say her piece. 
“Those that went – not all of them came back. Afterwards, she started holding services regularly. Meetings, gatherings, whatever. Those that go, their crops flourish, they get strong and healthy. Those that don’t start to get sick. Their crops die. And once people start getting sick, everyone tells ‘em to go to temple and pray about it.”
I don’t know why Rebecca and I have managed to avoid the brunt of it so far.”
Rebecca pipes up. “I’ve snuck into the temple during day, it’s open to everyone. It seems fine mostly, bit run down – everything seems to be in place. But whatever’s going on there, it’s weird. The point is, I can take you to a safe place.”
Her dad nods. “I dunno where it is. Safer that way.”
Rebecca continues, her face too grim for her young age. “I’ve been smuggling people out of the valley. Mostly, people who oppose Zelig just vanish. Dad keeps the inn running and keeps his ears open. Anyone we suspect might be in danger, we get them out.”
Valeria considers. “We’re not going until we figure out what’s going on, but staying safe for tonight is not a bad idea.”
“I don’t know how long the service will go. It can be ten minutes, it can be an hour. We have to get moving, now.”
We hurriedly discuss: we want to know what happens at the mysterious services, but Valeria and Clem aren’t exactly built for stealth. Rebecca says that during the service itself, the town’s pretty deserted - everyone either goes in or stays well away.
We decide to split the party: Rebecca will take Team Clank to meet her friends at the safe house; Gral and Shoshana will sneak up to the temple.
 “I can’t tell you where safe house is; if you get captured, you’ll spill. Meet me at the top of hill there. I’ll be hiding in the bushes right by the old fence.”
The shadowy huntress and the subtle bard manage to get close without giving themselves away. Gral gets right up next to a window, and listens in, staying out of the window’s line of sight.
Zelig’s voice booms out, rich and strong: “Brothers, Sisters, we come to our next business. You have heard of the outsiders. They come, they question us. They question our ways, our motives. They endanger our sacred project with our brethren amongst the trolls. Do not fear, for we have a solution: I sense in them a great capacity for love and understanding. Tonight we shall find them, and give them a chance to join in our love. Should they not, should they hold hatred in their hearts, then those hearts may be hollowed and made ready for our love. Come brothers, come sisters, come family.”
Gral minor illusions the hue of the night sky onto his face, hoping it’s enough cover to peek in the window unnoticed.
“It is time. First, let us renew our bonds,” the old woman intones. Zelig stands in the center of the circular room. All the people around her are tall, strong, and glowing with health, crowded together, holding hands. Zelig taps a floorboard, and Hans and Frans solemnly move to pry up the board. 
Underneath is a lush green carpet of plant life. Fungus and vines creep out of the floorboard, growing at an impossible rate. Everyone stands as a wave of vegetable and fungal matter extends through temple, climbing up the worshippers’ legs and enveloping their bodies entirely. As Hans and Frans pull back the boards, a frame rises up; vines work their way into frame, forming a picture. Blooming flowers and different shades of leaves and lichen form the image of a female figure, motherly looking, bound in roots. Yet another tapestry?
The worshippers speak in eerie unison. “Though bound, she will be free. She is the growth. She is our love. She is protection. She will grow free of her bonds. We will grow as she does.” The chanting does not falter as the wave of plant matter entirely consumes the chamber. Gral ducks back under the window as the air chamber starts to fill with dense, cloudy spores.
He’s been relaying everything he sees to Shoshana with Message, and they both agree: We’ve seen what we can see, it’s time to get the hell out of here.
Meanwhile, Rebecca leads Valeria and Clem out of the town proper to a set of  rolling hills near an abandoned granary. There’s a cleverly hidden trapdoor set almost invisibly into the sod, leading down into a small network of caves.
“They used to use these caves to make cheese! Hmm...it should be this one tonight.” She bypasses several doors set into the earthy tunnels, stopping at one seemingly at random and knocking softly.
A voice on the other side whispers, “Who are you?”
 “One who seeks freedom,” Rebecca whispers back.
“And who are we?”
“The last Free Thieves!”
...What.
The door opens a crack, and Rebecca hurriedly herds the tanks through. “The guy in charge is the little guy. His name’s Henri Decannes. Him or one of his people will help you get out. I have to get your friends.” She runs back into night, vanishing into the darkness.
Valeria groans. She understands that stabbing Henri is not an appropriate action at this time, but dang would she enjoy it. And now she’s gonna have a DEBT to him? Maaaaaaaan.
As Gral begins to sneak back over to Shoshana, behind them, they hear the congregants start to move.
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canvaswolfdoll · 7 years
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CanvasListens: The Adventure Zone
The Adventure Zone was a tough sell to me, despite (and possibly because of) seeing it pop up as various artists I respect began getting into the podcast.
First off, despite my love of the hobby, I have a rather low tolerance for second hand accounts. Short stories focusing on a singular, amusing event is great. Multi-part text narratives are a no go. Likewise, I’ve always had difficulty getting into actual play podcasts, since most that I encounter don’t really put a lot of weight on actual entertainment over, you know, just putting a recorder in the middle of the table during the usual game night. So I listen to very few Actual Plays.
And by ‘few Actual Plays’, I mean One Shot (Which does a good job of rotating content and keeping the separate narratives relatively short and self-contained) and Campaign (Which started with good production quality, and already had my loyalty due to being a One Shot spinoff show.) I don’t even listen to rest of their network.
I’d made a couple attempts at Critical Role, but since it’s a continuation of the cast’s ongoing campaign (thus continuity lockout) and was confined to YouTube for years (thus I couldn’t really listen while driving, running errands, or doing chores), I just couldn’t force myself to be invested. And it’s cast is a bunch of Voice Actors! I love voice actors!
Basically, a bunch of the usual complaints I have about media accessibility.
Further, as Adventure Zone’s popularity began exploding, I admit there was a degree of resentment on my part. I’ve longed harbored a desire to have my own Actual Play show, and if the genre’s exploding now, while I’ve still got no concrete plans, chances are, once I do have my act together,[1] I’ll again be starting during the twilight period of the genre.[2]
Dang it, McElroys! Don’t you burn the fuel before I even board!
Still, it was becoming a talking point, and was a downloadable podcast, so it wouldn’t hurt to try. Probably drop it after an episode or two.
The first couple of episodes were not promising. Players were mostly newbies, with a lot of rules talk; they were running the adventure that comes prepackaged in the Starter Set, which means I had to sit through the session that I’ve literally either tried to run or play several times. And it never gets past the freaking bugbear.
So, of course, after completing that specific portion, the McElroys promptly leave the rails, lightly skip past Phandalin, so I didn’t even get to finally see what’s supposed to happen after the lengthy mechanic and battle tutorial!
However, that’s also the point Griffin began making the story his own, so I might as well keep listening as I eat my slice of pre-work CostCo Pizza.
That’s what the series mostly was. Background noise as I prepared for work. The first couple arcs were okay. Not amazing, but okay. The performers were good comedically, and they seemed to be having fun, so it was alright.
I was intrigued by the premise of the second arc. Train-based mystery, huh? Sure. I’m always game for playing with tropes. Griffin, and the players, were beginning to explore character voices, and the NPCs were getting livelier. I admit, I was a quick sell on Angus. The precocious boy detective being placed in the middle of a train mystery, perpetrated by a serial killer, with a rather maimed body is just the right balance of darkly inappropriate.
Especially since Angus was there to solve the mystery in case the Boys were too incompetent.
Still, wasn’t too absorbed. I began swapping between TAZ Arcs and One Shot series. If I got too bored, I’d just drop TAZ, since podcasts are one of the few mediums I’m able to do so, since I can only will myself to consume them in limited circumstances (basically, while in transit, or some other activity that is physically busy but mentally void).[3]
Combat, however, remained a time for Canvas’s eyes to glaze over, and nothing of value to remain.
The Lunar Interludes were fun! Building comradery with a small community is what I’m about. Especially with their bunkmate, Pringles! Even though Griffin clearly didn’t want anything more to do with Pringles.
Poor Pringles.
Petals to the Metal is marked by many as the real turning point. I… liked it a little less than Rockport Limited? It started strong while the Boys were infiltrating a bank, and Taako has a semi-hypocritical moment I recognized from my favorite Pathfinder character, where this kleptomaniac wizard objected to Merle and Magnus taking time to rob the bank while supposedly saving it.[5]
However, this was followed by a sequence explaining the Mad Max race and infiltration to steal parts which… was actually kind of dull. The dialogue with the guards was great, but then it was long stretch of explaining a compound we’d never see again, and a large fight. Then there was a charming sequence where The Boys selected their animal motifs, with Taako getting an actually pretty nice (if meta) serious moment regarding his Mongoose mask.
Then the race itself was… a giant combat. Interesting enemy concepts. Still a giant combat.
The ending of the race, while exciting, didn’t carry much weight because I’d lost the thread due to not paying attention.
Then there was the final boss fight.
Petals to the Metal had a lot of combat, okay? I don’t enjoy combat!
However, music was beginning to be introduced, and it was pretty good. I was beginning to feel it.
Then the Crystal Kingdom knocked it up just enough notches for me to go ‘Huh. The finale’s coming soon? Better catch up.’ and gently set One Shot aside,[6] lean my head forward, and marathon with purpose!
The sound design continued to improve, to the point of being used to foreshadow the events of the arc. The events also helped highlight how the show creators were paying attention to and heeding the words of their audience. In a positive aspect, Griffin began reading out the lyrics of the song. And, in a bit of hilarious and spiteful worldbuilding, explains the origins of what were (apparently) the much discussed elevators.[7]
In retrospect, a lot of plot stuff happened in the lab. Weird.
It was a good arc for callbacks and call forwards.
Eleventh Hour, however, is my favorite arc. For some reason, I’m just a sucker for Groundhog Day loops.[9] Compounding this, Eleventh Hour was set in a small community of new characters, there was a mystery element, plenty of space for shenanigans, puzzles, ominous prophecy, and a well done tragic villain. Also, backstory for the three leads.
Oh boy, the backstory for the three leads.
I was a Taako fan until this arc. He clearly was the best character. However, as it turns out, Travis really did devise a solid backstory. A few quick early life scenes, then we’re shown he found happiness, won a happy ending already, and had it stolen.
Then Magnus showed his true strength of character, and I was sold. Magnus was my new boy. He’s great.
Anyways, episodes with ‘Finale’ in the title were showing up in the feed, and I wanted to stop spoiling myself, so I really had to buckle down.
Luckily, work kept putting me in the garden center as the season was in its death throes, so I had plenty of time to sit in a small hut with my phone and a pair of headphones. I’d begun actively looking for opportunities to listen to more, take longer errand runs to have an excuse to get through Eleventh Hour and more episodes.
It was a good time.
The Suffering Games however, was less good. Not because it was designed to be a miserable experience, which I naturally love. The sequence of events had a lot good character work, especially for Magnus. The Wheel of Sacrifice is an amazing concept once your players are high enough level, and Griffin does a good job narrating and describing what each sacrifice does.
Especially the loss of memories. Each one stung. And Griffin did a great job of making a few of the choices hurt in surprising ways; in particular, Merl giving up his unused Axe proficiency. What was originally a cop out, Griffin expertly weaved into a solid loss. Then Magnus was given a surprisingly insidious choice: losing the memory of who he had sworn revenge on.
Also a mercy, considering losing Julia might’ve been worse. However, narratively, that would’ve removed Magnus’s main drive and significant portion of his character. Remember, GMs, carefully consider how the threads are weaved before cutting them!
Plus, we also got a good demonstration of how close The Boys were when Taako and Merle agreed to take over the vengeance quest without further details. It’s important to Magnus, and now someone else needs to do it.[10]
Taako got off really light, as the only narrative sacrifice was his beauty, which Taako quickly rendered moot via magic.[11] Because we learned a lot about the other two, I wish Taako could’ve loss more.
However, the non-wheel of sacrifice parts were… well, they fell flat, and since there wasn’t space for any significant character interaction with someone outside of the party (even Cam got put into Magnus’s pocket), it was just gimmicky encounter after gimmicky encounter. It turned repetitive.[12] Prisoner Dilemma's don’t work if those on the other side aren’t emotionally significant.
Sure, looking back and examining it, a lot of interesting things happened. But sitting in the garden center, waiting for customers, it felt tedious. Not sad and emotionally devastating, just… eh.
Were I to replicate it, I’d probably combine the prisoner's dilemma and Wheel of Sacrifice, and make the players compete against one another. If you both spare the other, then you’re both given a choice between two sacrifices. If you’re forsaken by someone you spared, then you take both. And if you both forsake… I guess the GM just gets to decide which one you take?
If you want to up the ante in later rounds, offer to return something lost in later rounds if you forsake your partner. And if you want to twist the knife, have those spared choose the sacrifice for those they betrayed.[13]
Sorry, slipping into SepiaDice for a moment. Back to the review.
Reunion Tour was a good trip into the apocalypse, and final check in with a lot of the minor characters as everyone bugged out. Bad things are coming, and Madame Lucretia Director has a lot of secrets to be found.
Stolen century was... I don't know how I feel about it? There was a lot of backstory that needed to be conveyed suddenly, yes, but after the arc was concluded, I didn't feel like I'd learn much new about anything substantial. Nothing new about the world, since the places visited came and went so fast, that few left an impression.[14]
There were four characters for us and the players to get to know, but... Well, that didn't pan out too well. Of course, focus had to remain on the players, but ended up giving little room for Davenport, Barry, and Lucretia to develop. So, while it was an arc of vignettes, which is usually my jam, in this case, the vignettes were too small and delayed the plot so long, that I was just waiting for them to get on with it.
(Though, it probably didn't help that I was ill during the latter half of Stolen Century and the first two parts of the finale, making it kind of a blur.)
How to possibly improve it? Well, let's put the SepiaDice hat back on, I guess.[15]
First off, I wouldn't have changed systems, and not just because I hear about Powered by the Apocalypse so often I've become burnt out without ever playing it. Staying with 5e would've maintained a level of consistency with the rest of the series, and let the players use their experience to act the part of the well traveled people they are in the arc.[16]
Second, instead of a bunch of ten minute scenes for a handful of worlds, spend an episode on a world and do a one shot. Show them preparing to leave their homeworld, then the first world. Then do sessions covering the rest of the details that need to be conveyed.
Finally, integrate the other four crewmembers into these adventures. There's two viable methods: rotate through them as a sort of 'Guest NPC' (or Guest PC if they want to bring on temporary cast members). Or, let the players run two characters (Give Lup to Justin, Davenport to Clint, and probably Barry over to Travis) while Young Lucretia can be mission control until it's time to toughen her up.
So... that's Stolen Century, I guess? I'm having a hard time remembering specifics.
Story and Song was a good finale.
I don't get to play many endings. In fact, I’ve played only the one, and... it wasn't a good campaign to begin with, so it is what it was.
The Adventure Zone, meanwhile, did what every good narrative should do: give a cameo to everyone they practically can, tying up any fraying that may have occurred. That way, the audience gets a chance to see their favorite character at least one more time.
Then, for the players, they were split up, and given an epic scene that contributed to the final conclusion, and closed their character arcs (even if that closure involves an old running gag.)[17]
Afterwards, into the breech for a fancy final battle.
Finally, the epilogue. I don't want to spoil it, but I do wish to speak on the framework. Griffin handled the epilogue perfectly. First, he asked the players to describe where the characters are a year later, then pitched what he (Griffin) would like to have happened while making it clear the player got final say, before both were happy with where we leave Taako, Merle, and Magnus.
That's how you finish a game.
Suffice it to say, I may have started with a lot of reservations, but I learned a lot, and hope to apply it to my own games and projects.
If you enjoyed this... whatever I just wrote... maybe poke around my blog. I have other reviews and essays. Maybe I wrote something else you like. If you'd like to support me and my creative endeavors, I have a patreon! I like money.
Thanks for reading.
Kataal kataal.
[1] Heh, wordplay. [2] Though, to be fair, I kinda knew Sprite Comics were ignoble going into Nintendo Acres. Still, it had its charm. [3] This is foreshadowing to the fact that I ended up making a conscious effort to listen to the show while hanging out at home.[4] [4] I was also sick with a stomach bug at the time, though. [5] In my case, Trix was happy to loot a corpse the party found on the side of the road, but not the crypt they were dungeon delving. In my defense, the road corpse had his things by accident, while the items in the crypt were deliberately interred. It’s a respectability thing. [6] I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. [7] As someone who had a player try and call out a clock as anachronistic, I can understand how that could be irritating.[8] I solved it by just saying ‘this isn’t Earth, and there’s a wall clock.’ But different strokes, I suppose. [8] There was also an ongoing debate about whether sandwiches existed. I was in the ‘Sandwich like things likely existed before the Earl of Sandwich’ camp, but I never got around to dredging up the Good Eats segment. [9] Fair warning: if I figure out how to replicate Endless Eight on my actual play show, I’m doing it. Same session, on repeat. And you’ll have to sit through it. [10] This better come up during a live show! [11] It’s always annoying when a player does that. [12] You may ask, ‘Canvas, you hated the repetitive feeling, yet you want to emulate Endless Eight?’ Well, you see, I also deeply love meta jokes on the audience. And I’m just a little Chaotic-Aligned. [13] Obviously, you’ll need a mature game group to do this, and an emotionally satisfying conclusion. [14] One was the world of TAZ Nights, but since I find participating in the Max Fun Drive off-putting for unknowable reasons, I had no context to care. [15] Which is probably a giant paper mache D12 mask. [16] But mostly I'm just sick of Fate and ApocalypseWorld. [17] Especially if it delivers on that running gag's punchline.
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grims-classpects · 8 years
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Hello! Could you analyze my session (they've been lovely so far), it has an indecisive but confrontational Witch of Blood who's interested in social justice, an anxious but eccentric Heir of Space who's pretty weird once you get to know her, a Knight of Time who only let's her guard down among a select few and really really likes knives/swords, and a short tempered mom-friend Prince of Doom who likes to shout. The KoT and PoD are
You have both cardinal aspects
You have a preference for active classes
You have a preference for negative classes (that is, if you count blood as a “negative” aspect)
You do not have any repeated classes or aspects
So that’s looking pretty strong up there with the bullet points! Thanks for being informative with the players (like listing their genders), and at a glance the small group looks pretty cute and tight knit, leading to some fun indepth story telling if that’s what you’re doing UvU. Be careful with the large number of active classes- their strong personalities can sometimes cause sessions to progress too quickly. Uh, also, I’m aware that I might have switched genders a couple times by accident- sorry about that!
Knight of Time
Knights of Time are very useful to have making sure the timeline stays alpha and reducing the number of doomed timelines, because they are naturally adept at using time to their advantage even if they don’t use it very often. Like Dave, she wears a mask to hide her fears and anxiety. Time is something that is very delicate, and it’s normally quite pessimistic and brutal in the sense that it’s very much about endings and inevitability. In the beginning, she may have tried to ignore her time turning powers for fear of messing it up and just rolled with everyone else’s quests, being adaptable and calm at all times.
Maybe after discussing with her moirail and others a bit, further into the session she might realise that hey! She’s actually alright at this stuff if she just gives it a go, and acutally, she has a knack for keeping on top of time loops. By the end of the (if not earlier on) she should be confident and at ease talking with versions of future and past self, etc.- it’s unlikely that she will have lost her on-top-of-things act, because after the game has put her through trials that undoubtedly spring up somewhere in the game, she will have been forced out of her comfort zone so that her unbreakable guard is cracked.
Role: All your time shenanigans should go fine with a knight of time, and knights are well known for utilising their aspect for battles, meaning she should be a useful combatant in the final battle (the fact that she’s good with blades are a plus too!! Always makes for an epic fight). Time players are also supposed to help with breeding the genesis frog, and although the knight might not be comfortable working so closely with the heir at first, I think the two would at the very least be a capable and efficient team.
Heir of Space
The Heir of Space is kind of the dreamer, the one with lofty plans that are so out there that she might be embarrassed to share them. But that’s okay, because the Heir is independent enough and makes her own way, doing the things she likes. I like the idea that she also “inherits” a lot of space, and is possibly cut off from society much like Jade was, which is why her ideas of what’s normal aren’t always conforming to society. In that way, I think she and the Prince might get along well considering the Prince also breaks down rules (whether they be social rules or not depends though, I suppose :V )
Role: I feel like the Heir would enjoy her weird and wonderful quest of breeding the genesis frog. She might spend a lot of time wandering around the environment and just thinking, getting her work done in random sporadic spikes of energy. The Heir is another good class for space, because there’s just so much potential. Space will be protecting her for most of the journey and when she is able to harness the power she inherits, the Heir will simultaneously be able to weaponise and defend with space when the time comes to battle.
Witch of Blood
The Witch of Blood has thought about social issues a lot and may have some extreme ideas on how to achieve them, but never putting their plans into motion because… what if it goes wrong? Unlike most blood players, the Witch isn’t afraid of the unknown; she values movement and progress as much as she does unity and loyalty, thinking the two go hand in hand.
As the game progresses she might learn her place in the team better and if she develops unhealthily become more decisive, quicker to think and act as she learns about the bonds and structure of all the people around her. If this develops unhealthily, the Witch might become more controlling- she will no longer just be confrontational, she would be able to manipulate bonds of the people around her and convince them that her opinion is correct.
Role: Another skilled fighter if she ascends to god tier. Due to the fact she’s interested in social justice, I imagine her land quest would be something related to that and she might be a bit cut off from the others so focused she is on completing her goal, meaning that she probably wouldn’t impact the session that much until the end unless she had to sort out those dang friendship problems that seem to arise in SBURB so often ;D. This isolation with just her, her consorts and her land would help her become in tune with her aspect a lot more by the end of, possibly as much as the heir is with space.
Her powers could be much like that of some heart and mind players in the sense she is able to manipulate the physical blood of someone, controlling the blood at making the body do as she pleased. Another power could be changing the social dynamic of the two kingdoms, however you want to take that.
Prince of Doom
My favourite classpect  *couGH* It sounds like this Prince is going down the route of destroying Doom, meaning that she is the one that goes heCK THE RULES and also destroys the idea of sacrificing by sheer mum will power alone! Whilst the Witch is good at understanding blood and is passionate about bonds, the Prince is just making sure everyone keeps safe and sound. That includes keeping her adorable moirail emotionally stable as well, making sure that the Knight progresses and keeps optimistic about things.
If the Prince was to have a breakdown as they often sadly do, I think it would be an angry breakdown  when one of her friends is hurt or killed, and her passionate emotion unlocks a different side of herself: destroying through death, decay, and ultimately DOOMing the person that hurt her friends.
Role: As said, the Prince is the one that makes sure everyone stays safe. Whilst in a larger group others might find her SHOUTiness annoying, her friends in the session are probably used to it and might find comfort/familiarity in it, knowing that she is only SHOUTing so that they will listen to her mum advice. She might have problems with the idea of ascension because it involves death, but if she does ascend then damn, I doubt I need to elaborate very much but someone who destroys doom and destroys through doom is going to be one huge force to be reckoned with.
Overall verdict
With your only unstable player being the Prince and even then she seems to be covered in the case of a breakdown, this team looks like it’ll do fine winning the game. The genesis frog will be created with ease, and the final battle should be a piece of case considering all the wicked powers going on here. Although your supportive/therapist type friend isn’t conventional (looking at you two, Witch and Prince) they are there and work well enough.
The one and only flaw I have with this, and in retrospect it’s quite a big one, is the fact that you don’t have any tacticans. These guys could all plunge into battle but then what? Do they even know what they’re doing? Although it’s likely they’ve pooled knowledge before to know what they’re looking for, it’s possible that the witch is so bent on social justice that by the end there is no leader of the group and no opinion is considered more important than another’s. Light players and seers make for good tacticians if you’re willing to have an uneven number of players.
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talldarknsexy · 5 years
Text
The Baltic’s and Finland
The Baltic's and Finland
From Warsaw I left the luxury apartment Magda had allotted me. I headed north and had a good three days riding through northern Poland. After about three tries, I found a shop that was willing to weld my frame. This time, unlike in Brazil, the shop had a proper gas/wire feed setup. Also, they would only accept cans of coke in payment.
In a bout of heavy traffic I bumped into a Spanish cyclist named Emilio. He was headed up and across to Siberia and I rode with him for a good hour or two. He was incredibly enthusiastic and passionate about cycling. I loved his upbeat attitude, but it was almost like listening to an infomercial on cycle touring. The unabridged freedom, the speed of a strong tailwind, the discoveries over every horizon. He was like a dang cycling motivational poster.
Crossing into Lithuania on a Saturday there were a lot of friendly people. Friendly people or... drunk people. Some of them could hardly stand up... We’ll go with drunk.
In the spirit of this jollification I wondered about finding a place to stay that was not alone in the forest. I passed by two very large different celebrations. One was almost facedown drunk, and the second was more of a dinner party. As the sun was setting, I happened upon a village of maybe 10 houses and there was a family drinking and having dinner. I waved and without hesitation the Mama waved me over.
Two of the daughters were back from the city for the weekend and spoke fairly good English. They helped translate why the fuck there was an tall goofy American in their backyard with a tent and a bicycle in the middle of rural Lithuania. Papa Mančiakaitytė passed me a large bottle of vodka with a pre-poured shot. The tradition is to drink, pour and then pass to someone of your choosing. A feast got eaten, questions were translated, jokes were made, and the Vodka bottle got smaller.
They owned some cows and grew most of their own food. I’d already observed that this post soviet country still had huge agriculture, but privately owned. Everyone farms here, and this family grew most of their own food.
In the morning, I was spoiled again by breakfast and I set off with a basket of strawberries and a traditional Lithuanian cake. Very special family and great hospitality.
That next day I passed by the section of Kalingrad Russia. It was a weird feeling listening to Bruce Springsteen on Spotify, but seeing two Migs (Russian fighter jets) flying overhead. I must be getting closer I thought. And Latvia itself does share quite a bit with Russia and its Baltic counterparts almost consider it an extension of Russia.
I don’t remember much of the Latvian countryside. But as it was starting to rain one evening, a lady working at a lodge/campground let me camp underneath a pavilion even though I did not have any Euro bills to pay. I might have snuck in a cold shower as well...
In Riga I spent two nights hanging out with 3 Swiss German cyclists, Vittoria, Flurina, and Noeme. We went out to look at street art, couldn’t find it, and went to go eat instead.
I had three days riding through Estonia with pretty good wind. Also, good camping. They subscribe to the Nordic notion of free campsites, with benches, shelter, outhouses, and even pre-chopped wood. One was right on the Baltic Sea, and it was strange going for a swim at 10pm while it was still perfectly light out.
The next night was the summer solstice and I pushed an extra 40km to make it to one of these campsites. There wasn’t a huge rush though, as it never fully gets dark... but there was a family in a camper-van there and 3 Estonian 20-somethings smoking hookah. I went to join the locals with a beer. I learned that Estonia only has a bit over a million people and most end up moving abroad.
Later, the Slovakian couple from the camper-van came over with a bottle of vodka after putting their kids to sleep. This had been a challenge for them since it’s never really dark. The Estonians left to get some sleep in preparation the St. Johns festival the following night. The Slovakian guy has told me how relieved he was when I showed up. He was nervous about the local Estonians being rowdy or violent... Now maybe I have my perceptions wrong, but Estonians are seemingly quite civilized, reserved people. It’s partying with Solvakians and vodka I’d worry ending up in a gutter, less one kidney. Anyways... They were all good company for the solstice and I went to sleep either that night or that morning. It’s hard to say whether the sun was going down or coming up.
I made it to Tallin the next day, and the following, met with Sandy, an old friend from my hometown. He’d been planning a trip to visit his friend Mimi in Helsinki whom I’d met years before. Sandy was the first friend from the states I’d seen in almost 2.5 years, so it was swell catching up again. We did some tourist stuff and checked out the St. John’s festival in town before they had to take the ferry back to Helsinki that night. I had another day in Tallin and then went ferried over to join Sandy for his last night. We went straight to a public sauna. I didn’t exactly know what to expect, but it was super cool. It was a free, volunteer run sauna outside an industrial park right on the sea. We grilled some sausage on a fire there, drank some beer and rum, sauna’d, and went for a few swims. All of which very enjoyable, all of which very naked. This was admittedly a first for me, and as an American still something to get used to. And as if I need something to boost my confidence afterwards, Karaoke followed.
Helsinki was alright. It was littered filthy with bike paths. It had damn near as much cycle infrastructure as the Netherlands, but with much less cyclists and much less rules. I stayed with a Couchsurfing host for a few days and hung out a bit with Mimi and her friends. I met up with Veera, someone I’d partied with in Asia years before. She was interested in Africa, specifically Botswana. But when I mentioned that their conservation involves a anti-poaching shoot-to-kill policy. She became so discontent with this brash, gun-toting American that she decided to leave shortly thereafter.
That weekend, my host’s family came and so I took off to the nearest national park to camp. It was actually quite far, and quite hilly. I started cursing myself and almost turned back a few times. I finally stumbled upon an established campsite there before dark.
To my huge surprise there were two other cyclists there. Two Finnish guys out bikepacking for the weekend. We shared some food and finished a bottle of rum. With the sun just barely down, they went to bed and I sat on a slanted rock and half-drunk finished my pasta at around midnight. My Africa burner phone slipped out of my pocket and continued to slide down into the lake. I kept eating. After a few seconds I thought maybe it was worth it to try and fish it out and toss it in some rice, but just then a nice sized air bubble came right up.
After I finished my pasta, I decided that the $40 phone was fish food, but SIM card was probably worth it. Since bathing was in order anyways, I waded in and tiptoed around up to my neck, naked in the twilight. I never found it and figured the rock probably must continue on to the bottom of the lake.
The next day I spent writing and riding on my other phone without connection. The Finnish bros took off to do the end of the bikepacking loop, but ended up coming back to the same spot in the evening. They were good company and I enlisted their help to finish the bottle of vodka I’d been carrying since Estonia. The next day I rode back to the city with them.
Mimi had mentioned an older iPhone that was in disuse, so I headed over to her and her boyfriend, Adrian’s, place for that evening. Traded her my speaker for a an iPhone 6 that wouldn’t turn on. And the next day, after a new battery, charging connection, and some $80, had a new (used) iPhone 6.
I hit the road, but the pin codes Mimi had given me didn’t work and I soon had a locked-out phone that needed to be connected to a computer with iTunes. I was getting close to Russia and sure as shit didn’t want to figure it out there. I pulled into the last big town before the border and tried my luck. There was a library, but they wouldn’t let me download iTunes. I found a small tech shop, with an older man, Jens working there. He had some used laptops for sale, but was understandably reluctant about letting a stranger use one and hook up his device. But, after some talking with him and then what felt like a few hours of me tinkering, I finally had a working phone.
The next step before Russia was retrieving my passport. It had been a nightmare applying for it in Poland. It was finally ready and I’d had someone I met once arrange to pick it up with a forged power of attorney letter, drop it off to my friend Magda, then she DHL’d it to an address of a Couchsurfing host near the border of Russia. If this sounds complicated, it shouldn’t. Because in reality it was much, much more complicated. But for brevity, I have simplified.
Anyways, I arrived just a bit before the DHL driver and was incredibly relieved to be reunited with my passport after a month and to have the visa that had been thus far, the hardest to get. And with that, I raced to the border as my visa had already technically started 3 days ago. Onto the motherland!
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