hey anybody fucking aware the mannequins BREATHE ???? IN ULTRAKILL ?????

would it be terrible of me to ask for BTS on can't think of a better way to end the day. if you would rather not think about william beckett then Time After Time for Here in this place, as you are meant to be (timestamp being around now, with jared having scored 30 goals)

-ash 💙

can't think of a better way to end the day (bandom, gabe/william.) this was difficult bc i have not thought abt this fic since i uploaded it to ao3 in 2010 (backdated to 2008) and much of its lore is lost to time, however i did just reread it and have an enjoyable time. i can't do any specific scenes bc i wrote it [checks notes] fourteen years ago a couple days before my twentieth birthday and remember nothing abt its construction, however i can speak broadly about the fic.

i think a lot of people might have read it and though, oh it's a love letter to european fairytales and folklore. while certainly the beats and moments and threads of the story are inspired by european fairytales, particularly the european fairytales that you read in elementary school, the heart of the story really is just that i had the world's biggest hero worship crush on airgiodslv and zero emotional vocabulary to not only name but even recognize that. like looking back at it now, i'm like oh kasper you were down SO bad, but in the time, i just thought they were the coolest person on the planet and was too afraid to do anything other than write them fic like the world's most inelegant love letters. thank christ discord didn't exist and the internet was young, i can't imagine how awful my bandom experience would have been if i'd had any kind of self-awareness.

so when i received airgiodslv in the drawn_to exchange, armed with the knowledge that they liked gabe/william and fantasy, i set about writing the most fantasy-packed thing i could. but not having read much fantasy past middle school, the story ended up really being a kind of anthology of european fairytales, the kind of gentle stock fantasy: stories about dragons, and werewolves, and leprechauns, and people who see the future and speak in riddles, and destiny. but i think it actually ended up fitting really well for the warped tour conceit: the liminal space of a terminal summer roadtrip, across two countries and through countless fly-over states and nothing cities in the middle of nowhere, filled with bands who would dissolve in only a couple years, who only existed for a brief and meteoric period of time, or who were we the kings. that space allowed for a lot of play, and when you have as rich a situation as warped tour, you can mine it quite deep. andrew mcmahon, for example; this was in the jack's mannequin era, where he and william beckett had quite a sweet friendship irl, and he is integral to william's sanity, if not to the story.

i actually quite like the fic, even though it's old. much of my past writing makes me cringe and i habitually go through and delete or private fic on ao3, but this one survived multiple purges. i did what i set out to do, and i did it well for my ability at the time and i am so far removed from my bandom years that i feel mostly just fond of the fic i whittled down on the archive. and this one, trust me, the bob fuckin morris fic, and the desolation row au, are my favorites of the bunch.

i could not if you paid me tell you what the ending of the story is, where it continues from that final fight. i don't even think i knew when i wrote it. i definitely do not know now. much like the mattdrai owl fic, the ending is simply none of my business. the ambiguous ending is what makes it though, honestly. if i'd laid out a grand finale, something that explained any part of the story, tried to wrap it up or give the characters back to normal life, it'd be a completely garbage fic. the continual escalation of fairytale weaving and tension in the gentlest and silliest way, culminating in an ending that explains nothing and suggests that this is only the beginning of a grander story, really makes this fic imho. concrete endings are overrated!!!!! ambiguous endings forever!!!!!

in conclusion, i think this is one of the greatest lines i've ever written:

"I fucking love you biblically," says Travis.

i fucking love you!!! biblically!!! AND HE'S A WEREWOLF. tbh i have few fond memories of my early twenties, but damn could i come up with a good line in my fanfictions when called upon (when harboring a deep admiration i would not recognize as hero worship and a mild crush for several years and given the opportunity to try to impress them.)

Pesterquest Thoughts: Redux 2

I accidentally deleted my original pesterquest thoughts like a goober and have to re-type it all but this time I took my time to gather my thoughts and fix some errors. English isn’t my native language and fixing grammar is a necessity.

Okeydokey let’s start off with our favorite fish girl – Feferi!

I enjoyed her routes! The only negative is that her route was plot-centric and not much on her.

What I mean is we already knew her personal view points on how Alternia works. How she wanted to implement change. Beforus!Feferi also showed us what her Alternia would look like. (Still has problems but at least public execution isn’t one of em… )

So all in all we didn’t learn anything new…except ~ The Dark Carnival.

The implications of this are astronomical. We already knew she had insight into the beyond with her luses’ connection to the horrorterrors. Feferi ends up making the dream bubbles so that all the ghosts of every timeline can survive to defeat LE. (This being hinted at her creating a safe bubble for MSPR. )

But with the Dark Carnival and her access to the temporal phenomena in the context of Pesterquest Canon, she has access to be stored in the Lotus and develop into her ultimate self.

Holy shit??? Hello??? Is anyone gunna talk about how cool that is? How badass and amazing? She has multi-universe abilities! And Karako too ~! (Their dance scene made me smile. )

 All in all, she is the typical kind-hearted princess who wants to make change in her kingdom. (Empire in this case.) I am content with her being that type of character. I love her bubbly sweet personality and her steady determined kindness to enact change.

She isn’t a forward thinker in some regards (I mean waiting thousands of sweeps to become empress? C’mon Fef.) But her ditzy-ness adds a charm to her. I love her dearly. I wish we could have seen more negative emotions from her. But positive is always a plus ~

 Okay so here comes the huge paragraphs…

I loved every Eridan route. It was true to his core character. Nothing wasn’t what we already figured when it came to his “douche” nature.

But we did find out he is mostly faking it and projecting. He over does things due to self-hatred. Hate is all he knows and he knows everyone hates him so he just…continues this charade of pompous superiority.

MSPR could clearly see that even Eridan didn’t fully believe in what he was saying. Like on the phone with Sollux? Eridan was cringing. (I was cringing! OOF! ) But the fact is; Eridan still continues this cycle of racism. He still benefits from it and doesn’t try to fight it. That isn’t cool at all. Hopefully he can change.

 Speaking of change his potential for character development was hinted at heavily. I actually think at one point it was told to our face? The pesterquest writers made sure to write in his potential for positive change in the future. They stressed at certain points he is a dumb kid who needs to change and needs to help himself out of this dark dumb hole he dug himself into. I loved that! They called him out on everything he does wrong and how he needs to better himself. And he knows! He knows he needs to change but he isn’t…ready yet…I think? This part I’m not sure on. In HS canon ending, it shows him being forgiven by Fef, Aradia and Sol in the animation so I guess this route is foreshadowing that Eridan’s future redemption. In the dream bubbles he has all the time in the world to develop and grow as a character. Ghost or not, it’s still Eridan and there is hope. Hope is his aspect after all ~! (:

 Lastly the most important thing I got out was the canon fact that Eridan is questioning/exploring his gender. We kinda all knew? At least Eridan fans did but…it really meant a lot that this was treated seriously and with respect. That Eridan showed nonbinary/trans individuals respect and that he himself was (potentially) one of them.

I myself have days where I’m sometimes one or the other so this was very meaningful to read. I adored how Eridan was like “I love wearing dresses, idgaf it makes me happy suck it”. Ugh! That sassy Eridan attitude I missed it so much ~!   

It was refreshing and…honestly relieving to see the writers show that side of him. When Eridan is passionate about something, he is so dedicated and serious about it.

Of course he’d have a floor to ceiling closet of outfits and accessories. Of course the mannequins would mimic his body type and horns exactly! Such an Ampora thing to do ~

 He also realized that him being…well…himself…would be detrimental to non-binary activists and their causes if he showed support or associated with them. They’d take a hit and no one would take them seriously.

Ugh, thank you for showing he has forward thinking and respects causes like that. He believes in them and knows the best support he can give is not showing it. (It’s a little sad though…)

 All in all I’m happy about everything. Feferi showed us the deeper lore of the story. Eridan showed layers to his character. (Like an ogre heehee) I’m pleased as a peach! Thank you pesterquest writers ~!

𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨. 𝐕𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐨. 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫.

𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗. 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚕𝚊𝚗, 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚛𝚑𝚎𝚊, 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢.

i’ve been working as a researcher at the institute for four years now, and am familiar with most of our significant contracts and projects. most reach dead ends, predictably enough, as incidents of the supernatural, such as they are - and i always emphasize there are very few genuine cases - tend to resist easy conclusions. when an investigation has gone as far as it can, it is transferred to the archives.

now, the institute was founded in 1818, which means that the archive contains almost 200 years of case files at this point. combine that with the fact that most of the institute prefers the ivory tower of pure academia to the complicated work of dealing with statements or recent experiences and you have the recipe for an impeccably organized library and an absolute mess of an archive. this isn’t necessarily a problem - modern filing and indexing systems are a real wonder, and all it would need is a half-decent archivist to keep it in order. my predecessor was apparently not that archivist.

from where I am sitting, i can see thousands of files. many spread loosely around the place, others crushed into unmarked boxes. a few have dates on them or helpful labels such as 86-91 G/H. not only that, but most of these appear to be handwritten or produced on a typewriter with no accompanying digital or audio versions of any sort. in fact, i believe the first computer to ever enter this room is the laptop that i brought in today. more importantly, it seems as though little of the actual investigations have been stored in the archives, so the only thing in most of the files are the statements themselves.

it is going to take me a long, long time to organize this mess. i’ve managed to secure the services of several researchers to assist me. I plan to digitize the files as much as possible and record audio versions, though some will have to be on tape recorder, as my attempts to get them on my laptop have met with… significant audio distortions.

that’s probably enough time spent making my excuses for the state of this place, and i suppose we have to begin somewhere.

𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚕𝚊𝚗.

𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙨: photography / texture art / tma s01e01 blurb & transcription. 

Hello! If you’re reading this, welcome to the hell that is The Seiros Archives. I’m hoping to make this as comprehensive a series translation as possible without integrating too many spoilers/telling the stories of characters that aren’t mine (save Sothis and Rhea, who seemed lore-mandatory additions). For example, I don’t have a character to fulfill [Gertrude/the past Archivist’s] position, simply because I can’t think of one and would prefer not to kill anyone off that might want to use this as an AU base. (Feel free to, btw! Just let me know/tag me in your verse thoughts, I’m so excited to read ‘em!) 

Spoilers below. Additionally: please peruse the Wiki pages with caution. There’s a trigger list for TMA episodes/general content warnings located here. 

Essentially: 

The Seiros Archives is an institution that’s existed for two centuries, currently under the jurisdiction of one Rhea, who claims to have come into control of it within the last decade or so. Obviously, this is not true. Rhea’s been alive since the founding of this institute, as she had it built order to resurrect Sothis/The Beginning/The Beholding, [her mother]. 

Sothis is both a God and not. In TMA, Gods are also known as ‘The Entities’, or The Fears. They are described, on the wiki, as such: 

The Entities are various aspects of an amorphous force of fear that exists next to reality. Their influence upon reality manifests as supernatural happenings - all supernatural phenomena in the world are simply extensions of them. These phenomena can take various forms such as people, animals, monsters, books, objects, or places.These entities do not simply feed off of our fear, rather they are our fears made manifest. “These things... these forces, they are our fear. Deep fears. Primordial. Always looking for ways to grow and spread.” Not all their actions inspire fear, they are simply a part of the process, a means to an end. (cont. This link includes a list of the Fears and should be read with caution, as there is some horror imagery, etc.)

In this verse, I’m going to conflate Sothis with The Eye, or The Ceaseless Watcher. She is an Entity of Fear manifested specifically as “being watched, exposed, followed, of having secrets known, but also the drive to know and understand, even if your discoveries might destroy you. Fear that you’re suffering for the sake of something watching.” I think her relationship with being able to control the flow of time and know results of the past and future translate well here. It’s terrifying to consider someone who Knows what might happen in the far future can directly alter it as well. 

Let’s say that Sothis’ “death” in this verse was a failed “Ritual” of The Eye. Centuries ago, Rhea attempted to bring her mother’s Entity to full power above all the others. 

Rituals are ceremonies held in order to empower The Entities. “Most entities have their own ‘ritual’, a symbolic act that, if completed, will allow the entity to merge with reality, changing the fabric of the world as it exert its will and nature upon reality. These rituals have the potential to bring other closely-tied entities along with it. It requires centuries for each Entity to build up the power needed for its ritual, and if it is stopped, it cannot try again until it rebuilds that power base. No ritual has ever succeeded” (x). 

When Rhea’s Ritual for The Eye was thwarted, the Entity lost a great sum of its garnered power. I imagine she was an Avatar of the fear, and her connection with her mother was severed to an extent. As a result, she began to construct the Seiros Institute as a means of rebuilding power for the sake of The Eye. 

Avatars are essentially vessels for spreading the influence of The Entities. “Some humans can become attached to an Entity and become empowered by it, gaining supernatural abilities related to their patron, but losing some or all of their humanity in the process. Most people fall to the powers through love or fear, though it can happen for other reasons such as debt. Avatars and agents of a power retain their agency but can become physically dependent on it, suffering withdrawal effects, including death, if they go too long without feeding the entity that empowers them” (x). 

People influenced by, or who encounter Avatars are often Marked by them, and other Entities alongside their Avatars can sense this fact.

In building The Seiros Institute, Rhea hopes to give Sothis enough power through a ritual to “merge with reality”/live again/to be able to communicate with her once more. 

The former hired Archivist stopped countless Rituals of The Entities, and was eventually killed as a result of attempting to quell Rhea’s efforts.

There are tunnels underneath the institute in canon, which I’m going to say is the equivalent of the Holy Tomb. 

Characters, once employed by The Institute, are unable to quit/be fired. Literally. This is a canon mechanic, where they can’t even say the words. 

TL;DR: This is set in a modern Fódlan. I imagine it as something of a large city interconnected with several other neighboring states, such as Almyra, Brigid, Dagda, etc. 

Are there tense relations between these places? Of course! Is The Empire probably allied with a different Entity and is aggravated that Rhea is doing what she’s doing? Very likely! Are Those Who Slither In The Dark likely allied with one as well, or are experimenting on people in the attempt to complete a Ritual? Why Not! 

The Entities create very viciously real manifestations of their respective fears, so people have supernatural encounters of all kinds. Vampires––weird lore, but yes. People being replaced by doppelgängers––Oh, Yeah. Circus people who steal voice boxes and dance around with mannequin limbs? Uh huh. Worms? Don’t forget the worms. As weird as you can think of it! 

So this modern Fódlan is rife with the eccentric and the supernatural. At the moment, The Seiros Institute is simply an academic place set on recording and understanding those supernatural occurrences! 

I’m setting Khalid as the current archivist because he seems the appropriate “linchpin” figure that Jon is in the main series, having been marked by several Entities. As the most knowledge and balance-hungry of the Three Lords, he fits the part. Obviously there’s something to be said of Byleth’s potential role as an Archivist, but the Archivist does a lot of talking, much like Khalid. He also interacts with everyone giving statements to the Archive, and I think Khalid’s canonical tendency to disarm others in exchange for secrets and stories is par for this course. 

Nonetheless, if you do want to use this AU as a base for your Byleth or any other character, please don’t feel restricted by anything! 

Whether your characters are employed by the Archive, is an Avatar for a Fear, or is simply terrified by whatever the fuck is going on here, please feel free to get in on this! Write it with me! Ask me any questions you might have and I’ll do my best to spoil myself on this wonderful podcast further so I can answer you to the best of my ability! [I’m about 75 episodes in right now, but am content to spoil myself, truly...] So please hit me up anytime. I’m really excited about this and would love to plot things out with you! 

Sola Gratia (2/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General Audiences, no warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 2/? (2452 words)

Author’s notes : Here’s part two ! I also updated part one to be a bit better, don’t hesitate to check it out ! (taglist at the end !)

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“I always thought it was a disputable likeness.”

“JE-sus FUCK-”, I spat out as I turned over, stumbling back from shock. How in the hell- I didn’t even hear a goddamn thing, which was concerning given how close he was standing behind me. An eyebrow elegantly arched at my profanity, he seemed to study my figure. I was suddenly very aware of how absolutely dreadful I probably looked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think- I didn’t mean to break in- The door-”, I stammered, somehow unable to find any decent words.

A twinkle of amusement brightened his dark eyes, and he didn’t do me the mercy of saying anything to put me out of my misery. I took a deep breath, and awkwardly held out my hand for him to shake.

“I am Eris Cetero. I got caught in the storm, and saw light. I didn’t know where else to go. I would be eternally grateful for your hospitality, sir.”

A bit dazed that I was able to align so many coherent words, I didn’t even have the time to react when the man gently took my hand in his, and planted a light kiss on my knucles.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doamna Cetero. I am Count Vlad Balaur, and welcome you into my home.”

I managed to thank him, by God knows what miracle. From the moment our eyes met, he had not moved his gaze, nor did I see him blink, now that I thought about it. A shiver ran down my spine, making me shudder.

“My, you must be freezing. Come, sit by the fire. Do you have anything dry to wear ?”

I shook my head as he led me to one of the sofas facing the hearth, a hand barely hovering over my back.

“My bag is in a sorrier state than I am”, I sheepishly admitted.

“Well, I might be able to find something for you”, he told me with a gentle smile.

“I couldn’t, really, I don’t want to impose-”, I started, but he dismissed my protest with a flick of the hand.

“Nonsense, I will have no one die of pneumonia in this house. Wait for me here, I will soon be back.”

He left the room in long paces, and I followed his tall silhouette as it disappeared into the halls. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. He did look somewhat close to the portrait, however. I looked up to study it further. The figure was certainly recognizable, tall, some form of nobility in the posture. He was a Count, after all. His hair was neatly laid in elegant black waves across his broad shoulders, so dark it was almost lost to the background. He was obviously younger in the portrait, but still carried as much poise as he did then.

The crackling of the fire almost covered the sound of the rain. A log broke in half in a flurry of embers. The flames licked at the charred wood, and I started to follow their ethereal dance in the darkness. Hugging my knees closer to my chest, I wondered if I shouldn’t drip somewhere else than the Count’s expensive-looking antique sofa. Found myself unable to move, anyway.

My curious host stepped back into the room, dragging me from my drowsiness. He had a pile of neatly folded clothes in hand, and what I assumed was a towel. He was still smiling, which, for some reason, made me a bit uneasy. I shook off the feeling. I mean, he was just an old eccentric man. A little weird at times, but who isn’t?

“I’m afraid you might find the style a bit dated, however, it’s warm and dry, which is what we are looking for, aren’t we?”

He laid the pile next to me, and took his leave, respectfully closing the door behind him. Unsure about what I should do, I still took a look at what he brought. The fabrics were soft, and felt luxurious. Dated indeed. A long wool skirt I just could have worn as a poncho, a thin linen shirt closed by a series of pearl buttons, and a jacket, matching the skirt both in style and warmth. after a sigh, I decided to peel my own clothing off my body. Cold water ran down my back as I slipped my shirt over my shoulders. I decided to keep my underwear, for legitimate and obvious reasons, and put on the outfit the count prepared for me. He even had thrown in a pair of socks and boots, which, curiously, were exactly my size. As I stood up and patted down the skirt, I caught my reflection in a window. There, I was ready to leave for the suffragette rally, whilst my husband slaves away at the vintage car factory. I spun around, and the skirt flared in a very satisfactory manner.

“Are you dressed ? May I come in ?”

The sudden knock on the door nearly made me lose my footing. I caught myself on the back of the sofa, and approved the request. The Count entered, pushing the door with his foot as the carried a wodden tray, holding a steaming kettle and delicate cups. He laid it on a small side table, and turned back towards me, clasping his hands together.

“Aren’t you feeling a tad better now ?”

“Much better, thank you. If I may ask, out of curiosity, where does this dress come from? It’s not very often people have that sort of clothing at home.”

“Well”, he started as he poured tea into a cup. “It is a family home, and I must admit I do not know everyone who ever lived here. It may have been my grandmother’s, or her mother’s.”

He invited me to sit, and handed me a cup, which I accepted gladly. It had a subtle, comforting cinnamon aroma The warmth of the cup was doing wonders for my almost purple hands, slowly regaining a human-like color.

“Eris…”, the Count enunciated, slightly rolling the ‘r’, almost to himself. “What an unusual name. You must have terribly interesting parents.”

“Oh, far worse. Historians”, I scoffed.

“Greek, dare I venture ?”

“Yes. They’re kind fo the reason I am here right now, in a way.”

“Please, indulge an old man.”

He seemed genuinely interested. I guess living in a mountain surrounded by huge “KEEP OUT” signs was bound to make anyone feel starved for any distraction. It was a bit of a challenge not sounding demented as I told him about my family. Strict, absent parents, very demanding concerning school work, insisting on me keeping up with their research. As they were interested in the Classical Greek world, I shifted my interest to the Balkans, which was shocking enough, and became almost disowning when I started a masters in medieval studies. I became a bit estranged to them after that terrible offense.

“Do you still study that field ?”

“Well”, I sighed. “I should hope so. I’m in my second year of doctorate on ‘Archaeological evidence for the conflictual relationships of Balkanic regions and the Ottoman Empire during the 15th century AD’.”

It had him laughing softly.

“That sound like quite some work”, he commented, a strange glimmer in his eye.

“It is. That’s why I had to take a break, coming here. I told myself I’d take advantage of it and work, maybe visit Targoviste. Turns out, I’d rather risk death by the mighty elements than do that.”

I tried to smile, but the weight in my chest started to come back. It lifted while I was running high on adrenaline, trying to escape my doom during the storm, but now that I was out of danger, it sure as hell was back. The Count had a strange look on his face, almost as he was trying to read my mind through my eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“You must be tired, after such an eventful day”, he softly told me. “Let’s prepare a guest room, shall we?”

He was right, by all accounts. I took a deep breath, and handed him my empty cup as he held out his hand for it. His fingers brushed against mine, just a second, yet long enough that it didn’t feel unintentional. He did nothing of it, and placed the cups back on the tray, before escorting me into the halls. As we left, he took hold of a small candelabra and had it lit over the fire.

We made our way through the lenghthy corridors, and I started undertanding just how huge the place was. Confusing. Labyrinthic, almost. I wondered how I would ever find my way without breadcrumbs, or a trusty ball of yarn. I started taking mental notes of some reference points. A weird cat in a painting here, a knight fighting a giant snail in the corner of a tapestry there, that sort of thing.

“Are you also interested in art, Lady Cetero ?”, the Count asked, semingly noticing my interest.

“A little. I’m afraid I connect better with pieces of armor and war apparatus in general, though. A bit of an influence from my thesis, I think”, I admitted.

“Ah, in this case, I have something I am fairly certain you will enjoy”, he announced, before taking a right into another corridor.

We passed a few doors, and stopped in front of a slightly larger one. He slipped a large iron ring out of his jacket’s pocket, holding dozens of different keys, some oranate, some rougher. Without much hesitation, which was impressive considering the sheer ammount of choice he had, he unlocked the door, and pushed it open, gallantly leaving me to enter.

The room was dark, yest I discerned a faint glimmer across the walls. As the Count stepped in, and lit torches on the walls, I almost couldn’t contain a squeal of excitement. On the wall opposite the door, a suit of armor was displayed on a mannequin. Intricately worked in gilted vegetal arabesque, the darkened iron still suffered indents and scrapes, and the golden sheen had flaked in some places. I ventured that whoever had worn this had very little understanding of the crime it was to ever put such incredible crafstmanship at risk on the battlefield. It was very reminiscent of the kind of battle gear I had studied in my first year, but I never saw a complete one, least of all in such an incredible state of conservation. The suit was surrounded by weapons of the same make, still bright and shiny, the incrustations of stones and pearls seeming almost alive in the flickering light of the flames. The other walls were all covered in an almost artistic display of a large variety of other weapons, which it seemed spanned across centuries and all the surrounding regions of the Balkans.

“This is...Absolutely incredible”, I managed to breathe out. “How did you come to have such a collection ? Even the museum in Bucharest doesn’t compete !”

“I am very interested in history, you see. Some of the pieces here were there before I was born”, he told me, stepping closer to the central figure of the room. “This armor has been in my family for generations.”

He looked somewhat nostalgic, eyes drifting along the glistening metal. He stood tall, and I couldn’t help but picture him in it, his silver hair back to the dark waves of his youth, sword in hand, covered in blood and dust, leading his men into battle against roaring, bloodthirsty waves of ennemies.

“I would love to take a better look at them tomorrow, if you don’t mind”, I asked, trying not to look so eager as I felt.

“It would be my pleasure, however, I will have to take most of the day to attend some... Urgent matters.”

I nodded along, and we left the room, me with a last longing look as the Count extinguished the torches, and locked the door. He then led me along a stone staircase, set in what I assumed to ba a small tower, as I glanced outside through the narrow windows. On the second story, the floors was made of dark wood, which looked a bit dull. I figured if he lived alone, he didn’t have much time to varnish the whole castle. As we walked, the boards creaked in a sinister way, that reverberated through the halls. I couldn’t help but shudder, and though I head a soft laughter from the Count, walking ahead of me.

He stopped to open a door, and entered before I did. It was a fairly large room, with a high ceiling, supported by large wodden beams. An iron chandelier hanged at Mid-height, which was still half a dozen feet above my head. A large fireplace was carved into the wall, which my host had somehow lit as I studied the rest of the room. Behind wooden pannels, a large canopy bed was set near one of the three windows that pierced the wall, opening to a view of the wind-swept valley.

The Count carefully removed the large bedspread, which had probably been collecting dust for a while, revealing divinely comfortable-looking covers and fluffy pillows. To be fair, I was so exhausted I would have slept on the floor with no second thought, had that been necessary.

“Make yourself at home. You will probably find something to change in the wardrobe, if you want. I will leave you this for tomorrow, should you wish to explore”, he told me as pulled the key-ring out of his pocket, and laid it on a large desk. “Have a restful night, Lady Cetero.”

Bowing his head slightly, he exited the room, leaving me alone if it weren’t for the presence still lingering inside. I figured there was a slight possibility that I really were deep into hypothermia, and hallucinating, or, more likely yet, that he was a ghost. I slipped into a nightgown, still feeling a bit like a gothic novel heroine. I wondered a second how I could ever find sleep with all the wonder, excitement and slight feeling of dread that filled my mind. However, as soon as I let the heavy blankets over me, sinking into the matress, everything went quiet, the faint sound of the rain and rumbling thunder slowly lulling me to sleep.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock

Don’t hesitate to ask if you wanna be tagged !

lord please save me from myself. here’s another part for anyone who actually reads it, but i don’t think many people do owell.

Rating: this is definitely M lmfao

Word Count: 3,423

Jimin’s gaze wanders down Jungkook’s frame more and laughs. “Looks like you enjoyed that,” he chimes.

Even though he’s pretty sure what happened he still is embarrassed to look down. Of course when he does, a blush flushes hotly on him. He was definitely hard, it was definitely obvious even through his pants and he tries his best to cross his legs and lean over so Jimin can’t see it. The thing is he leans farther into Jimin as he does it, brushing up against his collar bone and it really doesn’t help the situation much so he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think about ugly nuns.

“I can help,” Jimin says, a voice soft and barely audible.

Right, so the thought of Jimin’s lips around his cock is something Jungkook would of course very much yes like to see but there’s a prickling bit of his conscience that says abso-fucking-lutely not. He wills himself to look at Jimin’s face, which is still positively beaming and irresistible but Jungkook has to tell himself that if kissing fish man had this much effect, he can’t imagine what getting blown by him would feel like. Fucking fantastic, he thinks, but scoots himself away from Jimin, shaking his head.

“I… I can’t,” Jungkook mumbles.

Jimin cocks his head in confusion. “Why not? We’re already bound to each other, might as well make the best of it.”

Jungkook’s head shoots up. “Wait, what? Bound together?” He feels queasy again.

“Yes,” Jimin explains softly, “It’s part of the deal. Once we kiss we’re tied to each other until…” Jimin trails off, eyes wandering to the ceiling.

Jungkook is afraid to ask, but he still does. “Until?”

Jimin smiles without looking down, and once he does he just shakes his head softly. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

“I feel like I am obligated to worry about it,” Jungkook insists, standing. He brushes off his knees, thankful that his erection has somewhat abated. 

Jimin just lifts himself out of the tub, ignoring the fact that he’s getting water absolutely everywhere. He peels off his shirt (Jungkook looks away for some reason) and it makes the most unsatisfying slap when it hits the floor. For a fish Jimin was not very grateful, Jungkook thinks. He finally looks back to Jimin, the very much shirtless Jimin, and tries again to think of ugly nuns.

“I liked those pants,” Jungkook says instead, now realising that in the process of Jimin getting a tail he’s ripped Jungkook’s joggers. 

He lets Jimin get dried off and in different clothes on his own, much preferring himself to sit on his couch and ponder how the hell he got in this mess. Jimin had said they were bound together, tied together and Jungkook is trying to think of all the possible things that could mean. Was it like marriage, with the death do us part bullshit? Jungkook never thought about marriage, and having to be with a fish his whole life makes him want to puke. It could also be that Jungkook was now somehow spiritually attached to Jimin, like if he walks too far he’ll collapse. He’s trying to remember all the siren lore from the past when his phone buzzes.

He glances down, and it’s from the group text. Jin is asking if everyone wants wants to the mall. The idea makes Jungkook laugh just because Jin is trying to defend himself by saying he needs a new tie. Everyone knew he liked to go all out with fashion—the weirder it was the more Jin wanted to wear it. Everyone says they’re good to go on it, and finally they ask Jungkook.

He looks to his bedroom where he can see the shadow of Jimin as he pulls on a shirt. There’s not much fish man could do while he was gone, right? His apartment complex wasn’t much to look at, and there wasn’t even a gym or a pool or anything. He’s snickering at the thought of the pool though. Some little kid seeing a mermaid. What a sight.

Jimin saunters in as Jungkook says, “I’m going out for a bit.”

“Oh?” Jimin says, playing with the strings of the hoodie he threw on. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Of course Jimin would try to make Jungkook be a good little boy and never leave his side. “And why not?” He asks, somewhat angrily. “I don’t need to be here twenty-four seven with you.”

Through pursed lips Jimin still manages to have an unreadable expression. “I suppose,” he says and shrugs. “Fine, then. I’ll just try to figure out these weird human things again while you’re out.”

Again. The word pierces Jungkook’s mind. As he types that he’ll be on his way he thinks that Jimin is still very much a stranger. He could come back to arsenic filled tea or rat poison steak. He has no idea how Jimin handles stress, handles anger, and judging from the tub incident he’s not very tidy. But that was just it, was Jimin going to suddenly live with Jungkook? That would be ridiculous in practice, Jungkook reasons with himself. Things just don’t happen that way.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Jungkook mumbles as he leaves, feeling somewhat uneasy now.

If at first he was apprehensive about going, he instantly smiles when Yoongi hands him a coffee. “Just how you like it,” he says, winking. 

And it really is. It’s the perfect creamy texture and not too sweet. Jungkook wasn’t very hard to please, he thinks, all he wants is food and some nice drinks. It wasn’t that complicated. He’s delicately sipping at his drink when they all sit at a table in the food court.

“This is the shirt I want,” Jin tells everyone, extending his phone out for everyone to see. Jungkook nearly spits out his coffee from laughing at the image. It’s the most hideous pink checkered shirt with an embroidered pocket that has some kind of bird on it.

“Looks like something my grandma would wear,” Taehyung muses, dramatically sipping his iced coffee. Jin’s expression falters and he frowns. 

The most mature out of them, Namjoon, chimes in by patting Jin’s shoulders. “Don’t let Mr. Gucci here tell you what to wear,” he says, but still laughs.

Taehyung looks offended. “Just because I prefer name brands doesn’t make me snobby.”

Namjoon shrugs, “Your words, bro.”

Hoseok sputters as he laughs, wiping away some stray coffee that got on his face. “I think the shirt looks fine,” he says, “Jin could definitely rock it.”

“It looks like shit,” Yoongi cuts in, tapping absentmindedly on his phone.

They bicker over the shirt that the store might not even have as everyone finishes their coffee. Jungkook stays quiet, and judging by the glances Hoseok keeps giving him, it’s unusual. Despite the three shots of espresso he’s just conquered, Jungkook feels dizzy. He tries to smile at Hoseok as they get up, but he still manages to fall a bit. Taehyung catches him just before he goes tumbling onto the floor.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks, voice full of concern. 

No, Jungkook thinks, but just nods instead. “Yeah, just stood up too fast. I’m alright.”

Taehyung still holds his hand hovering over Jungkook’s lower back as they walk. Jin and Namjoon are having a heated conversation about something, that’s for sure, but Jungkook can’t make out the words. It stays like that the whole time they wander, Jungkook falling slightly every now and again. He gets spurts of nausea where he thinks he’s going to puke, but does his best to hide it from everyone. They were all laughing and having fun, and Jungkook wasn’t going to let a headache get in the way of it.

Surprisingly enough, they find Jin’s hideous shirt. “It’s even more ugly up close,” Yoongi says. 

Jin still grabs it off the hanger. “Whatever,” he says, trudging off in the direction of the fitting rooms. “At least I don’t go out looking like a hobo.”

Yoongi does his best to look hurt. “Oh, that’s low,” he pouts. To be fair, he did always wear an oversized hoodie with sweatpants and his beanie. But that was just how Yoongi was, it suited him. Any time he dressed up it was strange, even though he looked amazing each time. 

“Jungkook, c’mere,” Hoseok calls. Jungkook turns to where he and Taehyung are huddled, crowded around a mannequin wearing a particularly slim suit. As he saunters over Hoseok says, “You should try this on.”

Jungkook scoffs. “I can’t afford it,” he says.

“So?” Taehyung interrupts, already no doubt looking for Jungkook’s size. “It’s still fun.”

Knowing this was a battle Jungkook was just not going to win, he sighs and agrees to try the suit on. It’s a lovely black, and Taehyung has paired it with a steel coloured grey button down and royal purple tie. Jungkook tries his best to focus on the excitement Taehyung and Hoseok seem to have for him instead of the persisting nausea that’s been getting worse. He doesn’t want them to worry, and shuts the fitting room door feeling like he was about to ruin the suit.

His vision blurs as he removes his clothes. He’s shaking and feels clammy, but he just pushes through. It must be the coffee, he thinks, must have been something he ate. With shaking hands he shrugs the suit jacket on, stabilising himself with a pressed forehead on the mirror. He stands there long enough to be a cause of concern, judging by how Hosek is calling his name. He breathes in. He can do this.

“How do I look?” He asks the two of them, trying his best to a catwalk type movement. He ignores the persistent piercing in his head.

Taehyung whistles. “Like a damn snack,” he says, coming over to pat down any wrinkles Jungkook made when he messily out it on.

“I think you should get it,” Hosek says, perching on a stool he must have dragged over.

“With what money?” Jungkook laughs, wiping his brow. “I can hardly afford rent anymore.”

He’s pretty sure the two of them bicker over the price and how someone needs a “glucose guardian” but it all feels so far away. He mumbles that’s he’s going to change back into his usual clothes, but doesn’t even register if he was heard. All he can see is through tunnel vision, the edges of his vision clouded by a fog. Breathing becomes harder with each heave, and he’s pretty sure he’s lost all feeling in his toes. He trips on something, he doesn’t even know what, and he can feel inertia plummeting him down. 

He hits the floor hard, feeling the piercing sensation reverberate off his skull. He hears muffled footsteps and loud voices from who he assume is Hosek and Taehyung. He wants to tell them he’s fine, he tries to stand, but falls again. Only this time, a soft hand is in his line of vision, catching his wrist and touching his chin.

“You look nice,” a familiar soft voice says. Jungkook barely has to look up to know it’s Jimin. 

“J-Jimin?” He whispers, unsure his voice is even his own.

Jimin brings him close, Jungkook now realising he is sitting on the floor. Jimin brings his head to rest in his lap as he hums, running delicate fingers through his hair. “It’s alright now,” he says, “You’ll be fine in just a moment.”

And he really is. Not even a minute passes by before the nausea dissipates and his vision becomes clear. He lifts his head off Jimin’s lap, looking directly into his eyes that have the same familiar glow when they first locked gazes in the ocean. He forgot how beautiful the image was, a golden hue surrounded by pastel pink hair. He can’t help but reach out, rub a thumb under Jimin’s eye, and just bask in the brilliance.

“As much as I would love to continue this,” Jimin starts; he looks past Jungkook, the glow in his eyes gone, “But I think you have some explaining to do.”

Jungkook doesn’t even have to turn around to know exactly what he means. He still does, and sees the five of his friends gawking at him. The only one who doesn’t look as surprised is Yoongi, but he furrows his brows all the same. Jungkook swallows. The cousin theory is out the window and he has nothing better. He tries his best to not show the panic settling in.

“Uh,” Jungkook says awkwardly. He might as well come clean, at least as clean as he could get without sounding insane. “So this is Jimin,” he continues, “He’s uh. Staying with me for a bit.”

Hoseok steps forward first, extending a hand down towards Jimin with what Jungkook hopes is a genuine smile. “Hello,” he simply says, “Nice to find out that Jungkook is branching out.”

Jimin slowly raises the hand that was combing through Jungkook’s hair and shakes Hosek’s hand. “Of course,” he says somewhat quietly.

Jungkook realises he is still in fact cuddled onto Jimin’s map and lifts himself up as gracefully as possible. Turns out it isn’t graceful at all, seeing as he stumbles enough for Hoseok to have to catch him. He feels a persistent need to vomit crawling up his throat but does his best to ignore it. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

“So how did you two meet?” Namjoon asks as Jimin stands, the latter brushing dust of his pants. Jungkook pauses for just too long for the rest of them to become suspicious, but for once Jimin actually has the upper hand. 

“I actually just stumbled into him at a cafe,” Jimin lies flawlessly, “I told him I was going to attend school here soon and I didn’t have anywhere to stay. He offered to let me stay at his apartment for a few nights before I could figure things out, and I said yes.” 

Yoongi raises his brows further and Jungkook is grateful he just isn’t saying a goddamn thing. The lie is enough for the others who don’t really know what happened, and they just sort of shuffle back out into the store. Yoongi stays behind longer, glaring daggers at both Jungkook and Jimin. Once the rest are out of earshot Yoongi finally speaks.

“And why exactly did you lie?” He almost seethes.

Jungkook has nothing to say, he just stares with an exhausted expression. “Because,” Jimin cuts in, stepping between Jungkook and Yoongi, “I highly doubt your friends would appreciate their youngest friend picking up naked men from beaches.”

He has a point, so much that Yoongi rolls his eyes but Jungkook knows he agrees. “So why tell me?” He genuinely asks. “I thought you and Taehyung were a lot closer.”

Sighing, Jungkook finally decides he should say something. “I guess you were the first person to show up,” he explains, “And I knew you would give things to me straight.”

Yoongi lightly smacks the side of Jungkook’s head, ignoring the glare Jimin gives him. “You’re damn right,” he replies, “And if I was any better I would drag Jimin to the curb and tell you to get your head checked out.”

The statement is well founded, if Jungkook was being honest. He doesn’t really know what compelled him to make such rash decisions. Sure, he would do stupid things and go over the top, but nothing quite like this. Jin was right, Jimin could be out to kill Jungkook for all he knows, and he just let him in his living space. It was enough for Jungkook to get dizzy again, and insists he has to get out of the suit before the store employees make him buy it.

Of course Jimin tries to follow Jungkook into the fitting room despite Jungkook insisting he was fine. Jimin is stubborn though, and argues that he needs to be close to Jungkook to make sure he wasn’t going to fall again. Jungkook gives up arguing over it, knows Jimin will just do what he wants anyways, and clicks the door shut, absolutely exhausted.

Jimin starts taking off Jungkook jacket which rockets him back into real time, swinging around and panicking at someone trying to undress him. “W-What are you doing?” He yelps. Jimin sighs.

“Trying to help you,” he says. “You’re still a bit uneven from the fall.”

He’s right, Jungkook still feels like he could pass out. He’s reminded he has no idea why it happened, and no idea why Jimin fluttering in out of no where helped. As tries to ask just those things Jimin’s hand grabs the back of Jungkook’s neck and pulls him down so that their lips are almost touching. Jimin uses his other hand to slide it up Jungkook’s cheek, rubbing a thumb under his eye. His expression is intoxicating and his eyes are that brilliant gold again. Jungkook tries to resist and he’s not sure why, but every time he moves even slightly Jimin presses himself harder against Jungkook, so now he can feel the heat of Jimin all over him. He’s getting dizzy again, but certainly not from the same thing before.

Jimin frees the one hand touching Jungkook’s face to tug at his tie, smiling like the devil as he licks his lips and starts to untie it. Jungkook just watches him do it, watches him slide it off as Jungkook removes his jacket himself. Jimin barely has time to turn around and smile before Jungkook has pulled him in close.

“I don’t understand what you do to me,” he says honestly, voice hoarse. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

Jimin smiles, eyes still not losing their glow. In hindsight Jungkook should probably have let him answer but he doesn’t. He leans down to kiss Jimin’s neck, sucking and biting on the skin. The noise of surprise and arousal that Jimin gives him is intoxicating, and certainly not unnoticed by his cock. He kisses harder, bites harder, and just in all is trying to get Jimin just as desperate as he is. He sucks on Jimin’s neck particularly hard full well knowing a mark will be there when he goes to actually kiss Jimin’s lips. He grabs a fistful of Jimin’s hair as he does, making the kiss messy and sloppy but Jesus it feels so good.

He sucks on the bottom of Jimin’s lips, between when he parts them to close again. He finds his other hand trailing down Jimin’s stomach, ending at where he has a belt looped into Jungkook’s pants. For some reason the idea of Jimin dressing himself with Jungkook’s clothes makes him even dizzier, and he tugs hardly at the seam. He breaks the kiss, yanks Jimin’s head back (which Jimin just responds with the filthiest of noises) and kisses and licks the other side of his neck. 

“J-Jungkook,” Jimin tries to say, “Is now the best time?” He laughs, but Jungkook just ignores him.

He ignores him so much that he can barely hear him. He can barely tell anything else exists around him when he finds himself saying, “Please suck me.”

Much to his surprise Jimin just smiles, showing those beautiful canines. Jungkook can see some hesitation, but Jimin obeys anyway, unbuttoning Jungkook’s shirt slowly. It’s tantalising enough that Jungkook helps, an intense heat flooding his head and erection. He watches in complete infatuation as Jimin slowly gets to his knees, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook the whole time. He makes it down to where Jungkook’s happy trail peeks above his pant line and follows it down with a lick. Shuddering Jungkook lets himself push back a stray hair on Jimin and breathes out a hard breath he wasn’t sure he was holding.

Jimin’s fingers graze over Jungkook’s erection and Jungkook involuntarily bucks his hips into the touch. Plump lips kiss it through the cloth as his pants get unbuttoned, and Jimin is licking his pubic area, pulling down Jungkook’s pants, when there is a loud knock on the door.

“Umm, do you need any help?” An employee sweetly but hesitantly asks.

Jungkook pushes Jimin off him, completely overridden with panic. “N-No,” he says, “Sorry, I will be out soon.” He hears the girl mumble something, and no doubt she knew exactly what they were doing.

And yes, Jungkook thinks to himself, he definitely needs help, only there’s no one out there that could give him any.

NEW - A nice game for cute children.

Before I begin: This review is more professional than my last (Elsewhere) as I feel NEW deserves my respect and consideration more than Elsewhere ever has. Now then, I shall review NEW.

By the way, yes, I am back. I will work on more reviews. But I won’t follow a schedule that is easy to understand in any vague sense, and I’ll just write reviews about what interests me at the minute. (Quick after-post edit to add tags here.)

                                    [ S P O I L E R S   F O R   N E W ]

                             [ P L A Y  N E W  I F  Y O U  H A V E N ‘ T ]

Part One: Foreword

Oh boy, a new form of padding. Now then, to preface this, I will warn you that I do enjoy NEW, and that I don’t wish its creator ill will, I afford them all proper respect, and I’m not going to talk about Mr. Evan Vasejeff (The creator of NEW).

Part Two: Plot Synopsis

The Batter is back, this time as a Prophet instead of a savior. This time, he has the goal of rendering all the Zones ‘safe’ instead of ‘pure’.

Zone 0 introduces us to Valerie, who is written better than HOME. I’ll write further about him in the Characters section. After a few puzzles, we head off to Zone 1.

Zone 1 is mostly similar to OFF, except Dedan is missing and replaced by a overweight idiotic chef. This chef (named Gabriel) is introduced to be malevolent and idiotic from his first appearance, all the way to his last, where you render him into a bloody corpse.

Zone 2 turned into a more pathetic hellscape than usual, with the nice aesthetic addition of a Japhet corpse on the roof. By the way, the Mall looks beautiful awful now. The game introduces a red herring (Oedipus, a little girl whom The Batter ends up beating to hell and back) before you meet the final villain, Angela, an insane spirit infesting a mannequin that The Batter summarily destroys.

Zone 3 is this time played backwards, with The Batter going from Area 4 to a mythical Area 0. All the while, you are pestered by Sonovan, an odd-talking priest and general narcissist, who eventually fights The Batter, is beaten, quickly jacks up Valerie (just play the game if you want to understand this better), then gets killed by The Batter, who mercy-kills Valerie at his own request. You then go and defeat Gazmel, who is, in his own words, Satan.

Zone 4 (or, The Echelon) is a miserable hellscape that is actually just a part of The Room, maybe. You meet ‘Vincent “Ivius” Corsacoff the 2nd’, who I shall permanently refer to as ‘Ivius’, as his actual name is incredibly long and annoying. So you head onto a roof, where you talk to Ivius, going on to fight him, before inevitably winning, and going to The Room itself.

Of course, The Room is a strange mindnumb I won’t be going into too much, as I feel like getting this poor-quality plot synopsis over with.

Part 3: Characters

The Batter - As I mentioned, he’s a prophet instead of purifier. His goal is to make the zones ‘safe’ instead of ‘pure’, and he seems to be more mellowed out now. On occasion, he interrupts himself before carrying on with a thought (ie. he comments upon Oedipus’ mention of comics named ‘Batteur and Boxxer’ by stating “What kind of trite do you read? "Panic in Ballvile" is obviously-” before cutting himself short and carrying on the dialogue.) and generally, The Batter seems altogether more.. human than before. Other than that, he is mostly the same character as before, and still a bat-wielding protagonist.

Valerie - The cat we (don’t really) know from OFF. I can state something about NEW’s characterization of Valerie: It was executed very well! Mortis Ghost has stated that Valerie was more soft-spoken and shy than The Judge, and NEW does indeed follow through with Mortis Ghost’s stated character of Valerie. He comes across as a shy, introverted, socially awkward cat, and that altogether works very well for him. He’s also the new Guardian of Zone 0.

Zacharie - I’ll say more in the Merchants category.

The Judge - Our favorite, eloquent cat! .. except, he’s taken Hugo’s place. Also, unlike Hugo, he’s not that nice. Or innocent, really. He’s become corrupt with absolute power over the world, and as such, has used his raw powers of creation to muck about, creating demonic feline entities known as Jury, which replace Secretaries in NEW. Of course, the implications of this are quite large in scope, and will take up a portion of the Lore section.

Part 4: Music

I will state this immediately: This fangame has some incredible tracks. These include: My personal favorite, Awesome Miniboss, Crying Girls Part 1-2 (which are actually samples of Is Dancing Till Her Head Explodes, from Alias Conrad Coldwood’s album Crying Girls), Dented Helmets on TV, Stay in in Stay (A remix of Stay In Your Coma), and Funky Bucket of Nasty Noises, among plenty others. Its soundtrack complements the game, and it’d be an incredible mistake to play it without listening to its excellent tracks. One warning for headphone users though: the miss sound is awful, and it’s rather loud in comparison to the other sounds.

Part 5: Basic Enemies

The enemies in this game are well-designed, with inventive competence names and lovely art. They’re well-made, and this fangame clearly had a lot of care put into it. However, I have never had to grind so much in my life. The enemies are rather harsh, and you will suffer. Before anyone tosses an ‘git gud’ in my face, I did. After a while, The Batter will be so high-leveled that bosses fall in a heartbeat against his bat’s blows and his add-on’s.. cuts(?). Now then, on to the next section.

Part 6: Merchants

I think everyone reading this knows of my distaste, my violent hatred of fangames using Zacharie as a merchant? So, who is the merchant of NEW?

.. this guy. Zacharie. But, just look at his face. Look at that face. I.. I can’t be mad. To be honest, I found this incredibly amusing. I simply cannot be mad. His face.. It’s absolutely hilarious. Zacharie is absolutely ridiculous in this fangame, and I cannot be as vitriolic as usual. Sorry.

Carrying on, I almost feel like NEW mocks Zacharie in a way; outside the mall, there are two statues of Zacharie with his mask as how it originally looked. What does The Batter have to say about this? “A statue of Zacharie when he looked less pathetic.” All throughout the game, The Batter insults Zacharie. Here’s another line of this, as an example: “I'm tired of this wild goose chase. I've went through one too many things. One of those horrific things being friends with Zacharie.” Finally, Zacharie repainted the mall an awful pink color, which The Batter is clearly disgusted by, including making a comment about Zacharie having poor taste.

Altogether, I feel like NEW uses Zacharie in a way that I can’t be mad at.

Part 7: Lore

NEW takes place after the events of OFF. The Batter returns, and fights 4 Purifiers instead of 4 Guardians, and it seems the original 3 are dead. The world is a corrupted shade of a corrupted world; it is broken to the point of being unable to be fixed. One actually gets the sense that The Batter is righting wrongs, and fixing the world.

But, let’s talk about the position Hugo filled, and that The Judge fills. In the events of NEW, The Batter is looking for The Judge as he makes the Zones ‘safe’. It turns out The Judge has taken up the mantle of Creator and God, and has become corrupted by his new-found power. Which implies quite a few.. unpleasant ideas. If the power Hugo had can corrupt someone with as pure intentions as The Judge, was Hugo also corrupt? If NEW’s idea of how the next Creator takes power (basically, how The Judge offs The Batter) is correct, does that mean any number of individuals could become Creators in their own right, merely by killing The Batter at the apex of his quest?

But let us leave behind these thoughts, and carry on; we are nearly at the end, and I have more reviews to do.

Part 8: Does This Game Fit In With OFF?

Yes. I hold NEW as my personal pick for an unofficial OFF sequel, and I am proud in that. Its lore doesn’t contradict OFF’s; in fact, it follows the lore as closely as possible, and its lore, whilst small, is worthwhile to notice and consider. I believe that it adds on to OFF’s weird world.

Part 9: Conclusion

I hold this fangame in high esteem. I view it as an example of what one person, with naught but a computer and a dream, can achieve. In the end, though, I suppose NEW asks us a question. A very important one, and one I’ll state directly.

Would you like to start a new game?

In Your Hands - ch 6

"We are going to need a boat.  There is no way anyone is getting me out there on those ice floes."

Serana laughed quietly; Ralsten stood beside her in the howling wind, clad in his steel plate armor with a buckler strapped to an arm, his maces on his belt, and the crossbow across his back just above the heavy pack he carried.  

"I'm not carrying nearly so much as you are and even I don't want to walk out there."

It was bitterly cold and the ice nearest the shore was solid enough to hold his weight -- at least a few feet out from the safety of the shore, anyway.  Ralsten had no intention of testing its strength in water deep enough to possibly drown him, and even if it was shallow enough to walk out of getting drenched in ice cold water in this weather would kill just him just as quickly as drowning would. ((Continued below cut))

He'd offered Serana extra clothing before they'd left Solitude and she'd declined, explaining how vampires didn't feel the cold like mortals did.  She was still in her dark red and black armor, with the only change being she'd selected one of the spare blades hanging on the wall near the mannequins -- the blade was dwarven in make and shimmered with a spell that had been present before Ralsten had found the weapon. The woman had given it a few experimental swings and decided to take it along with keeping the small dagger belted at her waist; the elf hadn't minded (truthfully he had a lot more armor and weapons than any one man would need) and the following morning they'd collected his armguards and departed.

And now, finally, they were here, standing on the shoreline near Winterhold; when they'd arrived at the College there were only a handful of mages who recognized Ralsten, and only one of them had been willing to direct them to the library and to Urag gro-Shub, an orsimer mage and librarian.

At first the orc had laughed at their inquiry on Elder Scrolls but Ralsten quickly convinced him that their task was rather urgent, and Urag had eventually brought them just two books.  Serana had taken one and Ralsten the other, and they'd retreated to a quiet corner to look the books over -- Ralsten quickly discovered his book made absolutely no sense and was little more than the ravings of a madman, and the one Serana held contradicted itself and wasn't exactly concise, accurate, or useful.

Urag had then explained that the author of the ridiculous, and ridiculously confusing, book Ralsten had was one Septimus Signus, but that the man had left the College some time ago.

"All I know is he went somewhere up north, to the ice fields," Urag had said.  "Said he found some old dwemer artifact, but...well, that was years ago.  Haven't heard from him since."

"He's not...dead, is he?" Serana had asked.

"Oh no.  I hope not.  But even I haven't seen him in years and we were close.  He became obsessed with the Dwemer...  He's never come back and I don't know where in the ice fields he might be."

They'd thanked the orc and left, and now...

"Let's check the shoreline; we're bound to find a boat somewhere.   This Septimus had to get out there somehow and I doubt he just walked."

Ralsten nodded to her and trudged along behind her in the snow.   Winterhold was well out of sight when they found an old fishing hut and an even older Khajiit inside it; a stack of coins was all it took to convince the old fisherman to take them out into the fields, and Ralsten and the Khajiit traded off rowing and breaking apart the ice ahead of them while Serana kept a look out.

"Wait - look there.  I see a light," she called out finally.  The khajiit moved to the fore and peered ahead of them, balanced on the boat's rail beside her.  "It's to the northeast."

"Yes - this one sees a light on the ice."  The khajiit nudged Ralsten with a foot and with a puff and a grunt the elf worked the oars to adjust their course.

Their boat was soon bumping up against an iceberg and in the light from their lanterns they could see a door of haphazardly nailed together boards - with huge gaps between the planks - that was nestled in a crevice in the ice.  The Khajiit had politely but firmly refused to accompany them inside and hunkered down in the boat to wait for them to return;  Ralsten and Serana climbed from the boat and carefully picked their way over to the door -- a hard knock received no answer or acknowledgement so Serana stood back as Ralsten seized the door and yanked it toward them.  Ice that had held the door closed broke free and shattered on the ground at their feet and the door swung open on rickety hinges, revealing the top of a wooden ladder just beyond it.

Ralsten went down first (if only to test its strength - if it could hold his weight then Serana would have nothing to worry about) and together they crept in toward a large, circular cavern in the ice, inching their way down a ramp that was part stone, part ice, and rather slick.

Below them there was a giant dwemer...thing.  It was a kind of metal cube - bronze in coloration, with green, circular glass lens-looking things; a fire burned in an open pit with a bedroll and, of all things, a wooden bookshelf and a wardrobe, arranged near its warmth.

And, pacing back and forth in front of the cube, was what could only be the missing Septimus Signus.

"Hello?" Ralsten called out.

The man stopped his pacing and turned to peer up at them.  "Ah, ah, yes.  When the top level was built, no more could be placed.  It was, and is, the maximal apex."

"...was that an invitation to come in?" Serana wondered aloud, voice quiet -- Ralsten had to pause a moment to keep from laughing.

"Are you Septimus Signus?"

"The ice entombs the heart.  The bane of Kagrenac and Dagoth Ur.  To harness it is to know.  The fundaments.  The Dwemer lockbox hides it from me.  The Elder Scroll insight deeper than the deep ones, though.   To bring about the opening."

Ralsten slowly turned to meet Serana's gaze as the man babbled; she shrugged, looking just as puzzled as he was.

"I...we heard you know about Elder Scrolls."

Septimus jabbed a finger in the air at them.  "The Empire.  They absconded with them.  Or so they think.  The ones they saw.  The ones they thought they saw.  I know of one.  Forgotten.  Sequestered.  But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I...I have arisen beyond its grasp."

Ralsten blew out an exasperated huff, looking again to Serana.  Septimus began to pace again, muttering to himself.

"So, where is the Scroll?" Serana asked into the silence that followed.

"Here.  Well, here as in this plane.  Mundus.  Tamriel.  Nearby, relatively speaking.  On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby."

"Are...you all right?" Ralsten asked, staring at the man dubiously.

"Oh, I am well.  I will be well.  Well to be within the will inside the walls."

Serana edged around Ralsten, keeping a hand on his arm to keep her balance on the slick path.  "Can you help us get the Scroll?"

"One block lifts the other." Septimus turned to her, waggling a finger then tugging on his scraggly beard.  "Septimus will give you what you want, but you must bring him something in return."

"What do you want, then?"

Septimus again shook his finger at her, then swept around to gesture at the Dwemer cube structure.  "You see this masterwork of the Dwemer.   Deep inside, their greatest knowings.  Septimus is clever among men, but he is an idiot child compared to the dullest Dwemer.  Lucky then that they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls.  In the depths of the Blackreach one yet lies.  Have you heard of Blackreach?   "Cast upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept.""  With frantic movements he gestured for them to come in - to come closer.

"Why is it never easy..." Ralsten muttered.  He kept one arm on the ice wall and the other held out to keep Serana steady until they reached a portion of the icy ramp that was dotted with stones and provided more solid footing.

"This Blackreach - where is it?" Serana asked, once they stood in front of the madman.

"Under deep.  Below the dark.  The hidden keep.  Tower Mzark.   Alftand.  The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock."  He spoke in an excited, animated way that was unnerving in its mania until he suddenly stopped and began to pace and mutter once more.

Ralsten eyed him warily.  "I've never heard of a Blackreach.  How do we even get in?"

"Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But... empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know."  He hurried over to the wardrobe and yanked the doors wide, rummaging around before coming back with a sphere and a hand-sized cube of Dwemer make, the cube with raised corners with a gold and darkened brass geometric pattern as well as a circular part in the middle marked with some kind of dwemer design - perhaps a rune? - that was bronze and tarnished, and the sphere nearly identical to the circular area on the cube.

Septimus shoved them both into Ralsten's hands; both Ralsten and Serana stared first at the cube, then looked back to Septimus.  Serana sighed.  "What do we do with these?"

"To glimpse the world inside an Elder Scroll can damage the eyes. Or the mind, as it has to Septimus. The Dwemer found a loophole, as they always do. To focus the knowledge away and inside without harm. Place the lexicon into their contraption and focus the knowings into it. When it brims with glow, bring it back and Septimus can read once more.  This Dwemer lockbox. Look upon it and wonder. Inside is the heart. The heart of a god! The heart of you. And me. But it was hidden away. Not by the Dwarves, you see. They were already gone. Someone else. Unseen. Unknown. Found the heart, and with a flair of the ironical, used Dwarven trickery to lock it away. The scroll will give the deep vision needed to open it. For not even the strongest mechinations of the Dwemer can hold off the all-sight given by an Elder Scroll."

"We go to this Blackreach, fill this lexicon...thing...with dwemer knowledge -- and it's the scroll we seek that will do that?"

Septimus had turned back to the dwemer cube and didn't respond, nor did he respond to any further questions.  Serana took the lexicon and took a closer look, shaking her head, then handed it back to Ralsten and began to climb back up the ramp; he stored the lexicon and the sphere in his bag and followed her up the ramp and ladder and back out into the cold.

"Well, what now?  Do you know of any Blackreach?"

Ralsten chewed on his lower lip.  "No, not exactly. But he mentioned Mzark - if I'm remembering right, that's one of the mechanical towers that leads down into a dwemer ruin, which presents its own problem."

"What problem?"

He looked to her, expression grim.  "Dwemer ruins are underground and can stretch for miles...  I got lost in one a few years ago and about starved before I found my way out again - it all looks the same once you're inside.  The problem is we might not be able to carry enough supplies to keep going for very long, depending on how deep this ruin goes and where this Blackreach is."  He paused, then glanced away.   "Well...might not be able to carry enough for me.  Your needs are different."

She nodded.  Not far from them the boat still bobbed though the khajiit wasn't visible - he must have been ducked down inside the boat, laying on its bottom.   "I know what you mean, but I believe I've got that handled for now."

He shot her a sharp glance.  "What?"

She unbuckled her belt and slid the dagger's sheath free, then reached to the small of her back and pulled a small satchel around and off the leather -- the satchel wasn't all that big, and he hadn't noticed it under her cloak.

Serana opened the flap of the satchel and angled its inside toward him; Ralsten could just make out the tops of...bottles, or vials - something of that nature.  He hesitantly reached out to pluck one free, and when Serana didn't stop him he tugged one out and held it on a palm.

It was a vial with a wax sealed cork, tear-shaped and filled with a deep red-

"Blood," he said, looking from the vial to her.

"Sort of."  Serana held out a hand and he returned the vial to her.   "It's...a potion made WITH blood.  It's more concentrated, and sustains my kind for longer than regular blood does."  She slid the vial back into the satchel.  "I took as many as I thought I could take without them being noticed missing.  These should keep me for several months."   She buckled the satchel closed once more and fed the belt through the back loop, sliding it around to rest at the small of her back again.

"You could have told me," Ralsten said after a moment.  "I've been wondering..."

"I've drank a few of them since joining you at the fort -- I've just done so while you were asleep, or not paying me any attention.  I didn't want to upset you, given what I am.  And I thought you would keep me from feeding if it meant I had to find someone."

"I would have, yes."  Ralsten sighed, then flashed her a weak smile. "But.  Knowing what you know now, how insulted would you have been if I'd suggested feeding off a beast?"

She laughed a bit.  "Not exactly insulted, but I wouldn't have put much trust in what you had to say - you're not like me, you couldn't have known what you were talking about or suggesting."

"But now you know that I've witnessed a vampire feeding off beasts and still surviving."

"Yes, now I know.  I've...it's never been something I've had to consider before.  After we'd changed, there were always...food sources."  She cleared her throat.  "We should keep moving."

Ralsten led the way over to the boat and stepped in, nudging the khajiit awake.  Serana climbed in behind him and the two males started to row the way back to the mainland.

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

Mzark...Ralsten had heard of it and knew roughly where it was; Alftand was a name he knew but couldn't place on a map, but was pleasantly surprised to find that Alftand was closer to Winterhold than Mzark was. Serana had opted to go in through Alftand since it was nearer (and she wasn't too keen on going anywhere near Dimhollow again, which was close to where Mzark was located).

None really knew anything about the ruins, and especially nothing about Blackreach; that night as they sat in Winterhold's inn and planned they shuffled between them some of the supplies Ralsten had packed so he had room to carry more food -- he was confident water wouldn't be a problem as he knew from past experience that in a lot of places the ruins had collapsed and snow and ice had fallen inward.  All he'd need to do was scoop or chip ice into the waterskin he was carrying and then stick it inside his armor to gradually thaw from his body heat, then boil it later to keep from getting sick.

Food, on the other hand...  The problem with delving down into caves and ruins was, of course, the lack of readily available food, and with how physically demanding it could be if he didn't eat enough he'd be tiring quicker, be slower to react, and wouldn't be as strong as he'd normally be when properly fed.  As he'd mentioned before he'd once gotten lost in a dwemer ruin and had barely survived the trip back out so he knew exactly how easy it was for things to get...lean.  It wasn't a pleasant prospect and neither of them really had an answer for the problem aside from supplying and planning as best they could and hoping there'd be enough skeevers or something around if they had to scavenge (and Ralsten had shuddered at the thought - he HATED skeever meat and didn't relish the thought of having to survive off it again).

Alftand was at the top of a mountain to the southwest of Winterhold; the weather remained overcast but thankfully it didn't start snowing on them until the domed and tiled tops of the towers came into view.

"Let's get indoors.  Or in a cave.  Anywhere, just out of this," he heard Serana mutter behind him as the wind suddenly picked up and both the snow falling from the sky as well as snow kicked up from the ground began to pelt them.

"We're just about there, and you're probably going to get sick of these ruins and wish for this snow in a few day's time," Ralsten chuckled.

They checked the towers and found each one blocked off by a metal gate made of slats too close together for either of them to fit or even reach through, but they found a huge opening in the ice after they'd carefully navigated down a creaking wooden and rope walkway that had been hammered into the mountain's side and led from tower to tower.

"Well, here goes," Ralsten grumbled as they stepped through the opening in the ice and entered the ruins.

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

The going was...frustratingly slow.  There were still active dwemer defenses - their spidery and...spherical, dwarven-looking...THINGS - and, as was common with dwemer places there were Falmer infesting the otherwise deserted halls.  And to make things worse with how the dwarven machinery still ran, clanking and hissing, any dangers were almost impossible to hear coming.

They'd come across the corpses of adventurers, or maybe scholars; most of them looked to have been killed by the dwemer constructs but a few of them were riddled with Falmer arrows.  Ralsten found nothing useful among their remains and they'd been dead far too long to be of any use to Serana so they'd quickly moved on after each search.

Finding places secluded, secure, or intact enough to rest in was an issue he hadn't given much thought to but was realizing now; Ralsten needed to sleep, and while Serana couldn't sleep unless it was in a consecrated (well..."consecrated" to a vampire, but probably "desecrated" to anyone else) coffin she still got some benefit from just sitting for a bit -- this made her immensely valuable to Ralsten in that she could reliably keep watch while he slept, and they'd decided to use his sleep cycle (such as it was) to keep track of the days as they crawled through the ruins looking for any hint of this Blackreach and the Elder Scroll it concealed.

On what they counted as the tenth day, after spending several hours battling through an encampment of Falmer, they found themselves facing a narrow walkway with a door at its far end.

The walkway itself was stone and heavily damaged - it had clearly been much, much wider, but all but a three foot wide section of it had collapsed down into a deep pit; Ralsten thought he could see where stairs had once been affixed to the walls leading down into the pit, and assumed that there was probably a buried door or two down there.  All of the stone had piled up in a steep incline that nearly reached the walkway but stopped about five feet from its bottom lip.

The wall that the walkway hugged was...odd.  They could hear a hissing somewhere distant but there didn't appear to be any moving parts or pieces here; large circular metal plates hung on the wall at irregular intervals, flush with the stone and tarnished with age.

Ralsten carefully stepped out onto the stone, hearing what sounded like sand trickling; the walkway stayed firm under his feet so he took several more steps, then jumped up and down.

"Seems solid enough.  Just don't stumble-"

He immediately went silent and froze in place as the far door creaked open and a Falmer shuffled in; the raspy breathing of the ugly creature filled the air as it moved into the room, then paused and seemed to be sniffing the air around him.

The eyeless face turned toward Ralsten where he still stood stiff as a board and eying the other; with a growl the Falmer drew its weapon and raised its shield, and still Ralsten remained frozen in place.

Then, the Falmer charged.

When the Falmer somehow didn't topple off the ledge and into the pit the wood elf hissed a curse under his breath and shuffled in an awkward, sideways gait to meet the Falmer about two thirds of the way across to the door; the Falmer's crude blade slammed into the buckler on his arm -- there wasn't enough room to bring up the mace in his right hand, and as he was using his left arm to block Ralsten was sort of at a loss as to how he'd manage to fight back until he got back onto solid ground and had room to maneuver.

"Get aside!" he heard Serana call from behind him, accompanied by the sounds of her boots on the stone walkway.

Ralsten blocked another swing then flattened himself to the wall just as a shard of ice went flying passed him to clip the Falmer's right ear.  The attack momentarily distracted the beast, and Ralsten swung a mace in a half circle into the thing's knee with a sharp crack before he shuffled forward to slam the buckler into its ugly face.

The Falmer fell backward and as it hit the ground there was a clicking, then a whirring noise.  The circular plates in the walls suddenly shot outward with an explosion of steam; Ralsten had his left leg knocked out from under him at the same moment one of the plates slammed into his shoulder.  He teetered, balance lost, and then with an alarmed cry tipped over the edge; before he fell completely off the walkway he shoved off with his right leg and managed to launch himself sideways toward the edge of the floor ahead of him, sinking his fingers into the gap between a metal strip and a crack in the stone.

He hung there, panicked, as the Falmer loomed above him; the creature hissed, then stabbed downward and caught him in the space where his helm and shoulder guard met.  The blow was enough to dislodge one of his hands and desperately he tried to find something, anything - any kind of foothold - to push himself upward and maybe seize the Falmer by the ankle.

Instead he scrabbled there uselessly, at the mercy of the Falmer now raining blows down on him.  His plate armor protected him from being bloodied or stabbed, but the physical aspect of the blows slowly but surely weakened his grip on the edge...and finally, the Falmer had the sense to kick at him.

Ralsten's grip slipped, and down he fell.

rambling;

i have nothing good to post, so i thought it might be fun to compile some answers to various ffxiv- and rp-related memes and questionnaires i’ve done on my private accounts! please enjoy my screaming.

8. Is there a character that embodies your good traits, or traits you wish you had? Several characters? Which ones and what traits?

i wish i was handsome and suave like all my characters thanks

13. What’s something you’ve never thought about your character?

a certain someone recently decided to remind me that francel's house has no bathroom... and i had honestly never considered, in two whole years of playing him, where he goes to pee?

"do you mean poop" francel is a delicate maiden i will not consider this

(we figure there’s probably an outhouse... somewhere...)

3. What’s something that surprises you about your canon?

Wiltswys: You think me cold? Well, fie on what you think! I wanted something better than tilling salty fields and spilling small fry out the nets, and occasionally taking a passing sailor into my bed for more o' the same!

LISTEN THIS IS THE MOST VULGAR LINE IN THE GAME I SWEAR TO GOD

i have done this quest at least... 4 or 5 times now and it never fails to make me scream. and every time i do it i have to zoom in on her and look at her face because she is a really cute roe girl, so i wonder what her taste in sailors is...

19. Give me an appearance-related headcanon of your choice.

LAUGHS OK hmm what have i never said before...

i have definitely mentioned that i don’t think francel likes his appearance very much — he especially wishes he had lighter-colored eyes like stephanivien and aurvael...

i personally want to think that chlodebaimt looked very different from francel BUT, although i have never datamined the necrose knight (i really should), a friend of mine took screenshots and his eyes at least look like francel's eyes

...but they might very well have just used a generic house haillenarte knight model for that, so who knows what chlodebaimt looked like?

i also like to think that baurendouin (francel's father) persists in the belief that his youngest son will do great things because he at least superficially resembles driancoin de haillenarte (the haillenarte founder you see in the haldrath flashback scene). i mean, i doubt portraits of driancoin survived or anything, given the nondescript statues of thordan's knights, but i’m sure comments about him did?

"he was fair of face and fair of hair" idfk some shit like that

5. What do you hate about your canon?

i am always, ALWAYS so tired of hearing people complain about how “no one ever” treats the wol like they’re “a normal person” ah, yes no one no one ever has treated you nicely never mind the fact that people regularly apologize for turning to you in their hours of need, and for asking you to kill things, and you usually just dismiss their applogy no one!!! has ever!! been nice!! to the wol!! i know the entire arc of my francel writing career has been bitching about similar things but at least i find new ways to do it

ok wait i have to vent more about how people still persist in the NO ONE WAS NICE TO THE WOL BUT HAURCHEFAAANT!!!!! delusion like tataru fucking made you clothes recently IS THAT NOT THE ULTIMATE EXPRESSION OF LOVE? YOU'VE FINALLY BEEN REWARDED WITH SOMETHING PHYSICAL AND TANGIBLE!! STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW YOU DON’T HAVE FRIENDS!!

24. What’s a song that reminds you of your character?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1B7VKiJhU_s “Dear Jack,” by Jack’s Mannequin.

lately, i’ve been listening to this... i don't like every part of this song, but lyrically, it is such a perfect francel song

dear jack, i write you as a friend dear jack, i write for fear the end is coming soon to you it's not so clear it's clear to me it's clear as glass

dear jack, wherever you are, hold tight wherever he is, shine light right there be strong i dare

i had songs for you i had all your music written out the words came when i heard you screaming i had plans for you until the plans fell through now there is no turning back, my dear jack

11. Something you like to look at.

i have complicated feelings about haurchefant these days, but sometimes i go and look at this mug and cry about his handwriting

like from a lore perspective i know he can't be writing in english because they write in eorzean but until then, my friend...

14. When writing for specific characters, is there anything you have to do to get in the specific mindset?

yes! but it depends on the character. for ramza... i either read shakespeare (for real — i have lifted quotes wholesale from hamlet and the tempest) and/or listen to "rather be" by clean bandit? seriously, that is my most strong ramza association... which is weird because the song and the game are like 20 years apart? or i listen to the FFT ost...

for francel i have a whole playlist, but most importantly i either go on twitter and look at wolchefant fanart or read bad wolchefant fanfic on ao3... (don’t judge me; it keeps the bitterness alive)

18. Is there anything you really wish you could do that you feel is outside your current ability? A concept that you wish you could pull off but are uncertain about?

UMMM... hmmmmmmm...

i dont know... i don’t really think any plots are outside of my current ability, but i admire my friends for being so consistent and on the ball with their dignified prose? i can be dignified too, but at some point i'll crash and start writing intensely silly tags

i would like to do more plots where francel is a badass for whatever reason, but that’s just wish fulfillment

17. Which character is the easiest to write? Why do you think that is?

francel is the easiest to write because he has the ugliest emotions

ramza is the hardest because he is always so virtuous

everyone else has varying levels of self control, but with francel i can usually succumb to base impulse reactions. i like his unguarded nature...

6. When writing a character, do you find it easier to work on their external or internal ticks first? oh, internal, definitely. i think my tags suffer from the fact that i often don’t describe what my characters are doing or what is around them? just... just assume on my behalf lmao.... so IF FRANCEL IS CAUGHT UP IN INTERNAL TL;DR there's a 90% chance he's doing that kicked-puppy stare at the floor

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you? XIV, hard mode: no Haurchefant/WoL.

LMAO THAT HARD MODE...

xiv's fandom has rarely "ruined" pairings for me, as in "i liked them before but i hate them now solely because of fandom"... that said, i think i kind of liked the idea of zephirin and aymeric as a rivalry ship, but i hate when fandom takes the "oMG ZEPH RAPED AYMERIC WHEN HE WAS HELD CAPTIVE" route...

i think this perception of zephirin as this horrible awful evil man comes from the fact that the information on the ward happened after the game was released, so... in the span of time between "zephirin killed haurchefant" and "wait actually zephirin is a virtuous man," people formed their opinions, you know?

but it's still really annoying, and to some degree the misconception persists...

i was also okay with guydelot and sanson at first, but i’m a little annoyed by them now, too... it’s not for any particular reason — i just think the fandom is annoying in the "THEY'RE SOOO MARRIED!! EVEN THE OTHER QUEST NPCS SAY THEY'RE LIKE A MARRIED COUPLE!! THEY’RE SO CANON!!!" way and i’m like Please Shut Up. that said, i guess it’s mostly jealousy because none of my pairings are ever canon, but whatever...

so i guess i'm going with zephirin/aymeric, guydelot/sanson... and oh btw like. urianger/moenbryda to a degree? i remember when the wind-up moenbryda item came out and the english item description was like "you don't want to know what urianger did to this" or something like that, like, i just took it as — like urianger probably dressed it up in a little maid outfit and had it serve him tea or something equally otaku-like?

but the entire fandom was like OMG HE JERKED OFF TO IT OR USED IT AS A SEX DOLL OR SOMETHING and i was like ... okay. like if that's how you're determined to see it, fine, but fandom always takes the worst possible interpretation of something i swear to god

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

LAUGHS WELL I GUESS MY USUAL TIRADE: i don't think of haurchefant as the perfect cinnamon roll angel and actually he annoys me a little...

my friend just finished running coerthas quests on her balmung alt and like... even she commented on how brusque and condescending he seems to francel? and she has no reason to be tainted by my perception of him, it's just... it’s just that he is brusque and condescending.

back when i liked haurchefant/francel, i told myself that it was just how he acted in the heat of the moment and i was sure he was gentler later... but now we’ve seen so much of haurchefant that from the way he treats francel it really feels more to me like francel was just a friend of convenience. i don’t know. i’m bitter. maybe i’m just bitter because it’s easier to cope that way.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

um... well, i think everyone in the ffxiv fandom also agrees that the fandom is annoying...

something i sometimes worry about, but which is not exclusive to ffxiv, is like... people who rp wind up with such a different impression of things than people who just play the game? 

i'm not judging either side on this but... i have rp friends, and i observe the rp community on tumblr/balmung, and i also have friends that are just gamers? and you know, like. sometimes rpers get carried away and invent all these narratives, like i know some tumblr rpers had a bunch of "plots" where a murder mystery happened in ishgard and it was all full of like noble OCs and intrigue or something?

but my gamer friends will sometimes be like, “ishgard is so boring.” so they... see it differently? you wind up viewing the game differently based on what you do in it.

there's also the divide between the english version of the game and the rest of the world, which i bitch about a lot but

just as an example, in english the nobles of ishgard are kind of broadly characterized as being unintelligent and shallow and foppish, whereas the other versions of the game really take a much more neutral approach?

or well i can really only speak for the japanese, but in general the german and french versions of the game are loyal to the japanese, however, 2.0 content was often based on the english...

so, for example, 2.0 content was EN->FR, but ever since 3.0 most of the patches have been JP->EN/DE/FR

however, the EN version continues to make changes, whereas DE and FR don't really change many things!

so i worry a lot about the different perceptions people have of the game, and what that means, like, when i write fanfic...

does my interpretation of coerthas align with other peoples' interpretations of coerthas? probably not. that’s something that’s deeply distressing, as a writer and as someone who prefers to have control, but i don’t know...

17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen...

STARES INTO THE VOID it's it's too late for any of this

2 years ago i would have told you without hesitation that i wanted haurchefant to be alive and for him and francel to have eloped together, but now i just...

i've learned to play with the cards i've been dealt

It’s time for another What’s New Wednesday, and this week’s theme is … *drumroll* … Bad Shadows and Good Bones! 🦇 💀 Spooky, right? Well, dearest readers, it may be spring here, but I’m so ready for Halloween, so I thought we can start getting into the mood with some creepy obsessions. Okay, yes, I’m also going to get all chatty about The Night Weaver (The Night Weaver #1) and The Bone Carver (The Night Weaver #2), but it fits the theme. Promise. 😃

Bad Shadows and Good Bones

TV/Film

If you don’t know what Shadow People are, you’re in for a treat! Shadow People have been part of folklore and religions for ages, and are typically believed to be spirits or demons. Recently, there is a movement claiming these Shadow People are from a different reality. Now, I’ve been a big fan of these shades for a while … Heck, I even added my own interpretation of them in The Night Weaver! But here’s the thing: I never realized there was a movie made about them. So, guess what we’re watching? Yup, Shadow People. 🙂 I’m pretty excited about this one, because the trailer looked freaking awesome.

In the mood for a haunted house/possession movie? I am! Another flick I haven’t watched is Out of the Shadows, which looks uber-creepy. Thank God for Youtube’s algorithm, which suggested this trailer, because phew. I wouldn’t have found it otherwise. Anyway, I’m not sure what to expect, but it promises some demonic torment, which is always a win.

The Hallow is a rewatch with some evil faerie vibes. Like, super evil faerie vibes, I kid you not. Not a lot of people enjoyed this one when it first came out, but I totally loved it because it’s one of the better films revolving around changeling lore. Also, this film plays off in Ireland and the creepy woods are just out of this world gorgeous!

Books

Keeping up with the Bad Shadows and Good Bones theme, let’s get into what I’m reading this week. Now, last week I posted my 2020 Spring Reading List, which kind of gives an overview of everything I want to read this season.

I’ve already finished Obsidian by Jennifer L. Armentrout, which I kinda loved weirdly enough, and I’m halfway done with the sequel, but I want to mix things up when I’m done with Onyx because I’m a little annoyed with the way the story is developing. I’ll return to the series eventually, I’m sure.

The Leaving by Tara Altebrando is definitely next on my list, because I am craving a good mystery, and nothing says: “MYSTERY” like people going missing. I’m really hoping this book is as good as I’ve built it up to be in my head.

Then, it’s time to delve into the wonderfully dark mind of Stephen Graham Jones with his newest release, Night of the Mannequins. I’m also pretty excited about this one, especially since I’ve seen some folks chatting about it.

Music

I’m currently listening to Get Scared‘s latest album, Dead Days, which is totally helping me with my writing. A bit of metal is always helpful when you’re struggling to get the right words on paper. That’s my top tip to new writers. 😉

Another album I’m constantly hitting replay on is The Gloomy Tapes Vol. 2 by Call Me Karizma. It’s a shorter album, but it’s pretty cool. Definitely give that one a listen if you’re looking for alternative indie music.

The Bone Carver

Fan Love

I L❤️VE seeing (and sharing) readers’ photos of my books. With The Bone Carver releasing soon, some advance readers have been posting absolutely breathtaking photos on Instagram. Just look! The pics are just so freaking GORGEOUS!

I am absolutely amazed at the talent and creativity my readers possess. You guys are awesome!

First Review

What’s more, the first review is in for The Bone Carver and I’m just on top of the world by the kind words!

“From violent threats and death to unholy creatures, the mature themes of this engrossing horror fantasy place it in a category that will especially appeal to ages 16 and older.” – D. Donovan, Donovan’s Literary Services

The full review gives readers a glimpse into what to expect (with some quotes from The Bone Carver, too). Check it out here: The Bone Carver 

Read-Alikes

I’m currently working on a page for readers who’re experiencing some withdrawals from The Night Weaver Series or who wants a taste of what’s to come. I’m hoping to have it up by the end of the week, so make sure to check out the Extras category on the official page. 😉

Pre-Order

For a small New England town, Shadow Grove has an uncanny ability to attract the worst kind of trouble. Not that the residents are too concerned about the various horrors living among them.

As the leaves change color and the weather grows colder, a foul presence is making itself known by leaving peculiar gifts for the students of Ridge Crest High. At first the presents seem harmless—and a rash of accidents seem coincidental—but when seniors Rachel Cleary and her Scottish cousin, Dougal Mackay, find a boneless body in the boiler room, things take an ominous turn.

Something vicious is on the loose in Shadow Grove, and not knowing whether Orion Nebulius will ever return, Rachel has very little hope of anyone making it out alive.

PRE-ORDER NOW!

Writing

So, I’m hard at work writing the third installment of The Night Weaver Series. Yes, I am a little annoyed after having to delete 7,000 words this morning, but that too shall pass. LOL! It happens. It’s part of the job. And believe me, it doesn’t matter how in-depth your outline is, there’s a good chance you’ll veer off your chosen path at some point. That being said, I have a deadline for the Book #3 by the end of the month (heavens help me!), so if I go quiet at times, this is why.

In October, I’m also starting on a brand new project which is a collaboration piece. I’m not going to give away any deets on this one yet, but it’s going to be awesome. 🙂 Also, my collaborator (or shall I call her my accomplice?) is an absolute darling! You’ll love her. 😉

So, there is no way I’ll finish writing my BIG horror book this year. There simply isn’t enough time left. BUT I am working on it when I have a few minutes to spare and I have high hopes that it’ll be done by middle next year.

Website

I’m systematically changing my website up a bit. Updating some pages, creating new pages, and whatnot. The general feel will remain the same (don’t worry!), but I have some new extras I want to share on The Night Weaver Series page, for example. We also went for a little photo shoot on Monday, so I’m super excited to get some of those photos up. Ooh, and I am also working on a longer bio, so that everyone can get to know me a little better. 🙂

Phew! This was quite a post, huh? Well, I think I have said everything I can say for now. Next week, I have some other pretty-pretty stuff to share with you guys, so be sure to check back!

Have a superb week!

Monique

What’s New Wednesday #28: Bad Shadows and Good Bones It's time for another What's New Wednesday, and this week's theme is ... *drumroll* ... Bad Shadows and Good Bones!

I just finished playing through the Pillars of Eternity expansion, The White March.

After not playing the original game since just after it came out on the 25th of August 2015 it was a struggle to get back into the flow and mechanics. Also, as I finished the base game so long ago, I had completed it with out the copious amount of balance and quality of life changes the game had received, which may have made getting back into the game all the more confusing. I find the easiest way for me to learn mechanics in a game is by doing, and taking them in little by little as the game goes on, as opposed to reading about the game beforehand (which I tried) as I just forget everything because I can’t apply what I’m reading to any practical situations yet. Although, when it comes to games like Pillars with a plethora of deep, complex mechanics, I tend to get by on the bare-minimum of knowledge, completing challenges with trial and error and hoping to luck out by switching some variables on each attempt. I do this in life sometimes too, as I am lazy and I just want to get to the next part, and my brain doesn’t like learning (something I’m still trying to fix at 25.) In contrast to the first time playing, this time I actually DID learn some mechanics more thoroughly and was able to equip my companions well, select the right spells for the right battles, and learn my opponents weaknesses to defeat them. It made overcoming challenges much more satisfying as I actually put in more effort to complete them instead of just tirelessly and blindly doing battles in hopes that I’d randomly win. The expansion takes place during the events of the base game, and as the base game isn’t open ended, you’ll need to load an old save to get to The White March areas. Luckily the game makes a hard save just before fighting the final boss, which is where I started from, using my Druid god-like character. I’m not really a fan of expansions that take place in the middle of a game, as I feel like it changes the flow and the balance of the game a bit too much (unless it’s an open-ended/open-world game and the content is balanced for those who’ve already finished the base game content.) The White March does have an option to balance the enemies to higher level if you are already too high a level, which did make some fights still challenging for me, but it made after the expansion, even though it too had the option to make the enemies more challenging for a higher level character, a piece of cake. I remember my first time playing I had so much trouble with the last boss fight (though this may I have been due to my lack of understanding the mechanics) and after numerous attempts was so happy to defeat him (screw you, Thaos.) This time, I plowed through the enemies leading to the boss, and although it took a few attempts to win, was able to defeat the boss knowing after each attempt that I was going to win, I just had to do change one or two things. The second time I could see the win on the horizon and the first time the win was no where to be seen, I just kept walking and it came out of nowhere. I also hit the level-cap whilst completing the expansion, which is never a fun thing. Character progression is the largest motivator for me in CRPGs.  The story was much more interesting this time around, the second half anyway. The base game’s story had some interesting lore, but it bombarded you with it from the start which made it very hard for me to take in and kept me confused throughout the game. I barely remember the narrative, as it didn’t have enough ups and downs to keep it interesting, it was just a linear, low, slow climb to the finish. I think one issue with it was that the end and start of the game seemed so distant from the rest making most of what I was doing seem unimportant. I feel like an improvement would’ve been to focus on interesting story line with interesting character interactions, starting the game in pretty grounded terms but feeding the player lore slowly until they come to realise they are in a wacky alien universe quite unlike the real one that we live in. Environments were also quite dull, they were well detailed and looked great, but all I ended up seeing was one melancholic, washed out, environment after another. They blurred together. The expansion didn’t change much in this regard. I just wish they had more diverse environments, does everything have to be so depressing and drab in the world of PoE? The expansion didn’t change much either, it just added snow on top. I have the same criticism for enemy NPC and monsters too. A certain dragon and the last boss fight were the only enemies that really stood out to me, and a certain Lich fight, and the leading fight caused by it in the expansion I wasn’t too attached to any of my companions. I just couldn’t ‘connect’ with their stories, and I didn’t find any of them charismatic enough to be engaging. The Grieving Mother’s story and character were cool but I felt like it dragged on and just starting trying too hard to be serious (though what she was dealing with, hollow-born children, was very serious. so it can be forgiven.) I felt Durance as a character was a bit too “I’m so wacky!” but was a fan of his back story, a scientist working on a weapon to kill a god. The Devil of Caroc, an expansion character, was my favourite. A soul bound to a metal mannequin (Alphonse?) looking to get revenge on those who slaughtered her town. I’m a fan of companion characters that are really distinct from what you, as a player, can be and build. Although, I’m glad they didn’t go overboard on these kinds of characters as it’s what made Caroc stand out. Although I hate to admit it, looking back at games like Baldur’s Gate and trying to think of characters that do interest me, it’s the characters with player romance. Though I wish the game had some now, I think BioWare has focused too much on it with their newer titles. I think this game mostly suffers from being too linear and balanced all around. The mechanics were all too balanced, every character was suited for every situation and not many fights stood out as too hard. The setting was all very Irish (?) and grounded in reality. This can be good, but I wish it were more fantastical and that it had some vastly different cultures mixed in for contrast. I suppose this is what made Baldur’s Gate 2 so interesting for me, although it’s slightly different being high fantasy (vs PoE’s dark fantasy.) NPCs were from all over the Sword Coast in Baldur’s Gate, where as in PoE they are mostly from the location of the game, Dyrwood. I guess I like games in a silk road grounded setting, as it gives much more opportunities for conflict of culture and religion.

The game wasn’t bad by a long shot, just not very memorable. It definitely set up the groundwork and lore for a great game to be created in it’s universe, I just don’t think this was it.