two thoughts

first i currently feel like i'm dying & don't quite understand why or how so i'm naturally panicking about it which is making me feel worse (i'm using mild hyperbole here)

and second i think i really need to be less afraid of trying to kill my players in the miss frizzle campaign.

e.g. under the cut (don't read if you are one of the players in the campaign)

one of the players got swallowed by a beastie last session on sunday

it required 30 damage in one hit and a failed DC 14 CON save from the beastie in order to spit them back out

i had an npc manage to do 29 damage in one hit

and i said to myself "eh that's fine, that's good enough"

i don't remember if i even had the monster roll the CON save or not

all i did was make the character take 15 acid damage while being spat out.

i should've stuck to my guns.

they could've gotten there. they're all level 10. even though there are only 4 of them on this mission/class session.

case in point, our deeply, scarily, freakishly overpowered druid cast a fireball and did 30 damage like literally the very next turn. i didn't need to fudge the damage there. i could've let the player sit in the beastie's mouth for another turn or two, or even another round.

and if i didn't get so overwhelmed while running combat (i SERIOUSLY need an assistant to help with combat) i could also be doing the fun Extra stuff to make things even scarier and more intense.

but--a player did note. "we're probably not gonna die. we're with miss frizzle and nemeia--it's why they're here."

and that is true, and i didn't confirm nor deny it. i haven't said it out loud. but that is absolutely true.

i mean. up to a point.

once again if you are in the campaign stop reading.

but i have

plans

so it'll be interesting to kinda slowly turn things around them

"ah yes miss frizzle keeps you all safe" get them feeling like. Confident in their security, right?

i've currently laid the groundwork for "wow something fucky is going on in the world, i wanna know more"

and miss frizzle is bouncing back now after the attack on the festival and so we're getting into the swing of things and it's more like her normal classes

and i'm gonna get everybody used to that

and then when things start getting...deadlier

well. y'know. that'll be interesting.

but legitimately if anyone wants to help me run combat during these games i would be forever grateful

i can track: conditions/recurring saves and rolls, locations, everyone's movement and reactions, rounds, hp for beasties, etc.

you would track: monsters/combatants, npcs, do their turns and rounds for them, strategy, lair actions and effects, custom rules for critical hits, etc.

bc it's so silly--as a player i was ALWAYS tracking that stuff^^ that i listed as stuff that i can do. idk why. it was second nature.

as a player i'm always like "hey don't forget your ability" or "is that concentration?" or "it hasn't been a full round yet"

as a dm i stg i'm like "wait what happens? fuck thank you for the reminder. oh god what's going on?"

bc i'm panicking trying not to take forever to make npcs and the beasties take their turns and make their moves.

i wish i could hire someone who was good at running those elements of combat bc it's the most difficult part for me--

and it's also the stuff where, when i get overwhelmed, i just fudge things in the players' favor and i really fucking shouldn't bc i need it to feel deadly and like there are consequences!

anyway like i said i feel kinda like i'm dying so my arms hurt in really strange ways so i should stop typing and try to find a way to stay awake i'm. freaking out. lol

ok it's 1am here so piercifer au of the day (again): RPG AU!! or i guess rather mortal human high school au where ella gets all of her friends to play an rpg with her!

but, absolutely none of them have ever played an rpg before so the first meeting was gonna be just ella establishing rules but not one of them actually sat through for it and they just created very self-inserty characters on a whim:

chloe was a witch. maze was a demon. dan was a werewolf. charlotte was a vampire. and lucifer and marcus were their very own namesakes (or in marcus' case, his middle-namesake).

ella shrugged it off and decided to go along for this one campaign because her friends are having fun (save for marcus, who has never experienced joy in his life... or so everyone thinks) and well, she will explain the actual rules for the next campaign.

so she also makes up a story on a whim and for the first 2-3 meetings everything is fine. but then they all gather at marcus' place, as always, and they sit down and they take out their notes and everything and they keep waiting for ella but she's just not showing up, which is especially weird because marcus gave her a ride there himself.

and then all of the sudden they wake up in the game... as their characters!! and from then on they're forced to fight monsters as their characters without knowing how they got there, how/if they'll get out of there and what happens if they die.

at first they stick together and they also come to the realisation that ella must also be in the game but, the second they split up the monsters start taking them out one by one until only marcus and lucifer (who are basically unkillable) are still standing.

(the others who died in-game woke up just fine in the real world. at the end of it all, when they all wake up, they're all so confused and it doesn't help when they're greeted by an also very confused eve who was trying to find 7 blankets for the 7 kids sleeping in her living room.)

and from that point on they have to talk and work together, despite how much they both didn't want to. and surprise, surprise, them working together was very efficient and they got to the final threat, a dragon, in no time.

and in the end it was very much the power of friendship that saved the day because ella was basically a dragon who hoarded friends (and her in-game character actually did collect a special magic stone from each of the dead players to symbolise just that) and she just wanted all of her friends to get along.

and since this is a piercifer au, at least technically ig, a big part of the in-game section is about them talking and opening up to the other and working together and they are definitely both smitten/ready to admit that they've had crushes on each other for a while by the end of the game and in the end when they do wake up they find out that apparently they've been cuddling the whole time.

and then there's also the idea for a scene where lucifer is flirting with marcus and he says that being horny is one of his character traits and that he needs to get laid, badly, and marcus shuts him down by saying that one of *his* character traits is not being interested. lucifer pouts for the rest of the night.

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 12

Foolish Heroes of Barley

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, the party had returned to Barley to deal with a few loose ends. They've been staying in town for a while, waiting for their hired Deathseekers to deal with the dragon in the tower. This session, their stay comes to an end, and as you can see from the image here, they don't get into any trouble whatsoever.

A few other things happen before their fateful final night in town:

Kevin Softbreeze, the herbalist from the Deathseekers, visits town and sells Looseleaf some magic flowers that repel demons- though they're not very potent, and she'll need to stop by his garden in Cauterdale if she wants some seeds to try growing. Saelhen buys some potent knockout drops.

The villagers appear to still be arming themselves and preparing for battle with Wheat- since they didn't mention Arnie as the culprit at all, and tried to pin it on the dragon directly, Malath is still skeptical that they're totally safe from invasion, and defensive preparations continue.

Rumors spread that Chitch has gone missing, but no one can find the body. The party spreads rumors of their own- true ones- that Chitch went to go find his daughter after learning that the pain-wizard is dead.

On their fifth night in the village- somewhat earlier than expected- they notice something outside the window of their rooms in the inn. Lumiere's tower, previously unnoticeable, is suddenly aglow with some sort of yellow cylindrical magic barrier, made up of hexagonal panels.

Looseleaf rouses the rest of the party- the plan is to watch from a distance, and not interfere. A very loud roar is heard in the distance, which is suddenly cut off in the middle- it seems the Deathseekers have sprung their trap.

It's not too much longer after that when they begin to hear screams from around them in the village.

Saelhen's elf eyes spot... something rustling in the fields around the village. All of them. Quite a lot of somethings. Except despite the rustling, she can't make out anything but barley stalks. And the nothing- the hordes of nothing- is moving towards the tower.

The party leaps into action, heading downstairs with weapons drawn. On the ground floor, they see... something sort of familiar. Those Greed Echoes, the mud-and-grass monsters they fought on the road- one of them is forming itself out of broken bottles, dust, and wooden planks uprooted from the floor of the Harvester Inn. Cassie, the innkeeper, is watching in terror, knuckles white gripping a frying pan.

Congratulations! You're both right! The dragon is summoning an army of hateful Justice Echoes powered by the roused hatred of Wheat that's been stirred up in town!

Oyobi thinks fast, and oneshots the echo in the kitchen with an arrow, shattering a bottle that'd become its core. The screams outside continue, though, and the party exits the inn to find panicked villagers fleeing their homes. Justice Echoes made primarily from twisted stalks of barley have formed in their fields and homes, taking the weapons amassed for self-defense from their owners. They attack only those who resist, and make their way towards the tower.

Looseleaf: Let's just attack some hate-plague spirits and see if they decide to attack us instead. If they don't attack us at all, then we can just ignore them and run leisurely next to them and pick them off as we go. If they attack us, then it's a regular fight. "We're up to do some heroism this fine night, right, team?" Oyobi Yamatake: "Obviously!" Orluthe Chokorov: "Uh, I don't have that one prepared, do I? Uh..." Vayen: Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I am up to rub Mother K's face in the super obvious consequences of her actions while incidentally preventing pointless suffering." "Go team! Woo!"

Looseleaf starts us off by rending the spirit of the closest barley-monster, using her new Painspike ability to make the target Frightened of her.

However... these monsters have no purpose except to attack that which they fear, so rather than the normal effect of being Frightened, Looseleaf has now drawn aggro from this monster. Which is kind of what she wanted! So, that's a win! She now has a way to goad the enemy!

The party takes some swings at the monsters, knocking a couple out, but most of them seem to just be ignoring them, continuing to run through the fields towards the tower. They could become a problem for the Deathseekers if they're not dealt with- or for Wheat, for that matter.

Backup arrives in the form of Malath Kanthalga, who perceives these events as- what else?- an attack by Wheat. She's screaming, demanding to know who's responsible, and smashing echoes apart with her mace. Still, the echoes are mostly ignoring the village- they're grabbing anything they can find to use as a weapon, sort of ransacking the place, but most of them are just fleeing.

So Saelhen comes up with an extremely well-timed plan. It's a really good plan, I love it, and I'm excited to hit them with the consequences of her plan- until Looseleaf issues a timely bit of advice:

Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen dashes (Cunning Action), steps forward, inhales a great gulp of breath... "FOOLISH HEROES OF BARLEY!" she bellows. "WHILE YOU FUTILELY WASTE YOURSELVES AGAINST WHEAT'S DEFENSES, I, THE SECRET SHADOW MAYOR OF WHEAT, WILL BE HERE BURNING YOUR HOMES!" "AND ALSO MENACING YOUR CITIZENS WITH MY PERMISSIVE IDEOLOGY!" She waves her hooded lantern, unlit, above her head, to drive the point home. "WHO AMONG YOU CAN STOP ME AND DELIVER JUSTICE? NO ONE, PROBABLY, I ASSUME!"

Vayen, in a surprising show of, let's call it camaraderie, is very much in support of this plan for some reason! He takes a break from his busy schedule of doing absolutely nothing every turn in combat to cast a helpful illusion, to ensure as many monsters aggro Saelhen as possible!

A few more rounds of combat ensue, with a good chunk of the monsters- including a few very large building-sized hulks- immediately turning to kill Saelhen. The party gets some good hits in, and Saelhen gets a little roughed up. She... would like maybe fewer things to be attacking her, actually.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Their attention is on me, Mother Kanthalga, the secret mayor of Wheat this entire time, but you might be able to calm their anger! These creatures were born from this town's... collective mind, or something, they may listen to you if you order them to stand down!" Benedict I. (GM): Not with advantage, but a 22... "Wh... what? What are you saying? That's..." She hesitates, then speaks, in a booming voice she- well, you spent a few days here, you know she reserves it for sermons. "STAND DOWN! The time to strike against our foe has not yet come!" "We must be prudent! We must defend ourselves, not attack!" [DEFEND OURSELVES,] the echoes agree, continuing to bear down on Saelhen. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Worth a shot!

It doesn't seem like these things are hugely receptive to emotional appeals or logical argument- they have the one emotion, which they're made of, and they don't super do other ones.

In the following combat rounds, Saelhen... takes a few more hits, which she is not designed to do on account of being a rogue.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: WHY DID I NOT DECLARE ORLUTHE THE SECRET SHADOW MAYOR

More echoes emerge from the fields and attack, and Saelhen is starting to look really rough- and Vayen just keeps the illusion on her, not actually helping in any way. Until... one of them goes for Looseleaf, instead. When it starts looking like she might be in danger, he fires off a bolt of blue electricity, which begins to singe one of the monsters attacking her for damage every turn. He's... a higher-level spellcaster than anyone else in the party, apparently!

Looseleaf, with a little room to maneuver, unfolds her wings and takes to the air- up and out of reach of the smaller monsters, drawing their aggro and forcing them to waste turns. Meanwhile, Orluthe and Oyobi, backed up by Malath and a couple of villagers who've reclaimed their weapons, cut down a few more echoes as more surge forth from the fields to replace them.

Saelhen... keeps trying to persuade Malath to persuade the echoes to stop. She does very well at persuading Malath to try that! Malath tries that, wholeheartedly, once again to no effect! Eventually, Malath stops trying.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Would you consider coming to them as a trusted comrade, who trained them to protect them, rather than the one leading them off to war? Maybe?" Malath Kanthalga: "I am going to come to them as a very angry warrior with a mace," she growls. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Okay! Okay, fair enough. Spiritual remedies off the table, understood."

Orluthe is getting really tired, and keeps whiffing his swings- it's touch-and-go for a while. But Saelhen and Looseleaf's frantic attempts to kite enemies out of range have been paying off, and they manage to down the remaining super-hulks juuuuust before anyone dies.

Benedict I. (GM): Y'know, it's possible that making the two squishiest members of the party draw aggro was not the number one best strategic move Saelhen du Fishercrown: IT MAYBE WASN'T, NO Looseleaf: eh, it's worked out so far!

The combat wraps up, and we transition to a bunch of Athletics rolls to chase down and terminate as many of the smaller echoes as possible. They build a firepit in the center of town, to dispose of defeated echoes in- just in case that's necessary, because who knows what kind of magic is animating these guys.

So after a wild night of chasing, taunting, fleeing, and burning justice echoes- well, it's not so much a wild night as a wild twenty minutes or so- there's a point at which the fields just suddenly fall silent. A pair of echoes chasing Saelhen fall to the ground, inert.

With a good roll...

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...of course, you're free to dismiss this as the ramblings of a crazed outsider. But keep in mind, Mother Kanthalga, that the ones who fell upon your town, tore it apart in a frenzy of violence, and stabbed you repeatedly for your pains, endangering your people, your daughter and your livelihoods, were repeating the words you taught them." Benedict I. (GM): Malath winces. "That... I don't know why they..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...think on it. You're reasonable people, around here. You can come to your own conclusions." Benedict I. (GM): "I tell you, I did not make these things! If not for..." She's kind of lost for words. "...Apologies. I have much work to do," she says, and leaves.

After some work mending the village and cleaning up the aftermath, Looseleaf heads back into the inn to check on Vayen, who hasn't been helping at all and is instead drunk at the bar. He asks "Did she make it?"- and Looseleaf gets a nat 20 on Insight.

She's pretty sure that he was talking about Saelhen- and that he sounded almost hopeful. He was unusually jazzed about a plan that involved her being attacked by a horde of angry monsters- and he chose to shoot the echo that was attacking her, not the one bearing down on Saelhen with a bunch of its friends. When she informs him Saelhen survived, she's able to tell he's disappointed.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: so he doesn't hate us, as a group he hates saelhen specifically Looseleaf: But also weirdly- okay, what if: what if he actually has an ancestral quest involving that bracer and he's mad that saelhen beat him to the punch and furthermore used it as a shitty cover story Saelhen du Fishercrown: saelhen going THE DE LA SURPLUS ANCESTRAL QUEST IS REAL???

Looseleaf switches to talking to Vayen via her spirit-magic imitation of the Message spell.

Looseleaf: (Like, Vayen, everything you're doing is about Saelhen in some way or other. And I can't figure out why. You seem pretty much ambivalent towards all of us except for her. I don't get it. If you want Saelhen dead, why haven't you just killed her? I saw that lightning bolt- if you wanted, I bet you could take all of us, in a straight fight.) (You're sending real mixed signals. If you want her dead, why isn't she dead? Why do you want her to be dead via a hand other than your own?) Vayen: He locks up. And then sighs. Looseleaf: (And now you're sitting here sounding all tired and sad and I feel bad about that.) (I dunno, do you want to, uh, talk about it, with someone.) Vayen: "I don't... want her... to be dead," he says, clearly choosing his words carefully. "I have nothing against her." Looseleaf: (Then it's the- bracer??) Vayen: I'm letting that one Insight roll do a lot of work here, but he definitely reacts to that. "I- um, no," he says, lying. Looseleaf: (There is literally nothing significant about Saelhen other than her bracer, unless you plan on telling me that your deepest desire is to defeat the dance emperor of Kanzentokai in a danceoff and reclaim your ancestral throne of dancing glory.) (Which, granted, if that's the case, that'd be amazing.) Vayen: "I don't know what you're- that's not..." "It's all coincidence. Whatever you're thinking. I don't have- I don't have anything against- Saelhen? Noeru?" Looseleaf: (Look, I- okay, here's how I see things. I don't know how the bracer works, it's weird magic stuff, but the way I see it, there's two major ways the bracer could work.) (That is, you either want the bracer for yourself, because whatever it does or whatever you need it for, you need to be the one wearing it- OR, you just need anybody willing to use the bracer to do whatever it is the bracer's supposed to do.) Vayen: "...Can you not?" "I- I have a job." "I have an important job." "It's from the School of Restricted Arts." Looseleaf: "Well, tell us about the dang important job then! Maybe we can help you with it." "I don't get why you're preassuming that we'd never do anything you might want us to do." Vayen: "It's from the School of- are you listening?" "It's secret." "Look, it's- you don't need to worry about it, okay?" Looseleaf: "Hhhhhrlgkrkshxzshktkrrrzzzzktttttkzzz," Looseleaf says, reverting to her natural dialect in a brief moment of frustration. Vayen: "Sure, it's easier if- I mean, she- that was her idea, she wanted to..." "I just- I can just..." "As long as I can keep an eye on..." He groans. "I shouldn't be talking to you." "You're not in the School." Looseleaf: "Okay, just- hhhjkkkkkrkxxxxxtk." Vayen:"Are... you okay?" He's never asked a question like that before. Looseleaf: (I'm fine, that's just how we express frustration, our throats don't naturally conform to making sounds like 'hrrrrrgh', whenever I do that it's a performative thing that I do to adhere to human expectations- look, the big reason why I'm trying to, pound my way through your portcullis of secrecy with a twenty-foot battering ram of blunt communication,) (is because right now Saelhen is like, probably 80% convinced you're trying to poison her in your sleep.) (Seriously, this amount of in-party distrust is, like, way too Ccorde-damned much.) Vayen: "I wouldn't do that," he says. "If I were going to do that, I'd have done it already. Looseleaf: (If you'd express, in a credible way, that you're actually just trying to get Saelhen to do whatever it is she'd do anyways, she'd feel a lot better about it!) (And then she might even work with you to further your goals directly!) Vayen: He doesn't say anything for a little while. "...This is stupid." "This isn't even- it's wrong, even." "Maybe that's why." Man, that bottle he's holding is emptier than you thought it'd be. He's only been here less than half an hour. "Don't try to- guh, friends. He'll never- stupid. What's the point." He sort of collapses on the bar.

Vayen, it seems, can't hold his liquor. Looseleaf... carries him back up to his room.

Next time: the party finally leaves Barley, for good this time! And also a minor medical emergency happens, and also they kidnap a twelve-year-old, but like, it's fine. It'll be fine. Don't worry about it.

James comes back to life and realizes that Sirius, while being strong and tough as always, is also touch-starved but afraid of being close to people because touch always meant pain and now Sirius is back in Grimmauld Place because of Dumbledore and neither he nor James can bear it so James makes sure to take care of Sirius and get him used to being loved again, while also being extremely protective of his husband (sorry, I have a thing for protective James). Thank you!

Sirius wasn't used to people touching him anymore. When he was a kid, Orion and Walburga didn't 'believe' in it. Him and Regulus used to hug sometimes, and when they were really small, sometimes Reg would crawl into his bed after a nightmare. Becoming friends with James had completely turned that around in Hogwarts, and the marauders had been comfortable with each other, nudging and hugging whenever they bloody well felt like it. They'd gotten married, and they could hardly be in the same room with out an arm around each other or a hand on the other's shoulder. 

But then James and Lily and Regulus were all dead, Peter had betrayed them, and Remus was in the wind, either with Fenrir's pack or running away from them. And Sirius... well, he'd been in Azkaban for twelve years. Nobody touched him. He barely ever saw another human face, just a few times a year when Fudge would check in on the high security prisoners. He always felt most human when Fudge visited, but that was mostly because it brought Sirius a smidgen of joy to freak him out. Fudge would always leave after a few minutes, and all Sirius had was the company of Dementors, who made him feel like he'd never touched another living being in his entire life. 

He wasn't going to let his own sodding problems interfere with Harry though, so he made a point to hug him every time he saw him. Merlin knows the kid needs it. 

And now, somehow, James was back. There had been some spell that hit the Veil and the next thing everyone knew, James Potter was falling out of it, alive and looking exactly the way he had before he'd gotten killed. It had been a few days, and Sirius still didn't know what to think about it. James had spent most of that time getting shuffled from St. Mungo's to the Ministry and back, and since Sirius was still a fugitive, he couldn't go with him. Not that he wanted to. Remus and Harry and all other sorts of people were keeping him company as he got used to being alive again, and James was-- if not happy-- okay with it. Remus gave him updates, which mostly consisted of fire messages that James thought he was fine and wanted to go home and everyone else had to force him to stay put for the tests and questionnaires and whatever the hell else they were doing. Sirius wondered if James had asked about him. It used to be that you couldn't tear Sirius away from his side, and while he still felt that way (or close to it, at least), he wasn't the same person James had fallen in love with. 

So that's why Sirius was here. Laying on the floor of the Grimmauld Place dining room, staring at the ceiling. That was another thing that he hadn't gotten used to yet: soft beds. He couldn't do it even though he'd been staying in this fucking place for nearly a year. Laying on tile was about as good as it got. 

He heard Kreacher's shuffling steps, and then the house elf started to mutter, "Filthy blood traitor son of Mistress getting the floor dirty. Poor Kreacher keeps it clean and he does not-" 

"Sod off, Kreacher," Sirius said, and Kreacher turned around and started ambling away, talking about how distressed Walburga would be if she could see the house like this. Sirius rolled his eyes, then went back to feeling nothing but cold from the floor creeping up into his bones. It didn't feel good, but it felt familiar. 

He stayed there for a while, and he would've stayed there longer if he didn't hear the front door open and people start pouring in. He sighed, pushing himself up and moving to a chair. He had to pretend to be normal, or Molly would keep on with her campaign that Sirius wasn't suited to raising a child. Not that he'd ever thought he could do it in the first place. It had first been Lily's idea, then James's; Sirius was just along for the ride. 

James had a sixth sense for his location, he was sure of it. It was the only explanation he could think of for why James entered Grimmauld Place and immediately headed for the dining room, throwing open the door with an excited shout of, "Sirius!" A few people were trailing him-- Harry, Remus, Dora, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny-- but it was obvious that they were there for James, not Sirius. Not that Sirius minded, he wasn't exactly good company. James either didn't notice or didn't care, because he walked right up to Sirius and took the chair next to him, scooting closer and throwing an arm around his shoulders as casually as he ever had. "I'm alive! I know you already knew that, but it took these fuckers three days to make it official. Don't you think they should have been able to put it together before then? It's kinda obvious." Fred, George, and Ginny all went to the kitchen, and Dora followed them after glancing at Remus. 

"I think they were making sure you were going to stay that way," Remus said, leaning against the wall. 

James waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. But in even better news, your case is going through!" 

A pause. 

"I thought you'd be more excited about that." 

Sirius shrugged. 

"You'll be able to move," Harry said. "I know you hate it here." 

"Eh." Of course he hated it here. He kind of hated it everywhere. 

"Which brings up a very good question. Why are you staying here?" James asked. 

"Dumbledore thought it was a good idea." 

"I'm sure he did," James said flatly. "That doesn't explain why you didn't bugger off to one of your houses." 

"You have other houses?" Harry asked. 

Sirius shook his head. "They're Potter properties." 

"Right, which means they're yours. Honestly Si, it's like you're not paying attention. This place is depressing. I think we should pack up and go to the one with the sheep farm next door. Or at least, it used to have a sheep farm next door. I suppose they could've moved, but Mrs. Smith seemed very fond of those things, it's hard to imagine she left. Anyways, there's a pond, the woods, and plenty of green. Anything would be an upgrade from this dismal place-- honestly, who thought this decoration was a good idea?-- but it's by far the prettiest." 

Sirius shrugged James's arm off of him, not looking at him so he wouldn't have to see the confused expression that doubtlessly crossed his face. "Yeah, well you and Harry can go live there and visit when you get the time." 

"Why wouldn't you come with us?" James asked, innocently confused. 

"I'm a fugitive, remember?" 

"Yeah, but that's not going to last." 

"You could come with us anyways," Harry said hopefully. "It's not as if Ministry officials are going to be dropping by, right?" 

"See? The prongslet makes a good point. You, me, Harry, maybe Remus if he stops being such a tosser about everything," James said, shooting a pointed look in Remus's direction. "It'll be great." 

"Yeah erm," Sirius swallowed, getting to his feet. "No thanks. You'll be fine on your own." He ruffled Harry's hair as he passed, not making eye contact with anyone as he went up to Buckbeak's room. 

James watched Sirius leave, frowning and beyond confused. He shot Harry a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he gets in moods sometimes. We can look at some of the houses tomorrow, if you like?" 

"Er, sure. Are you sure he's okay?" Harry asked worriedly. 

"Yeah, he's fine." James gave him another smile, but he grabbed Remus's arm when he left the room, not letting go until they were alone in the sitting room. "Do you know what's wrong with him?" he asked quietly. 

"He was in Azkaban for over a decade," Remus replied, keeping his voice low as well. "He thought you were dead that entire time, and he's in hiding. He's never dealt well with being cooped up, and you know full well that you're the one thing he could never stand to lose. He's not... honestly James, there's so much that's wrong with him right now, I can't list it all." 

James blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up even more. "Right, I know, it's just. During the war and Harry being born and everything, he used to pretend that everything was fine. I guess I was expecting for him to be more like that." 

"Ten years without you," Remus reminded him. "He's not okay. Go bloody talk to him before he starts brooding for the next week." 

Remus expected for James to immediately turn and make his way up the stairs, but James stood there, chewing on his lip. "Are we even still married? It's. Y'know. Twelve years is a long time, he may not- I mean- what if he doesn't love me anymore?" 

"I can't answer that for him." 

"Right." James was worried about more, like how the hell he was supposed to raise Harry when he was only five years older than him now. He didn't know how the hell a relationship between him and Sirius would work even if Sirius did still want it to happen, because James was fifteen years younger than him. He didn't know if he was still considered Lord Potter or not. He didn't know how he'd manage to deal with any of this shite if Sirius wanted to go back to just being friends. How was James supposed to act around him if that happened? He couldn't imagine ever not being in love with him. 

He stood there for another minute, then shook his head defeatedly. When had Sirius ever listened to him? But he wasn't going to let that stop him from trying, so he trudged up the stairs, passing house elf heads that he wanted to rip down. Or maybe he just wanted to burn the whole arse place down, which was as much as it deserved. 

Sirius's door was open, and he was nowhere to be found inside. Harry had mentioned that Sirius spent most of his time with Buckbeak, so James went to the hippogriff's room next. Sure enough, Sirius was there, stroking his feathers. James wasn't great with hippogriffs, so he kept his gaze averted and stayed in the doorway. "Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?" 

"Sure." Sirius gave Buckbeak a pat on the back then left, closing the door behind him. "What's up?" 

"Erm, in private? I don't want anyone walking up." 

Sirius shrugged, like he really couldn't care. 

James reminded himself that Sirius had defenses, and he couldn't expect to get past them just because he felt like he should be allowed through. James and Remus were sharing a room, and it was closer than the one Sirius was staying in, so James led him there. He cast a silencing spell but didn't bother to lock it since being interrupted wasn't the biggest issue, it was them being overheard. James wasn't about to pour his heart out where one of the kids could eavesdrop. "If I ask you one question, will you answer completely honestly?" 

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. It used to be that Sirius would say 'yes of course' as soon as James finished asking. "One," he agreed. 

James swallowed down the hurt that came from the carefully guarded answer. "How do you feel about me?" 

Sirius's eyes sharpened. "I can't believe you even have to ask." 

"I can't believe it either, but you don't want to live with me and Harry. You know him better than me, I could use some back up. Besides, I'm- what, five years older than him right now? Six? I'm more like an older brother than a father. And you- okay, I don't know the hell you've been through. I don't understand it and I know I never will, but I love you and you're acting like you don't care. Are we still married? Do you want to pretend that we never were? And why the fuck are you staying here? Because Dumbledore said so? You don't belong here. We should get everyone out and tear it down brick by brick. There are plenty of other places to have a safehouse, and none of them are buildings that you were abused in. When I got you out the first time, I told you that you'd never have to come back, and I meant it." 

"Are you done?" 

"Hardly, but it looks like you have something to say." 

"I love you, but I don't think we fit. That's how I feel about you. I would die for you, but I'm not going to drag you down with me." 

"Drag me down? Is that really what you think you'd be doing? No offense Sirius, but I just came back from the dead and I'm not going to let something like this ruin us. You don't want to be with me? Say so, and I'll leave you alone. But if you think you're sparing me or some shite, I'm going to smother you with love until you remember what it feels like." 

Sirius sighed. "James, it's not that simple-" he broke off with a surprised squeak as James wrapped him up in a tight hug. "Er, what are you doing?" 

"Smothering you with love, step one," James grit out. "Good luck getting rid of me now, you tosser." 

*

After that, James stuck to Sirius's side like glue. Half the time he let him have his own space, but the other half of the time, he was aggressively cuddling him. 

"Sirius, I've heard you're thinking about moving," Dumbledore said, and James snorted. 'Thinking about moving' his arse, they were literally in the middle of packing up things from Sirius's old bedroom. "I know you are displeased with your isolation, but the protections here-" 

"Are absolute shite compared to the ones where we're going. You don't have to have Sirius watching the Order's headquarters, and he's not going to get caught staying anywhere else. So long as he's not walking down the street as is, he'll be fine." 

"I know that the two of you must have missed each other terribly-" 

"Let me stop you right there. I appreciate everything you've done in the fight against Voldemort, and I do value the help you've given everyone in the past. But things are different now." They weren't a whole bunch of clueless kids trying desperately to keep their freedom. James wasn't much smarter now, if he was honest, but Sirius needed for him to take a firmer stand. "I'm not going to change my mind on this, and all you're going to accomplish if you keep pushing it, is making me mad. We'll stay in touch, okay?" It was obvious that James couldn't care less what Dumbledore's response to that was going to be, James was going to do what he wanted no matter what the old man said. 

*

James and Sirius were sharing a bed. In theory. James woke up early the first morning to find that Sirius had already gone downstairs. That happened for the next couple of days. Sirius was gone, James went to find him, and Sirius was in the kitchen frying up some eggs while reading a book. He wasn't sure if Sirius was actually reading the book or if he wanted an excuse not to talk. 

James woke up in the middle of the night-- one a.m. according to the clock-- to an empty bed. He sighed, throwing off the blankets. He'd thought this entire time that Sirius was just waking early, but maybe it's that he wasn't staying there at all, instead waiting until James fell asleep to go somewhere else. He started shuffling towards the door, rubbing at his eyes when he tripped over something. A very large, human shaped something. "Sirius?" 

He'd woken up when James ran into him. "Yeah," he rasped. 

James sat down on the floor next to him. It was too bloody early to be awake, let alone having a conversation. "What're you doing?" 

"I was sleeping." 

"On the ground?" 

Sirius didn't answer. 

James leaned forward and rested his forehead on Sirius's shoulder. "Will you please just come to bed?" 

Sirius sighed, and the motion moved James's head along with him. 

"Please?" 

"Fine." It was a far cry from the enthusiasm James wanted, but they were working with baby steps. Sirius achingly pushed himself up, rolled over to the bed, crawled up, then said, "Happy?" 

James got back in, snuggling against him. "Getting there. Is the bed uncomfortable? We can get a new one." 

He said nothing, and James took that to mean this was another one of those ways that Sirius was punishing himself. Their bed was pretty firm as it was, so he doubted they'd have to actually get a new one. 

*

James stood his ground, unflinching in the face of ten aurors on his doorstep. "Can I see the warrant?" he asked, holding out a hand expectantly. They wouldn't be able to get past unless he let them, and they wouldn't get permission until he saw the warrant was in order. Harry was squirming nervously behind him, probably wondering if he should give Sirius a heads-up so he could get out. Fortunately, it wasn't going to come to that. James took one glance at it, handed it back, and said, "Nope." 

"No?" 

"It's a search warrant for Sirius Black, and there isn't one of those living." 

The auror in charge of the group gave an aggravated sigh. "Mister Potter, do you understand that denying us entrance after a properly served warrant is-" 

"Is a whole bunch of nothing because your warrant doesn't apply. Who else are you going to try to find? Orion Black? Gideon Prewett? Merlin himself?" 

The auror got a very confused look and said, "Sir?" 

"Sirius Black stopped existing on the twenty-eighth of March in nineteen-seventy-seven; you can take it up with your boss," James said, then shut the door. 

Harry frowned up at him when he turned around. "Really?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm confused. Why isn't he Sirius Black?" 

"Oh, well me and Sirius got married the day after my seventeenth birthday, and he changed his last name to Potter." James ruffled Harry's hair as he passed. 

"...oh. I knew you were together," although that had been a pretty startlingly realisation when he found out a couple months ago, "I just didn't know you were married together."

"Yep." 

"What are we going to do when they come back with a warrant with the right name?" 

"Well this is where it gets risky. Hopefully they'll realise that they need to reevaluate the case, and from there they'll either realise that he never had a trial or that he was framed. Either way will work just fine for me, but the risk is in if they actually bother to look. But I wouldn't worry about it, we should hear before one of them happens and be able to plan for it." 

"Not complaining, but I think you're setting a bad example," Harry said, amused. 

"What? How am I setting a bad example? I'm teaching you how to follow the letter of the law and to take care of the ones you love." 

"Mostly you're teaching me how to break the law." 

James gaped at him. "I most certainly am not! Sirius," he said when he came into the room, "I'm not setting a bad example, am I?" 

Sirius looked at James, then Harry, then back. "Er, no?" 

"You're a filthy traitor," James accused with fake severity, walking over to give him a hug. 

"He's teaching me how to break the law," Harry informed Sirius, jumping into the hug happily. 

"Oh James, how could you. Woe is me. A criminal son following in his criminal father's footsteps. I will never survive from this shock to my composure." In a more serious voice, he said, "Haz, why don't you go finish writing that letter to Ron?" 

"Alright," he said, holding on for another few seconds. 

In a quiet tone, just to make sure that Harry didn't overhear, Sirius said, "You shouldn't lie to him." 

"It was just some teasing." 

"Not that. The part where you keep convincing him that I'm going to get my name cleared." 

"You are." 

"Great, you're delusional," Sirius muttered. 

James hugged him again, tighter this time. 

"What are you doing?" 

"You're making me sad, so you're getting a hug until I feel better. Normally I would do it until you feel better, but you're awfully resilient to being happy." 

"I'm not resilient to being happy," Sirius mumbled. 

"The fact that you honestly think that makes it so much worse." James tilted his head to the side and kissed Sirius's cheek. Sirius was good with the occasional, quick kiss and hugs now. He had stopped trying to run out of bed before James woke up, so that was an improvement. Everything else physical was still miles away, but James didn't mind. Mostly what he minded was that Sirius wasn't happy. He'd been like this after a summer with his family, and each time he came back for a new year at Hogwarts was like working from scratch. This was the same as that, only times one hundred since Sirius hadn't had any breaks in between and he'd been in Azkaban. "I love you." 

Sirius swallowed thickly, enough that James could heart it happen. "I erm. I do too. For you. Y'know?" 

"Yeah sweetheart, I know." James kissed his cheek again, then let go, beaming at him with a brightness he didn't necessarily feel. "Let's try making cookies again, I think we almost got it last time." 

*

Sirius grinned at James, scooping him up in a hug that made James's feet lift off the floor. James laughed and held on, knowing from experience that if he didn't, he'd get flung around. "Is it just me, or does the air smell sweeter now that I am officially, completely free?" 

"Hmm." James sniffed at the air. "I think the air's sweeter." 

Sirius kissed him, set him on the ground gently, then kissed him again. "Thanks for sticking with me." 

"Any time," James said, completely meaning it. 

"And thanks for forcing me to have some human contact so I'd feel better." 

James's smile widened. "Any time." 

"I can't believe you never gave up on me," Sirius muttered, resting their foreheads together. 

"I can't believe you thought I ever could." 

"You literally came back from the dead to take care of me. You have to admit, that's a whole new level of protective." 

"You're worth it." 

Angel of Song, Ichie - Bond Stories

Videos: Part 1, Part 2

Translation below the cut!

Today's an Exciting Day

????: Nfufu...Don't notice, don't notice... Ichie: Waaah☆ Ichie: Ahahaha! Were you surprised? Did I scare you half to death? Ichie: Well, if you were surprised that's what matters most~ Yep. Ichie: Nah, I saw your defenseless back so I did it just ‘cause! Just. ‘Cause. ☆ Ichie: Eh? "You seem even more energetic than usual"? It's not just that, haven't you noticed? Ichie: Come on~! That day's coming up soon~ Ichie: Okay, then I'll tell you in the form of a quiz! I'll keep giving you hints and when you've figured it out, you can answer! Ichie: For the first one...ummm...okay. Let's go with "the palest of days". Ichie: Ah, maybe that's not enough to figure it out? Fufufu☆ Ichie: Next, the second hint! It's a day for returning Valentine's. Ichie: Third hint! It's a sweets day that actually originated in Japan! Ichie: And finallyyyy, the last hint! March! Fourteenth!! Ichie: Do you have the answer now? Thinking time, start! Ichie: Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick...tick...tick...tick...tick... Ichie: Haah! Haah! I-I'm suffocating here! Answer already~☆ Ichie: ---That's correct! The answer is White Day☆ Ichie: Eeh, you knew the answer from the first hint!? Geez! Don't tease me like that~! Ichie: Uu~ But! White Day's so exciting~☆ Ichie: The expectation for Valentine's is chocolate, but for White Day you can basically do anything, right? Ichie: And when you're talking about being free to do anything, that means it's Ichie-chan's turn! Ichie: "You're wrong"!? Nice retort! Ichie: Ah, but, y'know. It's only recently that White Day became exciting for me~ Ichie: There's exactly one month between Valentine's and White Day so that you can give something in return, right? Ichie: But, when I was little we used to move around a lot~ There was one time we moved before I was able to give something in return. Ichie: Even the next year and the year after, it became a time when I kept thinking about how I couldn't give her anything. Ichie: But, y'know! Now that my parents jobs have settled, I can't help being excited about White Day! Ichie: So that's why I'm in such high spirits this year! Ichie: Oh, huh~? Why are you making that sad face? Come on~ I said it's an exciting day now☆ Ichie: Besides, when I think back on it, I can just say 'thank goodness the moving days are over', y'know~? Ichie: I wonder why I'm remembering this now. It must be because I'm such a diligent person just like back then! Ichie: There it is, that retort! When I say 'mountain', you say 'river', almost like we're exchanging passwords, amazing~☆ Ichie: Oookay, thanks to all your retorts, I have a full tank of fighting spirit! Ichie: Ehehe... Now it feels like I can think up all sorts of ways to surprise everyone! Ichie: Tamao and Fumi and Rui and Yuyuko, I'm gonna etch unforgettable White Day memories for them all~! Ichie: Eh? Me? Ichie: I forgot! And myself while I'm at it, too! Tehehe☆

A Discussion of Ichie's Pranks

Fumi: The Performance Department's activities from now on, huh? True, we'll have to make a decision on them. Tamao: To start, can I hear your opinion? Fumi: Sure... This is just an example, but we could do something to increase recognition of Rinmeikan's Performance Department... Fumi: How about doing some sort of PR campaign? Tamao: A PR campaign... Like performing a play that only we could do in various locations? Fumi: Yes. For example, we could reach out to city or district events and--- Fumi: Hyaah!? Wh-What? Tamao: ...! F-Fumi? What's wrong? Ichie: Nehehe♪ Ichie: This here's a super ice-cold bottle. Feels good on the back of the neck, don't it☆ Fumi: Why... Ichie: Why? Fumi: Why, youuu! Ichieee! Ichie: Now, now. Don't get mad☆ Fumi: You did it precisely to make me mad, didn't you!? Ichie: How dreadful, Fumi-sama has been bothered~! I present this in utmost apology! Fumi: Orange juice...? Tamao: Oh, is the other one for me, perhaps? Ichie: Yep! You two've been talking this whole time, you must be tired, right? Go on, drink up! Fumi: ...This bottle isn't rigged, is it? Ichie: It's fine, it's fine♪ You're thinking too much♪ Tamao: Well, then... Fumi: Stop, Tamao! It'll explode for sure! Ichie: It wont!? Fumi: A clear bottle without a label, filled with orange juice? It's too suspicious! Tamao: ............ (drinking) Tamao: It's just regular tasty orange juice, though... Ah! Tamao: I can make out some letters...! You wrote something on it with an orange marker. Ichie: You noticed? Come on, drink the rest! If you don't you'll never find out what it says, y'know~☆ Fumi: Don't make her chug it. Fumi: It's just a stupid prank like always, right? Fumi: If it can't be helped, I'll do it. I'm pretty thirsty, too, you know? Fumi: Glug, glug, glug! Ichie: Ooh~ Fumi-sama, nice drinkin'! Fumi: Phew. Now, that's how it's do--...Huh? Tamao: Look, Fumi. On the side of the bottle. It says, "Thanks for everything!" Ichie: It's not good to always be frowning, you two! Smile, smile! Ichie: Later☆ Fumi: Honestly... At least make it clear whether it's a prank or a pick-me-up. Tamao: Isn't it both? That's surely Ichie's own form of kindness. Fumi: Geez... Even if you say that, this bottle's just going to be thrown away...

OC interview thingy @jahaliel did. She's always doing fun OC things, and I wanted to do this one too :D RULES 1. PICK ONE OF YOUR CHARACTERS 2. FILL IN THE QUESTIONS/STATEMENTS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE THE MUSE. 3. TAG PEOPLE TO DO THIS MEME: No - unless you see this and want to. I choose my half-orc cleric Arusha, from one of my dnd campaigns. 1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? Arusha Lewette. Why are you yelling? 2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? Uhhhh..... Still- it's still Arusha. Am I supposed to have more names? 3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT? Oh well you know my surname is my family's and I guess... uh... because my parents liked the name Arusha? I've never really- I mean it's my name it's just... Just shut up. About my name. 4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? There's only one of me. And taken whoere? 5. HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS? Well I'm a cleric of Yuban so I can heal, and I can hit things pretty good, and um. I guess I'm a decent cook? 6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE. ...I'm- I'm not married? I don't even know anyone named Sue. Was this a question? 7. WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR? *About a minute goes by with Arusha frowning. It's kind of awkward. She picks up her shield, polishes some of the grime off, and squints at her blurry reflection* ...green. 8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR? I dunno it's just kinda... brown. Like dirt. 9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? Yeah. 10. OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS? Well see i travel a lot and thats not really a good environment for keeping a pet and... *Arusha lectures the interviewer for about 10 minutes on responsible pet ownership* 11. NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. *Another long pause, wherein Arusha frowns and crosses her arms, looking both very serious and kind of scary* When my friends get hurt. That's bad, I don't like that. I can fix it but it's still not fun. Also whenever I see someone doing something unsafe, like lifting heavy objects without stretching first, or running head first towards an enchanted ghost drum, or *Arusha lists off 17 progressively more dangerous things* *another moment goes by, and she nods decisively* Also yams. They're gross. 12. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING? I like...healing. And drinking. And studying. Also organizing, that's very calming. 13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? Okay well y'see I'm a cleric, right? So like, my job is to do... sort of the opposite... of that. *Arusha scratches her nose and looks kind of grumpy* But I'll still stab someone if they're an asshole. 14. EVER…KILLED ANYONE BEFORE? *Arusha glowers at the interviewer, who swallows nervously and grins with what they hope is reassurance and not terror. She puffs out her cheeks like a pouting child and cracks her knuckles absently* Like I said. Stabbing. Assholes. 15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? I'm a half-orc. We're people. *glowering intensifies* You got a problem with orcs, buddy? 16. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. *A pause, followed by a contrite look. Arusha fiddles with the holy symbol she wears around her neck* Uh... my temper, maybe. Probably. And... Y'know... sometimes I don't think stuff through. 17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL? Uh, well, I'm taller than most of my friends. My mom's taller than me though. And Solarys, she's taller than me. 18. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? *Arusha blinks owlishly and seems to be at a complete loss. A blush spreads across her cheeks and down her neck. It's kind of endearing. Then she blurts out the dictionary definition of all these terms, as well as demographic statistics relevant to the subject. She won't make eye contact and drinks an entire cup of tea before continuing* 19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? *She seems much more comfortable with this subject, and smiles broadly* I did! The main temple of Yuban has a... well it's not a university because you gotta be an initiate so it's not really open to the public but they teach you all about the holy word of Yuban, and about healing, and like... some art stuff and math, and *Arusha rambles happily about the courses she took, going into detail about the cadaver lab with a cheerfulness that unsettles the interviewer* 20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY? Uh... well... I uh... gosh I wouldn't be a really good mom. And I don't- I mean why would anyone- I'm kind of- Who would put up- ...no. Just. No. 21. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS? *Arusha stares blankly at the interviewer for 5 full minutes. They move on* 22. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? *Arusha grasps her holy symbol and stares off into a middle distance, looking unhappy* ...not being enough. Not -doing- enough. 23. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? Eh... *glances down at her scale mail armor* 24. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? Well yeah. I love a lot of people. My family, my friends, my Beautiful Golden Dragon God Yuban... 25. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF? *squints suspiciously* ...is this one of those kink things? Izzy told me about those. She had to explain it didn't mean the same thing as like... a kink in your shoulder. She and Wine were blushing the whole time. I gather it's an embarrassing topic for some people and that there's something called kinkshaming. The world is a very strange place sometimes. 26. WELL, IT’S NOT OVER YET! What? 27. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS) I'm a cleric. 28. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? *Spends the next hour happily talking about her traveling companions, who are, apparently, her only friends* 29. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? Uh... it's tasty and versatile. 30. FAVORITE DRINK? I like Wine. *A moment passes, Arusha snorts and then giggles* Wine! Ahahahaha it's a pun! I made a pun! 31. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE? I liked the peace of the temple back home. It was kinda small and homely but, y'know you could really feel it was a place of healing. But I also really like being on the road, because my friends are there. 32. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? ...like... investigating... them? 33. WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY? Uh... *she seems baffled* Who's Willy? 34. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? *Arusha spends the next 5 minutes going over swimming safety and how to protect yourself from heatstroke* 35. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? I'm- I'm a half-orc. I already- I said that. At the- in the beginning. 36. ANY FETISHES? ...yeah okay this one is definitely about those kink things. 37. SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE? *a range of emotions cross her face; confusion, annoyance, mild anger, and finally she settles on a stern authoritative look* If you keep asking me these weird questions I'm going to shame your kink. 38. CAMPING OR INDOORS? *She shrugs noncommittaly* I do both on a fairly regular basis. It is kind of nice to have a bed. And running water that isn't a stream. 39. ARE YOU WANTING THIS QUIZ TO END? Well it IS almost dinner time and to be quite honest I'm not sure where my friends got to so I need to go find them. Good luck with your... blog. *Arusha stands and grabs her pack, then stops, frowning, and looks back at the interviewer, who smiles nervously* ...you're sure that's not a disease? *the interviewer assures her, for probably the 6th time, that a blog was not a disease, it was a publication* ...maybe I should give you a once over just to be sure, it sounds like some kind of horrible cold. *The interviewer thanks her profusely for her time and flees. Arusha blinks, then shrugs*

slayer of stars

Twenty years ago today, I came down the hill from my History 101 course with my brain a-whirring, made my way to the computer lab in the dungeon basement of my dorm, logged onto Usenet [1], and posted the following to alt.fan.wedge:

Subject: SW and animism From: Kristy <…@uidaho.edu> Date: 1997/08/28 Message-ID: <[email protected]> Newsgroups: alt.fan.wedge

Okay, I just got back from my History of Western Civilization class, and I have to vent. It’s no secret that GL got his ideas from other cultures and traditions. So it wasn’t too surprising when my teacher(who’s pretty awesome, IMO) was explaining animism today, he used SW as an example. (it sure made taking notes a lot easier. ::g::) Animists believe that the universe is alive, i.e., the Force is there. And they have shamans who are basically Jedi knights. I identified with evrything he was saying until he got to explaining their general classes of gods. Here’s what they have: the old father god, the young warrior god, the young goddess of war/love, and the trickster. There were parallels here to SW: trickster=Han Solo, wise father=Obi-Wan, goddess=Leia. But my teacher went on and on about how the young warrior was the coolest of all, he went off and fought battles and monsters and all the cool stories were about him. So who else would he choose for the SW parallel but Farm Boy. Bleah! I _almost_ went up to him after class and protested. Farm Boy isn’t the coolest warrior! _Wedge_ is, of course!

Yet another example of the oppression Wedge fans suffer at the hands of Farm Boy…. ::sigh:: Well, he’s guaranteed I’ll remember _that_ part of the lecture.

How about: Vote Wedge. He’s the true animist warrior god.

Thank you for listening, you’re the only people who would ever understand. :-)

–Kristy [2], off to an astronomy lab

Palpatine’s dead. Vote Wedge. –Antilles/Celchu ‘00–

From such humble [?!] beginnings was the True Animist Warrior God movement born. (Some time later I printed out a post signed with the TAWG [3] campaign slogan and taped said slogan onto my history notebook.)

This was not to bag on the history course. It was only the second day, as far as I can tell from my notes [4]. I had wanted to take the honors section of the course, but it wouldn’t fit in the schedule of other classes I was taking [5]. It turns out that I don’t regret this, as I very much enjoyed the class. It was actually taught by a graduate student, IIRC, and he was very good; he described many events in a human context with the emotions and motivations of the players. [6] Really, the worst thing about the course was that it was at 7 am—a less than ideal way, shall we say, to start college [7]. (Oh my TAWG, I’m going absolutely berserk with the footnotes! My brain keeps going off on tangents, but I don’t want to interrupt myself all the time. wheeee!)

(Interestingly, the next semester I continued on with Hist 102, which this time was taught by a professor. Who wasn’t nearly as interesting as the grad student!)

According to my heading for the Animism post in the Classic Threads section of the AFW website [8], I previously linked Star Wars to the Sumerian epic Gilgamesh–where Farmboy was Gilgamesh, taking all the credit, and Wedge was Enkidu, doing all the work. I think now this might be a little revisionist history. I can’t remember in which course I read Gilgamesh, but it’s likely that it was Lit of Western Civ that same semester (high school Senior AP English was British lit, where we watched every Jane Austen movie Ever Made *gag*). The earliest post of mine I can find referencing the two was actually the *next* week or so, in the midst of the Epic, Historical “Fantasy Toys” Thread, in response to Quiara:

> We understand you, dear. Where else could I admit to writing a Hero > essay about him in the same year that I did a book report on Rogue > Squadron?

I really want to write my Lit of Western Civ essay on the parallels between Gilgamesh/Enkidu and Luke/Wedge, but I could never get four pages out of that and have my teacher actually like it. ::pout:: [9]

Both of these posts were commenting on what I felt (still do feel, to some extent) was a sad state of affairs in being a WedgeFan. Namely, that Wedge was a lot cooler than most people give him credit for. (And, underlying that feeling, a WedgeFan’s natural disdain for Luke “Farmboy” [10] Skywalker.) This would reach its fannish culmination in the Book of Wedge, but had real-world significance in the woeful lack of a separate carded Wedge Antilles action figure. As well as the lack of Wedge awareness among those who weren’t huge pilotfans.

Despite that, 1997 was a fantastic year to be a WedgeFan. Maybe if you weren’t Quiara, Brett, or myself, it was different—we three were quite chatty—but I never heard anyone complain. ;-) [11] It wasn’t actually our most active year, but it was the beginning of what I think of as the “golden years” of AFW. The first four X-Wing books (by Historian of Wedge Michael A. Stackpole) had been released by January 1997, and Mike actually lurked and occasionally even posted. I joined in the spring of 1997 as a senior in high school (with a very embarassing post which will not be reproduced here). Quiara was in high school. Brett wasn’t being challenged too much by work or life, because he also apparently had a lot of time on his hands. Somehow the three of us had some mojo (and also probably high blood sugar content) that just led to wacky hijinks. Quiara declared Wedge’s candidacy for President in April, a story which would last well *past* the 2004 election. I declared him TAWG in August. The Fantasy Toys thread was started earlier in August, thus cementing me into the AFW madness and keeping me frequently posting even when I probably should have been paying attention to college. (eh. I gradutated.) The “the world is falling down…” thread was that year, too.

Of all the Internet friends I have, interestingly it’s Quiara and Brett whom I’ve never met in real life. I actually haven’t heard from Quiara in years; she dropped off the radar at about the time she started college, I think, thus proving her work (study) ethic. ;-) I can’t say I really knew her all that well—AFW was almost exclusively the limit of our interaction—but I still consider her to have been an early partner in crime. I still hear from Brett occasionally, and I actually can’t believe I haven’t found myself visiting his city before now. Brett holds a special place in my memory not only for being such an integral part of that first crazy year on AFW, but also for scoring me the Wedge action figure I like to call “biceps Wedge”–the one from the Milennium Falcon carrying case, which his comics store was selling loose for some reason.

Resorting again to Google Groups (we never know, when we’re making history, that we are doing so, and as such fail to keep track of these things), it looks like I first styled myself Prophet Kristy on October 8, 1997, in a short thread titled “Random Thoughts.” [12] Quiara, bless her heart, actually accused me of being humble:

> –Kristy, Prophet of the Great One

Just a prophet? you could make Cardinal at least, if you wanted.

(Yeah, maybe I could have—I am Catholic, after all—but, y'know, “Prophetess” works better on the back of a kickball shirt that “Cardinal”. “-ess.” Er, see what I mean?)

One month later (AFAICT) I first signed a post as “Prophet Kristy”–and the rest, as they say, is history.

I could go on and on with the AFW nostalgia——but I should probably get to work on actual, you know, work. And this is getting LONG. However, I do want to mention one other thing in relation to the TAWG / Prophetess thing.

The Book of Wedge was my default icon on LiveJournal—a little cartoon made by terrathree, originally for Terra Group, that she kindly made 100x100 when I started LJing. I didn’t actually come up with the idea for the Book of Wedge—the document I wrote was largely an adaptation from “The Adventures of Wedge Antilles” written by Mike Scorsch and posted on his late web page Corellian Bloodstripes. I’d always been greatly amused by the idea of revisionist SW history with Wedge being the person behind *everything*–especially having Wedge actually blow the first DS as well as the second. Having declared myself a Prophet, I also felt it was only fair that I write a Holy Book. Thus was born the Book of Wedge, wherein Wedge not only blows up both Death Stars, but also shoots Greedo, fights off the Slave I with a blaster, and generally saves the day. In it, I declared Quiara and Brett to be Apostles of Wedge along with Jim and Marji, two others who were in the thick of AFW in late 1997. And generally had a blast being silly and fangirly.

Quiara followed this up with the Book of Quiara, a short history of the campaign and other silliness. And much later, terrathree expanded on an observation I’d made about the constellation Orion looking like an X-wing and wrote the tale of the Hunter of the Sky.

These are only a few of the many, many tales of Wedge spawned by AFW, but they are the Holiest. So sayeth the Prophetess of the Great One, Wedge Antilles, the True Animist Warrior God. *makes the Sign of the Exploding Death Star*

I imagine our old IRC chat server probably doesn’t even exist anymore (is IRC even still a thing??)–Feast Days used to always be Chat Days–but have a good Feast Day of Wedge, won’t you all? Do the Ewok Dance, drink some Ewok Juice, bag on Farmboy, and revel in the glory of the Rebellion’s Greatest Starpilot.

[1]=Yeahhhhhh, Usenet. Back in the day. [2]=As you see, I didn’t self-identify then as Prophetess; that was to come later. Wow, I’d forgotten I used to use my fanfic Knave Leader and the ASCII parked X-wing in my .sig. Nifty. [3]=I’m almost positive that Morwen was the one to coin that acronym. Once again showing us all up with her mad language skillz, especially considering this isn’t her native tongue. [4]=yes, I’m enough of a nerd that I’ve kept my freshman history notes. [5]=probably this was a good thing, since I was taking the honors sections of Chemistry 111 AND English <memfault—Literature of Western Civilization>. [6]=I haven’t been able to turn him up by Googling, but I hope he found himself a faculty position somewhere; he deserves it. [7]=I cordially loathe all those students who boast of arranging their schedules to never start before 10 or 12. I was never able to do that—there was always a class I needed that was a 7:30 or 8 or 8:30. Pout. [8]=Yeah, I know it’s gone. It needs a new server space. And its webmistress needs to pay attention to it. I’ll just have to link to Google posts here. [9]=It looks like I had dropped the Knave Leader by this time, but was still not calling myself Prophet Kristy. [10]=How much do I love that Mara always calls him Farmboy? [11]=Oh, no, that came much later, spurring the Project Boussh Polite Flame War of '01(?). [12]=this was also apparently the thread that spawned the phrase “rakish rebel scum”, which Brett quickly hailed as a great band name. And it was only a 7 post thread! aaah, for the time to just read and relive the posts of those years.