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#milk absentia
milktrician · 9 months
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can't believe i forgot to post this short comic of the end of Poly and Gin's story i did a while back. working on another one from Gin's pov of what's about to happen to him atm and was just reminded of this one
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vr2 · 1 month
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i had to use the new stupid ncsoft launcher and all my account logins were on a diff site and none of my online logins worked in-browser but they worked fine in the stupid launcher and it was so cancerously long to install and the experience was so shit and its optimized like a bell telephone clearly technology hasnt advanced enough to put bns on steam BUT we have a reverse male bunny suit in the game now so maybe you win some, you lose some.
this is truly the blade and soul experience
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Day whatever the hell we're on now! 330, apparently. Which is an hour before the cat woke me up by screaming in my ear because he was out of food and water. Which, fair, that's a good reason to scream, but at 4:30 am and in my ear?! Jerk cat.
Anyway, Disgusted got redone and I'm happy enough with it that it's now inked and has the beginnings of color worked out! Tomorrow I'll finish that up, and then some time after that I'll figure out what to do with Shocked/Surprised and Silly.
Also, I made food!
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I had a spare sweet potato and needed to use the last pound of beef from a 3lb tube of it I'd been using for Hamburger Helper beef stroganoff. Also included is creamed corn, beef ramen, garlic powder, onion powder, onion salt because I ran out of onion powder and it needed more salt anyway, black pepper, and soy sauce. It turned out tasty, but it also didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. If I do this again, I think next time I'm gonna cook the sweet potatoes first, then the beef, use beef broth instead of water to actually cook the things in, and add in some nice Parmesan cheese. Or I may just do it as a risotto; maybe fresh onion instead of powder will tie everything together better. Either way, I liked the taste and learned a couple things about cooking beef with sweet potatoes! Yay, me!
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boundinparchment · 1 year
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Deus in Absentia - I
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The first time was a coincidence. The second time was a fluke. But the third time? You were starting to think it was fate. Or, more likely, a calculated trap. Reposted from my previous blog, @/zhonglis-empty-wallet AO3
The first time was a coincidence.
The second time was a fluke.
But the third time? You were starting to think it was fate.
Or, more likely, a calculated trap.
Why was the Harbinger coming to your bookstore? Why this Harbinger? Didn’t he have servants for this sort of thing? All of the others Fatui leaders sent in their orders via mail or proxy agent; not him. He left his lackies outside, either as a display, or because he didn't care one way or the other if they suffered the brutality of the Sneznhayan climate.
Il Dottore took hours. Every. Single. Time. Which normally wouldn’t matter. You were more than happy when any other customer did so. Granted, that too was occasionally frustrating (you owned a bookstore, not a library, it bit into your margin if they finished reading and never purchased); but the Second Harbinger terrified the rest of the shoppers. Many were willing to go right back into the Sneznhayan cold at the sight of him.
And that hurt your profit margin way more than loitering readers.
Not enough that your landlord and vendors wouldn’t be paid, of course. The Harbinger compensated for the inconvenience. Or, rather, the Ninth did so on Dottore’s behalf a few days later. It always worked out.
But there was always a price to businesses that caught Fatui eyes for too long. Most would see it as honorable; serving the Tsaritsa in any way was the highest form of honor in the land of ice and snow. Even if it meant…
A slam of a book being shut stole your thoughts. You weren’t alone, you shouldn’t get so distracted. Especially with him around.
He seemed frustrated by something. Red eyes were staring at the books in front of him as he ran his fingers through his hair, his hands stopping instead to fist around teal locks for a moment.
Besides his rank and the whispers about his experiments, his temper was what most remembered about him. He hated interruptions, any break in his train of thought if he didn’t ask for it specifically.
You weren’t sure what possessed you but when you stepped away from the counter to make tea in the back room, you found yourself pouring a second cup. And then putting it on a tray (a remnant from the previous store owner), and offering a small collection of the usual fixings of milk, sugar, and honey. At the last second, you threw in the last of the cookies that a customer sent in as a thank you (their order required a six month lead time and you’d had to go all the way to Liyue and back to get it personally).
You slid the tray onto the table that Dottore had taken as his dominion in your shop and walked away without a word.
It was a stupid move. What had you been thinking? You may as well have offered your own head on a silver platter (if you had one). Most Harbingers would think you were trying to poison them.
And that was certainly what Dottore must have been thinking when you caught him watching you as you took inventory.
It was unprompted, not asked for.
But anticipated.
You were good at that. Whether it was books or not. You had a knack for knowing what someone else might need.
Dottore clicked his tongue, a sound that traveled further than he likely meant it to, as he muttered something you didn’t understand. Not uncommon. The Harbingers were from all over Teyvat and there was more than just the Common tongue.
You rolled your shoulders and set to work unpacking boxes. These books wouldn’t check themselves in. You were still unpacking hours later, stacks of books surrounding you, sorted by genre.
“I’ll be taking these.”
The voice, always deeper than expected, startled you. You rose too quickly and whacked your head on the counter. The Harbinger was unamused, the visible corner of his mouth pressed into a firm line.
“I’ll also be requiring these,” a gloved hand held out a list, folded once.
You took it as you soothed your throbbing head. A curious part of you wanted to unfold the note and take a peek but the way Dottore’s eyes narrowed told you to wait until he was gone.
He was buying a larger stack than last time, if memory served. The titles were unfamiliar, probably books that you’d ordered on a whim or inherited from the previous owner. So much of your business was a constant juggle between your own touches and an inventory that was there when you signed the lease.
Before you could even give him the total, he placed down a sizable bag of mora onto the counter, the coins jingling.
“That should cover everything. I’ll be back next month for the rest.”
He scooped up the books with ease, expression unreadable. Even without the mask, you got the feeling that he was typically unreadable to begin with. Just as Dottore opened the door to leave, he turned and said:
“And thank you for the tea.”
The Harbinger left without another a word. The poor underling who accompanied him was left with the task of carrying the good doctor's purchases, the sheer weight of the stack of books catching them off-guard. Perhaps a newbie.
A quick glance at the table told you that his thanks had been, at least in part, genuine. The cup was empty, as was the plate.
Later that night, long after closing and after curiosity gnawed at your stomach for the better part of the day, you unfolded the list burning a hole in your pocket.
Obscure titles, specific editions, things that sounded as if they would have been collected by the Akademiya's library and hidden away. You'd never heard of these titles before and their length alone was indicative of their scholarly nature.
These would take more than a month to research, let alone acquire.
An impossible task.
Your stomach sank.
For the Fatui, no task was impossible.
Impossible came at a cost.
And everything had a price.
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facepeeled · 9 months
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continued from here | @spookyagentfmulder
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she'd been talking mostly to herself, lost in thought and eyes locked on the side of a milk carton in the cooler: a black and white photo of a young blonde in her cheerleader uniform, age fifteen, last seen in the back of a red pickup outside ozark public library. missing eight months. cricket knew the girl was long dead. when people in this town disappeared, they never came back. not even in a body bag. the cemetery was full of gravestones with no coffins beneath them, memorials. in absentia, they called it. stupid, she thought.
the man in front of her hadn't even been in her periphery, when he spoke it startled her and she jumped a little. he looked professional, grey suit and trenchcoat, head held high, and then she clocked the gun on his hip. a pig. the last man she wanted attention from. "uh-- this girl," she said, struggling for words. she tapped the glass with her knuckle, pointing out the missing poster. "she's the fourth one in the last year." she didn't offer anymore, not that she knew anything. she punctuated the sentence with a shrug of one shoulder, and hoped to god she didn't reek of meth. spending the night in jail would be a real fucking bummer.
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mykidself · 9 months
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96 Albums I listened to, and was deeply into or deeply impacted by, age 5-18, in (roughly) chronological order. Made with Topsters.
List of artists and album titles behind the cut.
1. The Beatles - With The Beatles
2. Peter Gabriel - Shaking the Tree
3. Various Artists - The Lion King
4. Elton John - Elton John's Greatest Hits
5. Original London Cast - Phantom Of The Opera
6. Hanson - Middle Of Nowhere
7. The Wallflowers - Bringing Down The Horse
8. Smash Mouth - Astro Lounge
9. Sugar Ray - 14:59
10. Third Eye Blind - Third Eye Blind
11. Third Eye Blind - Blue
12. Vertical Horizon - Everything You Want
13. Green Day - Dookie
14. blink-182 - The Mark, Tom And Travis Show
15. Built to Spill - Keep It Like a Secret
16. Our Lady Peace - Clumsy
17. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Californication
18. Foo Fighters - The Colour and the Shape
19. Nirvana - Nevermind
20. Goo Goo Dolls - Dizzy Up the Girl
21. Limp Bizkit - Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water
22. Linkin Park - Hybrid Theory
23. Papa Roach - Infest
24. Staind - Break the Cycle
25. Alien Ant Farm - Anthology
26. Sum 41 - All Killer No Filler
27. P.O.D. - Satellite
28. System of a Down - Toxicity
29. Howard Shore - The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
30. System of a Down - System of a Down
31. Staind - Dysfunction
32. R.E.M. - Automatic for the People
33. Jimmy Eat World - Bleed American
34. Sum 41 - Does This Look Infected?
35. System of a Down - Steal This Album!
36. blink-182 - Take Off Your Pants and Jacket
37. Tool - Lateralus
38. Tool - Ænima
39. Tool - Undertow
40. Deftones - White Pony
41. Evanescence - Fallen
42. 36 Crazyfists - Bitterness the Star
43. A Perfect Circle - Thirteenth Step
44. A Perfect Circle - Mer De Noms
45. Porcupine Tree - In Absentia
46. dredg - El Cielo
47. Pink Floyd - The Dark Side Of The Moon
48. Pink Floyd - The Wall
49. Radiohead - Kid A
50. Depeche Mode - Violator
51. Opeth - Blackwater Park
52. Opeth - Damnation
53. Opeth - Deliverance
54. The Ataris - So Long, Astoria
55. The Ataris - Blue Skies, Broken Hearts...Next 12 Exits
56. The Ataris - End Is Forever
57. Box Car Racer - Box Car Racer
58. Jimmy Eat World - Clarity
59. The Early November - The Room's Too Cold
60. Further Seems Forever - The Moon is Down
61. Finch - What It Is to Burn
62. Thursday - War All The Time
63. Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Love Bad News
64. Staind - 14 Shades of Grey
65. Bright Eyes - Lifted or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground
66. Bright Eyes - Fevers and Mirrors
67. Elliott Smith - XO
68. Elliott Smith - Either/Or
69. Radiohead - Hail to the Thief
70. Radiohead - The Bends
71. Coheed and Cambria - In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3
72. Coheed and Cambria - The Second Stage Turbine Blade
73. Queen - Greatest Hits
74. The Decemberists - Picaresque
75. The Decemberists - Castaways and Cutouts
76. The Decemberists - Her Majesty the Decemberists
77. Jonathan Larson - Rent
78. The Dresden Dolls - The Dresden Dolls
79. Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous
80. AFI - Sing the Sorrow
81. Regina Spektor - Soviet Kitsch
82. Green Day - American Idiot
83. Jimmy Eat World - Futures
84. System of a Down - Hypnotize
85. System of a Down - Mezmerize
86. The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs
87. Nine Inch Nails - With Teeth
88. The Beatles - Love
89. Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
90. Arcade Fire - Funeral
91. Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism
92. Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank
93. Radiohead - OK Computer
94. Elliott Smith - Figure 8
95. Elliott Smith - From a Basement on the Hill
96. Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
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cannibalcreeps · 2 years
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I got 2 asks, what outsider foods/drinks have the hiliker/odets tried and liked and what would the brothers do if their s/o ventures into the city for periods of time, would they follow them? Also what ghost songs do you recommend, my favorite is square hammer.
Some good questions there!!
First of!! What food or drinks (that they haven’t made from the forest or people) have they tried and liked:
One-Eye: Definitely a sweet-tooth man, he will devour all the lollies, candies, chocolates and creams until he throws up. When he found out how a whip cream can works he would snatch that up so fast anytime victims ended up having them in their cars, which wasn’t often. Loves to just eat cereals dry, these boys don’t come across milk much and when they do it would never last long. 
For drinks he loves energy drinks but he feels like he’s going to die whenever he drinks too many and regrets it, doesn’t stop him from drinking them again whenever he comes across them. 
Three-Fingers: Another sweet-tooth of a man, the type to lick the frosting of cakes and give the base part to his brothers, how soft drinks (soda) haven’t rotted his teeth from his head is a mystery, on top of sweet foods he does prefer a good hearty meaty meal and gets excited whenever they take out a caravan that has stoked up meats and vegetables, time to make a good stew! 
Saw-Tooth: You’d never think it but the man actually enjoys fruits, simply just doesn’t have it a lot. The fruit he likes though are more like watermelon and strawberries, greens aren’t a big thing in these boys diet but he won’t say no to most as long as no ones asking him to eat a raw carrot, if there is going to be carrots and onions, it better be in a meaty, fleshy stew,
He hasn’t got a favourite drink really, but won’t say no to a beer with his brother Pa. 
All three of them would kill people for fried chicken though, fast food is like a god send to them. 
As for the second one about a s/o that travels of to cities for longs periods of times: 
That wouldn’t bode over well, being the boys are much too possessive, they would follow all the time, if the s/o likes it or not, else they don’t go and if they’re the type to go against the three’s brothers wishes will eventually cause them to consider if the s/o is worth the trouble keeping around. Plus cities are too far off from where they are, this habit would be killed off pretty quickly and the s/o will have to learn to deal with hiking around the local area if they dislike being in one area for too long.
Oh my, well I would definitely suggest:
Darkness at the heart of my Love, Spillaways, Con Clavi Con Dio, I’m a Marionette, Ghuleh/Zombie Queen, Monstrance Clock, Twenties, Per Aspera Ad Inferi, Deus In Absentia, GRIFTWOOD!!!, Mummy Dust, Mary on a Cross, Jigolo Har Megiddo and Cirice 
Every song they have created is amazing but I’m very fond of these the most.
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tangiblejournal56 · 11 months
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7/15/11
Yesterday’s very shitty day started pleasantly, deceptively so.  Texts throughout the night from Max (who else?) while I was fast asleep.  The last one at 7:30am, a drunken stream of consciousness along the lines of “I will die here if I’m not careful, so I’m laying on the kitchen floor drunk with a glass of milk,” to which I responded with an inquiry on how that was working out for him.  He answered, typos not withstanding, “Why are you up?”  Taking a small joy in his messaging me multiple times even when I’m not responding, how he thinks of me again & again in his night.  He then called me, informing me in a nervous tone that he was more drunk than usual, celebrating two whole days of sobriety.  Only Max, I thought, could commit an act so acutely ironic as that.  I told him he wasn’t allowed to die & leave me all alone here, I asked him to promise.  He said he couldn’t promise me that, no one could - always brutally honest, no matter what response is wanted.  He did add a caveat that he had no intentions of leaving me, his tongue thick from too much wine, mumbling “Isn’t that a nice sentiment though, really?  Would you prefer some bullshit ‘Oh I’ll never leave you, you’re my world, blah blah blah?’”  Exaggerating his tone like a wino Romeo, inadvertently expressing his silent feelings for me only allowed to surface in these drunken monologues.  That is not reading into more than what is there, if you know & understand Max.  He told me that he told Z of his plans to move to Portland with me.  I asked if he’d told his parents.  Silence, then “I’ll probably wait until later so they can’t talk me out of it,” a surprising clarity in his current state.  It seems he took seriously my worry that people would discourage him until he no longer believes it an option.  “Are you telling them it’s with me?” I inquired, hesitant.  “Do you think I shouldn’t?  They know we hang out, I’ve told them you’re the smartest person I know, one of my best friends, how you’re the only person who understands me,” he went on, surprising me that he’d even discuss me with them.  Not that he’s ashamed of me, but I’d figured he’d just avoid that opportunity for unpleasantness.  I asked what their reaction to this was.  “Silence,” he answered honestly.  I’d expected that, but didn’t expect that it would still sting.  Their disapproval of me, “She’s a lovely girl, just not for you,” I can hear them saying ever-so-delicately & politically correct in their archaic bourgeois snobbery.  How even in absentia they can always make me feel like Max is just playing “La Boheme” & I, his unfortunate match girl he found while going slumming.  Despite how he fights for me not to feel that way, he is never dishonest about their attitude on the subject of me.  Forever reaffirming my inferiority.
He went to bed & I napped a bit longer.  Glossing over the events of my ultra-shitty, David Lynch-surreal day, I came home to Jacob wanting me to swim with him.  I ceded, & he spent the duration trying to cheer me up out of my funk.  He even suggested Trivial Pursuit, which he never wants to play.  He got drunk & high, becoming that sweet, flirtatious boy with lively yes, dimples like my own but concealed beneath an inch or so of beard.  I am still in awe at how attracted I am to him any time outside of the bedroom, that inexplicable curiosity of chemical bodily reactions.  He made me laugh, telling me mischievously how he’d always thought Brooke horsey-looking, to which I responded “But you dated her for three years!”  He laughed, told me he thought everyone would make fun of him for dating someone so unattractive.  He’s such a question mark to me most of the time, taking me off my guard at every corner.  Surprising me with a request to listen to my jazz collection, & all of the parts of life he simply knows & understands, that I haven’t a clue about, like science & geography & anatomy, & his eagerness to explain them, his excitement that I’m such a willing audience.  Then his randomness & unexpected generosity, his wanting to buy me a camera on my next birthday, “you take too many pictures not to own one!”  When I protested against him purchasing something so expensive just for me, he became frustrated, “You always get me a gift, & you’ve made me all those cards!”  I argued that none of those things were worth a camera, & looking me in the eye very seriously, very sincerely, he said those cards were worth more than any camera, that the cards meant so much to him & he loved them.  I became shy from his intensity & had to look down at my lap for fear of blushing.
We sat outside until 2:30 in the morning reading Trivial Pursuit cards to each other, & I found myself again longing to kiss him for his sweetness, & wondering what it could be like if we were sexually compatible.  Though no force could put Max out of my mind, I am grateful that I can lounge comfortably in these harmless crushes on Jacob, as I know they will never amount to more than flirting & they keep me quite occupied & out of the depressions that stagnation of the senses causes me.
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skeptiquewrites · 3 years
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Microfic: Never Come Back
for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'my juliana' by iv of spades
You walked back into our house as if it hadn't been seven years. As if the case of your disappearance wasn't considered inactive. As if Hermione never said the words 'divorce in absentia'. Like you had taken too long to pick up milk.
They say time rifts are exceedingly rare.
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sockablock · 4 years
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in light of the truly heartwarming response I got to part one of this story, please enjoy: How To Build a Magic School, Chapter 2
It took a special kind of mind to follow the Mighty Nein’s conversations once they really got heated. It helped, at least, that they were seated in close proximity, sprawled across a ring of crates in the main tent, but the fact of the matter was that trying to pay attention to seven people all chiming in at once was already giving Essek a mild headache. And minor neck pain.
“—kind of disguise,” Veth was saying. “I know it’s been a couple years, but folks here…they might not be happy to see a…a...”
“A foreigner,” Fjord said, diplomatically.
“A Xhorhastian,” Yasha tried.
“A drow,” Essek came to their rescue. “No, she is right.”
There was a sharp and semi-affronted exhale from Jester. “Did you get any funny looks when you arrived? Did anyone say anything to you?”
“And do you remember which ones they were?” Caleb added quietly.
Essek hesitated, trying to remember, but through the bright haze of sunlight and hot summer, the furious clamor of construction outside—
“I…do not think anyone saw my arrival.”
“You’re wearing full black and carrying a pink umbrella,” Beau grunted. “Are you sure?”
He hesitated again. “Ah…no.”
“All sorts of interesting people have visited us since the school project started,” Caduceus said. In line with the conventions of his personal narrative, he was attempting to make tea over a tiny, portable burner. “You probably won’t be the strangest thing they’ve seen or will see, working here.”
“They’ve already seen Fjord—”
“Hey! That—why—”
“The people of Felderwin can be touchy though,” Veth continued, smugly ignoring Fjord. “I don’t really think you can blame them, either. If it wasn’t the goblin attacks for years before that, it was the, well, the huge invasion where a purple worm ate the ground and half the town caught on fire.”
She maintained eye contact with Essek as she said this. Her gaze intensified when he shrugged. 
“That is…fair enough,” Caleb cut in. “But I would feel…ill at ease to force you, Essek, to hide if you did, ah, did not wish to…”
Essek gestured vaguely at his appearance. “Actually, I had assumed I would be needing to disguise myself. I have masqueraded as a high elf before, and it would not be difficult to do so again.”
“Isn’t that a lot of spells wasted?” Fjord asked. “Won’t it be annoying to have to keep that up?”
“It’s not that hard,” said Veth, under her breath.
“Oh, oh, I could Polymorph you!” Jester clapped her hands together, enthused. “I can make you anything! You could be an elf, or a tiefling, or a firbolg or a—”
“I appreciate the offer,” Essek said smoothly, “but I do have a few resources at hand. A simple ring of illusion would do the trick.”
“What are we gonna say about you, though?” Beauregard asked. All heads turned toward her. “If the court wants to know about you, a random mage and one of the first hires of the magic school, what are we supposed to tell them?”
They considered this.
“He’s a…family friend?”
“Whose family?”
“Well, I’d like to think of us as a family—”
“Why don’t we say he’s from Nicodranas?” Jester suggested. “We could say he’s, um…oh! That he was recommended by Yussa!”
“Yussa?” Essek echoed.
“Actually…that doesn’t sound half-bad,” Fjord mused. “Master Yussa is a mage that the king recognizes, yes?”
“Ah, he is a mage?”
“He’s a friend of ours!” Jester beamed. “A super powerful wizard that lives in the Open Quay. He’s pretty powerful, Essek. Maybe even more powerful than you!”
This was delivered with a winning smile. Caleb sighed. “From what I gather, Master Yussa is much older, and has had quite a few lifetimes’ worth of practice. He is also…quite reclusive, and therefore not exactly what we had in mind for this school.
“And he said no,” Beauregard muttered.
“Yes, danke, and he also turned us down. The point is, we can pretend you are acquainted with him. That should be enough to assuage the court.”
“Will this…Master Yussa agree to such a thing?” Essek asked.
Caleb answer with a faint grin. “He is a wizard who feels he is…not so beholden to court pressures. Also, he owes us a favor, as is.”
Essek couldn’t help but match Caleb’s expression. “Is that so? Then I find I quite admire this man.”
“We saved him from the Happy Fun Ball,” Yasha supplied, a collection of syllables that no betting man would have ever predicted to come from her. “He likes us.”
“He loves us,” Jester corrected. “He has our Little Willi and his assistant Wensforth practically worships us and everything!”
After the pertinent information had been properly located, Essek nodded. “That is, er, lovely. I owe him my thanks.”
“Now we just gave to give you a new name,” said Veth. “I don’t think we can keep calling you ‘Thelyss,’ unless we want the idiots on the Committee getting suspicious.”
“The…excuse me?”
“The Arcane Restoration Supervisory Committee,” Caleb sighed, “is a group of concerned officials—”
“—nosy dillweeds—"
“—that was formed to manage—”
“—micromanage—”
“—to oversee our current rebuilding efforts. It is very likely,” he continued, giving Beau a look, “that this is the court’s way of reconciling with the fact that an unknown quantity has been handed the reigns of the Dwendalian Empire’s arcane future.”
“I know that,” Beau countered, “I just don’t like them.”
“Caleb is the unknown quantity,” Caduceus added.
“…I see,” said Essek, eventually. “Should I, ah, be concerned about them?”
“Probably not,” Beau said. “They’re just a bunch of nobles who think they understand the first thing about magic.”
“You being an expert on the subject, of course,” was what Essek did not say, because self-preservation interrupted just in time. Instead, what left his mouth was:
“I had also anticipated concern about my involvement—that is, Shadowhand Essek Thelyss’s involvement—in this matter. If necessary, I can masquerade as someone else. I, ah, will still need an umbrella during the daylight hours, though. Or perhaps a large hat?”
The elongated squeal from Jester atop the milk crate filled him with regret.
“What was the name you used last time?” Fjord asked. “Desden…Desbin…”
“‘Dezran Thain,’” Essek supplied. “Actually, I could employ that title again.”
“Uh…is that a good idea?” Veth asked. “Wasn’t Dezran a friend of the Assembly’s?”
Essek shook his head. “Strictly speaking, Thain was just a very minor lord that lived in Nicodranas. When the peace talks began, he was called upon by Da’leth to play tour guide and host due to his interest in magic and local familiarity. Only he, de Rogna, and Tversky knew who I really was.”
“It is…not bad, as far as our plans go,” Caleb said after a while. “It aligns with the story that you are Nicodranian, and it might actually sit well with the court members that had favored the Assembly. As for those who supported us against them…”
Beau rolled her eyes when Caleb’s gaze fell on her. “Yeah, yeah, an Expositor will vouch for him.”
“An Expositor?”
“Gods, fine, this Expositor.”
“Thank you.” Then he gave Essek a nod. “That about covers it then, ja? This story, we can tell the court, and then—"
“Wait, hang on—” And this was Beauregard again, leaning forward, staring directly at Essek.
“Yes?” he said.
“What did you tell your court?” she asked.
Mother had spoken to the Bright Queen alone. This was not technically out of the ordinary, as the Umavis of Rosohna frequently met to discuss state matters too selective for anyone else. But Essek was unused to being considered “anyone else,” which was why the situation still rankled, in his mind.
“Tell me again,” he turned to face his mother, floating clothes and books drifting past his head. “Is that all you said?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
At his still-annoyed expression, his mother sighed. “Yes, dear. I just told Leylas that this was a unique opportunity for you to integrate yourself within the Empire and gain ample information that would otherwise be inaccessible. We all saw how abruptly the war ended, and how quickly the Assembly seemed to fall afterwards. No one can blame her for being curious.”
A small inkwell drifted across the room as Essek resumed packing. “And then?” he prompted.
His mother sighed again.
“And then I reassured her Majesty that there were plenty of souls that could temporarily come together to fill the void you would leave behind—”
No doubt all from Den Thelyss, Essek thought.
“—and that even in absentia, you would still be serving as a valuable font of information for the Dynasty. Which, after all, is what the Shadowhand is meant to do. And of course, should it ever be required, you could always be called home.”
“…indeed.”
“Indeed,” his mother smiled. “Though, of course, this is all under the assumption that aside from your prospective employer, nobody else will know who you truly are.”
Essek gave this due consideration.
“I have a feeling that the rest of the Mighty Nein will be told, Mother.”
The Umavi of Den Thelyss was not an easy woman to read. Her expression gave nothing away as she said, “I see.”
“But,” Essek added, because he felt he needed to, “I don’t think anyone else has to know.”
She reached out slowly and plucked a mirror from the air.
“I have more faith in you than that, my dear. I am confident you will ensure it is so.”
“—temporary leave of absence,” said Essek, now, to the Mighty Nein. “I have been the Shadowhand for most of my life, and a diligent scholar of the nation before that. I was owed some vacation days.”
“Vacation days—” began Fjord.
“But how temporary?” asked Beau, cutting him off. “I thought it’d be hard for you—you know, as you said, the Shadowhand—to just up and leave, after all. How long can you stay here?”
Essek gave her a wry smile. “Fortunately, I expect my definition of ‘temporary’ is somewhat different than yours.”
“Longer,” said Caduceus.
“Longer,” he agreed. “It is very safe to assume that I can stay for at least a decade, if I wish.”
“And I certainly hope you do wish,” said Caleb quickly. “There are many things we will need to accomplish, after all, not just today during construction, but in the future. And, ah,” he added, a little more pointedly, “I do feel as if I should thank you again. For everything you have done for us, and now today in volunteering your expertise.”
“Man, we’re really going to need it,” Jester groaned, throwing herself back across the milk crate. “The Committee keeps telling us to go faster, hire this person, that person, build the school different—everything.”
“Really?”
Caleb chuckled. “Yes, but that all can be explained tomorrow,” he said. “For now, though,” and he stood, crouching to avoid the ceiling of the tent, “let me show you to where we are staying. I expect you must be tired, ja? If not by the travel, then at least the time difference.”
For just a moment, Essek thought about saying otherwise. But there was something in Caleb’s hopeful expression that made him pause.
He yawned very minutely, and smiled. “It would be nice to put my things away,” he admitted. “And, ah, perhaps have a short rest.”
“Of course, of course,” Caleb gestured to the door, but did stop to address the group at large. “I’m sure I’ll be back soon,” he added, “but if anyone needs me…Jester?”
She saluted cheerfully, for the spirit of it. “Got it!”
“And of course, Veth, you are the Professor in charge.”
This was answered with an expansive wave, and a grin.
“Of course, Headmaster! Leave everything to us!”
“So…Headmaster, eh?” One pair of footsteps—and then sheepishly, another—began to crunch through the freshly-dewed grass. All around them, spanning the entirety of the field, a legion of masons and stonecutters and workmen cut, sawed, hammered, and hefted the thick wooden frame of an enormous building in its first stages. A group of surveyors stood at the center, arguing as more lumber was lugged into view, directing the flow of Construction and Progress.
“Apparently so,” Caleb said, “though I have to admit, I am not quite used to that title yet.”
Something enormous soared overhead, momentarily blotting out the sun.
“Would you prefer Professor Widogast?”
Caleb sighed as the shadow vanished.
“I prefer ‘Caleb,’ to be truly honest.”
Essek chuckled. “Then for now at least, I will oblige.”
He glanced up as the next shadow approached, squinting to see in the bright morning light. After rubbing his eyes and blinking a few times, he could make out the shape of a massive carpet, carrying sacks of sand and brick.
“Spoils from the remnants of Soltryce,” Caleb explained, before Essek could ask. “We found quite a number of things in the basement of that school, some…well.” His expression went dark, and not just because of the shadow overhead. “Many of those things we managed to release. Some, ultimately, had to be destroyed.” But then he gestured to the enormous architectural undertaking around them and added in a lighter tone, “Some things, though, ended up being rather useful. Like the, ah, look, over there—”
Essek blinked again, and this time spotted what appeared to be twelve hulking stone statues, moving slowly between a line of workers. Each had gait like rock grinding on steel, and were lifting whole logs like they weighed nothing.
“Guardian constructs,” Caleb said. “They were a nuisance to battle, but once de Rogna was gone, they went dormant and stopped fighting. We figured out how to pilot them later.”
Essek looked suitably impressed by this. He shifted his umbrella into his other hand.
“Really?” he said. “And are you now their master?”
“Oh no, nein,” Caleb quickly shook his head. “Honestly, it was suggested, but I…there was something that bothered me about the idea of having control of them. And not just I, but…it felt wrong to let any single person control a fleet of sleepless warriors. So Beauregard got creative.”
“Indeed?”
Caleb pointed to a wooden sign that was nailed into the ground a few feet from their path. A handful of workers was crouching next to it, carefully reciting what was scrawled across its surface. After a moment, to Essek’s genuine surprise, he realized they were practicing an arcane incantation.
“How do—”
“A pronunciation guide,” Caleb said. He was—yes, he was smiling about this. “We managed to translate enough verbal commands to make them usable for anyone who can read Common.”
“But…but…that’s everyone,” Essek said, hurrying a bit to catch back up. It took him some effort to tear his gaze from the sign. “Are you not…are you not concerned about this information falling into the wrong hands?”
“Ah, but if anyone can use them, then there is no problem. The playing field, as they say, has evened out. That was Beauregard’s idea, anyhow.” At the silence that followed, Caleb tilted his head and said, “Think of it this way, ja? A magic sword controlled by an evil person is not so dangerous if even a peasant can tell it to stop. What is the use of a weapon of war that listens to everyone’s commands?”
“Yes, but…” Essek struggled to find the right words. “Now…now…right, but now the sword is a, a, a butter knife! What would be the point of that?”
Caleb was quiet for a moment. Then he managed a trying smile. “That…depends on what you need though, no? Right now, what we are looking for is not war. It is toast. Er…that is, a metaphorical toast.”
“But…still, if that is the case, anyone could steal your constructs,” Essek said, somewhat subdued. “Should they not be guarded? As you would protect a prized tool?”
Caleb actually snorted at this. “If anybody attempted to do so,” he said, “they would receive quite an earful from the Chief Surveyor. They would not dare.”
And then Caleb turned, met Essek’s gaze, and it looked like he was waiting for cheerful agreement.
Neither response felt appropriate. Something about this still bothered Essek, almost like trying an ill-fitting sock.
“I think, ah, that I prefer jam,” he managed eventually. “On my toast, that is. And perhaps, a cup of tea?”
Blessedly, this elicited a chuckle from Caleb. “Of course, of course. That I can provide. We are quite close to the tavern, as is.”
And indeed, after only a few more minutes, they passed through a thin line of trees and arrived at the edge of a small, but bustling town.
“Welcome—well, welcome back to Feldwerin,” Caleb corrected. “Though this time, I expect, you will be staying longer.”
When the war ended, Felderwin Tillage had been left in a state of utter chaos. Purple worms had torn apart acres of land, fields had been razed by advancing soldiers, and scores of houses, stables, and shops had been burned to the ground when the invasion began.
And then, the Cerberus Assembly had fallen, and more information flooded the populous. They’d been told, virtually overnight, that the Archmages had been secretly using this town as a testing ground. They’d unleashed uncontrolled magic here for generations, tricking and abusing the townsfolk for their experiments, forcing a local lad—the widower—to work for them, and when people fell ill, they’d blamed it all on molded fruit.
Suddenly, the villagers felt quite foolish. And then, they’d started to get angry.
So it came as a genuine shock to Caleb that when the time came to build their campus, Veth had stepped forward and said it should be in Felderwin.
“But…they’d never agree,” he’d said. “Why should they?”
But she’d shaken her head. “They will.”
And so, the next morning, Veth marched through the village center with Luc and Yeza following behind, the Mighty Nein scrambling to keep up. She’d stormed up the stairs of the Town Hall, looked the Starosta dead in his eye, and informed him that everything was about to change.
All they’d need, she said, was a swath of land outside town, far enough away that it wouldn’t interfere with the calm that this village had been so denied, but close enough that it was still in the tillage. She’d told him, when he’d protested, that yes, there would be mages, but there would also be student mages, young, burgeoning minds that would spend quite a long time at the school. They’d be trained there, fed and housed and cared for, and eventually, once they grew up and graduated, when they looked back fondly on their younger years, it’d be in Felderwin.
Besides, she’d added, tapping the side of her nose, now the King would have to protect this place. After all, it’d be right next to the Empire’s arcane center, and wouldn’t it be nice to finally have some proper defenses? Not to mention, if you needed to borrow any of the bright young masons and stonecutters we’d hired, well. That could be arranged, easy.    
Sometimes, she’d said, it doesn’t hurt to be on the map. Because then the world pays attention to what happens to you.
And then the mayor had said, Aren’t you dead?
And then Veth had informed him, I got better.
And so it was now, a few months later, that Caleb led Essek past the newly-rebuilt Brenatto Apothecary, toward the Glassy Grass Inn. It had become the go-to tavern for the Mighty Nein, not because they were unwelcome in Veth’s house, per say, but more due to a gentle conversation that Yeza had had with his wife about work-life balance after Caduceus had walked into the center of the shop during its busiest hours in nothing but a towel and a toothbrush.
After that, they agreed to at least sleep next door.
The bell overhead rang as they entered, though the sound was lost in the din of voices. Essek had barely shut his parasol before a burly man in an apron rushed past, carrying tray upon tray of drink and food.
���It’s gotten rather busy since we moved in,” Caleb explained. “Word got around, and apparently people quite like staying in the same pub as us. That, and old Littlebottle agreed to let our workers take meals and rooms at a discount. The barkeep.”
“Really?” Essek raised an eyebrow. “How generous of him.”
“Well, apparently he is grateful for the business. And, I expect, grateful that our project has kept his neighbor preoccupied. Apparently Veth and Yeza were responsible for quite a number of the scorch marks at the edge of his lawn.”
“Is that so?” Essek chuckled. “I find it easy to believe.” Then he added, as he watched Caleb wave to a face in the crowd, “It seems you have taken well to your new assignment. And life in this town.”
He was caught off-guard when he noticed the faintest coloring of Caleb’s ear.
“Oh, er…is that so? Have I?”
“Well, I…just meant it seems you have made friends with the locals. And you, ah, move through the village with purpose, and had quite a lot to say about your endeavor.”
“Is that—scheisse, was I annoy—”
“Oh! No, no, not at all. I just, er…”
They stopped in the doorway leading up to the second floor, laughter and conversation winding slowly all around them.
“I just meant, ah…it is nice to see you so relaxed,” Essek finished lamely. “Retirement from adventuring seems to suit you.”
Caleb seemed to relax. “Well,” he murmured, “I am glad you think so. Though I must say, my retirement has certainly been eventful.”
“Better still than the typical hero’s retirement, no?”
“Ha! Lucky for me, eh?”
They stood there for a moment longer, as if neither were sure who should go first. But after a short pause, Caleb stepped back and began rummaging through his pockets. “Here, ah, here, take this,” he said, and pressed a small silver key into Essek’s hand. “It leads to my bedroom, but you can rest there while I see about getting you a room. And some tea.”
Eseek turned it over, looped a finger through the cord. “Oh, but I can’t just leave you to—”
“No, nein, I insist,” said Caleb. “I do not mind—”
“Are you sure—”
“Of course.” And with the air of someone playing a trump card in a social encounter, he added, “After all, you have travelled quite a distance, my friend. Please. I will join you in a moment.”
The Mighty Nein ate their sandwiches peacefully in the meadow outside their tent.
Then:
“I thought he’d be wearing different clothes.”
“What?”
“I dunno. I just thought he’d look…less shadowy.”
“Like he wouldn’t be wearing that creepy mantle, or something?”
“Yeah! Like I thought he’d be in, like, summery clothes! Like a flowy shirt and regular pants and short sleeves and straw sandals. He is taking a break from being a spymaster, after all.”
There a pause as they pondered the likelihood of this.
“He…could be wearing that under the mantle,” Caduceus said.
“Sandals? Really?” said Fjord.
“But his skin, he probably could not wear those if he wanted to,” Yasha said.
“Hmm…that is a good point,” Jester conceded. “But still, all black? In the summer? That’s
“Not if he’s got, I dunno, ice under there,” said Veth. “What if he has a bunch of ice strapped to his chest?”
“Ice? Now, really…” said Fjord, but everyone else had started to ruminate on this.
“No stains,” said Beau eventually.
“What?”
“No stains,” she repeated “If there was ice, there’d be stains. From it melting, right?”
“Or he’d be—ugh, gross—he’d be leaking,” said Veth. “Like there’d be puddles underneath him and stuff.”
Three of them snickered delightedly at this. Then Caduceus passed around more juice, and more sandwiches.
There was a cat on the bed when Essek walked in, sprawled out as if it owned the place.
Disguised drow and disguised fey regarded each other for a moment. Then Frumpkin stretched lazily, and yawned.
It occurred to Essek, as he continued to stand in the doorway, that this might be some kind of test. Minutes passed as he struggled to find the right thing to say—this was a familiar, was it not? And then he realized that anything he did end up saying would probably come across as rather silly. He decided to err on caution and simply nodded to the cat before sitting down on a worn wooden chair.
It ignored him completely. Essek twisted at his sleeve.
And finally, by the Grace of the Luxon, there was a polite knock at the door.
“Come in, come i—Caleb, that is much too much food.”
“Nonsense,” said Caleb, who had closed the door behind him rather inelegantly with a foot. Carefully balanced across his arms were two wooden trays absolutely laden with breads, cheeses, sliced meats and fruits that Essek at a first glance couldn’t name. A third tray floated behind Caleb, supported by a faintly-shimmering Unseen Servant, carrying drinks and utensils.
Not to be outdone, Essek gave a faint smile and flicked his wrist with a flourish. The trays rose out of Caleb’s grasp and drifted toward the table.
“I had it,” but his former student was now smiling as well. “Though I have missed seeing an esteemed Gravaturgist at work.”
The food came to a gentle rest between them. “I have also missed showing off,” Essek said wryly. “It is hard to find someone in the Dynasty unfamiliar enough with Dunamancy to appreciate my skills quite as much as you d—you alldid.”
“We did make you teleport us around quite a bit,” Caleb chuckled. He picked up a small piece of bread and split it in two, offering half to Essek. “I do not think we ever repaid you properly, either.”
Essek examined the bread in his hands. “Well, if I remember the contents of your letter correctly, it is the world that should be trying to repay you. The Chained Oblivion? Really, Caleb?”
“Oh, ah…” The man actually had the nerve to sound bashful. “That was mostly an accident, as it were.”
“You…sorry, you accidentally defeated the Chained God? Is that what you are telling me?”
“Well, er, no, not exactly.” He picked up one of the small round fruits and held it between his fingers. “It was sort of an accident that we found it…or rather, we did not know what we were looking for.”
This sounded like the Mighty Nein that Essek knew. He motioned for Caleb to go on.
“We had been…following a dream of Yasha’s,” Caleb said. “She had received it from the Storm Lord ages ago, but with one thing and another, we had never had time to pursue this. There was…a place, an island in the sea, she had felt it was a place of great importance. We weren’t sure why, until we arrived and found…”
A place of starlight and iron chains, buried in the heart of a dead volcano. A chamber, a ritual-site, fading incense and chalk, ensnaring an obelisk and a shattered crystal and at its center, a pulsating, churning darkness—
A hole in reality, Essek would remember, lying awake that night. The bastards had found a hole in reality and then they’d jumped in—
And found themselves standing in a pocket dimension…or at least, that’s what they’d thought. The air swirled with dark mist, the sky alive and churning. The walls of the world seemed to lurch and expand and it was Caduceus who realized that the whole plane was breathing. Jester shifted them out, returning them to the chamber, and they began to pour through the notes left behind. They realized that someone had found a Divine Shackle, then turned it in on itself, re-directed the ritual, created a bridge that would grant them access to the very being of Tharizdun, the most ancient and chaotic of forces—
“But who?” Essek breathed. He held a gooseberry, though he didn’t know it yet. “Who was responsible?”
Caleb scowled. “They left their notes behind. Who else would it be?”
As far as the Cobalt Soul could tell, the archmages themselves had not originally been involved in any actual cult. But after Vence’s capture, and Tasithar’s transfer, a spark of interest had been ignited in the minds of some of the nation’s brightest.
“It is like your metaphor,” Caleb said. “Before, they were simply sailing on a boat—"
Essek hesitated. The horrible sourness of the fruit might’ve been muddying his concentration. “It is what?”
“Like they were sailing,” Caleb repeated. “And every so often, they could lean over the edge and skim the sea for knowledge from relative safety. But capturing the cultists had…inspired the Academy to instead, go for a dive. And so they dove, down into the deeps, plumbing the darkest tides for secrets. And of course, they ultimately encountered the monster of all monsters…”
From there, it had been a matter of getting the proof—about this, about everything else they’d done—into the hands of Cobalt Soul. But word got out, and whispers travelled, and more people than the Nein could ever have imagined rose up, demanded justice and retribution—
Essek remembered the reports he’d received on the morning of the fall of the Cerberus Assembly. The casualties had been extreme, but what happened afterwards, even more so.  
“You arrested them,” he murmured. “The ones that survived, anyway.”
“And still, quite a few of them escaped,” Caleb sighed. “That is of course not even including the fact that not all of them were guilty enough to fully imprison to start with. As I understand, Hass has left to see the world, and Lord Uludan is still a diplomat for the king.”
Essek glanced at a slice of cured ham. He wondered if it would be enough to counter the taste in his mouth.
“With the…Assembly gone,” he said carefully, “there will not be a council of mages to balance the rule of the king, anymore. The nation has lost a powerful governing body and a source of great strength. What do you suppose this means for Dwendal?”
Caleb raised an eyebrow at Essek. “I certainly do not think the Assembly was doing much balancing to begin with,” he said, almost as slowly. “As for the King, well…the man is quite old, and very paranoid. He will be tricky to manage, and yet there are a number of good people surrounding him. In fact, the elimination of the Assembly could allow them to finally step up. That, and this nation has now witnessed a historic uprising of the people. For the first time in a long time, citizens are trying to make their voices heard. And unless the royal court wants more chaos, or to fall in the way that the Assembly did, for once, I think they will have to listen.”
Essek lowered his hand. He stared at Caleb. “But…they are just people,” he said, astonished. “How could they know what is best for the nation?”
Caleb’s expression changed, slightly. He was silent for quite a long stretch of time.
“My dear friend…they are the nation.”
“No,” said Fjord.
“But—”
“No, Jester. I will not let you tape ice cubes to my armpit.”
There was a pause. Then a huff.
“Fine, I’ll ask Beau.”
After lunch, Essek was shown to a room slightly farther down the hall.
“It will likely be some time before we will be able to move into the school grounds,” Caleb said, “so I recommend you make yourself comfortable here.”
Essek was given another small key, tied to a leather cord.
He felt like something needed to be said. Gods, if he could just figure out what.
“I, ah…thank you,” he tried. “For…lunch, for everything, the room, and, ah, if you need gold—"
Caleb shook his hand. “Nein, please, no. It is, as they say, on the house. More accurately, on the dime of the royal treasury.”
There was another hesitation. Essek sought desperately for a solution, but when nothing came, he sighed. And gave up.
“I, um…am sorry,” he said. “If I…made a statement that was…incorrect.”
Caleb studied his expression. Then, he seemed to sigh as well.
“A school is for learning, is it not? Maybe we will be surprised by who teaches.”
“Er…”
“I just mean,” Caleb murmured, “that we do truly come from different worlds. That are, in many odd ways, rather the same. I just hope it will not be too much.”
Essek was not a stupid man. He opened his mouth again, to protest, but stopped when a hand brushed against his arm.
“You should get some rest,” Caleb said. “Unpack, adjust to our time zone, relax. Then tomorrow,” and here there was the faintest hint of smile, “I will give you a real tour of the school. You should have a voice in some of our plans, too, for the curriculum and into the future. And,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “it will be better to have everyone around when we finish the story. Yasha does very good sound effects for the Chained Oblivion.”
There was another pause. Not nearly as tense, but still quite bewildered.
“She does…what?”
“You did not think that was the end of the story, did you?” Caleb grinned. “That we toppled the Assembly and the Maw that Devours just vanished?”
Essek recalled the other reports.
“Ah,” he said. “More the fool I.”
Caleb gave him a friendly pat. “Once a bridge is built, it goes both ways,” he said. “It is funny how often we wizards forget that.”
Then, in the warmth of the hallway, he nodded.
“Have a rest, Essek Thelyss. I will be down the hall. Let me know if you need anything.”
Then he nodded, and turned around, and left.
“Jester, I—oh gods, that’s cold.”
“Hold still, silly! You have to hold still.”
“But I—ah—oh, oh gods.”
And later that evening, alone in his room, Essek summoned an exquisite onyx chest. He popped it open, and slowly all his worldly possessions began to drift out. Clothes, papers, books and components slowly floated across the room, settling into the proper drawers or hanging themselves in the closet.
And then, Essek collapsed into bed. With a wave of his hand, a small mirror appeared.
It was black, made from polished volcanic glass and set into a twisted metal frame. It had been a gift, and as far as mirrors went, it was rather lacking, but—
He sighed.
It would get the job done.
[Part 1] - [Writing Tag] - [The Bail Project] - [National Bail Fund Network]
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Alrighty so I'm gonna go out on a limb and request Overstimulation fics. As in sensual not sexual because with the holidays coming up I wanna read about the boys curbing meltdowns from Too Much™ so I can feel better about my moments
Hey Lovely!
AHHHHHH hmmm. I’d like to read some too... I did a search of my TO READ list and here’s what I found that might work? Feel free to add your own, Lovelies!! I have to add a new tag to my fics as I reread them now, LOL
OVERSTIMULATION / SENSORY ISSUES (TO READ)
The Doctor's Reward by CarmillaCarmine (E, 3,124 w., 2 Ch. || Quarantine / Self-Isolation, Doctor John, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Prostate Massage, Overstimulation, Autofellatio, Come Swallowing, Masturbation) – Sherlock decides that John needs a reward after a day of working from home. Part 11 of the The Johnlock Utopia (Holidays and Celebrations) Series
To Show You a Night by songlin (E, 3,731 w. || Sensory Deprivation, Blindfolds, Anal, Dirty Talk, Forced Orgasm) – Sherlock's never had an orgasm before. John crafts a solution. "I forgot how badly I wanted to fuck your mind.”
The Catherine Wheel by Ghislainem70 (M, 3,762 w., 1 Ch. || Sensory!Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, PWP, Romance) – A Johnlock first time. Sherlock has sensory sensitivity. Can Doctor John Watson help?
Isolation by Nova-chan (T, 9,281 w., 11 Ch. || Drama, Angst) – Sherlock in a sensory deprivation tank.
Crimson Hymns by brilliantlyburning (E, 48,982 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S3/TAB, Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, Unhealthy Coping Methods, Demisexual Sherlock, Boxing, Pining, Sensory Processing Issues, Drug Use, First Kiss / Time, BDSM, Mary is Not Good, Parentlock, Proposal, Happy Ending, Beekeeping, Violence, References to Addiction, Poetry) – He laid his head over John’s heart, eyes level with his silver-rough scar, and listened to the crimson hymns beating beneath the surface. He imagined flowers blooming in his own chest: veins weaving intricate patterns on petals of thin muscle engorged with blood, sinew for stems and tendons for roots—the flowers would be poppies, maybe (addictive) or foxglove (deadly yet useful)—twining gleaming blood-red around the porcelain bone of his ribs. In his mind’s eye the gruesome bouquet all tied together on the left side of his chest, the stems bound together in heartstrings and the flowers fed by the rhythmic contraction of ventricles. It’s yours, he imagined saying to John—from the vena cava to the mitral valve to the arteries it is yours.— Or, the Love Song of W. Sherlock S. Holmes.
In Absentia by SeaweedWrites (T, 79,273 w., 39 Ch. || TRF Divergence, Major Character Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Realism, Car Accident, Traumatic Brain Injury, Hospital, Sherlock in a Coma, Physical/Psychological Rehab, Sensory Issues, Heavy Angst, Drama, Sherlock Whump, Biog Brother Mycroft, Depression, Nightmares, Panic Attacks) – Sherlock sends John a mysterious text. While John waits for Sherlock to come back to 221B to explain, Sherlock is involved in a terrible car crash, and everyone's lives are irrecoverably changed. Will Sherlock survive? And the bigger question for John- If he does survive, will he ever be the same? Part 1 of the In Absentia Fics and Information
Sensory Science by sussexbound (E, 80,017 w., 24 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, ASMR, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, John’s PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Anxiety, Friends to Lovers, Drinking Problems, Nightmares, Depression, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage/Orgasm, Phone Sex, Frottage, Coming Untouched, BJ’s, Rimming) – John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend. One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.
Periodic Tales Series by 7PercentSolution (T/NR, 253,510+ w. across 18 works | Series WiP || Autistic Sherlock, Sensory Processing Disorder, Case Fics, Chemistry, Kidlock, Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues) – Lots of science, lots of case fic! This is Sherlock as chemist, using the periodic table of elements for many different reasons. Each story is centred around one particular element, in two parts. One focuses on aspects of Sherlock's childhood and events in his life; the other part shows how that has influenced his abilities as the world's only consulting detective, demonstrated through a case fic that shows off his deducing skills. The stories are not long (1-5 parts in length) and are in more or less chronological order in terms of Sherlock's life.
Unwind Series by illwick (E, 697,027+ w. across 33 fics || Light BDSM / Power Dynamics, Dom!John/Sub!Sherlock, Switchlock, Hair-Pulling, Snsory Deprivation, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Handcuffs, Overstimulation, Forced Orgasm, Prostate Milking / Massage, Rough Sex, Biting, Food Sex, Consensual Kink, Sex on Everything, Chair Bondage, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Oral/Anal, Fingering, Sex Toys, Captain John, Establish Relationship, Bratty Sherlock, Greedy Sherlock, Military Kink, Uniform Kink, Gunplay, Roleplay, Shower Sex, Oral Fixation, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Facials, Dog Tags, Edgeplay, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Threesomes, Homophobia, Size Kink, Past Relationships, Past Drug Use, Double Penetration, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Panties) –  John and Sherlock unwind after a case.
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milktrician · 1 year
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In a time before the gods were overtaken in their favor, the Reaper encounters a cursed being able to control the connections between people.
A first meeting comic between Fia (The Reaper) and Kahi I ended up writing after an initial scene of dialogue. Had a lot of fun laying this all out :)
They end up getting it down in the end by the way
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Scarlett and the Professor
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moodboard by @strangelock221b​
[continued from] 
Following her watery lesson in the bathtub—in which her insatiable lover had proven his endurance matched perfectly with his dedication to their mutual pleasure—the rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of quiet happiness for Scarlett. Once dried and dressed, he had headed back to his study to grade the last of his papers, having instructed her to get herself dressed and promising he would come back to collect her in no longer than twenty minutes. “I think a tour of the manse is in order once I return,” he’d promised, pressing a few lighthearted kisses to the back of her neck as she stood before the bathroom mirror, towel-clad and about to brush out her hair. “And then perhaps we’ll take a little drive to see what other adventures we can get up to.”
And as good as his word, Hennessy had squired her about his home both inside and out, quietly delighting Scarlett with his apparent need to maintain at least some small physical contact with her most of the time. Splaying one hand on the small of her back or draping an arm across her shoulders, and even stealing occasional kisses from her when she least expected it. How heavenly it felt to know by these simple gestures how thoroughly he now considered her to be his own! His surprisingly tender affections proved distracting enough that if asked, Scarlett would not have been rightly able to answer questions about the layout of his home.
Beneath a cloudless, cerulean sky, they strolled through the wild-grown garden that bordered the pool and jacuzzi behind Hennessy’s house. A riot of indigenous plants and flowers grew thick around them; despite her several months on the island, they still struck Scarlett as breathtakingly exotic. Bougainville and anthurium flourished unchecked, along with several species of lily, banana flowers, and hibiscus; the vibrant reds and pinks, golds and oranges, vied for dominance amidst the deep green of the leaves and vines, with splashes of light and dark blues throughout. The center of the garden held an old, marble bench beside a small ornamental pool filled with lotus blossoms. Beyond this private little piece of Eden lay a wide, grassy slope that ended at a hedgerow which ran the length of the property. But for all its tranquil charm, it was clear from his commentary that Hennessy preferred the shingle of white sand beach which she had viewed from his balcony. Scarlett hoped that in time he’d take her there as well.
“Feeling peckish yet?” They were sitting beneath the umbrella of a wrought iron table on the patio near the pool. “I’m famished…how about we grab a bite to eat?”
“I’d like that,” she agreed, game for whatever he had in mind. Hennessy held out his hand to her as she stood up and whisked her along with him to his garage. He continued to play the gentleman, seating her in his sleek, midnight blue convertible and advising her well. “Buckle up, little lamb—I’m feeling the need for speed,” he grinned, slamming shut her door and then taking his place behind the wheel.
Scarlett was shocked to discover that despite being a man who held nearly absolute and steadfast control over every aspect of his life (that she’d observed thus far, anyway), Hennessy drove like a maniac. Though he must’ve known well the curves and dips and swells of the two-lane road from his home and beyond, he took them with an incautious speed and virtual abandon that were quite harrowing. She did her best to keep her eyes set on the road in front of them, making involuntary sounds of distress at his most egregious transgressions, and feeling him sneak peeks her way while chortling at her obvious distress. “Almost there, m’dear,” he laughed as the tires squealed through yet another reckless curve and played havoc with her loose, fishtail braid—so that once they’d reached the little roadside, seafood shack that was their destination, Scarlett had to loose it from it’s binding and run her shaky hands through her hair to set it right.  
Once her nerves and stomach had settled, she discovered she was hungry enough to put that harrowing experience behind her–for the time being–and indulge in the bounty which Hennessy has ordered for them, and then laid out on one of the weathered picnic tables behind the small, brightly shingled building. “The best and freshest catches on the island,” he bragged, “Prepared with all the culinary magic only a native chef could provide!” Scarlett found greater pleasure than she might ever have imagined in watching him indulge his ravenous appetite. They feasted upon cornmeal battered shrimp, a crab and curry stew, conch fritters served with a spicy brown rice, pickled mackerel in a thick coconut milk sauce beside fried plantains. At Hennessy’s insistence, she even tried the Bake and Shark with Citrus Chutney, surprising herself that she actually enjoyed it. He was larger than life in everything he did, and she felt a swell of simple affection for him fill her heart, and unabashed gratitude that she was along for this glorious, albeit unpredictable, ride with him.
Afterwards, he surprised her yet again, offering to drive to her flat so she could grab a bathing suit and another change of clothes—indicating that he expected her to stay with him a second night. Even another nerve-wracking drive back to his estate couldn’t dampen her joy at that.   
          ____________________________________________________
The sun glinted off the ripples and waves lapping at the warm, white sand of Hennessy’s beach as he spread out a thick blanket for them to recline upon. Curious gulls flew low, checking for food scraps that so often accompanied the presence of humans in their domain. Scarlett stood where the water just kissed her toes, breathing deep the salty tang of the Atlantic, a scent that often awoke a quiet longing in her heart for home---though she wouldn’t dream of being anywhere in the world right now but at her lover’s side.
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A sudden updraft swept through her hair, and the squawks of protest from the sea gulls caught in the rising air current drew her attention away from the ocean and back behind her. Hennessy had one arm crooked and was drawing swirls in the air, that same determined focus on his face as when he’d worked that mysterious water magic as she bathed. He’s clearing the birds away, was her immediate thought; he’s literally stirring the air to send them away! How in hell is this possible? Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet didn’t feel as solid as it should. 
He flashed her his ever-charming sideways smile, and held out his free arm to her and he lowered the other and the ‘breeze’ died away. “Come sit with me, Scarlett.” Hennessy’s tone of command was undeniable, and her knees went weak with her need to obey. She took his proffered hand and then settled onto the blanket, not allowing the certainty that she wasn’t the first woman to share it with him here, to dull the pleasant anticipation that he would inevitably be taking here soon in whatever way pleased him best. 
Hennessy made their small talk easy for a time, skirting the edges of the questions which he had to know were weighing on her mind, while drawing from her the details of what he certainly must think of as her quaint, little life. He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow while Scarlett sat cross-legged and continued to watch the waves lap at the warm sand. As relaxed as she was feeling, she could also feel him watching her as though everything she told him was of great interest---and as if he was in no rush to pursue his pleasure just yet. 
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The blazing orange disk of the sun had sunk lower on the horizon by the time that conversation lapsed, and he finally saw fit to broach the topic that remained foremost in her thoughts. “You’re quite a patient woman, Scarlett. Especially for one so green.” The husk of his voice was as soothing as the rhythm of the waves, and drew her eyes his way. “I’m impressed. You’ve held your tongue all these hours about something I know you must be bursting to ask about.”
Scarlett shrugged and gave a wee smile. “My Mam always taught me that patience was a virtue—but before he lit out into the wider world to make his fortune, my Da taught me a simpler wisdom…”
“Which was?”
“That I should take a lesson from the Sea, whose patience endures forever. And who always gets want she wants, in the end.”
“Hmmm…wise man, your Da,” Hennessy reflected, “Though he’d have done better by you not to father you in absentia.”
“I suppose so,” she sighed, resolving to keep that quiet pain from tainting this precious time with her teacher, “Though it’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”
He smiled at her winningly, “You have an apt way of looking at things, m’dear.” He took to his feet as he told her, “And your patience has earned you the answer to the mystery of the afternoon.” Hennessy held out his hand to help her rise up, guided her forward to stand with her toes tucked just beneath the edge of the water again, and then stood behind her, “But first a little demonstration more.”
The sun had dipped almost completely beneath the waves; the air was warm and soft, rife with the night’s possibilities. Scarlet felt, as much as heard, Hennessy draw a deep breath, and in moments saw the seafoam suddenly part around her feet, wetting the sand in a widening circle that left her skin untouched. The circle soon grew to encompass them both, closing behind him.
Scarlett licked her lips, barely able to speak. “It’s real…it really happened. Part of me kept insisting that I dreamed the whole thing, but…but it’s real…”
Hennessy stepped into her and spoke against he ear, making her shiver with his truth, “Very, very real, my sweet. As real as the Sun at it’s zenith. As real as the pull of the Moon upon the tides.”
Though her mouth had gone dry, Scarlett remained undaunted in her need for the full truth. She turned to face him, clear-eyed and ready for whatever he might reveal. “Then how, my jo…tell me how it’s even possible. Please.”
“Oh my dear,” he tutted, “My sweet, innocent girl. Hennessy’s eyes gleamed softly in the dying light. “There is so very much you have left to learn.”
(to be continued)
tagging: @strangelock221b @ravencatart @doctor-stephenstrange @splunge4me2art @ben-locked @ben-c-group-therapy @letterstosherlock @humanbornarchangel @aeterna-auroral-avenger @frowerssx-world @tsukuyomi011 @emilyinnj4real @losille2000 @macgyvershe (as I have a hunch this is just up your alley!)
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jzixuans · 4 years
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virgil cooperate with me challenge (hi it’s blink i’m back :) )
good happy things:
made myself wake up early
homemade mochas with frothy milk
pttm ch10 🥺
the hodge podge scene in ck 
and the subsequent slapping (gentle papping) of angus mcdonald
went on a nice walk
played a bunch of animal crossing
my island’s starting to come along nicely!!
stella (animal crossing) said she dreams of sharing an umbrella in the rain with someone she cares about and i’m so 🥺
drew a pretty great logan and outlined a sexy palette
bee taught me swears in spanish
wreaking havoc on sapph with airam
didn’t expect to get so emo about minecraft but dani’s mc au :(((((
waking up in the morning and sending lia a virtual gmornin forehead kissy
logan’s smile 🥺🥺🥺
sir fitzroy maplecourt knight in absentia to the realm of goodcastle
mr argonaut keene
master firbolg
master firbolg’s voice
the graduation soundtrack
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chronicbatfictioner · 4 years
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Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 10
The pretty boy in a tight leather suit was as good and pretty with his stitches as he looked in a tight leather suit, Jason observed. The older man, looking much more like a highly trained and competent fighter, but with a similar mental age as Damian, was having quite a success in entertaining the boy.
Overall, the accommodation was decent - no one could come in undetected, or get out unnoticed. He figured this was some sort of containment unit, originally; only later used as a safe house. It was located, ironically, near Jason's old home at Crime Alley. He knew the area well, even the underground side of it. If he were to escape this place, it would have been easy.
But the boy - 'Stray' - seemed earnest when he said the Oracle's name. Thus far, however, there was no presence of the Oracle themselves. Jason was still unsure if the Oracle was a man, a woman, or a group of people - and has settled for a non-binary pronoun in his mind.
Plus, he was receiving free, neat stitches without having to face some sort of legal authorities. He sincerely doubted that the Gotham Police would be able to provide protection or service quite like this, regardless of what he was told.
"What's the Oracle, by the way?" he finally decided to ask, his curiosity won.
Stray blinked. "Uh, an entity that holds numerous kind of information network to help the good people of Gotham take the city back from evil?" he replied.
"Did you rehearse that?" Jason quipped.
"No, thankfully, I'm a professional. That one came straight out of my sitting end." Stray retorted.
Jason barked a laugh. Stray beamed a little at him. "Sorry... just... it's been a while since I hear sincere sarcasm." Jason apologized.
"Heeey, I like this guy! You're a Gothamite, aren't you?" Talon commented from halfway across the room.
"I... how'd you know?" Jason didn't bother trying to deny it. He realized that only Gothamites would appreciate good sarcasm. "Are you?"
"He's not. He was a circus dude and got this mad skillz in figuring out where people came from." Stray replied. "I am, though."
"I could tell that one, actually. You both know how to fight well, yet you have no superpowers, and you helped a random someone and joined a brawl without wondering who was good, who was bad. Typical Gothamites." Jason snarked, only slightly regretting the rudeness.
Talon seemed unperturbed. "See, kitten? You should really reign in your tempers," he commented.
Stray sighed dramatically. "Seriously, dude. It was you who said something about the brawling party and you're not invited. I was just there to make sure nobody died." he deadpanned. "And by nobody, I meant those ninjas. He has a nasty temper."
"What can I say? I had to join in, we're heroes, man!" Talon quipped.
"Are you heroes like Superman?" Damian asked curiously. "You have colors, but muted, unlike Superman's... rather obnoxiously eye-catching uniform..." he added with a slight scowl on the corner of his lips.
"Costume. But hey, you know, he operates in the daylight hours. He has to be visible, right? Otherwise, people might think of him as a weather blimp or something. We, on the other hand, prefer to work nights because the bad people of Gotham City like to work nights, too." Talon explained; reasonably, simply, but not condescendingly. At least Damian bought the explanation. Jason knew how his tempers would flare if he thought he was being belittled.
He unconsciously sighed. The two 'heroes' have provided adequate meals in the form of Turkish fast food for them. The taste was... horrible, compared to the ones made by the League's cooks. But Damian had eaten them, anyway, after seeing Jason ate his. Jason himself wasn't bothered by the taste - he would never be bothered by the taste of food as long as they're hot and fresh; he'd had his share of eating cold discarded leftovers, anyway.
The bright side of consuming the high-carb food was that Damian was starting to sway on his feet.
"Damian, I believe it's time for me to turn in for the night. Will it be okay if you explain to these two what we're doing in town?" he told Damian. The latter blinked owlishly, obviously fighting his exhaustion.
"I... if you don't mind, Red, I would prefer you to explain to them while I repose. My mind does not want to compose words in English right now," he admitted, and Jason snickered internally.
"You want to go to bed?" Talon asked, a little oblivious of Damian's attempt to behave older than his actual age. "Would you like me to keep you comp--" Jason cleared his throat just in time, and blessed be, Talon seemed to understand and corrected himself, "...stand guard for you?"
"If you deem it necessary, then conduct yourself, Talon. I shall not attempt to escape this... establishment - not especially while Red is quite incapacitated. But I understand you have your orders." Damian replied. Stray coughed, and Jason would swear that he was hiding a giggle.
"So he thinks he's a prisoner." Stray finally commented once Talon and Damian walked out of the med-bay toward the bedrooms.
"I hope we're not since you've both been so kind and am not looking forward to popping a stitch," Jason replied. "at least not tonight. Such neat stitches, too," he added.
"You're not. We'll know if you get out, but we won't stop you." Oracle finally made its presence known, through a projection on the wall. Stray pointed at the area between his eyebrows, and Jason immediately noticed a camera located roughly on the projection's forehead. "So, now that we're all adults here... Stray notwithstanding, care to let us in on what's going on?"
"About the boy being Bruce Wayne's son?" Jason groaned.
"That, among all others. What happened to Ra's Al Ghul and his daughter, Talia? Why are they not here?" Oracle asked. "I have done some researches and found that both Ra's and Talia have disappeared. Care to enlighten us?"
"They're dead," Jason swallowed around the lump in his throat. "They were murdered, and I've been assigned by Talia to send Damian to his father if or when she is deceased."
"And you're sure the father is Bruce Wayne?" Stray asked.
Jason shrugged, "Hey, it's not like I was there when it happened, right? Damian was three years old when I met him for the first time. That's what she told me, and that's what I'm gonna go by."
"If..." Oracle hesitated. "A hypothetical situation here: if you did get to meet Bruce Wayne and told him that he has a son, what's next?"
"I suppose there would be processes - DNA tests and whatnot. I'll remain by Damian's side, regardless. Talia has assigned me to be Damian's main Ghost. That is, the caretaker." Jason explained. "Are you worried that Wayne would not admit it?"
"That's one of the things I worry about," Oracle admitted. "What then, if he won't accept Damian?"
Jason shrugged again. "We shall convince him by all means. Otherwise..." he paused and inhaled sharply. "I can take care of him, legally or whatever."
"Jason Peter Todd, 19, has been a milk-box face for six years. You're a few months away before being declared dead in absentia." Oracle recited. Jason was not surprised. He knew that Stray had collected his blood - presumably for use of identification. "So I suppose you don't want to be declared dead, and thus you allowed Stray to take your blood."
"You're good," Jason smirked. "Talia revered you highly; said that you're the epitome of all that is good in the world. Even while being invisible."
"You're a charmer, obviously," Oracle quipped dryly. Stray actually snickered this time. "You didn't even ask who'd put your face on said milk box,"
"Must be some people my folks owed money to," Jason snorted. "Anyway, I was planned to return to Gotham prior to being declared dead, anyway. So that I can exist alongside Damian if... the scenario you mentioned above happened. It just kind of happened a little too soon." he sighed dejectedly. "I was taking Damian out on a training excursion when they attacked... We tried..." he paused, wondering just how much Oracle knew of the Lazarus Pit. "The damage on their bodies were too extensive. The perpetrators were... long gone when we got back."
"I hope by 'we' you don't mean just Damian and you," Stray remarked, looking a little pale even under his amber-colored goggles. "and who's 'the perpetrators'?"
"Oh, no, I meant me and a number of my trusted compatriots. Damian's guards.  We're spreading out as we speak to divert attention from the League of Shadows, each of us carrying a child of Damian's size. League of Shadows is... 'the perpetrators'. They're a league of murderers and covert assassins that reneged from us to follow Lady Shiva, who was once one of Ra's Seven Men of Death." he explained. "Anyway, Houston, since you said I'm not a prisoner here, I think it would be fair if you answer my question this time. What was the problem Talon talked about to you?"
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sirjustice1307 · 3 years
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Stop calling me crooks out of the explained below women, Carry ya own burden dude
Even with corpse of your like can be made in the boom by taking the exact big photo or small and give it measurements on the face, lips, eyes and height, folded and u step within CD hole on white paper on white guava extract, heap hay and mango in dim light in gone down places within ya compound or in a tank as u wash ya feet with males kids in detergent water after washing clothes and boom ya corpse or chop hay in board soaked in kerosene
Like in Japan women locate men who knows how to repair machine and operate a laundry as only loopholes left that aint official jobs they should not compete with women when SME are removed out of the fact of bringing ya own fake goods or foods and sell, jeopardizing economy when it has been made a franchise as Govt taken control of all aspects of production and the above only left as car wash r automated dude and taxi left. When people of male in nature in a nation like 60% knows how to repair machines as laundry, electronic, motor bikes, bicycles and cars then, they can open garage and diffuse the above as opposed to opposite dude, even if u got 1 car daily is something dude, gives u some cash and women should locate such more than anything as even carpentry overtaken as such furniture now made in the boom and even building and construction to make such people redundant in life dude and even plumber work can do, so think twice in this new years of the next generation as snow shovel any1 can do provided u got the machine, so aint a shit as much as lawn mowing u cant pride on such dude
People who went via private schools in beef with those who gone to Public, since they are more into the Govt they block the majority who went via public schools and forms the larger percentage of voters, so vote 4 ya own even if in tribe dude, cause out of the above will block ya and favor 1 who went through private if u gone via public and vice versa, a thing not known dude as they say, they helped create much employment as compared to ya and paid much as they valued education so why triumph over them and moreover they can relent and invest as compared to the public school goers and even with colleges dude. Get to private schools if possible to second ya ways dude
Detect human urine using this machine, instead of pointing figures mistaking others, if u got cash dude, if not be mum dude
https://www.amazon.com/Detector-Flashlight-Detects-Kittens-Puppies/dp/B01A27V5EA/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8
Write Nairobi city CBD from this rd to this road, as u write and step on within CD hole on hay with sugar or tangerine, heap sea water with grass or lake water with hay as floating on water, then wash ya feet in surgical spirit with kids and women your other hand steadfast on metallic hook from the wall and boom ya city in water lands or in Normal land heap guava and hay or chop mango on board soaked in milk and with Any city just write as above and Step on the above or another something else and chop many veggies/fruits/berries/leaves in wood soaked in any one fruit, leaves, berries not in the heap above and even in grass, hay or cereals both raw and dry or even on starchy foods and boom ya town or wash feet as above in mixed alcohol drinks, juices, spirits, detergents or the extracts of all mentioned above as u try on those locations as named above dude
Edmonton Canada, such people love elder people or hidden things, a people who loves respect and of few words, got such u got that Canadian blood dude, they love people who talked as tipsy or under influence of animal, who partially cares not as their women dude, and love, early morning and torn/old things dude
http://www.world-guides.com/north-america/canada/alberta/edmonton/edmonton_maps.html
On tea land next to the roads u can place the short range laser lights or alarms to detect the same on such frontiers dude as in the link below as u hide the panel in coolers within moisture absorbing chemicals or duvet/blankets or within under ya ceiling or tomb
https://www.amazon.co.uk/LEDKIA-LIGHTING-Non-Contact-Sensor-Activation/dp/B08GP62HHW
https://www.amazon.com/Detector-Vehicle-Display-Highway-Detection/dp/B08J81CQ1P
https://www.alibaba.com/product-detail/Tuya-smart-wireless-home-security-alarm_1600100727998.html?spm=a2700.7724857.normal_offer.d_title.55c27fcadno87g&s=p&fullFirstScreen=true
Many heat panels add the watts to make it same to that of solar panel that gets into the big inverter to power your house even in iron box, cooker, laundry without burning as in the link below
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsVvBZQkHaM
https://www.amazon.com/thermoelectric-generator/s?k=thermoelectric+generator
https://www.amazon.com/TEC1-12710-Thermoelectric-Peltier-Cooler-154Wmax/dp/B072TQX2RQ/ref=sr_1_2_sspa?dchild=1&keywords=thermoelectric+generator&qid=1610281928&sr=8-2-spons&psc=1&spLa=ZW5jcnlwdGVkUXVhbGlmaWVyPUEyRzBENlFRODZaM1pVJmVuY3J5cHRlZElkPUEwODk5Mjg0M0pGSzRXU1ZaTkJIWiZlbmNyeXB0ZWRBZElkPUEwNzYzMzU5MzhOQjkwQlBaQU40NyZ3aWRnZXROYW1lPXNwX2F0ZiZhY3Rpb249Y2xpY2tSZWRpcmVjdCZkb05vdExvZ0NsaWNrPXRydWU=
https://www.amazon.com/Power-Inverter-Charger-240Vac-Output/dp/B00O805FO4/ref=sr_1_8?dchild=1&keywords=10000+watt+high+power+inverter&qid=1610282027&sr=8-8
https://www.amazon.com/AIMS-Power-Continuous-Temperature-Indicator/dp/B008HSAX8G/ref=sr_1_35?dchild=1&keywords=10000+watt+high+power+inverter&qid=1610282027&sr=8-35
https://www.amazon.com/s?k=100+amp+solar+charger+controller&ref=nb_sb_noss_2
What bring spirits, many women along ya way and not made an affair with them and getting that way dude
Will not help, something am a grown up and should stop eating on the road, will not help, what u gonna do, now that betting is being ilegalised and tea can be taken cold without repercussion and even vegetables when taken super hot of artificial nature destroys not ya teeth but with vice versa and with fruits destroy ya teeth when taken ripe but not raw, so u know the antidote cause that way as if not with consequences thwart the economies of the growing nations, and so truth should surface even in chain stores of differential pricing. My money little even if u monitor me will not help or save the day dude. Sell ya house to 1 as u claim to want to sell to me, to get them off me dude
Equity close the a/c dude i told ya and WSU keep the cash or give me faster, don't get into 1 cash yet his plight not solved, Russia warn putin dude, that's not the way, he campaigned himself and even if payed peanuts and his own shit not ours dude. Let gays and snakes be identified and shot down to end all these dude, from dusk to dawn dude. Your kids next people, making their manhood rise, cause they blow that smoke next when close to ya to indict ya or the kid apply a chemical 4 the same dude, keep ya kids off people and if special special to ya dude, stop disturbing me with that, i will kill ya with ya kid using voodoo, if continue to disturb me dude. Kenya poor and how will u wait and make all machines as other nations also make, stop bro, u r poor u r poor, or like betting closed in Uganda, call 4 siren gas and kill all who have refused to hear up on the same issue dude
U wont get to people house and share their food as yours previously u could not share, u of alcohol and betting tricks as described earlier dude, don't play cool with me dude u of pulp wood with Congo now made artificially even known to ya, rude at 1st just laughing in absentia that all will get to Congo as they ship illegally winning women dude to start the above without 2nd stance bro. Stop and locate ya comfort zone of what u can do best and be there stop disturbing one u know not dude, What u want dude, USA u will not attack to take their wealth and SA or Tunisia u will not go and steal again lest killed and my food as u r grown up u wont share with me 4 more than a week, locate ya hustle dude and with TEA the above dude and every theft blocked as always explained bro. If continue some1 will stub 1 with a knife if police pro-act not dude and blame game on ya dude
Eliminate cash once and for good dude as in the link below the fear cropping the above dude
https://www.atmmarketplace.com/news/rototype-cashless-atm/
https://www.atmmarketplace.com/blogs/cardless-cashless-and-contactless-will-this-be-the-new-normal/
https://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/rototype-cashless-atm-to-revolutionize-nigerias-e-payments-landscape-279763402.html
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