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hualianff · 3 years

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Mi Amor(tentia) II 《I》

Every Sunday, XL personally delivers the ingredients to HC to restock after each week. Sometimes it’s during the morning before classes, HC inviting XL to stay and chat over coffee.

Other times, it’s in the middle of HC’s classes because XL’s only has so many chunks of free time to drop the ingredients off. XL usually keeps himself scarce as he helps himself to deposit the ingredients off on HC’s desk in his office.

On days XL is especially busy with classes, meetings with outside personnel and tending to the school’s greenhouse, his sixth-year teaching assistant, BY, will deliver ingredients to HC.

HC is easily the person XL enjoys spending time with the most. They have such fun conversations and HC makes XL feel so comfortable and listened to. Plus, HC is undeniably charming and handsome. XL thanks whatever higher power there is that someone as refined as HC took XL under his wing.

XL has learned and observed that HC is a professor that students either love or hate. Some perceive the potions professor as sketchy-looking and unfair in his grading. They take HC’s pushing as ridiculing, then complain about their poor marks after refusing to do the bare minimum of the assignment.

(Unbeknownst to HC, XL has taken it upon himself to passive aggressively warn these students from bad-mouthing HC in the hallways.)

Understandably, The first year students absolutely cower in HC’s presence. But from fourth year and up, HC is one of the most loved professors. When HC begins to passionately lecture with really big hand gestures and funny word combinations, the students can’t help but admire him with starry eyes.

(Student: “Hua Lao Shi, I don’t think ‘impossibleness’ is a word.”

HC: “It is now. As I was saying, don’t let the impossibleness of a goal influence your confidence in working towards it. You should not pay attention to whether something is possible or not, but rather focus on what steps you’re taking to find your answer.)

He’s clearly smart; intellectually based from the readings he assigns students from his own books; socially as his humor is always on point and he never misses a beat to tease his students; and emotionally because HC does not tolerate bullying in his house or his classroom. (Nor in the school, if he can help it.)

HC himself was bullied back in the muggle orphanage and during his time at Hogwarts. He knows what it feels like to wake up dreading going to classes and interacting with people who had nothing better to do than put others down.

So while HC can seem intimidating and blunt at first, he genuinely has his students’ best interests and wellbeing in mind. Witnessing how seriously HC takes his job as a teacher and trusted adult figure, XL’s feelings wrap around him like vines and squeeze him in their hold anytime he’s around HC.

XL’s never had a crush like this before.

Later in the semester, XL and HC are chosen as the professors to monitor the first years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. There is no doubt the transfiguration professor, SQX, took part in pulling some strings to make this happen for XL.

What no one knows is that the defense against the dark arts professor also played matchmaker. In an intense game of wizard's chest that unfortunately ended in his defeat, HX was forced to nominate HC to go with XL.

HC and XL make the best guides. XL is very enthusiastic in answering first years’ questions while HC is good at describing things through muggle terminology.

During his years at Hogwarts, XL has always loved the Hogsmeade trips and bought new candies from Honeydukes each time. In fact, he has a huge sweet tooth that he can never satisfy. Cue XL showing the students around Honeydukes and HC buying all of XL’s favorite goodies in the background.

When it’s time to move on to the next store, HC presents the bagged sweets to XL with a smile.

(XL, staring at the bagged sweets: “San Lang! You shouldn’t have!”

HC, grabbing XL’s hand and physically transferring the bag: “Nonsense. Gege deserves a reward for working so hard lately. Giving him a few candies is the least I can do.”

XL, clutching the bag tightly, fingers tingling from brushing against HC’s own: “If you insist. Many thanks, San Lang.”

XL snacks on some sweets for the rest of the trip. HC watches with a pleased eye.)

One day during finals week before winter break, XL falls ill with a terrible migraine. He’s been prone to migraines for a while now, which he’s used to enduring with medicine tablets that don’t do much to ease the pain.

XL manages to get through his morning classes. But by lunch time, his stomach pain worsened tenfold to which HC, who planned on having lunch with XL, convinced the herbology professor to take the rest of the day off.

“But my classes-” XL’s voice breaks off as he winces as another wave of nausea sweeps through his body. HC puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I will fill in for you,” HC assures. XL looks like he’s about to protest, however, the potions professor holds a finger up to his lips. “I can quickly brew something up for your pain. You like the smell of eucalyptus, right? I can add a faint scent to soothe your sinuses too.”

“San Lang…”

HC fixes XL with a pointed stare. XL’s face softens, eyes closing in defeat.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. Without thinking, HC reaches over to cup XL’s cheek, sliding back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before massaging his temple.

“It’s not a problem. Gege needs rest.”

Luckily, HC doesn’t have afternoon classes lined up for the afternoon. Once XL has retired to his room to relax, HC settles behind XL’s desk as students filter in for class to take the final exam.

(Students who had potions that morning entering the herbology room: “Oh shit-”)

Between classes, HC completes the tasks written in XL’s planner he left during lunch. Unfortunately, HC has a certain TA who sidles up next to him out of nowhere, whispering inconspicuously, “I know you have the hots for Xie Lao Shi.”

HC, who had been marking scrolls, jolts in shock. His left hand streaks across the parchment, leaving a red trail in its wake.

(Student who receives his scroll with a huge red line: “The fuck???? Does this mean it’s wrong? Do I need to do it again?”)

HC ignores BY as he continues about his business. Except BY rolls a chair right beside the desk, her prying eyes making HC feel like he needs to cover more than just his right eye.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady-”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady,” BY repeats in a nasally voice. HC tightly clenches the pen in his hand. BY, unfazed about testing HC’s patience, sighs pitifully. “Sorry, Hua Lao Shi. I swear, I’m only trying to help.”

“Help with what?” HC asks, attempting to remain oblivious. BY gives HC a deadpan. “Ok, fine. How could you possibly help?”

“Well, I heard that Xie Lao Shi might be crushing on another professor-” HC chokes on his spit. “-and maybe you two…”

BY taps the tips of her pointer fingers together.

“What!?” HC aggressively clears his throat. The scrolls are long forgotten now. “H-how do you know?”

“He told me,” BY reveals, smirking like the devil’s child.

“Who is it? Tell me more,” HC demands.

“Ah ah ah–you first.”

HC can’t believe this girl who has him cornered is the same timid third-year transfer student who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He bites his tongue, reluctant to discuss his person of interest with a seventeen-year-old. BY just sits there, looking unbothered as she examines her nails while waiting for HC to cave.

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before HC admits it.

“Fine. Yes, I like Xie Lao Shi.”

“What do you like about him?” BY asks immediately. HC itches to take points from Hufflepuff; what is this, an interrogation?

To no one’s surprise, HC spends the next half hour praising XL’s selling points (which are all of them) and subtly hinting how plans to ask the herbology professor out soon. BY unhelpfully inputs that HC needs to confess his feelings first.

“And then he needs to accept your feelings too,” she adds, much to HC’s irritation.

“I thought you were helping me?”

“I am,” BY smiles innocently. “By listening.”

“You’re not going to tell me who…?” HC falls silent, glaring at the last scroll he finished grading. A glance at his watch indicates there are fifteen minutes left before the final class of the day begins.

“Of course not. I don’t go around spilling professors’ secrets, especially Xie Lao Shi’s,” BY says. HC nods in resignation.

BY doesn’t tell HC shit in the end, yet somehow made him unload a few things about his feelings regarding XL. HC supposes she was right about the listening part.

Must be some sort of witchcraft. (HC tells himself that XL definitely would’ve laughed at this thought.)

Strangely, HC feels better after this little confessional session. Though he is incredibly curious as to who has caught XL’s eye in this school. HC’s heart painfully twists in on itself at the possibility that it’s anyone but him.

HC desperately hopes BY’s rule about not sharing secrets applies to him as well.

《III》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #HP AU #cerdrabbles #TBC #Banyue is menace #she and HC are close though #XL simps club #no I still don’t support JKR

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freckles-and-jalapeno · 3 years

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First Snow

Word count: about 5K 🎧: this Originally I posted it on AO3 in 2 languages, English and Russian. Check it out if you'd like! Other than that, I hope u enjoy! 🌟

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First snow...

No, we’re not talking about that pathetic, grey, mashed potato-like mud that makes your socks wet. It’s not those soggy pieces of cold white cotton wool, blown into the folds of your scarf by the wind. And it’s not that icy-cold frost that bites into your cheeks and ears, ruffles your hair and pierces the layers of your coat and sweaters. It’s that warm, pure December snow that quietly falls from the sky in soft flakes.

- What fine weekend weather we‘re having today! - happily said Tonks as she was crunching on her cheese toast. - Last week, you said exactly the same thing about the snowstorm - remarked Talbott, briefly looking up from his book "Transfiguration Tips for Young Wizards and Witches".

"What’s wrong with enjoying life?" Tonks would have answered, but since her mouth was still full of food, she only managed “Fffoosss wwonkk ittph eehooaaifff?”

Indeed, everyone at Hogwarts was in high spirits: the winter holidays were in full swing, half of the tables in the Great Hall were removed to accommodate beautiful Christmas trees, and students from different houses were allowed to sit together. Y/N, Tulip and Bill were the first ones to arrive for breakfast and attack the apple oatmeal; then Talbott and Tonks joined them. The air was full of joyful hubbub: the owls, who already delivered their morning parcels, were hooting and flapping their wings; students were rattling with their spoons and cups or loudly discussing the latest gossip from The Daily Prophet . And yet, there was one man in the castle who did not share the common joy.

Charlie has entered the Great Hall and tragically plopped down next to Tonks. - It’s a nightmare. I asked Francesca Wayne out on a date, and she agreed. - And... isn't that good news? - Bill gestured with his spoon of oatmeal towards his brother. Coincidentally, some oatmeal flew off the spoon, soared over the table and sludged right onto Barnaby’s shoulder.

- Her agreeing to go on a date with me was good. - Charlie said. - We were strolling around Hogsmeade, and everything was swell until some fifth-year Slytherin student unexpectedly jinxed me with the Tarantallegra charm. I began to tap-dance like a madman!.. And then it got worse. I was still dancing by the time Fitwick showed up. He did cast a counter-spell, but.. - Charlie covered his face with hands, and now was talking through his fingers. - ...by that time I had already managed to plummet into some mud nearby… I suspect it was porlock’s dung. It smelled all the same. Basically, I looked like a complete idiot ... oh, crickey!

Just at this moment they noticed a group of cute Hufflepuff girls passing by. For some mysterious reason, all girls had their hair gathered in a neat, long ponytail. The tallest gal from the gang stopped and waved in their direction.

- Hee-hee! Hiiiii Charlie! .. How are your legs doing today? ..

The feeling of shame caused Charlie’s face to take on a shade of beet.

- This is officially it. I quit girls. From now on, I will become a druid, go somewhere like Egypt and will only be dealing with dragons.

- Oh come on, Charlie! Don’t mind Francesca! - Y/N reassuringly patted her friend on the arm. - You know, I often see her in Potions class: she hides behind a cauldron and picks her nose, thinking that no one can see her.

- So true, - Tulip signed with her brows. - I bet she’s eating her boogers, too!

The whole company burst into loud laughter.

- But seriously though, - continued Tonks. - Let's forget everything about these bloody incidents and celebrate the weekend properly! Let's visit Hogsmeade, buy some butterbeer….

- Take a look at Zonko’s! ..

- Blimey, how could we forget about Zonkos’ for a split second?..

- Actually, this might be a good idea. I do need a new moke leather bag...

- I”ll get some sugar quills! ..

And so they agreed.

* * *

After shoving themselves into warm sweaters, hats, and mittens, they headed out of the Courtyard together. Bill, Charlie, and Tulip were walking in front, followed by Talbott, Y/N and Tonks. The group chatted about the upcoming semester and wondered which subject will have them writing most essays. Shortly thereafter, they met Professor Snape, grouchily making his way back to the castle, and they started proposing different versions of why he wasn’t around much these days and what mysterious business he was up to. Finally, they had an argument about what kind of festive pudding the elves would be making for the last day of holidays. Talbott betted galleons to Fizzing Whizzbees that the pudding will have strawberry flavor, Y/N voted for lemon, and Tonks - for cherry.

The road was gradually getting covered in white. Snow was sneaking into their boots, and the wind was merrily propelling them forward.

Suddenly, when friends were walking past a small brome grass field (now frozen and covered in snowdrifts), a large snowball glided through the air, furiously whistling all the while. It crashed directly into Tulip’s hood and majestically exploded with snowflake glitter.

- What the %#!*i9&! - angrily cursed the Ravenclaw as she turned around in search of the culprit.

Tonks was standing a little further away, now mockingly tossing another snowball up and down.

- Haha. One-zero, Karasu. C’mon you guys, we can't just walk away from this much snow.

Tulip shook her head to get the snow out her hair.

- Well, you're doomed, you little pink-haired witch! - she yelled and lunged herself at Tonks.

- Look at yourself, you tomato head! - metamorphine shouted in response and dashed away from her friend, laughing uncontrollably.

Unable to resist such good fun, the rest joined the battle, which was about to become the greatest strategic snowball battle in the history of Hogwarts.

They split into 2 teams. While one of his teammates was distracting the others, Talbott would conjure gigantic snowballs and avalanche them onto the heads of enemies via Wingardium Leviosa. Meanwhile, Tulip sneaked up on Charlie using a disillusionment charm; she grabbed his red hair and dipped him into a snowdrift right up to his neck. Bill, suddenly filled with brotherly instinct, jumped in front of Y/N and covered her from a charge of Tonks’ snowballs with his body. This sacrifice, however, turned out to be utterly useless, as the very next moment Charlie doubled the snow artillery in her direction; so much so that he knocked Y/N’s cap off.

At last, they tumbled in Madam Rosmerta's pub as one noisy lump of fun and laughter: cold, wobbly and covered with snow, but lively and carefree nonetheless.

- A table for six, please! - Tonks demanded in a jolly voice.

- For six? M’dears… - a low pitched, cackle-like noise came from a table at the very door.

It was professor Trelawney who tremulously perked up from underneath her thousand and one sherry-scented shawls.

- I think I heard I ... saw that you wanted a table for six? But did you know, m’dears, that the ancient scroll of prophecy specifically says NOT to sit down at a table on the sixth day of lunar December, if you are a group of six? The last one to sit down will lose a friend on the very same night ...

The group of friends exchanged puzzled glances. Of course, no one believed in Trelawney's predictions, but it was still very uncomfortable to hear things like that.

- Here, please. - Madam Rosmerta appeared in front of them before anyone had the time to reply to the terrible omen. She led the group up to a cozy table next to the fireplace.

- Blimey! What rubbish this old blind cat is saying this time? - Tonks hissed.

- Nonsense, like the usual. Every tea leaf class she’s now predicting a painful and a horrible death for just about everybody. Woo-o-o-o! Some dark forces are hovering over Hogwarts… - Y/N mimicked professor Trelawney’s voice and gestures. - But when aren’t they?

- Right. - nodded Talbott. - Besides, no one has died so far.

- Uh .. Well, who wants to sit down last? - Charlie asked hesitatingly.

- I’ll go! - volunteered Y/N.

- Suit yourself. - shrugged Charlie and hastily sat down.

- You don't believe those silly predictions, do you, Charlie? - Tulip settled down on a nearby chair. - Take a look, there are so many people around here sitting in groups of six. This doesn’t mean they will all lose a friend overnight ...

- Numerologically speaking, it is simply impossible, - added Bill and sat down, too.

Tonks sat down next to Bill. Talbott thoughtfully gazed at Y/N for a moment, and then he silently joined the others. Y/N was the last one to sit.

Without listening to friends’ endless squabble about Trelawney's competence, she stretched her legs towards fire, feeling blissfully warm and tired. Today was such a good day. And Madam Rosmerta is about to bring butterbeer for everybody! ..

- While we’re here, - Tulip cleaned her throat, - we need to make sure that there is enough of the wonderful drink for each one of us.

She took out her wand and pointed it at the glasses with beer.

- Engorgio!

The glasses had grown twice in size. They weren’t glasses anymore, really - they were jugs.

Bill raised his jug in the air:

- Let's drink to friendship! - To loyalty! - To honesty! - To dung bombs! - To holidays! - To Hogwarts!

Comfortably nestled at The Three Broomsticks, friends were clinking their glasses and drinking, and then some more, and a little bit more. At last, when everyone started to feel the soothing and flushing effects of the caramel liquid, Tulip grabbed a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards from her coat.

- Alright, friends. How about we play some truth or dare? - she suggested.

- Since when does truth or dare require cards? - argued Charlie.

- Since today, you silly redhead. Highest card gets to ask. Lowest card gets to answer. I'll start, you chickens... Y/N, take one card, too.

Y/N stretched her hand forward and caught a card that jumped out of the deck. One moment later, the two girls smashed their cards onto the table. Charlie declared:

-Three of feathers and a phoenix. Hey, Tulip wins!

Tulip let out a wide mischievous grin.

- Y/N, tell us the truth then. Marry, flip, kill: Penny, Merula, Charlie.

Bill and Tonks immediately started to giggle and nudge each other with their elbows. Talbott and Charlie, on the other hand, straightened up in their chairs, leaned forward and stared at Y/N solemnly, without blinking.

After some thinking, Y/N tilted her head to one side and replied:

- Okay, I think I got it. I’d marry ... Charlie.

Tonks let out a loud whistle.

- I ... Uuhhh thanks I guess? - responded Charlie, blushing furiously.

- I would flip ... Merula. - continued Y/N.

- You mean you’d flip the greatest witch at Hogwarts? Ha-ha, that’s an interesting choice. - Tulip mightily slapped Y/N on the shoulder.

- Wow Tulip. - Talbott gingerly proceeded to remove Tulip’s hand from Y/N’s shoulder. - You pronounce “horrifying” differently than I do.

- Wait, so this means that you kill ... Penny? - Bill's jaw dropped in astonishment.

-Don’t get me wrong ... - explained Y/N. - She’s nice and all, but sometimes I get this feeling that she’s following me everywhere… and I mean everywhere. So yeah.

- Poor Penny. The sun-like creature who is always happy to see you. - Talbott chuckled. - And now, she has to DIE.

Their table shook from the loud cackling.

Brilliant! - Tulip clapped her hands. - The first round is over. Y/N, you won, now you get to choose who draws cards next..

Y/N chose Bill and Tonks.

- 7 of wands and 9 of stars! That was a close one, Bill. - Tonks’ face glowed up and her hair turned raspberry color. - So here is your dare, William...

- Oh no, no, no ... - Bill grabbed his red hair and started to crumple them.

- Don’t fret, dear Bill! I like you, so I will provide you with options... You can either ask Ismelda for a kiss or... you can kiss a garden gnome’s tummy!

Y/N and Talbott simultaneously snorted into their butterbeer glasses, almost choking on the drink. Bill, on the other hand, looked like someone had just asked him to drink a cup of newt’s goo.

- What bloody hell is this, Tonks ?? - he howled from annoyance and smashed his fists on the table. - There are NO gnomes in here!

- Most certainly there are. - Tonks replied calmly. - Take a peak at that table in the corner.

The table in the corner was taken up by Hagrid. He was quietly cooing with a small potato-like creature he had brought to the pub - apparently in secret from Rosmerta. At this very moment, he was feeding colorful Bertie Botts beans to the gnome.

- Merlin's saint underwear! - Y/N whispered reverently - It looks like Hagrid knitted a suit for him ...

And surely so, if one was to look closely, the gnome was dressed in a blue sweater and coarse-knit socks that were almost reaching the creature's thighs (if garden gnomes have thighs, of course). By some unknown coincidence, the gnome had no pants at all.

Bill looked at Tonks with the most touching expression Y/N had ever seen in his eyes.

- Can we play without the kisses?

- Hey, come on. I'm not asking you to kiss a Dementor, aren’t I? - Tonks just laughed in response.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss Ismelda)

I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I'll go out there and ask Ismelda for a kiss.

Charlie delightfully roared "Hallelujah!" and let a few green sparks out of the end of his wand. Tulip, Y/N and Tonks began to synchronously thump on the table and whisper: “Smooch! Smooch! Smooch! Smooch!”... Talbott threw his hands behind his head and settled himself more comfortably on the bench, getting ready for the spectacle.

... As a prisoner goes to be executed on a guillotine, that is how Bill Weasley was approaching Ismelda. The Slytherin gal was chatting with her fellow students at the bar.

- Check it out, it looks like she noticed him ... - Tulip started to comment on the action. - He’s telling her something ... great, they have contact! Come on, come on ....

- I almost feel sorry for him now - announced Charlie.

- Never let me forget this, ok? - Talbott smiled lazily.

Nobody else had the time to add anything because in the next second, the pub was filled with Ismelda’s shrilly wails, immediately followed by the ones of Bill. The girl, as one might expect, went absolutely berserk at Bill’s proposal and wacked him in the eye with all her mighty strength.

- Left hook! Fa-la-la…. A punch to the stomach! Fa-la-la ... And our hero returns ho-o- ome! .. - friends began chanting Bill's name merrily, with no tune or tempo whatsoever, which attracted even more attention to the oldest Weasley.

- Somebody please tell me why I became friends with a bunch of brainless doxies.. - Bill muttered under his breath as he was sitting down. He tried to say it with the most serious expression there is, but all the while his lips were quivering from a suppressed smile.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss the gnome)

- I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I choose to kiss Hagrid’s gnome.

- On the tummy! - abruptly corrected him Tonks. - Otherwise, you'll have to redo the dare!

- His tummy looks like pumice, did you know that? It’s crusty and hard and got some weird flakes falling off of it… And it smells just like my Great Aunt Tessie’s feet! - Bill exclaimed in anger.

- Stop whining! Just go already. While we sit here and enjoy ... - one could hear pure delight in Charlie’s voice as he was (for once) telling his older brother off.

Bill let out a sad sigh, got up from the table and started to make his way towards Hagrid. Apparently, the giant was not very happy to see him - the garden gnome would be considered quite a contraband for Madam Rosmerta, and she could forever ban Hagrid from The Three Broomsticks.

- Crickey, it's starting now! - excitedly squeaked Tulip.

The company stared at the show unfolding in front of them without blinking.

- Ah, it seems that the birds started chirping, can you hear? - Talbott said quietly.

- Fountains are sparkling, little hearts are flying in the air! - continued Y/N.

- Oh gosh, oh look! Oh, he’s kissing him!

As a matter of fact, it seemed like the angels themselves started crooning the moment Bill's lips softly touched the gnome’s belly button.

The friends doubled over with mirth. Tonks laughed so hard that butterbeer and snot started spewing from her nose.

But the gnome, as it occurred, did not like being distracted from his bean feast at all. The creature got even more upset as all the boundaries of his personal space were violated, and probably that’s why he suddenly growled and bit Bill’s nose. "Crunch!" - the sound echoed throughout the pub. Bill angrily yowled and burst out in obscenities. Now all the eyes in the pub were watching in his direction only.

- Yeh… What are yeh doing?! Stahp scaring the baby ... - Hagrid said gruffly and hid the gnome in his pocket. - Go back to yer’ friends, now, or he’ll start molting from stress .. And tis’ the worst, you know ...

Bill returned to their table, still rubbing his swollen nose in frustration.

- Oh, hey, Father Christmas! Did you bring us any gifts? - Charlie mused.

- I brought you a whipping, reptiloids... - Bill replied with the most serious face he could make, but his lips were quivering from a barely suppressed smile.

* * *

It was getting dark. While the group of friends was drinking and enjoying themselves at the pub, Hogsmeade was slowly being enveloped by velvet darkness. One after the other, the stars were lighting up. Here and there, windows of little shops and huts were blossoming in shades of orange. The garlands and wreaths, untouched after the holidays, were glittering with frost. Now there was cheerful music emerging from Madame Rosmerta's pub - those were the local musicians. They were playing flute, lute and tambone. One of the guests, who had a pig's snout instead of a nose, joined the musicians and started to grunt and beat on the drum. Many visitors picked up this joyous tune and began clapping and tapping to the beat - slowly at first, then faster and louder. One of the guests - a bubbly witch dressed in a lilac robe and a pointed hat - jumped from her chair, knocking over a mug of fiery whiskey, and began to dubstep dashingly with a goblin in a tweed jacket.

- Wowza, it's getting hot in here, - Bill said, wiping his beer mustache away. - Let's have the last round and head back. Talbott and Charlie, now it's your turn.

- My pleasure, - replied Talbott and drew a card.

Charlie drew a card with a higher suit.

- A perfect ending for a perfect day! As you can see, I'm a man of many talents, not only Quidditch. - Charlie boasted and gracefully ran his hand through his hair.

- Uh, yeah, except that quidditch sucks, - Talbott raised his eyebrows.

- You suck! - Charlie blurted.

- Mmm ... not as much as quidditch. - smirked Ravenclaw in response.

The young Weasley's cheeks turned so red that one could easily fry eggs on them if they wanted.

- Fine. Okay. If you do hate quidditch that much, maybe you’d care more for dancing? I dare you, Talbott Winger, to go out there and have the best time of your life on the dancefloor - yes, IN FRONT of the musicians! But of course I can’t let you suffer alone - sarcastically added Charlie. - Go ahead and invite someone to dance with you… if they agree to dance with a haircut like yours, that is.

Talbott squinted his eyes and examined Charlie’s face in disbelief.

- Uhhh ... I look cool.

- Pffft. Whatever you say. - the redhead let out a cheesy grin.

- I say I look cool. - Talbott replied calmly.

Tulip and Tonks audibly snorted.

- Now then… Who will be the lucky one to have the ultimate all-inclusive Talbott Winger experience? - asked Bill and started to tap his fingers on the table. The rest of the group picked on this beat and joined Bill, making the sound be a very accurate drum roll.

- Hmmm ... I know just who to take on this adventure. Y/N... would you like to dance with me? - asked Talbott and offered her a hand - I promise not to step on your toes more than three times.

- Oh? I thought you “fly solo”... - teased him Y/N as she was taking his hand and getting up from the table.

Talbott didn’t answer, just sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

The two entered the dance floor in an uncertain and shy manner. A new festive holiday song was just beginning. Another vocalist stepped onto the stage, bowed, and dimmed the pub lights with Nox . He then casually flicked his wand, created a few golden and silver wandering pellets of light, and then sent them floating around the pub. Soon, the music began to play, and the vocalist started singing in a heart-warming voice:

Last Christmas, I gave you my Hippogriff,

But the very next day, you gave it away...

Y/N felt that the majority of gazes were directed at her and Talbott - not at the singing wizard. What a strange feeling - to be in the spotlight. It got very hot; she felt a few sweat drops form and slide down her forehead. Talbott looked at Y/N with a weird expression on his face. He seemed to be slightly uncomfortable, too. Without changing his bewildered expression, he took Y/N's hands and placed them on his shoulders, then dropped his hands on her waist.

- Talbott ... I hope you know what you’re doing? - Y/N inquired quietly.

- What kind of question is this, of course I don’t know what I’m doing. - said Talbott with feigned confidence.

- Now I get it. You're winging it, Winger!

Both dancers burst out laughing. The tension was released. They began to move, jump and spin to the beat of the music. And even Merula's screams about how they looked like two prancing warty frogs could not spoil their mood. Maybe they weren't professionals and had no idea what they were doing, but they were having a lot of fun together.

The song ended. To Y/N’s great surprise, there was an applause from the audience! Someone from the crowd even threw them a bright, fragrant bouquet of orchids, freshly conjured from the air.

- For the record, I hate dancing. But it wasn’t all that horrible with you around. - Talbott said bashfully. - Maybe I should have gathered my courage and should have gone to the Celestial ... you know ...

Talbott and Y/N returned to the table, slightly out of breath after the dance and still holding hands. “Two brooos !! chilling at the Three Broomsticks! Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not friends!” - the others hollered and cheered and greeted the two back.

- Will you just shut up?.. - chuckled Y/N as she was letting Talbott's warm hand go.

* * *

It was time to return back to the castle. Friends were getting dressed in silence. All their wet clothes had almost dried up by the fire, and for those pieces that weren’t dry yet, they used their wands. Before leaving the pub, Y/N gave the bouquet to Madam Rosmerta. At the very exit, Trelawney's warnings came back to Y/N. It was so scary to think that on this night, according to the prophecy, she would lose a friend, and so she chased those thoughts away. As soon as the group stepped outside, contrast between the warm pub and icy cold air made them cough. Sniffing and cursing from freezing weather, they rushed towards Hogwarts down the snow-cleared path. This night was especially quiet: there was only the sound of snow creaking under their feet, and from time to time there came a bird’s distant cry.

- Bloody hell, we never bought anything, - Charlie complained in annoyance.

- Well… Let it burn, then. It will just be added to that list of four hundred things I have to do tomorrow ... or the day after ... or after.. or after .... - Tonks answered him with a loud yawn.

Friends were already approaching the doors of the castle when Talbott deliberately started to slow down. He stopped right in front of a path fork that was turning off the main road and leading to the owlery.

- Ummm... I need to send a letter to someone, - he said shyly, milling about the path. - Care to join me, Y/N?

“Hmm .. that’s a strange request, it’s practically nighttime... Something is fishy (pardon me, birdy) here.” - Y/N thought in her head, but out loud she only said:

- Uhh .. okay, sure. Let’s go.

After all, Talbott was her friend, and she had no reason to mistrust him.

The group of friends said their goodbyes and parted ways. Talbott and Y/N turned to the owlery. Tulip was waving at them a very long time after that, until their silhouettes blurred out, enclosed by the veil of snow.

Several minutes had passed since Talbott and Y/N were alone together. They were strolling down the path and talking about all sorts of things that happened during the past few days. The two of them were approaching the little towers of the Owlery rather quickly, and now only a small meadow was separating them from a brick staircase leading upstairs. In the summertime, the meadow was blooming with daisies and dandelions and was serving as a perfect playground for Puffskeins and Knarls. But now, the meadow seemed to have stopped in time: bare bushes were the only thing that was left from thick flowering plants; icy ground was tightly intertwined with fallen grass and wrapped in snowdrifts. Here and there, towered a few cedar pines, spruces, and chestnuts, but now they all were covered with white snow dust. For some reason, Talbott stopped walking towards the Owlery when they reached this meadow, and he began searching for something in his pockets. Finally, judging by the way his face lit up, he found what he was looking for. Aloof animagus beckoned Y/N closer. He was clutching something in his fist. As soon as Y/N approached, he opened his hand; there were two small luminous grains lying on his palm.

- What are these, Talbott? - said Y/N in quiet astonishment.

- These are midnight mint seeds, - he replied. - Professor Sprout gave them to me this Christmas.

- I have never heard of them…

- These are very rare. They can only be harvested once a year from underneath ash flowers. In places where you plant them, blood will never be shed again. - Talbott remarked in a lowered voice.

Y/N couldn’t stop staring at the grains. They seemed alive.

- Don't be afraid, touch them.

Y/N carefully raised her hand above the luminous grains and covered them with it.

- They’re warm! - not expecting that, Y/N let out a smile from ear to ear.

Talbott nodded. He looked straight into her eyes.

- I kept looking for an opportunity to plant them. Today seemed very special to me, and I decided to do it now. With you. If you want to.

- I ... of course I do! - Y/N’s cheeks and neck were rapidly getting covered with blush. - But aren't seeds planted in the fall?

- Not these. These should be planted in winter. They can only be planted under snow.

Y/N and Talbott knelt down and started preparing the soil for the seeds. They dug up a sufficient amount of snow, and then carefully placed glowing grains onto dead grass. They covered them with several layers of grey leaves and twigs, and then put a dense snow blanket above it all. But even through all these layers, the magic light of the seeds was shining through. Moreover, it seemed to have intensified and was now pulsating. For a brief instant, the pulsation stopped, and little blue stars began to emerge from under the snow, where the seeds were planted - similar to mini-fireworks. The stars took off and fell, crumbling and shattering into smaller pieces and dust. But the most spectacular thing that two friends were now hearing was... singing. It was a wonderful, calm and solemn melody without words. It was sung by the grains! Y/N had never heard such music before; she felt how her heart was opening up because of this melody. If someone had looked out of the Owlery window at that moment, then through the veil of a starting blizzard, they would have only distinguished a soft blue light illuminating two young faces floating above it.

The singing ceased; the blue light also faded away. Friends were silent for a minute, as if they were afraid to destroy the soothing feeling that the magical grains have produced within them. Finally, Talbott said in a hushed voice :

- You know, I didn’t actually need to send any letters. I just wanted to spend some time with you but without those dorks. So ... Thank you for being here with me.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he was smiling softly at Y/N.

- It was my pleasure, - she answered quietly.

Talbott rose and brushed the snow off his knees. He then reached out his palms towards Y/N to help her get up, but he did not let go of them after that.

- There was something else. Care for one more dance with me?

For the second time during that evening, Y/N and Talbott were dancing together. But this time it was so much different than it was in the pub!! Instead of all the noise and din of The Three Broomsticks, soft spruce paws were playing them a silent symphony of winter. It was a melody of silence, a melody of bright joy, a melody of snowflakes and wind. This melody cannot be heard unless one would actively try to listen to it. The snow was falling inaudibly. It was cascading from the sky in large flakes, performing a couple of waltz motions with the dancers, and then laying down on the ground and sparkling merrily under their feet. These instants were filled with a sense of miracle: without any magic or magic wands.

- You know, dancing like this is so much better than having to dance while hundreds of thousands of eyes are staring at you. - Y/N noted.

- Agreed.

Gradually, without noticing it themselves, two friends stopped dancing. They were now standing across each other, looking at individual snowflakes on their faces and hair. Every now and then, several small crystals would shiver and gravitate down, but they would never reach the ground as they would melt in a cloud of frosty haze from their mouths. It was very quiet now. Soft light was being reflected from snow and onto their cheeks, flushed from the cold.

- We might freeze this way. - said Talbot, slightly smiling.

Slowly and gently, he unwound his blue and silver scarf and wrapped it around his own neck first, and then around Y/N's neck; now their heads were even closer to each other, connected by knitted threads. Y/N could see his face much more clearly now. She could see glitter in his brown eyes, his every eye lash, every mole, she could smell the herbal scent of his shampoo ... she could even feel the warmth of his breath.

- What I actually wanted to tell you, Y/N, - Talbott said softly, - is that the longer I think about it, the more it seems to me that professor Trelawney was right about her prophecy.

- H-how do you mean? - stuttered Y/N.

- You’re about to lose a friend because I don't think ... I don't think that I can stay friends with you any longer ... I want to be much more than that, - Talbott whispered and leaned over toward Y/N's lips and kissed her.

It was a light, subtle kiss, but Y/N could clearly feel the warmth gently spreading among her skin. And then, another kiss followed … and one more ... and one more.

All the while, the snow was falling - soundlessly, tirelessly, tenderly.

* * *

Much later, after going back to her dorm in the Gryffindor Tower, Y/N had been sitting on a windowsill for a very, very long time. She was looking through a window, wreathed by frost: at the icy lake, at never-ending fields, covered with silver and at the...

First snow.

46 notes · View notes

boymeetsweevil · 6 years

Text

Dead Man Sells no Toes

Grouping: Witch!Reader x ??Namjoon

Word Count: ~5.2k

Summary: Your thoughts have a mind of their own when it comes to the cute delivery human with the mysterious tattoos

Warnings/Themes: SMUT like basically PWP but also where is that plot, sis?, 69, fingering, blowjobs, cunnilingus, mind reading, species-ism? Too many Halloween Town references, Joon with tattoos (lol is that a warning) , its unedited rn

A/N: This is my late af submission for the BTS Smut Club Halloween Smut Fest. Prompt #18 “Please don’t touch the human remains”

You’re grinding up the last of your final case of artificial dried newt when the sound of the crows cawing alerts you to a customer entering your shop. It’s still early, and though you do get customers throughout the day, they’re usually fairly consistent in the times that they come to pick up their orders now that you’ve been open for business for almost 8 months.

“Hello, dear,” a creaky voice greets you.

There’s no visual sign of the body the voice comes from, but that’s not at all unusual and you know exactly who the customer is. It’s the old ghoul who comes in regularly to get a fix for her wrinkles. She’s a couple hundred years old and it’s starting to show on her face, so she comes in without an appearance every time she’s out of product. The unusual part is that you just gave her a fresh batch yesterday; one that’s supposed to last her two weeks. If she’s back and without a form, something is wrong.

Your familiar, Augustus, and his best friend flap down from their resting post on one of the high shelves to sit next to you on their respective perches on the counter. You set the half-ground newt aside and reach out to pet at Gus’ inky black feathers.

“Eudora,” you nod at the air in front of you out of habit, “How can I help you today?”

“I’m sure you can guess, child. It’s your youth elixir,” Eudora says matter-of-factly.

“I figured as much. Did it not work this time? Because I promise you, I used pure Italian imported moonbeams, like I always do.”

“No, no. I dropped it, so I have no idea if your moonbeams are the issue. It’s all over the floor of my kitchen and its reverting the wood back to shoots!”

“Oh,” you breathe. It’s a relief that your recipe is still working, though you know your gifts wouldn’t fail you in such an elementary area. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, so I’d like to purchase another batch now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because I can only ever make so much with the shipments of dead man’s toes I order each time and you clear me out every time you’re in here.”

“Are you telling me you don’t have any toes? Because I can see a carton right behind you! I may be invisible right now, but I still have my eyesight about me.”

“You’re right, I have some left,” you put emphasis on some, “But that’s reserved for other customers’ orders. I can’t use all the toes on just your orders, that’s not fair to the others.”

“I have an anniversary dinner tonight. Isn’t this more important than anyone else’s order?”

You suppress the urge to sigh and roll your eyes. Eudora may be difficult at times, but your youth elixir is ingredient heavy and time intensive and you charge a hefty price for even smaller samples. But thanks to her vanity, she pays for a rather large amount each time. You’re almost certain that you could pay the whole shop’s monthly ley line bill with just the profits from her orders alone. This time, though, your hands really are tied.

“I can’t violate my customers’ privacy by revealing to you what products they’re purchasing, but I can assure you that some of the orders that require the dead man’s toes are quite important.”

Eudora’s quiet for a moment as she contemplates her options.

“Well, what about leftovers? Can’t you do something with that? Make a smaller batch?”

“I could,” Augustus pecks at your long bell sleeve until you stick a hand out so he can hop up your arm and perch on your shoulder. “But it wouldn’t even take a half-century off. I don’t think you’d be happy with that after getting used to the original strength.”

“When’s the next shipment coming in?”

You pick up the parchment that has your list of scheduled delivery dates. Turn it over so that Eudora can see it, though you’re not sure where she’s standing exactly.

“Perfect,” the scroll dents as she sticks her finger on the most recent scheduled delivery. “It’s scheduled for today.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you realize you don’t have the schedule memorized correctly. A wave of giddiness washes over you and suddenly you need Eudora out of your shop so you can clean up and get things looking presentable.

“I’ll just stop by later today to pick it up. You can do a rush order, can’t you, dear?”

“Eudora, you know I can’t. Potion making really is a delicate process, you can’t rush it even if you buy those new high-tech speed catalysts everyone keeps talking about. If I were to rush your order, you might experience reverse effects.”

“Oh,” she gasps. “Alright, fine. I suppose I can wait. Alan won’t mind seeing my haggard face this one time.”

“Allan loves you face, regardless of whether or not you’ve used the elixir. Besides, you’ve been paired ghouls for centuries longer than you’ve been using my little old mix.”

Eudora scoffs. “Your little old mix is what makes Allan cough up the extra urks to take us to Cauldron Bleu tonight.”

“Then, I suppose you had better go pick a dining robe.”

“Yes, I really should. But I expect a batch double the size next time around, child.”

“As long as you know that’ll cost you twice the amount, Eudora.”

“I don’t care how much it costs as long as I look how I should. I’ll see myself off, now.”

You wave goodbye, knowing she’s not looking, and tell her to have a good day. You receive no response, but you’re expecting as much.

“Is she gone,” you whisper after a while.

Augustus and his friend squawk an affirmative, so you turn around and immediately put the newt you were grinding in the store room. The large sundial on the north wall tells you that you have a little less than an hour to clean up the shop and perhaps put an enchantment on your skin and hair to make you look a little more put together. For professional purposes, you remind yourself. Not to make yourself more pleasing to the delivery man’s eye, of course.

While you’re in the middle of trying to get your broom to sweep the snippets of rat’s hair from the last hair growth cream you’d been experimenting with, the bell rings again. You curse under your breath and wipe your hands on your apron.

“Welcome to Circadian Apothecary, how may I help—oh, its just you. What are you doing here, Jolluck?”

“That’s a great way to greet your friend.” When you stare blankly at her, she rolls her eyes. “You said we’d have lunch today, remember?”

The wet sound of her webbed feet smacking across the floor remind you that you’ll have to mop after you kick her out. She rests her forearms against the countertop, smudging the surface with the thin, clear mucus that coats her scales when she leaves water for longer than a few minutes. You’ll have to clean that too.

“Can we please take a rain check? Or maybe we could get dinner. I just…I have a delivery coming.”

“Oh! With the human! I’m sticking around. I wanna see him.” “Jolluck!”

“What? Is that not what he is?”

“You don’t know his background.”

“You’ve smelled him right? If it smells like a human and it looks like a human and it walks like a human, it’s a human.”

“If he’s human, how did he cross the veil, huh?”

“Humans cross all the time.”

“Only when they’re screwing vampires, though!”

“Or werewolves,” she points a webbed finger at you.

“True,” you purse your lips. “Either way, you can’t be here. It’ll be weird if you stare at him.”

“You just wanna keep him for yourself. I heard he’s not bad-looking for a flesh puppet.” She grins and swipes her tongue across her fangs playfully.

“Jolluck, seriously, you can’t think about him like that if you want to be here. That’s so offensive.”

She raises her hands in surrender. “Sorry, when did you become such a fan of humans?”

“I’m not a fan, I just…think they’ve changed a lot since the pitchfork days.”

“You’re just saying that because you went to their realm for schooling. Why did you do that again?”

“I swear I’ve told you this, like, 20 times. I think they have a really interesting way of understanding the elements.”

“I heard they’re kind of wrong, though.”

“No, they are. But they raise some interesting issues. And they have some really nice stories and their view of history is so funny. They don’t realize half of their royalty were just warring Goblin tribes that got a little land hungry.”

Jolluck’s eyes widen and she lets out a laugh. “How could anyone not know that? That’s so sad, they’re such simple creatures.”

“Yeah, well, they’re still not as bad as anyone here makes them out to be. And I think you and the rest of town hall needs to stop crowding Namjoon.”

“Fine. But don’t let him know you’re so smitten with him. He’ll try and burn you at the stake or something.”

“I told you, they don’t do that anymore. Oh shit!” You spy him out the corner of your eye, wheeling the cart full of your new inventory towards the front door. “Don’t say anything stupid, okay?”

You say a few words, an unnecessarily powerful hex, and the air crackles around your heads. A sudden gust of what seems like wind runs through the shop before circling back and passing through you roughly. When it clears everything is glistening likes it’s just been freshly scrubbed, but you’re instantly weak and visibly paler.

“Are you crazy?” Jolluck runs to your side, her wet footsteps evaporating off the wooden floors like she never stepped there. “All this for a human male?”

“Look, you can see your reflection in the countertops,” you smile dizzily at her.

Namjoon stands politely in front of the glass, waiting for the shop’s magic to acknowledge you of his presence. Seconds later the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, though you know he’s there because you can see him. With a feeble flick of your wrist, the door opens. He rests his open palm on the doorjamb as is customary and pulls the dolly laden with goods behind him.

“Morning,” he greets, with his back turned to you so he can set the boxes on the ground. His bare arms flex as they work to keep the glass jars inside from jostling. The tattoos running from wrist to shoulder are a web of black lines of varying weights. They suit him.

“Hi there.”

He turns quickly at the sound of Jolluck’s voice and notices that she’s holding you up like she’s carrying your dead weight because she is.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon,” he takes a few hesitant steps forward until he can make out the swirling pattern of Jolluck’s scales. He gestures towards you. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. She was just biting off more than she can chew and now she’s half dead. Isn’t that right?”

“Shut up,” you mutter.

You manage to prop yourself up on the counter so you can look up at Namjoon. A large, sleepy smile parts your lips as you take in his adorable dimple and plush lips. He really is very nice-looking, regardless of what the townspeople say. You don’t even mind his smell that much.

His cheeks flush and he bites down on his lip, grinning at his shoes.

“Are you okay to check the inventory and sign off?”

“Hmm, yeah. I just need a drink. Jolly, can you get me a drink?”

She huffs, but brushes past the heavy velvet curtain to find a bottled energizer somewhere in the back of the store room. She returns moments later with a little glass flask that’s stopped with a cork. Which would be fine if you had some strength in your arms, but you’re still very much 80% noodle.

“Namjoon, you can open this, right?”

“Sure,” he smiles and takes the jar from you. His hands are oddly soft for someone whose job consists of heavy lifting and sorting through tons of perilous ingredients to sell to people like you.

Your head lolls to rest on your shoulder and you wonder briefly what his hands would feel like against the skin of your waist or your arms or your inner thighs. He chokes a little and nearly drops the vial but manages to snap it out of the air before it can shatter.

He gives it back to you wordlessly and wipes his now sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants.

“So, what do you have for me?”

“Just the usual shipment.”

“I know, but maybe you can, uh, read it out loud for me. Jog my memory?” You’re being over the top, you know it. But you really like his voice, too. Everything about him is just so…nice.

“Alright. The first thing on the list is standard toadstools, a grade and rehydrated.”

“Hand-picked?” You take a shot of the energizer.

“By yours truly.”

“Nice,” is all you say as you eye his hands once more.

Jolluck leans over to hiss into your ear. “This is disgusting and I’m starving. When are we doing lunch?” “When he stops telling me everything I ordered,” you hiss right back out of the corner of your mouth. “What else is there?”

“There’s more lilac, sage, thyme, and wolf’s bane. Those are all local except for the sage. But I got you a good deal at the market.”

“How nice of you.”

As he lists the other supplies he brought with him, you take the time to nurse your bright green energizer and look Namjoon over some more.

Perhaps you spent too much time in the human realm, but you really do think he’s loads better than that daemon boy Yoongi, who breezes through the shop every so often to show off his solid gold watch collection. Namjoon is tall and nice, and always has a pretty blush around you. You don’t even mind the way he smells, it’s actually not as bad as you remembered during your time at human college.

“Sorry about not bringing the dead man’s toes. I guess the graveyards were a little empty this week. But that’s everything, I think,” he says with finality, folding his list and shoving it in his back pocket. He begins deconstructing the rolling cart he took with him, now that it’s no longer in use with the boxes having been unloaded onto the ground.

“Oh.”

You can’t help but be disappointed that your time with him is ending so soon. And right when you got your strength back, if the tickling hum running through your veins is any indication of the energizer’s effect. So much energy is coursing through you that some magic starts to spark out of your fingers. You quickly hide your hands behind you back, not wanting him to see the sparks and think you’re some young witch with no control over her magic. Although, wiping yourself of nearly all your energy moments before he arrived just to clean the shop sounds like something you might have also done when you were a mere teen.

Jolluck emerges from the stairs in the back that lead to your apartment on the second floor. “Your cabinets are all empty. And your fridge. I’m going shopping.” She waves something that looks suspiciously like your wallet, the urks in it jingle mockingly.

A thought pops into your head, so you decide to just run with it.

“N-namjoon, do you think you could stick around? I’m still feeling kind of shaky and Jolluck is heading to the southern market.”

“The southern market? Why would I go there when I could just go to the one by the Elder woods?”

“Just go,” you give her a smile of mostly bared teeth. You turn to Namjoon again, once Jolluck is out the door. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind. Where should I put them?”

“In the back. I’ll show you.”

You wait for him to pick up the first box, relishing in the way the muscles in his back bunch and coil as he hefts it up into his arms with a soft grunt. He follows behind you quietly while you lead the way.

“Wow.” He takes in the rows and rows of shelves behind the curtain. Each one packed full with various ingredients or preserved things for rituals that are shelf-stable. “You’re no joke.”

“Guess you could say that,” you lean against a wall and watch him open the box. “I was the top of my classes.”

“In witching school?”

“And at a human college?”

“Really,” he stops to peer down at you. “So, you don’t mind humans, then?”

“Not anymore than I mind the folks here. They both have their ups and downs.”

“And I suppose you’ve heard what everyone’s had to say about me?”

He holds up two jars of pickles hooves, unsure of where to put them. You push yourself off the wall and take them from him. He follows behind once again to move the box, and hand you each jar as you stack them on the appropriate shelf.

“I mean, people definitely like to talk to me about you.”

“About my being a human?”

“Yeah, sort of. But probably more because you’re human. People think I love all things human just because I went to school with them.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“About humans?”

“About me.”

Before you can stop yourself, your tongue sticks out playfully between your teeth. “You really wanna know?”

“I do,” he smiles down at you, another jar in hand.

With a crooked finger, you beckon him closer and he moves in with head cocked to the side. You lean in close enough that your lips just barely graze the shell of his ear. He shivers.

“I don’t think you’re really human,” you whisper before grasping the jar and tugging, but it doesn’t budge.

Namjoon stares down at you, wide eyed, before snapping out of his surprise and tugging the jar back, bringing you stumbling with it.

“How’d you know,” he says back in an equally hushed voice.

“What’s that saying you guys have? The nose knows?”

“It was because of my smell? Seriously?”

“What can I say? I spent a lot of time with humans while I was at school with them. I know that smell anywhere. And you do smell like them, but…you also don’t.”

“How do you know it’s not just because I spend a lot of time fae people?”

“Is that why?”

“No,” he grins. You swear it must be a trick of the light, but his eyes flash unnaturally for a second. “My dad was human, but his dad was a seer and my mom was a quarter elf.”

“I knew it. You smell too much like silver to be a human. Not enough copper in you.”

“Congrats on guessing right.”

“Can you do any magic? I know it tends to be weaker when it’s not matrilineal, but genes are funny things.”

“I can’t do much outward production. Mostly just life-force projection, see?”

He pushes up the sleeve of his T-shirt and flexes his bicep, bringing the tattoos into focus. You realize upon closer inspection that they’re moving now. The lines weave together in a periodic fashion, an organic rhythm. Like the tides or another being’s pulse. He pulls up the hem of his shirt to reveal that the tattoos continue down his flanks and spread onto the ridges of his otherwise flat abdomen. Your hand itches to reach out and traces the lines. Would you feel his life-forces thrumming under your finger? Would yours expel to meet his? Were they even compatible enough to do that? You hoped so.

“Wow.”

“I can also um,” he trails off.

“You can also what? You can tell me. Is it embarrassing?”

“Not for me,” he smirks. When you squint out of confusion, his cheeks color and he looks down at the ground. “I have level 2 telepathy.”

“Oh. That’s cool. Why is that embarrassing?”

“I mean, it’s not embarrassing for me. But it sometimes is for other people. Since it’s combination mirrored and tactile telepathy.”

You choke on an inhale and get sent into a coughing fit when you realize that Namjoon can feel your thoughts about him on his skin. It’s probably a side effect of the tattoos he has, so it’s probably not super strong, but it still means that every time you made eye contact with him and thought about how broad his shoulders looked, he felt it in his shoulders. All those times you’d lusted after him while he brought in your orders, he’d felt them.

“I am so sorry,” you gasp with tears of embarrassment pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Had I known, I would have never, ever asked you to stick around so much. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable. For what its worth, I am truly sorry.”

“It’s really fine. It’s a lot better than what everyone else was thinking when they thought a human had managed to infiltrate town to burn everything to the ground.”

“But still! You shouldn’t have to endure either of those. You could have sent your friend drop things off, I wouldn’t have gotten offended. I just… I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s really fine.”

“How could it be fine?”

“Because I wasn’t bothered by it,” he admits with a soft smile.

Silently, he takes your hand and places it just millimeters above his forearm. Your life-force, a pale yellow liquid fire, crackles up on the edges of your skin and tangles with his own syrupy black one. A phenomenon that occurs when life force resonance frequencies are compatible.

“Shit.” “Yeah,” he parrots back quietly. “Shit.”

You take a chance and hurl yourself at him. The force takes him by surprise and you manage to knock him onto the floor, barely missing the box containing precious jars of dead man’s toes. But you don’t care because his instantly come to skate up your arms, down your back, to cup your butt. He squeezes appreciatively and lets out a low groan when you reward him with wet, open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck.

His hands find their way underneath your uniform tunic and press brands into your skin. You keep kissing the parts of his face in a disorganized fashion. First his chin, then his clavicle, then the deep dimple in his cheek, and finally the corner of his mouth. He turns and captures your lips with his own, startling you into submission. At first, he explores the landscape of your mouth with fervent presses and caresses, but eventually he grows curious enough to probe. His tongue sneaks out to lick at the seam of your lips and you open up for him immediately, air from your pants puffing out in between you.

The feeling of his tongue sliding lazily against the tip of yours, dancing along the tender inside of your lip, has you clenching in vain. You move unconsciously so his thigh slots in between yours and begin to rock your hips against him, hoping for a bit of friction.

He chuckles against your mouth before pulling away from a soft, slick sound. “In a hurry?”

“Yeah. I want you to fuck me. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

He curses when his hands finally meet the globes of your breasts. They’re free in the loose material of your tunic and they make for a pleasant weight in his large hands. His thumbs come out to swipe a finely mirrored pattern over your nipples. When you respond with a high whine, he twists them roughly. Almost as if he has control over them, your hips snap against him. Your writhing over him eggs on the growing erection in his trousers, which you can feel nudging your pelvis with every inward thrust.

Your life force is excited enough from the amorous activity that its flowing steadily around your limbs like a ribbon satellite. You ignoring the way thick globules of Namjoon’s life force start to raise from the tattoos to trade spots with some of your own fiery energy. You read about what that means once, but now you couldn’t give two shits about whatever class notes you internalized from school.

“Namjoon, touch me,” you whine when the beginnings of your arousal start to soak your underwear.

“I thought I was touching you.”

You roll your eyes and redirect one of the hands that been rolling your breasts down into your pants. He hisses at the sticky coating that drenches his fingers the moment you pulled your underwear to the side for him. He crooks two fingers and traces your hole as best he can with his wrist turned awkwardly. You shift until your heat sucks him in and begin to grind your clit against him. His other hand snakes around to grab at your ass semi-roughly.

“That’s right. Get yourself off on my hand.”

“I don’t want to cum like this,” you pant against his neck.

“How do you want to cum?”

“On your tongue,” you admit. You’re glad he can’t see how hot your face got, but you let out a yelp when he shifts his palm even closer to your heat.

“I like that idea. Get up here.”

You scrabble onto your knees above him and slip out of your clothes as best you can without kneeing him anywhere important. As soon as you’re bare, his hands land on your hips and tug you until you get the hint and shuffle forward until you’re almost seated over his chin.

“You smell good,” he says with a deep inhale. He stretches his neck out and presses an open kiss to your clit, making sure to suck as he pulls away, bringing moisture with him. He licks his lips clean before doing it again and again until you’re shaking and have to brace yourself by leaning forward on your hands.

Finally, he pushes down on your hips, motioning you to sit on his face properly. The moment that you do, the flat of his tongue comes out to collect the dew and undulate against you in broad strokes. When he reaches your entrance he dips in shallowly, collecting more of your arousal, and then repeating. During the first few swipes of his tongue, you try to be courteous of his neck and face, try not to overwhelm him. But once he starts slurping obscenely, your hips move on their own accord. You grind yourself sinuously on his tongue, moaning without any restriction.

When he adds a thumb into the mix, rubbing at your clit, so he can attempt to fuck into you with his tongue. Your head drops forward and you notice that Namjoon is still wearing all of his clothes. You decide this won’t do and put your weight on one hand so you can undo his trousers with the other. It’s a little fumbly and it takes a few tries, but you manage to not only loosen his pants but also push them and his underwear down far enough that his erection can swing forward. You swipe away at clouds of his life force that are happily bumbling around your hand and stroke the length of his shaft. He’s not expecting the sudden touch and jumps, bumping you a little bit.

You spit into your palm before going back into to stroke him in earnest. Its doesn’t take long for your arm to get tired trying to jerk him off from your far away position. You try to inch forward without moving out reach of his mouth.

“Why are you moving away,” he mumbles against your inner thigh.

You don’t answer at first, so he sucks a teasing hickey on the sensitive skin there, causing you to nearly topple over face-first onto his lower stomach.

“You’ll see why. Just be patient.”

Soon you’re hovering over his pelvis and readjust your lower body so that you’re still positioned over Namjoon’s mouth. He tries to peer up curiously but the feeling of your mouth engulfing him instantly clues him in to what you’re doing.

“Fuck,” he groans at the feeling of you bobbing the warm, wetness of your mouth over his length.

The tip of your tongue nudges at his slit and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Before he gets too caught up in the feeling of you caressing the bottom part of his slick shaft, he returns to your center. He starts licking back into you with a vengeance, almost like he’s competing with you. His head moves up and down with the added force his lips parting your petal-soft folds. Your clit is still trapped in the loop of constant figure eights that he skates over the nub. You whine around him and the vibrations wring a moan out of him.

He senses that you’re losing the battle with your orgasm. The way your thigh’s tremble on either side of his head clues him in as well. He pulls back briefly and you hum around him from above.

“Ride my face,” is all he says before gripping your thighs and pressing you tightly against him. He flexes the body of his tongue before shaking his head back and forth against your clit.

The direct stimulation short circuits your brain and you nearly forget to keep jerking him off while the quakes of your high take over your body. Short, choked breaths leave you as you climax, dripping onto his tongue and the lower half of his face. Part of you bemoans the fact that you won’t see his face when he cums, so you soldier on as best you can and redouble your efforts to make him feel good as well.

Almost like a feedback mechanism, your indecent thoughts coupled with the actual onslaught of your mouth have him giving you all he still can until you sneak up on him with a well-timed deep swallow as he thrusts up into your throat and just the right amount of pressure near his perineum. His body goes rigid as he spills into your mouth, and you bob your head to milk him of every last drop. Even after muscles in his thighs stop rippling, you suckle lightly at the tip to clean him up, and he squirms under you out of sensitivity. “Please don’t touch the human remains,” he drones with closed eyes, feigning death by blowjob.

“Oh, stop it,” you drum your fingers against his abdomen. “You’re not even human.”

“Not completely.”

“At least you’re not dead.”

“No, I think I am. I think you swallowed my soul.”

“Well, if you’re really dead, can I borrow your toes?”

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entergamingxp · 4 years

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Forgotten Stories is an Amazing Skyrim Mod, and You Should Play It

May 26, 2020 1:00 PM EST

Sometimes, you find a mod that defies expectations and becomes a worthy game in its own right. Enderal: Forgotten Stories is one such mod.

Enderal: Forgotten Stories is a total conversion mod for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Developed by a dedicated team of German modders by the name of SureAI, the first version of Enderal was released back in 2016. The updated Forgotten Stories expansion from 2019 saw a number of additions to quests and content, as well as a standalone release on Steam. It’s the definitive and complete version of the tale, and is worth playing again if you’ve only dabbled in the original previously.

This mod completely replaces the landmass and setting of Skyrim with an original one, and overhauls most of the gameplay systems as well. Skyrim’s general DNA is still inevitably present in movement and systems, but the way it works is wholly redone. It is less the freeform “do whatever you want” simulator that Skyrim quickly becomes; Enderal is instead a focused, story-driven RPG with a splash of open-world content that better utilizes the space. There’s less reliance on scaling enemies, and more on not reaching into areas beyond your means, as the story will nudge you there when you’re ready.

That story, world, the characters contained within, and the full span of Enderal’s adventure? Those are so fantastically realized that it feels disingenuous to call Enderal a mere mod. It easily transcends the boundaries of Skyrim, overcoming many of the gameplay issues and lacking elements of its source material. Having finished it recently, I now find myself thinking of Enderal not as just a Skyrim mod, nor even its own standalone game and RPG.

I now think of Enderal: Forgotten Stories as one of the best video games I’ve ever played.

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Since Enderal hasn’t left my mind for long since completing it, I feel that it’s important to I write this down and share it. I want to talk a bit about Enderal’s design and gameplay systems. I’ll cover a little about the story and characters (in non-spoiler terms), as well as how emotionally devastating its ending is. And finally, I’ll briefly touch on the many ways it shines a light on all of Skyrim’s greatest weaknesses. I’ve come to develop a more negative view of Bethesda’s most recent mainline Elder Scrolls foray, and Enderal has helped me put all of that into words.

In the interim, I urge you to go and check out Enderal: Forgotten Stories at your earliest convenience if any of this has sounded slightly appealing to you. It’s comprehensive enough to have its own standalone Steam page and installer, with many Skyrim mods that are considered “mandatory” baked into it already. In fact, it’s comprehensive enough to have its own mods also! Go there now, pick it up, and see for yourself. This is something special, and the SureAI team deserves the attention and spotlight.

Skyrim: New Vegas

Enderal takes absolutely no time in laying its cards on the table for you. The opening scene is a gorgeous, sun-baked vista of a lush garden near sunset. It’s idyllic, pushing the graphics of both the base game and the included ENBoost and graphical mods to the max. It’s also very clearly wrong, with something uncanny about the whole scene lurking just below the surface. A quick glance around the place will see that uncertainty grow, with the culmination of that scene making it crystal clear. I won’t spoil specifics; once again, I urge you to check it out, and the introduction alone should demonstrate that you’re in for a ride.

More cutscenes and important setup will follow, including character creation. The first area or two play out like a tutorial, helpful both for newcomers and those familiar with the workings of Skyrim. All throughout, the placing of story elements and themes has begun, and seeing that all eventually culminate more than makes up for its “slow” start. More importantly, you’ll get through the first scripted dungeon and be greeted by a sun-swept vista not unlike the one from the intro. This game is utterly gorgeous. The continent of Enderal beckons forth.

Mechanically, the game might be a little bit off-putting for Skyrim veterans. That’s not to say it isn’t good; Enderal simply does away with the learn-by-doing skill system for something more focused. Killing creatures and completing quests give experience, and experience thresholds grant you a level-up. You’ll choose health, magicka, or stamina and get a selection of points with which to invest into specific skills. You can’t just plug these points straight into your skills, though.

“It feels disingenuous to call Enderal a mere mod.”

Memory points are your big talent/perk purchases, which are applied through a much fancier in-game version of the Skyrim perks. It’s not just opening a menu and clicking a constellation: here, you meditate to reach a bizarre shrine in your mind, where physical stones reflecting the perk trees are represented to interact with. In addition to the passive powers here, you’ll unlock talents which function like dragon Shouts. These have individual cooldowns rather than global ones though, so mixing and matching them in combat is far more useful than Skyrim‘s counterparts.

For general skill levels, you need to acquire and study a learning book of the appropriate skill and quality. Doing so increases that skill by 1. Want to get One-Handed from 15 to 16? You’ll have to scavenge or buy a One-Handed learning book of the apprentice difficulty. To get beyond 25, you’ll need an adept book, and so on. Skills have been split between learning and crafting, with the latter being less directly tied into combat trees (Alchemy, Enchanting, Lockpicking and such).

This means that you cannot master everything in a single playthrough like you might in Skyrim. Builds become important, and swapping to a new combat style on a whim requires some investment. This would probably not go down well in Skyrim; open exploration carries that game, and diversity in one’s playstyle can alleviate a sense of repetition after long sessions. Enderal wants you to think about your build and develop a roleplay attachment to your avatar, instead. As you’ll see from the heavier story focus, that becomes increasingly clear as you play.

Experience also becomes a premium resource. Enderal isn’t as large as Skyrim, but it’s far more curated. Leveled lists and scaling rewards are barely a factor here, and bandits won’t suddenly find late-game armor. Completing side quests and exploring where you can now helps you progress your build. Given that the game can be pretty difficult in the early hours, that’s a good mindset to embrace. Exploring is a good idea, right up until you cross a boundary you probably shouldn’t have and get completely murdered.

“Enderal feels to Skyrim as Fallout: New Vegas did to Fallout 3.”

There’s further incentives for exploring carefully as well, with rare pickups that can grant bonus experience or even permanently increase your carry capacity. Set items now exist and are quite powerful when combined, and rare crafting schematics or learning books are scattered across the land. The fact that everything feels hand-designed instead of just generated en masse helps the world seem more real. Thus, when the plight of the story starts to ramp up and affect the continent I’d grown attached to, I felt it all the more from seeing it myself.

Still, even with all the benefits for exploring, Enderal is a comparatively more linear game than its source. Modern Elder Scrolls games are happy to let you wander off the beaten path for a hundred hours and ignore the main story entirely. That’s not at all encouraged for Enderal; in fact, unlike Skyrim, you are seriously missing out if you don’t engage with the main quest. Major biomes of Enderal’s landmass are gated off by the challenge they represent. You can go there and try to survive, but generally the main story will introduce you to it once you’ve progressed far enough to be ready.

In this way, Enderal feels to Skyrim as Fallout: New Vegas did to Fallout 3. Obsidian’s Fallout foray was more linear and focused than its predecessor’s open-world jaunt around post-apocalyptic Washington, D.C.; wandering too far would get you torn apart by Deathclaws. This lack of freedom was exchanged for much sharper writing, a better plot, and more narrative options and choice. Enderal feels as if it’s done much the same to Skyrim, and given how fantastic the story and characters are, it’s a trade I’d make a million times over.

The Adventures of Jespar (featuring the Player Character)

Leaving the tutorial dungeon brings you to a secluded valley within Enderal proper. There’s a few treasures and hidden secrets to be found there, but eventually you will have to follow the path that leads beyond. That one path will see you encounter a couple of apothecary NPCs, who explain a little more about the world you’re in.

Attempting to leave will see you overcome with Arcane Fever; this is both a story point, and one of Enderal’s new gameplay mechanics. It functions similarly to Fallout’s radiation, increasing when exposed to magically dense areas. Most importantly, Arcane Fever is exacerbated by using magical healing and potions. No longer can you just open your inventory and chug twenty potions to heal up, as this’ll quickly raise your Fever. Get too high and you’ll start having negative side effects, and at 100% you die outright. Food items don’t heal much in combat either, but out of combat? You’ll get a satiated buff that will regenerate your health over time, so you still want to stay fed. It’s a clever little way of balancing Enderal’s combat and making it less absurd than Skyrim.

Nonetheless, you find out about this system shortly after the apothecary conversation ends. It’s here that you’ll meet Jespar Dal’Varek, one of the major NPCs of the game. He leads you into the main story quest for Enderal, but he’ll also take the time to chat you with if you want to ask questions. By the end of that first segment of the game, I was ready to follow him anywhere. Jespar is one of the more well-written and constructed NPC companions I’ve had the pleasure of encountering in video games. He’s a very easy-going sort and it’s clear why they introduce you to him first, but the cynical and anti-idealist side of him comes to the fore if you start asking.

In fact, there will be side quests and conversations entirely focused on getting to know some of the side characters better. These were usually highlights in my playthrough, which should give you an indication of the quality of these characters. In Jespar’s case, this is further strengthened by such fantastic voice acting that you’d almost forget this was a free mod. In fact, his voice actor Ben Britton has springboarded into the industry off his work here. Small wonder that Jespar is the focus character in the writer’s spin-off novel (the audiobook is also voiced by Ben).

“By the end of that first segment of the game, I was ready to follow Jespar anywhere.”

Jespar might be the first and most prominent, but he is far from the only character worth remembering in Enderal. Throughout the main quest lines, you’ll be introduced to a slew of primary characters, many of which have just as much depth as him. The interactions of these characters both with you and each other really sell the narrative being told, and it was very easy to grow attached to them (or to loathe them, as the situation demands).

I cannot stress how strong the writing for Enderal truly is. It’s not just the characters either; the entire game world is incredibly well designed and presented. The continent is built on a religious caste-based society with heavy stratification, and you’ll have the opportunity to investigate and interact with each level of it. You’ll argue the pros and cons of religiosity, discuss the nature of life, death and reality, or dive into a magic system which literally plucks aspects from alternate timelines in order to function. Whether through its world-building, characters, or overall narrative, I found myself hopelessly drawn in by Enderal and wanted more.

All throughout, the main quest runs through the bulk of the continent and takes you to appropriately leveled zones when the time comes. Each arc of the quest finds new ways to introduce spectacle, to develop the characters, and to ramp up the stakes and scope of the plot. There’s sections that are presented with better tension and horror than most horror games can manage. New difficulties will arise, characters will be hurt or even killed, and victories will be tempered with losses. Before I knew it, I’d been playing for over a hundred hours and had fully cleared the map; that’s something I’d never care to bother with in Skyrim.

Very quickly, you’ll realize just how big the implications of the story are, and this will continue without letting up until the conclusion of the game. And that conclusion is something else. There’s a sense of uncertainty and tension throughout the entire story, and neither the characters nor the player are ever quite sure that what they’re doing is the correct answer. Like everything else, this will build up to a finale that was so brilliantly handled and emotionally charged that I was reeling for days afterwards.

Finding the right words to describe it all without delving into spoilers is a difficult task. Much as I’d love to do so and start gushing in fantastic detail, that’s not the point of this editorial. Besides, it’s really something that I would rather people experience firsthand. Suffice it to say that Enderal’s writing and story is excellent, with quality that holds true until the very end. I expect that I’ll be thinking of some of the climactic moments for a long time to come. It really is that fantastic a tale.

“This will build up to a finale that was so brilliantly handled and emotionally charged that I was reeling for days afterwards.”

I have to take a moment to credit the sound, also. Enderal: Forgotten Stories might be a free mod, but it has an excellent and fully original soundtrack composed by Marvin Kopp. It’s so strong that I’ve been using it as background music while writing this piece, and will probably do so for future writing sessions. It also is fully voice acted, with absolutely fantastic voice direction. Not every actor is as professional as another, and there’s a couple of outliers that really hurt to listen to in the cities and side quests. But the primary cast deliver some fantastic performances, and most seem to have at least one scene that catapulted them from good to exceptional. All of the sound really helps carry the narrative that much further into greatness.

It’s not without flaw, of course. The pacing is generally good, but there is one quest near the end of the game that comes across as quite rushed. An important detail for the plot is revealed, and then immediately an NPC blurts ahead three steps in rapid succession. It was such a sudden guess about what was happening that it felt like random speculation, yet it was completely accurate. I suspect this was to get things in position for the finale without compromising that sequence, so it’s forgivable. Even so, the good far outweighs what little bad I could muster. Enderal is a story worth experiencing, and I’m genuinely glad I did so.

The Post-Enderal Lens on Elder Scrolls

It’s probably quite obvious at this point, so let’s address the elephant in the room: I don’t particularly like Skyrim.

That statement is usually enough to tank a game writer’s credibility given its reputation and scores, but hear me out. It wasn’t a case where I hated the game on purpose and refused to touch it from there. Skyrim took up a good hundred hours of my time, and even more once mods (besides Enderal) entered the scene. I completed the main quest and all the major faction quests, played through the DLC, and tried numerous different builds. There was a fun enough experience to be had, but I won’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy my time with it.

The problems that I have with Skyrim emerged only after time and reflection. My first Elder Scrolls game was Morrowind, and it is still possibly my absolute favorite game ever. Skyrim was unlikely to live up to that completely, but it still falls short in almost every metric. I replayed Morrowind in full a few months ago, and I only came away from that slow, ancient game loving it even more than previously. Nostalgia is not what pushes that game ahead of its follow ups in my eyes: it’s the richly detailed and exotic world, the flexible design, and the many guilds and factions to dive into that make Morrowind so strong. We will probably never get another game quite like it.

When I think back to Skyrim, I don’t think of any of that. I think of going off on random adventures and losing myself in the wilderness for a few hours. I’ll accumulate gear, get stronger, tick off increasingly more quest markers from my list, and just continue going through the motions. Bethesda’s approach nowadays seems less about making high quality content, and instead making more content. Whenever Skyrim has the opportunity to provide depth or meaning, it comes away lacking. The gameplay is more action than RPG when compared to its predecessors, but the mechanics are lackluster and simplistic.

Most don’t even seem to bother with Skyrim‘s main quest, though I pushed through and completed it. Still, barely any aspect of it really stands out in my mind or impressed me. By contrast, the main questline in Morrowind is the highlight; so too is the main quest line in Enderal. So many moments of Skyrim that could’ve been something more end up feeling like yet another item crossed off the list. I could go back now and still probably play it for tens of hours if I wanted, and I’d probably enjoy it. But if I wanted depth, I’d only find an ocean-sized puddle. For all its vaunted freedom to play it as you want, that’s all Skyrim can ever offer you, no matter what else you might desire from it.

Enderal: Forgotten Stories felt incredibly refreshing to me as a result. It took all the potential of Skyrim’s size, condensed it into a large but focused story, amped up the presentation and mechanics, and proceeded to deliver one of the best experiences I’ve had from any RPG I’ve played. If ever there was a game that nearly elicited the same sense of wonder I got from Morrowind, it would be Enderal, not Skyrim.

Morrowind isn’t the only titan of RPGs I’ve had the pleasure of playing recently, either. In the last year, I’ve sought to play or replay many of the titans of PC RPGs. I grew up with the likes of Baldur’s Gate 2 and Planescape: Torment, and I revisited them recently with fondness. Contemporary RPGs like NieR: Automata, The Witcher 3, and even Final Fantasy 14: Shadowbringers all have stirred strong responses in me. Yet even amongst all these heavy hitters, Enderal left such an imprint on me that it absolutely deserves to be discussed and compared alongside them.

“If ever there was a game that nearly elicited the same sense of wonder I got from Morrowind, it would be Enderal, not Skyrim.”

The Elder Scrolls 6 is a long ways off, and the last few showings of Bethesda’s games have been less than spectacular. I have no real anticipation for what’s to come from them. When you consider what a German modding team managed to make with that framework and deliver it for free, it just cements that feeling all the more. Instead of looking to that distant horizon, I’m instead prepping to go back and visit SureAI’s earlier works. Enderal isn’t their first game; they made a similar mod for Oblivion called Nehrim, set in the same world and apparently of equal quality. Nehrim is getting its own stand-alone Steam release in June, and there is no game I’m looking forward to more than it right now.

If you happen to like RPGs, I heartily urge you to go check out Enderal: Forgotten Stories. Regardless of whether or not you think highly of Skyrim, there’s a really incredible experience here that is a worthy game in its own right. You don’t even need to install Skyrim to run it, just own it. Even if you have to buy the unlisted original edition of Skyrim to play, since it doesn’t run on the Special Edition, you should still consider it. Believe me when I say that it’s worth it.

May 26, 2020 1:00 PM EST

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/05/forgotten-stories-is-an-amazing-skyrim-mod-and-you-should-play-it/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=forgotten-stories-is-an-amazing-skyrim-mod-and-you-should-play-it

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st33d · 6 years

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Sandman

I’ve tried a lot of sandbox games over the past year. Mostly driven by acquiring a PC and leaving my Mac to its scheduled obsolescence. Playing games on a Mac is like playing Doom on a calculator. You celebrate that it works, it actually works, but it usually fails to be more than a proof of concept. When I switched back to a PC I discovered an entirely new realm of stubborn design. At least it wasn’t getting slower with each update and it deigned to play all manner of toys. Being quite turgid for roleplaying games I set about catching up with every RPG the Mac had denied me and checked out some more for good measure.

A common feature I discovered in many of these games is what I call the Back Breaker. You lift the game up high, then crash it down over your knee, broken. You are now free to explore the game how you choose - all of its secrets are laid bare. A lot of people get very upset at the inclusion of Back Breakers in what they hope will be a game with an ever ascending skill requirement. The notion that the audience is primarily there to explore is an insult - where, they ask, is the game? Personally I like this feature, I like that the end game is to become a god. This is why a lot of you will disagree with my assessments.

Skyrim

The sticking point for many people with this one is the combat. It’s dour grey-brown landscape invites a comparison to Dark Souls (I’ll get to that one in a bit) so people like Matt Lees will remark that Skyrim is an inferior counterpart. If you’re looking for tight combat in Skyrim, then like a 1st edition iPhone 5, you’re holding it wrong.

It insists you take it seriously over an unskippable introduction to the most tired hook that any roleplaying game can throw - the prison break. After shaking your screen as hard as it can with an assault by a dragon you are thrown into a scant and confusing interface in a land of ugly robotic people who are super fussy about what time they’re willing to sell things. On my 1st playthrough it got dark, so dark I couldn’t loot the mages I was killing for their expensive robes. I quit and rerolled a khajiit, purely because the wiki told me they had nightvision. It wasn’t until much later I discovered that there were many means of creating light, some of them causing fantastic AI behaviour (I nicknamed the spell Magelight; aggro-ball). Some short way into the terrible main quest line I thought, “sod this”, and went in search of the mage college to learn how to blow things up like some of the monsters were doing. This haphazard adventure was some of the best gameplay I’d ever encountered. A scared lowly girl-cat, picking her way through a hostile landscape in hope of learning real magic. Typical that when I finally arrived at the college I encountered the first blatant design wall in the shape of an unclimbable pillar that the college sat on. I barely had the mana to cast the spell that would prove me worthy to train there. A few hours later I was the archmage of the college. It would take many more hours before I mastered glitch-riding: taking the cereal box collision space of my horse and rubbing it against the prettiest parts of the scenery until it yielded to let me ride vertical. Out of the many hours of play the only real low point was getting turned into a vampire, I had to look up a wiki on how to cure it and reload many times because the quest to stop vampirism is broken.

There are many Back Breakers in Skyrim - I chose twin dremora lords that I chain-summoned to lock up the AI. But truly it is Skyrim’s pretty mountains and their unresolvable collision meshes that are the best. Only after hours of play does one develop an art for sniffing out details that defy edge-case-programming. Skyrim is a perfect mess. I know why they keep re-releasing it, they got lucky. One need only play the Dragonborn DLC to see Skyrim at its worst. It is a hard game to recommend, for it is not really a game, it is a thing both ugly and beautiful.

% out of 10

The Witcher 3

“Stick with it”, they say. Few games deserve such an epithet as this one. The controls are fiddly. One’s inventory is so dense with options that I didn’t realise that my potions refilled themselves until I’d nearly finished the game. After which my character sported full-body-priapism as I quaffed every decoction available. The turning point from hating this game to loving it was a side quest where a character caught Geralt off guard when being subject to the witcher’s advice - the townsfolk declared him a freak not because he was like Geralt, but because they were intolerant of homosexuals. I then got drawn further into the man’s drama. Every single story this game presents is trying to be Not So Simple. It’s a manifesto that leaks into the game’s bestiary that tells you not only what a monster likes for dinner, but your best tactics for killing it. But then, it’s Not So Simple as killing a monster, there is always another layer to each story.

It took at least three score hours of gameplay before I started skipping some of the many cutscenes. One of them was the infamous sex-on-a-stuffed-unicorn. It was a fault of the main storyline being so lackluster. I never really cared for Ciri, I found her even more fiddly to control than her tutor. But the extra layers that surround it: the Bloody Baron, stupidly shagging Keira Metz, the numerous detective scenes - they all carry this game. It is a shame it takes a few hours for it to reveal itself.

I must commend the map design for being sensible enough to be broken into several parts. You first explore a tutorial village before moving into war torn Velen and its haunting soundtrack. Here you work until you can gain passage to the north, the islands, and your home. Many sandboxes simply give you one map to conquer and contort it to stop you wandering into the final challenge. It’s refreshing to move on to a clean map, full of new challenges and surprises.

I couldn’t be arsed to play Gwent.

Trophy out of Archgriffin

Zelda: Breath of the Wild

This game has three stages: Delight, Depression, and Exploration.

Delight

Oh wow, there’s so many things to do. And so many things interact with one another. The sense of discovery comes not only from reaching new locations, but also finding new ways for elements to interact. Of course wood burns. Of course burning creates an updraft. Of course metal conducts electricity. Even after many hours of play there are still new things to find. So strange that the game is as dense as it is... empty.

Depression

Ugh, I don’t have a horse and I’m in yet another blank area. Ugh, I lack just enough stamina to climb this mountain, I’ll have to start all over again. Ugh, I can’t stay in this area because I take damage and the food I eat to stop it only lasts ten minutes. Ugh, I complained about all of this online and everyone keeps saying, “I don’t have a problem, the game works fine for me, Git Gud.” As often as I meet people who have played this game in excess of 100 hours, I also meet people who have played it for less than 10. If you are unlucky, if you don’t make the right connections, if you don’t stumble upon the right thing, this game is truly depressing. Made more so by the amount of people who cannot fathom why anyone would have trouble with the game. And yet there are many that do. It is not really that they need to be better at games, it is merely because they have not found the Back Breakers. Or worse, they do not appreciate them.

Exploration

After needless hours of collecting (grinding) you find yourself in possession of armour. You upgrade the armour again and again and suddenly the cloud of depression is lifted (if it was ever there). You are free to explore any edge of the island, you simply need to wear the right threads. At this stage of the game you have found many secrets but still keep finding more. Korok seeds, the OCD baiting puzzles, become a delight to find. It’s hard to remember the game ever being frustrating, but it remains in the back of my mind. Zelda BotW has a hump, a hump that some people will feel very aggrieved to surmount. Do not be surprised when you hear of someone bouncing off this game - it really is torture for people with precious little play time or patience.

Perhaps I should say something about the shrine dungeons or the 4 beast dungeons. They exist. There, I said it.

96 out of 120

Path of Exile

I tried this many years ago on my Mac using some sort of Windows executable wrapper. It did not work. I tried again when I got my new PC, I was underwhelmed. I tried yet again two weeks ago - holy shit this is the best action RPG I’ve ever played. The fact that it’s also free is sort of a weird blessing. You can only buy cosmetics and extra slots, so it even has a total lack of pay-to-win going for it. At least they get to keep expanding and updating it, which is probably why my recent play through was so smooth.

Diablo 2 is one of my all time favourites. It’s a concise loop of murder, loot, sell. But not without flaws. It has cruft, tedium, and imbalance in spades.

Path of Exile shuffles the formula and bets the whole thing on loot. Skills are loot. Money is loot (you pay with scrolls and item modifying tools, no gold). Equipment is loot. Yet playing it like Diablo is quite a silly thing to do - you get almost nothing from items you try to sell to vendors, so you no longer make trips back and forth with junk items. Leveling up is spent on a massive passive skill tree shared by all the classes, so the game sees no need to forestall leveling because it’s not the gatekeeper of mechanics. The items are. This occurs by way of gems that you socket into items, a bit like Diablo 2 and 3, but instead of boring damage bonuses you get entirely new mechanics. If you play with several characters in the same league they can share these items as well (providing they are strong enough to wield them). A mere ten levels into the game I had a full on rave of undead surrounding my witch character like she was the hottest new DJ at a halloween party.

I refrained from playing on hardcore because the game is online only and my internet sucks, but the game does boast a challenge that is mandatory hardcore. A multi-part dungeon that rewards you with a new section for your skill tree. Complete it without dying and you get to specialise. This is further complicated by deadly treasure rooms you must salvage keys from in order to unlock the many chests at the end. This was quite an exciting challenge with real stakes and real swearing when I let my greed get the better of me.

So what of its flaws? It takes a few goes to shake off the Diablo conditioning, so it’s not until you hit act 2 and try again from scratch that you figure out a strategy for building a character. The passive skill tree has a handy search feature and after I typed “minion” into it I was determined to carve a path through the best parts. If you don’t plan your route, you miss out on your mana rocketing back to full, your health restoring, or in my case: zombie disco. It’s online only and if you insist on playing over the weekend it can be a very choppy experience. The chat is a sewage pipe, a stream of edgelord douchebaggery. Go into the options and turn it off. I’ve yet to meet anyone that wants to form a party and every time I look at it I’m certain I don’t want to. There’s little to say of the story, it’s not bad though. I appreciate that it doesn’t try to get in the way like Diablo 3′s did. Perhaps if they had taken their loot thesis a step further they could have buried it in the game’s items. Then all this hoarding would have expanded into something like an archaeology dig. A missed opportunity.

O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O out of Shiny Armour

Shadow of Mordor

It’s quite cool and exciting to begin with. We’re in Mordor with lots of grim orcs and cool cutscenes, and... is that a bush? Oh okay, it just popped into existence. Nevermind. Well at least sneaking around is fun... my finger hurts a lot though because they want me to hold down the trigger button for ages. Yeah, ganking orcs is cool, it’s real fun shooting them in the head... oh, I have to do these crappy sword fights where I only press two buttons throughout the whole thing.

This game is like someone who seems fascinating and pretty from afar, but soon as you talk to them at length you begin to realise that they’re quite boring. They just say the same thing over and over. It’s a sausage party that gets slowly more off putting as I play. The developers don’t even seem to know that women exist outside of being trophies or reasons to be angry about stuff. The main draw in this game is apparently the battles with the orc leaders, which I found to be the most boring part of the game. I hated the sword combat and it kept dragging me back to it. After doing every arrow and dagger challenge I could find on the map I left the game and never played it again.

Gollum out of Mordor

Dark Souls

in my game Ending I structured the second level so that the player would step forward and get a slap to the face in the shape of an unfair death. This was my opening salvo, death is your education. So after persisting with Dark Souls I’m somewhat nonplussed. I get it. By repeatedly killing the player they form a mental map of the area. By repeatedly killing the player they encourage experimentation.

Except that this doesn’t always work. There has to be some investment on the behalf of the player or this magic completely fails. If the player feels like they can walk away, they will. And they do. It’s why I believe Dark Souls is such a hit with game reviewers, they are beholden to persist, and in doing so the game makes a believer of them.

I on the other hand couldn’t care less. A tedious march through the same janky fights to get to the same boss I still don’t understand is nothing more than that. I tried a variety of combat techniques, from trying to interrupt attacks, to blocking, to evading, all of it very unsatisfying. What little progress I made illuminated the premise, to internalise the map and hone my skills, but I was not impressed. I enjoyed not one second of it, I only endured. I experimented and I explored, but never was I delighted.

The very worst thing that Dark Souls has given us is complacency towards killing the player. I have heard designers remark that it didn’t matter that the player died in that spot in their game because Dark Souls kills the player all the time. It makes me want to shake them. Dark Souls does not kill you all the time, it kills you for a specific reason. See, I get it, I get Dark Souls, I just don’t enjoy the combat.

Soul out of Estus

Divinity Original Sin 2

I had the worst time with Divinity Original Sin. My two characters insisted on bickering and ruining every conversation - no matter how many times I reloaded a scene they would find a way to trash it. I eventually found myself locked out of every quest in the game and unable to fight my way past monsters higher than my level. I was playing the game to forget about a failed relationship where my ex would find excuses to start arguments. It was about as bad an experience playing a game I could ever hope for.

To say the sequel is an improvement is true. To a point. Somehow I’ve done it again and gotten trapped in an area with no quests to advance and monsters too powerful to fight past. I’ve muddled my way past some really irritating quests with obtuse requirements that I’m told can be solved in many ways. Except that when you fail to chase a particular lead it’s really frustrating to have to try a dozen different tactics to shake out a solution. It feels like I’ve picked up my PC and I’m rattling it over my head until the game agrees to let me move on. People keep telling me I can solve situations in dozens of ways, but all of them seem very specific and very intent on being a dick about it.

The combat is as amazing as it is chaotic. Environmental effects are at the fore, making it feel very D&D-like as you slow people down with oil and then ignite the oil and so on. The story I felt was okay, but the tone is all over the place, making it impossible to give a shit. Some nice touches with elves gaining visions from eating flesh and anyone can choose perks for talking to animals - but I found it more infuriating than cute after searching an entire island to solve a riddle, only to have a rat explain to me that I had to talk to some NPC again in order to shake, shake, shake out the solution. For every ounce of fun I got two ounces of frustration and misery.

1 out of 2

Dungeon World

Out of all the table top roleplaying games I’ve tried, this one was the most robust for casual play. Especially seeing as roleplayers are the most unreliable people on the planet. The resolution system it employs forces a plot twist every time you use it, so it’s impossible to plan anything. It’s not for everyone, you end up with a very gonzo story without the fiddly depth that other roleplaying games manage. On the other hand it’s a dream to be the Games Master and watch a story unfold instead of meticulously planning it and seeing a conclusion land that tears apart your ideas instead of adding to them. I wrote a full guide of how I run this game over here. The campaign is effectively a sandbox, I let people explore and fill in the map as we go - which is why I mention it. I’d like a computer game that approached it this way, not like Dwarf Fortress where a randomly generated overworld is dumped on you. Instead I’d like a piecemeal discovery of the world, one that reacts to the tensions you’ve created. Perhaps I’ll have to do it myself.

Story out of Players

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gothify1 · 5 years

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We've tried our fair share of lotions and creams that have given us high hopes and promises only to be left dull and discouraged—especially regarding the state of our skin. Annoying . Finding an exceptional remedy for pesky dry skin shouldn't be difficult. After all, enter any drugstore or beauty retailer and you'll eagerly be met with—quite seriously—hundreds of tempting options. But which ones actually work? As beauty editors who have practically blockaded ourselves at our desks with piles upon piles of beauty product here at WWW HQ, we're not surprised that many of our fellow editors and colleagues pay visits whenever they're in need of some kind of beauty-related antidote. And while we regularly lend taps of eye cream , glitter, and even CBD-spiked honey for the occasional sore throat (yes, really), nothing has higher demand than skin-quenching lotions, oils , and creams. (Fashion and scaly crocodile skin do not a stylish outfit make.) 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Sparkling rose gold is speckled throughout a moisturizing blend of supercritical chia seed oil (the brand's hero ingredient!), gotu kola, arnica oil, and camellia seed oil. Featuring gorgeous Moroccan Rose, this lightweight and all-natural illuminating serum imparts a believable radiance alongside unparalleled hydration. This skin-saving hand, body, and face lotion is the luscious passion project of world famous hand and parts model Adele Uddo. Rich in nutrition, it's spiked with antioxidants and other hydrating power players like hyaluronic acid, MSM, coffee berry, and raspberry leaf to immediately quench the skin for an enduring, velvety-soft finish. Described as "yummy vanilla banana custard," this delicious body lotion from Lush is one of our all-time favorites. Yes, it smells amazing (like dessert but in a chic way), but it also gives our skin flawless hydration, making it one of the best moisturizers for dry skin money can buy. If you're not a fan of frills and fragrance but still want an A+ formula with only the best and most nourishing of ingredients, look no further. Osea's signature lotion is enriched with flake- and scale-banishing ingredients like rosehip, kukui, and avocado oils, alongside shea butter and organic seaweed. This gel-lotion hybrid is a game-changer for angry, irritated summer skin. Impeccably soothing, it's fortified with top-quality ingredients from Down Under to smooth away inevitable summer skin woes. Plus, it absorbs lightning fast. This glow-inducing, multitasking formula from Noto Botanics is one of our forever favorite dry skin remedies. You can use it on your body, face, or hands, and unlike so many formulas whose softness washes away after the first rinse, the moisture this formula grants lasts and lasts and lasts. We dare you to find a better-smelling body cream than this under-the-radar gem from Pistaché. Pistachio oil and blue-green algae come together to create a moisturizing, melt-into-your skin experience. A riff off the brand's cult-favorite cream, this formula is a tad richer, but with all the same Swiss skin perks the brand is known and loved for. Trust us, your skin will want to drink this up all summer long! Celebrity hair colorist Lorri Goddard first introduced me to this romantically rose-scented body cream, and my (previously) perpetually parched skin has been thankful ever since. It's indulgent, beautifully scented, and one of the best moisturizers for dry skin currently in my product repertoire. Organic and expertly formulated to be the most luxurious of ways to elevate your current shower routine, this balm to oil elixir effortlessly melts into skin for lasting nourishment. Plus, it smells amazing. Technically, this blue-tansy-dusted balm is meant for the face, but we love using it as a multi-purpose antidote wherever we're feeling cracked and scaly. It's saved our cuticles, elbows, and knuckles on more occasions than we can count, and the packaging is impeccably chic to boot. This slightly tinted body oil absorbs insanely fast and is a go-to summer favorite of my fellow beauty editor Amanda Montell (who always looks glowy and radiant). According to her very discerning testimony, it leaves skin insanely hydrated and smooth—as if you've just executed a super-close shave—for a full 24 hours. If you're looking to drench your skin in moisture, this lovely body oil from Tata Harper 100% has your back this season. It's chock-full of green juice–like nutrition (think essential vitamins, minerals, and other firming perks) and never leaves skin feeling overly greasy or slick. Plus, the vibrant citrus scent is a home run for summer. Fun fact: Amanda and I are actually roommates and we fight over this luxe body oil. It features high-performance botanical ingredients inspired by Indian ritual and glosses the skin with precious MVP hydrators like sunflower, jasmine, and alma oils. Unsurprisingly, it smells amazing as well. One-part healing serum, one-part moisture-sealing oil, this firming body oil's impressive roster of summer-skin savers has us addicted. Organic additions like rosehip oil, vitamins C and E, and caffeine keep our skin hydrated, yes, but also taught, tight and silky smooth. Next up, this one ingredient is the fashion industry's best-kept hair secret.

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news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog · 6 years

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The 'Potion Seller' guy is still making videos, and it's glorious

There are few millennials who can utter the words "Potion Seller" without bursting into giggles.

"Potion Seller" is a 3 minute, 8 second video depicting an unnamed knight's determined quest to obtain the eponymous Potion Seller's strongest potion. Published in 2011, the short depicts the knight, played by Justin Kuritzkes, continually getting rebuffed by the Potion Seller, also played by Kuritzkes. He pulls off playing drastically different characters with the help of a distorting Photo Booth filter.

SEE ALSO: This drag queen's Voldemort impersonation is going viral and it's amazing

Good news: The guy behind the viral video is still making similarly wacky content with the help of the Photo Booth filter.

In the original, when he leans back, he is the valiant knight, going into battle and desperate for the strongest potions. When he leans forward, he's the parsimonious Potion Seller, who is thoroughly convinced his strongest potions — strong enough to kill a dragon — are too strong for the weak traveler.

"I discovered that by accident, that if I shifted my face, it would create a different character," Kuritzkes said over video chat. (Unfortunately, the interview did not feature any filters.) "I liked it because I'm not really the kinda guy who just does voices or something, in my normal life. But when I could see my mouth being morphed, it made my doing a voice a lot easier because it felt like I wasn't doing it."

youtube

Kuritzkes was surprised when the video went viral "a year or two" after he originally posted it. As a senior in college working on his thesis, he'd make similar videos late at night when he "couldn't work anymore."

"I was really just making them for my friends and posting them on friends' Facebook pages," he said.

The video, he notes, is not a reference to a specific Elder Scrolls game, but the result of a sleep-deprived thesis-driven need for comic relief. Kuritzkes had just started recording when his roommate walked in on him saying "Hello, Potion Seller."

"I wasn't gonna stop the tape because I was committed to it," he laughed. "But I couldn't hold it together because my roommate was watching me do this, and he was 10 feet away so he couldn't see what the image actually looked like. So to him, I'm just rocking back and forth like a crazy person in front of my desk."

On the verge of tears from holding back laughter, the knight and the Potion Seller duke it out: The knight insists that he needs his strongest potion for battle, and the Potion Seller insists that his strongest potions are "only for the strongest beings."

Kuritzkes' "Potion Seller" quietly made its rounds through his friends, lifting their spirits while they trudged through their last year of school. Two years after he graduated, somebody posted the forgotten video on Reddit, and it blew up.

In the past seven years, "Potion Seller" has garnered more the four million views, a subreddit, fan art, and a slew of remixes. Though Vine came and went, snippets of "Potion Seller" are still featured in compilations. The video is forever cemented into the foundation of internet inside jokes.

Fantasy Art: Potion Seller by Carlos Ruiz https://t.co/ssEirZzx85 pic.twitter.com/Vw6zoykL93

— The Site: Art Online (@fantasysite) September 11, 2018

I first watched "Potion Seller" when one of my many older, and therefore cooler, cousins showed it to me. During late college nights, when my friends and I were too drunk to go to sleep and too tired to continue the night, we'd pile onto dingy common room couches and laugh to "Potion Seller" together. On a lazy Sunday afternoon recently, I realized that "Potion Seller" is only one of many videos that Kuritzkes has on his channel, and that he's still posting absurd sketches using Photo Booth.

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Kuritzkes is a playwright, novelist and R&B artist, but he finds making the videos "very comforting."

"I like the idea of having this thing online ... that ruins any chance I have of having a coherent, respectable narrative as an artist," he explained.

Calling his actual published work "very serious," Kuritzkes likes that his portfolio of one-man sketches prevents him from ever becoming too pretentious. He admits that he's already been recognized for "Potion Seller" by both professional actors he's worked with and teenage fans who stumbled across his video.

"It really keeps me in check, if I'm ever trying to take myself seriously in any way," he said. "Or if I'm ever buying into my own bullshit about the serious work I'm doing."

His reputation as the guy behind the bizarre Photo Booth videos isn't something he shies away from; the cover of his debut album is a pixelated black and white screenshot from another video.

Although he's never incorporated the characters from his videos in his plays or novel, Kuritzkes says his writing process is similar to recording a Photo Booth sketch: He comes up with a character and makes them start talking.

"That person talks for as long as I can stand to hear them talk, until I want somebody to interrupt them," Kuritzkes said. "And for me, the videos are like these improvised monologues."

Unfortunately, that means "Potion Seller" probably won't be adapted into an epic trilogy. But a trove of Kuritzkes' hilarious rants are still on his channel.

WATCH: How one artist creates sculptures that are only visible from one angle

#_uuid:a8a5bec5-bde4-304a-a7a0-68e26ba1975f #_author:Morgan Sung #_category:yct:001000002 #_lmsid:a0Vd000000DTrEpEAL #_revsp:news.mashable

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delightfulcollectiontacothi-blog · 7 years

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Why You Need to Acquire A GoPro Hero Camera

Why You Should really Invest in A GoPro Hero Digital camera

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So I ultimately received Angel! I have been wanting Angel for a whilst, at any time due to the fact I understood that his next electrical power assault heals teammates! How handy for team missions! Anyway, let us leap right into this evaluate. Angel has some awesome detailing like the halo image on his upper body and the wing feathers. It truly is easy and specifically echoes the comics, but there is not a total large amount of detail. I give Angel's detailing a 5/ten! From now on in my reviews I am only heading to point out exploration if it surprises me somehow, and Angel surely shocked me with his wing-aided double soar! Clash of Clans mobile seems to healthy Angel very well and I believe it seems like Antony Del Rio but I have not been ready to obtain confirmation of this. I give Angel's voicing a eight.5/10! Angel fights with a series of sweeping aerial punches and is a very little all in excess of the area, but I take pleasure in the different battling design and style.

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