#tales from the void
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it is with a heavy (cryptid) heart that i inform you all that @/hellsite-hall-of-fame and i have decided to go our separate ways
details under the break
we are no strangers to love
you know the rules and so do i
a full commitment is what i am thinking of
you would not get this from any other guy
i just wanna tell you how i am feeling
gotta make you understand
never gonna give you up
never gonna let you down
never gonna run around and desert you
never gonna make you cry
never gonna say goodbye
never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
we have known each other for so long
your heart has been aching, but you are too shy to say it
inside, we both know what has been going on
we know the game and we are gonna play it
and if you ask me how i am feeling
do not tell me you are too blind to see
never gonna give you up
never gonna let you down
never gonna run around and desert you
never gonna make you cry
never gonna say goodbye
never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
never gonna give you up
never gonna let you down
never gonna run around and desert you
never gonna make you cry
never gonna say goodbye
never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
we have known each other for so long
your heart has been aching, but you are too shy to say it
inside, we both know what has been going on
we know the game and we are gonna play it
i just wanna tell you how i am feeling
gotta make you understand
never gonna give you up
never gonna let you down
never gonna run around and desert you
never gonna make you cry
never gonna say goodbye
never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
never gonna give you up
never gonna let you down
never gonna run around and desert you
never gonna make you cry
never gonna say goodbye
never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
never gonna give you up
never gonna let you down
never gonna run around and desert you
never gonna make you cry
never gonna say goodbye
never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
april fools btw hehehehe (please do not hate meeeee)
Madame Curator i love you very very much ♡ ♡ ♡
@hellsite-hall-of-fame
#i am terribly sorry that you had to find out this way#hellsite hall of fame#hellsite hall of ex-girlfriend#madame ex-girlfriend's bullshit#tales from the void
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Unfortunately he’s never gonna give the ring up! He’s gonna have to let you downnnn. He’s gonna run in circles around you~
he deserted me :(
#retreivetheringfromrickastleyorelseillsendthevoidhoundsafterhimyesthemuseumhasguarddogsandwhataboutit?!?
#retreivetheringfromrickastleyorelseillsendthevoidhoundsafterhimyesthemuseumhasguarddogsandwhataboutit?!?#tales from the void#ask#the hellsite answers#anonymous#hellsite hall of fame curator’s bullshit#hellsite hall of fame curators bullshit
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Hello, it's me again!
For you - Time and Sky fluff :D
Cause I saw that this week just wasn't it, so I'm here to cheer you up! :D
"Hey! How you feeling?" The skyloftian smiled as he entered the dark room, gently clicking the door closed behind him.
Time didn't speak, but he did give a small wave as the footsteps entered.
"I brought you soup, wild said he got the recipe from Malon last time we were there." The skyloftian placed the bowl gently on the side table as Time turned his head to face him.
"I need to check you over, I know Hyrule did earlier but..." He hovered, scratching his arm. Before stepping over to the bed. Eyes glancing over to the armour in the corner.
It was in his nature, they did call him the Mother hen...
"I'm alright Sky." His voice was quiet as he tried to reassure the Skyloftian. Turning his head back to look at the ceiling. The scent of the soup wafted through the room. He couldn't identify it, but if it was one of Malon's recipes. Then it would be good.
The skyloftian sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Fiddling with his hands.
"You didn't have to jump in front of me like that. I... I never got to thank you." He didn't look at him while he spoke, his thumbs tracing along the fabric on the bed. As his eyes remained fixed on the armour.
He tilted his head down looking at the skyloftian as he remained sat. The light of the moon gently reflected off the man's sailcloth. "You dont need to thank me, any one of us would have done it." this caused Sky to shift in his position.
"But..."
"Sky. You're one of us as much as the rest of them." He grimaced as he tried to sit up. Pain shooting through his bandaged leg. "Help me up?"
"Oh." The skyloftian turned, shuffling to his knees as he offered his hands. "Here..."
Sky pulled him up into a sitting position and helped him turn to put his legs over the edge of the bed, being careful to not touch the ingury.
They sat in silence as Time pondered the Skyloftian. He radiated guilt but it hadn't been the chosen's decision for him to jump into the like of fire. It had been his.
Sky sat with his arms around him, his chin resting on his chest as he pulled his legs up to his chest. Wrapping his arms inward too the skyloftian sighed.
Time couldn't see his face from where he was. But knew this look.
"Do you need a hug?" He offered freely, placing a hand on the Skyloftians shoulder gently.
The skyloftian didn't give an answer, but he did turn his head to face him.
It was times like this when Time was reminded just how young the rest of this little hero group was.
"Come on, Come here."
The skyloftian shuffled across, minding the older hero's injuries as he wrapped his arms around Time's waist. The older hero slowly lifting his arm over the skyloftians's shoulder. Leaning his head on the Skyloftians head.
"I'm sorry you got hurt."
"I'm not." He replied quickly. Tightening his grip on the Skyloftian as he moved the chosen's sailcloth around his shoulder's more firmly. He grabbed the blanket from his bed and wrapped it around both of their shoulders. "You look tired, why dont you rest, I'll keep watch."
"You... can't keep watch, your." the skyloftian yawned. His head turned to the window, the light of the moon filtering into the room gently. "Hurt."
Time chuckled, the gentle rumbling from his chest made the Skyloftian tighten his grip ever so slightly. "When has that ever stopped me." He smiled, as the Skyloftian tucked himself under his arm even more. The warmth of the blankets surrounding them, "You know how I get."
Sky made a noise of acknowledgement as Time felt his grip loosen. The boy's weight leaned into him a little more. The older hero looked down at the man leaning into him. How long had it been since he'd slept? This was Sky they were talking about.
The gentle sounds of the quiet breaths of the skyloftian's slumber seemed to want to pull him down too. As he rested his head on the Skyloftians. Settling his arm to make it more comfortable. He could feel sleep calling to him as his body relaxed, forcing himself to remain sat up for Sky's sake he leant back into the Skyloftian. Closing his eyes he forced his body to relax.
As he drifted, he could hear the voice of the captain outside the door.
Good, it was time for shift change anyway....
Short and sweet, I hope you like it, and I hope it's made you feel a little better :)
MAJOR STOP THIS IS SO CUTE AND AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
IM CLINGING TO MY PLUSHIE RN AND I WANNA CRYYY ITS SO CUTE AND SWEET AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE HOW SOFT TIME IS AND HOW CLINGY SKY IS AND EVERYONE DESERVES TO BE SWEET BUT AHHHHHHH!!!!!
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!
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touch not the Sith who fears it
Whumptober 2023
Day 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”
Collar | Touch Aversion | "Leave me alone."
Star Wars: The Old Republic
Warnings: Minor Head Trauma
Characters: Qizulth Verryn (Darth Nox, he/him, Twi'lek), Andronikos Revel, Ashara Zavros
“Easy, Sith…” Andronikos’ voice hit his ears long before he could finally open his eyes.
He didn’t remember hitting his head, but the painful throbbing behind his eyes told him otherwise. “What..?”
It had just been the two of them, poking around an old tomb. Now, however, he sensed Ashara somewhere nearby. How long had he been out for her to have reached their location?
Ugh. He didn’t care. His head ached too much to.
“You told me to watch my step. Then promptly stepped on a false floor.” He knew Andronikos; the man probably would have snorted as he said that, had it been anyone else. But this once, he could sense the faintest of worry buried under the man’s rugged demeanor.
“False floor?” Talking made the pounding in his head worse. He vaguely recalled…oh, what was it? Some sort of pressure plates, he’d stepped on one, then…the floor was probably pulled out from under him? He wasn’t positive, but it sounded likely enough.
He heard the swish of Ashara’s robes as she paced. “I had to get you out of the pit myself. You were down there a while—how’s your head?”
She’d used the Force to lift him out, he guessed. “Mph… Feels like there’s a whole damn band in my skull right now.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his palms to the sides of his head, gently massaging his temples.
Fortunately, he thought, he didn’t feel any other injuries. Ankles a bit sore, but he was used to dealing with sprains.
...Unfortunately, he didn’t realize Ashara had stepped close to touch a hand to the welt in his head (to wipe away blood? to check if it would need stitches? He didn’t know. He didn’t care.) until she’d already done it.
Qizulth flinched backward in an instant, fangs bared in a snarl that had her snapping her hand away.
“Don’t touch me.”
She was new to the crew. She didn’t know. He didn’t care.
“...Noted.”
#whumptober2023#no.17#swtor#sith inquisitor#twi'lek#togruta#andronikos revel#ashara zavros#tales from the void#voids ocs#oc: qizutlh verryn#minor head trauma
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Glitched Out has attached to my brain like a leach I stg I’ve thought about it at least once a day since it came out
Anyway have a Napalm design
#please god go watch Glitched Out#scythe audio#glitched out#tales from the void#audio rp#ari does art
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I see your Watcher!Grian, and I raise you: eldritch horror Watcher!Grian
Eyes, blinking in and out of existence on his body and the air around him. Too many wings, with feathers sharp to the touch, in too many colors yet somehow also not enough. A face, shrouded by the wings folding around his head, and a joyous smile revealing teeth that were maybe a little too sharp.
Only when you look away do eyes appear on the wings covering where his own should be. They blink slowly, studying, only to disappear again the moment one looks upon him once more.
Stars, swirling within the depths of those too many eyes; one can almost see familiar constellations within them, but something isn't quite right about them and you can't place why. A voice that echoes from nowhere, yet everywhere, all at once; echoed by far too many in a strange tongue never heard before. The giggling of a giddy child, overlapping with the deep, reverberating laughter of a being that may have once been human.
Even the form he chooses to take instead, human as it may appear, unsettles those to first meet him. Something so inheritently wrong bubbles under the surface of a mirthful grin that was...well, maybe it was a little too sharp.
Too perfect. As if something that had never before seen a human attempted to take the form of one.
Wings, far too pristine, not a feather out of place even through countless mischief. That appear painted, rather than real; too soft, yet also too sharp. Laughter, that those who hear can't help but join in on as something urges them to share in his joy.
And eyes...
Eyes, too studious. Watching, watching far too closely, as if waiting for something. Eyes, that catch the details that should be missed. Eyes, that for a moment - for one brief moment, surely your own were playing tricks on you - show galaxies swirling beyond their gaze.
#grian#hermitcraft#mcyt#watcher grian#idk how to tag stuff for this fandom aaaaa im sorry#eyyyy my first post for this fandom#uhhhhh if anyone sees this#id love to find some cool hermitcraft & 3rd/last life blogs to follow pretty please#tales from the void#eldritch horror hermits
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for anyone wondering, it was a glitch!!! i’m genuinely shocked tumblr fixed something so quickly, so uhhh whoever paid for me to bail out of gay ghost baby jail, i owe you my life.
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rare is this love, keep it covered
It’s particularly cold this Winter Solstice, but the energy remains the same as it does every year; when the sun sets on the shortest day, the festivities begin. Wreaths of lilies-of-the-valley were hung over streetlamps with care, interspersed among the colourful lanterns and strings of lights overhead. Couples and families passed through the central market cozied up to one another to stay warm while they enjoyed the sights. Jovial laughter and music fills the air, while food and drink are passed feverishly between chilly hands.
The buzz in the city was undeniable.
From where he stands on the balcony, Bel casts his gaze toward where the sea meets the sky, the moon’s fractured image—full and bright—rippling with the waves. He sips absentmindedly from the glass of hot cider, steaming silently in the crisp air, then sighs. Behind him, he can hear a pop and a cheer, so turns his head to see Sabine has opened a bottle of champagne; the corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile.
“There you are.”
He turns to move his body around so his back is leaning against the railing, smile widening as Bastian approaches.
“I didn’t even hear you coming!” Bel tells him, setting the cup down on the small table beside him. His hands, cold even in their gloves, reach for Bastian automatically, arms wending their way around his hardier waist.
“The lack of armour certainly helps,” Bastian chuckles. His own hands, bare as they are, are warm as they take Bel’s face between them, pressing their lips together, again, and again, and again. Bel’s lips chase his own a little as he pulls away. “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death.”
“Just… thinking,” he says.
“Anything worth sharing?”
Bel looks contemplative for a moment before giving a slight shake of his head, turning back to look out over the ocean. Nothing to share—not right now, at least. It’s warmer now that Bastian is beside him, arm still wrapped solidly around his waist, and a sense of wholeness fills the space—it feels right, like this is how it was always meant to be.
“I thought you’d be too tired to come out,” he admits, to which Bast hums an agreement.
“I was. Riding on horseback for the majority of the day will take it out of you, but…” He gives Bel’s hip a squeeze and a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Found a second wind.”
Bel turns to take his glass off the table, to privately enjoy the warmth that washes over him. He hides his smile behind a sip of the hot drink, letting it heat his hands.
Bastian takes the brief silence to press forward: asking how the week had been, if Bel missed him while he was away (he had, terribly), and more. They fall into an easy conversation, about everything and nothing, peppered with laughter and the occasional kiss. It’s nice, listening to him talk, Bel thinks, and it would be nice to do it for as long as he could, forever if Bast would let him.
Does he know? He wonders. Does he know that I would give him my life? That it’s already his? All he has to do is ask.
There’s a lull as the conversation runs its course, for the moment, and they’re left with the sound of the party behind them and the festival below.
“I’ve been doing my own thinking.” Bastian’s voice cuts through the jumble of thoughts in his mind, so Bel turns his head up to look at him, curious. It’s subtle, but he’s known Bastian long enough to sense trepidation. He can feel the slightest tremor, hear the barest waver; it’s all making him anxious.
“I—” he starts, turning the words over in his head and sucking in a breath. “This is harder than I thought it would be.” Bast laughs nervously and Bel turns to face him fully, heart in his throat. “There isn’t a single part of me that doesn’t belong to you, Bel. I hope you know that.” A breeze rolls off the water, blowing loose a lock of auburn hair. Bast tucks it behind his ear again, his hand coming to rest on Bel’s jaw. “Wholly, irrevocably, I am yours for as long as you’ll have me—if you’ll have me.”
Bastian clears his throat.
“What I’m trying—and failing—to say is: I love you, Bel.”
It feels like all the air has been forced out of his lungs. There are hundreds of things Bel wants to say, words that all come scrambling forward like a great surge of water—‘um’s and ‘uh’s and ‘well’s, all fighting to be the first said over the only thing that really matters. How readily should he answer? How much should he say? Would it be seen as too eager? Too indifferent? Too composed? Too scattered?
His grip tightens on the sleeves of Bast’s jacket, near his elbows, and it all comes tumbling out of him in a single word, whispered raw:
“Bastian…?”
He’s smiling—the one that makes the corners of his eyes crease—and Bel knows he means it. Abruptly, he reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws a single red camellia. He thumbs the still pristine bloom, remembering how he’d spent the night before with a glass of wine, poring over old university texts figuring out how best to preserve it. Bel can’t bear to look at him as he affixes it to Bastian’s lapel, his entire face hot and flushed. He rests one hand against the other’s chest, finding his heart beating as quickly as his own, and when he finally dares to lift his gaze, Bastian is staring intently, anxiously at him.
“I do,” Bel tells him. “I love you. I think I always have.”
Giddy laughter spills out of both of them and Bastian is falling over him like snow, scattering kisses over his face and lips in quick succession. Bel can’t keep himself from smiling.
“I know,” Bast says softly, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I love you.”
“You know we’ll never hear the end of this?”
Bastian hums, pressing his lips to Bel’s forehead. “That’s never stopped us before.”
#tales from the void#ouUUGGhhhh#im not well actually. im the opposite of well.#im bad#sick. diseased even.#i love dying and being killed#the icarus to your certainty
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unsolved mysteries title card but jewish
time frog
the first woman
one giant frog
demons
a magic worm
wheels within wheels
an extremely large and problematic frog
cheese
the void
did you see that frog
nephilim
maritime law
golems
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Fnaf 4 is, quite literally, a nightmare blunt rotation
#what is this franchise anymore#fnaf 4#tales from the pizzaplex#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#fnaf lore#bones screams into the void
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being a biologist by trade and also being autistic really warps my perception of what acceptable/normal behaviour is, and that’s totally fine most of the time because i study biology and i work as a biologist, but sometimes i’ll be walking through the science building carrying a dead bird (another victim of the windows, get bird safe windows please!!) to put it in the mailbox of my professor/friend who’s an ornithologist and people will look at me very strangely.
like… i have to explain myself?? you don’t just see it and understand that it’s a window strike and we’re doing a study on them?
#anyway#i really just use tumblr like a diary#screaming into the void#prof rambles#tales from a conservation biologist#biology#conservation biology#marine biologist#tw animal death
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does this hellsite have an award ceremony?
and more specifically, is there an award for "Cutest Tumblr Couple?"
i would like to formally submit my most beautiful Madame Curator and myself for this award
#i believe we have a strong case#i think we are quite adorable#petition to make the tumblr award ceremony real if it is not already#i volunteer myself and madame curator as tribute to make it real#hellsite hall of fame#hellsite hall of girlfriend#madame girlfriend’s bullshit#tales from the void
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Or after Farola’s “YOU SIT ON A THRONE OF COWARDICE” he can yell back.
“I HAVE DONE EVERYTHING FOR EVERYONE ELSE! I HAVE TRIED TIME AND TIME AGAIN TO MAKE YOUR LIVES BETTER THAN MINE EVER HAS BEEN, BUT I CAN NEVER DO ENOUGH!” His tears fall freely in front of his daughter. “I will never ask you to forgive me, but please…”
The king falls to his knees, his hands gripping the boots on the princess’s feet. “Take your anger out on me,” his voice cracks, “not the guards, not your younger brother, not your mother. Me.”
Can you tell that I love King Warriors👉👈
She stands there, looking down at the weeping man who clings to her feet like a worshipper does to their god. The mess of the man barely resembles her father. Barely resembles the hero she admired and fawned over, barely resembles the man she swore to do right by. No. This is no king, no hero, no father.
This is a coward who failed every title given to him.
He failed Hyrule. He failed Mother. He failed Ruladin. He failed Farola. But worst of all, he failed his first born, Nayati.
CRACK
He hadn’t expected the boot to his nose, the sheering pain and audible crack that follows as hes thrown onto his back. His lips are warm with blood and his vision is blurred as he stared up to the high roofed hallway, he felt lightheaded and dizzy from such a simple attack…his years truly have caught up to him. How pathetic of him.
He could hear gasps, hes not sure from who. Hes not sure if he wants to know.
Warriors— Link…he expected another strike, perhaps another kick or maybe Farola needed to feel his blood on her finger tips. He couldn’t make out her form in the moment as all sorts of light and blurred forms shuffle over him. Some darker greys, armoured guard crouched down to his sides -he assumes, at least- as a range of hazy colours shamble away and being the source of muffled noises of distress.
He felt himself being gently lifted -the movement was more akin to dragging as the king made no move to assist- to a sitting position.
He wanted to lie back down. Let Farola grieve the only way she knew how to, the only way she was taught to. It wasnt her fault, she lost a brother, the one person she ever opened up to….the only person Link could get information from about his daughter….
The only connection they truly had…was gone.
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here's some Mutual Pining bc I am Struggling to write the Yavin fic bc who'da thought an aro-spec trying to write his first ever slow-burn would be Difficult??? but I thought this lil scene was cute despite my troubles with it. it'll get edited in the final version ofc, but this is a sneak peak
Synnda (Zabrak, he/him) is my Barsen'thor, Chakem (Miraluka, he/him) is the medic on my Grand Champion's crew
When Synnda had received his orders, and was ready to head off toward the Revanite encampment once again, he was surprised to find Chakem’s hand on his elbow, gently pulling him to the side.
“Is there something—”
“Be careful.”
And he paused.
He was rarely told that.
Often, it was said by his former Padawan as she worried for her Master. Occasionally the Council as he headed off for a dangerous task that may well get him killed.
But…that was all, really.
And yet, here was that very statement.
Synnda couldn’t see the other man’s eyes—he was Miraluka, after all—and the mask he wore to shroud his lack of them covered what expression his brows may have given away. All he could see was his lips pulled into a thin line, as if he were biting them to keep from saying any more.
But he could feel it. It was genuine concern, painting an image of brows scrunched together behind their veil.
He...didn’t understand why Chakem, of all people, would be the one to start worrying for him. He was just a medic; the Grand Champion’s medic, for that matter.
But he couldn’t say he hated it, either.
“I’m always careful.” What more could he say?
Chakem snorted and turned his face away; something in Synnda’s stomach sunk.
“I think we both know that’s not true, Master Jedi." something in the way he said it... Mocking, but in a playful sort of way; his voice dipping low, practically rumbling. Synnda didn't let himself linger on it. Not from what I’ve heard.”
“Hm.” He tucked his hands behind his back to resist the urge to turn Chakem’s face back toward him. “I am as careful as I can be.”
“That’s better.”
And when the medic smiled—a big smile full of teeth—Synnda had to take a breath and turn his own face away.
He’d never felt it before, but knew what it was. That fluttering in his stomach, the way it almost felt as though his hearts were in his throat, how hard it was not to let his eyes dance over the freckles dotting Chakem’s face, or the way he wanted to know what his lips tasted like.
Another breath. A polite bow. Not another word, and he stepped around the other man to cut toward his speeder.
It wasn’t the Jedi way.
#swtor#jedi consular#bounty hunter#zabrak#miraluka#voids ocs#tales from the void#oc: synnda v'ehsz#oc: chakem vira#synnda x chakem
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clinging to my "mlp tales is a prequel set 30 years before the events of g5" hc like a rabid animal
#mlp#mlp tales#mlp g5#I KNOW that the g5 division started right after the g4 finale but you can pry my timeline theory from my cold dead hands ty very much#shummy screaming into the void
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Normally around the others, Impulse used glamour to look a little less... wither-y. It wasn't that the other Hermits were afraid or freaked out by it, simply that it felt odd to be the only one in the room with three heads, or looking like he'd keel over from wither effect at any moment as the dark corruption showed in his veins.
Now, however, as he worked on his dwarven base, he didn't bother focusing on holding up the glamour.
The whispy skulls that floated above either shoulder watched the area around him, watched the dark corners he hadn't yet lit up where mobs could potentially spawn. His wings and tail rattled, exposed bone shifting into more comfortable positions as he stepped back to admire his work. The skulls also turned their attention to it, focusing on different areas, to give him a much larger image in his mind.
To a sound off to his left, one skull turned to find a zombie had spawned and was ambling his way. Only watching it with the one skull, he drew his bow, aimed, and fired a single arrow; it would have been a clean shot right between its eyes if the arrow hadn't set it on fire.
Then his attention turned back to his build, right head noticing a block he'd missed even as he contemplated how to add a little more lighting to the massive sword that housed his Nether portal.
He never understood how the others functioned without more than one head. He'd have felt blind without them!
Speaking of blind...
His tail-tip twitched as he caught movement from his peripherals of both his left and center heads, though he kept his back turned even as he heard the quiet dragging of wheels over stone.
He heard Scar pause, likely to nock an arrow.
Impulse spread his wings slowly, making it look like a mere stretch...
Then shot straight up into the air as the arrow was released.
Scar made a startled noise, his usual shout of "HAWKEYE" catching in his throat as he yelped when Impulse immediately dived back down straight at him.
The wither landed heavily in front of him, doubled over with laughter at the other man's startled expression: wide eyes, mouth hanging open, hands held up in the air and one still gripping his bow. Even his chair was still in flight mode, taking up more space than usual, as he'd obviously planned to shoot-and-run.
Then, Scar was laughing, too. He tucked his bow away, snickering and shaking his head.
"How! I was so quiet! And you were lookin' at that portal for soooo long. Almost wanted to see how long I could just sit here!"
Impulse's left skull tilted to the side, and he grinned. So, Scar had been there for longer than he'd noticed, huh? Maybe if he'd shot sooner, he could've actually surprised the wither!
"I've got six eyes, Scar."
Scar's gaze drifted up, eyes locking with the left skull like he'd only just noticed Impulse's glamour wasn't up. Or, more likely, actually remembering that withers could see multiple directions at once. "Aw, man."
#impulsesv#goodtimeswithscar#wither impulse#minific#hermitcraft#hermitcraft fanfic#tales from the void#idk what this is. just wanted to write something quick#and i thought it was kinda cute so gonna post it#i love the idea that imp is a lil hard to sneak up on cause of three heads#so when someone DOES surprise him they /really/ get him
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