#and i thought what if that but rqg oscar

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Carter: As Oscar once said: "everything is about sex, except sex, sex is about power."

Wilde: I never said that!

Carter: Yes, you did!

Barnes: Well that sounds like something you would say.

Wilde: Last time you agreed with Carter that "You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear" was something I would say. Your opinion does not count.

Barnes: Wait, you didn't say that?

Carter: Nah. I did got that one wrong it was Campbell actually.

Zolf: *who was listening from the side room and entered invoked by Campbell's name* No it wasn't. Campbell isn't a hack.

Carter: Ohoho, Oscar, he called you a hack? Are you gonna let him?

Wilde: Not he didn't! Because I never wrote that. I never spoke that. And I resent anyone thinking I did.

Barnes: Okay, so who said it?

Carter: I still think it was Oscar.

Wilde: *doing calming breathing exercises*

Barnes: Don't be like that Oscar, Carter is just being himself. In fact, didn't you once said "be yourself, everyone else is already taken"?

Zolf: *who knows that Wilde never said any of this things* *breaks laughing*

Carter: Yeah, it was right after "never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary".

Wilde: I hate all of you.

Zolf: Why? Wasn't you the one going "there is only one thing in life worse than being talked about" well we are talking about you.

Wilde: I never... wait... no...I actually did say that one.

#i was thinking about how people misatributte quotes to Oscar so much there is a poem about it #and i thought what if that but rqg oscar #and howard would totally be the one spreading missinformation #sorry for the salt on the fancy car quote but i think it is very unlike Oscar Wilde's style and I just don't like it #a lot of great quotes were misatributted to Wilde as well but I chose the most popular wich are also the ones with no known creator #barnes genuinally belives oscar said/wrote all that #carter doesn't he just likes messing with wilde #the last bit is also a reference for me finding the final quote listed in a forun discussion of wilde misquotes #it is not a misquote but a lot of people appear to think it is #also i love this four idiots and my brain is full of what they were doing in the missing 18 months #i specially wonder about Wilde literally the “I'm fine” meme famously wrote Wilde Is Fine in magical fireworks #interacting with Zolf dad instintincs mc sucky #rqg #rusty quill gaming #rqg oscar wilde #howard carter #zolf smith #rqg barnes

[organchordsandlightning]

Rules: List Five Comfort Characters And Tag Five People. This is in no particular order.

Tagged by @dathen !

hell yeah let’s go (i have thought so much about the definition of Comfort Character while drafting this, because I’m like ‘well I love the Malevolent guys. and everyone from TMA. but would I describe them as comfort? hm.’):

In no particular order:

1. Spock (Star Trek) - my boy. my guy. on god i love spock so much. he will keep everything inside his chest, and then one day he’ll die. i have such a soft spot for characters with strong moral codes, and top of all off with Spock’s usual ‘doesn’t particularly feel comfortable anywhere’.... my Spock boy. 

2. Oscar Wilde (RQG, the real guy is probably fine) - I am also such a fan of characters who care about things so much but have a visibly unbothered exterior and have a hard time expressing their sincerity. Wilde.

3. Hercule Poirot (Christie) - I’m as surprised as anyone not to be putting Sherlock Holmes in this place, but I think overall Poirot was with me for longer (granted, for much the same reasons that Holmes is!). A kind little detective who is just here to solve crimes. Not a mean bone in his body (a few bitchy ones though).

4. Benjamin Franklin “Hawkeye” Pierce (M*A*S*H*) - it truly could’ve been either Pierce, Mulcahy, or Radar here, they both hold equally strong parts of my heart, but I had to give it to Hawkeye on the pure basis of ‘guy who know what is up and knows he can’t do anything about it but tries to make it through anyway’.

5. Harrier Du Bois (Disco Elysium)- (OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT) I have a soft spot for characters that are at their Lowest of the Low and it’s All Uphill From Here. I write them, I read them, I love them, and I think whenever I mentally engage with Harry Du Bois, it’s intrinsically a recovery dynamic that I really enjoy writing with.

No Pressure Tagging @shadow0haven @captaincravatthecapricious @genderfluid-druid @bluejayblueskies @fruitviking

#lists that I feel like I can show to a therapist

[voidoftetris]

I posted 6,650 times in 2022

That's 5,698 more posts than 2021!

52 posts created (1%)

6,598 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@everwizard

@random-chaos-thoughts

@mortimermcmirestinks

@annabelle--cane

@a-swarm-of-crabs

I tagged 3,005 of my posts in 2022

#the magnus archives - 475 posts

#rqg - 341 posts

#the mechanisms - 192 posts

#note - 190 posts

#wolf 359 - 130 posts

#malevolent - 112 posts

#tma - 110 posts

#goncharov - 97 posts

#ofmd - 91 posts

#unreality - 89 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#it’s important to remember pretty much everything we believe and think is drawn from the people around us. wtnv voice we’re all echoes

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

every day i think about oscar wilde. dorian gray. oscar wilde’s trial. lady windermere’s fan. the themes of classism. rqg wilde. how would he feel about modern interpretations of him? of his works? dorian gray. themes of a double life. constant deception. being driven to the brink by your own actions. lady windermere’s fan. sacrifice for another. hating yourself for doing it. the layers of lies and deception. rqg wilde. every single thing i have seen and read and heard related to him is, on some level, about deception. about masks. about blending in and pretending that nothing’s wrong. poetry about english nationalism. his mother was an irish nationalist. he didn’t have an irish accent because he was blending into society. nearly all of his work is about calling out the society he was blending into. masks and layers and constant deception. he’s most famous for being gay. he had a wife whom he wrote poems to and sent letters to a girl he called his childhood sweetheart. he’s dead and we can never be certain what was true. there are so many rumours that came about after he was prosecuted. his work was socially buried after his disgrace. he’s one of the most famous writers in the world. he was a living contradiction, masks covering masks covering masks, and we will never know if there was a person underneath it all. dorian gray. dying alone, filled with rage at what you’ve become. rqg wilde. the ballad of reading gaol. who was he? who could he have been?

76 notes - Posted January 22, 2022

#4

Carter my beloved what are you doing here

84 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

#3

me: i’ve heard that de:pp has a trans character in it but i’m not confident that it’s not just my friends finding nothing to contradict a headcanon so-

opening scene: so barney is listening to cavetown

me, instantly: Oh Ok This Is Intentional

109 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#2

the magnus archives 2: electric spookaloo

290 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

lucy: i need not tell you this is a secret

me, one of presumably thousands of people being emailed this: absolutely not queen. this dies with me, and i love you

841 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[evanescentjasmine]

hey this is kinda weird and out of the blue so sorry + feel free to ignore but i was in the rqg fandom and i remember your posts on the cairo arc and i wanted to ask if you've watched moon knight and if so what are your thoughts on its depiction of egypt? on one hand the mc isnt egyptian (though his love interest is + is played by one) and the characters spend a lot of time in pyramids and tombs, otoh the show was produced and edited by egyptians and thus seems like it would be more authentic?

Nope, sorry. Haven't seen it, have no thoughts on it. All I know is that Egyptian twitter is having a lot of fun with the fact they've used mahraganat music and people seem excited about it (and Oscar Isaac) in general, but I haven't the foggiest what's going on in that show otherwise.

[makesometime]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Characters: Zolf Smith, Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Art Restoration, (yes I’m making that a tag), Aromantic Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming), Asexual Zolf Smith, Internalized Arophobia, Developing Relationship, Coming Out, AroAceing the Line 2021, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Series: Part 4 of AroAceing the Line 2021 Summary:

What he isn’t expecting is a handsome blond-haired lumberjack-looking dwarf, with sleeves rolled up and scars on his forearms and deep green eyes that sparkle like the sea on a clear day.

He tries not to stare, but he knows he doesn’t manage it.

#aroaceingtheline2021 #zoscar #zolf smith #rqg oscar wilde #yes i wrote an entirely new AU for less than 1500 words of fic #what of it #(please be aware of thoughts of internalised arophobia if that will be difficult for you) #rqg

[kellanswritingblog]

I kept thinking about how Zolf and Wilde started working together again considering their mutual dislike when we see them before the latest episodes.  I imagined that they were both tracking each other down, but for very different reasons.  Wilde needs help, and Zolf wants to find his friends.  

“You’re a hard man to track down.”

“I could say the same about you.��

“Doesn’t look like you were trying that hard.  Still sitting behind your desk and letting things come to you.”

“I heard that you were on your way to me.  Why put in the extra effort if you’d be at my door soon anyway?”

“Smarmy bastard,” Zolf muttered under his breath.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Whatever his words, the smirk on Wilde’s face said loud and clear that he had indeed caught that.  

“I have some questions.”

“And I have a business proposition for you.”

“I don’t care about that!” Zolf cried, slamming his fist down on Wilde’s desk.  “Where are they?  Where are my friends?”

Wilde sighed and took a surprisingly long moment to gather himself.  “Last I heard, they’d gone to Rome.”

“Rome?  Why would they go to Rome?  Rome is a nightmare.”

“I know.  But that was several months ago.  I can only assume…”

Zolf studied Wilde’s expression for a few long moments, trying to decipher the façade or see if this was some elaborate retribution for dumping water on his head half a dozen times.  But there was nothing but a stony seriousness there that even Zolf couldn’t deny.  

Tears welled up in his eyes and his throat shut tight.  “So, they’re dead then.  Gone.”

“I’m afraid that’s what it looks like.”

Zolf stomped off to the far corner of the room so that he could cry in peace for a few minutes. Then, he wiped his face, stood up straight, and marched back to Wilde.  

“Handkerchief?”  Wilde offered.  

Zolf shook his head.  “What business proposition did you mention before?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I need your help.”

Through his tearstained face, Zolf smiled.  “Good to know that some things never change.”

#rqg #rqgaming #rqg spoilers #zolf smith #rqg oscar wilde #is there an appropriate way to tag him #I'm not a patron so I haven't listened to the new episode yet but #I was stuck in a car for 6 hours today and this is what I thought about #that and some ANGST #so prepare yourself for that eventually

[queercore-curriculum]

Love in a Time of Hardship: An Anthology of Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Fanfiction

Binding, cover design, and layout by me. Bound with hand-dyed variegated linen thread using a variation on a long stitch binding I designed myself. Here’s what’s inside:

At Your Convenience by @holoxam​​

A really lovely, intimate post-campaign fic in which Zolf and Wilde are in a QPR and don’t need to talk about it, thank you very much. I love this fic, it’s such a wonderful little slice of life and captures their dynamic so perfectly.

Would You Cast Me to the Wayside by lily_rainn

An incredibly thoughtful and humane depiction of Zolf and Wilde negotiating the beginning of their relationship. Neither of them have the vocabulary to fully understand what’s happening, but they’re trying so hard because they care so much about each other, and it’s just great.

The most dangerous thing is to love by @makesometime 

An ancient Greek gods AU that’s just unbelievably good. makesometime seamlessly weaves Greek mythology into the RQG world all while not just maintaining perfect characterization, but actually elevating these characters to match the beautiful world she created. 

Wake up by @makesometime​​

Zolf waiting for Wilde to wake up post-ep.177. This was the first RQG fic I ever read, and it’s very, very special to me. Zolf is so painfully tender and anxious, and it makes my heart ache every time.

Inevitable by Miri1984 / @icescrabblerjerky 

“Post 177 Zolf and Wilde have sex and feelings,” really the most succinct way of putting it. Such an intense distillation of all my feelings about Zoscar!

What We Worship by Miri1984 / @icescrabblerjerky​​

AU where Wilde dies in the airship crash and doesn’t get better. Really wonderful worldbuilding for the RQG-universe afterlife, and so beautifully written and poignant.  

The Right Questions by @newsbypostcard

Just two complicated and emotionally-repressed dudes negotiating their relationship after one of them rescues the other from death. Fuck, the characterization in this fic is so good. A prime example of why fic is so often better than canon. 

Small Intimacies by @newsbypostcard​​

Zolf and Wilde go to bed and have a conversation. That’s it, that’s the fic, and it’s the single greatest “mortifying ordeal of being known” fic I have ever read. It's the kind of story I dream about finding, one that teaches me more about characters I love and illustrates exactly why they mean so much to me. A perfect fic, easily one of my favorite fics of all time.

Until We Meet Again by @queercore-curriculum​

Zolf and Wilde cross paths after Zolf leaves Prague and while Wilde is still on the run from La Gourmand. Eh, I feel weird reccing my own fic, but I’m pretty proud of this one, actually.

Warm and Dry by @queercore-curriculum​

Caf​é AU where baker!Zolf teaches writer!Wilde how to bake bread. I had a lot of fun writing this, and if I can get my shit together I’ll finish writing the extended version, Coriander.

find your feet by @starstrung​

Zolf and Wilde hide their relationship from Earhart aboard the Vengeance. I. LOVE. THIS. FIC. starstrung writes one of my all-time favorite Wildes, and this is an absolute delight to read. Zolf and Wilde often live in dark, angsty places, but this is just so joyful and fun and hot while still staying so true to character. I promise this fic will make your day brighter.

love is a sacrament by @starstrung​

An 18-month time gap fic that’s just fucking perfect. Feat. an extra guarded Wilde (again, one of my all-time favorites) and an extra tender Zolf, and it’s so, so, so wonderful. 

Woven Up by tuesdaycoming

A deep dive into Zolf’s backstory and his layers upon layers of grief. This fic just blew me away, brilliant worldbuilding and an absolute masterclass in showing-not-telling. 

Absolutely Unlike Harrison Campbell by ZaliaChimera / @zalia​

Zolf is bored and propositions Wilde to pass the time. This fic is very hot, but I also found it incredibly moving. ZaliaChimera takes a really unflinching look at these two very emotionally-repressed dudes that don’t particularly like one another and shows a different kind of intimacy than we often see in fic, one that’s a little rough around the edges and brutally honest. 

Look, I may need to make a second Zoscar anthology, and another anthology of RQG mixed-bag ships--the RQG fandom is just so fucking talented. If you have any recs of your own, please send them my way!

More pics below the cut!

My Rusty Quill ficbinding shelf :D

#ficbinding #fanbinding #rusty quill gaming #rqg #Zoscar #zolf smith #rqg Oscar Wilde #Zoscar fic rec #rqg fic rec #fic recs #fan crafts #bookbinding #book arts #long stitch binding #graphic design #linocut #typography #HoloXam #lily_rainn #makesometime #miri1984 #newsbypostcard #queercore_curriculum #starstrung #tuesdaycoming #ZaliaChimera

[lenaellsi]

Just finished rqg finally in a big binge over the last few days after taking a pause around ep 196? 197? (not sure). NO thanks I hate it.

Idk if you listened to both q&a's?? So I'll recap this bit in some detail: at one point Alex says that people think the biggest turning point for wilde's character was losing his magic, but actually, it didn't fundamentally change his nature much; dying is the moment he would say did that.

Listened to that last night and today I'm thinking Hmm. Do you know Why everyone thinks/thought that? Because it makes narrative sense. It's stripping the ability of a man who is layers and layers of performance down to a forced reveal of more of his true self, certainly a Lot more than he is comfortable with or prepared for. MAGIC IS METAPHOR IT MEANS SOMETHING FOR A CHARACTER TO BE AN ILLUSIONIST..........!!

I guess that's the problem with making a character too much of a self insert (as Alex talks about his personal interrogations of burnout and responsibility coming to define the core of wilde as a character) - you lose the ability to step outside of it and consider their role as a Character In A Story.

Anyways. Sending this character meta thought to you because wilde. The rest of my stewing and gradually putting my disappointment into words over the next couple days I'll keep to my own blog lol

(Lowkey it’s because at every opportunity Alex is attempting to downplay the effects of losing magic on both the world and his NPCs because he knows that if you examine the actual consequences of that too deeply the ending becomes horrific)

OBVIOUSLY dying had a profound effect on Wilde, I love that and honestly would’ve liked to see more of it in podcast (though yes, I know, he’s not a PC, he doesn’t need that kind of focus, I understand, but consider: I love him) but that doesn’t negate what losing his magic did to him as a person. We see the shift from the trickster illusionist to the cold handler in season 4, and while the end result—Wilde keeping his thoughts and feelings from those around him—is the same, the methods are very different. It’s like…in seasons 1-3 he was surrounded by walls of mirrors, constantly reflecting different versions of himself so no one could tell which was real. And when the mirrors shattered in Damascus, he instead surrounded himself with solid stone. That’s still a significant change, even if 177 (and, I’d argue, his relationship with Zolf generally) was what actually brought those walls down.

I love that my brand is “cares too much about are cue gee Oscar Wilde.” That makes me very happy.

#rqg critical #rqg spoilers

[adhduck]

Oh Well, I Guess We’re Gonna Pretend

AO3

(Major spoilers for rqg 207)

Wilde is at a party with all his loved ones, and everything in his life is finally falling into place.

He’s also unconscious on the floor of the world’s last safehouse, and something is coming for him.

--

“Come on, Oscar, dance with us.”

Wilde blinks, realizes Hamid is standing in front of him with his hand outstretched; probably a symbolic gesture, considering he’d be hard-pressed to pull someone double his height.

Smiling, Wilde sets his half-empty champagne flute on the table. “Of course. Care to join, Zolf?”

Zolf, who’s slouching in the next seat with his long, worn coat tucked around him in a fabulous display of I am not a party person, scoffs fondly. “Absolutely not. ‘Sides, it’s yer party, Wilde, not mine.”

“It’s our party,” Wilde says with mock offense, putting a hand on his chest. “Didn’t you hear my toast?”

“Half of it, maybe.”

Wilde rolls his eyes, but relents and squeezes Zolf’s shoulder; presses down a smile when Zolf catches his hand for a second and pats it. “I’ll get you to have fun one day, Zolf, mark my words.” He’s rewarded with a gruff little mumble, and then Hamid tugs on his coattail to pull him away.

[Cel is still reeling from the shock of electricity when they see it. It’s large, with a body that could be humanoid if not for the oversized head, how its body seems not to take up space but distort it. If not for the six-foot swords it has instead of arms.

Instinct kicking in, Cel pulls two bombs from their pockets and throws them in rapid succession. Even with their hands trembling a little – they always do, the first few moments of combat – Cel know each one is perfectly weighted and near perfectly aimed.

The creature doesn’t even flinch.

It only takes a moment to process what that means – limited bombs, a 5% chance of hitting at best, almost a third of their own health taken in one hit – before Cel abandons the idea of attacking and reaches instead for Hamid. He’s desperately light, clothes singed and hissing; as Cel pulls him to their chest, he curls instinctively into the touch.

“Hang on, little buddy,” they whisper, trying fiercely to sound sure. “You just keep dreaming for now; I’ll keep you safe.”

They just need to get him through the door.]

There are a few people dancing, but the clear stars are Azu and Kiko—partly due to Azu’s shimmering, lightly glowing pink gown, but mostly because of the dance itself. It’s a bright, lively partner dance Wilde hasn’t seen before, where they pull in and out of each other’s embrace with twirls and dips and lots of laughter. It looks equally exhausting and exhilarating.

Azu notices him mid-spin and brightens immediately, waving him over. “Kiko, you mind if I show Wilde the ropes?”

Kiko grins and gracefully steps back, half-bowing in the process. “Yeah, sure. Long as I can watch.”

So Azu works Wilde through the steps, out of sync with the music at first to get them right, then faster as he gains confidence, and soon they, too, are spinning and laughing. “You,” Wilde says when they pause to catch their breath, adjusting the frill around his neck, “are an excellent dance partner, Azu.”

Azu preens a little. “Oh, thank you! Though I doubt I’ve got much competition, knowing Zolf.”

Chuckling, Wilde glances at the man in question to find him looking back, chin in hand and a fond smile tugging at his mouth—for a moment, at least, before he darts his eyes away with flushing cheeks. Wilde’s heart sings.

[Azu looks sharply between her friends – half of them unconscious, all of them wounded �� and the advancing creature. It seems completely unconcerned by the weapons being pulled as it wades into the fray, dodging a heavy swing from Zolf without even acknowledging him. The swords protruding from its shoulders are almost as long as she is tall.

We can’t win this, Azu realizes. Not while it’s this strong. Pressing a hand to her chest, where her pendant rests safely beneath the armor, she calls to her goddess with words of love and protection and rage. The divine energy builds in her chest, bringing the dull glow of her armor to a bright shine; she throws her hand outwards, flinging the energy with it in all directions, and there—at last, the creature hesitates. It stops as suddenly as if caught in a rockslide, making a noise halfway between a groan of pain and the grinding of stuck gears, and Azu starts to feel hopeful.

Then, it raises its blade.]

Azu catches the movement and smiles conspiratorially. “You know, there are gardens out back that are much quieter than in here.”

”Ah, but you forget,” Wilde replies, putting on his best performer voice. “That just guarantees Sasha will be there, hidden amongst the foliage, waiting to strike.”

Giggling a little, Azu says, “The worst you’ll get from her is some rumors about you and Zolf that are actually true.”

Wilde gasps in (mostly) faux horror. “Don’t even say that.”

Azu laughs for real now, a full and surprised thing, and pushes his shoulder lightly. “Go spend time with him, the party will survive without you a while.” Wilde pouts a little at that, and she tips her head toward Hamid; he’s dancing with complete abandon a few feet away, wings half-unfurled and arms raised high in the air as he spins. Already, a few people have been pulled into his orbit, letting their awkward shuffling loosen into something more inelegant, more natural. “We’ve got it covered. Now go, before you start having deadlines again.”

“To be fair, we have an entire holiday between now and then,” Wilde argues—a bit superfluously, considering he’s already moving away.

Zolf greets Wilde’s approach by sitting up in his chair, eyebrows furrowed and hands raised defensively. “If you try to get me to dance, Wilde, I swear to gods—”

“Already learned my lesson with that one, darling.” Zolf’s ears go a little pink, and Wilde is powerless against the urge to lean into it. “Of course, there are plenty of dances we haven’t tried together—”

“Oh, sod off,” Zolf says, kicking Wilde lightly in the shin; his ears are red, though, so he’s already lost the fight.

[Augusta makes no noise as she’s stabbed through the heart; dead before the pain had a chance to wake her. It’s a mercy, perhaps, but one Cel refuses to let happen to anyone else.

The creature shifts, pulling back its bloodied weapon with Hamid as the clear target, and Cel lunges towards the door, clutching Hamid fiercely against them—and is stopped cold as the creature pierces right through Hamid’s chest.

Like Augusta, Hamid doesn’t cry out when he’s stabbed. He doesn’t move, either; not even when the blade is yanked back out with just force it nearly tugs him from Cel’s arms. Panting, they gather him back against their chest, whatever miniscule safety that might entail, and feel for a pulse. It’s there, thank gods, but only just. He might only have seconds left, and there’s nothing they can do.

At the corner of Hamid’s mouth, Cel can see a smile – the kind he might give during the opening toast of a party, now just the shadow of some wonderful dream – and they do not cry, because what fucking good would that do?]

Just to seal the deal, Wilde drops to his knees in front of Zolf’s chair, bringing them almost eye to eye, and flashes his shiniest grin as he teases, “Don’t worry, I know you love it.” He allows a few seconds for Zolf to huff and pointedly not answer, feeling his chest radiate with warmth, then adds, “Anyway, want to get out of here?”

Zolf’s eyebrows raise, then quickly furrow. “What’re you- that was an awful transition line, ya know. Unless you’re tryna seduce me or somethin’, in which case, why.”

“I’m always trying to seduce you, Zolf, it just never works,” Wilde replies easily. “That’s why I enjoy it so much. And anyway, that’s not what I was asking about. There’s apparently a garden out back, and I thought you might want to take a walk with me.”

“Ain’t you got allergies?”

“It’ll be quiet out there. Poetic.”

Zolf considers for a second, looking Wilde over with a slowly forming smile he’s definitely not conscious of, and for a moment there’s nothing else Wilde wants more than this: kneeling in front of the man he loves, basking in his quiet attention, knowing there’s exciting work ahead and time enough to rest before it comes.

[Zolf spins around, ready to level another attack – he hasn’t hit the thing yet, but maybe if he aims a little lower, forces it to turn for him instead – when he sees the blade sliding out of Hamid’s chest. No. Absolutely not. Without checking it’s clear, he rushes forward, dropping the glaive to his side and redirecting that power into the tips of his fingers. He licks his thumb, presses it firmly to Hamid’s forehead, and, with a low note of please humming in the back of his chest, mutters words of hope and determination into the staticky air.

The wound heals almost immediately, closing like a budding flower in reverse to leave a raised, slightly jagged line of scar tissue; the only proof of how close Hamid was to death. His wings flutter, trying to unfurl in the confines of Cel’s arms, and for a moment, he stirs. Zolf and Cel both breathe out in relief, but by the time he opens his eyes, the poison overcomes him again, and he curls back into Cel’s chest with a contented sound, asleep and completely unaware of the danger around him.

Not exactly what I had in mind, Zolf thinks, but there’s no sharpness to it. The poison in the air was strong enough to knock out people twice Hamid’s size, so he can’t imagine how strong it must be on him. And besides: this might not be a fight where all of them – any of them – get out alive. Can he really blame Hamid for wanting to dream instead?]

“All right, Wilde,” Zolf says at last. “Let’s go for a walk.”

The gardens aren’t particularly large, but they use the space well—bright flowers lining the walkway, bushes and trees bunched together to create the illusion of depth and privacy. Beneath the largest tree, there’s a clear spot where the light filters through like sparkles and the roots breach the soil in just the right way to make a sort of alcove.

It’s exactly the sort of place Wilde would’ve yearned to write poetry in as a teenager, so of course he tugs Zolf over to sit down.

“Thought this was a walk,” Zolf says, eyebrows raised, but makes no argument when Wilde lays down with his head in Zolf’s  lap. His fingers quickly find their way into Wilde’s hair, untangling it little by little, and Wilde can’t stop himself from pushing into the touch with a little hum. Thankfully, Zolf just chuckles, scratching lightly at Wilde’s scalp for a moment before continuing.

There’s silence for a few moments, and Wilde idly searches for a pun he can use to fill it; it’s difficult to focus, though, when Zolf is gathering his hair into sections for a braid, those careful fingers brushing occasionally against his temple, his neck, his jaw.

Finally, what Wilde settles for is: “I hope we’re actually allowed out here. I’d hate to go home early because Grizzop took a swing at me again.”

Zolf snorts. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve always wished I had seen that in person.”

“Some partner you are,” Wilde grumbles, trying not to melt when Zolf tucks a few shorter strands of hair behind his ear. “S’posed to defend me, not join the enemy.”

[Zolf does a rapid once-over of Cel to make sure they’re not injured as well. They’re panting and wide-eyed and definitely only not in shock because there’s not time for it, but seem physically all right, which is about as much as he can hope for right now.

He glances to the door of the lab, where Ada and Skraak also seem to be managing okay—and, importantly, where there’s clean air and a door between them and the monster. Grabbing Cel’s arm, Zolf injects as much authority in his voice as he can and orders, “Get in there, close the door, be safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he sets his glaive on fire and turns back to the fight. They might not all make it out of here – always a risk, in this line of work – but he’ll still do his damndest to make sure at least some of them do.]

There’s no response, save for a suppressed smile and the continuous back-and-forth motion of Zolf’s steady hands. Wilde basks in it for a moment, getting to lay quietly in the grass without even his allergies interrupting them. It brings to mind when he was a child, rolling down muddy hills with his sister and seeing how long the world tiled after they reached the bottom, dazed and laughing.

“She would have loved this party,” he says, brushing a hand through the barely damp grass at his hip. “Isola, I mean.”

“You could’ve brought her, you know,” Zolf replies. “I could’ve- I dunno, watched her, or somethin’. Not like I was doing much anyway.”

Wilde laughs. “She would be terrified of you.”

[Moving has already proven dangerous, so Cel shifts Hamid in their arms and throws him through the door; once he’s safely inside, they swallow their alchemical allocation and pull a previously untouched potion from their jacket. Dragon’s breath—the one they’d been so excited to get after seeing a glimpse of Hamid’s power; the one they’d chattered back and forth about days or maybe months ago, excited to see when Cel might try it out.

“Not leaving you,” Cel says firmly to Zolf’s back, and chugs the potion. Lightning crackles in their body once again, except this time, it feels powerful instead of painful. This time, Cel is going to be helpful instead of helpless. Whatever it takes.]

Zolf snorts. “Oh, so that’s why I haven’t met her yet.”

“Yes, I’m just absolutely terrified you’ll smite her with all your holy rage,” Wilde deadpans, twisting obediently when Zolf taps the side of his head. “Or gods forbid, convert her to hope.”

“Oi,” Zolf says, tugging lightly on Wilde’s hair. “That hope has saved your arse twenty times by now.”

[Azu catches sight of Hamid breathing and nearly crumples with relief. He’s not dead, she didn’t kill him, she might not have to lose someone else—but there’s not time for that, not yet. They have to destroy this thing first, before it hurts anyone else.

She swings her axe as hard as she can, a scream building in her throat as it moans through the air, and – miraculously – it connects. There’s a satisfying thunk, a sharp note of pain; but as she goes to hit it again, it seems not just to dodge, but actively unform and reform around her axe. Learning. Adapting.

In the second it takes for Azu to regain her footing, the monster sinks one of its blades into Sumutnyerl’s chest. The air seems to freeze for a moment, but the strike is lower than it intended, in the stomach rather than the heart, so maybe it isn’t fatal, but Azu doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.]

Humming noncommittally, Wilde turns his head to look at Zolf, and when he sees the concentration in Zolf’s summer sky eyes, he’s pierced all over again with the force of how much he loves this man—and how much he, in return, is loved. Gods, Zolf is smiling the way he only ever does for a Campbell, and he’s braiding Wilde’s hair as if it’s the most important work his hands have been tasked with, and he looks so utterly, brilliantly happy that Wilde can hardly stand it.

“You alive in there?” Zolf says, tapping him lightly on the cheek.

[There is only one person left unharmed, the horror of the situation made almost a farce by Wilde’s oversized neck ruff and glittering cape. Almost, but not quite, because when the creature turns – body shifting in and out of focus, sword-like arms dripping with the blood of every other being in this corridor – it turns for him.]

Wilde smiles, catching Zolf’s hand before he can pull away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stupidly fond with it, and rests his lips against Zolf’s knuckles. Zolf’s breath hitches, staring with undisguised awe and quickly reddening cheeks, and Wilde can’t even look at him, he’s so happy. He ducks his head, pushing it against their joined hands; feels Zolf’s warm callouses all the way into his bones. “Thanks to you.”

[There is only one person left.]

“Wilde,” Zolf breathes; a prayer, a promise. Lips press clumsily to his hair, brush his temple as they soak in each other’s presence. “You saved me, too, ya know. So- so many times. I need you, yeah? And I- it- gods, I’m horrible at this, but I just, you’re

[Zolf sees it, this time, when Wilde dies. Sees the sword pierce his chest – right in the heart, a perfect shot – and yank back out with almost careless indifference before the creature turns and does the same thing to Sumutnyerl.

Even dead, Wilde manages to look artistic. His ridiculous cape is flung out beneath him, one arm draped above his head, the barest trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He’d been this way after the crash, too, impaled almost a foot off the ground with his limbs dangling and chin flung up to the sky; the perfect semblance of a martyr being raised into heaven. Had he been unconscious then, too? Zolf thinks. Or did he feel the spike go all the way through his chest before he succumbed from the pain?

Doesn’t matter. Zolf had time to mourn when he saved Wilde then; he doesn’t have time now.

Skraak and Ada both attack, but Zolf doesn’t know if the hits land, refuses to process anything that isn’t Wilde and the mere seconds left before he’s gone for good. He throws himself forward, landing hard on his knees beside Wilde’s head, and starts to pray. The magic builds like strong drink in his throat, and he clumsily wipes the blood from Wilde’s mouth as the spell reaches its peak—and is nearly knocked over as the monster deals a crushing blow to his temple.

His vision goes briefly white, blood already dripping down his cheek and jaw, and the magic begins to fizzle away, but he refuses, he refuses. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Zolf presses a hand firmly to the desecration of Wilde’s chest, cradles his cheek with the other. He’s still warm with hope, and Zolf channels that into his prayer, pressing their foreheads together in a way that might’ve been painful, had Wilde been awake to feel it.

Please, he begs the power inside him; begs anyone who’ll listen. Please. Let this be enough to bring him back to me.

The magic bubbles inside Zolf once more, sparkling and bright and warm, and there’s no way to know, really, if it’s enough. It doesn’t matter, of course, because he doesn’t need to know. Because when he presses his mouth to Wilde’s, stroking his cheek and breathing every last ounce of that vital energy into his body, Zolf has hope.

And there, where Zolf’s fingers curl tenderly against Wilde’s neck, new and weak but steady all the same—a pulse.]

 The first thing Wilde registers is breath on his face, warmth in his throat—then pain, all over his body but especially in his chest, gods, what happened? He opens his eyes, hoping to regain his bearings; Zolf is there, face mere inches away from his own, which is a nice start.

Realizing he’s awake, Zolf pulls away, fingertips brushing against Wilde’s cheek as he goes. His other hand is pressed firmly to Wilde’s chest, and there’s blood running freely from a wound at his temple. He looks about to cry.

If Wilde didn’t feel unmoored before, he certainly does now. “Zolf- wh- what-”

In lieu of an answer, Zolf pulls Wilde to his feet. There are flashes of movement to the side, none of which Wilde is capable of processing yet; Zolf grabs his arm, which is easier. He looks resolved, in that urgent way he used to get just before leaving on solo missions; Wilde has just enough time to be scared about that before Zolf pulls him close and says, “Get the others out and be safe.”

Wilde opens his mouth in question, but Zolf’s already shoving him away. He stumbles backwards a few steps, more out of shock than actual force, before losing his balance and landing hard on his elbows just inside the lab. His neck snaps back a little, making his vision swim, but he blinks hard to clear it and now, now, he sees it all. The creature. The dead. The ones left standing.

For just a moment, Wilde catches sight of Zolf’s face before he turns away. His eyes nearly glow, lips parted around gritted teeth, and there is rage in his features like Wilde has never seen before. Then he raises his burning glaive, this idiotic man that Wilde loves so unbearably much, and growls, “Right. It’s yer turn now.”

#this fic and i did hand-to-hand combat for NEARLY TWO WEEKS before i bested it #please appreciate it in my honor #rqg #rusty quill gaming #zoscar #rqg wilde #rqg oscar wilde #lolomg #cel sidebottom #rqg azu #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #zolf smith #rqg 207 #rqg fic #zoscar fic #rqg fanfiction #zoscar fanfiction

[starlightthroughbrokenglass]

Zoscar Fic Recs

Since rqg is ending tomorrow and we’re trying to get our beloved podcast trending one more time before the final episode drops, I’ve decided to make a fic rec list of some of the fics I’ve read in the time I’ve been in the fandom. Obviously this is just a selection and there are many more amazing fics out there. (I had to really cut down the list because I have so many favourites!) But I wanted to spread some love and maybe someone will find a new fic they haven’t read yet. I’m gonna put the recs under the cut because it got long.

Answers by Flammenkobold (0.5k, rated G):

It's been a year since they saved the world, and Zolf still doesn't have an answer to what they are. Maybe he doesn't have to.

~

A million lights they flicker there by makesometime (1k, rated G):

“I had a thought.”

Zolf looks up at Oscar curiously from his side of the bed, setting the book closed and laying it on his chest. “Alright. You gonna tell me about it, you mysterious bugger?”

~

warm and sane by oakleaf_bearer (1.5k, rated G):

"You're staring, Zolf."

Zolf hummed. He was fully aware that he was staring, just as he was aware Wilde had caught him a full five minutes ago and had only brought it up now.

-

zolf and wilde reminisce over old times

set in 179 just after zolf and wilde's pre-dawn chat but before the breakfast

~

Pieces of me are pieces of you by makesometime (1.5k, rated G):

“There’s a lot of people.” Wilde agrees. “It’s still a little strange.”

“Yeah.” Zolf says, clutching up his hand even though they’re both wearing heavy mittens. It’s a bit of a struggle, but it’s nice. “Stay close.”

Wilde smiles, fond and surprised. “Alright, Zolf.”

~

Hopin’ That You See Me by ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand (2k, rated G):

It was only a matter of time.

~

In the interest of honesty by limeblood (2k, rated G):

'“There are things I’m not good at, not really, not honestly,” Oscar whispered into the dark, the fear in his voice matched by certainty.  “But I want to be honest with you.  And I’m worried the honest truth won’t be enough and I don’t know what I’ll do then.”'

-

After the fireside chats in RQG 181, Zolf and Wilde go back to their own tent to clear the air

~

The Important Questions by Angel Ascending (Angel_in_ink) (2k, rated G):

“I have questions,” Wilde says, because of course he does. Who wouldn’t?

“Go on.” Zolf hopes he doesn’t sound as tired as he feels. The man has a right to his answers, even if all Zolf wants to do is sleep, now that the worst of things is over.

~

At Your Convenience by HoloXam (2.5k, rated G):

While [Zolf] waits for the eggs to cook, he leans back against Wilde. “Food in a minute,” he says. Wilde hums and turns his head, so his cheek now rests against Zolf's scalp.

“This is probably why people think we're a couple,” Wilde says, arms snaking their way around Zolf's neck.

“They—” Zolf swallows. “People know about this part?”

“Maybe,” Wilde says.

-

In which Zolf cooks and Wilde tries to save face with a pun.

~

out of nothing and into more by oakleaf_bearer (3k, rated G):

The door slammed open as Wilde stumbled into their small safehouse, blood running down his face. Zolf was on his feet in a heartbeat, arms already outstretched for him even as Wilde fell. It was clumsy to catch him, their nearly two foot height difference sending Zolf staggering as he lowered Wilde to the floor.

-

my take on wilde's scar and zolf's magic

~

but i got love!! by shofics (3.5k, rated T):

After the war ends, Zolf & Wilde stay together. They don’t need to have a word for why. Right? ...Right? Otherwise known as: two asexuals with varying opinions on sex and romance navigate a relationship they were too stubborn and awkward to understand when it started.

-

“I followed you all the way around the gods damned globe!” Zolf bursts out. “We fought literal monsters together for almost two years! I pulled your bleedin’ *corpse* off a bit of plankin’ and we had a lovely chat in the astral plane about your worth as a sentient being!”

“So we trauma-bonded, good for us! Baring our souls to one another-“ Wilde makes an ungainly grab for the pen, and Zolf holds it out of his reach.

“It’s like a bloody Campbell novel.” Zolf gives Wilde a helpless look. “And you don’t, you don’t even care if I kiss you?”

~

Scared of the Question, Scared of the Answer by ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand (3.5k, rated G):

He thinks for a moment, thinking of Azu and Kiko, of Cel and Barnes, and how they’ve been dancing around each other for the last couple of weeks. It’s a delicate game, testing the waters and quirking eyebrows and a whole lot of communication through body language that’s never meant anything to Zolf. “I dunno… Don’t couples use like… Pet names? We could. Try that,” Zolf feels his cheeks heat instantly. “That’s stupid, I-“

“Oh, no,” Wilde interrupts, and Zolf already hates the grin spreading across his features. “I think that’s a rather splendid idea, really."

~

Catching On by knifemartin (Wonderfully_Wandering_Alone) (4k, rated G):

He was reluctant to believe it at first, but it's undoubtably a cold when it hits. Wilde hates being sick. It means less time to ge things done and more relying on others.

~

There will come a poet whose weapon is His word by oscarlovesthesea (4.5k, rated T):

Going to cast prestidigitation is more instinct than anything else at this point, so when he does and is only met with a cold, hard wall instead of the usual warm flood of magic, it takes him a moment to realise what is wrong. And then he does, and he stares back at his shaved head and his dark eyes back in the mirror and his chest tightens until he can’t breathe, his lungs filling with bitterness and grief as a single tear, unprompted, starts rolling down his cheek.

-

Reflections on Oscar Wilde's anti-magic cuffs.

~

ah, but i’m singing like a bird ‘bout it now by shofics (5.5k, rated G):

“I just mean I won’t force you to come with me, Zolf,” Wilde says. He feels Zolf’s fingers still, and even he, who in another life could have been famous for his words alone, cannot put a name to the emotion that that causes to rise in his heart.

After a moment, Zolf’s fingers begin to move again. “Where you’re goin’ I’m goin’,” he says gruffly, and Wilde can feel the nervousness in it, but he says it with such conviction, such quiet simplicity, like it’s a fact of nature; trees are green, water flows downhill, and Zolf and Wilde will stay together. “‘S my choice.”

~

Take heart, fair days will shine; take any heart, take mine by makesometime (5.5k, rated G):

Long ago he learnt to cast without song, to use witticisms and oration to bring forth his ideas. He is so comfortable with that technique that he senses it becoming his norm now, in this world lacking in fear and battle. And that would be fine, he thinks, were he not half convinced it would mean he never sings again.

 or

Oscar's journey back to the joy of song and singing through the medium of amateur dramatics and adorable children.

~

Growing Fonder by knifemartin (Wonderfully_Wandering_Alone) (6.5k, rated G):

It starts innocently with Sweetheart, but Wilde realises he won't let it stop there, no matter what Zolf thinks of it all.

~

some kind of miracle by escherzo (8k, rated T):

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Wilde asks finally, into the stillness of the night, when he had been quiet so long Zolf half-thought he was already asleep.

“Yeah,” Zolf says, finding that his voice comes out hoarse. “I think so.”

~

Unity by knifemartin (Wonderfully_Wandering_Alone) (8k, rated G):

Shofic's postcanon weddings, but expanded

~

some kind of miraculous bind by shofics (10.5k, rated T):

After it all, Zolf and Wilde get married. It takes them a minute to get there, though.

//

”Doesn’t it feel good to imagine leaving all those infuriating, self-centred bastards in their horrible fancy clothes just dripping? Cold water in their trousers, no more smug looks-“ he stops. “Zolf, I think I finally understand you.”

Zolf snorts. “Glad to hear you’ve made it.”

“You know me darling, fashionably late or nothing,” Wilde says, eyes twinkling. “If I remember correctly we had to take a detour through the Northern Wastes, forgive me if I’m arriving a bit behind schedule.”

Darling. He’s been doing that a lot recently. Zolf hasn’t commented on it, but not because he doesn’t want to.

~

baby you’re my holy ghost (and i need you close, come back to me) by shofics (13k, rated T):

[I’m not a saint, but do I have to be?]

“So incredibly an arse more like,” Zolf says huffily, and Wilde can’t help but lose it at that, exploding into merry peals of helpless laughter that ring over the freezing cliff. Zolf stares at him indignantly for half a second, and then he breaks too, and Wilde clutches his hands as they catch each other’s eyes and lose it all over again; two grown men giggling like children, helpless and manic with all they’ve seen, sitting together at the darkening edge of the world and holding each other like they might either fall off or fall apart if they let go.

“Oh, gods,” Wilde says breathlessly, dizzy from laughing, “you brought me back from the dead by promising me a vacation...”

(In which Wilde learns what he wants, and together they find out how to ask for it.)

~

Northern Star by knifemartin (Wonderfully_Wandering_Alone) (13.5k, not rated):

The world has changed, and there's no going back. Zolf just needs to learn how to move forwards instead, and who's worth taking with him. Or, Zolf finds himself, Wilde finds Zolf, and they figure out the rest together.

~

Seven Days by Miri1984 (14.5k, rated M):

Oscar Wilde let someone get too close to him and paid the price. He's definitely not doing that again. Nope. Not ever. Nosirree.

~

Across The Waves by oscarlovesthesea (26k, rated G):

“I don’t know who I am without my work, anymore," Wilde exhales,  "and I don’t – I don’t know how to find out. We saved the world, and so much of it I’ve never seen as myself, just as whatever purpose I was fulfilling there.” Zolf can feel him breathe deeply next to him. He’s staring into the distance, brow furrowed.

“You could do that now,” he suggests, and he isn’t sure why he says it, or what he’s trying to achieve by it. “Travel, I mean. See the world, or whatever.”

“Yes, I could,” Wilde says slowly. Then he adds, like the words are spilling out of him, “You could come with me, if you wanted.”

Zolf breathes in, as slow as he can. He’d known, from the moment they’d started talking, that this is where they might end up, and still the proposal takes him by surprise.

“You don’t have to,” Wilde is saying over the drumming in Zolf’s chest, “but you said you didn’t know what to do, so…”

“I’d like that,” he blurts out, taking himself by surprise with the certainty of it. “I think I’d like that.”

-

A story about traveling, and healing, and finding a home.

~

see the worth by starstrung (26.5k, rated E):

Wilde goes to stay at a lighthouse temple of Poseidon to heal from his curse. He's not expecting to fall for the lighthouse's grief-stricken keeper.

~

Five Nights (series) by butterflymind (35.5k, rated G):

Five nights in six months, somewhere in Japan. 

~

He had promised Oscar somewhere by the sea to read his terrible reviews. 

~

Home is where the heart is. And if you're lucky, the rest of you makes it back as well.

~

Midnights in October by knifemartin (Wonderfully_Wandering_Alone) (45k, rated G):

With his magic gone and his team lost, Wilde returns to the only other person he knows he can trust. Sometimes the only way out is through, even when that seems impossible too.

#rusty quill gaming #rqg #zoscar #zolf smith #rqg oscar wilde #fic recs #starlight talks

[kindofwriter]

if you dont mind me asking, what did actual oscar wilde look like?

I will feel mildly like a stalker, despite that fact that he’s been dead over 100 years and I literally study his life for my degree, but yeah, I don’t mind at all!

This is sort of mid twenties to mid thirties, because that’s what I reckon Alex was going for in RQG, and also what I know about best:

The vague phrase ‘he was a big guy’ may as well have been invented for Wilde. He was just a Big Guy. 6’3” at a time when 5’10” was still considered quite tall, broad-shouldered, and chubby to the point where his friends, family, and the media thought it pertinent to comment on. He wasn’t particularly muscular or in good shape - he tried his hand at a lot of sports as a child, but rifle shooting and badminton are the only ones that really stuck - but he definitely had the build for it if he’d chosen to go down that route.

During this time he mostly wore his hair about his chin. People who didn’t like him said it looked greasy and lank, but others thought it quite dashing and found it well-maintained. The latter certainly aligns better with photographs, but Wilde was just a person - likelihood is it was sometimes greasy. He would, on occasion, curl it, and in the mid 1880s cut it short again. Short for Wilde, however, was still just above the ears.

He was very pale and had light freckles across his face (very likely across his shoulders and down his arms too, but this was the Victorian era; people who would have known that are few and far between!).

Wilde notably never smiled with his mouth open, which did lead to some quite awkward photographs. His teeth were large and slightly crooked, so whenever he laughed he would cover his mouth with his hand. This was probably far more noticeable than the fact that his teeth were a little crooked.

He had quite plump cheeks and a soft jaw line, though even his sister in law, who absolutely read him to filth in her descriptions of him, agreed it was in fact still a jaw line.

And finally, largely un-debated: light blue eyes.

The majority of women (and Americans!) thought him charming and handsome. A large percentage of men were jealous, but of the attention he received from women, rather than of the man himself. A small handful of men just wanted to snog his face off (though settled for less agressive, but not more consensual, kisses).

(Btw, I’m not in the slightest trying to say Alex and RQ artists are wrong. He’s basing historical figures on what they were remembered for, and Wilde - for some reason, lol - is remembered for being a twink. It’s fictional, he’s a different person! If you know me you’ll know I absolutely, 100% believe we need media where fat people are allowed to be, and are depicted as, hot. But I really wasn’t hanging all my hopes on fictional RPG Oscar Wilde. This is simply a post of historical intrigue!)

#rqg #Oscar Wilde #for once the real guy! #author's note

[cuddlytogas]

I wrote RQG fic! queerplatonic (?? even they don't really know what's happening) Zolf/Oscar; rated G, no warnings; 4277 words

Wilde premieres a play, and the remnants of an old mercenary group reconvene to get some thrilling news, but Zolf might be having second thoughts about the decision. A bit of post-apocalypse, post-canon fluff.

I just. have a lot of thoughts about Zolf, and marriage, and being happy. (And also Azu in a big fancy dress.)

#Rusty Quill Gaming #RQG #Zolf Smith #RQG Oscar Wilde #zoscar #queerplatonic zoscar #fluff #post canon #fanfiction #Togas writes things #christ alive this is barely edited but I desperately just wanna post it and be done #it's been on my mind for about two weeks and it's killing me #so let me know if there's a dumb grammar problem or something i've missed lol #YES i dropped a reference to de profundis in there #YES i've been slowly reading my collected wilde #and YES i have a lot of emotions about it!!

[organchordsandlightning]

why am I having rqg feelings now  (spoilers for finale under cut, potential neg/crit)

my gut instinct after listening to the finale was generally pretty negative, and then after time it improved (it’s rare i’ve seen a fantasy setting take the magic away! they did really flesh out what sort of precautions would need to be taken), and now I thought about the character arcs and I think I might be looping back around to negative again. hmm. much to consider

b/c the ending truly did come out of nowhere, in terms of Myriad, and it left a lot of questions (at least for me, personally) unanswered. it feels to me like the original ending would have involved the blue veins a lot more, but given the whole world situation, i can see why they’d want to shy away from it [because the gameplay really did shift away from ‘ahhh contagious zombie-esque plague’]

from a zolf and oscar perspective, i’m also kind of. ehhh. that zolf just immediately left after five years. while i think him running away for a little while would be in line with his character, it feels like it kind of ignores a good deal of the emotional growth he’d made (five years???? just sorta. zoinking for five years when that was the same emotional call he’d make when the podcast started?) in general, it does sadden me a little to know that all the party members immediately parted ways, especially considering the state of the world? with those of the party with family members/strong ties to their town (hamid/cel, mostly), I understand it more, but it just seemed so odd that they met again after five years and it had some of the awkwardness of a high school reunion (especially when intra-party chemistry was pretty strong).

i’m just kinda. hhh. about it, I suppose? I feel as if I like the ending on principle (stripping magic out of a fantasy world is really enticing), but it doesn’t feel like the story rqg was trying to tell.

[an-aura-about-you]

Top 5 least favorite characters in RQG GO

Oh man. This is both easy and hard. And also very spoilery so under a cut.

Again, not sure I can put these guys in order, but I'll do what I can.

-Barret Racket UGGGGGGGH Sasha's garbage crimelord uncle. Hate him. He got what he deserved in the end. I don't even wanna talk about him.

-Eldarion Sasha's tutor who tried to make her a lady. Wow she was exhausting. Why she thought Sasha would vouch for her is beyond me.

-Liliana Beekos aaaaaa Hamid's ex-girlfriend from uni who apparently isn't going to hear out Hamid's side of the prank gone wrong that led to his expulsion but will listen to Hamid's old bestie and co-conspirator Gideon feed her lies. I ain't saying she owes Hamid anything, certainly not a relationship or forgiveness or fond feelings. But girl, you're marrying Gideon?!?! I'm 100% with Hamid yelling, "FIANCE?!?!?!" when he found out that little tidbit. Not to mention she's working with Franz Kafka, and I ain't particularly fond of him, either. (Like, on the one hand, he did kill Bertie. But on the other, he also killed Aziza.)

-Saleh Amoun al-Tahan It's ridiculous how most of this list is people so involved in Hamid's life, but it would feel dishonest not to mention Hamid's controlling father. Can't let anyone know your kids make mistakes, but also can't let your kids face the consequences of their actions, can you Dad? We see a lot of characters that are bad influences in Hamid's life, but honestly Saleh's actions when the gang was in Cairo tell me he's probably the worst of them if for no other reason than because Hamid is so willing to go along with his father's plans. I'm glad the team at this point had Grizzop and Azu since they both have such strong moral compasses.

-Sir Bertrand "Bertie" MacGuffingham Ohhhh Bertie. The flaming poo dimension is too good for you. I have a love/hate relationship with him at times but as time went on and James played up how awful he truly is, that definitely tipped more towards hate. I do have some fondness for his earlier bits with the gang. But with his callousness during the wager to get to France that left a lot of people stranded in a dangerous situation, brutally murdering an animal that had already made its retreat, attempting to murder Harrison Cambell after finding the manuscript of his next book with a Bertie-inspired antagonist, and the confrontation with Kafka in which Bertie chose to sacrifice Hamid's sister Aziza in order to survive, I don't think I really have any other choice but to hate him. Honestly, the best thing about him is that he fucked Oscar Wilde. That shit's hilarious.

And because I want to, honorable mention to that one dude Skraak brutally murdered who was complicit in keeping the kobolds imprisoned in the Shoin Institute. Your death was also too good for you.

#thanks for the ask! #rqg #this was fun #clearly I'm more affected by characters in personal relationship dynamics than I am the overarching villains

[fifteefoolish]

rqg 188 // illegible ramblings

im going to both applause and gently bonk ben and alex on the head! fuck that was such a good episode!!!! they bounce so well of each other and ben is also very good at being alex's crime puppet! i'm also sooo fucking proud of hamid and i really loved the way bryn played that scene. cel, oh cel... i adore their thought processes and relate to them so much. i'm very excited to see what'll happen.

mr zolf smith, gosh i adored the voices and once again ben fucking killed it. just a joy to listen to their conversation! god i love feryns voice so much! azu!!!! i want 1 azu to give me a hug 2 to give azu a hug 3 to give grizzop a hug. that wom womp that ben gave when she couldn't summon topaz, i can fucking hear the fact he know's what's going on, which is also fascinating. it sucks to see him like that but also azu mm i hope she's okay! it's gonna suck for her and be hard to listen to but despite the situation it's honestly such a joy to hear grizzop. basically i was too busy being impressed and fascinated to be sad! also! i am sad. i am worried about who oscar is going to see. my guess leans towards sasha? although grizzop was the last one he saw out of the 2 and he probably has a lot of feelings about grizzop saving him like i do, i think that despite knowing sasha lived that he will have a lot of feelings about that. if so sasha where would it be? on the glassed factory in Damascus? he'd walk up the hill to there from the campsite and see her completely isolated in the centre of the factory (next to the pump hole hehehe) or maybe he'd wake up at his desk in his office in damascus or the temple of artemis. maybe then azu and wilde can have a hug. i would hate for it to be sasha, as much as it sucks for it to be grizzop, i feel it would hurt all the more from her. either way BIG HUGS after please and thank you mr newell.

#rqg #rqgaming #rusty quill gaming #rqg spoilers #rqg 188 #alex newell #ben meredith #bryn monroe #helen gould #lydia nicholas #zolf smith #grizzop drik acht amsterdam #azu #cel sidebottom #celiquillithon sidebottom #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #feryn smith #aziza al tahan

[dedicatedfollower467]

rqg long ask game: 3, 6, 7, 8

3. [Choose a character] switches classes. What kind of skills would they now have, and how would it affect the game?

man this is such a broad question. i think one of the most interesting answers to this is what would happen if grizzop wasn't a paladin. i think it would be really interesting to see Actual Ranger grizzop - for one thing, he'd be a lot better at tracking. and for another, i would LOVE to see what grizzop would pick as his favored enemy. i feel like undead would have the greatest utility in the game, but humanoid (human) would be a verrrrry interesting character choice (and also have a lot of utility in the game). frankly, tho, seeing the way ben builds characters, i think he probably would have gone for undead, since he would have known his character was bounty hunting a necromancer. i also have to imagine he'd pick urban as his favored terrain, because of the nature of the game they're playing. the biggest drawback to grizzop being a ranger would be the lack of a healer - rangers don't get spells until 4th level, and it's a fairly limited list - there aren't any first level healing spells on it. the party would have had to rely on healing potions, which would have probably been pretty expensive. they would have been a lot more cautious, i think, up until they met azu.

6. What’s a location you can picture perfectly each time it’s brought up? Describe it.

i.... am actually not very good at picturing locations based on descriptions. i think probably my strongest image for a particular location is Newton's study, actually, but a lot of that is because in my head it's very similar to the office of my advisor in college - large desk with a lamp and a little writing pad on it, bookshelves lining either side, a great big window behind the desk with a tiny (probably fake) plant in the windowsill.

7. The campaign is now set in your favourite AU, but the plot has to stay roughly same. How do things play out?

I'M LITERALLY WRITING THE DAEMON AU WRITE NOW ES. HOW MANY TIMES ARE YOU GONNA ASK ME ABOUT THE DAEMON AU WITHOUT ACTUALLY ASKING ME ABOUT IT.

in all seriousness, though, the story doesn't really have to change much, which is kinda the thing i like about daemon aus; i don't actually have to invent any plot lol. the major differences are in character interactions - having daemons means you can play around with levels of intimacy and have the daemons blurt out things their people would never say.

also i have some thoughts about what happens to a daemon when you die in RQG, because it would have to be different from HDM canon for resurrection to be an actually viable option. but i think i'll keep that a secret for now.

8. [Choose a character]. How do you image their appearance and outfits changing throughout the campaign?

lmao i don't. literally, apart from canonical changes like zolf's hair and sasha's scars, i don't actually picture any of them changing much at all throughout the campaign. a lot of this is because i tend to picture characters the way i draw them, and i have a pretty solid "this is what these characters look like" design for the RQG characters.

my one exception to this is i think cel has longer hair at the end of the months-long airship ride than they did when the party met them, but like. their hair is so wild all the time anyway you genuinely couldn't tell unless you took before and after photos.

...actually, now that i think about it, i also have a fairly decent progression for wilde's appearance, but again, that's based 100% on canon appearance changes, i just think he probably grew out the nightmare buzzcut in between damascus and japan. fwiw, i generally draw 18-month-gap wilde with historical oscar wilde's actual short haircut. not that i've drawn a ton of 18-month-gap wilde yet.

#rusty quill gaming #rqg #rqg headcanon #def answers asks #consultingjedi