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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

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Passing Through

Dannymay Day 5: Doorway

“Don’t go in there,” his mother warned. Her voice shook. “Never go through that door.”

Danny had no intention of ignoring his mother, especially since the night she’d given him that warning was seared so thoroughly in his mind he didn’t think even as an adult he’d ever forget it.

It had been dark, but not any darker than any other night with Danny’s myriad nightlights and glowing stars stuck everywhere he could reach and then some. The night had long since settled, and Danny was supposed to be sleeping and was instead, like any young child, not doing that.

In fact, he’d been staring out his window, arm balanced on the sill and face pressed up against the glass so he could see the night sky in all her glory. It was one of the only times he felt truly comfortable, alone and with his parents and sister asleep. He often imagined himself sailing amongst those stars. Or flying high enough to reach out and cradle one to his chest.

Jazz always told him that was impossible, that each star was as far away from each other as they were from earth, if not further. He told her she could eat dirt, and she got a hurt look in her eyes that made him feel bad, but he didn’t apologize because she was being mean first.

He’d been preoccupied, that’s why he didn’t notice it at first.

When the soft pink touch of the sun started obscuring the night’s stars, Danny realized he’d been up all night and he was probably going to fall asleep in class again. He turned around to quickly dive into bed to at least feign having slept so his parents didn’t scold him and feel like they had to check in on him at night the way they threatened to last time.

He hadn’t expected the door.

It was small, very small compared to a normal door. It was just large enough that Danny could crawl through on all fours, and he knew there was no way his dad would ever be able to get through. At least not more than an arm. Maybe his head if he tried to dive through it.

The door was closed, a soft, purple light on the other side painting the carpet beneath where it stood, balanced, in the middle of the room. Acting as if it was placed in the wall like any good door, but missing the wall itself entirely.

Danny walked closer, his mind off bed times and getting ready for school entirely. Now he was thinking of adventures and stories Jazz used to read him before he could read himself. Stories of exploration and hidden worlds. His hand brushed against the polished brass handle, and a jolt of electricity flowed through him, causing every hair in his body to stand on end.

He probably should have let go then, released the handle and backed up, frightened. But instead Danny’s grip tightened and he twisted the nob, pulling it slowly open, his heart beating in rapt anticipation. It was barely open a sliver, the tiniest bit of purple light spilling out onto the frame, when his mother ran into the room and slammed it closed.

She was wearing a hazmat suit, as if she’d just come from the lab downstairs, with thick rubber gloves and ominous red goggles that reflected a twisted version of Danny’s face back at him as she pulled him into a tight, unforgiving hug.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said, her words heavy with exertion. Had she run up here? How did she know there was a door?

Danny looked over his mother’s shoulder to take another look, but the door had vanished at some point when his eyes were no longer locked upon it. That was when she gave him her warning. The one he had no intention of ignoring.

The one he was disregarding now, for no reason other than he was sick of it. He was tired of the nights, laying awake and seeing a door that promised so much and had yet to be given the opportunity to deliver.

His mother would skin him alive if she knew, but she’d probably never find out. Honestly, if Tucker’s theories were true and it was some monster trying to trick him into its lair Coraline-style, it’d probably take at least a week for her to even realize he was gone. His dad probably wouldn’t notice at all.

Jazz…

Danny shook his head. If anything, Jazz would be the one to forgive him for being dumb. She understood what it was like to have this burning curiosity, this need to know.

The door didn’t always appear. Most nights it did, but only when Danny was distracted by something, usually the stars outside his window, sometimes a particularly fun video game or a good book. It only ever appeared right on the cusp of night and morning, before the sun rose fully but after the stars hid away. And it always waited for him to look away before it disappeared.

He didn’t plan on looking away tonight.

The first night after his mother’s warning, he’d stayed up all night, terrified, waiting for the door to appear. It never did. In fact, the next month, he spent every second awake expecting it to appear and being almost disappointed when it didn’t.

It appeared again, in much the same way it had the first time, while Danny was star gazing.

That’s why, now, knowing the rules (or rather what few rules he could tell from this side of the door), Danny was determined to follow through. None of his questions would be answered just waiting for the door to appear or not appear, nor would they be answered by spending time staring at it and studying it from the outside.

He needed to go through.

The brass knob was cold against his palm, and it turned easily. The click of the mechanism was loud in the night’s quiet. He held his breath. He opened the door.

There was no resistance when it swung open. Almost the opposite, in fact, like it had been waiting for an excuse. The soft purple light that had teased the edges of the door was much closer to a deep, swirling purple that looked almost like mist and obscured the path forward.

But Danny wasn’t scared.

He was curious.

He stepped through, and heard the door close softly behind him. Just like in a horror movie really, and exactly like the stories his mother told him, warning him of monsters and things from the other side.

It didn’t matter anymore, if he’d made the right choice. He’d made his choice and there was only one path to take. Danny walked into the mists and kept walking.

No more than an hour could have passed, but it felt like much longer. Time seemed to stretch along with the endless path, and Danny hadn’t come any closer to the answers he wanted.

He sighed. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he tried calling out, to no avail.

This was turning out to be a waste of a trip. With all the cryptic warnings, he’d hoped it wouldn’t be boring at the very least, yet here he was. The only difference between this and one of Sam’s ‘nature hikes’ was that Danny couldn’t see anything through the damned purple mist.

Or could he?

Danny squinted his eyes, catching something moving just to his left. It was very much hidden, the deep purple of its cloak camouflaged perfectly against the swirling purples all around him. He took a step closer, off the path, and felt the air still around him.

A voice, haunting and deep, startled him.

“A quick learner,” it said.

Danny felt his mouth go dry. There was actually someone here, someone that might not be human. Someone that could summon a door into a kids room for half a decade waiting for them to open it.

Someone who might have answers.

Danny stepped closer, and the mist seemed to gather, catching on itself and folding into a physical shape. The hooded figure. Danny forced himself not to blink. It felt like anything was possible, that if he looked away, he’d miss too much to make sense of it later.

The hooded figure turned to him and beckoned with one gloved hand, the other holding a twisting, intricate staff covered in shapes and symbols Danny couldn’t quite make out. Danny didn’t step any closer.

It was clear this man wasn’t human, or at the very least hadn’t been for some time. The only thing Danny could see hidden under the cloak was an old clock. But even then, Danny couldn’t tell whether it was something he was wearing on his chest or if it simply was his chest and there was nothing else.

“You’re still cautious, even now when you’ve already made your decision?” the figure asked. “Did you not seek an answer to your curiosity?”

Danny frowned. This whatever-it-was knew more than he was comfortable with. Had he been watching from the other side? How? Is that why the door only appeared when it did? Why couldn’t he just open the door and step out if his goal was to spirit Danny away like in the stories?

There were just so many questions, and Danny still didn’t have any answers.

“Do you actually have any answers or are you just going to eat me?” he asked, growing irritated. It had been a long night, made longer by his fruitless walk, and it was starting to affect his temper.

Instead of answering, the figure lowered his arm, tilting his head to the side. “If you thought I was going to eat you, why did you come through the door? You’ve been very good at ignoring it so far.”

“Yeah see,” Danny said, throwing up his hands, “that kind of stuff only makes you sound more creepy and suspicious, you know! If your goal is child eating you should set up, idk a candy house or something. Pretend to be a grandma, I hear that works wonders provided you stay out of your own oven.”

The figure laughed. It sounded, off, not like a noise Danny recognized, but more like a collage of sounds: a ticking clock chiming with heavy clanking clockwork all wrapped in canary song and it vibrated all the way through Danny from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It filled the air around them much like the mist once did and Danny felt glee himself, caught up as he was.

He looked up desperately at the figure, trying to keep ahold of himself and how he truly felt, lost in the sudden sea of emotion. The figure’s cloak was bunched up, as if he was doubled over in laughter, his gloves clutching at his staff and the entire collection shaking with slight tremors.

The hood turned towards him, empty, and Danny’s panic spiked. The laughter stopped, and the figure stood once more, pulling the hood further down and hiding the nothingness underneath.

“I apologize,” he said, sincere. “It’s been some time since I’ve felt in such good humor, and you took me off guard. I hope you didn’t get too swept away?”

Danny, who was still definitely feeling the effects of the other’s laughter, shook his head no. “I’m alright. I just- what are you?”

“I am like Clockwork,” he answered readily. “Though the question you should be asking, Daniel, is what are you? That is a much more interesting answer.”

Disagreeing vehemently, Danny shook his head. Like Clockwork? Was that his name? Why he had a clock, er, was a clock? How did that work? What was he? Simply what his name implied? Something more? There were a billion and a half questions he wanted answers to that were more interesting than that.

Then again, there had to be a reason he said it, right? “Okay Clockwork, I’ll bite. What am I?”

He could swear the thing smiled. “You are halfway there.”

#dannymay2021 #danny phantom #clockwork #danny fenton #horror #horror themes #loosely based off TPoH #but not nearly that well thought out #Bee's writing

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turntothree · 7 years

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Ry& Reaction: Wolves & Shepherds

E3 came early this year! ...OK, it didn’t but it certainly felt that way, kind of.

It seems in recent years, game publishers have been tripping over themselves to take up valuable space on that pre-show hype train. I’m talking teasers, press releases, cryptic tweets and anything else they can think of to score some attention before the big three step in and snatch the spotlight. Hell, we’ve seen E3 grow an extra couple days to accommodate more publisher-sponsored events.

Editor’s Note: Really looking forward to that keynote, Devolver Digital!

A few weeks back, Ubisoft decided to do things its own way and steer the train in a slightly different direction with a bombshell announcement most other companies would save for the trade show.

Editor’s Note: NO! NO! That wasn’t released, it escaped!

Damn, man. I was just kidding. It’s going to be alright.

Anyway...this is what I’m really talking about.

Yup, the French gaming giant casually name dropped one of its top secret E3 reveals in a nonchalant tweet, a whole month before the show. But it didn’t stop there. One week later, the aforementioned Youtube suite released a...let’s call it “tourism video” for the humble little town of Hope County, Montana.

Editor’s Note: I have a “MIGHTY” fine feeling about this place.

What? You’ve got crisp country air for breathin’, plenty of wild game for huntin, a nice clean creek for fishin’ and plenty of big ol’ green acres to roam. Of course, you’d have to overlook the constant bear attacks, air strikes, ominously empty streets and the prospect of being randomly murdered, but what town doesn’t have its share of problems?

Editor’s Note: Wait...wasn’t Far Cry 4’s announcement handled in a similar fashion? Letting the fanbase sneak a peek behind the curtain; then slamming the curtain back down until a good and proper reveal at E3? Isn’t that what’s going on here?

You’d think so, but...

Dateline – May 26, 2017

IGN’s Daemon Hatfield and Marty Silva greeted the California sunrise with a live (and exclusive) reveal of Far Cry 5’s first proper trailer. In it, would-be players are told the sad tale of how a struggling working-class town was taken in by a wealthy con artist who promised the world.

This self-proclaimed “prophet” Joseph Seed and his twisted family of disciples preached of peace and prosperity; instead they delivered onto his flock a life of servitude and unabashed cruelty. He used his good fortune to giveith himself their property. He used his cultish militia to takeith away their free will. The chosen among “his” townsfolk would be baptised into his parish or they would surely perish.

In a town past the edge of civility, a brave few in the community have chosen to fight back against Seed’s ghoulish gospel and reclaim what’s theirs. In this holy war for the soul of America’s heart land, it is up to the player to lead the resistance.

That’s the story (at least up to that point)...as for gameplay, the trailer didn’t show too much, but it caught fans a quick glimpse at some old and new tricks alike.

As said previously, the hunting mechanics are back, but with a new batch of wildlife to track. Bears, deer, wolves, cows and bulls are among the critters in the mix. In a similar vain, fishing will be implemented into the series for the first time. Catch and fry up some bass for hit points!

Also returning are the conveniently placed vehicles. Fast travel and open road/seas/(and for the first time) sky combat will be a breeze with your choice of motor boats, ATVs, 18 wheelers, muscle cars and fighter planes.

Of course, the series’ standard first-person gunplay will remain locked and loaded.

Oh and the world-wide release date for Far Cry 5 has been set for February 27, 2018. The platforms in which it will be made available are as follows: Xbox One, PlayStation 4 and PC. Sorry, Nintendo fans. No Switch port is planned.

Editor’s Note: That’s a fair bit of information. Surely, that’s enough to appease fans for now.

Actually, Ubisoft continued the Youtube rollout with three more trailers; specifically the stories of the three main support characters as told by them in direct conversation with the player.

Meet Nick Rye: A third-generation fighter pilot who had been fortunate enough to have never seen combat, but when “Eden’s Gate” comes knockin’ on his doorstep, Nick is the first to enlist in the resistance.

youtube

Meet Mary May Fairgrave: A bartender pushed to the edge after both her brother and mother are kidnapped by Seed’s followers; now her family-owned establishment serves as a home for anyone looking to bust a cap in “Eden’s Ass!”

youtube

Meet Jerome Jefferies: The local pastor turned shepherd in wolves clothing; charged with the task of taking back the flock “father” Seed had led astray.

youtube

Monologues aside, the folks at UbiBlog also had the chance to catch up with Far Cry 5 Creative Director Dan Hay, who discussed the modern day anxieties, urban legends and Montana road trip that inspired the game’s theme and setting. That interview was also posted to Youtube.

youtube

Editor’s Note: ...Anything else?

Then the press releases rolled out and the media was all over it.

Details of full campaign co-op; a customizable protagonist (who also happens to be the sheriff’s deputy); and so much pending controversy plastered the headlines.

Oh yeah, and there has also been some talk about melee combat specific scenarios being worked into the game. New weapons such as baseball bats, sledgehammers and pitchforks will be implemented as part of the series’ inventory.

image credit - 20th Century Fox

Editor’s Note: Wow! That’s an awful lot to tell so soon. What’s left for the E3 showing?

Actually, there’s still plenty to juicy reveal tidbits to share. Like say, an in-depth look at “Eden’s Gate”. We know so much about the heroes, but we haven’t really seen much of anything concerning the big bads, nor do we know the why or how of their hostile takeover.

There’s also the new feature Ubisoft promised to show off during its presser. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say it’s either the campaign’s co-op option or the flight mechanics.

Editor’s Note: Even still, why reveal so much about the game now? Why not leave it all as a major E3 surprise?

My theory, the publisher wants the press to focus its collective energy on whatever new Ubisoft IPs (and or Assassin’s Creed sequel) premier that fateful day, so it’s trying to answer the more common Far Cry questions ASAP. Also, all this Far Cry hype sure makes for a damn fine centerpiece.

...

Editor’s Note: Thoughts on what you’ve seen and read so far?

*Sigh* I guess I should start off by addressing the elephant in the room – the story.

For all of the hullabaloo, it’s nothing new. The town overrun with zealot cultists ranks among the classics of horror tropes, and stories (subtly or not) inspired by political unrest are certainly commonplace, even in the world video games.

Editor’s Note: And they’re only going to get more common over the next, let’s say four years?

While these character archetypes and plot devices may seem a tad (or more) over done, that doesn’t mean they can’t be used to tell a good story. In fact, I trust Ubisoft Montreal to do just that. That’s not to say I didn’t have any reservations or crack a joke or two at first glance, but the deeper the Youtube showings went, the more invested I got.

Hearing the stories of Nick, Mary and Pastor Jerome gave me Goosebumps, and I instantly wanted to know more about what was going on and how they aimed to deal with it.

Editor’s Note: Forget this customizable protagonist nonsense, Ubisoft. Rip-off Rockstar so I can swap between these three heroes!

The villains on the other hand, I have no real opinion of, yet. Sure, Ubi is more than capable of creating the type of sinisterly charismatic baddies this plot calls for (shout out to Vaas and Pagan Min), so I feel “Eden’s Gate” has plenty of potential. However, I can’t judge Seed or his siblings sight unseen.

...Promo images excluded, of course.

Editor’s Note: Speaking of elephants, Far Cry 4 let me wreck shit on elephant back. Surely, Ubisoft can’t just expect me to go back to primitive man power.

I don’t believe the southern United States is an elephant’s natural habitat.

Editor’s Note: i dOn’T bEliEVe tHE SoUtHERn UnITeD StATeS iS aN eLePHaNT’s nAtURal hAbITat.

...

OK, so Montana isn’t normally thought of alongside the exotic locales the series is known for, but the more I’ve thought it over, the more I’ve come to realize it’s the perfect setting for a Far Cry game.

It’s beautiful and serene territory hosts some gorgeous natural splendour...it also has some hidden and very real dangers entrenched deep within its forestry and rocky domains. The ravenous wolves, perilous coyote packs, rabid dogs, wild bulls and massive grizzlies will be just as, if not more formidable than the tigers and honey badgers of previous games.

If you’re luckily enough to be the hunter, as opposed to the hunted, you’ll be able to score some prime cuts of meat for health boosts, and some fine pelts for crafting items.

Of course, there’s also the option to fish for some grub. That could be fun for a bit.

Editor’s Note: As long as it’s SEGA Bass Fishing quality and not Sonic Adventure quality, I’m totally up to do a little fishin’.

Not to mention the prospect of being hunted down by a bunch of gun-toting manics does compliment itself rather terrifyingly well to the whole outdoor survivalist angle, much like the militants and royal guardsmen of entries 1-4.

Yeah, the setting might be a little different and the enemies might be a little different but this is still very much Far Cry, with all the fun DIY M-A-Y-H-E-M that comes with it.

Speaking of what makes Far Cry - Far Cry, let’s talk vehicles. This pitched selection is cool as frig!

Tarring through the countryside in a muscle car or big rig, and the promise of delivering some cathartic death from above sounds absolutely sick!

Editor’s Note: Hopefully, the air battles can match stuff like Ace Combat or Battlefield 1. Now that would be sick.

Anything else...oh, right; campaign co-op. It’s a great idea!

I can’t recall the number of times I played through a mission in Far Cry 4 only to find myself completely surrounded and desperately wishing I had back-up. The ability to call in a buddy should certainly make breaking through those impenetrable compounds at least a little bit more bearable.

Editor’s Note: This all sounds rad...still wish I had my elephant though.

...

I honestly don’t quite know how to cap this off. I guess I could say:

Far Cry 5 has all the potential in the world to be a great action game, as its pedigree can attest. The guns, explosions, fast rides, deadly beasts, and vast destructible set pieces are all on lock. It has all it needs to kick ass and take names. But its creative direction is taking the series into some unknown and fairly risky territory.

There’s certainly plenty of potential in the characters and setting presented, as I’ve said earlier. However, the direction the game seems to be heading could cause a drastic tonal shift that throws the entire thing off kilter. This building sense of horror, sorrow and despair, and to have it all inspired by today’s political climate could put a major damper on the aforementioned ass-kicking and taking of names.

It’s going to be tough and sadly, it might even get a little ugly, but Ubisoft has a rock solid creative team and I do believe they can make these pieces fit into something truly great. At least I hope so.

...

Boy that sure was some dark stuff. Let’s lighten things up next time by battling it out Poké-Style!

#Far Cry 5 #Ubisoft #Xbox One #PS4

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magmasliveblogs · 5 years

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1.21

i am back! my internet is cooperating! this is the 25th chapter i think! to recap: last chapter we learned more about ryoka, the runners guild, and humans in this world! this seems to be another erin chapter based on the name

The inn. A place for questing adventurers, drinking, solace, and even temporary, messy love. Or just lust. In any good tavern you can find at least one mysterious figure in the shadows ready to spout off cryptic messages of doom. No pub worthy of the name wouldn’t have the potential for indiscriminate violence simmering in the air.

Inns attract crowds. Thus, an innkeeper must be constantly busy. It’s a demanding job that often requires more than one barmaid or bartender – barboy being a seldom-used term that only dictionary aficionados employ.

Erin Solstice sat in her inn and waited for the crowds to come pouring through the door. Any second now. She’d be fighting them off with burning oil and kitchen knives. Any moment. They were probably just waiting until nightfall.

erin seems to be a bit too enthusiastic about how much publicity her chess match with olesum got here

Two nights later Erin had to concede that being an innkeeper was harder than it looked. And it looked really hard.

“What good is owning an inn without customers?”

Erin sighed and sat back in her chair. She eyed the gleaming wooden floor and stout wooden door and wondered whether it was worth cleaning them again. But no, she’d dusted and polished every available surface, and she had enough food in the kitchen for a small army. What she didn’t have was money or people willing to spend money.

“Two days.”

Erin put her head in her hands glumly. Two days since she’d painted her sign and named the inn. Two days, and her only customers were the three terrors that plagued her waking nightmares.

Relc, Klbkch, and Pisces. They were all horrible customers. Each one was fine on his own—well, Pisces was annoying no matter what, but as patrons they had extremely objectionable flaws. Even Klbkch.

Especially Klbkch.

It wasn’t that they were annoying, per se, but…no, they were annoying. Erin gritted her teeth. She wished the Goblins would stop by for a change of pace. At least they were clean, quiet, and finished everything on their plate.

Well, Relc always finished everything on his plate. So did the other two, but in Relc’s case he tended to spread the contents of his plate on the table and the floor. How hard was it to use a knife and fork?

And the one who did use a knife and fork never paid for anything. Ever. Erin felt like she was running a soup kitchen every time she fed Pisces.

what did klb do? why is relc such a messy eater? will pisces every actually pay his tab?

As for Klbkch that…that…

“That lying, pasta-eating snake-ant jerk!”

Erin slapped the table. She was especially mad at him. How could he betray her expectations like that?

She’d been happy to feed him pasta all night long. Happy that was, until Pisces and Relc told her that Antinium couldn’t handle bread or pasta that well. They were all naturally gluten-intolerant. Eating pasta was about as fun for Klbkch as poking his tongue with a knife. If he had a tongue.

Pasta wasn’t technically poison for him, but it made Klbkch lethargic and did nasty things to his digestion. Either way, he’d clearly been buying and eating her food just to support her.

The nerve. The gall of that bug. Ants were bugs, right?

When she’d found out about Klbkch’s aversion to pasta she’d gotten into a huge fight with him. Or rather, she’d gotten mad and he’d apologized repeatedly. Ever since then Erin had let him buy blue fruit juice or blue fruits, but no more pasta. The trouble with that was that Erin lost out on one of her major sources of income, as Relc visited every other day and Pisces came by too frequently.

“Another night without customers.”

Erin groaned to herself as she stared at her inn. She mechanically wiped a mug clean with a clean piece of cloth. Not because it was dirty; it just felt like an innkeeper-y thing to do. And she was bored.

hey, its nice that klb is trying to help her, but the lie was a bit bad for him.

“What I wouldn’t give for one customer.”

Two tables over, Pisces looked up from his bowl of onion and sausage soup.

“I am right here, you know.”

Erin glared at him.

“I meant a paying, nice customer.”

erin is sassy today

He sniffed and drank the last dregs from his bowl. The one positive aspect about the mage – if you could call it that – was that he ate like a starving wolverine.

“I believe there is a lovely tradition known as a ‘tab’. Rest assured I will make sufficient payment to you in time, good mistress. Although I must say you could stand to improve the variety of your dishes. Pasta and soup are all very well, but I trust you do know there are other types of food in the world?”

Erin ground her teeth together. She pointed the door.

“Out.”

Pisces stood with offended dignity and brushed off his dirty robe. He offered Erin a bow that was sardonic without being offensive enough for a thumping.

“Your soup was most adequate. However, I would advise you to add more seasonings to combat the bland taste.”

Erin opened her mouth, but he was already halfway out the door. She watched it close and then stop until it was a tiny bit ajar. This time Erin punched the table.

After she’d closed and bolted the new door Klbkch had helped her install, Erin tasted the cold soup and made a face. She stomped over to her shelves and looked for a bag of salt.

Cooking was harder than it looked. And sadly, while Erin could make several dishes thanks to her skill, there wasn’t really any point if no one but Pisces was going to eat it. Today she’d tried out soup, and she had half a pot still sitting in the kitchen. She’d have to wait for Relc to come by tomorrow to finish it all.

Erin sighed and sat down at her table. It was her favorite table, the second one near the bar. It was where she slept. True, she could have used the floor or done something about the second floor, but she was out of money for things like mattresses and pillows. For now, she slept. Her life wasn’t bad. She’d survived Goblins and actually started running a business. She just wished—

She just wished things would start going her way.

lets hope erin gets some good stuff

The next day Erin woke up, she woke up tired. Very tired. And that was strange, because Erin had gotten a good night’s sleep. Or so she’d thought.

As Erin shifted to get up she felt uncomfortable. She looked down at her clothes. She was wearing a variation of a t-shirt and pants she’d custom-ordered from one of the Gnolls that Krshia had introduced her to.

Most Drakes went for an ancient-Greek style toga or robe look and their clothes were long and free-flowing. Some of them wore sarongs, but Erin was pretty sure it was only the females.

On the other hand, Gnolls wore minimal attire, usually just enough to cover their furry parts which weren’t visible in the first place. And while Erin was fine with that look, she wasn’t too keen on wearing just a thong and breast band in public. Hence, her clothes.

The fabric was a rougher, sturdier type of cloth than Erin would have liked, but it wasn’t that uncomfortable. She’d slept in it fine just the other day. So why was it suddenly rubbing against her down…there…?

must have missed krishias name or just forgotten it, because that is her name! also, oh no

Erin looked down and began praying under her breath. She closed her eyes. Did she have to go to the bathroom? No. Nope. Not at all. So then why was she leaking…?

“Oh. My. God. This is not okay!”

The wetness in the crotch of her pants spread even as Erin looked down. She began to swear, even as she jumped up and ran for some clean cloths. It couldn’t be happening. But it was. How had she forgotten?

Her period. She was on her damn period.

Erin went to the shopping bag where she’d neatly stored many of the items she’d bought and began tearing through it, tossing items aside. Towels. She had to have towels somewhere in here.

There. Erin grabbed them and a fresh pair of pants. She walked back into the common room and hesitated. Like hell she was going to change in here. She went upstairs.

As Erin switched her pants and wiped away the mess she wondered what cruel twist of fate had dumped her in this fantasy world – yet still gave her the miracle of life every month.

“I’ve never heard of video game characters dealing with this! How do you expect Lara Croft to climb mountains with a giant frickin’ diaper in her pants? I’d love to see Leia fighting stormtroopers on her cycle!”

Erin slammed downstairs and threw her pants and the bloody towel on the ground. The other one she took to the kitchen and cut in half. Then she shoved it down her pants.

“Rough.”

The towels were not meant for use in the way she was using them. Erin shuddered. This was a nightmare. She had to get relief. And by relief, she meant tampons.

And that was another chilling thought, because Erin was pretty sure tampons never existed in medieval times. But—they had pads, right? Women existed back in the dark ages, even if they were oppressed. And Liscor wasn’t that primitive. So they had to have pads. They had to.

“Please God, if you’re there. Or the Buddha. I’ll pray to anyone. Just please don’t make me wear a diaper.”

She wasn’t even sure if they had diapers. She hadn’t seen many baby Drakes while walking in the city, and they stayed away from the scary human in any case.

Erin went for the door and hesitated. She felt like she was wearing a scratchy diaper, but it couldn’t be helped. She felt at her pocket and then went to her discarded pants and pulled out a very thin coin pouch. She didn’t have much money, but it was probably enough.

Her bloody pants and towel were another issue. Erin stared at them and then kicked them under the table. Then she opened the door and slammed it behind her. Her temper was already bad when she left her inn.

After the forty minutes it took to get to Liscor at quick pace, Erin’s mood had gone from bad to thunderous. The towel in her pants chafed. And her period was heavy. She wanted to kill everything. And that was before she tripped on a rock.

liscor is not ready

Erin marched into Liscor through the western gates. Actually, she stormed through the gates. In actual fact, she practically charged through them.

The Drake on duty, the same yellow one she’d seen several times before opened his mouth to make a comment. Erin snarled at him as she went past. He shut up.

liscor is not ready

Another obstacle got in her way before she got to the market street. Olesm appeared out of nowhere, holding a box in his scaly hands.

“Good day, Miss Solstice. What a coincidence running into you here.”

Erin gritted her teeth. Her abdomen was cramping up. This was a bad one.

“Not now, Olesm.”

He ducked his head, but kept pace with you.

“I understand this might be a bad moment, but I was wondering if you would be free later to play a game of—”

Erin turned her head as she stomped past him. Olesm swallowed the words he’d been about to say. She left him behind and kept moving down the street. Some Gnolls snarled at her when she walked in front of them. This time she snarled back.

olesm was not ready!

“Pads.”

Krshia looked up from her pile of copper and silver coins.

“Yes, Erin Solstice?”

Erin took a deep breath. She couldn’t get mad. Not now, when her goal was so close.

“Pads. I want to buy pads. Or tampons, if you guys actually have those.”

The Gnoll shopkeeper was sitting down, but her head was almost higher than Erin’s. She blinked at Erin.

“What are these pads you speak of? Are they bandages?”

Erin’s blood froze. She felt the earth beneath her begin to open, and choir of undead hands reaching up to pull her into the fiery pits of hell.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Bits of fur flew into the air as Krshia shook her head.

“Apologies. It is shedding season. Why are you so concerned, Erin Solstice?”

Erin leaned forwards and whispered loudly to Krshia.

“I’m bleeding. I need pads. Cloth pads, now.”

“Bleeding? Where?”

Maybe the Gnoll really was messing with her, or she didn’t have the same sense of public decency Erin did. Either way, Erin leaned forwards and whispered the location in Krshia’s ear.

The Gnoll shrugged.

“Is it not fine?”

Erin gaped at her. Krshia scratched the fur around her neck looking unconcerned.

“It is only liquid, yes? And all who smell you will know either way. Why waste good cloth?”

Erin stared at her. Krshia stopped scratching.

“What?”

“Are you messing with me? Because if you are, I’m not in the mood for it.”

“I would not tease a young one like you when you stink of sweat and blood.”

Krshia looked mildly offended. Erin rubbed at her eyes and crossed her legs.

“Sorry. It’s just—you can smell that? Seriously? No, don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know. Don’t Gnolls have periods too?”

The Gnoll in question tilted her head slightly and make a confused face.

“Periods?”

“The menstrual cycle. You know, that time of the month when you donate blood. When Aunt Flo comes to town. Shark week. The Crimson Tide. Parting the Red Sea!”

Krshia blinked at her. Erin felt her voice growing louder.

“You know! Riding the cotton pony! It’s that thing ladies have! The waterfalls of hell! The blood baptism! The get-out-of-swim-class card! The proof of womanhood! The part of the month where blood comes out of your—”

it seems drakes and gnolls do not experience periods. do they go through heat?

Erin squatted on the ground, head buried in her arms. The other shoppers stared at her. The shopkeepers stared at her. Half of them looked sympathetic. The other half looked disgusted. The children were torn between impressed and horrified.

A heavy, furry hand patted Erin on the shoulder.

“Humans have very strange bodies, yes?”

“…Yes.”

She really hadn’t meant to shout.

“I really didn’t mean to shout.”

“It is nothing.”

Krshia flicked her fingers dismissively.

“Shouting is good. Almost as good as howling, but we are forbidden to do that unless it is a full moon. But I am sorry. Gnolls do not have your periods, nor do we let our blood each month.”

“So you don’t have anything like that?”

The Gnoll paused. She tapped her lips with one finger and nodded.

“The blood. It is for mating, yes? We do have a similar time. All those who still are able to bear children, we go into a heat. It is called estrus, but it happens only once or twice a year. It is the time when we mate.”

Erin looked up at her.

“Does it hurt?”

Krshia scratched one ear and shook her head. More fur flew into the air.

“It is enjoyable. Some look forwards to it. It is a time to have sex and to bear children and and so we are happy when it comes to us.”

Erin pointed a shaking finger at Krshia.

“I hate you so much right now I can’t even explain.”

The Gnoll grinned at her, but without any malice.

“I am sorry for your plight. But I have no smooth cloths. But I do have these. These are wool; not finely woven, but strong. Would you like a few?”

Erin looked at the rough fabric offered to her and shuddered.

“Do you have any idea—no. Just please, please tell me there’s someone who sells what I need in the city.”

Again, Krshia scratched her head. Erin wondered if she had fleas.

“Hm. No.”

“No?”

“We Gnolls need no padding. And the Drake folk and Antinium, they need none either. Humans are rare here, so I would not think any padding you wish for exists in any store.”

The blood drained from Erin’s face. She stared open-mouthed at the shopkeeper, who looked concerned at her expression.

“Is it so bad?”

“I—I’m going to die.”

“Not from so little blood, I think. But I have a thought.”

Erin latched onto the ray of hope instantly.

“Yes? Tell me. What’s your thought?”

“The Adventurer’s Guild. They have bandages. Many bandages. If you cannot stop this blood, they would be able to help more than I. And bandages are soft, yes?”

“Yes—yes they are.”

Erin was on her feet in an instant. She waddled away from the Gnoll and then stopped.

“Thanks. I uh, gotta go. See you later.”

Bemused, the Gnoll watched Erin walk awkwardly out of sight. She looked at a female Drake who was passing by her shop. She bared her teeth in a grin.

“Humans, eh?”

yes lets go freak out some random drake

The cool wood counter of the reception desk in the Adventurer’s Guild felt good on Erin’s head. She rested her head there and wished she didn’t have to deal with the world.

“So you really have blood coming from down there? And it happens every month?”

“Yes.”

“That’s so weird.”

Erin groaned. She looked up at Selys, the helpful receptionist. She’d been grateful to find the female Drake was working today, but she really, really couldn’t deal with her innocent curiosity.

“I know. Everyone keeps telling me that. But please, do you have bandages? Thin, softfabric?”

Selys nodded and pulled a drawer out. She fished out a roll of thin, white fabric and showed it to Erin.

“We’ve got lots, just in case there’s an emergency. How much do you need?”

“Lots.”

Erin said it glumly as she fished out her meager ration of coins. She tried to calculate how many rolls of bandages she’d need, and how she’d turn them into a pad. She needed to buy food—but this was more important.

“I’m going to need enough for a week, maybe. And I need to use the bandages to make a pad. You know, to cover the area. And I change pads every few hours sometimes, so…”

Drakes didn’t have eyebrows, so Selys couldn’t raise them. But she widened her eyes and flicked her long tongue out.

“That’s expensive. Sorry Erin, but I’m not sure you’ll have enough money for that. Bandages are cheap, but you’ll be using a lot.”

“Tell me about it. On bad days back home I used to use a ton of pads each day before I switched to tampons. And let me tell you, that was a psychological shift as well.”

Selys looked blank. Erin waved her hand. She wasn’t about to open that can of worms.

“Well, back on the topic of pads…why not make one that you can re-use more than once?”

Erin looked up at Selys.

“What?”

“Well, doesn’t that make sense? If you’re going to make these pads dirty, why not rewash them rather than keep throwing them away.”

As she opened her mouth to reply Erin’s brain froze. She tried to think of a response but she didn’t have any good one.

“Um. Uh, that’s—that’s actually a good idea. I heard they did that in developing countries but—okay. Okay, yeah. It’s gross, but yeah. How would I get one of those made?”

Selys smiled at Erin. There were still too many pointy teeth in the smile, but Erin was getting used to it.

“I’ve stitched up more than a few adventurers right here. I can make a few of these pads quite quickly if you want me to. I’ve got the skill [Fast Stitching] so it won’t take more than a few minutes.”

Erin leaned across the counter and seized Selys by the clawed hand. The receptionist blinked at her in surprise.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It’s nothing. Really. I’ll start on this pad right away. How should it look?”

“Um. Sort of like this.”

Erin showed Selys as the other Drake hmmed and began layering the cloth bandage together. They’d just finished the basic design and Erin had opened her coin pouch when she her a familiar growl from behind her.

gnoll you do not know what your messing with

Selys gulped, but Erin scowled. She turned around and looked up into the face of an irritated male Gnoll.

“Human. You still stink.”

“I’m not talking to you. Go away.”

He blinked at her, but Erin was already turning back to Selys. She felt a rough hand spin her around and nearly dropped her money. She narrowed her eyes up at the Gnoll.

“You stink of blood. I warned you last time – leave this place now.”

Erin felt her teeth grinding together. She clenched her jaw and looked up at the Gnoll. He was big and scary, but she was also pretty sure he wasn’t allowed to hit her. And even if he was, she was in a really bad mood. Unbidden, the thought occurred to her that she’d never figured out what [Tavern Brawling] actually did.

“Do I look like I’m in the mood to be bullied?”

The male Gnoll growled at her. Erin stared at him. She didn’t blink. She was really cramping up down below now, and the trickling sensation was not making anything better.

Her gaze locked with the Gnoll’s for a solid minute. He was looming over her, doing the classic male intimidation move. She was too angry and sore to care.

After another minute the Gnoll’s ears suddenly flattened for a second. He whirled, and walked away. Erin flipped him off with one hand and then turned back to Selys.

“Sorry. Where were we?”

The female Drake was staring at Erin with open mouth. Erin stared back at her and then flashed a smile.

“Bully me once, shame on you. Bully me twice—I get mean. And violent.”

erin has established dominance

“I can see that. But I would have known it anyways. Terbore might growl at you, but we all heard about how you killed that Goblin Chieftain by yourself. That was some story.”

Erin’s smile slipped for a fraction of a second.

“Oh. Someone told you about that?”

“Oh yes.”

Selsys nodded as she began stitching the bandages together with needle and thread. The fingers that held the long needle flashed back and forth across the fabric at mesmerizing speed.

“Klbkch had to turn in the Goblin Chieftain’s head here. We all heard about how you killed it. That’s amazing, by the way—Klb says you don’t even have any levels in a fighting class. How’d you do it?”

“Um. I burned his face off.”

“Oh, are you a [Mage] then? I saw a Human one in town the other day, but apparently he’s a troublemaker and a thief.”

“No, no. I’m no mage. It’s just—I used a trick. And I nearly died. I bet Klbkch didn’t mention that.”

“He said you were wounded. Was it bad?”

“Very. He gave me a healing potion. Without that I would have been a goner.”

Her hands paused in stitching as Selys stared at Erin.

“He gave you a healing potion? But that’s expensive. You must have been badly injured if Klbkch gave you his potion.”

Erin shifted nervously.

“Are they—are they expensive? Those potions, I mean.”

“Very.”

Selys nodded. She named the price and it was Erin’s turn to do the gaping.

“Well, it’s important that the Watch carries them in case someone gets hurt. They’re not supposed to use them unless someone’s really hurt, though. And the potions the Senior Guardsmen carry are even stronger. They can heal most big injuries in a moment. Unless you lose an arm or a body part, you’ll be fine in moments.”

“Yeah. They are good.”

Erin poked at her stomach reflexively. She sighed. Another mark on her debt to Klbkch.

“I’m just glad it was only a Goblin Chieftain. If the rest of the Goblins had come after me, I would have been dead.”

“Oh, if it had been a Goblin Raiding Party we’d have sent out the entire Watch to deal with them. I just don’t understand why a Chieftain would come after you. It doesn’t make sense.”

Erin blinked.

“A Goblin what now?”

“A Goblin Raiding Party. Haven’t you heard of them?”

“Uh. No…no I have not. We don’t have many Goblins where I come from.”

Selys sighed enviously as she finished the first pad and slid it over to Erin. The other girl felt at the soft fabric and smiled happily.

“You’re lucky. Goblins are a real problem around here. I mean, sure, the lone Goblin isn’t that dangerous. They’re only deadly in packs. That’s why we send out Senior Guardsman and post bounties on Goblins to keep their numbers down.”

“So you guys kill Goblins all the time? What about Chieftains? Do you sent adventurers after those guys?”

Erin didn’t know how she felt about that. Bad. But her sympathy only extended to the small Goblins, not the vicious, sadistic big ones.

“Chieftains? No, no. They’re far too dangerous to send most adventurers after.”

Selys shuddered.

“Why not?”

“It’s not that they’re stronger than the Watch. Relc, Klbkch, even some of the regular Watch are probably better fighters than Chieftains. It’s just that they’re—tough. And strong. And when they call their tribe well, the average group of adventurers would get wiped out against that mob.”

“So you’re not sending adventurers out against a raiding party either, then?”

“Gods no. If we hear about one of those we form a hunting party and try to get rid of it right away. A raiding party can wipe out a village in an hour if we don’t get to it in time.”

“Nasty.”

“It is. Here’s another pad.”

“Thanks. Sorry I can’t pay you more—it’s just that I don’t have much money from this innkeeping thing.”

Selys waved her needle at Erin.

“Don’t apologize. I’m happy to help. But I’m afraid I could have warned you that innkeeping in that old inn isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, what level are you? Ten? Twenty?”

“Nine.”

“See, that’s not too good. If you were in the city I’d say you should get apprenticed to another innkeeper until you’re at least Level 15. It might take a year or two, but then you’d have a few good skills to run your inn with. And I wouldn’t have an inn that far away from the city to begin with.”

“Yeah. No one comes by. Is it because I’m human? Or is it too far to walk?”

Another pad finished, Selys picked up the roll of bandages and cut off more for the last pad. She lined the backing with a stiffer cloth and then sewed layers of the soft bandage on top.

“Both, I’d say. It’s dangerous to come out that far—well, not too dangerous but it’s a bit of a deterrent. Your being Human isn’t bad, but…”

“But…?”

“Well, I’ve heard Relc talking in bars. He says you make pasta. Is…is that all you sell?”

“Um. Yeah. I can make other things. I’ve got [Basic Cooking], but—what’s wrong?”

Selys was shaking her head as she sewed. Erin was envious of her speed, and also her scaled hands. Whenever the Drake missed her cloth or stabbed one of her fingers, the needle hit her scales rather than soft, vulnerable flesh.

“I don’t want to be rude Erin, but that’s not too impressive. All cooks and chefs have [Basic Cooking] as a skill. Some even have [Advanced Cooking].”

“Oh. And uh, I guess pasta isn’t that interesting.”

“You could make other things, but there are a lot of good inns in the city. And we get recipes from the Human cities up north all the time. Even if you sold a new dish, someone would copy it the next night.”

Erin’s face fell. Selys looked unhappy, but went on.

“Anyways, no one will make the journey if all you’re selling is pasta. I’m sorry.”

Erin groaned as she thumped her head back against the counter. That helped explain her lack of business. Her regular clients might not mind eating the same dishes, but everyone else would. She guessed she should be grateful for her regulars, thinking of it that way.

Relc would probably eat anything he could swallow. Pisces would eat anything he could steal, and Klbkch would eat anything she put in front of him. The Goblins were probably pickier eaters than her clientele.

The last pad done, Selys slid it over to Erin. The young woman gratefully accepted them and felt them carefully. They were thick, but not so much that they’d be uncomfortable wearing. More importantly, they were made of strong materials and she was sure she’d be able to wash and use them again.

“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you so much.”

The Drake smiled at her. Erin smiled back.

“Don’t mention it. And good luck with your innkeeping. I’m sorry I had to say it like that but—”

“No, you’re right. I’ll…do some thinking about it. But right now—”

Erin was edging away from the counter.

“Uh, where’s your bathroom?”

yay lore!

The new pad Erin was wearing did not chafe like the towel. Which was exceptionally fortunate, because her skin was raw and still sore. It made the walk back to her inn less fun than normally, but at least the crisis was averted.

“Just in time for a new crisis.”

Erin grumbled to herself as she felt at her pocket to make sure the precious pads were still there. She had to think about business. The trouble was, she’d never run a business or even worked in any job aside from a part-time library assistant and helper in chess tournaments. She had no idea what to do.

“I’ll think about tomorrow.”

Erin muttered to herself as she opened her door. It was just past midday, but she felt exhausted. She hated periods. Why couldn’t they have disappeared along with her world? Maybe there was a skill to get rid of them. [No Period Pain] or [Bloodless Flow] or something like that—

As she opened the door to her inn Erin stopped in her tracks. Her inn was empty. But something was moving underneath the table. Something glowing…

In her haste to leave, Erin had kicked her bloody towel and pants in a heap. And one of the windows must have been open a crack, because it had attracted guests.

A swarm of glowing green acid flies crawled over the dirty cloths. They rubbed their bodies all over the cloths, the table leg, the floor…

Parts of the wood were smoking and glistening with the acid fly’s toxic juices. Erin could see pitted holes in the floorboards. She stared in horror at the green dots shifting all over her clothes.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

these flies will not survive this summer

thats the end of the chapter! will this days actions have consequences? will the acid fly population survive this year?

see you next post

#chrono

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