IBUKI-DOUJI

Class: Saber
True Name: Ibuki-douji
Gender: Female
Source: "Shuten-douji emaki", Otogizoushi​ and the like
Region: Japan
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Height: First ascension: 133cm (total length 200cm) / Second and Third ascensions: 180cm (300 cm during combat)
Weight: ??kg
Strength: A+
Endurance: C
Agility: C
Mana: EX
Luck: D
Noble Phantasm: A+
Scenario Writer: Sakurai Hikaru/Character Design: Honjou Raita CV: Yuuki Aoi
Main Appearance: Fate/Grand Order

CLASS SKILLS

○Magic Resistance A She possesses Magic Resistance of the highest rank. In fact, she can not be harmed by Mages of the present age.   ○Riding B+ She can ride most vehicles and mounts. She's not supposed to be able to ride those of the Phantasmal Species, but, as an exceptional case, she is able to ride one if she can get along with them.   ○Dragon-kind EX A skill indicating that one is a born dragon. Ibuki-douji who is endowed with the Saint Graph that strongly expresses her facet as the child of Yamata-no-Orochi, possesses the skill at an out-of-the-norm rank.   ○Divine Core of the Serpent God A A composite skill containing the Divinity skill. Since, according to the legends, she is of mixed-blood with one of her parents being a human, it should be difficult for her to possess a Divine Core, however...having come into existence as the child (bunrei) of Yamata-no-Orochi, Ibuki-douji possesses this skill at a high rank as an exceptional case. If she were to degrade into an oni, she would lose this skill and it would probably be replaced by low-rank Divinity skill.

PERSONAL SKILLS

○Strength of Mountains and Rivers A+ A composite skill containing the effects of the Superhuman Strength skill. Ibuki-douji possesses this skill at a high rank.   ○Eight Veins of Surging Waves B A skill gained from inheriting the nature of Yamata-no-Orochi as the god of floods, which is one of its aspects as a god. Her immutable body filled with intense aggression will destroy everything.   ○Fingertips of Impurity A Purity will be lost, honor will be absent and, finally, death shall arrive. Those touched by Ibuki-douji's fingertips are unclean, and are not allowed to show themselves before the gods or humans. It is classified as an offensive skill, but it also grants bonus effects when conversing with spirits of the dead, demonic beasts, or fallen gods outside combat.

NOBLE PHANTASM

Divine Sword - Kusanagi-no-Tachi   Rank: A+ Classification: Anti-Army/Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm Range: 1~60 Max. number of targets: 500   Shinken - Kusanagi-no-Tachi. According to the Susanoo myths from the Kojiki and Nihon-shoki, Susanoo-no-Mikoto, having been exiled from Takamagahara, descended upon the province of Izumo and saved Kusanadahime by exterminating the enormous monster she was offered to as a sacrifice. That monster was a red-eyed apparition with eight heads and eight tails───a gigantic snake that boasted a length spanning eight valleys and eight peaks. It was Japan's greatest dragon of calamity.   Having defeated this large serpent (dragon), Susanoo-no-Mikoto obtained a divine sword from its tail. The sword's name was Kusanagi-no-Tachi. It was also known as Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, Ama-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi, and Tsumugari-no-Tachi. They say it was later offered to the Atsuta Shrine and was designated as one of the Three Sacred Treasures of Japan.   This divine sword that was within her father, Yamato-no-Orochi's body is what Ibuki-douji uses as a Noble Phantasm. It is such a fearsome weapon that a single swing from it upon the release of its True Name can blow away eight valleys and eight peaks, and give birth to eight great rivers...however. According to Ibuki-douji, this is nothing but her borrowing the slightest of the divine sword's gleams for just a moment. Its true worth does not amount to something of this level, is what she means.

CHARACTER

First person pronoun: yo/atashi/watashi/ware (sometimes) Second person pronoun: omae/anata/○○ (without honorifics)/○○-kun/○○-chan Third person pronoun: ayatsu/he/she/○○ (without honorifics)/○○-kun/○○-chan
○Personality Her temperament as a "god/kami" is quite potent with her self-awareness of being a part of nature (the world) being very firm. She acts based on primitive desires. She has almost no inclination to come into contact with humans and their culture/civilization at all. She behaves as if she is unaware of the depths of alcohol, the delicacy of human lives, and the pleasure of indulging in a moment of insanity, however... Once she immerses herself in desires, she will show no mercy. Without any stimulus, she is harmless, however, in a certain sense, one could say that she is even more dangerous than Shuten-douji.   Once someone manages to pique her interest, she will be strongly fixated on them. While the target of her interest exists, her eyes will always be fixed on them. Usually, she'd stretch her long fingers towards them, touch them, and destroy them completely───or, she would corrupt them and guide them to their death.   The oni species that her other aspect also belongs to can easily pique her interest. Naturally, existences similar to her (children of a dragon god) would also make her eyes sparkle.   ◇   ...The above is the original Ibuki-douji's nature, but the circumstances of the one that materialized in Chaldea are somewhat different.   She's totally Being influenced By the modern age.   Even if she can't look at things from the same standpoint as a human being due to her origin being that of a god, her words and conduct are that of "a big sister Heroic Spirit/Divine Spirit who's gotten way too used to modern society". Her behavior shows that she's studied what human beings could be like.   She even goes around trying to seduce and provoke others, including the Master. The Heroic Spirit Sherlock Holmes speculates that Ibuki-douji had either learned about modern society somewhere, or she met a Heroic Spirit who also got accustomed to modern society in a similar way, and then forcibly brought over those records by taking advantage of the uniqueness of Chaldea's summoning system. Nobody knows whether that is true or not, however.   When she gets serious, for example when releasing her Noble Phantasm's True Name, she seems to regress to behaving according to her original nature which is that of a "god/kami", but usually, she's enjoying herself as the carefree "snake big sis".   ◇   Also, when she's in her juvenile form (the Saint Graph of her first stage), she displays speech and conduct that is like a mix of "snake big sis Ibuki" and "Ibuki, the god/kami". When little Ibuki says that things will get dangerous if she molts, she is most probably referring to becoming "Ibuki, the god/kami".
○Motives and attitude towards the Master Normally, Ibuki-douji doesn't give much special attention to the Master that summons her. It's probably because her awareness of humans is too abnormal, what with viewing them as a collective whole instead of as separate individuals. If she became able to view them as individuals, her behavior towards them would also gradually change. If she ever grows interested in you, you must stay vigilant instead of rejoicing about that accomplishment. Her fingertips are that of a god, so even defensive magecraft against poisoning or poison resistance skills would be far from enough to protect you.   However... The Ibuki-douji that materialized in Chaldea behaves in an intimate way towards the Master. Strictly speaking, she behaves in a friendly manner with everyone. For her to properly recognize the Master as an individual, they would need to build a relationship that is deep enough for that. In that sense, as expected, one must make sure whether the normal Ibuki-douji's nature stems from her roots or not.   ◇   Completely different from her usual version, there are times when Ibuki-douji is seriously viewing her Master as "someone to be raised" in her juvenile form. It's as if she's treating her Master as a pet... It seems like she's never kept a pet before.
○During Hell Realm Mandala Heian-kyou She is manifested by Alter Ego Limbo aka Ashiya Douman as "Taisuishin", the last of his trump card known as the Eight Cavalry Summoning that he modeled after the Eight General Gods in Taoism. (However, finding her rank as a General God and the immortality that comes with it unnecessary, Ibuki-douji discards them. Since she's already a powerful Divine Spirit, the buffs Limbo prepared are surely nothing but annoyances to her.) For a time, she is treated as the vessel of a "new 'Alien God' and Beast", but due to Limbo's sudden change of mind, she is absorbed by the Subspecies Fantasy Tree Hell Realm Mandala. However, in truth, she was alive and well inside the Fantasy Tree─── By lending her Noble Phantasm, Divine Sword - Kusanagi-no-Tachi to the Kintoki piloting the Settsu-Style Great Armour Kumano, she played a role in the destruction of the Subspecies Fantasy Tree.
○Dialogue examples (Second and Third ascensions) "───You've called for me. Just kidding. No need to freeze up like that. I see, so this is Chaldea. Hmm, it looks interesting. I'll be in your care from now on, Master-san!" "Offerings are not popular these days, you know?" "I'm in the mood for a drink..." "I-I won't strip yet, you know? I finally got to pick a modern outfit for myself and all...Ah. Or what? Did you mean you want to u-n-d-r-e-s-s little old me? Ahaha. I see~" "Good night. Have a pleasant dream."
○Dialogue examples (First Ascension) "Shall we play? Hey, hey?" "Are you, forgetting your place?" "A tsuchinoko grows by sleeping, you know? I'm gonna sleep." "Let me play a bit longer, good grief..." "───I am Ibuki-douji. Are you what they call a Master? I see, I see, so that's what you are... Alright. If you don't want to die then you better butter me up."
○Dialogue examples (Offshoot Mitama of the Serpent God) "The mundane world and the world of the dead..." "Look up to me like you'd look up at a god. Kiss me like you'd kiss a god." "I am one of Yamata's offshoot mitama (heads). A calamity that descended from the mountains───" "To put it in a way that would be easy for you to understand, let's see... I am a calamity to all you living beings."
○Character image Ibuki-douji. The alternate name of "Shuten-douji" who was from the base of Oumi's Mount Ibuki. Ibuki-douji, with her naturally inconceivable birth of having come into this world as a demon child, grew up in the mountains and eventually obtained fearsome and abnormal abilities. She moved to Mount Ooe where she became "Shuten-douji", the great monstrosity who descended on the capital and entertained herself with massacres and pillaging────   ◇   Some say she is the child of Mount Ibuki's Ibuki Daimyoujin (= Yamata-no-Orochi) and a human while others say she is the heaven-sent child of Mount Togakushi (= Kuzuryuu).^[1] Either way, she is the child of a dragon deity. With her current Saint Graph, her aspects as "the bunrei of Ibuki Daimyoujin, the child of Yamata-no-Orochi" are particularly emphasized and she has materialized as a Divine Spirit Servant. She isn't a human. She isn't an oni. She is a god.   In the end, was she really a supernatural being born as a demonic child like the legends of Oumi say? Or perhaps she was the divine child of Mount Togakushi? Or maybe, much like how spirits come into being, she might have been born in yet another way──── Regarding this matter, Ibuki-douji's lips are sealed. However, the blood of a god certainly flows in her veins, and the blade she wields as her Noble Phantasm is without a doubt the one that was pulled out of Yamata-no-Orochi's tail in those ancient legends.   ◇   It seems Ibuki-douji in her juvenile form had met Sakata Kintoki on Mount Ashigara. Kintoki, the monstrous child who was neither the spawn of a mortal nor the spawn of the oni, met her while wandering Ashigara, fought each other in a sumo brawl for some reason, and suffered a crushing defeat.   After that encounter, Ibuki-douji will disappear. She hasn't died by any means; she lived on, having transformed into a different existence, a different aspect of herself. In other words, she became the great monstrosity "Shuten-douji" in both mind and body.   By connecting the testimonies together, it would appear that Ibuki-douji and Shuten-douji existed by alternating with each other at either fixed or uncertain intervals. "It's my (Ibuki's) turn now." "Next, it will be my (Shuten's) turn." Or so the order went────
○Connection to other Characters Shuten-douji They can not accurately recognize each other's existence. To Ibuki-douji, she is nothing more than "something she does not understand well". The same goes for Ibuki-douji from Shuten-douji's point of view. They don't even try to recognize the other as a version that could possibly exist. Ibuki-douji is not "Shuten-douji's former self" and Shuten-douji is not "Ibuki-douji's new self".
Mochizuki Chiyome An object of interest. If she harbors the curse of Ibuki Daimyoujin within her body then they are like relatives. (Ibuki treats her as a younger sister in her first ascension and as a relative's child in her second and third ascensions)
Quetzalcoatl / Medusa / Gorgon / Vritra / Kukulkan A serpent god from a foreign country.
Sakata Kintoki Smells good. Has a nice eye color. Has nice bones. Very interesting. She can feel the presence of a dragon.
Ibaraki-douji / Fuuma Koutarou / Tomoe Gozen / Kijo Koyou Oni. Oni can be often seen in the mountains. Very interesting.
Minamoto no Raikou An oni that is one yet not. Instead of interesting, she finds her suspicious. "Just what is that?" is her impression of Raikou.
Habetrot A mass of cuteness. They've been getting along since they traveled in Tunguska together.

Comment from Illustrator

First, I started with the image of "a tanned dragon lady" and when I suggested that it would be fun if she was around 3 meters tall at the meeting with TYPE-MOON-san, they gave me the OK right away. I wanted her forms to differ with each ascension so I drew the first ascension to give off the impression of being her juvenile form and her second and third ascensions to be the adult form. In particular, I designed the second ascension with the image of "a 3 meters tall big sis strolling through the shopping district downtown to look for snacks to eat while drinking". Also known as "the Calamity Lady of Downtown (Disaster Woman)"; having such a motif of her in my mind, I kept working on the design. An alcohol-loving and somewhat sloppy god of calamity is cute. (Honjou Raita)
Translator notes: [1] Kuzuryuu

https://minimalfreaks.co/2024/05/in-the-remix-2024-tech-house/

1. Gino Da Koda – Baby I Need You (Alessio Bianchi Remix) 06:06 127bpm 7B
2. Fast Eddie, Andre Zimmer – Yo Yo Get Funky (Andre Zimmer Extended Remix) 04:47 128bpm 3A
3. Luis Blanc, Joti Dj – Ladies (Armandos Remix) 06:28 131bpm 11A
4. Tomas Bisquierra – Smashing Swing (Gustaff Remix) 05:20 129bpm 4A
5. Charles Pierre – Moonlight To Sunrise (Rob Stillekens Remix) 06:02 130bpm 5A
6. SONO (COL) – Black Mamba (Jonathan Jaramillo Remix) 05:33 129bpm 9B
7. DJ Hern – Wishing on a star (Chamacos Remix) 05:11 128bpm 11A
8. Baum – Sinnerman (Bastian Bux Remix) 06:20 130bpm 10A
9. Sirus Hood, Trangaz – Boothy (Manda Moor Spicy Remix) 05:55 129bpm 3B
10. JB Martinz – Hot Baby (Copasetic Remix) 06:02 128bpm 7A
11. FLOWFAT – Trevas (Gabss Remix) 05:10 130bpm 10A
12. Ernesto Carrera (VE) – Michele (Victor Guedez Remix) 05:36 126bpm 11B
13. Javi Colina – Bien Buena (Julian Collazos Remix) 05:00 128bpm 3A
14. Oceanvs Orientalis – Neurality (Nick Curly Remix) 06:26 126bpm 8B
15. Gianni Ruocco, Techouzer – Basement (MoonDark Remix) 06:24 130bpm 8A
16. Tate Flowers – Fly (N-Telekia Remix) 06:06 127bpm 7A
17. Angel Heredia – DOWN OK (Manu Fuentes Remix) 06:01 128bpm 11A
18. Jean Pierre, Ambrxse – I Wanna Know (Zamoras Drums Remix) 05:47 130bpm 5A
19. Symon, Usai – Lento Violento (Teko Remix) 05:28 130bpm 8A
20. Jamie Jones, AMEME – Pliva (Honeyluv Remix, Extended Version) 06:41 125bpm 7B

I'm among the growing ranks of Scars fans who loved the glow-up they got in the Horus Heresy. I also love reading excerpts here, and appreciate what a cool guy Fulgrim was. So I thought I'd try my hand at analysing something that's in moderate contention: Fulgrim and Jaghatai's insults to each other.
To sum up: At the Ullanor celebration, while discussing Horus' ascension and who would win in a fight, sharp words are exchanged between Fulgrim and Jaghatai. Jaghatai's harshest insult is that Fulgrim "does strange things to his warriors". A burn which either makes you chuckle, or makes you stop and go "Wow, did you just make fun of your brother's space cancer?"
There's been some back and forth discussion on how they come across. I, however, will be trying to look at the whole scene to get a clearer picture. Though I will admit, I am a White Scars fan, so take my words with a grain of salt!
tl;dr: The criticisms of both Primarchs are accurate, but not the whole picture. My personal take: it was less about space cancer and more about his Legion culture.

Sanguinius leaned back in his throne, dangling a golden goblet casually in one hand. ‘They place wagers on which one of us would win in single combat. There are odds. I have seen them.’
Mortarion snorted. Fulgrim, the fourth of the gathering, laughed.
‘That has been settled, has it not? Our brother Horus wins them all.’
Fulgrim and the Angel looked similar in some ways. They had the same sculptural faces, the same flamboyant armour. Where Sanguinius looked as though he had been born wearing gold-rimmed pauldrons, though, the Khan had always thought Fulgrim looked to be trying a little too hard. In the end, he guessed that Sanguinius would have been happy to cast off his trappings; Fulgrim gave the impression that he would rather die.

So, here we have the opening discussion. Right off the bat, Fulgrim immediately says "Horus wins", though I think it's less from humility and more that he has such a glowing opinion of his big brother who helped take him under his wing for a time.
We also have Jaghatai's POV, and it's important to note: These are events being remembered by him. He may be observant and detached, but there's no denying that they're his opinions.
So what do we start with? That Jaghatai thinks Fulgrim is vain. We, the reader, know the bigger picture of why he's vain, but that's what it comes down to.

‘That would seem to be our father’s view,’ said Sanguinius. ‘It won’t stop the common man making wagers.’
Mortarion shook his pale head, and the tubes running from his archaic rebreather jangled against one another. ‘Stupid.’
Fulgrim gave him an amused look. ‘Oh? Why is that?’
‘Because we were made for different fights,’ growled the Death Lord. His filtered voice never seemed to shift from a sullen register. ‘Come to Barbarus, peacock, and see how long your feathers last in the smog.’
Fulgrim’s silver eyebrows rose. ‘Perhaps I might, brother.’
‘I would not recommend it,’ said Sanguinius. ‘I have seen those chem-clouds. I suspect he would stand them longer than you, Fulgrim.’
‘Some of us had it easier than others,’ Mortarion muttered.
Fulgrim looked archly at Sanguinius. An awkward silence fell.

Here we have some of Fulgrim's responses. Mortarion brings up the "bad matchup" point, and Fulgrim's response to Morty's smacktalk is "sure, I'll 1v1 you, bro".
I'm sure that if this was a Fulgrim scene, we'd get his inner voice to flesh him out, rather than going with simply what Jaghatai sees. But I'll do my best to see how far his actions take us.
Fulgrim, from the narrative, is amused. He smiles archly, which after a quick Google check, means "in an amused way that suggests you know more about something than someone else does". Whether by the discussion or simply Mortarion giving an opinion, we don't know. But taking the scene for what it is, he's being dismissive of his brother yet is quick to accept a duel. This, to me, does not feel like the silence of someone who banters in jest and then lets it go. It feels like someone rising to a challenge to prove himself.
I will, however, bring something up in Fulgrim's defence: He is not being smugly amused purely out of ego. A very valid point to bring up is this: Fulgrim and Sanguinius both came from toxic hellplanets as well. It's easy to read this as "oh, he's smugly arrogant towards someone he sees as lesser", but I think, giving him the benefit of the doubt, there's a very real chance he was just being aware that Mortarion didn't know who he was talking to.
Jaghatai, though, doesn't give this any acknowledgement. Indeed, it's a common flaw of his: His isolation is equally of his own doing, and that means he knows his brothers as little as they know him, even if he's very observant.

‘You should not regret that,’ said the Khan. The other three turned, as if surprised that he had a voice. ‘The hardship.’
Mortarion glared at him sourly. His pallid flesh almost matched Ullanor’s overcast, humid skies. ‘I don’t regret it,’ he said. ‘I could regret that only some of us gained our father’s favour, though. I could regret that.’
Sanguinius took a sip of wine from his glass, serenely unconcerned. ‘Brother, you should be pleased for Horus.’
‘Why?’ Mortarion’s expression was pinched. ‘Because he was found first? Had the longest to work with his Legion? If it had been you on Cthonia, if it had been me, we might have been in his place, now.’
Fulgrim sniffed. ‘Speak for yourself. Being Warmaster is not the only accolade.’
Sanguinius laughed. ‘No more talk of your palatine aquila, brother. You will only make him more jealous.’
‘I’m not jealous – not of Horus, nor of you,’ scowled Mortarion, missing the humour in Sanguinius’s voice. ‘You don’t understand the problem.’
Fulgrim leaned forward, clasping his long hands together. ‘Which is?’
‘While He was leading us,’ said Mortarion, ‘we fought to gain even a glance or gesture from Him. That was acceptable, for none of us are His rival. Nothing in the galaxy is His rival. Now we will fight to gain a glance from Horus, but Horus is not the architect of this. He is just one of us. It will lead to trouble.’
Fulgrim shot a tolerant glance at Sanguinius. ‘He is jealous.’
The Khan shook his head. Fulgrim could be irritatingly stupid. ‘No, he speaks the truth. It should never have happened.’

Now we have the cracks beginning to show. The Khan throws an unexpected olive branch (in fact, more than Fulgrim's done in this moment), and Mortarion raises the point that with Big Daddy E going to the Webway Store for some milk, Big Bro-rus is in charge. But that'll only inflame rivalries and lead to conflict, because not all of them see him as THE GOAT like their dad was. I do think it's interesting that as much as Morty hated the Emperor for trivialising his struggles, he still acknowledges he was the greatest in the galaxy.
Fulgrim brings up his own awards: the Imperial Eagle only his legion is allowed to wear en masse. It's not stated or implied, but in my head canon, he never fails to bring it up in any conversation like that annoying friend who never shuts up about the thing they did years ago.
Here, from Jaghatai's perspective, we see more of Fulgrim as the Khan sees him: He is flippant. Shallow. Dismissive. Someone raises a point (one of the few he and Mortarion agree on), and he makes a joke out of it. And judging by the 'could be', it implies that he's thought that on more than one occasion whenever their paths crossed infrequently.
In fairness to Fulgrim, this could also be taken as his attempt at peacemaking: a light jest to defuse tension, with a beautiful assist from Sanguinius. However, it's equally plausible to say he was just fanning his Eagle in their faces, and it was Sanguinius hard-carrying the diplomacy that day. He is 'tolerant' of Mortarion, as in "Aww, poor baby is having a tantrum."
It's also important to repeat: This is Jaghatai's perspective. Insightful and incisive, but distant and not without its prejudices.

Sanguinius looked at the Khan thoughtfully. ‘I thought you, of all of us, would feel joy for Horus.’
The Khan shrugged. ‘He is the best of us, I begrudge him nothing, and I have told him so. But it should never have happened.’
‘So should it have been you?’ asked Fulgrim acerbically. Mortarion snorted again, but Sanguinius said nothing.
‘I wouldn’t have taken it,’ said the Khan.
‘Of course you would have,’ said Fulgrim.
The Khan shook his head. ‘I have no use for another title. My people give me enough.’

The cracks start to open. Fulgrim looks petty when he tries to second-guess Jaghatai's claim that he wouldn't want the crown, especially when it's written that he comes across as 'acerbic': sarcastic, critical.
Once again, he's treating another of his brother's claims as a joke, if not questioning their character. Ironically, though, the Khan is now renowned among fans for his unique form of dry wit, too. Maybe from Fulgrim's perspective we might see he was trying to engage the Khan, loop him into more of that good-natured demigod competition fraternity (think Russ laughing after his previously-deathly-serious-brawl with Lion). But I think even then, it leans in more towards Fulgrim's ego calling out a naysayer in a pretty personal way, rather than making it about Horus or fellowship.
However, one thing I should point out: At this point, other than ungenerous thoughts, Jaghatai's given Fulgrim no reason to be this biting towards him. Perhaps he is being insistent on his protests, kind of like a guy who replies to a joke with an earnest answer (hello, Rogal Dorn). But he hasn't actually targeted Fulgrim out loud.
All he's voiced aloud is "Maybe Mortarion has a point." So either Fulgrim takes that as a challenge from a contrarian, or he's just decided to switch on the snark. And here, it feels less like the gentle teasing Sanguinius tried to allude to and more like a cynical "Pfft, right, you're a big hypocrite".

Sanguinius smiled. ‘My brother, I think you are the most inscrutable of us all. I know what Rogal wants, and I know what Roboute wants, but even after so long I have no idea what you want.’
‘He wants to be left alone,’ said Fulgrim. ‘To shoot off into the stars and hunt down xenos on those delightful jetbikes. They’re devilishly fast. I heard from a contact on Mars, Jaghatai, that you do strange things to your ships.’
The Khan shot him a heavy-lidded stare. ‘I heard you do strange things to your warriors.’
Fulgrim’s slender face briefly flared with anger, but Sanguinius laughed.

And here we have the infamous "sick burn". And to sum up, these are the main schools of thought:

1. It's a win for the Khan. Fulgrim had it coming, the arrogant peacock.
2. The Khan was talking about the Emperor's Children undergoing gene-surgery and chemical treatments to not die from space cancer, which is an extremely dickish thing to remark. I'm a Khan fan, but I would agree with this conclusion.
3. The Khan was making an anachronistic remark or foreshadowing Fulgrim's future fate as the Daemon Primarch of Slaanesh who would, indeed, do strange things to his warriors. Which is a fitting clapback for future Fulgrim, but out of place in the present.
4. A less prevalent view: The Khan was talking about "You guys are flamboyant and gay". Which is still dickish, but less of a 'punch down' compared to the blight in their gene seed.

I would, however, like to propose a new possibility: Jaghatai was talking about Fulgrim's new legion culture.
Consider how the Emperor's Children are seen in the 'modern' era of the Crusade: They are flamboyant, over-the-top, artistic. Experts at war, but also glory-hounds who want to be seen as the best, while also dressing themselves up in more bling than a light cruiser. The likes of Lucius and Eidolon are seen as the spoiled fruits of this era. The sort of Astartes who would (and have) jeopardised battle plans just for the sake of glory.
It got to the point that by the time of the Heresy, that was seen as the norm. And the exceptions? Saul Tarvitz. Solomon Demeter. And Ancient Freakin' Rylanor. All of which hearkened back to the Legion's glory days, back when being a paragon meant the drive for self-improvement without vainglory. Dutiful exemplars of shining character.
That's how they were SEEN, of course. The truth of it was probably not as clear cut; they probably had their share of obsessive glory-hounds in the old guard, and new members in Fulgrim's time who were raised with his best values to be an exemplar who inspired others by also being a stand-up guy.
There's very little elaboration on what Jaghatai meant, of course, so this is all purely academic. But I just thought I'd throw that theory in there!
And now that we've analysed the sick burn, I'd also like to analyse what brought it up: Fulgrim's compliment.
Fulgrim is, at face value, paying Jaghatai a compliment. His jetbikes are delightful! Fast! And this is coming from arguably the second-fastest of the Legions, what with the Emperor's Children's expertise in surgical, precision tactics like they were fencing with squads. And given what we know of Fulgrim at his best, I can understand people seeing this as a genuine compliment, perhaps lightly spiced with a jest about his desires.
Alas, much like Lorgar trying to engage Ferrus by asking if his hands could make anything other than instruments of war, it came across as backhanded condescension.
So, for starters, the main problem with Fulgrim's compliment within the scene is that he's speaking for Jaghatai. Assuming he knows best, like he assumes he knows Mortarion is just 'jealous'.
Additionally, while he's not entirely wrong, he's also being reductive. Fulgrim is basically reducing the Scars to "go fast, do our own thing, be left alone". And yes, those are all important to the White Scars, so it would be salty to be insulted over that. But we, the reader, know what Jaghatai does: that they're so much more than that. And that, in turn, plays into a common hang-up of the White Scars: they were resentful of how little effort people took to know them, even though they played an equal part in that by being distant and aloof. (further irony points: they made the same mistake with the Space Wolves)
Of course, all of this is done in the span of a few sentences, so we don't get the benefit of all of this context and background in the scene.
But from what we know about these Primarchs, I think the most we can say is this: After facing some pushback from his edgy loner brothers, Fulgrim is either trying to reach out to them with tone-deaf jests, or simply just throwing barbs at them assuming they can take it. Jaghatai, while being pretty judgemental in his assessments, hasn't actually gone on the offensive until this moment. But when he does, he goes for the throat.

‘I wonder which one of you would win in a duel,’ the Angel mused. ‘I would like to see that. You both handle a blade like gods.’
‘Name the place, brother,’ Fulgrim said to the Khan. ‘I’d even travel to Chogoris, if you built a palace to keep the dust from my armour.’
The Khan felt the insult. It stabbed at him, deeply, but his expression never changed. They could never know, none of them, how much their closed fraternity rankled him.
‘You would lose,’ said the Khan.
Fulgrim grinned, but there was something fragile in it. ‘Oh?’
‘You would lose because you would treat it like a game, like you treat everything, and I would not. You would lose because you know nothing of me, and I know everything of you because you shout it from the turrets of your battle cruisers. My prowess remains unknown. You have some reputation as a swordsman, brother, but I make no boast when I tell you I would leave you choking on it.’
Fulgrim’s cheeks flushed. For a moment, he looked like he would go for his blade. As ever, Sanguinius’s calm smile soothed the moment.
‘Now I regret bringing this up,’ he sighed. ‘In the cause of peace, shall we put this stupidity behind us? We are not at war, and never likely to be, and that is truly a blessing.’

Bonus points for the mental image that Sanguinius was stirring up this beef deliberately and sipping wine while he watched, but alas, that probably wasn't it. XD
This is the immediate aftermath of the burn, and loops once again into the original topic: Who would win in a fight. And it's interesting that as isolated as the Scars were, even Jaghatai earned a reputation as an indisputably superb swordsman. In terms of sheer skill, probably spoken of in the same breath as the likes of Fulgrim or the Lion by those in the know.
At this point, it becomes clearer that Fulgrim's challenge is getting a lot less "witty defusing of tension" and a lot more "fighting game player's salt-talk". It's just one insult here, but it's essentially calling Chogoris a primitive dustbowl. And as much as Jaghatai loves his homeworld for its elegant simplicity, he's not into insults hurled at it.
But while we, the reader, are inclined to believe that the Khan (even steamed up) isn't bragging (actual theoretical battle aside), especially when he readily admits to Mortarion that if they fought he wouldn't know who would win, I'm not gonna sugarcoat it: this would absolutely worsen Fulgrim's impression of him.
From Fulgrim's perspective, the Khan has not just cast aspersions on his sons, but his own prowess as a swordsman, claiming a semblance of false modesty yet saying he would best him easily and readily.
And from Jaghatai's perspective, Fulgrim was being flippant towards his brothers' concerns, treating sincere claims with condescending jests. And he, too, reduced his sons to a simple stereotype.
I have actually read a nice comment that Fulgrim, at his best, should actually appreciate Chogoris as a world unspoiled by rampant industry, where there was still art and beauty to be found. I can definitely get behind the take.
I think, however, that by this time, Fulgrim's got a certain idea of what art, beauty, and civilisation should look like. He lauds Imperial culture and its heights, and while he also adores various kinds of beauty (like what Sanguinius brought from Baal), I think it's just as likely that he would see less developed Feudal Worlds like Chogoris as backwater dumps, barely a step above a Feral World. Kind of like how he slid from someone who cared for common humanity to someone who looked down on most mortals and resented their interference.
So that's it! Thanks for reading this far if you've made it! And while we know Jaghatai went on to go up against Mortarion, I do think it would have been sweet to have seen this rivalry play out had Fulgrim been more dependable a leader in the Heresy.
Still, there's always hope for the future, right? After all, the Khan has already fought one Daemon Primarch beefing with him...

Source: https://www.lepoint.fculture/megalopolis-de-coppola-a-quoi-faut-il-s-attendre-11-05-2024-2559890_3.php

President and founder of Le Pacte, Jean Labadie talks to Le Point Pop about his negotiations with Coppola, and what to expect from a film which, we hope, will mark a new consecration for Caesar Coppola rather than the definitive fall of his empire. We can already hear some people sharpening their blades on social networks and mocking the images - however intriguing - of the very first extract recently unveiled by Le Pacte. O Tempora, O mores!

Le Point: When did you first see Megalopolis?
Jean Labadie: I discovered it in Los Angeles about two weeks ago, in the Imax screening room. In Cannes, the first screening of the film will take place for the daily press on the morning of May 16, in the Imax room at the Cineum Cannes-La Bocca. Before seeing the film, I had already made a proposal to American Zoetrope [Francis Ford Coppola's company, editor's note], which was approved in principle. I saw the film a second time recently at a screening organized for the Goodfellas team [Vincent Maraval's company, responsible for the international sales of Megalopolis] at the Pathé Quai-d'Ivry Imax theater.
Why do you think you were chosen? What did you bring to the table that made the difference with your competitors?
As you can imagine, we can't divulge the terms of the acquisition. It was a classic deal and a very simple contract of about twenty pages, including the traditional blah-blah. It was a fairly easy negotiation, but I was fortunately supported by two men who were my godfathers in the process: Thomas Langmann and Paul Rassam. From there on in, I'll leave you to dream about the sums!
As for the release date of Megalopolis in France, I can't confirm anything yet, since a “hold back” clause stipulates that we're committed to waiting for the film's American release before distributing it in French cinemas. This will probably be the same week, to avoid piracy. There are only 22 Imax theaters in France, and that's a long way from covering the whole country. So we'll be releasing the film in all the best cinemas possible, with exhibitors committed to meeting the technical screening conditions demanded by Coppola.
Without giving anything away, what can you expect from Megalopolis?
It's a film that's going to surprise you all the time, both in its narrative and in its form. It is all daring, and I defy viewers to predict what's going to happen from one sequence to the next. It's an approach that's unimaginable in cinema today, but it won't stop you from feeling extraordinary emotion and intellectual stimulation, because the film is so much about our society today and tomorrow. Megalopolis is about our lives, politics, science, time, family, creation, the trace we leave behind... All themes with which Coppola's cinema is familiar.
Above all, it's a spectacular film with an original visual universe. Its story is based on a tale that has spanned the centuries, since the point of departure is inspired by the historian Sallustus' account of the conjuration of Catilina [a political plot to seize power in Rome in 63 B.C. by the senator Lucius Sergius Catilina; Sallustus published his historical work in 43 B.C., editor's note]. Megalopolis is a film of incredible richness and ambition. You'll hear dialogue in English and Latin, but it's accessible to the general public - you just have to let yourself go.
If it's accessible to the general public, why have the major studios turned their backs on it?
First of all, the studios' operating structures are so cumbersome that they almost never buy a film they haven't initiated themselves. And anyway, they're not the same companies that Coppola, Scorsese or Spielberg were at the start of their careers. The majors are now run by people who follow the stock market above all else. Look at the current rumors surrounding Sony's takeover of Paramount. If a studio were to receive scripts for The Panic in Needle Park, Midnght Cowboy or The Conversation, it would refuse to distribute them.
I've got nothing against Barbie, I'm always happy when a film is a popular success, but clearly Megalopolis isn't Barbie. In any case, I have enormous confidence in the public. You have to trust them, they're much more intelligent than some industry professionals think, and Megalopolis has everything it takes to appeal to a wide theatrical audience. Yes, it's obviously aimed at film buffs, but it's spectacular in every sense of the word and should appeal to a wide audience.
Who are the film's other distributors outside Le Pacte and Goodfellas for international rights?
This Monday [May 13, editor's note] the list of the four other European distributors of Megalopolis outside Le Pacte will be revealed, for Germany, Italy, England and Spain, all chosen one after the other by Francis Ford Coppola, on the advice of his partner and lawyer Barry Hirsch and also Paul Rassam, who is still his true advisor. All of us distributors are convinced that this is a film for a wide audience.
How do you feel about the Cannes competition screening?
For me as a cinephile, it's an incredible thrill and an extraordinary opportunity to be the distributor of one of the most eagerly awaited films of the Cannes Festival. It's a film that will make a huge impression, I'm sure. It represents a great artistic and economic risk, and I think it's fantastic that Francis Ford Coppola continues to take unheard-of risks and to go so far against the major studios with their formatted products. With his own means, in total freedom, with an innovative film on a budget of $120 million. With the exception of Oppenheimer, there are few 100% studio-funded films that don't have to bow to artistic compromise.

Source: https://www.lepoint.fculture/megalopolis-de-coppola-a-quoi-faut-il-s-attendre-11-05-2024-2559890_3.php

President and founder of Le Pacte, Jean Labadie talks to Le Point Pop about his negotiations with Coppola, and what to expect from a film which, we hope, will mark a new consecration for Caesar Coppola rather than the definitive fall of his empire. We can already hear some people sharpening their blades on social networks and mocking the images - however intriguing - of the very first extract recently unveiled by Le Pacte. O Tempora, O mores!

Le Point: When did you first see Megalopolis?
Jean Labadie: I discovered it in Los Angeles about two weeks ago, in the Imax screening room. In Cannes, the first screening of the film will take place for the daily press on the morning of May 16, in the Imax room at the Cineum Cannes-La Bocca. Before seeing the film, I had already made a proposal to American Zoetrope [Francis Ford Coppola's company, editor's note], which was approved in principle. I saw the film a second time recently at a screening organized for the Goodfellas team [Vincent Maraval's company, responsible for the international sales of Megalopolis] at the Pathé Quai-d'Ivry Imax theater.
Why do you think you were chosen? What did you bring to the table that made the difference with your competitors?
As you can imagine, we can't divulge the terms of the acquisition. It was a classic deal and a very simple contract of about twenty pages, including the traditional blah-blah. It was a fairly easy negotiation, but I was fortunately supported by two men who were my godfathers in the process: Thomas Langmann and Paul Rassam. From there on in, I'll leave you to dream about the sums!
As for the release date of Megalopolis in France, I can't confirm anything yet, since a “hold back” clause stipulates that we're committed to waiting for the film's American release before distributing it in French cinemas. This will probably be the same week, to avoid piracy. There are only 22 Imax theaters in France, and that's a long way from covering the whole country. So we'll be releasing the film in all the best cinemas possible, with exhibitors committed to meeting the technical screening conditions demanded by Coppola.
Without giving anything away, what can you expect from Megalopolis?
It's a film that's going to surprise you all the time, both in its narrative and in its form. It is all daring, and I defy viewers to predict what's going to happen from one sequence to the next. It's an approach that's unimaginable in cinema today, but it won't stop you from feeling extraordinary emotion and intellectual stimulation, because the film is so much about our society today and tomorrow. Megalopolis is about our lives, politics, science, time, family, creation, the trace we leave behind... All themes with which Coppola's cinema is familiar.
Above all, it's a spectacular film with an original visual universe. Its story is based on a tale that has spanned the centuries, since the point of departure is inspired by the historian Sallustus' account of the conjuration of Catilina [a political plot to seize power in Rome in 63 B.C. by the senator Lucius Sergius Catilina; Sallustus published his historical work in 43 B.C., editor's note]. Megalopolis is a film of incredible richness and ambition. You'll hear dialogue in English and Latin, but it's accessible to the general public - you just have to let yourself go.
If it's accessible to the general public, why have the major studios turned their backs on it?
First of all, the studios' operating structures are so cumbersome that they almost never buy a film they haven't initiated themselves. And anyway, they're not the same companies that Coppola, Scorsese or Spielberg were at the start of their careers. The majors are now run by people who follow the stock market above all else. Look at the current rumors surrounding Sony's takeover of Paramount. If a studio were to receive scripts for The Panic in Needle Park, Midnght Cowboy or The Conversation, it would refuse to distribute them.
I've got nothing against Barbie, I'm always happy when a film is a popular success, but clearly Megalopolis isn't Barbie. In any case, I have enormous confidence in the public. You have to trust them, they're much more intelligent than some industry professionals think, and Megalopolis has everything it takes to appeal to a wide theatrical audience. Yes, it's obviously aimed at film buffs, but it's spectacular in every sense of the word and should appeal to a wide audience.
Who are the film's other distributors outside Le Pacte and Goodfellas for international rights?
This Monday [May 13, editor's note] the list of the four other European distributors of Megalopolis outside Le Pacte will be revealed, for Germany, Italy, England and Spain, all chosen one after the other by Francis Ford Coppola, on the advice of his partner and lawyer Barry Hirsch and also Paul Rassam, who is still his true advisor. All of us distributors are convinced that this is a film for a wide audience.
How do you feel about the Cannes competition screening?
For me as a cinephile, it's an incredible thrill and an extraordinary opportunity to be the distributor of one of the most eagerly awaited films of the Cannes Festival. It's a film that will make a huge impression, I'm sure. It represents a great artistic and economic risk, and I think it's fantastic that Francis Ford Coppola continues to take unheard-of risks and to go so far against the major studios with their formatted products. With his own means, in total freedom, with an innovative film on a budget of $120 million. With the exception of Oppenheimer, there are few 100% studio-funded films that don't have to bow to artistic compromise.

“Tytannial, Princess of Camellias”
“Talaya, Princess of Cherry Blossoms”
“Mariña, Princess of Sunflowers”
“Chirubimé, Princess of Autumn Leaves”
“Naturia” cards: ‘Beast, ‘Exterio’, ‘Guardian’, ‘Gaiastrio’, ‘Landoise’
“Lightsworn” cards: ‘Celestia’, ‘Aurkus’, ‘Curious’, ‘Ehren’, ‘Felis’, ‘Garoth’, ‘Gragonith’, ‘Jain’, ‘Jain Twilightsworn’, ‘Jenis’, ‘Dragonling’, ‘Lumina’, ‘Lumina Twilightsworn’, ‘Lyla’, ‘Lyla Twilightsworn’, ‘Michael’, ‘Minerva’, ‘Minerva Exalted’, ‘Minerva Athenian’, ‘Raiden’, ‘Rinyan’, ‘Ryko’, ‘Shire’, ‘Weiss’, ‘Wulf’, ‘Aegis’, ‘Barrier’, ‘Judgement’ ‘Sabre’, ‘Sanctuary’
“Judgment Dragon”
“Punishment Dragon”
“Enlightenment Dragon”
“Moon of the Closed Sky”
“Forbidden” cards: ‘Chalice’, ‘Scripture’, ‘Dress’, “Lance’, ‘Droplet’
“Condemned Maiden”
“Condemned Witch”
“Darklord” cards: ‘Nasten’, ‘Condemned’, ‘The Sanctified’, ‘Tezcatlipoca’
“Allure Queen” cards: ‘LV3’, ‘LV5’, ‘LV7’
“Aquarian Alessa”
“Freya, Spirit of Victory”
“Amaterasu”
“Izanagi”
“Izanami”
“Yamato-no-Kami”
“Cú Chulainn the Awakened”
“Dark Grepher”
“Knight Day Grepher”
“Lightray Grepher”
“Witch’s Strike”
“Queen’s Bodyguard”
“Emblem of the Awakening”
“Solemn Strike”
“Solemn Scolding”
“Tempest Magician”
“Rookie Warrior Lady”
“Warrior Lady of the Wasteland”
“Chain Thrasher”
“Lady of Lament” cards: ‘Lilith’, ‘Loris’, ‘Malice’, ‘Alice’
“Darkest Diabolos, Lord of the Lair”
“Evolzar” cards: ‘Dolkka’, ‘Laggia’, ‘Lars’, ‘Solda’
“Evo-Singularity”
“Breakthrough Skill”
“Mermail” cards: ‘Abyssnerei’, ‘Abyssbalaen’, ‘Abyssdine’, ‘Abyssgaios’, ‘Abysslinde’, ‘Abyssocea’, ‘Abyssgunde’, ‘Abysshilde’
“Lightray Sorcerer”
“Lightray Gearfried”
“Shapesister”
“Mermaid Archer”
“Element Valkyrie”
“Element Magician”
“Divine Grace - Northwemko”
“Ritual of Grace”
“Ritual of Destruction”
“Garlandolf, King of Destruction”
“Demise, King of Armageddon”
“Demise, Agent of Armageddon”
“Demise, Supreme king of Armageddon”
“Ruin, Queen of Oblivion”
“Ruin, Angel of Oblivion”
“Ruin, Supreme Queen of Oblivion”
“Genetic Woman”
“G.B. Hunter”
“Chaos-End Master”
“Royal Swamp Eel”
“Yaksha”
“Anarchist Monk Ranshin”
“Chow Len the Prophet”
“Gendo the Ascetic Monk”
“Maiden with Eyes of Blue”
“Protector with Eyes of Blue”
“Counselor Lily”
“Graceful Tear”
“Lswarm” cards: ‘Nightmare’, ‘Heliotrope’, ‘Thanatos’
“Rose, Warrior of Revenge”
“Snapdragon”
“Disenchanter”
“Dark Dimension Soldier”
“Koa’ki Meiru” cards: ‘Hydro Barrier’, ‘Drago’, ‘Tornado’, ‘Sandman’
“Atlantean” cards: ‘Neptabyss’, ‘Poseidra’, ‘Tridon’
“Danger!” cards: ‘Nessie’, ‘Bigfoot’, ‘Thunderbird’
“Colossal Fighter”
“Colossal FighteAssault Mode”
“Black Brutdrago”
“Dragon Ice”
“Gigaplant”
“Mist Wurm”
“Superalloy Beast Raptinus”
“Reptilianne” cards: ‘Melusine’, ‘Echidna’, ‘Hydra’, ‘Lamia’, ‘Medusa’, ‘Naga’, ‘Vaskii’, ‘Scylla’, ‘Viper’, ‘Coatl’, ‘Nyami’
“Chaos” cards: ‘Goddess’, ‘Archfiend’, ‘Angel’, ‘Beast’, ‘Phantasm’
“Amazoness” cards: ‘Queen’, ‘War Chief’, ‘Augusta’
“Generaider” cards: ‘Vala’, ‘Hela’, ‘Jormungandr’, ‘Harr’, ‘Laevatein’, ‘Boss Bite’, ‘Boss Room’, ‘Loptr’
“Fabled” cards: ‘Andwraith’, ‘Ashenveil’, ‘Catsith’, ‘Marcosia’, ‘Treason’, ‘Cerburrel’, ‘Chawa’, ‘Dianaira’, ‘Ganashia’, ‘Grimro’, ‘Raven’, ‘Kokkator’, ‘Kudabbi’, ‘Leviathan’, ‘Lurrie’, ‘Unicore’, ‘Soulkius’, ‘Ragin’, ‘Nozoochee’, ‘Peggulsus’, ‘Raven’, ‘Rubyruda’, ‘Soulkius’, ‘Valkyrus’, ‘Unicore’
“Pot of Duality”
“Nordic” cards: ‘Vanadis’, ‘Valkyrie’, ‘Mimir’, ‘Gullveig’
“Ancient Sacred Wyvern”
“Balance of Judgement”
“Vendread” cards: ‘Battlelord’, ‘Slayer’, ‘Executor’, ‘Scavenger’, ‘Scar of’, ‘Ravenous’
“Prophecy” cards: ‘Temperance’, ‘Charioteer’
“Adreus, Keeper of Armageddon”
“Tiras, Keeper of Genesis”
“Guardian Chimera”
“Guardian Eatos”
“Psychic Jumper”
“Plague Wolf”
“Simultaneous Loss”
“Dimension Wall”
“Dark Simorgh”
“Laval Forest Sprite”
“Dark Bribe”
“Flash Knight”
“Djinn Releaser of Rituals”
“Sky Scourge Cidhels”
"Sky Scourge Enrise"
"Sky Scourge Norleras"
"Sky Scourge Invicil"
Match winners: “Shelga, the Tri-Warlord”, “Queen Nereia the Silvercrown”, “E☆HERO Pit Boss”, “The Twin Kings, Founders of the Empire”, ”Kuzunoha, the Onmyojin”

For anyone who missed how this started
https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/PxAkXKR0aH
I didn’t expect so many people out there would care about what’s happening to me. I’d say it’s humbling, but, well, my situation has been humbling me since I left the states. You guys cheering me on, and trying to help, it’s kept me going though.
So, I figure the least I can do is keep you all updated until something prevents me from doing so. Likely in a permanent fashion.
I'll say, the ride home was awkward, to say the least. For all of the grim predictions running through my head going to the spectacle , on the way back they were ten times worse.
I wasn’t caged, shackled and tortured when I returned. If I said I was greeted with concern by the handful of distant relatives and lost souls I’d be over exaggerating. But there was a bit of respect and kindness .
I was patched up, as far as being stabbed goes, apparently I got lucky.
There was food, question free beer, and a healthy number of people asking how things went.
All I wanted to do was sleep, but something kept me going. Kept me answering questions I’d rather not have, kept my fear fried brain making conversation and trading verbal jabs.
A tap on my shoulder startles me, the sun is rising and if I don’t get to sleep soon, I’m going to fall over.
“Your half. “ Sylvia says, it’s just shy of a thousand pounds.
“All this was for, what is this? $600 American? “ I say.
“ Walk with me. “ Sylvia begins, I follow.
“Money isn’t much good if I’m dead. “ I say, my tone sullen and exasperated.
“Then don’t die. “ She replies, walking across the debris strewn scrub grass toward the farm house.
“Do you have any shame? You kidnapped me in the middle of the night to feed me to a couple of demons. I’m your nephew for Christ’s sake! “ I’m not yelling, I don’t think my body is capable of that much exertion at this point, but my words are clear.
“I’m not your aunt, Nikolas.
Great-Great-Great grandmother, give or take a generation. It’s been a long time.
And if I was doing, as you suggest, yes, I would feel a deep shame.” Sylvia lets the answers and questions ferment in my mind as we walk.
“So why not tell me what’s going on? Maybe teach me some of that magic you were tossing around at the airport. “ we stop outside a sliding door. Sylvia has a genuine look of amusement on her face.
“Magic? Nikolas, magic is what stupid people call being fooled.
Magic is the Priest’s sermon, the fortune teller’s reading, the huckster’s pitch.
It’s a way to create vast amounts of power from nothing.
The world is full of things that defy the laws of nature. What I do, what those of the family with me do, is understand them. We learn, we improvise, and we adapt.
We do not make power from nothing, we find it, and use it. “ Sylvia watches me, judging my response to her statement.
“So that’s what you meant before. About the trappings of the gypsy. This whole vibe, it’s a smokescreen.
Assholes expect the Gritts to be some Romani stereotype, and give you a wide berth. When strange shit happens, they chalk it up to some kind of con, or something they’ve seen in a movie. Either way, they aren’t looking for monster fights, and supernatural research. “ I know I’m in the ballpark when she pats me on the shoulder hard enough to hurt.
“And the value of your half, is somewhere around 30 thousand. We wager in esoteric items, favors, and creatures. When you leave, I’ll make you a fair offer for what is yours.
You’ll understand more in the morning after you have a chance to look around. “ Sylvia says before showing me a sparse, but clean, and comfortable room.
I wake up in the early afternoon, something, beyond the obvious nagging at me.
After a cup of nearly caustic tea, I finally realized what it was.
Sylvia, she told me a lot last night. But many of my questions were avoided. I know about her, and this place, but my fate, beyond another round of tug of war between two nightmares, is unknown.
That being said, my second conclusion, is that I need to start rolling with the punches. I’ve tried calling the police (they asked how Sylvia was doing before I said my name.), my parents, anyone, and like it or not, for one unsaid reason or another, I’m stuck here.
I’m going to skip a lot of introductions. Reading me introducing myself, 50 times and trying not to be awkward around folks that seem way too okay with me dying, probably wouldn’t be the best use of your time.
As I explore the grounds, I enter one of a handful of old barns. The inside has peg board walls hung with tools spanning the spectrum from mundane to esoteric enough I have no idea what they are.
Inside, among benches strewn with a random assortment of objects, and equipment, stand two men.
The first is Colin, he’s pale as a ghost, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived, he wears an Aerosmith shirt, and toolbelt that is making his pants lose a battle with gravity. The 40 something is holding an electrode connected to a thick, black wire directly patched into the main breaker.
The second, Dafyd is a short, olive skinned man in his mid fifties. His outfit consists of a tweed jacket, blue jeans and plain white shirt.
Between them on a grounded workbench sits a small snow globe, within stands a faded ballerina, one arm lost, floating randomly through the liquid.
My teeth ache as the breaker begins to make a dangerous humming noise. For a couple of seconds, a short blue spark arcs from the electrode to the snow globe.
The air smells of ozone to the point where I’m convinced I’ve burned out my nose hairs. The two men argue a bit between themselves in a language I’ve heard but never learned to speak. Then turn as they notice me.
“Nik, come settle an argument between your uncle and I. “ Dafyd says.
“Don’t know how much help I’m going to be, but I’ll do my best. “ I say, walking up.
“The kid has no idea what’s going on Dafyd. “ Colin says.
“I know, but we’re not looking for an expert opinion.
Nik, what year is it? “ Dafyd asks.
“1993.” I say without hesitation, “ What the hell? “ I add. My brain is a bit fried, but not enough to screw up the date by 30 something years.
“God damn it. “ Colin says.
“I knew it! “ exclaims Dafyd.
“This piece of shit is getting binned.
You look confused kid.
It’s called a gimmick. It’s the stuff side of what we deal in. Some of it, it’s two steps off of a horror novel. Most of it though, it’s just strange.
Figuring them out is 95% engineering and 5% esoterica.
They teaching you anything across the pond? “ Colin asks.
The question leads to a conversation, the conversation leads to a week of me shadowing the two finicky, strange guys.
I’d go into more detail, but as the days go by, things seem more and more like spending time with some out there branches in the family tree. As terrifying as everything has been, as terrifying as it is, it’s, interesting.
But I wouldn’t be writing if things were sunshine and roses though, would I?
One day, after working with objects that scared, confused and frustrated me in equal measure, I realized there was something I was avoiding.
So I found myself standing in front of Augustus, the creature held upright and immobile in it’s coffin-like cage. The Plexiglas window is cracked.
It's worse than I thought it would be. Every time I look at the thing’s face I see the blood it made me spill. I see the power it wields, and the murderous intent in it’s twisted pit of a mind.
But sometime soon, I’m going to be next to it again. I have to be able to keep myself together. I have to understand this thing as much as I can.
“Hey killer, how the fuck ya Doin? “ Augustus taunts. Shame reddens my fear paled face.
“Can we talk? “ I say, I want it to be a demand, it comes out as a whimper.
“What do we have to talk about, bud? What about this are you not picking up on yet? “ Augustus is smug, confident even while confined.
“How you seem to have this limitless ego, when you're being held by literally the oldest woman possible. “ I’m too scared to say this above a whisper.
“That dusty old wizard’s sleeve out there? She’ll fucking get hers.
Lucky bitch on a lucky day is all that was.
But luck runs out, and when it does, I’m gonna uproot your entire sad little family tree. “ Augustus threatens.
I actually take a step backward, and almost turn. The fear this thing causes, it’s more than the knowledge of what it can do, it’s a force in and of itself.
“Augustus, why not hear me out? “ I plead.
“Because kid, that’s not how this story goes.
I’ve got nothing but time, I’ll be around till the heat death of the fucking universe.
I don’t need to hear things like you out, I don’t need to bargain. No matter how airtight your inbred little clan thinks these bonds are, eventually, someone always makes a mistake. Something small, like a wrong angle on a rune.
Or…, “ as the thing talks, the door to the coffin like cage holding it starts to slowly swing outward, “ Something big, like forgetting to set the fucking padlock. “
I’m already running as he talks, but he’s standing in front of the exit before I can take a step.
He looms in front of the door, coat spreading, seemingly of it’s own accord, making the patchwork killer seem like some kind of twisted manta ray.
He locks eyes with me, I’m frozen, gripped in terror so intense I have no idea if it’s mundane or the aura of fear Augustus projects.
Those mismatched orbs burrow into me, I feel like this thing can see into my soul.
He inhales for an impossibly long time, a slick, menacing grin spreading across his leathery face.
“Yeah, today’s the day kid.” He says, a kick sending me across the floor like a smooth rock across the surface of a pond.
I’ve never felt pain like this, I try to stand, but my knee refuses to bend. I hit the ground and my ribs scream, I’m sure at least one was broken in the tumble.
I hear Augustus’ footsteps, my struggles to get to my feet are useless. Seconds in, i’m in literal crippling pain.
He grabs me by the throat, taking his time as he raises me above his head.
The look of joy on his face as I choke and struggle to breathe twists his features, for a moment he appears nearly snakelike.
He holds the tips of his claw-like nails against my stomach. Then draws his arm back.
“Don’t worry bud, I’m not just going to tear out your heart, everyone does that shit.
This isn’t going to be a sprint, it’s a fucking marathon. I just want to aerate the track a little bit before we start. “ His hand blurs and I close my eyes hoping I don’t last very long.
“Stop” I hear a deep, smooth, male voice say.
I hit the ground, and try to see who just stopped the beginning of my execution, but the pain, the cracked ribs, pulled muscles and long ragged scrapes have me seeing spots.
When my vision clears, I see a tall, blond man with impossibly angular features, dressed in an immaculate black and mauve suit.
His eyes try to look kind, but there is something wrong behind them. Something waiting to be let out.
“Who are you? “ I say, one lip, split and torn.
“You can call me Art. Arthur Deus if you feel like being formal.
But what you want to know, is why I’m here.
Well Nikolas, to simplify things, think of me as the older brother of the leering terror your ‘aunt’ has trapped here. “ As Arthur talks, I notice something, the motes of dust in the air are hanging still.
“I have no problems with you taking him. I haven’t seen you, I don’t know your name. Couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. “ I ramble.
Arthur holds up a finger, I go silent.
“If only it were that easy.
See Nikolas, your aunt and I, have quite the history. And as much as it pains me to admit it, she’s a crafty one, and has the means to make things very difficult for me.
Sylvia cannot know I’m involved, this is why I have an offer for you. “ As art says this, he waves a hand, almost dismissively.
Like a switch being flipped my pain stops, I watch as my wounds begin to seal and fade, amazed.
“What is it? “ I say. The words feel like they have weight.
“Sylvia is looking for someone to take over for her. As old as she is, she’s not immortal.
You’re her third attempt.
I’m not going to lie to you and say I care about what’s happening to the humans involved in this grim little spectacle. But I care about my family, and to a lesser extent, those like myself.
This bloodsport that your aunt is a part of, it’s vile. It’s world spanning, and it’s for nothing more than greed and bragging rights.
I want to change this. And I would like you to help me. “ Art’s tone is slick and confident.
“If I do, then you get him to back off? “ I say, pointing to Augustus.
Art looks dismayed for a moment.
“That’s not something I can really promise Nikolas. If anything could force him to listen to reason, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. “ My heart sinks as Art says this.
“Fuck off Art. “ Augustus says.
Arthur rolls his eyes. They seem to go just a little too far back.
“But what I can do, is have a conversation with him, impress upon him how important it is he works with you. “ Art pats me on the shoulder before turning toward his sibling. His hand is impossibly hot.
“This kid dies, that is not my fault. You’ve seen this shit, he’s not built for it, just bust me out of here. “ Augustus isn’t far off of pleading in his tone.
“You know that’s not possible. I cannot let Sylvia know I’m here. But given time, I will have you out. “ Art assures.
“Fact remains, this kid gets on the wrong side of a blade or a fuckin, werewolf or something, that’s not on me.
Even if he manages to keep his lungs in his chest, look at him. His mind is cracking, he’s either insane or God-damned, catatonic in two months. “ Now Augustus sounds like a cocky piece of shit again.
“Of course, if he dies, or succumbs mentally, that’s not on you.
But I want you, to make a promise to me. I want you to understand that this child cannot be harmed by your hand. “ It sounds like Art is talking to a five year old.
Augustus shrugs before replying.
“The fuck you want me to say? You know me, you know I can’t say I’m not hurting this kid. And I sure as hell am not making a promise about it so you can get you-know-who involved when nature takes it’s course.
Fuck this kid, get me out of here.”
Arthur sighs and turns from Augustus , walking to me.
“Nikolas, I have something to tell you. “ He says, there’s a gravity to his tone that clearly makes Augustus uncomfortable.
“Art, what are you doing? “ The Trenchcoat wearing creature asks.
Art kneels bringing himself eye to eye with me.
“Don’t do this. “ Augustus says.
“Then promise. “ Art replies, a few seconds of silence go by, “ As you can see, I cannot guarantee your safety Nikolas.
But, for his own good, I want to tell you a word, one that will make my myopic brother look at things a little differently, if the need arises.
I’d use it sparingly, it’s not meant for those like yourself. It will have a physical, mental and spiritual toll. But it might spare you the worst of his excesses. “
That word was the last thing Arthur said to me. With a staggering, disorienting lurch, time began to move forward.
It kept moving forward for the next month.
I learned a lot over that time, but, not what you might expect.
As it turns out, there is a hell of a lot more engineering, physics, and chemistry involved in working with the supernatural than, summoning circles and newt eyes.
But eventually, the day I was dreading came.
The venue was a strip club of all places, a massive building, on the outskirts of Norwich, gaudy neon lights illuminate a place that, unlike the theme restaurant, seems to be in active use.
There was a different ambiance this time. The folks milling around the rune etched Lucite box seemed more sedate, and a hell of a lot richer.
The lighting was professional, driving music sets a professional sports tone.
This time I walk in the cage of my own accord. It’s not pride, or bravery, but simply knowing, I have no choice.
The roar of the crowd stokes my fear as Augustus slowly opens the door of his coffin-like vessel.
He loves the attention, his grin both horrifying and genuine.
“Guess we’re in the big leagues now, eh, killer? “ Augustus prods.
I’m sweating. I’ve cut a little weight over the past month, unintentionally, but as I wonder what horror is going to come walking in the other side of this cage. I don’t think being in marginally better shape and having a working knowledge of basic engineering is going to do me a lot of good.
Suddenly the crowd is silent, lights illuminate a spot at the far end of the massive Lucite box.
She’s small, slight, and has grey, lifeless skin. Her eyes are massive, her body beautiful, but exaggerated to the point of looking cartoonish. She’s not wearing much, a small t-shirt and what I’ll generously call a bikini bottom.
Beside her is a massive, brick slab of a man, late twenties or early thirties. His eyes are wild, he’s covered in layers of scars, and burns. He wears an old, worn prison uniform that’s never seen a washing machine.
He matches her strange, boneless stride, with a loping wolf-like gait.
“Entering the ring, you know her, you love her. She’s the Vixen of the void, The Nymph of nothing, Norwich’s own, ‘Sweet’ Francis Anne!
And at her side, brought in at great expense from the land of Twinkies, cheeseburgers and weak beer, The Corps Killer, the Military Mangler, with 24 out of ring kills and 36 in, ‘Big’ Billy Speck! “ an announcer screams.
The crowd bursts into life, noise shakes the walls of the cage.
“And, on the other side, I don’t know, some wanker in a Trenchcoat, and a kid that isn’t even old enough to be here. Let’s watch them die. “ He finishes.
Augustus looks enraged, his teeth chatter, he flexes his clawed hands. I walk in his shadow as he advances to face the creature and her second.
“I know you! “ The grey skinned thing says, her voice high pitched. As she speaks I notice what appears to be a thick scar bisecting her from forehead to stomach.
“Never heard of you. Neither will anyone else after this. “ Augustus says with a grin.
“You’re the runt of the litter right? Royal blood but peasant flesh, that’s what they say, no? “ Francis says, she grins a toothless smile. The inside of her mouth, a black void.
“Fuck my family. What I am is as good as meat gets. I give myself power, all you have is a cosmic std. “ Augustus stares Francis down as he talks.
Francis reacts with nothing more than a coy look. Bill stares down at me, the handle of some large blade sticking out of his right pocket, and a short length of chain wrapped around his left forearm.
A buzzer cuts through the roar of the crowd, the world seems to consist of nothing more than myself and the horrors around me as the timer begins to count down.
Like a flash Augustus leaps at Francis, but her body stretches and contorts as she moves, he never gets close.
I tear myself away from the clash of unnatural creatures as I look to the mutilated killer in front of me.
I didn’t come in unarmed, but I also was expecting another kid. And wanted to avoid what happened last time if at all possible. My heart races as I pull the small black can from the pocket of my worn, grey hoodie.
For a second I feel like a badass. I’ve got the can of mace aimed and spraying before Bill can react.
Four seconds tick by before the can is empty, Bill is soaked in thick yellow liquid, it runs down his face like tears.
The psycho doesn’t even blink.
“You good? “ he asks before slapping my outstretched arm aside and shattering my nose with a backhanded blow that seemed almost an afterthought.
Augustus screams in frustration, moving faster than I can track, but not able to put a scratch on the amorphous, rubbery woman.
Bill uncoils the chain, and I feel a sudden deep, crushing pain in my chest. I stumble backward, coughing. He laughs and whips the chain out again, I manage to see the next blow, but have no way of stopping it.
He manages to hit the same spot, the pain is overwhelming, my lungs feel bruised, I can’t breathe.
Francis seems to have grown bored avoiding Augustus, he pants, sucking wind as she stands in front of him.
That scar splits, not fully, but from forehead to the bridge of her nose. What’s behind it, is nothing.
I mean that in terms so literal, I can’t describe how it looked. It was more of a feeling that a sight. Looking into it, made me understand just how empty something can actually be.
Pieces of Augustus’ skin and flesh begin to, simply not exist. His look of confusion lasts for about a second before he’s sent sailing through the air by a long, whip-like arm.
The trenchcoat clad creature extracts himself from a tangled mess of tables, chairs and debris. Francis and Bill laugh, mocking us.
“Let’s trade dance partners” Augustus says, his two handed shove launching my broken body into Francis.
She catches me, her body absorbing the impact.
Fear is making me hyperventilate, physical trauma is turning that into a wheezing pant that feels like being waterboarded.
Francis looks down at me, violence and seduction in her eyes.
“Make things easy for me and I’ll let you go out with a bang. “ She says, the look of carnal violence on her face makes me gag.
Augustus struggles with Bill, the creatures wounds many and severe.
A minute remains, but I don’t know if I can last another ten seconds.
Francis stretches one arm into a thin tendril, it begins to circle me, caging me into a progressively smaller area.
“I’m sixteen, you paranormal nonce. “ I blurt out, the pain from my broken nose almost making me pass out, “ That’s the word they use around here, right? For the kind of creep that gets supernatural powers to hit on a kid? “
I can’t run, I can’t fight, all I can do is try to distract this thing for another 42 seconds.
Her face begins to turn, shifting and warping into something resembling a cattle skull more than a person.
The wet snapping noise distracts both Francis and myself.
Augustus has his hand buried in the chest of the convict, he holds the man aloft for a moment.
Augustus says something in a language I can’t even guess at, and with one fluid motion tears the black, decayed heart from his own chest and replaces it with that of the killer.
He begins to scream, then laugh, wounds spraying ichor, he seems to swell, his face a mask of pleasure and Ill intent.
“Death machine just needed a new engine. “ Augustus says with a cackle.
Francis forgets about me and lashes out, quite literally, at Augustus. Limbs becoming a frenzied blur of snaking flesh, , destroying anything they so much as graze.
He wades into the storm, flirting around the edges of the cage, making her chase him with the lethal limbs.
The conflict is a blur, but at the 23 second mark I see it. As much as I hate the prick, I’m almost impressed.
She’s tangled, somewhere among the bent stripper poles, and doorways to private booths, She’s caught herself.
Augustus takes his time now, her body is stretched thin, looped around door handles and under stages.
Ten seconds left, Augustus is feet from her writhing, blob-like form. Her features pulled taught enough to be nearly non-existent.
“Takes a lot to open yourself up doesn’t it? “ Augustus says, kneeling, he holds the killer’s knife in one hand, “ Why don’t I do it for you? “
The blade is barely touching her flesh as the timer ends.
“Fuck’s sake! “ Augustus says, standing, and letting the knife fall to the floor.
Something about the way he walks to one end of the Lucite cage worries me.
“Nobody likes a draw, but as far as they go, that was one hell of a kiss to your sister, wasn’t it folks?
No one is defeating our lovely lady of legend, but let’s hear it for the man who tried… Trenchcoat! “ The announcer screams over the loudspeaker.
The crowd is on their feet, bets are being paid out, and two groups of people are trying to open doors conveniently barred by flesh no person is going to get through.
I jog up to him, my body screaming at me every step of the way. He taps along one clear wall.
“Cheap runes. “ Augustus says, before driving his fist like a spear through the Lucite.
The hole he makes is about the size of a watermelon, his hand easily going through all six inches of the wall.
But it’s not big enough to accommodate the body of the poor twenty something he drags through.
In an instant the man is flensed, his small bones broken, eyes, ears and jaw, nothing more than a smear.
But he’s still alive, wailing a haunting death bellow as he struggles to understand what just happened.
“Stop! “ I scream, horrified. Blood sprays from my ruined nose, “You think I won’t say it? “
Augustus slowly cocks his head, punching his fist through the wall again, and tossing another victim beside the first.
“In front of your family, and that aunt of yours? You think this is bad? The shit she’ll do to you if she knows you even looked at my Dangerous Brothers looking prick of a brother will make this look like a massage.” Trenchcoat pauses, letting the reality sink in, letting my absolute lack of power envelop me like a blanket, “ You want me to stop? I’ll give you something no one else has, a choice.
Either finish one of these pieces of meat off, or, have a taste. “
He brings his hand back for another strike, and I make my choice.
No, I’m not telling you which one. I can share a lot of things with you guys. But, I’m sorry, how I picked to save the rest of the people in that place is a shame I’m going to carry on my own.
Don’t know if any of you will want to hear from me again, after knowing what I’ve had to do, who I’ve had to deal with, but I’m going to keep posting. This is getting nothing but worse, and maybe, I can save someone else the same fate.

For anyone who missed how this started.
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/s/8Gy9JbmUVC
I didn’t expect so many people out there would care about what’s happening to me. I’d say it’s humbling, but, well, my situation has been humbling me since I left the states. You guys cheering me on, and trying to help, it’s kept me going though.
So, I figure the least I can do is keep you all updated until something prevents me from doing so. Likely in a permanent fashion.
I'll say, the ride home was awkward, to say the least. For all of the grim predictions running through my head going to the spectacle , on the way back they were ten times worse.
I wasn’t caged, shackled and tortured when I returned. If I said I was greeted with concern by the handful of distant relatives and lost souls I’d be over exaggerating. But there was a bit of respect and kindness .
I was patched up, as far as being stabbed goes, apparently I got lucky.
There was food, question free beer, and a healthy number of people asking how things went.
All I wanted to do was sleep, but something kept me going. Kept me answering questions I’d rather not have, kept my fear fried brain making conversation and trading verbal jabs.
A tap on my shoulder startles me, the sun is rising and if I don’t get to sleep soon, I’m going to fall over.
“Your half. “ Sylvia says, it’s just shy of a thousand pounds.
“All this was for, what is this? $600 American? “ I say.
“ Walk with me. “ Sylvia begins, I follow.
“Money isn’t much good if I’m dead. “ I say, my tone sullen and exasperated.
“Then don’t die. “ She replies, walking across the debris strewn scrub grass toward the farm house.
“Do you have any shame? You kidnapped me in the middle of the night to feed me to a couple of demons. I’m your nephew for Christ’s sake! “ I’m not yelling, I don’t think my body is capable of that much exertion at this point, but my words are clear.
“I’m not your aunt, Nikolas.
Great-Great-Great grandmother, give or take a generation. It’s been a long time.
And if I was doing, as you suggest, yes, I would feel a deep shame.” Sylvia lets the answers and questions ferment in my mind as we walk.
“So why not tell me what’s going on? Maybe teach me some of that magic you were tossing around at the airport. “ we stop outside a sliding door. Sylvia has a genuine look of amusement on her face.
“Magic? Nikolas, magic is what stupid people call being fooled.
Magic is the Priest’s sermon, the fortune teller’s reading, the huckster’s pitch.
It’s a way to create vast amounts of power from nothing.
The world is full of things that defy the laws of nature. What I do, what those of the family with me do, is understand them. We learn, we improvise, and we adapt.
We do not make power from nothing, we find it, and use it. “ Sylvia watches me, judging my response to her statement.
“So that’s what you meant before. About the trappings of the gypsy. This whole vibe, it’s a smokescreen.
Assholes expect the Gritts to be some Romani stereotype, and give you a wide berth. When strange shit happens, they chalk it up to some kind of con, or something they’ve seen in a movie. Either way, they aren’t looking for monster fights, and supernatural research. “ I know I’m in the ballpark when she pats me on the shoulder hard enough to hurt.
“And the value of your half, is somewhere around 30 thousand. We wager in esoteric items, favors, and creatures. When you leave, I’ll make you a fair offer for what is yours.
You’ll understand more in the morning after you have a chance to look around. “ Sylvia says before showing me a sparse, but clean, and comfortable room.
I wake up in the early afternoon, something, beyond the obvious nagging at me.
After a cup of nearly caustic tea, I finally realized what it was.
Sylvia, she told me a lot last night. But many of my questions were avoided. I know about her, and this place, but my fate, beyond another round of tug of war between two nightmares, is unknown.
That being said, my second conclusion, is that I need to start rolling with the punches. I’ve tried calling the police (they asked how Sylvia was doing before I said my name.), my parents, anyone, and like it or not, for one unsaid reason or another, I’m stuck here.
I’m going to skip a lot of introductions. Reading me introducing myself, 50 times and trying not to be awkward around folks that seem way too okay with me dying, probably wouldn’t be the best use of your time.
As I explore the grounds, I enter one of a handful of old barns. The inside has peg board walls hung with tools spanning the spectrum from mundane to esoteric enough I have no idea what they are.
Inside, among benches strewn with a random assortment of objects, and equipment, stand two men.
The first is Colin, he’s pale as a ghost, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived, he wears an Aerosmith shirt, and toolbelt that is making his pants lose a battle with gravity. The 40 something is holding an electrode connected to a thick, black wire directly patched into the main breaker.
The second, Dafyd is a short, olive skinned man in his mid fifties. His outfit consists of a tweed jacket, blue jeans and plain white shirt.
Between them on a grounded workbench sits a small snow globe, within stands a faded ballerina, one arm lost, floating randomly through the liquid.
My teeth ache as the breaker begins to make a dangerous humming noise. For a couple of seconds, a short blue spark arcs from the electrode to the snow globe.
The air smells of ozone to the point where I’m convinced I’ve burned out my nose hairs. The two men argue a bit between themselves in a language I’ve heard but never learned to speak. Then turn as they notice me.
“Nik, come settle an argument between your uncle and I. “ Dafyd says.
“Don’t know how much help I’m going to be, but I’ll do my best. “ I say, walking up.
“The kid has no idea what’s going on Dafyd. “ Colin says.
“I know, but we’re not looking for an expert opinion.
Nik, what year is it? “ Dafyd asks.
“1993.” I say without hesitation, “ What the hell? “ I add. My brain is a bit fried, but not enough to screw up the date by 30 something years.
“God damn it. “ Colin says.
“I knew it! “ exclaims Dafyd.
“This piece of shit is getting binned.
You look confused kid.
It’s called a gimmick. It’s the stuff side of what we deal in. Some of it, it’s two steps off of a horror novel. Most of it though, it’s just strange.
Figuring them out is 95% engineering and 5% esoterica.
They teaching you anything across the pond? “ Colin asks.
The question leads to a conversation, the conversation leads to a week of me shadowing the two finicky, strange guys.
I’d go into more detail, but as the days go by, things seem more and more like spending time with some out there branches in the family tree. As terrifying as everything has been, as terrifying as it is, it’s, interesting.
But I wouldn’t be writing if things were sunshine and roses though, would I?
One day, after working with objects that scared, confused and frustrated me in equal measure, I realized there was something I was avoiding.
So I found myself standing in front of Augustus, the creature held upright and immobile in it’s coffin-like cage. The Plexiglas window is cracked.
It's worse than I thought it would be. Every time I look at the thing’s face I see the blood it made me spill. I see the power it wields, and the murderous intent in it’s twisted pit of a mind.
But sometime soon, I’m going to be next to it again. I have to be able to keep myself together. I have to understand this thing as much as I can.
“Hey killer, how the fuck ya Doin? “ Augustus taunts. Shame reddens my fear paled face.
“Can we talk? “ I say, I want it to be a demand, it comes out as a whimper.
“What do we have to talk about, bud? What about this are you not picking up on yet? “ Augustus is smug, confident even while confined.
“How you seem to have this limitless ego, when you're being held by literally the oldest woman possible. “ I’m too scared to say this above a whisper.
“That dusty old wizard’s sleeve out there? She’ll fucking get hers.
Lucky bitch on a lucky day is all that was.
But luck runs out, and when it does, I’m gonna uproot your entire sad little family tree. “ Augustus threatens.
I actually take a step backward, and almost turn. The fear this thing causes, it’s more than the knowledge of what it can do, it’s a force in and of itself.
“Augustus, why not hear me out? “ I plead.
“Because kid, that’s not how this story goes.
I’ve got nothing but time, I’ll be around till the heat death of the fucking universe.
I don’t need to hear things like you out, I don’t need to bargain. No matter how airtight your inbred little clan thinks these bonds are, eventually, someone always makes a mistake. Something small, like a wrong angle on a rune.
Or…, “ as the thing talks, the door to the coffin like cage holding it starts to slowly swing outward, “ Something big, like forgetting to set the fucking padlock. “
I’m already running as he talks, but he’s standing in front of the exit before I can take a step.
He looms in front of the door, coat spreading, seemingly of it’s own accord, making the patchwork killer seem like some kind of twisted manta ray.
He locks eyes with me, I’m frozen, gripped in terror so intense I have no idea if it’s mundane or the aura of fear Augustus projects.
Those mismatched orbs burrow into me, I feel like this thing can see into my soul.
He inhales for an impossibly long time, a slick, menacing grin spreading across his leathery face.
“Yeah, today’s the day kid.” He says, a kick sending me across the floor like a smooth rock across the surface of a pond.
I’ve never felt pain like this, I try to stand, but my knee refuses to bend. I hit the ground and my ribs scream, I’m sure at least one was broken in the tumble.
I hear Augustus’ footsteps, my struggles to get to my feet are useless. Seconds in, i’m in literal crippling pain.
He grabs me by the throat, taking his time as he raises me above his head.
The look of joy on his face as I choke and struggle to breathe twists his features, for a moment he appears nearly snakelike.
He holds the tips of his claw-like nails against my stomach. Then draws his arm back.
“Don’t worry bud, I’m not just going to tear out your heart, everyone does that shit.
This isn’t going to be a sprint, it’s a fucking marathon. I just want to aerate the track a little bit before we start. “ His hand blurs and I close my eyes hoping I don’t last very long.
“Stop” I hear a deep, smooth, male voice say.
I hit the ground, and try to see who just stopped the beginning of my execution, but the pain, the cracked ribs, pulled muscles and long ragged scrapes have me seeing spots.
When my vision clears, I see a tall, blond man with impossibly angular features, dressed in an immaculate black and mauve suit.
His eyes try to look kind, but there is something wrong behind them. Something waiting to be let out.
“Who are you? “ I say, one lip, split and torn.
“You can call me Art. Arthur Deus if you feel like being formal.
But what you want to know, is why I’m here.
Well Nikolas, to simplify things, think of me as the older brother of the leering terror your ‘aunt’ has trapped here. “ As Arthur talks, I notice something, the motes of dust in the air are hanging still.
“I have no problems with you taking him. I haven’t seen you, I don’t know your name. Couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. “ I ramble.
Arthur holds up a finger, I go silent.
“If only it were that easy.
See Nikolas, your aunt and I, have quite the history. And as much as it pains me to admit it, she’s a crafty one, and has the means to make things very difficult for me.
Sylvia cannot know I’m involved, this is why I have an offer for you. “ As art says this, he waves a hand, almost dismissively.
Like a switch being flipped my pain stops, I watch as my wounds begin to seal and fade, amazed.
“What is it? “ I say. The words feel like they have weight.
“Sylvia is looking for someone to take over for her. As old as she is, she’s not immortal.
You’re her third attempt.
I’m not going to lie to you and say I care about what’s happening to the humans involved in this grim little spectacle. But I care about my family, and to a lesser extent, those like myself.
This bloodsport that your aunt is a part of, it’s vile. It’s world spanning, and it’s for nothing more than greed and bragging rights.
I want to change this. And I would like you to help me. “ Art’s tone is slick and confident.
“If I do, then you get him to back off? “ I say, pointing to Augustus.
Art looks dismayed for a moment.
“That’s not something I can really promise Nikolas. If anything could force him to listen to reason, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. “ My heart sinks as Art says this.
“Fuck off Art. “ Augustus says.
Arthur rolls his eyes. They seem to go just a little too far back.
“But what I can do, is have a conversation with him, impress upon him how important it is he works with you. “ Art pats me on the shoulder before turning toward his sibling. His hand is impossibly hot.
“This kid dies, that is not my fault. You’ve seen this shit, he’s not built for it, just bust me out of here. “ Augustus isn’t far off of pleading in his tone.
“You know that’s not possible. I cannot let Sylvia know I’m here. But given time, I will have you out. “ Art assures.
“Fact remains, this kid gets on the wrong side of a blade or a fuckin, werewolf or something, that’s not on me.
Even if he manages to keep his lungs in his chest, look at him. His mind is cracking, he’s either insane or God-damned, catatonic in two months. “ Now Augustus sounds like a cocky piece of shit again.
“Of course, if he dies, or succumbs mentally, that’s not on you.
But I want you, to make a promise to me. I want you to understand that this child cannot be harmed by your hand. “ It sounds like Art is talking to a five year old.
Augustus shrugs before replying.
“The fuck you want me to say? You know me, you know I can’t say I’m not hurting this kid. And I sure as hell am not making a promise about it so you can get you-know-who involved when nature takes it’s course.
Fuck this kid, get me out of here.”
Arthur sighs and turns from Augustus , walking to me.
“Nikolas, I have something to tell you. “ He says, there’s a gravity to his tone that clearly makes Augustus uncomfortable.
“Art, what are you doing? “ The Trenchcoat wearing creature asks.
Art kneels bringing himself eye to eye with me.
“Don’t do this. “ Augustus says.
“Then promise. “ Art replies, a few seconds of silence go by, “ As you can see, I cannot guarantee your safety Nikolas.
But, for his own good, I want to tell you a word, one that will make my myopic brother look at things a little differently, if the need arises.
I’d use it sparingly, it’s not meant for those like yourself. It will have a physical, mental and spiritual toll. But it might spare you the worst of his excesses. “
That word was the last thing Arthur said to me. With a staggering, disorienting lurch, time began to move forward.
It kept moving forward for the next month.
I learned a lot over that time, but, not what you might expect.
As it turns out, there is a hell of a lot more engineering, physics, and chemistry involved in working with the supernatural than, summoning circles and newt eyes.
But eventually, the day I was dreading came.
The venue was a strip club of all places, a massive building, on the outskirts of Norwich, gaudy neon lights illuminate a place that, unlike the theme restaurant, seems to be in active use.
There was a different ambiance this time. The folks milling around the rune etched Lucite box seemed more sedate, and a hell of a lot richer.
The lighting was professional, driving music sets a professional sports tone.
This time I walk in the cage of my own accord. It’s not pride, or bravery, but simply knowing, I have no choice.
The roar of the crowd stokes my fear as Augustus slowly opens the door of his coffin-like vessel.
He loves the attention, his grin both horrifying and genuine.
“Guess we’re in the big leagues now, eh, killer? “ Augustus prods.
I’m sweating. I’ve cut a little weight over the past month, unintentionally, but as I wonder what horror is going to come walking in the other side of this cage. I don’t think being in marginally better shape and having a working knowledge of basic engineering is going to do me a lot of good.
Suddenly the crowd is silent, lights illuminate a spot at the far end of the massive Lucite box.
She’s small, slight, and has grey, lifeless skin. Her eyes are massive, her body beautiful, but exaggerated to the point of looking cartoonish. She’s not wearing much, a small t-shirt and what I’ll generously call a bikini bottom.
Beside her is a massive, brick slab of a man, late twenties or early thirties. His eyes are wild, he’s covered in layers of scars, and burns. He wears an old, worn prison uniform that’s never seen a washing machine.
He matches her strange, boneless stride, with a loping wolf-like gait.
“Entering the ring, you know her, you love her. She’s the Vixen of the void, The Nymph of nothing, Norwich’s own, ‘Sweet’ Francis Anne!
And at her side, brought in at great expense from the land of Twinkies, cheeseburgers and weak beer, The Corps Killer, the Military Mangler, with 24 out of ring kills and 36 in, ‘Big’ Billy Speck! “ an announcer screams.
The crowd bursts into life, noise shakes the walls of the cage.
“And, on the other side, I don’t know, some wanker in a Trenchcoat, and a kid that isn’t even old enough to be here. Let’s watch them die. “ He finishes.
Augustus looks enraged, his teeth chatter, he flexes his clawed hands. I walk in his shadow as he advances to face the creature and her second.
“I know you! “ The grey skinned thing says, her voice high pitched. As she speaks I notice what appears to be a thick scar bisecting her from forehead to stomach.
“Never heard of you. Neither will anyone else after this. “ Augustus says with a grin.
“You’re the runt of the litter right? Royal blood but peasant flesh, that’s what they say, no? “ Francis says, she grins a toothless smile. The inside of her mouth, a black void.
“Fuck my family. What I am is as good as meat gets. I give myself power, all you have is a cosmic std. “ Augustus stares Francis down as he talks.
Francis reacts with nothing more than a coy look. Bill stares down at me, the handle of some large blade sticking out of his right pocket, and a short length of chain wrapped around his left forearm.
A buzzer cuts through the roar of the crowd, the world seems to consist of nothing more than myself and the horrors around me as the timer begins to count down.
Like a flash Augustus leaps at Francis, but her body stretches and contorts as she moves, he never gets close.
I tear myself away from the clash of unnatural creatures as I look to the mutilated killer in front of me.
I didn’t come in unarmed, but I also was expecting another kid. And wanted to avoid what happened last time if at all possible. My heart races as I pull the small black can from the pocket of my worn, grey hoodie.
For a second I feel like a badass. I’ve got the can of mace aimed and spraying before Bill can react.
Four seconds tick by before the can is empty, Bill is soaked in thick yellow liquid, it runs down his face like tears.
The psycho doesn’t even blink.
“You good? “ he asks before slapping my outstretched arm aside and shattering my nose with a backhanded blow that seemed almost an afterthought.
Augustus screams in frustration, moving faster than I can track, but not able to put a scratch on the amorphous, rubbery woman.
Bill uncoils the chain, and I feel a sudden deep, crushing pain in my chest. I stumble backward, coughing. He laughs and whips the chain out again, I manage to see the next blow, but have no way of stopping it.
He manages to hit the same spot, the pain is overwhelming, my lungs feel bruised, I can’t breathe.
Francis seems to have grown bored avoiding Augustus, he pants, sucking wind as she stands in front of him.
That scar splits, not fully, but from forehead to the bridge of her nose. What’s behind it, is nothing.
I mean that in terms so literal, I can’t describe how it looked. It was more of a feeling that a sight. Looking into it, made me understand just how empty something can actually be.
Pieces of Augustus’ skin and flesh begin to, simply not exist. His look of confusion lasts for about a second before he’s sent sailing through the air by a long, whip-like arm.
The trenchcoat clad creature extracts himself from a tangled mess of tables, chairs and debris. Francis and Bill laugh, mocking us.
“Let’s trade dance partners” Augustus says, his two handed shove launching my broken body into Francis.
She catches me, her body absorbing the impact.
Fear is making me hyperventilate, physical trauma is turning that into a wheezing pant that feels like being waterboarded.
Francis looks down at me, violence and seduction in her eyes.
“Make things easy for me and I’ll let you go out with a bang. “ She says, the look of carnal violence on her face makes me gag.
Augustus struggles with Bill, the creatures wounds many and severe.
A minute remains, but I don’t know if I can last another ten seconds.
Francis stretches one arm into a thin tendril, it begins to circle me, caging me into a progressively smaller area.
“I’m sixteen, you paranormal nonce. “ I blurt out, the pain from my broken nose almost making me pass out, “ That’s the word they use around here, right? For the kind of creep that gets supernatural powers to hit on a kid? “
I can’t run, I can’t fight, all I can do is try to distract this thing for another 42 seconds.
Her face begins to turn, shifting and warping into something resembling a cattle skull more than a person.
The wet snapping noise distracts both Francis and myself.
Augustus has his hand buried in the chest of the convict, he holds the man aloft for a moment.
Augustus says something in a language I can’t even guess at, and with one fluid motion tears the black, decayed heart from his own chest and replaces it with that of the killer.
He begins to scream, then laugh, wounds spraying ichor, he seems to swell, his face a mask of pleasure and Ill intent.
“Death machine just needed a new engine. “ Augustus says with a cackle.
Francis forgets about me and lashes out, quite literally, at Augustus. Limbs becoming a frenzied blur of snaking flesh, , destroying anything they so much as graze.
He wades into the storm, flirting around the edges of the cage, making her chase him with the lethal limbs.
The conflict is a blur, but at the 23 second mark I see it. As much as I hate the prick, I’m almost impressed.
She’s tangled, somewhere among the bent stripper poles, and doorways to private booths, She’s caught herself.
Augustus takes his time now, her body is stretched thin, looped around door handles and under stages.
Ten seconds left, Augustus is feet from her writhing, blob-like form. Her features pulled taught enough to be nearly non-existent.
“Takes a lot to open yourself up doesn’t it? “ Augustus says, kneeling, he holds the killer’s knife in one hand, “ Why don’t I do it for you? “
The blade is barely touching her flesh as the timer ends.
“Fuck’s sake! “ Augustus says, standing, and letting the knife fall to the floor.
Something about the way he walks to one end of the Lucite cage worries me.
“Nobody likes a draw, but as far as they go, that was one hell of a kiss to your sister, wasn’t it folks?
No one is defeating our lovely lady of legend, but let’s hear it for the man who tried… Trenchcoat! “ The announcer screams over the loudspeaker.
The crowd is on their feet, bets are being paid out, and two groups of people are trying to open doors conveniently barred by flesh no person is going to get through.
I jog up to him, my body screaming at me every step of the way. He taps along one clear wall.
“Cheap runes. “ Augustus says, before driving his fist like a spear through the Lucite.
The hole he makes is about the size of a watermelon, his hand easily going through all six inches of the wall.
But it’s not big enough to accommodate the body of the poor twenty something he drags through.
In an instant the man is flensed, his small bones broken, eyes, ears and jaw, nothing more than a smear.
But he’s still alive, wailing a haunting death bellow as he struggles to understand what just happened.
“Stop! “ I scream, horrified. Blood sprays from my ruined nose, “You think I won’t say it? “
Augustus slowly cocks his head, punching his fist through the wall again, and tossing another victim beside the first.
“In front of your family, and that aunt of yours? You think this is bad? The shit she’ll do to you if she knows you even looked at my Dangerous Brothers looking prick of a brother will make this look like a massage.” Trenchcoat pauses, letting the reality sink in, letting my absolute lack of power envelop me like a blanket, “ You want me to stop? I’ll give you something no one else has, a choice.
Either finish one of these pieces of meat off, or, have a taste. “
He brings his hand back for another strike, and I make my choice.
No, I’m not telling you which one. I can share a lot of things with you guys. But, I’m sorry, how I picked to save the rest of the people in that place is a shame I’m going to carry on my own.
Don’t know if any of you will want to hear from me again, after knowing what I’ve had to do, who I’ve had to deal with, but I’m going to keep posting. This is getting nothing but worse, and maybe, I can save someone else the same fate.

FFM4A
WHOLESOME hangout later sa Aqua Beach Club, Angeles City.
May kotse na kami but we prefer gentlemen na may sariling kotse.
Ladies can ride with the other guy.
Girls can come too. This invitation is for anyone.
KKB and STRICTLY SFW. Bawal ang creep, bastos at manyak.
Please dm your intro and pictures. Will not entertain "hi" and "hello". No pics no reply.

https://imgur.com/a/iKNktR9
A lot of manga are in like new condition
Please comment if interested in anything, some prices are negotiable, feel free to offer!
I would consider shipping internationally (packages under 4lb preferred)
Most volumes are in great condition, will specify if not
Some volumes shown in photos have been sold in previous listings
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
COMPLETE SETS
Naruto Shadow Box Set: $400
Rurouni Kenshin 1-28 (missing 20): $175
Jojo's Parts 1+2 COMPLETE, 3 1-7 (14 vols): $175
Don't Toy With Me Nagatoro 1-14 COMPLETE: $110
Promised Neverland 1-20 COMPLETE: $90
Tokyo Ghoul 1-14 COMPLETE: $90
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
LARGE SETS
10 book Junji Ito lot: $200
Bleach 1-48 + both booklets: $200
My Hero Academia 1-31: $165
Komi Can't Communicate 1-25: $165
Vinland Saga 1-9: $140
Naruto Lot (volumes 1-23, 6 stories, Scarlet Spring, Chibi Sasuke 1-3, Hidden Leaf Headbands, Bookmarks, Poster): $140
Jujutsu Kaisen 0-19: $130
Beastars 1-16: $120
Angel Sanctuary 1-18: $120
My Dress Up Darling 1-8: $90
Seven Deadly Sins 1-18: $90
One Punch Man 1-14: $90
Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles 4-13 + 1-4 Japanese: $90
Attack On Titan 1-17: $90
Toilet Bound Hanako Kun 0-11: $90
Promised Neverland 1-20 (missing 4): $85
My Hero Academia 1-20: $85
Made in Abyss 1-9: $80
Rent a Girlfriend 1-10: $80
Hitorijime My Hero 1-10: $70
Blade of the Immortal Omnibus 1-5: $70
Is It Wrong To Try To Pick Up Girls In A Dungeon? 1-11 (light novels, some water damaged): $70
Way of the House Husband 1-9: $70
Berserk Deluxe 1-2: $70
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
SMALL/CHEAP SETS (these are priced cheaper and can only be purchased in an order totaling atleast $75)
One Punch Man 1-7, 15, 16, 18-21: $75 (faded and yellowed)
Chainsaw Man 1-11: $50
Mob Psycho 1-6 + Reigen 1: $50
Black Bird 1-9: $40
Hi-Score Girl 1-6: $40
Quintessential Quintuplets 1-9: $40
Komi Can't Communicate 1-9: $40
Perfect World 1-9: $40
Rent a GF 1-7: $30
Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan 1-2: $30
Bakemonogatari 2-3, Nisemonogatari 1-2, Kizumonogatari (Wound Tale, some water damage): $30
Welcome Back, Alice 1-4: $25
Cactus's Secret 1-4 COMPLETE: $25
One Punch Man 1-4: $20
Demon Slayer 1-5: $20
Vinland Saga 1-2: $20
Call of the Night 1-3: $15
My Hero Academia 1-4: $15
Oshi No Ko 1-2: $10
No Longer Heroine 1-2: $10
Shy 1-2: $10
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
SINGLES (These are priced cheaper and can only be purchased in an order totaling atleast $75)
Apollo's Song (Osamu Tezuka): $25
Dog Ningen Uncensored 1: $10
Soul Eater PE 1: $10
Fullmetal Alchemist Fullmetal Edition 1: $10
Orange 1: $10
Blade of the Immortal 1: $10
Ibitsu: $10
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
FREE (One can be added to purchases of atleast $200 total)
https://imgur.com/a/QfxkEZ4
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I have a ton of OP Gold Foils and misc Jojo's volumes if interested. I also have a Soul Eater Liz Funko, a Naruto Figure and a big Deku Figure, if anyone is interested
I also have some Studio Ghibli Steelbooks
I also have a complete set of One Piece Gold Foils that are in the best condition I've seen. Volumes 1-23 for $750 shipped. G5, Mint Condition, all sleeved. I know it is a lot but that is my price as I don't think it is easy to come across sets in this condition.
I also have a complete set of Inuyasha 1-56 in great condition I'd consider selling as well.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
If you are interested in anything, feel free to ask for more photos or details.
I will prioritize making larger sales.
I will only add the smaller sets/singles to a larger purchase.
Please comment and PM any interest
THANK YOU!

Dracula: World of War --- The Violet Reaper ---- Humans Don’t Make Good Familiars Book 1 ---- The Lonely World --- Discord ---- YouTube --- My Patreon --- My Author's Page --- ArcAngel98 Wiki ---- The Next Best Hero ---- HDMGF Book 2 ---- Jess and Blinx: The Wizard ---- The Questing Parties ---- Zombies ---- Previous
Suma’s POV
“Jake?” I asked, concerned that he had not spoken for a moment.
“Sorry, I was just… are ghosts real here?” He asked suddenly.
“What? Ghosts? I do not… why?”
“I think I just met one.” He said.
“By the dragons.” My mother muttered. She was not religious, but did have a healthy respect for some Ashimda values. One of which was to be weary of ghosts, since they were signs of Death Magic being used.
“So, ghosts are real here?” Jake asked, his eyes widening.
“Yes, but why do you think you have met one? Was it during the summoning?”
“Yeah, I felt something watching me. At first, I thought it was… him.” He said, glancing at my mother, since we had neglected to tell her about Deyja by order of her Majesty the Queen. My mother was preoccupied however, saying a prayer, that she probably learned from a nun when she was young, and casting a spell to Ahshem to ward against ghosts. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“According to the church, ghosts can only last for a few hours before they disappear, and no one besides you is capable of even performing such a spell. At least, not anymore, and before Harbinger, not for centuries; maybe longer.” I explained, trying to reason everything out.
“So, not a ghost?” Jake asked.
“Right…”
“You don’t sound very sure.”
“She is not.” Mother said. We were interrupted with a scratching on the outer wall of our room.
“Come in.” I announced, but there was no answer, and no one entered. Fluttering to the wall, I cast a spell, and opened a hole large enough to fly through comfortably. But rather than a Neame, a large, black and red furred, shadow-hound leapt through, and landed inside the room, frightening all of us.
“What the?!” Jake shouted, and summoned his metal garment, his armor, Jericho, as well as his sword, Mori. “Suma back up!”
On its neck, I spotted a metal ring, with the symbol of the royal family engraved on the side. “Jake, wait! This is a familiar.”
He looked the beast over for a moment, realized that it had not taken an offensive posture, and sent his weapon away, but not his armor. “It’s a gigantic black wolf with completely black eyes and red ‘go-faster’ stripes on its mouth that look like blood stains; forgive me for freaking out a bit.”
“What does it want?” Mother, who in a panic had perched herself on the other side of the room as high as she could, asked.
“Probably waffle fries.” Jake answered, sarcastically.
“Jake, if this beast kills us, I would prefer the last thing I hear to not be a joke. Especially one I do not even understand.”
“Should I tell ‘knock-knock’ jokes instead? Just to be safe.” The hound’s eyes began to glow, and it lowered its head while opening its mouth. A small wooden tablet with runes engraved on the flats dropped out of its mouth, and a voice started to speak.
“Greetings, Lady Suma and her familiar, Sentinel. Your request for an audience with Queen Ompera has been approved. Please follow this familiar. It will guide you into the palace.” A voice from nowhere said.
“Ah, a voice recording. Neat.” Jake said, just as the eyes of the familiar stopped glowing. The hound turned back to the hole in the wall and looked back at us expectantly. We were to follow it, immediately, it would seem. I widened the hole for Jake, and he walked out. We tried to leave Jake at the stable, but the hound refused to move unless he followed as well. As Jake walked behind the hound, we rode on him.
“Jake,” I started, “the next time we think our lives may be in danger, and you tell a joke to ease our tension, could it please be one I can laugh at as well?”
“Suma, I’m in my early twenties, and British. All of my jokes are centered around memes and sarcasm. If those aren’t funny to you, we’re both out of luck, because that’s all I have.”
“What is a meme?” My mother asked, and Jake spent the rest of our journey trying, and eventually failing, to explain the concept to her.
------------------------------------------------
"Oh, Another one of these, Jake?" Suma asked.
"Yup, the author has something he wants us to talk about." Jake explained, and sat on his old bed; happy to be home again, even for a few minutes.
"Oh, his platform is growing quite well. Does he perhaps want to use it to draw attention to some important event, or institution? Perhaps he wants to make a difference in some way." Suma said, landing on Jake's head and getting comfortable.
"No, Suma. The author doesn't like it when politics is used in media, so he never includes it in his own stories."
"Oh, then what could be so important that he would have us do this again? Is his new book coming out finally?!"
"It is. In fact, book 2 will be out in just a couple of weeks, but that isn't it either." Jake nodded his head, then shook it, and denied that idea as well.
"No? Then what?" Suma asked, very confused.
"A friend of the author started writing a book, and ArcAngel said he would give him a shout out."
"Really? What's the story called then?" Suma asked, surprised.
"It's called Reign of Weapons and it is available to read now on RoyalRoad." Jake said, showing her the app on his phone.
"This is very interesting." Suma flew off his head, and landed beside him to begin reading.
"Huh, I really thought you'd use this new non-cannon opportunity to use a few more contractions..." Jake pointed out, and set the phone down beside Suma.
Her head whipped around suddenly. "Oh no! I forgot to! Do we still have time?"

Dracula: World of War --- The Violet Reaper ---- Humans Don’t Make Good Familiars Book 1 ---- The Lonely World --- Discord ---- YouTube --- My Patreon --- My Author's Page --- ArcAngel98 Wiki ---- The Next Best Hero ---- HDMGF Book 2 ---- Jess and Blinx: The Wizard ---- The Questing Parties ---- Zombies ---- Previous
Suma’s POV
“Jake?” I asked, concerned that he had not spoken for a moment.
“Sorry, I was just… are ghosts real here?” He asked suddenly.
“What? Ghosts? I do not… why?”
“I think I just met one.” He said.
“By the dragons.” My mother muttered. She was not religious, but did have a healthy respect for some Ashimda values. One of which was to be weary of ghosts, since they were signs of Death Magic being used.
“So, ghosts are real here?” Jake asked, his eyes widening.
“Yes, but why do you think you have met one? Was it during the summoning?”
“Yeah, I felt something watching me. At first, I thought it was… him.” He said, glancing at my mother, since we had neglected to tell her about Deyja by order of her Majesty the Queen. My mother was preoccupied however, saying a prayer, that she probably learned from a nun when she was young, and casting a spell to Ahshem to ward against ghosts. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“According to the church, ghosts can only last for a few hours before they disappear, and no one besides you is capable of even performing such a spell. At least, not anymore, and before Harbinger, not for centuries; maybe longer.” I explained, trying to reason everything out.
“So, not a ghost?” Jake asked.
“Right…”
“You don’t sound very sure.”
“She is not.” Mother said. We were interrupted with a scratching on the outer wall of our room.
“Come in.” I announced, but there was no answer, and no one entered. Fluttering to the wall, I cast a spell, and opened a hole large enough to fly through comfortably. But rather than a Neame, a large, black and red furred, shadow-hound leapt through, and landed inside the room, frightening all of us.
“What the?!” Jake shouted, and summoned his metal garment, his armor, Jericho, as well as his sword, Mori. “Suma back up!”
On its neck, I spotted a metal ring, with the symbol of the royal family engraved on the side. “Jake, wait! This is a familiar.”
He looked the beast over for a moment, realized that it had not taken an offensive posture, and sent his weapon away, but not his armor. “It’s a gigantic black wolf with completely black eyes and red ‘go-faster’ stripes on its mouth that look like blood stains; forgive me for freaking out a bit.”
“What does it want?” Mother, who in a panic had perched herself on the other side of the room as high as she could, asked.
“Probably waffle fries.” Jake answered, sarcastically.
“Jake, if this beast kills us, I would prefer the last thing I hear to not be a joke. Especially one I do not even understand.”
“Should I tell ‘knock-knock’ jokes instead? Just to be safe.” The hound’s eyes began to glow, and it lowered its head while opening its mouth. A small wooden tablet with runes engraved on the flats dropped out of its mouth, and a voice started to speak.
“Greetings, Lady Suma and her familiar, Sentinel. Your request for an audience with Queen Ompera has been approved. Please follow this familiar. It will guide you into the palace.” A voice from nowhere said.
“Ah, a voice recording. Neat.” Jake said, just as the eyes of the familiar stopped glowing. The hound turned back to the hole in the wall and looked back at us expectantly. We were to follow it, immediately, it would seem. I widened the hole for Jake, and he walked out. We tried to leave Jake at the stable, but the hound refused to move unless he followed as well. As Jake walked behind the hound, we rode on him.
“Jake,” I started, “the next time we think our lives may be in danger, and you tell a joke to ease our tension, could it please be one I can laugh at as well?”
“Suma, I’m in my early twenties, and British. All of my jokes are centered around memes and sarcasm. If those aren’t funny to you, we’re both out of luck, because that’s all I have.”
“What is a meme?” My mother asked, and Jake spent the rest of our journey trying, and eventually failing, to explain the concept to her.
------------------------------------------------
"Oh, Another one of these, Jake?" Suma asked.
"Yup, the author has something he wants us to talk about." Jake explained, and sat on his old bed; happy to be home again, even for a few minutes.
"Oh, his platform is growing quite well. Does he perhaps want to use it to draw attention to some important event, or institution? Perhaps he wants to make a difference in some way." Suma said, landing on Jake's head and getting comfortable.
"No, Suma. The author doesn't like it when politics is used in media, so he never includes it in his own stories."
"Oh, then what could be so important that he would have us do this again? Is his new book coming out finally?!"
"It is. In fact, book 2 will be out in just a couple of weeks, but that isn't it either." Jake nodded his head, then shook it, and denied that idea as well.
"No? Then what?" Suma asked, very confused.
"A friend of the author started writing a book, and ArcAngel said he would give him a shout out."
"Really? What's the story called then?" Suma asked, surprised.
"It's called Reign of Weapons and it is available to read now on RoyalRoad." Jake said, showing her the app on his phone.
"This is very interesting." Suma flew off his head, and landed beside him to begin reading.
"Huh, I really thought you'd use this new non-cannon opportunity to use a few more contractions..." Jake pointed out, and set the phone down beside Suma.
Her head whipped around suddenly. "Oh no! I forgot to! Do we still have time?"