#under readmore for length

[drgemmadawnnightingale]

The Gentle Dr. Nightingale

October 10, 1993

Primary Labs, Recovery Wing

6:05 AM

Gemma flipped through the paperwork on her clipboard as she walked through the hallway, confident that there were no obstacles in her way. She was heading to the elevator back to the upper levels, having visited a patient and was satisfied with his care. Her eyes were still lowered while she patted a pocket of her labcoat to locate a pen and mark something down, feeling aware of her surroundings, letting herself get distracted with her thoughts as her hand fumbled in the pocket for a few seconds.

A few seconds was all it took.

"Miss Nightingale?"

The voice from behind her caused Gemma to yelp and spin around to look behind her. There was a gentle clatter of a pen on the ground as Gemma looked up to the person next to her. Another human, female, roughly her age with long brown hair. The other lab coated researcher gave an embarrassed chuckle as she bent down to pick up the fallen pen and hand it back to Gemma.

"Dear God, you startled me, Dr. Newman." Dr. Gemma Dawn Nightingale chuckled, accepting the pen back from her associate. "That's what I get for being lost in thought. Also, it's Doctor Nightingale."

"You're a psychologist, not a doctor." Dr. Jessica Newman insisted. Dr Gemma's smile never faultered.

"All of my necessary paperwork is on file if you want to see it." She invited. "I've earned my title. Anyway, what's going on? How can I help you, Dr. Newman?"

"I wanted to ask about your involvement in the Bigger Bodies Initiative. If you insist on working with the experiments directly, we need to know what protective measures you're going to need going foreword."

This was a fair question. Gemma straightened up her paperwork and hugged her clipboard to her chest.

"I'm heading to the main elevator if you'd like to walk with me and talk." she invited. "But I thought I made it clear on the approval forms, so why ask directly?"

"Because I need to be sure you know what you're doing." Dr. Newman insisted as the two women walked down the long hallway to the elevator. "You need some form of protection when dealing with these things. If you go in empty handed, you will be eaten alive. I've seen it."

"So have I." Dr. Gemma gave a few nods as she lamented this. "Well, Dr. Newman, I couldn't help but notice that the status quo was already killing enough staff, as well as making the toys angry and depressed. A change was desperately needed. And the only method I've noticed that no one has used so far was--"

"--joining hands and singing Kumbaya while playing patty cake until snack time?!" Jessica snapped, prompting Gemma to turn to the woman on her heel again, looking more shocked by the outburst than annoyed at being interrupted.

"...kindness. Treating them like fellow co-workers, in the least. Fostering trust that we have their best interest at heart. Because what is all of this for if we treat them like monsters, wild animals.... or worse? Your team made them what they are, and put them here, so you tell me--"

"You know the answers to those questions. I don't have to justify them to you, Miss Nightingale." Gemma frowned at the wrong title being given to her again, but Jessica continued. "Let me put it to you this way: your mindset is dangerous, not to this project but to yourself. The experiments know how to sniff out weaknesses, and your way of thinking is blood in the water. This program won't work, and most of the team is counting down the days when you walk right into the lion's jaws."

"You really think that would happen to me?" Gemma wondered.

"It's happened to better, and worse." Jessica gave a nod. "Or, you could just disappear into thin air one day, like so many of us have." She gave Gemma a very pointed look, to emphasize that this wasn't just an act of the experiments alone.

Gemma merely blinked a couple of times in response, until movement just over Jessica's shoulder caught her gaze. Gemma's head turned up to it, and gave a happy smile and chirp at the familiar face.

"Hi, kitty! What are you doing out of your room?" Gemma cooed.

Jessica froze. There was only one experiment Gemma ever called that, and it was the exact one Jessica would rather jump into a pit than face his bad side. Gingerly, Jessica turned her head to look at the corner of her eye at the toy standing just behind her, silent as the dead, white eyes shining in its black sockets, a wide, permanent smile on his face.

Experiment 1188, Catnap, stared at Jessica as Gemma casually waved a free hand to him to her side.

"...Dr. Newman..." Catnap acknowledged, moving to the left side of the hallway which caused Jessica to flinch to the right. The fact that an experiment had gotten out of his cell, no alarms were blaring or people were alerted, was all it took for her face to go completely pale. The sight in front of her almost made it worse as Catnap went right to Dr. Gemma's side and lowered his head for her to pet him. The good doctor just cooed at him as though he was a beloved pet.

"Now what are you doing out of your room?" Gemma asked as she gave his forehead gentle strokes of the fingers.

"Feeling better." Catnap answered with as few words as possible.

"That's good to hear, but you still need to be in recovery just in case. Can you stick it out for one more day? I'll have some cookies ready for you when you come back to Playcare, okay?"

"Yes."

Jessica continued to watch in astonishment as Gemma then gave Catnap a couple of scratches under his chin, prompting his gentle purring. Gemma then turned to Jessica, her cheery smile dropping slightly from her dimples.

"I certainly hope I'm not going to disappear one day, Dr. Newman. Not when I've made so many friends here at Playtime."

Jessica could have sworn she saw a smug glint in Gemma's eyes before she walked back down the hallway with Catnap just behind, taking the bigger body back to his room. Dr. Newman's head started to spin at what she had witnesses. Did Dr. Gemma befriend the toys for her own protections? Or... was this simply the product of a very naive plan?

She needed to make a note of this. Maybe something in Ms. Gracie's program needed to change and adapt to this as well.

[nonalgebraist]

What can be done if Trump is openly defying the courts?

Not much, at least not within the legal system.

real asf Gödel's loophole hours frfr 💯💯

A litigant cannot simply defy a court order because they think it is wrong. Under normal circumstances, a party that defies a court order can be held in contempt of court and be subject to fines, imprisonment, or other sanctions. But it’s far from clear whether such a contempt order could be enforced if Trump is determined to give the middle finger to the judiciary. As Alexander Hamilton wrote in the Federalist Papers, the courts “may truly be said to have neither FORCE nor WILL, but merely judgment; and must ultimately depend upon the aid of the executive arm even for the efficacy of its judgments.” Federal court orders, including contempt of court orders, are enforced by the US Marshals Service, a law enforcement agency housed in the Executive Branch of government. So Trump could potentially order the Marshals to not enforce any court order against his administration. If that happens, there are few legal mechanisms remaining to make Trump obey the law. The obvious remedy for a president who commits serious legal violations and refuses to comply with court orders against him is impeachment. But, even if a Republican US House would agree to impeach Trump — a highly unlikely proposition — it takes 67 votes in the Senate to remove a president. And the Senate couldn’t even find 67 votes to declare Trump ineligible for the presidency after he incited a mob to attack the US Capitol in 2020. For now, at least, [...] it remains to be seen whether the Trump administration can plausibly argue that its behavior is legal. If it turns out that the administration is determined to violate court orders it does not like, however, then it is likely that the legal system has run out of tools to check Donald Trump.

Vox on March 17, 2025

[a-hell-of-a-time-archive]

New OC: Yukitaka

Note: This OC will be by request only, and I'll only be rp'ing as him with interested parties. He, like Caim will not be forced upon other rp'ers, and nor does anyone who interacts with Andrealphus need to interact/accept Yuki.

Honestly this is a self indulgent fankid that I want to test out.

Name: Yukitaka (meaning Noble Snow)

Nicknames: Yuki, hellspawn,

Parents: Andrealphus (father), Caim (mother), Yui (mother)

Age: Infant - toddler (main verse); 15 going on 16 (I Got Teleported To the Past to Fulfill My Destiny in Hell)

The following is for the I Got Teleported To the Past to Fulfill My Destiny in Hell verse

Orientation: Gay

Likes: fighting, swordsmanship, hanging out with his friends, festivals, soccer, parkour, snowboarding, Chikao (his boyfriend, a nekomata), the cold

Dislikes: Ryuu (rival, dragon youkai), goetian politics, the heat,

Occupation: Precautionary heir (illegitimate), next great marquis

Personality: (Note: This is a heavy WIP since he's a new OC that's still being fleshed out)

Loud, brash, brazen (a quick tongue that has gotten him into plenty of trouble) and confident to the point of arrogance are just some of the adjectives used to describe Yuki. He is not afraid to call things as he sees it, nor afraid to speak up for himself should the situation warrant it. He is equal parts of both parents when it comes to his attitude and fearlessness, caring little for the intricacies of goetian decorum in favour of pursuing his own interests.

He can be rash at times, especially when faced with something that catches his interests. He is known for getting swept up easily in his emotions and the adrenaline rush of a good fight, or the height of a soccer game, or when participating in sports that Caim has considered reckless and which threaten to put her in an early grave.

When it comes to his combat skills, Yuki is quite proud and fearless; he won't hesitate to challenge opponents stronger than him, and will meet any challenge head on. This has led to him often rushing in, sometimes without thinking, and ending up with more than his fair share of injuries.

Despite this, Yuki is highly intelligent, a good strategist and has a good heart that looks out for the people he cares for the most, such as his friends and family. He isn't one for injustice and if someone has wronged him or his loved ones, he won't hesitate to make things right or settle the score.

Tl;dr: This kid is a cocky little shit who is too smart for his own good and runs his mouth like nothing else. He's also the kid that will help you in a pinch while also threatening to fight any enemies of yours. Or anyone in general if they're strong enough. He may/may not value his own safety and is a bit too reckless.

He means well though.

History: Born to the Great Marquis, Andrealphus, and the former Great President of Hell, Caim, Yukitaka is a goetian with the blood of his tengu (youkai) ancestors running through his veins. His birth was shrouded in secrecy, and he spends most of his days living with his mothers just outside of Tokyo. He attends one of the local high schools and is the top student, as well as one of the stars of his school's soccer team.

Approaching his 16th birthday, Yuki awakened his cryokinetic powers, prompting Caim to reveal his goetian heritage. She also explained how, once he turns eighteen, Yuki will have to choose between following in his father's footsteps, or remaining in the human world.

To prepare for this future decision, Yuki started splitting his time between his father's mansion in Hell, and his family home in the human world. While at his father's he trains to master the demonic abilities inherited from his father, along with the ins and outs of goetian politics, all the while remaining hidden from the Ars Goetia at large. While in the human world, Yuki continues with his studies in the hopes of graduating high school with his friends.

Should he make the decision to follow in his father's footsteps, he would be initiated into the Ars Goetia, and his identity revealed to the nobility at large. Should he stay in the human world, he would have to continue living among humans and taking on mundane jobs all the while hiding his identity and abilities.

More TBA.

Powers/Abilities:

Cryokinesis: Can manipulate ice and snow for a wide variety of uses (offence - weapons; defence - shields; weather manipulation (can cause blizzards, drop the temperature to sub zero, etc.)

Extreme Speed: Can move as fast as any tengu, appearing as a blur to the untrained eye.

Swordsmanship

High endurance

Weapon of choice: Katana

Verses:

Normal Verse: Yuki is born and Andrealphus struggles to be a dad while hiding the child's existence from Paimon. Shenanigans ensue.

I Got Teleported To the Past to Fulfill My Destiny in Hell: Gusion (keeperofanswers) showed Andrealphus many books, each covering alternative lives based on choices made, and not. One of the books was triggered by magic, and Yuki manifested from its pages as if it were a portal. He is now living with his father in Hell while trying to figure out a way to get back to his own time.

[veiled-lady]

Starter for Silco @jynxd

Most prayers from this year brought forth a single name to her attention: Silco. A rising kingpin in the Undercity and a supposed ruthless menace to its stability and peace. Morgana was no god with the omniscient ability to simply think a name and see their truths and lies. Morgana needed to work diligently, scout and seek herself so that she may get close to her target. Morgana traversed the Undercity in her mortal guise for three days. She quickly noted the shift in the Undercity's attitude from the last year to this one. She sensed... fear more frequently, among desires for retribution, and a longing for freedom.

She had heard whispers here and there about current ongoings but there was only so much anyone would dare share in the presence of an outsider. Much less one as odd as her in her Demacian garbs and bag of herbal wares. She was left alone, mostly, and caught warried or accusing stares. Her only goal was to scout the area that Silco was said to frequent. She would hunt him this night.

Morgana moved like a haunting ghost, swift and silent as the night breeze. Her chains were soundless, and her steps left no trace as she glided with nimble grace from shadow to shadow. She did not want spectators. She would wait until he was alone. She patiently stalked as he made his way from the Last Drop, down the twisting streets to a spot by a statue that seemed sufficiently secluded.

There was always a risk that she would be spotted. The Veiled Lady's presence in Zaun would be a complication and potential affront to Janna if she overstepped. This was why Morgana decided to take a form more fitting to the Undercity and its superstitions. Her dark hair was long and framed her face. She wore a tattered black dress covered in dark chains which her wings were also bound by. Heavy shackles burdened her wrists and her fingers were sharp and talon-like. The skin upon her forearms and ankles sprouted feathers as dark as her wings. She tried to pass as a Vastaya so that this description was unlikely be connected to the Veiled Lady.

A dark mist surrounded her steps when she finally emerged from the darkness. Her eyes were calm, hair disheveled as she slowly approached with the sound of rattling chains. Black, pupilless eyes settled upon the man. Before Silco had a chance to escape, she raised a hand and conjured a sphere of dark magic. She threw it at him and purple chains manifested on the ground beneath his feet, reaching upwards to twist around his legs and keep him bound. Another pair shot upwards and seized his wrists. They had an odd warmth to them from the dark energy that pulsed from within. Morgana's magic sought the soul.

"I circle you within your sins, Silco, to see your truth through your suffering. You have been accused, and I will see if you must repent." she announced. Her voice was calm and soothing but had a layer of ethereal distortion to it. Morgana stepped closer, barefoot, and her chains rattled heavily as she stood just a few steps away from him.

Her chains glowed as Morgana forged a connection. She wanted to sense his sins for herself before she decided what he deserved. Her dark eyes glowed as she sought his negative emotions of sorrow, anger, hatred, wrath. Morgana could not view memories, she did not think it was necessary. A mortal's emotions and intents were far more telling of their history and recollections.

Her expression contorted in a reflection of his summed agony as she drank in his corruption. She indeed found the emotions that justified the accusation, but there was a complexity to it. It was never simple to deduce someone a villain. Humans were complex.

"What is it do people think I need to repent for?" His question came as an unexpected surprise, but a worthy one. She paused her connection and her expression relaxed somewhat. There was more she had yet to see, but what she had sensed so far left her very curious. She had felt much anger... but also a desire for justice, similar to what she had sensed in the Demacian Mages who had willingly sought Morgana's judgement. She had also felt something she knew all too well: betrayal.

She tilted her head at an odd angle and simply gazed at him. Her dark eyes looked over his features. He must have endured much, to now look this way. Tired with half his face scarred. "They accuse you of cruelty. Of hurting others needlessly to seize power in the Undercity. They call you a heartless monster" in a sharp jolt, her head raised. "Have you something to say to this accusation?"

[veiled-lady]

Cupcake - Caitlyn

Morgana greeted Caitlyn with a warm smile. Her expression brightened with delight, and demanded no rationale for the surge of joy she felt when she greeted Caitlyn. It was an odd parental-like instinct for the childless, ancient being that herself never experienced maternal affection.

"Caitlyn, it is always a pleasure to see you. I could try to bake anything you'd ask, but if I were to select just one special treat for this day...." Morgana folded her arms over her chest as she gave it some thought. She had watched young Kiramman grow over the years throughout her visits to Piltover, per her duties as the Veiled Lady. Caitlyn had become a staple to her visits in recent years and had made these once dreadful trips much more memorable. Morgana genuinely enjoyed her company, and she saw a bright promise in Caitlyn's future that she could confidently claim few humans possessed. Caitlyn was someone worth risking her own inevitable heartache for. She would not think of it, for now.

"You've likely had a variety of luxurious deserts because of your status in Piltover. They may even be beyond my talent to replicate. I think I shall make you something that you've never had before, something rare to Piltover". Demacian goods were likely available in Piltover because of their trade agreements, so that would not suffice... but sweets from an older age, from Morgana's distant youth should be rare.

"I shall make you a treat from my own childhood. My father once made it for me when all seemed dreadful and when the sun's light felt cold." Back during the rune-wars when they still resided on the relatively safe foothills of Mount Targon. Morgana was but a young and terrified child among many. Her father had to trade pelts and furs for the commodities required of the recipe.

Morgana's expression creased to a bittersweet smile. She remembered the comforting taste from the ghost of her memories, but the experience of warmth and joy was one she could never replicate with her own recipe. She was left to savor the comforting memory, which faded at the edges with each passing year. Her reminiscence was a brief flicker of emotion on her otherwise calm expression.

"It may seem rustic, but I promise it is good. The cake part is a flaky pastry that is made by layering many thin layers of wheat flour and butter. It goes over a milk, cinnamon, vanilla, and egg-based custard. After it is baked, a lemon-honey syrup is poured over it. It is sweet and delicious. Ibik milk from Targon will work best in this recipe"

// Since I think Targon is inspired by Greece, I picked Galaktoboureko as the pastry :)

[jovialjuggernaut-draws]

“where did you get that idea from?" Arkhamverse

 "Where did you get that idea from?"

Bruce shrugged, continuing to sift through the database. "Came across a lead while I was out. Did you need something?" 

Alfred set down the tea service Bruce wouldn't be drinking, folding his arms behind his back. "It simply seems to me that you're coming across quite a few leads with precious little explanation these days. Almost as though you have obtained the sudden ability to be in two places at once."

Bruce flinched. "It's nothing for you to be concerned about. I've just been on a good streak. It's been more important to move between leads quickly than to keep you updated." 

"I… see." Alfred's jaw tightened. "Well, should you elect to keep me updated again, you know where to find me." 

And then Bruce was alone.

"Yeesh, that was hard to hear. Are you always that bad at lying?" 

Well, at least, as alone as he ever was these days. 

"He's getting wise," Bruce remarked. 

On the other end of the headset, Edward laughed. "Do I need to apologize for being too efficient an accomplice? Perhaps you'd prefer I pretend to suffer the same shortcomings as the rest of the semi-sentient species of simian roaming the streets of Gotham, hmm? You do always seem to prefer toting around the most brainless bimbo of the party as accessories, after all."

"I prefer you as-is," Bruce admitted, voice lowered covertly, as though he were in any danger of being overheard. 

Edward made a choked little noise into the headset, clearing his throat for a long minute to awkwardly compose himself. "Right. Well. What do you propose we do about your busybody butler, then?"

"You could always come clean," Bruce suggested, already knowing it would be shot down as it had been several times before. "Ally with me more officially, and I can properly credit all your contributions." 

"I- You know I can't," Edward hesitated. "I'd lose my connections if they knew what I was using them for." 

"I know," Bruce sighed. 

"You could tell him, regardless," Edward tried. "Your usual repertoire already includes shady activities. Why not admit to a shady deal with a shady character?"

"He would try to intervene," Bruce explained. "Besides which, you just heard how bad I am at lying to him and, well… he wants me to settle down. Properly. If he discovered… my attachment to you…" 

Edward was quiet for a long moment. "...Would that be such a bad thing? For him to… know?" 

Bruce swallowed heavily, glancing down the tunnel Alfred had departed to. "I… I'm afraid of losing you. If it were to become a point of contention between he and I, it may drive a wedge between the two of us, as well." 

"Is that what you think the most likely outcome is, then? That he'd be… angry with you, or- or disgusted?" 

"...No," Bruce admitted, "but it is the worst-case scenario."

Edward laughed, more rueful than amused. "And you do love to catastrophize." 

"It's a bad habit," Bruce mourned. 

"Well, then, what do you think is the most likely scenario?"

"Most likely… he's miffed that I hid something from him, says something unkind about my choice in allies, and then… respects my decision. Maybe even warms up to you, eventually, though… you know you don't make that easy on people." 

"I'm an acquired taste, one too refined for the average palate," Edward preened. 

"Or maybe there's just something wrong with my taste buds," Bruce teased. 

"Ass," Edward huffed. "Regardless of whether he does eventually find me as endearing as you do, it would still get rid of that secret between you. You could stop stressing over it. And more selfishly, of course… I don't particularly enjoy being anyone's dirty little secret. I quite like to be shown off." 

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Bruce teased, and Edward's laugh at that was significantly more genuine. "Alright, then, you win. I'll let him know where all this intel is suddenly coming from. In return, you promise me to actually show up, should he invite you over for dinner." 

"You think he will?" 

"If only to pass judgment and make passive-aggressive comments. It's his one joy in life." 

"I can't wait."

[feuglace]

Vampirism.

Every bloodline of vampirism has its own quirks, abilities, weaknesses and strengths - some weaker and some more deranged than others. Laurant stems from the original bloodline, the one believed to be the first instance of vampirism in his realm.

While naturally he is more adept at physical activity such as climbing, navigating heavily wooded settings and sprinting for long spans of time, his vampirism enhanced his capabilities with magic allowing him easier grasp of the craft. It is the reason he could lean so heavily into magic despite not showing the same fortitude as tree-singers or wardens, with the intricacies of magic catching his attention far more than the art of wielding blade or bow.

The Lamae bloodline carries with it extra skills that other bloodlines lack and is considered one of the most powerful, however Laurant was not an original changed by Lamae herself and therefore his blood is more diluted. Not being of pure descent his abilities and strengths are far more diminished than those higher in the family tree.

Strengths.

Enhanced senses; scent, auditory and touch are far more pronounced and sensitive

Magic proficiency and strength increased, with further practice further raising his capabilities

The sun does not burn his skin (so long as he is well fed), only causing irritability and lessened proficiency in magic and vigor

Fire isn’t as strong a force against him (so long as he is well fed), cutting the effectiveness for most vampires in half (x2 instead of x4 weakness, for example)

Frost/Cold resistance; he feels the cold far less than mortals but can still feel the deeper drops that some bloodlines don’t feel at all

Weaknesses.

Lessened sense of sight; sight sacrificed for the enhancement of other senses much like a bat. He is not blind, but can’t see as well as he used to

Cannot blend in perfectly; while he does not suffer some of the more alien appearance changes he is still very obviously undead. Pale, cold skin, bright red eyes that reflect light and glow faintly in the dark and increased incisors/canines spell out the very common vampiric tropes

Increased auditory and scent senses make him weak to loud noise and strong smells; funny enough garlic (and onion) will keep him at a distance only because the smells are sickening to him

Fire; it still deals twice the damage to his body as it would a mortal, however this weakness only increases the more bloodstarved he becomes

Sunlight; another that is affected by how much he feeds

Recovery; while bloodstarved none of his wounds will ever heal.

Feeding.

Feeding is important for Laurant for many reasons. Staying well fed steels him against many traditional weaknesses to vampires such as contact with sunlight and fire, avoids the potential of going feral and allows his body to heal from damage. The more bloodstarved he is, the weaker he is. When bloodstarved his eyes change; pupils go white and his sclera begin to go a deep red instead of black.

When well fed Laurant is far more courteous and easy to talk to, and if he ever is to feed he never drains his “prey”. On the other hand, when he is bloodstarved he is more likely to attack anything that crosses his path and will drain his victims dry. Bloodstarvation also causes sunlight to actively burn his skin like fire, his body is more susceptible to flame and no matter how long a wound can be bandaged and cared for it will never heal. In order to heal at such a stage he must feed; often feeding itself will heal his wounds substantially and the rest will continue to heal over time similar to mortal bodies.

The greatest risk to him and the thing he fears the most, however, is going feral. To go feral leaves him empty, his existence similar to that of a voidsent in that he lives to feed. It is impossible to come back from this as the mind is completely lost to starvation; thankfully it is a very slow change that requires him to go without blood for months.

Prey.

While mortal races are a preferred source of blood, this doesn’t mean that he cannot feed on animals. The downside to living solely off of animal blood is how brief it sates his thirst and how little it sates in the first place; to be completely fed he requires far more beasts than the occasional safe amount from a human. The easiest method to receive blood is via pact or contract, however with him finding himself in a world wholly unfamiliar he is more likely to steal blood from sleeping victims via the wrist or from critters outside than to strike up a contract with a stranger.

[arcadiaoaksusedbooks]

Nadia: Angor, I need you to please talk to Balor. He won’t listen to me, maybe he’ll listen to you.

Balor: *sniffling and looking upset*

Angor: *carving, looks to them and says nothing*

Nadia: We used his human glamour to go downtown today, to get him to work off his lazy foot and just be out of the house for a while. His human glamour has headphones, because loud noises and crowds still scare him.

Angor: *listens*

Nadia: This woman walks up and said she wants to buy Balor’s headphones. We... can’t really do that, because it’s part of his glamour but she didn’t need to know that. I tried to tell her where she could buy a pair for herself, but she insisted on buying the ones Balor was wearing. When I told her no, she just snatched them off of his head and tried walking away with them!

Angor: *eyes still locked on Nadia, nearly makes a bad cut in his carving* ... *looks to Balor, who’s hiding behind Nadia shamefully*

Nadia: It made Balor start crying, and I don’t blame him for that, it scared and hurt him! I chased her down, took the headphones back and yelled at her for stealing from a child! We’re arguing once I give Balor his headphones back, about how she’s a terrible person and how she said she deserves them for her kids and she doesn’t have money for them despite her stupid perm and her expensive clothes and her overtanned--

Angor: Nadja.

Nadia: Sorry. So we’re yelling in public, and Balor just... I took my eyes off him so I didn’t notice... He...

Balor: *about to start crying again*

Nadia: HE JUST PUNCHED HER IN THE BACK OF THE KNEECAP! JUST... PUNCHED! SHE FELL OVER RIGHT ONTO HER BACK AND HE JUST RAN! WE DIDN’T STOP UNTIL WE GOT BACK TO THE CAR!

Angor: *looks at Balor*

Balor: *feels like he’s in huge trouble*

Angor: Come out, child.

Nadia: *nudges Balor foreword*

Balor: *comes out, but shrinks back, knowing he’s in trouble*

Angor: You punched and knocked over an old woman?

Balor: *shaking* ....uh-huh.

Angor: *stops carving long enough to pat him on the head* Good job.

Nadia: *shocked* Angor!

Angor: He stopped a thief. He detests violence and yet acted out when the need arose. Why punish him for this?

Nadia: Because violence isn’t the answer! As much as I would have liked to hurt her, we were in human form! That’s not how it works in the human world! You can’t just walk up to someone and hit them!

Angor: *goes back to carving* You are right. You don’t hit a human thief.

Nadia: ...that’s right.

Angor: *troll face* You kill them.

Nadia: I.... NO!

Angor: *looks to Balor* Next time, kill them.

Balor: *wide eyed, has no idea what’s going on anymore*

Nadia: *covers Balor’s ears* No! We don’t just kill people for small crimes either!

Angor: Ah. You’re right. Humans don’t kill thieves.

Nadia: *suspicious*

Angor: *she’s right to be* You cut their arm off.

Nadia: NO! NO ONE DOES THAT ANYMORE!

Angor: *looks to Balor* You stood up for yourself and took back your property. Good job. Keep doing that.

Nadia: Stop not helping!

Balor: ...I’m not in trouble?