I Felt Like I Needed To Clarify Some Things Before We Could Continue Any More Conversations On This Godforsaken

A man is driving down the road and breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, “My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?” The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man is disappointed but thanks them anyway and goes about his merry way. Some years later, the same man breaks down in front of the same monastery. The monks accept him, feed him, even fix his car. That night, he hears the same strange noise that he had heard years earlier. The next morning, he asks what it is, but the monks reply, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man says, “All right, all right. I’m *dying* to know. If the only way I can find out what that sound was is to become a monk, how do I become a monk?” The monks reply, “You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of sand pebbles. When you find these numbers, you will become a monk.” The man sets about his task. Forty-five years later, he returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. He says, “I have traveled the earth and have found what you have asked for. There are 145,236,284,232 blades of grass and 231,281,219,999,129,382 sand pebbles on the earth.” The monks reply, “Congratulations. You are now a monk. We shall now show you the way to the sound.” The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, “The sound is right behind that door.” The man reaches for the knob, but the door is locked. He says, “Real funny. May I have the key?” The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man demands the key to the stone door. The monks give him the key, and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. He demands another key from the monks, who provide it. Behind that door is another door, this one made of sapphire. So it went until the man had gone through doors of emerald, silver, topaz, and amethyst. Finally, the monks say, “This is the last key to the last door.” The man is relieved to no end. He unlocks the door, turns the knob, and behind that door he is amazed to find the source of that strange sound. But I can’t tell you what it is because you’re not a monk

Hello skinny tgirl. Lately you've been complaining that your tits aren't growing. In front of you is a plate of food.

@mispronounced-minecraft-block

It would have been easy to miss her if Barry hadn't been keeping an eye out. She wore a dark cloak with a silver clasp and had her hood drawn up over her head. The crowded streets of Neverwinter— Neverwinter, why was he in Neverwinter again?— pushed them past each other but for a moment, they caught eyes. He got the shortest glimpse of her face, aged, and stressed, and focused— and then recognition. Surprise.

He knew her. No, he didn't.

Fuck, wait, yes he did.

So Barry did something he had recently discovered he was very good at doing: He ran. The crowd helped him along, pushing him forward as he stumbled over his own two feet. He kept his head low, trying to get cover from the people around him. He crossed the street, and then went left, and crossed the street again, trying to drown himself into the crowd. He kept going until he was reasonably sure that he had lost her and then ducked into an alleyway.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Barry twisted his bag, fumbling for his inhaler. Good fuckin' Gods. This day and gone from bad to worse. He took a hit of it (and someone in his head told him to stop saying that he "took a hit" of his medication) and leaned against the alley wall, trying to breathe deeply again.

He dug through his bag, finding the little gold coin he kept with him. He was… gods, Barry wished he knew what was happening anymore. But he couldn't— he couldn't lose focus. He was looking for someone. He was supposed to be looking for someone, but, well, this attempt had hit a dead end. And, for the first time (?), Barry had come across the person who was looking for him.

He pressed a little notch on the coin, flipping back through old recorded messages until he found the right one. The coin buzzed a little, like a staticky radio line, but crackled to life with a message in Barry's own voice. One he didn't remember leaving, but he knew the words by heart by now. They were important.

"— and— and another thing— there's this… Geez, I don't wanna call it an issue, but it's kinda an issue. There's a— there's a woman looking for you. Not the one we wanna find. On purpose, I mean. God, I hate this. It's making her sound like some sorta villain and she's no— well…"

The coin sighed.

"Her name is Lucretia." There was a shuffling noise in the background of the recording, as if someone was adjusting papers. "She's— she's part of the family you don't remember. But it's— I can't stress enough how much of a no-go talking to her is. Like, even more than the others, so, so much more. In fact, if you ever see her just— I don't know, just fuckin' run, I guess. That's— Gods."

The coin was silent for a moment. Barry took another puff of his inhaler.

"There's nothing good that you can get by talking to her right now," the coin continued. "And if you talk to her, she might— I mean, I don't think she'd do anything to you besides talk, but that's— that's enough sometimes, y'know? She's… she's the reason we're in this mess. Why we can't remember ###—" Barry winced at the static. "I don't— I can't physically explain what she did, but don't— don't talk to her. If you see her, just run. Just go."

The coin went on to describe some of Lucretia's features— her eyes, the white hair, her age ("—because she wouldn't fucking listen to me about Wonderland and #### ###### ##—"). Barry thought back to the glance he had caught of the woman he passed by and just barely managed to swallow his fear about it. He hit the notch on the coin again, shutting it off. Sometimes, it would delve into static for a while, especially when talking about Lucreita. He put the coin back in his bag, along with his inhaler.

He peeked back into the streets and then pulled back into the alley. He could still slightly see from his space between the buildings, but hopefully, she couldn't see him.

Lucretia had lowered her hood, and was looking around. The crowd had thinned some, just enough for her to stand in place without being pushed around. But her eyes never found his hiding spot and, after a moment, an orc woman jogged up to her. Barry could barely hear them over the hustle and bustle of Neverwinter, but he caught wind of,

"— just started running! What gives?"

"I thought I saw…" Lucretia scanned the area once more. Barry scooted back a bit to hide himself, holding his breath. "No, it was nothing. It's— I'm a just little on edge today, I suppose."

It was obvious the orc woman didn't believe her, but she must have known Lucretia enough to not question it. Or at least, not to publicly question it.

"You're gonna be late for your meeting," the orc woman said after a moment's pause.

Lucretia turned and while Barry couldn't hear the curse word, it startled a laugh from the orc woman. They retreated back the way they had come. Barry sighed, relaxing a little.

Okay. Okay, time to regroup. Refocus. Once he felt it was safe, he stepped back into the street again, carefully retracing his steps to regain his bearings. From here, he'd go to Farnfoss. There was an enchanted forest that supposedly protected some powerful magic items— it was a better lead than nothing.

As long as he made it there alive, at least.

be free!!

doodles

Penny and her eeveelutions

credit: mikripkm on X

HA

Baby stans feat the sibling brothers

If Dib had a YouTube channel he'd get like 20 views max and would only get hate comments

Lab Negotiations.

Ford says he traded some teeth to get his lab from Bill, but the truth is a lot stupider than that.

Supplementary backstory for Step IV of Theseus' Guide to Ruining a Perfectly Good Boat.