White enamelware plates

Many moons ago I fell deeply in love with Twin Peaks, David Lynch, and everything surrounding it. Presented today on the 7^th anniversary of the premiere date of Twin Peaks: The Return, is an interview with the actress and homeowner of the Palmer house who graciously gave her time to answer some fan questions that have been haunting us for years.
Journey with me to find out some answers you wanted, some you didn’t know you wanted, and some you can’t believe you lived without knowing including how to tour the Palmer home yourself!
Questions by Luke Sweeting
Luke: How were you approached to be an actress in The Return?
Mary: I was standing in the kitchen making sure there were enough donuts and coffee for the few key people DL (David Lynch) brought with him on 2nd of 3 visits before filming, which was the 4th visit. DL came into the kitchen by himself and said, Mary, are you an actress, and I said No. He then said, “Have you ever acted?” I said I hadn't. He then asked, would you like to have a small part in the movie? I said, “Sure”, but was nervous and excited at the thought. He said that it wasn't for sure but that if it did move forward, I would be in my own home and to act naturally, in other words, just be me. He has been watching me interact with some of the people he had brought. I heard he does like to observe people and get a feel for how they interact, look and sound. It is key to him that the person fit the character he is trying to create. He said if it did happen, I would get my script and go to hair and make up with the other actors. He was already trying to make me feel comfortable right there on the spot which I found very empathetic of him.


Luke: Had you ever acted before?
Mary: I really had not acted before other than a few commercials for the local TV station I worked for back in the day, but never a speaking part. I looked at it as definitely out of my comfort zone but who would turn down this opportunity? It was also therapeutic as I was going through a very trying time in life, so it was good to channel those feelings into doing something fun.

Luke: Has anyone recognized you in public yet? If so, do they call you Mrs. Tremond or Chalfont?
Mary: I have been recognized a few times which is funny but kind of cool at the same time. I was called Mrs. Tremond, which made me laugh. That is also on my license plate; I had to take advantage of that:)

Luke: (I know this answer, but I feel people would love to know the answer too) Was being a David Lynch fan the reason you bought the house, or was this just a happy accident?
Mary: I knew about Twin Peaks and about DL before buying the house. It is not why my ex, and I purchased the house in September 2014. It needed a lot of work at the time. The previous owner we purchased it from was the woman who lived here the first time around when Twin Peaks was filmed here. That is quite a story in itself, and I really wanted to sit with her afterward and chat with her about it, but she passed a few months after purchase.

Luke: Was there ever a culture shock moment of realizing you bought THE Palmer house, or did that happen after The Return finished airing?
Mary: This house was our first home purchase and we moved to Everett because of the history, great old historic homes and how much more house we could get up here. This area of Rucker Hill has some great history and amazing houses. The man who built this house was one of the first pitchers for Seattle baseball. We heard rumblings of Twin Peaks returning but it was around 2 months after moving in that we were away for a bit and came home to a notice at the door from the location scout asking us to call him right away as they wanted to do a film here. It was a mystery as to what it would be, but we felt it was going to be Twin Peaks. The whole filming process, when our parts were going to be aired and everything about the Return was a mystery. They actually filmed the Finale at the very beginning, so I had no clue where it was going to fit into the whole Film. Filming was an amazing experience. They were here for approximately 2 weeks preparing the home for both the Hawk/Sarah scene and the Finale. It wasn't until the Finale was aired that I realized how cool this experience was in the whole scheme of things and the impact in the Return itself. I wish I could relax a bit more and soak it in again, just to relive the experience and really study the process. Each person here was so professional and fun to watch do their work with such expertise. I couldn't have asked for friendlier people.

Luke: How has the fandom treated you?
Mary: The fans are incredible. They have been extremely kind to me. They are great gift givers and just very authentic and genuine folks in love with Twin Peaks. I didn't realize how intense these fans were, but I truly get it. There is nothing like this ever made before and it set the stage for a lot of other great TV and film. The fans have been awesome and I have many great friends from this experience.

Luke: Is there anything you wish fans wouldn’t do?
Mary: The only thing I wish for fans is that they don't just walk up to the door at various hours of the day and night. It is private property and not a public place for people to peek in windows and walk the grounds. There have only been a few that have done this; the majority is very respectful to me and my home.

Luke: Is it ever scary to sleep in the proverbial Palmer house? Are there ever guests who stay over and become a little nervous?
Mary: I am not afraid in the least to stay here. I was a tad apprehensive when we first bought it, but like the lady who lived here before would say, "this is just my house." Now a few of the guests who have stayed, they were a bit nervous to sleep in Laura's room, but that may be because I have a life-sized Bob mannequin in the closet:)

Luke: I know that you’re gracious enough to let guests visit this mecca of ours, could you tell me and anyone interested about how and when to properly ask to visit? (You could also mention your favorite flowers or favorite wine? I know I’d feel bad showing up empty handed)

Mary: I prefer people get a hold of me on Messenger or IG or Twitter and ask to see the house, so I can make an appointment for them, especially since Everett is not that close to North Bend and Snoqualmie. I do now charge $25 for a 30-45 minute tour as I have done quite a few. I do love flowers and red wine. I have received some very incredible gifts from some fans which I am forever grateful for. The fans are so very thoughtful, and I have a little spot in my Palmer dining room where I proudly display some of the gifts and artwork.

Luke: I understand if you don’t want to answer this one. What does your role in Twin Peaks mean to you? To us fans I feel like it was the perfect subversion of expectations while also being incredibly meta.
Mary: There are 2 questions I can't answer and one of them is expanding on my character. I do, however, think it is cool to be an infamous Tremond!

Luke: How does it feel to be appreciated as a part of a now 30-year-old piece of media that will last forever and has influenced kids like me to make careers in film?
Mary: It is very humbling to be part of the TP mystique and genre. I am blessed and love being able to share a piece of it with fans who have never been able to see the Palmer House. The responses of people who visit is my gift. I love seeing their excitement and joy at walking through my door and each and every person is a joy for me. I have made great friends, learned wonderful theories and have listed to some reveal trauma in their own lives, which invites me into some very private parts of their lives. It has been a life changing experience for me, and I hope it has been for them as well.

Luke: Finally, what was it like working with David? Are there any fun tidbits or stories of how he directed you / that wonderfully haunting scene burned into our memories forever?


Mary: Working with DL was an incredible experience to say the least and very humbling and rewarding. He is a master filmmaker and director. The gift he gives is what we as individual viewers choose to take away from his art.

He is a wonderful director in that he ceases to tell you how to act, rather use your raw and organic natural emotions to drive the performance. I believe he knew I was going to be a bit anxious and guarded and most of all a bit nervous, which worked well for answering the door at night to 2 strangers. He tweaked a bit but left us to the scene and frankly Kyle and Sheryl would make most people look good. We only had 2 takes which was great. We practiced a bit outside before the scene which helped. Also meeting Kyle and Sheryl in hair and makeup was an introduction to them both that was organic and for me very helpful. I felt like I was acting already with 2 friends. DL and Kyle and Sheryl were very encouraging. DL knows what he wants and how to transfer his ideas out in the scene with great kindness and finesse and humor.

Luke: I’m sorry but I have to ask. Any hints to what was being spoken to you behind that menacing white door?
Mary: There were no hints of who was behind door other than me calling him Honey. He was supposedly answering my questions and then I was relaying answers to Kyle and Sheryl.

Hello. I have been living with my grandma since Covid started in an old house that was built in the 60s there’s a giant hole cut out of one of the walls in my room because there was a leaky pipe and my uncle fixed it himself but never patched up the wall. They put a dresser in front of it so that the hole was not noticeable. My friends and I were partying in my room one night about a month ago and we ended up spilling a good amount of it onto the carpet. I cleaned up what I could and that was that. Fast forward to last week and I ended up moving the dresser that was covering the hole to a different room and I saw a white rock on the ground. I thought it was some of the stuff we spilled from the party so I put it onto a plate and snorted some. It definitely tasted wrong and I immediately tried to blow my nose out and wash it out. I started having a tight chest pain a couple days after that and still feel some tightness in my chest. I talked to my uncle and he confirmed there is definitely asbestos in the walls. How fucked am I? I have a physical scheduled with a doctor for next week but I’m wondering if I should just go to urgent care. I realize how dumb and avoidable this all was and I feel so stupid. I’m 24m and have been smoking weed almost daily since I was 20.

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:

Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.

Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.

Timestamp & Pictures
Round 2 of the Chimera 65. E-White/Brass version.
I have a few breakdowns of how I'm willing to sell everything that I have, but let me list what is available completely in the first place:

• Chimera 65 R2 E-White/Brass w/ Hotswap PCB + FR4 Plate + EXTRA Hotswap PCB and Daughterboard
• Extra - Badge - Gold
• Extra - Badge - Light Purple
• Extra - Badge - Silver
• Extra - Back Accent - Gold
• Extra - Back Accent - Light Purple
• Extra - Back Accent - Silver
• Extra - Bottom Crest - Light Purple

Option 1: Buy EVERYTHING Listed Above: $810 shipped all fees included
Option 2: Board + Extra PCB and Daughterboard ONLY: $600 shipped all fees included, or local pickup for $540 cash
Add any extra badge/bottom crest/back accent for:

• Badge: $12
• Back Accent: $42
• Bottom Crest: $22

Timestanp
Thinning the collection since I had to move to something more expensive and Im satisfied with my display pieces.
I also received 2 Sealed copies of Warhammer: 40k Darktide for the Xbox Series S that were incorrectly shipped to me, and I was unable to return them, so if you'd like one with your purchase feel free to take it.
Willing to trade for:
GMK Pacific base
GMK Matsu Base
TGR 910 ME Suave Blue + paypal
Selling

Boards	notes	Price
Aeroboard70 Black/Gold	1.6mm non-flex cut pcb, Cf plate non flex cut. Flawless condition. Will come with original box, foams, pcb tape, and both sets of gaskets. Little to no use, just ended up collecting dust on display.	$500 Shipped
Focus Fk-2001	Originally released in 1988. 102 Asian layout. White alps. Rescued from a bestbuy recycling bin. Restored and fully cleaned inside and out. Top case has a broken latch so front seam is slightly larger than normal. Sadly missing f2 and numlock keycaps, but is using the original rgb mods. Also has original tinted dust cover hinges, sadly no dust cover.	$70 Shipped

Keycaps	notes	Price
GMK Godspeed Columbia Base/SpacebaNovelties	Used a few times, no shine	$115 Shipped, ships in bags
Knockoff Midnight Rainbow	Mounted a couple times	$20 Shipped
Random beige/black/red 65% pbt kit		$5
MT3 Noctua Spacebars	Unopened	$10
XDA Honey	Will ship in bags	$10

Switches	notes	Price
Halot1s x88	Durock T1 Spring and Stem in Drop Halo true housings	$45 Shipped
Grab bag x1	Around 30 different switches, some cheap and common, some fancier ones.	$10 or can include in purchases over $100
Kailh Box Reds x90		$5
Kailh Box Browns x67		$5
Kailh Browns x67		$5

[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki] ; [Patreon]
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Chapter 168 – The moment to live and the moment to die
​
„Jumping!“ an Ensign announced loudly as the Sun's view-windows very briefly flickered into a dark black only to go back to a full view of the ongoing battle basically instantly, having barely shifted the ship's position at incomprehensible speed. „Shot clear of allied ships.“
Vice-Admiral Kazadi tapped his finger on one of the armrests of the Commander's seat that still felt anything but comfortable for him to sit in as the tight grid of flashing lights reflected in his eyes within the twilight of the bridge.
“Fire,” he then ordered. Not even a blink later, a burst of colorful light broke into his view from the side of his very own ship, lighting up the entirety of the bridge even through the automatically tinting windows that absorbed a lot of the harmful light so the crew wouldn't flashbang themselves with each shot.
The relativity canon fire tore through the enemy ship at an almost literal instant with any travel time barely being conceivable to a mortal mind. In a large unload of energy that left almost the entire stern-side of the zodiatos ship as a molten mass of dispersing slag, the main propulsion was taken out. Simultaneously, the two accompanying cruisers had also taken their shots; with the 'Civil' taking out the engine of one more enemy vessel while the 'of the roses' had instead used its shot to disperse one of the enemy projectiles in order to buy their own hunter ships more freedom of movement. Those huge ones didn't go down easy from one of the hunters' smaller shots, so using one of the large canons to dispatch it took some of the heat off them.
Meanwhile, smaller targets on the enemy vessels, such as their own canons, were gradually taken out by said hunters, whose own fire – while able to be quite destructive if intended no doubt – could be used in a far more precise manner. With more and more of their canons failing, the protective volleys the coreworld terrorists could fire to hide themselves away also became less and less effective.
“Send the fallback-beacon,” Kazadi then ordered, since close quarter attacks became less and less necessary.
It seemed that the zodiatos had a hard time adjusting to the combat style of the human unkindnesses, however that didn't mean they should take any unnecessary risks. Even if a pilot could've been able to avoid all enemy attacks in a perfect world, he knew that his pilots were only human.
Casualties of their own had been comparatively minimal so far, however as if to prove him right about his thoughts, he could see on his surveillance screen how, just in that moment, one of their ships was taken out by an enemy craft.
He grimaced to himself and let out a mild sigh. One more family who would never see one of their own again...
It took a moment before all the ships were reached by the beacon. Due to the nature of their own combat strategies, as well as the particular nature of hyperspace, it was entirely impossible to effectively contact any of their ships directly while they were out in the battle. Therefore, the order to fall back had to be broadcast as a general signal, that each of the pilots could individually pick up as soon as they would keep still for long enough so that it could reach them.
By now, the battle was already won. None of the zodiatos' weapons were able to match the relativity canons in effective range and without the larger ships to back them up, their small hunters wouldn't be able to launch an offensive – shields or not. They could just stay back and fire until surrender now. As the signal was picked up, one of their ships after another disappeared in one last flash of hyperspace as they joined back up with the larger vessels in an enclosing formation.
“Prepare for the retrieval of some of those projectiles,” the Vice-Admiral then ordered as he hoped they would be able to track some of those spent shots their enemies had fired. They would have to figure out what kind of tech that was.
In such a small-scale conflict, it was more than manageable to face it. However, it could offer some difficulties in larger fleets – especially since they didn't know how far this kind of tech could possible be expanded and refined. It was quite possible this was just some form of prototype.
While that order was followed, one of his Lieutenants suddenly spoke up.
“Sir, we have an incoming transmission from the planet. Civilian. Not encrypted, but they seemingly had an access code,” they related quickly.
“Is the earlier interference cleared up?” he immediately asked back, to which the answer was positive. “Put it through then,” he immediately ordered as soon as he heard that.
He rubbed one of his tight braids between his fingers as he waited for contact to be established. Once the line was clear, things remained quiet for a moment.
“What are we best at?” he then asked the silent line, his chest tightening ever so slightly, even if he didn't have to wait long for a reply.
“Topping from the bottom,” a very familiar voice replied from the other end, sounding incredibly strained but most certainly alive.
The code phrase was an old in-joke about something that had been said back during humanity's first contact with the tonamstrosites due to a slightly choppy translation. However, it more than sufficed here to tell Kazadi that the person on the other side of the line was not only genuine, but also not in any immediate distress – at least none that was brought onto her by someone else.
“Good to hear your voice Ma'am,” he greeted the Admiral after taking a brief moment to allow his heart to settle.
“The pleasure is all mine, Celestin,” Admiral Krieger replied in between heavy breaths that sounded like a combination between being ready to collapse and absolutely willing to tear anyone's throat out at a moment's notice. “Excuse me for the unorthodox contact, my own means of communication have all been destroyed. Update me.”
A brief smile played on the Vice-Admiral's lips.
“No problem, Ma'am. Things are under control up here, but multiple allied coluyvoree ships were destroyed and we suffered some casualties of our own which I will take full responsibility for,” he quickly complied. “By now, the enemy crafts have been largely disabled and our fighters are falling back. What's the situation on your end?”
There was a bit of a grunt from the other side of the line that seemed unrelated to the ongoing conversation.
“I'm sure you did everything by the books,” Krieger then replied a moment later. “Down here the situation is precarious but momentarily under control. We have an unconfirmed number of casualties after an attack with an unknown weapon. All squads are either KIA or unresponsive. We took down six enemy combatants but can't confirm if there's more. I'm going to need clean up, rescue teams, as well as pickup for me and two large offworlders asap.”
Celestin nodded.
“We're in a stable position, so we'll jump teams down right away. Hold out just a minute more,” he assured her while already signing in the necessary order to the troops they had on standby. “How bad are your injuries?”
There was another groan of pain from Krieger's side.
“Crushed cranberries,” she replied after a long moment that sounded like she needed to catch her breath.
“Copy that,” Kazadi replied with a grimace. “Sending muti-team with the evac.”
“Copy that,” Krieger confirmed. “Krieger out.”
With that, the call was hung up. On his screen, Celestin could see how the preparations for dispatch of the requested teams was already well underway. Jumping towards a planet at FTL was generally discouraged by the Galactic Community. However, this was an emergency. They couldn't wait for normal re-entry.
After watching the reported progress for just a moment, his eyes returned to the ongoing battle. He watched the enemy ships as they hovered dead in space, unable to maneuver.
They seemed to have recalled their own fighters back in order to form some sort of protective wall around the 'mother ships' with their own small shields. Obviously it wouldn't be very effective, so it seemed like needless cruelty to make their own soldiers get in the way of the incoming fire. Something within Kazadi told the Vice-Admiral they weren't going to stand down.
“Sir, we're getting some strange hyperspace-readings,” his Lieutenant suddenly announced, making him look up.
“Weapon-grade?” he immediately asked, knowing they had less than a moment to react if it was. However, he also figured there would've been more urgency to their voice had it been so.
“No, Sir. Travel-grade,” the Lieutenant quickly replied. “However the readings are unusual. It seems like they are creating a stretch solely around themselves.”
Kazadi's lips shifted a bit as he took that in and he briefly ran a hand over his mouth in thought. “Prepare to collapse,” he ordered. “Maybe they will attempt some sort of running start. We can't let them get away.”
Right then, the light of what was happening had not yet caught up to the spacial distortion that their sensors were detecting, meaning the ships still looked perfectly normal – if damaged – when he looked at them. However, they were planning something. And that made them appear all the more ominous.
His mind quickly went through their own protocols. The U.H.S.D.F. employed hyperspace in nearly all its possible facets in their tactics. If it was even close to sensible, they would have something that was akin to the maneuver their foes were attempting to execute right now.
A bubble of hyperspace solely around their ships...a dodge? Hardly, there was nothing to dodge like that. An attempt to hide away? No, they knew human ships could collapse hyperspace from the outside easily.
Before him, the windows of the ship once again automatically dimmed, protecting the crew's eyes as the colorful light of the created hyperspace-bubble finally reached them.
“Hyperspace collapsed!” the Lieutenant then suddenly announced, causing Kazadi to blink in surprise as his eyes shot up to his screen. He hadn't given any order to collapse it yet. But indeed, it was gone. For a moment, he thought that the stress had caused his officer to use the wrong term in haste, however no, they had been completely right. It had not been dispersed in a controlled manner. It had collapsed.
In a mild 'thud', the Vice-Admiral's fist descended on the armrest, hand firmly clenched into a fist.
“Those cowardly ba-” he began to growl but then bit his tongue and released a low, almost grunting exhale while his fist quivered from momentarily clenching tighter. “Prepare to search for survivors,” he instead said in a much more controlled manner a moment later. “Preserve lives.”
“Yessir,” multiple of his officers echoed back as he looked out of the window, where he could still see the ghostly afterimage of the hyperspace bubble linger for a bit longer. It was always a strange feeling, seeing someone in the distance who was already dead...
–
With her view darkened and her goggles momentarily pulled off her eyes, Shida stared at the glowing bubble of impossible colors. Her sensors had already told her what was about to happen at any moment now, however her eyes still heavily constricted as they finally witnessed what unfolded themselves.
In what could be described as nothing else than a 'snap' , the light of the hyperspace-stretch instantly condensed down into its original size as the universe all at once remembered that the laws of physics were a thing that existed and brutally forced space to conform to them once again – no matter what may have been in between it and its original form.
Anything within the strange, round stretch was mercilessly ripped along with the convulsion, forcing all the injected warships and fighters into the single, small point that the stretch had been generated from. Though not even a faction of a second later, it all exploded outwards again as the megatons of mass realized that they could not all exist in the same place at once, since the energy of the event was not quite potent enough to press it all into a neutron star or singularity.
No longer recognizable blotches of undefined, white-hot matter were instantly scattered in all directions like some sort of micro-supernova that accentuated the sometimes still burning nano-stars that the earlier battle had created from the opposing fighters.
It was almost pretty...but still, Shida couldn't help but let her ears hang as she wondered how many of the enemy combatants had known about the decision to end things this way. Had any of them even been asked?
Even if it was the far more disturbing answer in a way, Shida almost hoped that this had actually been one mutual suicide-pact instead of the decision of one single commander to choose death over dishonor. Especially while sitting in a ship that was technically under the command of someone else herself, that was certainly the less immediately petrifying option – even if it would probably spell far worse things in the long run.
As she said there, the 'shockwave' of the collapsing hyperspace suddenly hit her, spreading out through space even without any medium to carry it and rocking her ship gently while also penetrating all throughout her body. Of course the earlier relativity fire had already caused similar ripples and she was therefore quite used to the feeling, however these ones sure felt a bit more severe than those of the U.H.S.D.F.'s own canons. It was like she felt her own body distort while also remaining perfectly in palace – almost like she was a stiff container full of water that someone had given a heavy smack from the side, riling up the liquid without it actually having any place to plash to.
According to everything they knew, this phenomenon felt incredibly odd but was entirely harmless to living beings – which was instinctively very hard to believe when one felt it on their own body.
However, her dwelling thoughts were, perhaps luckily, interrupted as she – or more precisely one of her scanners - picked up on a peculiar signature that one of the scattered debris pieces was sending out.
Well, it was 'peculiar' to her that there was a signal at all at first, however then she quickly realized what it actually was. This particular signal was hammered into any pilot's head six ways to Sunday, and so she reacted relatively quickly when she glanced at the grid and realized that she was the closest ship to it. Firing up her engines, she turned her ship on the spot in a slight drift before activating her generator and making a jump right behind the flying object.
Once there, she allowed her computer to take aim for a second before firing out a harpoon that quickly struck the flying debris and latched her ship onto it through a long cable, allowing her to pull the thing along with her after slowly using her backwards thrusters to disperse its speed little by little. Pressing the indicator of her communication, she then spoke up.
“Scratches to Sun,” she announced. “I just recovered a black box. Permission to return for inspection?”
The black boxes of modern ships truly were among the most ridiculous pieces of tech out there, in Shida's humble opinion. Built to withstand almost everything that would likely take a ship out through a combination of brilliant engineering and extremely flexible material that only worked in its indented manner on very small scales. Well, very small compared to the ships they were built into. The things were about half the size of Shida in the end. For many years, armies of scientists had attempted their very best to make this same sort of defense useful in ways that could maybe be used to protect actual people from catastrophic events – but to no avail so far. For now, the only thing those little marvels could allow to survive even something as ludicrous as hyperspace collapsing was information.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant-Commander,” the answer came almost immediately. “Return to hangar three.”
“Copy,” Shida replied. “Scratches out.”
With that, she moved her ship around and prepared for her jump back to the Sun. Hopefully this thing would give them some answers on what exactly this whole thing was meant to accomplish...
–
Far away in another part of the galaxy, a pair of mildly glowing red eyes was laser-focused on a large screen that was just one of many that had merged all over Nedstaniot-Station to broadcast the breaking news to anyone willing to lift their eyes at a slight angle to look at them.
An attack on a coreworld. And not just any coreworld. Gewelitten itself. Something like this hadn't happened in...well, Curi didn't even know how long.
Details seemed to still be incredibly fuzzy as the battle so close to the coluyvoree homeworld had either just happened or was still happening at the moment of the broadcast, however what few details were known were already repeated on end in an endless scroll of text that was meant to catch as many people up to speed as was at all possible through the medium of television. Obviously the same emerging details could already be looked up on the net as well to find them in a more digestible format than the endlessly moving text next to the not exactly top quality footage of the occurring conflict.
However, despite the speed with which it went by, Curi had no problem following the scroll as they stared at the screen intensely.
“Attack was unannounced. Multiple Gewelitten fleet ships destroyed. Official sources confirm: Humanity NOT the aggressor. Attacking ships presumed to be of zodiatos origin. Unknown weapon technology deployed during the attack. U.H.S.D.F. ships engaged in combat after aggression. Myiat delegation ship confirmed unharmed. Attack on government facility on planet simultaneous to spacial attack. Councilman-Candidate Aldwin confirmed unharmed. Status of U.H.S.D.F. General Krieger unknown. Status of Gewelitten Governor H. Cierrophai unknown. Status of Acting-Councilman Afuéhner unknown. Allied coreworld defense fleets activated and inbound. General alert level raised to 8. Hyperspace-travel shut down around the system.”
“Mother, oh no...” Mueen said with absolute shock in his eyes, both of his hands clasped over this mouth as his wide pupils quivered in fear from what they witnessed.
Curi could understand his worry. Though Moar had supposedly been with James, so she would probably be fine. The cyborg was certainly more than just a little relieved that James was already confirmed to be safe. Though the idea that Admiral Krieger's situation was unknown was more than just a little disconcerting.
Though despite the supposed lack of their commanding officer, it seemed like the humans had decisively won out in the battle outside of the coreworld's atmosphere; unknown technology or not.
Given the sub-par footage that some drone was likely recording from quite far away from the actual conflict, it was very hard to tell just what sort of weapon the unknown but presumed to be zodiatos attackers had unleashed there. It looked like some sort of emanating energy that destroyed what it came into contact with but also interacted with it as if it had a physical presence.
Curi had never seen anything remotely like it before – not even in their wildest theories – and their mind immediately wanted to go wild with speculations and ideas about how such a thing might work now that they knew for a fact that it was possible from seeing it with their own eyes.
However, the cyborg pulled themselves together and successfully forced the briefly almost overwhelming desire to focus on nothing else down as they shifted their gaze slightly away from the screen to look over at their other currently nearby company.
Then again, as much as they knew they couldn't let their guard down around him, Reprig's eyes were just as immovably attached to the large screen as Mueen's were as he witnessed the unfolding battle with quivering horror.
His trunk was wiggling wildly in his face and one of his hands nervously scratched over the plate of the table they were all sitting and standing at and on, right next to a piece of paper with a hastily drawn sketch of a spring-like mechanical leg that was inspired by what humans called 'running blades'. The Warrant Officer's weapon also laid on the table, pushed a but further away from his hand so he wouldn't be able to easily reach it.
Though despite his focus, Curi couldn't quite help but speak up after a moment of watching him. “A coreworld attacking another coreworld,” they said to the man, who they knew either had to know far more than they did about this – or would be far more invested in it unfolding. “This is unprecedented.”
Reprig seemed to notice that they were talking to him, however he still remained silent and stared a good few moments longer before finally pulling his gaze away from the screen.
As his eyes met theirs, he looked a bit sick. It almost reminded the cyborg of one of the first interactions they had with the man, back when they nudged him slightly to hand his spy-device back to him after he tried to hide it in James' cabin. Though this time, the cyborg was quite sure that they were not the reason why the man seemed like most of his blood was currently rushing into his stomach.
Could he actually be shocked about what was happening? Was this not part of the plan?
“Unprecedented doesn't even come close to describing it...” he mumbled and couldn't hold the cyborg's gaze for long, looking down to the table's plate instead. “And these aren't just any coreworlds. Osontjar and Gewelitten have been allied for an unimaginably long time. The thought that they would even think of attacking each other...what sort of madness could've caused something like this?”
Curi was the first to admit to themselves that they were far from the best at reading people. If someone with even a modicum of skill in acting wanted to make them believe something untrue about the person they were talking to, they would never deny that there was a good chance of that person succeeding.
Still, Reprig's reaction felt...genuine to them. As if he had actually never expected something like this to happen. Not in a million years.
Maybe it was just skillful acting. And Curi knew that they should have been suspicious like that. However, despite everything he had done, they couldn't quite bring themselves to suspect that he was lying at that moment.
“I know it is unlikely you will give me an honest answer, but-” Curi began to say, however Reprig was more than able to anticipate what they were going to ask and replied long before they were finished.
“No. No. Never,” the sipusserleng said, shaking his head heavily and standing his trunk up while making a denying gesture with his hand that was so brash that he actually knocked his crutch off the small outcrop in the table it had been laid down on. “This must be some absolutely deranged people, no two ways about it. To attack a coreword...”
Curi noticed Reprig's gaze briefly twitching down, his eyes jumping onto the personal assistant strapped to his lower arm as if he suddenly got the urge to use it for something.
Curi suspected he likely wanted to call someone; question them to make extra sure that they had, in fact, nothing to do with this. Though the sipusserleng suppressed the urge and pulled his eyes away, bringing them back up to the screen.
Just at that moment, the implosion of collapsing hyperspace suddenly lit up the footage moments before the glowing remnants of what once had been the zodiatos ships were scattered across the star-system.
Mueen mumbled something in his home's language as his eyes remained affixed to the screen. Curi couldn't even begin to guess what he was saying. However, his voice sounded pleading.
“Suicide instead of surrender?” Reprig meanwhile mouthed breathlessly as his nervous tick of excessively licking his trunk began to show.
Although he had often been otherwise employed in recent times, Curi could see it in the man's eyes that he was still, in a way, military at heart. He knew the general values and doctrines that were conveyed to the soldiers of the Communal Military, both inside and out. And the idea of someone choosing death like this...it seemed to rock him to his very core.
Slowly, he turned his gaze over to Curi. His eyes were almost pleading with the cyborg, even if they seemed to already know that his next question would be asked in vain.
“Could it maybe have been the humans and their-” he began, but this time, it was Curi's term to cut him off after anticipating what was coming.
“While humans very much employ the collapsing of hyperspace as a tactic in war, the process is not invisible – or even subtle. Had the human ships caused that collapse, it would've been noticeable,” they explained succinctly. “It could've still been a mere unexpected failure of the hyperspace generation, of course. However, with the rarity of such events, the timing seems...unlikely.”
“They weren't even trying to generate a real stretch...” Reprig concurred dejectedly and left his head hanging, his trunk also sinking down limply. “I can't even imagine- Well...I hope they will at least find peace now, away from the madness.”
Curi paused for a long moment, staring at the Warrant Officer some more. Admittedly, the cyborg was a bit confounded at something. They knew for a fact the man had put his own life on the line for his orders, with a very real chance that they would lead to his death, more than just once. And yet the idea of being ordered to die seemed to disturb him. They couldn't quite figure out the difference that led to the results in reaction being so incredibly different, however it was still very clear that there was one.
And it seemed to hit the man hard.
Self-admittedly, Curi didn't exactly pity the man. They didn't quite have the capacity to. They knew about so many horrible things he had done that simply seeing him distressed was far from enough to stir such deep empathy for him within them.
Yet still, they weren't left entirely cold by it either – and if it was only because he seemed to be affected by these events in the ways a, for a lack of a better term, 'normal person' would be. He was shocked at the sudden, seemingly senseless violence, and concerned about the people involved.
Granted, it was likely only because they were people he considered worth being concerned about, yet still, the reaction was so...'normal', in a way they didn't quite expect from someone with such a capability for unceremonious acts of cruelty and violence. Even this person who had tried to kill them, or at least had been entirely comfortable with them getting killed, was capable of such a reaction.
And Curi...wasn't sure if that made things better or worse, if they were being honest.
It felt better because there was the capability for empathy there, however...it felt worse because they felt how they had been and likely still were willingly denied said empathy.
He could have cared...he just didn't want to.
Curi shook their body heavily, causing mild sounds from the engines running their legs' movements from the sudden force as they tried to shoo away emotions that they really didn't want to be feeling at that exact moment.
The thing that mostly kept them from following up on some of their uncomfortably aggressive thoughts at that moment was the fact that Mueen was still with them, the worry for his mother written across his features like a deep engraving in a metal plaque. He did not need anything like that around him right now, that much was clear.
Slowly, they moved over to him and reached up one of their long legs to run it along his arm while he still covered parts of his large face with both hands.
“She will be alright,” Curi then assured the dark-furred rafulite, switching from their usual voice box to their more “melodic” one to put on a gentle, calming tone. “She is stronger than she seems.”
Inhaling deeply as his nostrils flared, Mueen closed his dark eyes and swallowed heavily, taking his gaze off the large screen for the first time in many minutes while slowly hanging his head down.
“Yeah,” he said, seeming to force hopefulness into his tone. “Yes, she'll be fine. She made it his far. This won't get to her.”
Curi nodded with their entire body and continued to run the tip of their leg along his arm.
“She will be,” they repeated, both to the man and themselves as their own eyes moved upwards, their gaze falling back on the battlefield riddled with burning remnants of matter. “I'm sure of it.”
–
Never in his life had James felt so drunk and so sober at the same time. His mind was entirely clear, running a light-year a minute as it desperately tried to simultaneously process all the admittedly little information that he had in his current situation AND to not absolutely freak out while doing so somehow – a task he was ludicrously failing at. And it did NOT help that his body could barely keep itself on his own two feet.
He had avoided completely fainting by a hair earlier after reminding himself that, instead of being terrified for Shida's life, it would be much more fair towards her to simply focus on trusting in her skills to carry her through. However, that was barely a little patch on an enormous crack in his facade as he couldn't help but go over and over and over the fact of how much worse the situation that she needed to jump into here had been for her simply because it was his damn birthday and they wanted to indulge over it. He should've stopped that, but noooo, he just had to go and let himself be swayed so damn easily, as if he was still that little boy following Koko around whenever she visited the compound to try and get some attention.
Of course, a quiet voice in the back of his head tried to politely remind him that Shida had, in fact, not only taken part in the festivities as well but also encouraged him to do so, however it was easily overpowered by the screaming rest of his mind.
He briefly glanced over at the only somewhat conscious Commander. When she said that they should match each other's drinks, that should've been the moment he stopped. She was like half his weight, what the hell was he thinking?
His mechanical hand shot up, heavily gripping a fist full of hair as he tried to force himself to focus. What's done is done. There's no changing it. He should focus on anything else right now.
Though as he painfully pulled on his hair like that, his eyes suddenly went wide as he noticed something. Or, more precisely, didn't notice something.
When had the alarm stopped? Just now? Or had it been out and he just hadn't noticed?
Letting go of his hair, he lifted his face and looked around. If the alarm was over, then that meant...
The uncoordinated movement of soldiers reaching for their phones and radios with different speeds went through the room, and after brief confirmation, the uniformed forces began to move, having seemingly gotten new orders other than guarding the safe-rooms. Apparently, the threat was over.
James quickly fumbled for his own phone, his barely coordinated hands struggling extremely with the simple task of trying to call one of his contacts – much to the frustration of his already cleared mind. His finger trembled as he swiped it across the screen, trying to get it to the right damn place to make a simple god-damn call.
However, he froze in the motion at a quiet sound that was immediately followed by a sudden stir behind him as multiple people seemed to move quickly. And after just a second, James was among them as well.
Nearly tripping over his feet, he damn near threw himself onto the sickbed that didn't stand too far away from him, his phone momentarily forgotten and eyes wide open as they stared over at an endlessly familiar dark face, that however had life in it for the first time in what felt like an eternity at that moment.
Slowly and twitchy, Nia's eyes fluttered open as she let out quiet groans while mildly stirring in place while her doctors and nurses hurried around her and quickly began to take her vitals.
After flinching heavily as a flashlight was quite suddenly shone into her eyes to test her photopupillary reflex, she began to move even more. Meanwhile, James and Tuya were basically pressed shoulder to shoulder close to the foot of her bed, the only thing keeping them from dashing right up to her face being just enough awareness to not get in the doctor's way.
Still, although her movements were very slow, stiff, and groggy, Nia eventually lifted up her head, looking around with still somewhat hazy and half-closed eyes. But that didn't stop her from smiling when her gaze fell onto the two who so nervously stood at her bedside there.
“Hey,” she said in a quiet, croaky, but still very much cheerful voice as her unkempt hair fell down both sides of her face.
Though James didn't see much more than that, because just about at that moment, his vision was entirely taking away by welling-up waters sweeping him along.

timestamp
Cycle7 in Crow WKL with Silver Mirror Polished Weight: £160 - Hotswap pcb, alu + pp plate - No flaws externally, small scratch on internal brass, rear weight film haven’t been removed - Comes with original box and accessories - No switches or keycaps
KKB Darling: £130 - Mounted once and used for a few mins - No shine or texture loss
KKB Retro Mixed Lights Base + Alpha + Numpad: £150 - Light-minimal shine on some keys of the additional alphas kit and 65% mods - Other 60% keys mounted once with minimal use, no shine or texture loss - You can build 2 keebs out of this
Vintage Televideo Hi-Tek Space Invaders Board in DEC Layout: £35 - White linear variant - I bought this BNIB, only used for a few days by me - You need something in the likes of IBM PC converter for this (at least my active converters weren’t sufficient)
UK Shipping and fees included
Please comment before PM:)

Timestamp
Please read the post!!
Mostly unbuilt brand new keyboards. Price includes shipping within CONUS. For international buyers, please ask with your location for exact shipping price quote. Please leave a comment before PMing and no chat. Keyboards in the timestamp but not listed in the post are sold.
Keyboards (NOT splitting kits, no trade, all sell only; I am trying to reduce my collection size not maintain!)
​

Item	Description	Price
RAMA U80-A SEQ2 Moon Stealth (pics)	Brand new unbuilt. 2 hotswap PCBs, 1 alu plate, 1 PC plate, 1 W02-A Internal Dampener	$700 shipped
LZ Phase ergonomic 65% (pics)	Lifezone Phase silver A-stock. Used sporadically with mill-maxed (7305) PCB & carbon fiber plate. Comes with 3 PCBs (1 mill-max 7305, 2 brand new), 4 plates (carbon fiber (used), red alu, fr4, pc (3 are never used)), 2 inner plates offered during GB, black wrist rest (never used). With LZ branded carrying case. Not splitting extras. Please refer to additional pics for detailed pics of the extras and minor conditional concerns you may have.	$550 shipped
Mako TKL (pics)	Mako TKL in blue top silver bottom brass weight. Used sporadically. Comes with 2 PC plates (1 used, 1 brand new). Tried capturing one minor scratch on front side, please refer to additional pics. Have a personally cut poron foam and a different material foam from GB. 1 brand new unused h87C PCB with 1 Monokei Titan Grey Kaban medium case included.	$280 shipped
KCK KY-01 75% (pics)	Aquamarine (pantone 5463 C) colorway. Very good condition except for one small nick on the right side (please refer to pic, hardly noticeable). Two screw holes in the case were not machined properly and have to use shorter screws (please refer to pic). 1 mill-max (7305) PCB (full backspace, 6.25u, ANSI, used and built with cherry clip-ins on spacebar (for o-ring mounting) and durock v1 stabs elsewhere), 1 extra brand new PCB, 1 brass plate (new), 1 FR4 plate (custom cut, used) dampening foams (3 poron case foams of different thickness, 1 pcb foam) keycaps are not included in the sale, these are just for reference of the layout.	$130 shipped
Geon F2-84 (pics)	Brand new unbuilt Geonworks F2-84 in Black with Sandblasted Brass weight. Includes 1 Alu plate and 1 Hiney H87nu solder FR4 PCB.	$500 shipped
Cablecardesigns Angel 65% (pics)	Brand new unbuilt Cable car designs 65% Angel in silver WK. Includes 2 PCBs, 1 full Polypropylene plate, 1 half Polypropylene plate, 1 full POM plate. Ships in carrying bag. Missing feet (can't find anywhere)	$230 shipped
Bisoromi RS60 60% (pics)	Brand new unbuilt Red WKL. Includes 2 PCBs, 1 alu plate, 1 PC plate, 1 TX stab. Ships in carrying bag.	$390 shipped
Eniigma Vertigo 65% (pics)	Brand new unbuilt grey top white bottom. Includes 2 working PCBs, 1 broken PCB (refer to pic), 1 alu full plate, 1 alu half plate, 1 PC full plate.	$370 shipped

​
Thanks for reading!

I'll never forget the first time seeing that emerald green outfield grass as we walked out to our seats... it was so amazing to actually be walking into the seats at Shea Stadium as a ten year old. All the signs and the scoreboard. Totally blew my mind...

Orange car tried to speed off, but I snapped a few of its plate in time!

Timestamp
Free shipping
Keyboards: Mode Eighty 2022- $400 (No Keycaps)

• Flawless condition
• White Top, Black Bottom, HS Pcb
• Pom Plate, Durock v2 stabs, Green Door Geek PE Foam, Poron Base
• Original Box
  Rama U80-A Seq 2 Sage - $420 (No Keycaps)
  
• Great condition except for a small scratch at front bottom, can't see it at the front.
  
• Polished Brass Plate, HS Pcb
  
• Damaged Box
  

Space 80 Cream - $420 (No Keycaps)

• Small dent at the front
• Soldered with Mill-Max 3305 and cleaned.
• FR4/Pom Plate
• Everything that originally came with it will be included

NK87 Alu White - $90 (No Keycaps)

• Durock V2 stabs, box white switches
• HS PCB
• Alu/CF/Brass Plate, and a self-made poron sheet
• Original Box

MOJO 84 - $150

• Great condition, no scratch outside
• Kailh Box Plastic
• Inside have some dust, I can't open it
• Original Box

Keycaps:

• GMK Bento R2, no shine have a scratch on 6.25u space bar, 7u is perfect, $80 $70
• MW Lilith R1, mounted once or twice, under 5 mins typing, $60 $50
• Drop the Load of the Ring, mounted once, under 1 min typing, $60 $50
• Drop Susuwatari. mounted once, under 5 mins typing, $50 $40

Switches:

• 90 x Gazzew Boba Linear Thock (LT) Switches - Lubed, $70 $50
• 90 x Star White, L+F, $55 $40
• 90 x NK Silk Olivia , $25

Thanks for reading! Feel free to DM

Timestamp
Peachartisans Dalgona Breb Boi - $60 plus shipping Peachartisans Pink Heart Breb Boi - $60 plus shipping
Bear 65 v1 by Jacky Lab in Pink. Built w/ L&F Marshmallow Switches and L&F C3 Equalz V3 Stabs on White Alu Plate. Keycaps are included (21KB Hangul Classic Retro Beige Black v2.0). Selling for $375 plus shipping or local cash. Comes with:

• 1 extra solder PCB
• 1 extra hotswap PCB
• Brass plate
• PC plate
• Gold bear badge
• E-white bear badge (on board)
• All original packaging

Created this because a player wanted a Dragon's Wrath Weapon. I will be using an alternative method of empowering it involving surviving a breath weapon from increasingly powerful dragons, but theirs will start at Slumbering White if they manage to kill its current wielder. They can gain up to 3 other types of dragons to increas the weapon's versatility, if they manage to find Young, Adult, and Ancient dragons and survive the breath attack, while intentionally failing the save, with their reaction available.
My party are 6 Level 6 Gestalt characters.
Zealot/Wild Magic Barbarian
Zealot Barbarian/Samurai Fighter
Astral Self/Serpent Monk
Gloomstalker RangeArcane Trickster Rogue
Aberant Mind SorceroGrave Cleric
Celestial/Cosmic Warlock
They tend to deal with most encounters rather well so I've been increasing numbers and upgrading some monsters to the next block up. Mostly not an issue but they completely dismantled the creature in the Black Ivory despite me adding 40 extra HP and 2 Gibbering Mouthers. I want this fight to be tough, but not a TPK. It is replacing the Haze Hulks at the Scar and will be alone at the start, but the 3rd of 4 encounters that will appear that night, followed by the Ratlings.
Feldron:
A renouned Dragonslayer and Hero of Drakkenheim before the meteor fell. He is now a ruthless contaminated abomination prowling the area around the crater.
HP: 166(14d10+42) Boon of Health+40
STR- 18
DEX- 15
CON- 16
INT- 13
WIS- 14
CHA- 15
AC- 17(Half Plate)
Damage Resistances: All(Permanent Potion of Invulnerability due to Haze interference)
Saves:
STR- +9
DEX- +7
CON- +8
Legendary Resistance ×3
Skills:
Dragon Lore- +11
Perception- +7
Persuasion- +7
Stealth- +7
Awakened Dragon's Wrath Glaive-
+12, 1d10+7, 10', 3 Attacks
Special: 5 Damage to the target and all adjacent enemies on a critical hit.
Special: 3d6 Bonus Damage to the primary target per hit. Special Damage Types: Cold, Fire, Lightning, Poison.
Special: Creatures provoke Opportunity Attacks by entering Feldron's Reach. Creatures struck by an Opportunity Attack have their speed reduced to 0' until the start of their next turn.
Dragon's Breath: 1/day
Release a destructive wave of Cold, Fire, Lightning, or Poison in a 60' cone. 12d6 damage of the type chosen, DC 18 Dexterity Save for half.
Legendary Actions: 3
1- Attack
2- Move Feldron's Speed
3- Invoke- 1d4 Rounds later, one of the Tower Dragons decends into the mist attacking everything in sight. This action can only be taken if a Dragon is not currently provoked. This Dragon is not an ally of Feldron.

Timestamp - prices include shipping to conUS
Keebio Iris v.4 Keyboard - $120

• FR4 plates + 3D-printed frosted white mid-layer
• Ergodox tenting legs
• Hotswappable via Mill-Max 0305 sockets
• Everglide oreo mechanical switches
• 1 rotary encoder on left-half
• Flashed with VIA firmware

MT3 Dusk Ortho Keycap Set - $35

• Used keycaps, have some shine on them

MT3 Cyber Ortho Keycap Set - $25

• Used keycaps, have some shine on them
• Stems on the CTRL (R3) and TAB (R2) are cracked, so they don't fit as tightly on certain switches. I used some heat-shrink tubing around the stems to tighten them up; I'd also recommend to use some saran wrap on your switch stems if the keycaps don't stay secured on the switch.

TIMESTAMP
Hello Keyb fellows, the time has come to make space for other builds. Can provide further pics of any item you might be interested in. Based in Portugal/EU, so preference for a sale within the EU. Open to send internationally.
BOARDS
Wilba X Salvun Salvation 60 (as new) Lightning Silver + HS PCB + FR4 Plate + carrying case - 270€ + shipping JLabs Augur 60 (as new, slight patina on the brass weight, as shown) - E White WKL + 2 pcb's + extras + carrying case - 360€ + shipping UTD 360 Mini (bnib) - Black case + Solder pcb + Alu plate - 300€ + shipping Command 65 (bnib) - Ivory kit + Alu plate + extra HS pcb & db + extra 2 batteries - 290€ + shipping Matrix Falcon (flawless) - Mcflurry + rare weight colour combo (built with U4 Bobas) + extra BNIB pcb + extra plates + extras weights + extra BNIB OG/EC Topre Kit - 1500€ + shipping
All Prices include Paypal G&S.
SHIPPING It will depend on destination, please DM me.
As you might be aware, shipping fees are mad nowadays. I have no interest in charging more than the actual shipping fee is, so i will send you the invoice after shipping, for your notice, and if there is a surcharge, i will refund you the remaining value.
Please post a comment bellow, prior to sending me a PM. I do not answer to CHAT messages. Thank you.

Out there - Patreon (for all those curious or wanting to support :))
At the Beginning
Adventure Arc - Arc 2
Wilderness Arc - Arc 3
Academy Arc - Arc 4
Nobility Arc - Arc 5
Previously on Leveling up the World...
The ground kept disintegrating in a five-mile radius. The number of point and line attacks targeting Dallion was so great that even the domain itself had trouble keeping up to protect him. Spikes would injure dozens, occasionally killing one or two in the process, but that would do little to hinder the mass of steel.
The noble with the steel tendrils slashed through the air, sending hundreds of line attacks in one blow. While each was individually weaker than those of a normal person, together they were a serious threat. It didn’t help that they indiscriminately sliced through soldiers on their way. The countess had no value of human life, least of those belonging to her.
Splitting into instances, Dallion combined a vertical line strike with a multi attack.
​
ATTACK NEGATED
VALORR’s attack has been sliced in two.
Attack has no effect.
​
Dozens of red rectangles blinked in and out of existence, though even they proved unable to stop everything. The solution was for Dallion to fly higher into the sky, even though that would make him a prime target. At the same time, it also gave him the possibility to perform an area attack of his own.
Taking a deep breath, he did a spiral attack aimed at the archduchess, followed immediately by a magic music attack. It would have been better if he still had rays of destruction remaining, but most of the clay cylinders had already been used up, and Dallion didn’t want to risk venturing into his realm to make more.
As expected, hundreds of soldiers leapt in front of their nobles, performing an array of defensive line attacks. None proved strong enough to stop the spiral attack, but managed to slow it down so that the only thing that reached Priscord were drops of blood.
“I’ve over ten thousand, in case you’re counting,” she said in an amused voice. “And that’s without counting the reserves. But should you somehow manage to deal with them, the emperor has entrusted me with several legions as well.”
The boast made Dallion think. There seemed to be more beneath the spite. While ten thousand awakened was a massive army, it wasn’t the largest, and it definitely wasn’t worth bragging about. With the exception of the archbishop, all conquerors had armies in the millions. Not only that, but while she claimed that the emperor had entrusted her with his legions, there didn’t seem to be any cloud forts in the air.
“Then how about I take them at once?” Dallion whispered.
A wide patch of ground beneath the archduchess and her armies suddenly fell through, creating a deep pit. The armies in full plated armor scattered, in an attempt to escape, yet less than a thousand seemed to do so. The empress, in contrast, didn’t budge. The horse she had mounted remained floating in the air, as if nothing had changed. Not only that, but magic threads had also extended, keeping the two harpsisword nobles in the air as well.
Harp, what’s that? Dallion asked.
It’s not a creature I’ve seen, the nymph replied.
Having Vihrogon here would have been better, although Dallion strongly suspected that the creature had been created, or rather modified, like the crimson furies.
Taking no chances, Dallion quickly closed up the enormous pit. Before he could manage, however, thousands of soldiers flew up, filling the air. A few hundred were squished by the earth, slamming together, though not nearly as many as Dallion had hoped.
“Living armor,” he said. How come he hadn’t noticed that before? Whatever magic there was in the armors, it had to be hidden deep inside. “They’re a bit smaller than I remember them.”
“The original creators had a lot to compensate for,” Priscord replied. “I don’t.”
A new series of attacks filled the air.
In the blink of the eye, the entire space was filled with instances. Even if the common soldiers weren’t able to split into more than twenty, that made close to a quarter million facing three hundred.
A moment of shock went through Dallion, quickly replaced by a new sensation—the thrill of battle and the desire to defeat everything thrown at him.
The archduchess had covered all the angles: echoes to grant her minions strategy, artifacts to give them flight. It was also noticeable that despite their low levels, their speed was quite close to a hundred—another magic artifact or spell that had been cast. Even so, there was one thing that the woman had forgotten: a thousand people with a thousand separate skills couldn’t compare to one who could manage a combination of all, especially within his domain.
“Countess,” Dallion shouted, deliberately aiming to irk her. Red rectangles flashed non-stop as line attacks canceled each other constantly. “You’ve never been to the Academy, have you?”
“No.” The archduchess retained her cool. “I never considered it worth anything much, even when I gained my current title.”
“Let me tell you one thing…”
Of all the remaining buildings, books and scrolls flew out of the shelves. Like swarms of insects, they amassed, flying from all directions straight towards Dallion. It would be several minutes until all of them arrived on the scene, but that wasn’t of consequence, especially for what Dallion had in mind.
​
DOMAIN AWAKENING
​
Reality shifted. It didn’t shift just for Dallion. In less than a second, everyone in the real world was transported into the realm of his new domain. In many regards, things were no different than they had been before. Here, just as in the real world, Dallion maintained control over the realm. There were also a number of differences as well. For starters, Dallion’s feet existed here, as did a host of area guardians.
“Goldy, get her,” Dallion ordered.
The golden colossus emerged from the ground, dashing straight for the countess. In contrast to everyone else, its strength and speed were considerably faster, not to mention it was immune to spells.
Not in the least taken aback, Priscord snapped her fingers. All the armors of her soldiers—nobles included—burst, increasing tenfold. Apparently, the living armors were also blooming items as well. Being taken into the awakened realms had boosted their size and abilities to a considerable degree. How considerable, would soon be seen.
“You disappoint me.” Archduchess Priscord yawned. “Did you think that I wouldn’t have a counter for this? You think you’ll impress me by being a domain ruler? I’ve fought in such battles decades before you showed up.”
“That’s not the reason I brought you here.” Dallion attempted to complete a guard sequence, but the attackers didn’t let him, always disrupting it halfway through. “As I was saying, the Academy is probably the one place in the world that has the largest number of physical books.”
At that single moment, a spark of concern emanated from Priscord. She had grasped what Dallion was going for, and by all accounts it was too late to do anything about it.
Scholar skills combined with music, spell craft, and attack, releasing thousands of aether quills from the hundreds of thousands books and scrolls that existed in the realm. Like deadly hail they ascended on Priscord’s army on all sides. The outermost layers of the army tried to block the quills’ advance only to be drilled full of holes, like bullets drilling through a rotten scarecrow. And best of all, Dallion didn’t have to worry about the colossus guardian, since they didn’t affect him in the least.
​
TERMINAL HIT
Dealt damage is increased by 1000%
​
TERMINAL HIT
Dealt damage is increased by 1000%
​
TERMINAL HIT
Dealt damage is increased by 1000%
​
Red rectangles filled the air like a sea of red. There were so many of them that they covered the entire sky, making it seem like a crimson sunset.
The sudden change in circumstances had forced a large part of the army to shift. Even with their boost, they still had to deal with the colossus, while also protecting Priscord from the aether quills. The momentary chaos created a single opening.
The harpsisword seemed to move on its own, slicing through two soldiers that blocked his way. The spark covered edge went through the massive armor as if it were butter, causing it to blast from the inside.
​
TERMINAL HIT
Dealt damage is increased by 1000%
​
TERMINAL HIT
Dealt damage is increased by 1000%
​
Two red rectangles emerged, after which the soldiers vanished as they were thrust back into the real world, their awakening powers sealed. That wouldn’t get rid of the echoes inside then, but at least made Priscord vulnerable here.
Thrusting his aura sword forward, Dallion cast a series of magic circles. Aether shards began shooting out, while chains targeted the nobles protecting the archduchess. To further cut off her support, Dallion pulled up the ground surrounding her, creating high cliffs. Unlike the other terrain changes in the realm, no one would dare attack these with line attacks out of fear of harming her. At this point, only one unknown remained—the horse.
Three of the nobles flew at Dallion, attacking him with their special weapons. Their armors, too, had blossomed into more elegant versions of living armor.
Bursting into instances, Dallion evaded the tendril sword’s attacks. At the same time, Gem flew in to meet the ax of another attacker head on. A loud cling resonated, pushing the aetherfish back, though by no means diminishing its determination. Meanwhile, Lux transformed the weapon he was inhabiting from a pair of bows to a crossbow, firing bolts of light at the third noble like a machine gun.
“Good work, guys,” Dallion whispered as he flew past, continuing towards his target.
I could take care of them easily, Gleam said, itching for blood.
I need you to keep an eye on Aqui, Dallion insisted.
She’s a great dragon! Even if she’s a cow, killing her won’t be easy.
Keep an eye on Aqui, Dallion said in a firm tone that quickly ended all protests.
A short distance away, the two nobles had combined their music skills, creating a shield around Priscord. Their skills were impressive, though nowhere near anything he’d seen in the former House Elazni. It was a novel use of their powers, though. Dallion made a note to experiment using in the future.
“Move away!” He shouted, using his own music skills, combining it with magic. His own music strands tore through the defensive mesh, striking both of the nobles.
​
PERMANENT EFFECT - PARALYSIS
IHIJON has been rendered incapable of movement for 20 minutes.
The status continues to be in effect in the real world.
​
PERMANENT EFFECT - PARALYSIS
AVIRA has been rendered incapable of movement for 20 minutes.
The status continues to be in effect in the real world.
​
That’s two down, Dallion thought, tightening his grip round the hilt of the harpsisword. Only one left.
Splitting into fifty instances, he unleashed a spiral attack right at the archduchess. His expectation was that the horse would transform into something and block the attack. No such thing happened.
Priscord herself leaped off the creature’s back. A one foot dagger appeared in her hand with which she slashed the air, performing a line attack.
​
ATTACK NEGATED
Your attack has been sliced in two.
Attack has no effect.
​
Huh? Dallion instantly performed a series of line attacks.
This was the first time he’d seen a spiral attack be stopped and in such an effortless way. There was no way this could be due to Priscord’s strength. Even if he wasn’t able to see her white rectangle, the woman’s traits were well beneath the hundred. If nothing else, she wasn’t an otherworlder and thus subject to limitations. It had to be some artifact she was wearing.
“Admiring my weapon?” the woman asked, as she kept on negating Dallion’s attacks. “It’s a nice trinket given to me by the emperor. One of several.”
“So, it’s your trinkets versus my trinkets?” Dallion asked, taking the opportunity for a music attack. To his surprise, the harpsiswords held by the paralyzed nobles played on their own, negating it as well.
“Yes.” The dagger glowed purple. “That’s precisely it.”