A rich folks' Thanksgiving dinner goes awry when Mister Eldon Winig is murdered. Can you figure out who dunnit?

A quick murder mystery/puzzle game created for poison_mara's Thanksgiving Writing Jam in like six hours.

Enjoy!

An undertaker meets a dead woman who is more alive than most of the living.

A (mostly) illustrated story involving a very mysterious murder, ghostly romance and spirits possessing --- the dead?

Let's not worry ourselves with the details. This is Blackwood, after all.

UPDATE 11/9/19: Housekeeping and an added Bonus Update Epilogue. All your questions will be answered in time. Enjoy!

UPDATE 3/13/20: New, better art (finally!) The original art looked like it was hastily drawn in twenty minutes as if I was completely over this story by the time for illustrations came. (You all can tell me when my art sucks, sheesh!) Enjoy!

The Gods discover a soul thief among humans.

A story about an ethereal romance and an otherworldy mystery.

Damn, I need to double and triple check these before I post! Sigh.

They are when she's particularly happy/mischievous/evil! (At least, if you assume my drawings are canon.) ;~)

Nope! Drawn from my vague memory of what a pistol is supposed to look like.

They’re supposed to denote camera panning is all. I might animate it at some point. :~)

This is so good! Beautiful! :~)

<3

It was calm and quiet one chilled evening in the small town of CYS.

That was, until a Noob appeared and began a-shitposting.

He foolishly began antagonising Sheriff Mizal herself.

---Western showdown music---

"We can do this the easy way," said Sheriff Mizal. "Or the hard way."

"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me?" the Noob began.

(He chose the hard way.)

"You hesitated."

--- I think I have all the western out of my system now. Enjoy! :~)

Space was vast and deep and endless, and So are Irene's eyes, thought Oberon.

Irene and Oberon relaxed on a high cliff somewhere on the far side of Earth, where the lands were mountainous and the sky was free of any human light.

And when he would have each of these thoughts, another star would twinkle into existence and shine in those blue eyes of Irene's.

And Irene would sigh and point at the stars and tell Oberon what clever names the humans had for each of them.

Oberon cared little about what the humans liked to name things, but as long as Irene spoke her soft and loving words, he could have listened to her for an eternity.

"The stars are lovely," Irene said. "But not as lovely as Earth."

That is true, agreed Oberon. The only other thing that could perhaps rival Earth's beauty is yours.

Irene blushed, moved her eyes to the ground.

Oberon said, I do not think Earth is that lovely at all compared to you.

"Oberon," whispered Irene. She bit her tongue so that she would not explode into a funny grin.

But beneath her legs, white roses began to sprout and bloom on the Earth floor.

Oberon noticed the pretty flowers, even as Irene tried to shoo them away.

And Irene shooed away the hummingbirds that touched her nose, and the little mice that seemed to whisper to her too.

Irene admired Oberon's presence. She loved it even. She would spend so much time with him that Edol would question her as to why the crops were late again.

And Oberon was tall and dark, obscured behind a black robe with an even larger scythe in his boney hands. Not at this time, of course. His hands currently rested in his lap. He was calm.

His appearance startled the humans, but Irene found him charming in every way.

Oberon was powerful enough to sever the human's souls from their bodies, guide them through the afterlife.

Irene could only dream of that power and strength.

She brought on Spring and Life every year. The very thing Oberon was was to kill.

She thought some flowers were not nearly as breathtaking as Oberon's ability to sever souls. But Irene did enjoy humans, which were her prides and joys.

Humans were interesting and intelligent and spoke many different languages. And even when they spoke different languages, they could still communicate.

Humans could build and destroy. They could create and think complex thoughts only the Gods had been capable of until then.

Humans could love and lose and bring new humans onto Earth. Although Irene knew it was really just herself bringing these new, tiny humans onto Earth.

But as mesmerizing as they were, Oberon looked up into the sky and Irene saw the moonlight strike his face and she could barely make out the human skeleton beneath his cloak.

Oberon did not admire these humans as much as Irene did, yet he shared a form with them.

And so did Irene. And Irene wondered if Edol had created these perfect humans in his vision, or herself in theirs.

Oberon rested his hand beside himself, continued looking on at space and time.

Irene looked between space and time and Oberon's hand. It seemed to beg for her touch, for her to rest her own upon it.

So she did. And when she did Oberon looked over at her.

He turned his palm upwards so that he could clasp her own.

Irene nearly swooned.

"It's cold, isn't it?" she said.

Yes, the Earthly seasons are changing, Oberon said.

Of course Irene knew that. Oberon's social ignorance was delightful to her.

She said, "I'm cold."

That is peculiar. Perhaps we could call on Despond to warm the Earth for you.

Irene finally smiled and when she did Oberon felt his new heart beat in his chest.

"No, no. I think you should hold me, Oberon," she said.

Irene moved close to him.

Oberon was confused, but assumed Irene deeply desired such a thing and gladly obliged.

With a delicate touch no one thought the God of Death might have, Oberon moved an arm around Irene, and to her surprise, pulled her into him.

Behind them, a field of wildflowers bloomed when Oberon did so.

Irene's green skin and cheeks especially grew several shades darker as she put her head near Oberon.

And for a moment, Irene and Oberon's godly duties seemed trivial.

The Earth could have been completely devoid of humans, but each of them would have been content simply resting in each other's arms like that.

Oberon had asked Ardora why he felt a pleasant burning in his chest every time he saw Irene.

To which Ardora giggled and replied, "Oberon, you silly, you're in love!"

Oberon did not think himself silly for loving Irene. If anything, it was silly to not love Irene.

And who did not love Irene?

The humans prayed to her for their crops and rains, for healthy children and a bountiful life.

Oberon had never been prayed to like that, never been loved like that.

Until now, that was.

Irene fell asleep in Oberon's arms.

Oberon never slept. And he would not have wanted to anyway. If he slept, he could not see the beautiful face of his beloved Irene. And this time humans spent asleep was valuable.

But perhaps this time was only valuable to Oberon. After all, he had a Goddess in his arms.

And Irene was a Goddess who loved him with her whole heart.

The way they held each other close like this was only the beginning of their romance. Even the quite literal Oberon knew there was more to come, watching his precious Irene breath softly in her sleep.

Perhaps the humans would never love Oberon like they loved Irene. But what the humans thought of him mattered little, because Irene loved him, and that was the only thing he asked for during his Godship.

Oberon would have even pleaded for Irene's love, but that was so very unnecessary, because Irene would have done the same for his.