wholesome RK in action

I'd like to join and have two questions regarding the rules. If the chaotic mod bombs a room that the coder cystian is in, do they protect everyone or just one person? And secondly, when someone is killed at night or eliminated during the day, are their roles revealed?

This is just a little something I wrote a little bit back, went and edited it today. It's meant to be a part of a larger project, and it's not supposed to be the first scene, but it's the first scene I wrote. I think it stands decently on its own and doesn't need external information to be understood. I really like it, or at least parts of it, so I thought I'd share it here. ----- Tables line the ballroom, filled with men in stuffy suits and women in flowery dresses. They look happy, or at least it seems that way to Lucas. Do they enjoy this? They sit at tables smiling and laughing with each other. As he walks through the room some steal glances at him, some talk in hushed whispers, and still some pay him no mind at all. Are the whispers about him? Or is he just imagining it? Above the tables are decadent chandeliers, their radiant light filling the ballroom. The smell of flowers perforates the room, though Lucas has a hard time smelling it over the perfume that coats his body. With every step he feels his shirt restrain his arms, shoes constrict his feet, the gel in his hair, the pulling of his shirt tucked into his pants. In contrast, he looks over at Emily. She walks as if she was born in her dress, upright, not looking around like some sort of thief casing the place. Eventually, they reach the table and he slowly sits down, a servant rushing up and setting down plates in front of them. Lucas shifts in his chair, staring down at the plate full of food and the numerous accompanying pieces of silverware. He takes the fork in his hand and pokes at his food, trying to figure out where to start. Eventually, he takes the knife in his other hand and stabs the fork into the potato, using the knife to hack off one of the ends. Satisfied, he stabs the slab of potato with his fork and eats it in a single bite. Emily takes a sip from her cup, a slight smile touching her lips. "We'll have to give you some lessons before next time." "Well if it's so damn important you should've done that in the first place," he grumbles. "I apologize, I often forget things that're obvious to me aren't always to others. I considered clothes and procedure, but eating etiquette never occurred to me." Lucas slices off another slab of potato and throws it into his mouth. He starts to speak, but restrains himself, chewing and swallowing his food before speaking. "What's the point of these things again anyway? Are we just going to sit here and eat food the whole time?" "No, we're going to socialize, let ourselves be seen. You in particular. It's not every day that a noblewoman gets a new Blade. You'll be the talk of the court." "How exciting." She looks at him over her glasses. "You understand my implication? Impress them, and we're both looked upon more favorably. Disappoint them, and, well, first impressions last." Lucas rolls his eyes. "What's the point?" He raises a hand to stop her objection. "I get it, my actions affect you and your house. But to what end? Really, how many of these people care how I eat my food?" "Our house,” she reminds. “And yes, they will care. I don't think you understand the game we're playing here. In the game of court, balls are the battleground. You gain and lose reputation based on what you say or how you act. And everyone is looking to cut someone down, for any reason." "Okay, okay, I get it. But what I don't get is why it matters so much what these people think about me or you for that matter. You're a talented mage and heir to a prestigious house. What can their words do to hurt you?" She sighs, "You still don't understand, do you? It is not in spite of these things that their opinion matters, but because of them. I am influential, so I am a target. My reputation keeps me safe, gives me allies who do what I say, allies who trust their loyalty will be best spent with me. But without my reputation, they'd give their loyalty elsewhere. And me and my house would be vulnerable." "Fine, fine." He leans back in his chair. "I get your point. But honestly, you expect me to believe that all of that is riding on how I eat my food?" "No, it isn't. It's a very small part. I just need you to understand and agree to not take this matter lightly. Do your best to be presentable, but likeable. Be endearing. I'm sure your background is spreading like wildfire among them, god knows they love gossip, but... just act as you are. Humble, yes, but you aren't beneath them, so don't grovel. Well, you wouldn't do that anyway, just..." She rambles on for many more minutes before a servant comes to attend to them. As the servant takes away Lucas's plate, he can't help but notice Emily's is still half full. Looking around the ball room, he notes that most have barely touched their food. He'll have to eat slower next time. "As you recall," she continues, "after we finish eating we'll split off. I will socialize with my normal group and it's your job to integrate yourself. You won't be expected to approach anyone, just make conversation when they approach you. Just pick a quiet place and read that book I gave you, that should help with the image we want to cultivate for you." Lucas waves her off, looking down at the book she picked out for him. A Treatise on Governance and Ruling Ethics: Volume 1, By Lucian Varentius. He picks up the thick book and flips through it, eyes glazing over. The pages are filled to bursting with words, almost as if the author was some beggar trying to use as little paper as possible. And the space that isn't filled by the words is instead filled with annotations, all by supposedly the same person given the handwriting. "Why this one?" he asks. "It's a standard introduction. Most have read it, and they'll assume you're starting your education. Even besides appearances, this is the start of your studies. You'll find my annotations inside, and you'll be given your own copy to annotate. I know you can read, but can you write?" He shakes his head. "I can hardly read. Certainly not something like this. Much less write." "You're already better educated than most street thieves I've met. Sound out the words you don't know, you likely know them, just not how they're written. We'll teach you to write in due time, it's an important skill." He raises an eyebrow. "For a Blade?" "For a nobleman. That's what you are now. Soldiers might kill each other and think themselves powerful, but this is where the real power is." She gestures around the ballroom. "Connections, reputation, influence. That's where the real power lies. Knowledge, education, wisdom. They're what teach you how to use it." Lucas looks down at the table, processing her words. She pauses for a moment before continuing, letting her words sink in. "So yes, it is important to know how to write. As well as the many other things you’ll learn, in time.” She stands up. "I'm not going to hammer this point any longer. Go, I'll find you when it's time to depart." With that, she's gone, and Lucas picks up his book and stands from the table, taking care to push in his chair as he does so. He looks around for somewhere to read and spots a staircase. Maybe that’ll be a good place. Better than down here, certainly. Ascending, he reaches the mezzanine, the floor stretching all around the perimeter of the ballroom. Looking down over the railing, he sees Emily, talking with a group of women. She seems happy, has he ever seen her smile like that? She's usually so uptight, but with them it's like she's a different person. Is that who she really is, or is just a front to make her "likeable". He pulls himself away from the railing, it wouldn't look good to be caught staring from above. On the mezzanine floor there are many normal tables as well as some short tables with big, cloth chairs. There are some groups formed, but most of the floor is deserted. Picking one of the big cloth chairs away from any groups, he opens the book to start reading. The book is thick and stuffy, and he finds himself constantly sounding out words under his breath. He wants to give up, sit there and pretend to read, but something she said still rings in his head. In the world of high society, this is how you get power. It's no different from practicing with his sword. The pain is part of the process, it means you're growing. So, he continues on. Periodically throughout his reading, people come up to him. At first he's unsure if he's supposed to stand or stay seated, but he chooses the former. Too much respect couldn't hurt. Or could it? Emily's instructions are so full of contradictions, hard to sort out. The nobles just ask him basic questions, polite conversation. He curses at himself that all his answers are slightly too slow, slightly too premeditated. But, no one acts offended, and for that, at least, he's grateful. Eventually, the mezzanine starts to filter out, the ballroom a little quieter. He's wondering where Emily is, and how much longer he has to read this damn book, when another man approaches him. This man, unlike most of the rest, is carrying a satchel, which he throws on the table as he plops down into the seat across from Lucas. He grins at Lucas, leaning back in his chair and throwing both his arms over the sides. "Name's Levi," he says. "Interesting book you got there, you like philosophy much?" Lucas weighs his answer. "It's interesting." "No, no." Levi waves his hand. "What do you actually think? I don't want some fake answer, what do you think about it?" He leans forward in his chair. Lucas sighs. "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. I don't really have many thoughts on it at all. It's just a confusing mess of contradicting points to me. I don't really see the point of it frankly, but what do I know?" Lucas looks at him, afraid he's said too much, but the man's smile just broadens. "I figured you'd say that. Truly, I fear philosophy is quite an ugly old hag. So misunderstood. It's a pity, really." What is he supposed to say to that? The man doesn't seem to expect a reply, instead unfastening his bag and taking out a book from it. "We spend so much time with our noses in books that we lose the picture for the parchment. Especially old tomes like the one you're carrying. Varentius is an insightful fellow, sure, but lord is he dull. The fact that he's your introduction to philosophy is a damn shame if you ask me. Yes, a damn shame indeed." Lucas almost laughs at the absurdity of the man. So refreshingly honest. "Well, can't argue with you there. You have a better choice?" Levi tosses the book at Lucas, A Crimson Dawn, By Amira Cottrell. "It's fiction," he says, "but it'll teach you more about philosophy than some stuffy treatise. Philosophy sinks in best when it's shown, instead of stated and explained to death." Lucas takes the book and sets it on the table, considering the man's words. "That's a compelling argument I guess. Though I still don't know if I like philosophy." "I think you do. It's just a feeling I get. It's in the way you speak. You're uneducated, but not as much as I'd expect. You seem to know much despite being... well forgive me for being blunt, but, a street thief." "Have you known many a street thief?" Lucas is afraid he went too far with that jab, but Levi's smile doesn't falter. "No, I've know none in fact! Well, now I know one. That's why I'm so interested to talk to you, I don't have the chance to talk to many commoners at all. I want to understand how someone, given your background, sees things differently from me." "That's all I am, is it? A street thief? What do the philosophers say about that? You people seem to act as if your background is all that matters, once a criminal, always a criminal. You judge with no regard to circumstance, no ability to imagine yourself in another's shoes." Lucas pauses, narrowing his eyes at Levi. His smile still doesn't falter, even now. Levi starts to speak, but Lucas starts again first. "I'll tell you this, nobleman, if you were given the life I was given, if you were born as I was born, you would've died. Any of these great men who preach philosophy would've also either stooped to my level or died, likely the latter. Not because they're too righteous to steal, but because they'd get themselves killed trying." Levi's smile fades and he looks down, sighing. "You're projecting your view of noblemen onto me, but I understand. Really, I meant you no offense. I apologize for my earlier statement. Though you did ask me what the philosophers would say about your statement. The priests say the soul is like a cup of water, once poison is introduced it's forever tainted, undrinkable. They say God can cleanse someone of this poison, but only him. And in serious offenses, like your criminality, even when you're cleansed you'll still be tainted, lesser." "That's ridiculous," Lucas says. "I also disagree with the notion. But why?" "I know little of their God, but it's hard to imagine he'd be so prejudiced to conform to the priests' prideful view of themselves." Levi laughs. "See, it's statements like that. Where did you learn to talk like that? I can't imagine you picked it up from other street thieves." "I'm not an idiot. They weren't either as a matter of fact. I've met thieves smarter than the likes of you, that's for sure." He meant it as an insult, but Levi just leans in closer, eager. "Really? I'd have loved to meet them. What were they like?" Lucas is taken aback by the question, just who is this guy? Why would he care about some street thieves? "It's not important," Lucas says. "Ah, another time then. But, back to the original point, I think you do like philosophy." Lucas decides to play along. "And what gives you that idea?" "Because this, this conversation we're having, is what philosophy is. It's talking with people, debating ideas. It's not books, and it's not some vague concept of wisdom. It's ideas, in their purest form." He pauses, as if to let the point sink in, before continuing, "I love hearing what people have to say, especially those different from me. Excuse me when I say it, but our differences are why I sought you out tonight. Did you enjoy our chat?" Reluctantly, Lucas nods, "I did." "Good. I did as well. I'd like to have more of these chats. I have a group of friends, we meet once a week to discuss philosophy, after these weekly balls. We have a meeting right after this, if you're free, but if not I invite you to join us sometime. We'd love to have you." Lucas contains his surprise, putting on a stony expression. Him, invited to discuss philosophy? What does he know about philosophy? He's mulling it over as Emily walks up to them. Levi quickly stands, giving, what seems to Lucas at least, to be an exaggerated bow. "Lady Penrose, it's a pleasure." She returns his bow, "Likewise, sorry to intrude, I just came to collect Lucas. I fear we have other matters to attend to." Lucas sighs inwardly, glad to be able to think about the decision some more. "Not tonight, but I'll consider it." He bows to Levi. "Thank you for your offer." He laughs. "Don't be so formal! Here, take my hand." As he does, Levi pulls on his arm and claps him on the shoulder. "To new friendship. Keep the book I gave you, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it." "Thank you, I appreciate it." Lucas feels like, this time at least, his words are genuine. And that makes him smile. How long since he made a friend? Is Emily a friend? No, she's something else. Something... different. Emily bows once more. "Thank you for your kindness Sir Wexley. Now, if you don't mind, we'll take our leave." "Of course," he says, waving them off. "Safe travels."

Reviews: 1 Featured: 1 Points: 7 Team: Team 5 Games Reviewed: As Ink: (Length: 7, Featured)

I genuinely thought it'd go to boobs tbh.

Well in that case, assuming one is left, I'd like a 25 dollar commission then!

I would buy a commission, but I'm not in the discord, so I don't think I could. Would love to commission you sometime in the future though

I remember hearing from reading Stephen King's writing books/autobiography that when he was starting horror novels weren't really that much of thing, pretty much just short stories in magazines. I've barely read any short stories, but for my Creative Writing class I'm taking this fall one of the required books is "Best Short Stories 2023", and in the syllabus it has a bunch of readings from that book, so I think that's good exposure.

you're gonna loss? you can't even grammer bruh.

If it's any consolation, I assumed as much. Though I did also wonder why you didn't just edit your original post lmao.