Typical Singaporeans? (and why I consider myself as a "neither here nor there" Singaporean)

Because I woke up slightly earlier a few days ago for work, I decided to do random surfing. Nothing much, it was just going through MSN SG for any noteworthy news. Then this came up. Once I got home from work, the cat in yours truly decided to know a wee bit more about the hoo-ha. And guess what? Xiaxue decided to join in the fun. Now I know this is one blogger capable of antagonising an entire nation. To her loyal/rabid fanbase, she is Daenerys Targaryen. To the haters, she is Cersei Lannister. And it doesn't help that she may have accidentally made the Heaven's Feel route of the Fate/stay night visual novel game more famous by sparking off the whole slut daughter vs rapist son internet brawl (and it doesn't help that Matou Sakura is that "slut daughter" in HF while Matou Shinji is every bit of a rapist, both in HF and the Unlimited Blade Works route).

So who is in the right and wrong?

Firstly and foremost, let me play the Keanu Reeves to Xiaxue's Al Pacino. We all may know that famous movie The Devil's Advocate. I went through her post copied and plastered here. At the risk of making the noisy majority angry, I have to say there's nothing racist over her statements. Yes, this was the classic Xiaxue baiting tactic we're all so used to. From whatever conspiracy theories concerning her two (ex)BFFs to whether she's a closet fan of Breitbart and its openly gay poster boy Milo Yiannopoulos, she's been there and done that when it comes to creating controversy.

Which is why I say I'm playing the Keanu Reeves to her Al Pacino. Was the post provocative? Yes. While I have to admit she did put forth a decent argument, you still can't blame people for accusing her of stoking the fire. There's a logic behind this, it's called shock tactics (and no, it has got nothing to do with whatever cavalry tactics employed by Saladin during the Third Crusade). But nowhere in her post did she ever insult Indians, foreign workers, and the physically handicapped. So no, there was nothing racist about her statements. Provocative, yes. Racist, no. At least there were more grounds to make noise when it comes to John Terry and Ron Atkinson, no matter whether it's intentional or adrenaline running a marathon.

Secondly, I have to anger the noisy minority by assuming the role of John Constantine. Unless there is any semblance of falsehood behind Shrey Bhargava's counter-argument, I prefer to give him the benefit of doubt.

If it's okay for Xiaxue to go ballistic over some overgrown Mowgli crying wolf, then it should be okay for me to insult my fellow Singaporeans. In a nation where public education should be our national pride, there's a noisy group of people called Singaporean rednecks. Like the American rednecks, they're stupid. They're loud, crass, and deserve to be executed by a Pinoy politician named Rodrigo Duterte. If you think I'm being offensive, think again. I could have done far worse than this by mentioning the fish swimming in the Manila Bay and random sons of a whore.

Of course, this is not to say every Singaporean is a closet redneck. If it's impossible for every American to be an idiot, what makes us think that every Singaporean is loud, crass, and deserved to be executed by a Pinoy politician named Rodrigo Duterte? Sadly, however, reality has proven that the globalised culture of idiocy is something real. Far more than evolution, the devolution of mankind is 100% proven. No need for the missing link or some Piltdown bloke.

A national fallacy that is more than just Jack Neo?

Let me just copy and plaster this again. On the first glance, this article was all about a national lack of class when it comes to humour. The problem is that... well, it's not.

When it comes to lowbrow humour which is a watered down version of shows like South Park, Beavis and Butthead, etc, what we see is merely a case of tried and tested. It's very easy for us to point fingers at Jack Neo and the social norms, but what about movies made by Wong Jing?

In terms of humour, there is much more in common between Jack Neo and Wong Jing compared to Ah Boys to Men and South Park. I still remember my childhood and teenage years spent on watching Wong Jing movies. There's no need for cable television. The national TV channel is originally known as the SBC (i.e. Singapore Broadcasting Corporation, nothing to do with the Southern Baptist Convention). Back then as a child in primary school, I was already somewhat familiar with names like Amy Yip and Athena Chu. Let me just paraphrase a common saying here. In bilingual format, no less:

[冰冻三尺，非一日之寒；建造罗马，非一日之工。]

[Rome wasn't built in a day, but they were laying bricks every hour; three feet of ice isn't frozen in a day, for winter lasts three months.]

The culture of lowbrow entertainment, as the article puts it, is a result of people subscribing to a common standard without much thinking. Caricature has always been an effective means of satire. Jack Neo wasn't the only one doing this, neither will he be the last. Case in point: That was what got Charlie Hedbo into a bloodbath on January 7, 2015.

However, should we stop at here? Appreciating satire isn't just about laughing at negative stereotypes. One has to appreciate the background of whoever doing it and the backdrop of the respective scenes. I still remember the whole ITE=It's The End joke in the movie I Not Stupid. Coincidentally, I was in full-time ITE back then and the principal had to make a clarification. No matter how well worded the statements were, there's no denying that a satirical joke was there for all to see and laugh. And yes, I know a satire when I see one.

Is it possible for us to have more of the ITE jokes? Not on a literal basis, but rather something far better than throwing brown stuff. I'm sure Jack Neo has proven himself on being able to come up with classy satire. But can he do more by doing away with excrement, excessive negative stereotypes, and Alvin Tan+Vivian Lee?

Which now comes to another question: Are Singaporeans mature enough to handle satire? We can be quite comfortable laughing at exaggerated caricatures and Stephen Chow's inane Chinese accent. But when it came to Amos Yee, all hell broke loose.

Now it must be said that his actions for the past N months shouldn't be condoned. If you're playing with fire, it means you're playing fire. Nothing personal, just being factual (I'm still curious to know where his supporters were when Alex Au got himself into trouble with the AGC, though). When it comes to his CNY satire, I have nothing but support for him. This boy is very intelligent, I'll give him that. At such a tender age, he was able to create something which Jack Neo wouldn't be crucified for. Namely, a satire laughing at how disconnected we modern day Chinese are when it comes to traditional holidays. Not just Chinese New Year, but also lesser known ones like Duanwu Festival and Qixi Festival. When we talk about Duanwu, the first thing we know is dragon boats. But do you know this festival was meant to commemorate a patriot by the name of Qu Yuan? As for Qixi, do you know the romantic melancholy behind such a day? When we now use the term "niu lang", it's meant as a derogatory term for gigolos. But the real "niu lang" was anything but that. He was more of a Rhaegar Targaryen than a gigolo, for he was truly devoted to his Lyanna Stark. Namely, the "zhi nu". When we use the term "牛郎与织女", it is a reference to star-crossed lovers no different from pairings like Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, and this song below.

So what am I trying to say beyond the fact that Amos Yee did nothing wrong back then? Very simple. Before the emergence of Hot Rod Duterte, a bunch of people appeared in an attempt to feed Amos to the fish swimming in the Manila Bay. The irony couldn't be any more evident. Amos wasn't worthy of feeding the fish. As for his critics, they deserved to feed the fish. Period.

It seems that we are still stuck in a state of PC culture where we're just too comfortable in an ivory tower of our own making. However, I also need to point out that one doesn't need much to boil a frog alive. Likewise, it's quite easy to set fire on an ivory tower. Just gather the wood, make sure the wood is dry, and start the funeral pyre.

I'll admit that I'm also guilty of being a hypocrite here. For too long, I was too stubborn on insisting my own definition of satire. While there was nothing wrong with my understanding, I ended up assuming others having the same manner of knowledge. The more I tried convincing myself, however, the more hollow my voice of self-justification. Yes, I am encouraged by an increased show of being gracious from fellow Singaporeans whom I do not know. However, it's also high time for me to recognise the nature of balance here.

Interesting comparisons

Of course, Jack Neo isn't the most provocative tool in the shed. And definitely, Xiaxue isn't the smartest provocative tool in the shed as well.

In 2008, a Hollywood made satire making fun of the Hollywood culture got itself into trouble because RDJ used the R-word reportedly 17 times despite Ben Stiller being a known advocator for the intellectually handicapped.

https://www.theguardian.com/film/filmblog/2008/sep/22/tropicthunder.benstiller

In 2006, a movie portraying the idiocy of its titular anti-Semite actually attracted the kind of attention Xiaxue can only dream about. The most interesting part?

This pseudo-Kazakh was actually a real Jew named Sacha Baron Cohen of the Four By Two fame.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borat#Accidental_use_of_its_parody_national_anthem

Even earlier in 1999, South Park pulled off what may easily be the most infamous song in the history of America. And some say as well Canada.

Despite this being a cartoon, the f-word can be heard clearly at least once. Then again, it's Cartman.

Assumptions and connecting the dots: Mutually exclusive?

I still remember my AS1 Steve Ang telling me this: "You really need to quit your obsession with manga and anime. Otherwise, no girl will like you."

I admit my past was a tumultuous one. I can still remember Daisy, Yali, and Yufen from my secondary school years. Those were the girls whom I had a crush on. Once I reached ITE, there were Sharifah/Syarifah and Cheryl/Sheryl. It was a case of one-sided crush. It was nothing short of living hell where I was tossed back and fro by my inner demons. Namely, porn.

However, years of being alone by myself have developed a fiercely independent streak when it comes to my own judgment. Some of my friends did have a positive impact on me when it comes to this, I know who they are.

When Steve told me that damning statement, I instinctively knew where the problem was. On one hand, I had more than an inkling of an idea. On the other end, however, Steve could only see a mass of dots.

Assuming Steve was telling the truth and that he's very receptive to the Ah Boys to Men series, it means his fallacy may have exposed the humane tendency to make conclusions at other people's expense. This is something which we're all guilty of. For Shrey Bhargava, it might actually be far more painful than we assumed.

Let me just state that the two vids above are meant to be a litmus test of sorts. The first video is the trailer to Ah Boys to Men 2. The second video lasts for 52 minutes plus. When it comes to being exceptional rather than mundane, having the patience of steel is needed. If you can't be bothered to take the test, it means chances are that you're a mundane degree holder instead of someone with potential.

If you're able to finish the test, what is your first reaction? If you're capable of making comparisons, good. It means you passed the test.

The difference between the two vids exposes the fallacy in us. We tend to jump the gun without thinking twice about the other side of the coin. Period. Xiaxue wasn't wrong to flip the coin, but Shrey Bhargava shouldn't be castigated just because we failed to see the greater evil at work. It's a conflict between two different realities, neither of which is false.

While it's only natural for us to see the tree before the forest, we must understand one thing. It's never about not seeing the forest because of a tree, but rather the tendency of seeing only the tree despite understanding the obvious beforehand.

Let me give you another test, a question to be exact: Do you think Park Shin-hye went for plastic surgery after her net worth skyrocketed?

A Singaporean neither here nor there?

Firstly and foremost, I identify myself as a Singaporean. However, I don't identify myself as a typical Singaporean. If Singapore is Winterfell, then it means I'm Jon Snow. In other words, I see myself as no different from a bastard.

Right from the beginning, I realised I wasn't meant to learn things the Singaporean way. Sadly, it also means I'm destined to go against the system. I fell asleep during class even though I couldn't pinpoint the cause. There was this classmate sitting behind me who decided to disturb me in the name of "righteousness". I was bullied despite doing nothing worth the wrath, a classmate by the name of David Long became that unwitting pawn in a bully's bid to make himself look like a "hero". I was betrayed by people whom I thought were my friends. I can still recall that person's English name. I was verbally abused, people called me "siao" without feeling guilty while I still can recall the full name of that person during my ITE days who mercilessly put me down like some kind of worthless mongrel.

Physically, I'm part of my family and Singapore. Yet, my inner world has been detached from them. Nearly 35 years of being alive and this is still the case. I am no different from the likes of Emiya Shirou and Archer. The reality marble known as Unlimited Blade Works is an inner world representing solitude where trials of steel and fire defined everything.

I tried more than once to open my mouth, to speak out my innermost thoughts. The words got stuck in my throat. For countless years, I lived apart from my family and country despite still physically there. I harboured no hopes that they would understand me as a human being.

Ultimately, I started becoming somewhat cynical. Interestingly, I started developing my own independent thinking. Right now, I'm still in a state of silence when it comes to taking blows. On one hand, I still feel the need to be understood and appreciated. On the other hand, no evidence has been given when it comes to those around me.

So should I go kill myself? Thankfully, such a thought never crossed my mind during my secondary school years. I can still remember a classmate of the same batch, let's call him RT. He fell from a nearby HDB building, that's when Gan Eng Seng School was still at Spottiswoode Park (there wasn't a primary school back then). I realised that I could have either been before him or after. Right now, there's no reason for me to do so.

A few thoughts crossed my mind.
If Singapore is to be compared with the DC universe, what would be the names associated with the Singaporean dream? Would it be Batman, Superman, or Wonder Woman?
If you're a local Singaporean girl (never mind whether you're rich, beautiful, intelligent, or any one/two of the three listed), what kind of boyfriend would you want?
What is your expectation of your newlywed husband?
Be her a doctor, nurse, or radiographer, I'm pretty sure every girl would want her boyfriend to be like Clark Kent, her husband to be like Bruce Wayne. If your ex is someone like Clark Kent, why would you settle for John Constantine as your future boyfriend? Unless there's something wrong with you up there. And I don't mean the cleavage (then again, there's such a thing called compelling reasons).

More than any of the DC characters, I find it quite intriguing that John Constantine resonates with yours truly. Of course, I'm heterosexual and I don't do magic, Severus Snape or no Severus Snape. My life sucks less than his, it's not as if I'll unwittingly hex those around me. At least I recall nothing happened to ST, Saruman, and Jabba the Hutt from the DDR. Weird thing, though, is that if my future girlfriend is really born in 1986, chances are that she will end up looking like a mini cougar.

While I can never say whether my analytical skill is an accidental parallel to that of John Constantine, I do admit dark souls of the same feather flock together. Well, sort of. Just don't ask me stupid questions like these below.

Idiot: Hey, you know that girl in your workplace resembling Vivian Lee? You think they're siblings?
Me: If you want to get laid, go Geylang.
Idiot: ...
Me: Oh, I nearly forgot it's Ramadan now.

Moron: Hey, I suddenly realised that girl doesn't include some of her family members in her Facebook family list.
Me: Do I look like her cat?

Wannabe: Police said it's suicide bombing, the terrorists only mention victory. What do you think?

Me: Maybe bomb went off before that guy could run away.
Wannabe: Well, it's at least theoretically possible.
Me: Well, he's at least a suicide bomber on a technical basis.

Busybody: Hey, the city of Manchester decided to ban the Sun!
Me: Thankfully, no one planted a bomb in Hillsborough.

Perhaps truly a Singaporean neither here nor there...

Years of being a social reject can do some very wonderful things provided you're strong enough to pull through. When I first started off as a wannabe writer, it was because of my English teacher Miss Ho. While she praised my ability, she also said that I needed to cut down on my word length. After all, you don't expect me to be the Harry Potter of novel writing at the young age of 14. But hey, guess what/ I actually made the first step. Thanks, Miss Ho of class 2H. You're the reason why I decided to start doing something useful. Yes, my dad did give a snide remark by asking me whether writing can earn me a living. While he's right, he never realised that his son is the Singaporean equivalent of John Constantine. And to think he may have actually hoped that I'd become Clark Kent.

Long story short, I discovered my calling. It's not myself to be the next Jack Neo. If I cannot connect 100% with my own country, why should I want to be the next Jack Neo? To prove I'm not a liar, I'm going to show you what kind of creative person I am.

Note: Because I do have my own paranoid moments, let me say that names like Adine, Lolyx, Weisslynn, and Seelia should be seen as a moment of random creativity. The last thing I ever want is getting crucified for no reason at all.

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2016/09/the-wolf-and-its-answer.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2016/10/roaring-dawn.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2016/12/unknown-and-left-behind.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2017/04/a-wolf-and-moon-lion-and-dawn.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2017/05/of-men-and-whores-lads-and-ladies.html

P.S: I suddenly recall an interesting fact. When I first started doing stuff in the DDR, ST actually reminded me of a school chairperson.

Any real life parallel to Onizuka Eikichi and Fuyutsuki Azusa should be seen as a product of individual paranoia. Period.

Of Men and Whores, Lads And Ladies

"The difference between men and lads is that men will always get their whores while lads can never get their ladies. It boils down to who are the gods and who are the mortals."
~Deios Symon, leader of the Men of Redmarch

)0(

"Arondight…"

The berserker can hardly hear the voice of his lady fair, yet a mere whisper of concern is more than enough to give him strength. Even though it is only enough to prop himself up.

"Where is he?"

"That man… he’s gone," sighs Seelia, her eyes glancing skywards, "I have a very bad feeling about this. The ghosts of this place, they broke free and returned no more."

"Because they were never real to start with."

Tensing up, Arondight’s reaction only serves to trigger a searing pain knifing through his body. That monster of a madman had injured him greatly, two crippling wounds and a sword ran through the lungs could have killed anyone. Had he not lashed out with his axe and all his might, Seelia would have met a horrible death. He still can recall a staring duel engaged, the crimson-eyed monstrosity walking away with nary a fear.

"The armour cursing you to madness turns out to be a blessing, I see," smirks a beautiful woman with her long white hair let down. Her visage is that of a maiden no older than twenty summers to Seelia, her robe of scarlet red fastened by a purple sash and with nothing else worn underneath. The front is opened, an intent to flaunt her cleavage flagrantly obvious to both the protector and protected.

"What do you want?" snaps the knight.

"One cut across the calf and the other biting deeply into your forearm. Not to mention a wound which could have killed just about anyone else," ignoring Arondight’s question, the alluring woman traces her finger along the wound on his left arm. Jealousy immediately surges forth inside Seelia, a possessive feeling invading her innermost being and threatening to overspill. As a woman, she knows a temptress when she sees one. As an individual, she is not one to give up without a fight.

"My gratitude for your aid. But you have yet to answer me."

To Seelia’s astonishment, Arondight manages to stand up with his wounds abruptly healed. As for the seductive woman, she retains a wicked smile like that of a harlot who has her prey ensnared.

"At last speaking like a real knight and true gentleman, Kain Lamrec."

At those words, Arondight pins the woman against the nearest tree, an iron grip closed around her neck. His snarling visage reminds Seelia of the moment where he had slaughtered many, that very dusk just after they had finished using her for the day. To the knight gone berserk, Kain Lamrec is never a name any person should mention on a whim. Alas, when was the last time someone called him by his real name?

"Sarel Aphros at your service," bowing deeply, Sarel has no qualms provoking the two as her breasts threaten to spill out, "Remember me lest we cross paths again. Me and you, perhaps even your Teutonian lady fair."

With a crimson flash, the woman in scarlet red disappears. Leaving behind Arondight and Seelia wearing two different expressions, but asking the same question. A question involving someone disappearing in a similar way through a murder of crows instead of an eruption of sparks fiery red.

)0(

The place reeks of sweat and vomit, it is where men of all ages and size flock to. The sight of women flirting with their clients is always a daily scene, their livelihood dependent on every patron’s mood. Every now and then, a single harlot would be shared by two men or perhaps more. Not behind closed doors, but either on a table or the floor.

"Alive?"

"Yes, you heard me," smiles the Sudhlit, his playful shrug akin to a boy of twelve. Yet, here Tristan Aias is in a brothel.

"Good," replies Lars Alterfate,  the nature of his smile a show of reciprocation, "Thanks, Tris."

"Just a dumb question from the great military genius Tristan Aias, my dear demon hunting Lars. Why didn’t you ask the Men of Redmarch instead?"

"You've said it, genius. It’s a dumb question. We know how much it costs to secure the aid of anyone under Deios' beck and call."

Before Lars' riposte, Tristan Aias let out a guffaw. The two have plenty in common. Namely, whoring and getting drunk with the occasional act of harmless mischief. The comedy is not lost on both, for they know who are the ones subjected to the leadership of Deios Symon. The Men of Redmarch only value three things above all: Whores, drinks, and money. As for the extent of capabilities, no one does espionage and backstabbing better than them. It is always said that even the least of their ranks can easily slip into a rowdy tavern, wedge a knife between the target's ribs, and get out before the resultant chaos goes out of control.

"I’m interested in meeting that beautiful Teutonian maiden of yours," teases the Sudhlit, a thumb stroking his fuzzy chin, "Any chance that she will fancy a night with this great military genius who is on a par with the Serpent of Histalonia?"

"She's not mine," to Tristan’s incredulous look, Lars’ impish expression abruptly evaporates, "Also, I don't want to be blamed for a Sudhlit struck dead while he's getting hard."

Howling with mirth, Tristan finds the contrast between words spoken and a grave look utterly amusing. If there is anything Lars isn’t good at, it would be expressing himself in the most appropriate manner at times.

"Pretty sure many would want to see that day," chortles the schemer with a dark complexion, his self-deprecating humour expected from a faintly smiling Lars, "I know I was born arrogant, but there’s a good reason why Tristan Aias is the best among the best. Not to mention being a horny bastard like Deios Symon and his Men of Redmarch as well."

"That mad…"

"Yes, I know. That mad and crazy fellow. I discovered some interesting information concerning him and his lady fair. Apparently, you can drive people off their sanity by... well, effectively doing nothing at all. His axe might have slaughtered them all, but it was their sudden loss of mind which made it possible. I have to say it's quite amazing to know his damsel in distress wasn't fazed by all the dead people and whatever unseen force coming out from him."

At Tristan’s revelation. Lars goes silent despite the hustle and bustle of their surroundings. They know the potential trouble such an entity can bring. As a demon hunter, Lars knows more than just a fair bit concerning the Age of Renown. As an individual more than comfortable in creating a coherent picture through analysis, no matter how few and small the shards of information, Tristan is able to see the truth hidden behind any veil.

"You know what caused…"

"There was one survivor from that slaughter apart from the most obvious. Killed himself by banging his head on the wall. You know how people in the sanatorium tend to behave. Anyway, he went on and on about some black armoured beast holding an axe. I'm not sure why, but…"

"But?" pressing forth, Lars’ curiosity is piqued, a trait always showing its hand more oft than not. Then a commotion punctures what is already a boisterous atmosphere.

"I’ll tell you later. For now, let’s go save some whores," smirks the roguish Sudhlit in a moment of cheeky dare as Lars Alterfate gets up from his seat.

"Lissa and Rheana to be exact."

"Seriously, Lars, you actually remember names?"

"Try my memory some time, Tris."

With a wink and a snap of his fingers, Lars Alterfate signals the start. Tristan, in turn, gives a sequence of hand signals.

Watch out for what I'll say later.

)0(

"Unbelievable," shaking her head in a mixture of resignation and good humour, the brothel madam addresses the troublesome duo seated in front of her, "Then again, should I be stunned? Once a troublemaker, forever one. Let alone two."

"Not my fault, old hen," quips Tristan, "I thought our charming prince here is going to do something outrageous."

"Like?" quizzes Roxanne, the edge in her tone daring Tristan to tell the truth. Or any insane fib for that matter.

"Shooting silver chains connected to shiny blades out of nowhere?" shrugs the Sudhlit with a sheepish grin.

"Nice bullshit, genius," huffs the owner of Vixen’s Hatch, “Also, I’d have roasted any other man on a spit for calling me that."

"Thank you very much, old hen Rox. Your mercy is noted with gratitude," grins Tristan widely.

"Thankfully, no one cares about what happens daily within the underbelly of every great country," continuing her words and ignoring Tristan's, Roxanne’s smile betrays an impressed woman who has seen much, "That was a great shot. Two arrows fired in succession, one to the right and the second to the left. I’ve seen bowmen strutting their stuff like arrogant actors, both the decent ones and shitty ones. But the Holy Quintet be damned to Seven Hells if this wasn’t a daring piece of skill. Threading a shot through the crowd without killing an innocent bum was really an eye-opener."

"You’re speaking as if the rich and affluent won’t come here."

"Tristan Aias, please grow up. I like you, you’re truly a gentleman despite being a crass one. But you always enjoy talking nonsense. You should know what kind of toys those of higher taste desire."

"A woodsman axe of elven craftsmanship?"

Before a seemingly ridiculous reply meant to goad, Lars gets the answer to the last question. However, another question arises as a result.

Someone not of the Homm’Nua wielding a weapon crafted by one of their own? This is absurd.

"The world is full of absurdities anyway," Roxanne’s words snapping Lars back to reality, the nature of timing isn't lost on him, "It’s not every day that a whore would offer her services for free, let alone two. I trust that you two will treat Lissa and Rheana with respect. Now if you excuse me, I need to take care of the local guards. The act of murder can be quite costly at times and I don’t mean the lives gone."

)0(

Naked body stained with blood, Weisslynn can only flee with nary a direction. Believing at first a heroic elf had arrived to save her and her friends, every sliver of hope has sold itself to despair. This is a rabid animal walking on two legs, a demonic maelstrom leaving behind blood and body parts in its wake. Surely he's a bastard child conceived from an unholy union of heroic tales and fiendish myths, the power displayed in full a storm of steel and flitting form. Gone are her only friends, companions making an inevitable fate somewhat bearable.

"Ye’ll fectha’ fine hella’sum! Befer dat, ye’ll need sum educatin’, ya hear us?"

What has she done to deserve all these? He father was an incorrigible gambler, her mother was a hopeless drunk. Tiny shreds of joyful memories matter not, only an eternal nightmare awaits. The image burns deeply in her like a ewe lamb branded, screams and death staying in her mind. The bandits are the ones guilty, not her or others doomed to pleasure men!

"……"

The attacker said nothing, his silence betraying something amiss. Why did she choose to run towards him? If she had never done so, then maybe… just maybe… there will be a happy ending. She will leave behind her past for good. She will find a worthy husband. Her kids will be happy. Her husband will always be cheerful. Perhaps her parents will even one day beg for forgiveness! Who knows?

"It’s your fault… you murderous dog, worthless mongrel…"

Weeping whilst running, Weisslynn curses the monster before her. That monster verily true both in her eyes and heart…

"Save me! Plea…"

Comes the moment, comes the surrender. Damning images devouring her mind for good, Weisslynn’s strength caves in.

No strength to run, no strength to think… no strength to…

Then a hand grabs her from behind, an alien warmth seizing her senses. She tries to scream, only to have a hand covering her mouth. She kicks back against her captor, hoping to nail a blow in between the legs. Giving a hard bite, the grip loosens. If only it isn’t just a hand.  Then a sharp pain greets the back of her skull, her vision surrendering to darkness.

)0(

"Was it my fault that I chose to take a piss near her?"

"My answer is no. But it’s your fault for playing hero, so stop whining about that mark and the fact that you nearly got your balls smashed in."

"I never whine!"

"You keep talking about it as if it’s some big deal."

"Because you call me a cretin!"

"Well, you are. Do you expect me to call myself retarded?"

Weisslynn wakes up to a quarrel happening next door, a dusky girl around her age sleeping beside her bed. Getting up, she unwittingly rouses her slumbering counterpart.

"Oh, I’m sorry!"

If a hasty apology has reached her ears, Lolyx merely puts forth a bleary face and a wide yawn. Tasked with taking care of a naked girl, she had to contend with the occasional bout of screaming and sobs. She feels sorry for the victim, surely some horrendous ordeal had dealt her a terrible hand. While Gael Kodr is always one to create unwanted trouble, his penchant for playing the hero of chivalry is nevertheless an admirable trait. Albeit the only one. He never notices it given his dim-witted nature, but Adine is not the only girl having a crush on him. Not that Lolyx herself is guilty of such stupidity, though.

Hurrying to the room where a slanging match is currently being held, Weisslynn witnesses a staring competition between two youths. There is this fairly handsome redhead with eyes of hazel brown and a fiery countenance. Then there is another lad with sandy blond hair and orbs of sapphire blue, his average looks relaying to her an image of inferiority.

"Oh, the princess is awake."

"Thank you,” Weisslynn takes a slight bow of gratitude before the red-haired youth, such is the only gesture she can come up with.

"Hey, she said that to you, Catts!" grins the blond, "Ha ha ha ha! At least Uncle Parky won’t grill me over this."

"Two things," retorts Catterm Leen with a growling face, "First, don’t thank me, moron. Secondly…"

Weisslynn is no fool, she knows the meaning behind such a look. If it's not the comely redhead, then surely it has to be…

"Thank this idiot for saving you, my fair lady,” grins Catterm as he turns towards Weisslynn suddenly. As for Gael, he starts squirming like an awkward lad stuck in a room full of beautiful women.

Weisslynn can only laugh out loud. When was the last time she had done so? She heard the offensive banter between two friends of the same gender, but there was something in their words making her feel that perhaps not all men are beasts.

)0(

"Leaving her at the care of some parish, aren’t you taking a risk?"

Tossing a quaint smile at the dark brooding hulk of a man, Tristan Aias rests a hand on the pommel of his curved dirk. Many are the men who lost their lives in the name of glory, that very same prize going to kings and the nobility alike. But there are also those surviving many wars and countless battles. Not by bravery lest death pays a visit the following day, neither is it through the verbal bravado many an elite craven has spoken before. It is by wits sharper than the finest sword that he has survived thus far, observation keener than the best blade wrought that he has emerged victorious. If Edeaux de Serpentwine is rightfully known as the Serpent of Histalonia, then Tristan Aias is deservedly called the Southern Fox. One manipulates the situation, the other dismantles circumstances. And both men boast of the same mentor, a legendary man of strategy and tactics named Heihou no Tae'Geuk.

"None of your concern," snaps Arondight, his shoulders tensed betraying animosity and suspicion. Had the Sudhlit not made the first move, the raging knight would have cut that smirking rogue in half. His chin and the area above the lips covered with well-trimmed fuzz, a leather jerkin is all that covers his torso. A curved short sword made in Sudhlit fashion is sheathed and belted on his left with a full quiver hanging from the right. A longbow of yew is holstered and strapped across his back, its make that of Teutonian craftsmanship. His dark curly hair is cut short and parted at the centre, the edges covering his ears. Leather pants held in place by a belt of plated iron, boots of leather grey completes a portrait of knavery.

"Of course it’s my concern," leans back the Sudhlit against a wall, his grinning visage deemed a mocking taunt to the living fortress of rage, "After all, I’m the one responsible for the recommendation, preparation, and accommodation."

"So you’re the one sending that letter without the sender's name."

"Give yourself some credit, will you? At least you did your homework before trusting me."

Then it all happened in an instant. With a single flick of his hand, Tristan draws out his blade. His eyes narrowed, Arondight wills his axe into existence. A gauntleted hand grabs Tristan's weapon by the edge as the Sudhlit daringly does the same to the haft of Arondight's axe. In a single moment, the duel is done. Only inches separate the two. The outcome is a draw, the verdict that of a stalemate.

"Moral of the story: Don’t unleash your Caladbolg in front of others," admonishes the Sudhlit schemer with a sombre face, a decision rebelling against what others perceived in him all the while, "You detected it, didn't you? Labyrinthos... the Library."

"What do you want?"

In response to Arondight’s attempt to interrogate him, Tristan relaxes and gestures to an armoured hand still holding fast his blade. That knight may be insane, but the Sudhlit dare predicts he's not insane enough to risk having his own power turning against him. For Tristan is a thief in ways more than one, a stealer of cards firstly and foremost. More importantly, he knows the knight cannot afford to let himself die. At least not here where his lady love will be staying nearby for at least a while.

"Nothing. I just want to tell you not to expose your cards. The outcome can be very catastrophic."

With those words, Tristan makes good his departure, his athletic form assimilating seamlessly into the crowd.

)0(

"What?"

"You hear me, Lolyx," smiles Barnes Asher, the elderly parish gesturing to an awkward maiden with shoulder length red hair, "Seelia will be staying with us. At least for now."

"Wow, that’s fast," quips a grinning Lolyx, "Never imagined I'm getting a sister."

"I owed someone a debt. He said it's payback time."

"What is he like?"

“A Sudhlit who enjoys dubious hobbies. Please don't ask me to elaborate what he does for leisure."

"Dad, I’m not stupid. Definitely, I'm not stupid compared to those arrogant snobs calling themselves part of the elite."

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Barnes Asher has to admit this daughter unrelated by blood is always his source of joy. While the animosity between Tamurians and Sudhlits is mutual, Lolyx has been largely spared from the bad blood pulsating for countless years. Her mother spent much of her years in the Furthest East as a Tamurian, her father was both a Cinha and a rich merchant's son. At least he used to be one before eloping with her mother.

"So we’re going to have two new employees under Adine’s dad," muses a cheeky Lolyx, her grin growing wider.

"What do you mean by two? I’m sure Seelia will be one of them. But two?"

"Because a certain somebody who is actually a nobody managed to save a naked damsel in distress like some retarded hero."

"I get it. I know who. That’s enough, Lolyx. Promise me you won't start a fight with Gael."

)0(

Joyful music fills the streets, this is the Festival of Lions. Legend has it that Ser Brus of Yorke won the hand of Lady Stavea Layne that day and repelled two armies on the very same day the following year. ‘Tis no feat a mortal can do, minstrels tend to sing. Such was the world during the War of the Three Thrones, so regaled every bard.

"I swear the next time you call me Laen, I’ll flay you like a dead cat!" snaps Catterm Leen, the redhead grabbing his best friend by the collar, "And don’t you dare laugh, Luk!"

"No, I won’t,” struggling to contain his amusement, Lukas Brun decides to watch the comedy unfold, "I’ll only smile and watch. That’s it. End of the tale."

Without a warning given, a fist collides into Catterm’s right eye.

"THAT’S IT! I’M GONNA FLAY YOU LIKE A DEAD CAT! YOU GET ME, GAEL KODR?"

Failing to restrain himself despite attempting a façade of calm, Lukas ends up bursting out into laughter. Even though he fears an unknown destination which a known journey will bring, he can't help but to enjoy the moment while it lasts. There used to be days where the androgynous youth desired a mundane life, his tomorrow now beyond the reach of today's promise.

"You got yourself a fine husband, Adine," winking at a willowy brunette behind him, Lukas gives a rueful smile, "While I’d like to see Alestrial Eliaden as well, I figure reality can be a preferable fate to an idealistic lie. He’s all yours."

With those words, the owner of Coral Sea departs from the place he has always called home. His business officially sold, a handsome profit earned is more than enough to last him a lifetime. As for Adine, something in her says something is amiss. As if her instincts as a woman is prophesying life will never be the same very soon, that everything is nothing bar the calm before a tempest readying its arrows. 

)0(

"Quick, loud, and he whips out his fist faster than a crossbow bolt."

"Is he really that bad?" asks an expressionless Seelia as Wiesslynn wears an astounded look.

"I won’t say he’s that bad. Call him retarded, moron, or a cretin instead," smirks Lolyx, "Apart from that, he’s fine. I have to tell the two of you this because he’s going to be your new boss."

"You mean getting married to the sole daughter of the current owner, Lolyx."

Wide-eyed with shock, Lolyx can only wonder why Alestrial Eliaden is standing before them. This is not a dream, yet Joenne Nantes and Karen Tenias are not with her.

"I told them I just want to spend this day by myself," smiles the Cinha as she takes her seat with fluid grace, something which is never a pretentious show.

"Well, let me…"

Dismissing Lolyx’s kind intent with a gentle wave of her hand, Alestrial Eliaden shakes her head. Always sick and tired of venomous barbs aimed behind her back, the Cinha knows much more than what others give her credit for. Having to tolerate patronising comments for the sake of bedding her, the adopted daughter of Louthes Eliaden understands plenty.

The quartet then hears a loud crash, their focus turning into stupefied stares. There they are, Gael Kodr and Catterm Leen with the latter sporting a black eye.

"Quick, loud, and he whips out his fist faster than a crossbow bolt," clucking her tongue, Lolyx can only jab an accusing thumb towards the troublesome duo, "And I’m not referring to the red one."

)0(

Everything abruptly becomes a still portrait to Gael, he can only vaguely register familiar faces. There is Lolyx who always enjoy talking him down. Wiesslynn is present as well. Alestrial, his beloved Ales who represents everything wrong with his dreams. A red-haired girl whom he has never met before is in front of him, a haunting beauty sparking off a strong tingle meandering inside him. Then something overwhelms him like an omnipotent assailant.

The voice of happy children and a gentle girl older than him…

He can’t discern her features apart from her long hair of red.

Then darkness engulfs him once more.

The feeling of being choked alive… the sensation of being strangled with an ominous voice cursing him as a traitor…

Then silence… darkness… emptiness…

)0(

"A thousand gratitude, Seelia," curtsies Alestrial, "Never have I imagined one like you having a poulter’s hands."

"The worse life gets, the more you have to learn," smiles the attractive redhead. Then she notices Lolyx wearing a glower while Adine maintains an awkward visage.

"Seelia, do you know what that moron nearly did to you?"

Trying to resolve the tension, Weisslynn’s attempt proves to be futile as Lolyx explodes into a state of apoplexy.

"He groped you! Erm, I mean... he nearly groped you!"

"Hate to defend this idiotic best friend of mine right here and right now, Seelia. But I swear it was an accident," pleads Catterm Leen on Gael’s behalf, his face exposing worry despite the situation leading to a farcical accident, "Although it’s his fault for punching me."

"Well, Lolyx did mention his fist coming out faster than a crossbow bolt," points out Weisslynn.

"Very funny, the two of you. Catts, I think you better break off with Elys so that Weisslynn will stand a chance," retorts Lolyx, "Thank the Holy Quintet that handsome jerk isn't around! Otherwise, I’d have gone totally crazy and you all have to lock me up in a sanatorium!"

"Handsome jerk?" asks Alestrial, an innocent curiosity adorning her fair visage, "Surely you have lost me, Lolyx."

"Erm… eh… nothing. I’m referring to a jerk in my dreams… WHY ARE YOU ALL LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT?"

)0(

I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die here…

A sudden pain in my chest… now it feels like a prick…

Warmth… something flowing through me… inside me…

What did he say… what did he look like… do I know him?

Wait, is that me? That man leading a pride of lions…

To where are they going?

It hurts… it suddenly hurts… a spear set aflame… why… why those words inside me?

A shaft of steel, a blade of fire.

A pride of lions march, a banner unfurled.

A lion amongst men, a boy’s pursuit.

A shepherd of lions, the Roar of Lions’ March.

)0(

Glossary:

Men of Redmarch: Somewhat mentioned in the first chapter, the Men of Redmarch hailed their origin from the Teutonian fief of Redmarch in the aftermath of a failed peasant revolt known as the Bloody Summer. Originally descendants of the vanquished, this mercenary company soon grew into a wide network of spies and saboteurs charging a steep fee for their service. Together with the Valkyries (leader: Brynhilda) and Elfstein (leader: Roin de Bladefort), the three leading sellsword organisations are collectively known as the Confederation.

Sudhlit: Basically my own version of the Tamil ethnicity with some African/Hamite cultural influences.

War of the Three Thrones: A civil war erupting amongst the Causaceans after the death of King Dyrius III (or more commonly known to historians as King Dyrius the Last) and the lack of an heir. Involving three factions which would eventually become the Kalaran Empire, Teutonia, and Slarvea (hence the name of the conflict), the war would last for a hundred years. Ultimately, there was no clear winner with the cause of armistice still hotly debated. Some said it was a group of religious men and women forcing the warring factions to see their wrongs (a view hotly disputed by many due to no records of any third party political power present). Others argued that no clear winner could and would be seen, a fact recognised by all three factions (despite a lack of substantial evidence, this is the most widely accepted view by both intellectuals and otherwise). Then there are whispers that diabolical beings known as demons were the cause of a reluctant peace (a view which, for some reason, would warrant arrest and trial for heresy via laws set down by the Holy Quintet Church). [Note: Before the war broke out, the continent of Nordeas was also the unified kingdom of Causacea. After the war, Causacea ceased to exist apart from being a byword for racial pride.]

)0(

Above song is upped due to my unwillingness to use the original OP and ED.
At least for this chapter, that is.

Additional track (because I blame Broskandar)

The Voice (of Nathan Hartono)

I blame the ppl in the (Singaporean)Mothership for this. In case you've yet to know it, Nathan Hartono was the protégé of Jay Chou in the first season of Sing! China. Since I'm pretty sure the whole Mandarin format is already a done deal, I suddenly asked myself one question: What if my super mignonne legal housebreaker cum stickwoman asks me which songs I'd like to hear Nathan croon? Not that I'm a fan of his (actually, I'm neutral to plenty of stuff when it comes to entertainment) ofc.

Before that, let me just say Mr Chou's style is not just about hip-hop. His songs can either be a standalone or any mixture of hip-hop, R&B, and traditional Chinese music. When it comes to lyrics, I find the songs can range from the Bruce Lee style to something like All-4-One's I Can Love You Like That. On the melancholic end, he can be a bit of Steve Perry's Foolish Heart.

So why am I so hyped about endorsing someone I'm neutral about? Because I got nothing better to do.

A/N: Pls note that I nvr say Mr Chow instead of Mr Chou in case my super mignonne legal housebreaker cum stickwoman decides to kill me in advance since she alrdy knew where I live.

A/N to Salted Fish: Don't you dare laugh. I know you will eventually read this post.

~Because I need to use a song to kick things off...~

Because all the songs in this post will be Mandarin songs, I might as well add a couple of non-Mandarin songs first. If you think my selection will be random, you're oh-so-terribly wrong. ;)

Apparently, the lyrics read like an alternate rebel-like little mermaid...

Lyrics

And now for the songs I figure Nathan Hartono might like to try singing. In Mandarin ofc...

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Legend_of_the_Condor_Heroes
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_The_Legend_of_the_Condor_Heroes_characters


Only if you understand Chinese


Also only if you understand Chinese


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Deer_and_the_Cauldron
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_The_Deer_and_the_Cauldron_characters


Sorry, too much Chinese...

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Heaven_Sword_and_Dragon_Saber
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_The_Heaven_Sword_and_Dragon_Saber_characters

This is dragging too long. Might as well I round this off with the songs I really like to hear Nathan croon. Solo, duet, or whatever.

P.S: Why is it that I'm hoping my super mignonne legal housebreaker cum stickwoman will get to see the 2 vids below?

越漂亮的女人果然越会撒谎。。。

Final P.S: My apologies for this very Chinese post. Now if only I can kick myself into writing a new chapter of A Requiem From Winter Past.

[冬の鎮魂曲] Sechs

It's official. For some funny reason, my super mignonne legal housebreaker cum stickwoman is still in America. Which means around one full month in the nation across Atlantic. It feels surreal. Very surreal especially given the smoke bomb message Salted Fish threw at me here. Insanely enough, the initials for Salted Fish reads S.F. The fake name of the real bride also goes by the same initials. I should have noticed it earlier. Salted Fish, I was right in calling you a betrayer around four tears ago (i.e. 2013). Then again, betrayer in this context is my own sense of humour.

A/N: I actually lost count on how long I've written the above author's note. Think maybe like around 2 weeks ago...

I suddenly realised I've written something N ages ago...

It's actually written in notepad. As in the Windows OS, not the physical one. Let me just do a copy+paste here.

The First Law: Magic is the result of mortal desires materialised.
The Second Law: Magic is limited by nature.
The Third Law: Nature is defined by Avalon and Yggdrasil.
The Fourth Law: Order and oblivion are the same, 'tis what makes magic as an act possible.
Chaos and life are the same, 'tis what makes magic as a form possible.
The Last Law: 'Tis possible for one's desire to override the limits imposed by the Second Law. Alas, the Crucible shall act straightaway and total annihilation awaits the one who rebelled.

While I still don't have a clear idea on where to take the above concept pertaining to my actual version of A Requiem From Winter Past (read: the written novel), I still find my Five Laws of Magic quite a job well done. Think I may have started to appreciate myself more.

Thanks to a coward...

I suddenly have a fair bit of inspiration. Thanks to the government, I may really end up throwing Tristan Aias into the next chapter. As those with an elephant's memory may still remember, Tristan Aias is a Sudhlit. What is a Sudhlit, you might ask. A Sudhlit is basically my own version of the Tamil race with a fair bit of desert culture chucked into the fray. And when we talk about desert culture, two regions come to mind: Africa and the Middle East. Also, I may need to change at least a few names.

1. Guy Cody (aka you know who)>>Gael Kodr (because Gael Kodr sounds more fantasy'esque)

2. Leesya (aka that random girl who escaped Aeravor's guano loco rampage in the previous draft)>>Weisslynn (because Weisslynn sounds more fantasy'esque).
3. Eliath de Serpentwine (aka that evil gay elf inspired by Euron Greyjoy)>>Edeaux de Serpentwine (because elvish names are quintessentially French in my Crucible)
4. Kerstein de Bladefort (aka the bishounen big boss of elven mercs)>>Roin de Bladefort (again, because elvish names are quintessentially French in my Crucible)

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2017/01/eins.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2017/02/zwei.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2017/04/drei.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2017/04/vier.html

http://glaive-d-barde.blogspot.com/2017/04/funf.html

The Old Man's Dare

"Will you play a game of cards with me? No wager involved, only idling away time itself. I find that such a joy tends to be better than worrying about the next dawn."

~The mysterious old man in the ruins of Napishtim

The Old Man's Dare as the mysterious elderly man calls it, this is a simple card game brought to life via magic. Like a chessboard with living pieces of ivory and black, a simple table of stone becomes a stage where the cards come to life.

Rules:

1. Choose one faction from the existing seven.

2. One deck consists of forty cards.

3. The first eight cards from the deck will be played directly from the beginning.

4. The next six cards will be drawn into your hand. The maximum number of cards in hand is seven.

5. During every turn, you can choose whether or not to draw a card from your deck and put it in your hand.
6. You must have at least three cards in your hand during any of your turn.

Format:

1. There are three formats to The Old Man's Dare. Namely, Duel, Brawl, and Alliance.

2. Duel mode involves only one player and the mysterious old man.

3. Brawl mode involves more than two parties (including the old man) pitting against each other.

4. Alliance mode will not involve the old man. Rather, it involves two teams of players going against each other.

Concluding the match:

1. In Duel mode, the match will end once a player's deck has been emptied together with his/her hand.

2. For Brawl mode, the match will continue until only one player remains in play with his/her deck.

3. For Alliance mode, the match will only end if either one team has depleted every member's deck or the losing team decides to abdicate before this happens. For the latter case to happen, one member must initiate an abdication first for the party members to vote. The majority vote wins. If only one player in the team remains in the match, however, the decision to initiate an abdication will automatically result in a default loss.

)0(

Order of turn:
Strategy phase-Only in the beginning of any match. Players decide which faction to use. Only one faction can be played by any player. At the same time, every player must select which cards to use in his/her deck and the number of respective cards chosen this way.

Deployment phase-Player decides which cards to place in the vanguard, main camp, and rear guard zones respectively. This is also the phase where any card is played from the hand.

Command phase-Player declares which card(s) to use and which player(s)/card(s) to target. During this phase, this player will be seen as attacking while any player targeted will be seen as defending.

Resolution phase-All actions performed by the cards used are resolved. The attacking player will always resolve his/her own card actions, after which the defending player will do the same.

Conclusion phase-Any cards no longer in play as a result of the resolution phase will be removed from the game. At the same time, any healing cards can only be used in this phase.

)0(

Card types available:
Unit-Military units at the respective factions' disposal. More than one unit cards of the same kind can be put in play.

Infrastructure-Buildings used for support purposes. Only five infrastructure cards at most can be included in any deck.

Character-Unique characters in the world called Crucible. Only one character card of the same name can be available for any deck. Only four character cards at most can be included in any deck.

Magic-Cards available via every manner of magic the player managed to create successfully in the realm of Yggdrasil. Once the effect expires, any Magic card must be removed from play. Only ten magic cards can be included in any deck. Magic cards available are generated by random. Unlike other cards, magic cards can only be played during the command phase.

Grail-Unique equipment cards which only the respective character cards can use. A Grail card can only be put in play once its owner character is already in play. If the owner character is removed from play, remove that Grail card as well. Grail cards will be included in any deck if that card's owner is also included in the same deck.

)0(

How card availability works:

When you first select any given faction, you will gain a fixed list of cards for you to choose from. As you start earning currency in the form of crowns, quarters, and pence via a combination of victories and performances, you can purchase lockboxes from a travelling merchant NPC who may/may not accidentally look like her.

However, please note that your starting list won't include character, magic, and grail cards as they must be obtained via lockbox rewards.

Next up: Because I need to sleep asap, I decided to leave the rest for the next post. Basically a case of merchandise and factions.

P.S: Did my super mignonne legal housebreaker cum stickwoman did a legal housebreak again this morning? Or perhaps it's any of her BFFs trying to prank me for some stunt I pulled off in my blog(s) at the expense of my super mignonne legal housebreaker cum stickwoman? Either way, someone was definitely guilty of playing with my keys. In a harmless way ofc.

Smoke bomb

Yesterday, I received another wedding invitation. My friend (let's just call him Salted Fish) is finally getting hitched. Funnily enough, the name of the bride was different from the name he mentioned before. And when I say mentioned, I mean in front of everyone in the room. So what does this mean?

Quite obviously, it means that he threw a smoke bomb. Problem was, I was pretty sure everyone in the room knew who the bride was. In other words, the smoke bomb wasn't directed at the rest, but rather that one fellow. Namely, yours truly.

So why did he do that? There can only be one reason: He knew the identity of my super mignonne legal housebreaker cum stickwoman. And he's using this method to tell me that... well, there's this stupid girl waiting for me since 2013 and that my guess on her actual identity is spot on.

~Thanks, Salted Fish. You have told me the real identity of my super mignonne Lady Rowena~
~Also, may you have a blessed marriage~





Lyrics



Lyrics





Lyrics



Lyrics

A/N: Because I feel like sending a message of sorts across, I decided to up a few vids.

http://witcher.wikia.com/wiki/Priscilla#Trivia

http://witcher.wikia.com/wiki/Toussaint