Chimes at Midnight, and other hours I missed while recapping the party

[azurelunatic]

So this evening was the release party at Borderlands Books for Seanan McGuire's latest and 7th addition to the October Daye series, Chimes at Midnight, which is glorious and has hitting and also many lovely and occasionally bloody and horrible things. You all should pick up the series; I particularly recommend it to my chatfish on the strength of several things including the fact that Toby spends 14 years before the start of the series as a koi in a San Francisco pond. It's amazing. FISH.

I arrived well early for the party. I meant to try and start out even earlier, but I didn't wind up doing that. (I did do a lot of dealing with clean laundry, though, and hauling down the suitcases, so that was actively productive.) I was glad of my decision to not wear the boots that would have made me unsteady on my feet, as badass as they would have looked. I'd thought that perhaps I could wear them and carry my sandals and change if things felt wrong, but I was tippy enough just in general that I noped right out after wearing them around the apartment a bit.

The day was all bright and sunny, which was kind of lovely weather for walking in the Mission -- I do love a good fog, but this was the sort of autumn sun that's still bright while it's no longer hot. Borderlands is sometimes foggy, but it wasn't right then. I got the book, flailed about it for a bit at Na'amen, got a cup of hot chocolate, and sat down at a table with my little notebook to enjoy it properly. I've learned the hard way that it's good for me to have the book entirely read by Q&A time, because if I don't, I will be twitchy about spoilers and stuffing my fingers in my ears and humming quietly to myself is not actually one of the fun parts of being at a Seanan party. Plus, this was the one that Seanan said had a bit set in Borderlands, and it's really sort of surreal to read about the place you're in while you're in it. I was on the lookout for it from the first page.

The end of the author's note had me frantically texting Twitter and trying to remember supergirl_sass's username because the Twitter app seems to have broken autocomplete or some shit. The amount of time that took me, and the fact that a bounty is probably in force for people providing rampant spoilers, convinced me that the notebook would be best. Sadly the notebook in my pocket was not fully blank -- it was already half full from a previous movie -- but fortunately while seated at a table in the light I write much smaller and more neatly than in a movie theatre in the dark. Partway in I realized that I really should add page numbers to that shit, so while the first parts are not numbered, the later bits all are, in varying amounts of tidiness and coherence. A few pages in, I thought of the first question that was likely to actually require an authorial answer, and scribbled it down at the end of the book on the flip side, so it would be right-side up when opening the book from the back. That way I would be sure of remembering to ask it.

Reading at a cafe table is actually sort of distracting. There are all sorts of busy things going on around you -- at one point I invited a random dude who didn't have a free table to join me -- and this can detract slightly from the un-interrupted book experience. It can also add to it in unexpected ways. At one point, the sandy-haired young guy in the bandanna behind the counter said that he wanted to be an octopus, because that would make his job so much easier. There are in fact octopus-fae in this universe, and once these things collided in my head, I was deeply, deeply amused. I may draw fanart.

I emailed afuna to see if she could make it; sadly, she was off doing other things and wouldn't make it back until late, despite my irresistable invitation ("Come! You'll cry! It'll be awesome!" -- because Fu is clearly and obviously a Wicked Girl Saving Herself, like many of the excellent women I know).

At a little past 4pm, the promised parade of musicians and equipment commenced. This rendered no part of the cafe particularly restful, but it was amazingly entertaining. Seanan's mother was visible outside, wrangling with a car. Jeff Bohnhoff toted things, some of them comically large. Small children paraded in and out, with items much better suited to their size and strength. Upon finishing up with my beverage and snack, I popped up in search of early event seating.

Someone I didn't recognize hailed me, and said that watching me read the book was a great advertisement for it -- watching my reactions and how much fun I was having reading it would have convinced her to pick it up herself if she hadn't already bought and read it. So that was kind of awesome!

The much-vaunted squashy brown chair had just become unoccupied. I claimed it. There I sat reading, much less visually distracted, as chaos occurred around me. Seanan's mother appeared. Seanan appeared. Seanan charged me with whacking with my cane anyone who fucked with her mother's purse. Seanan and her mother disappeared in various directions, with and without cigarettes. Seanan reappeared. For reasons that made sense at the time, I volunteered that norabombay refuses to share porn with her mother, which was roundly hailed as an excellent life choice. Seanan's mother reappeared. Seanan's mother commenced stringing event staff badges with appropriately (candy corn and orange glitter) themed ribbon. Seanan's mother ran out of ribbon. I offered up the not-currently-in-use black skein of yarn. Seanan's mother approved, and continued stringing.

There was the ceremonial introduction, much yay-ing, laughter, the distribution of tickets, the first drawing, and some music. I missed much of this due to being embroiled in a particularly climactic bit or two. There was much flailing. Tif came over to squee/flail about an early bit: she'd just started reading. I closed my book in order to make sure that her eyes were averted from a PARTICULARLY JUICY Quentin scene. I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT. HA! Oh, Toby.

One of the bits I did catch was a running joke about the SECRET 31ST PRIZE in addition to the 30 prizes laid out on the raffle table; the 31st was either a bucket of tomatoes from Seanan's mom's garden, or something else, but no-one but Seanan knew which. Seanan's love for tomatoes is well-known. The best part -- you know how some people have lives that have given them a few good stories, but spending more time with them does not mean that you get to hear more and better stories, because either they only have that small selection of good story fodder to draw from, or else they really don't want to share the other ones, not even with folks who are around a little more? Seanan is not one of those people. More surreal things than I can count have already happened to Seanan, and those are just the ones that she's generally blogged about. Further surreal things continue to happen in her life, both because she causes surreal things to happen, and because surreal things just happen unto her. This was the first time I had heard about an incident where she was about the age of one of the small children who had been toting music gear, her mother was in a relationship with someone who grew prizewinning huge tomatoes, and how she had thrown a few spanners into this relationship by reason of happily eating a previously potentially prizewinning tomato approximately the size of her own head. Seanan loves tomatoes.

The official signing portion of the evening commenced. I nipped in to the bookstore side, joined the debate over which flavor of cupcake was which (there were two chocolate-brown cupcakes with frosting that could be described as "brown"; one was dairy-free and one was mudslide), grabbed one with the lighter brown frosting, tasted, and declared it mudslide. Nom. I then scampered back to my comfortable chair to enjoy my cupcake in peace and relative quiet while I devoured the book at the toppest speed possible while the line died down.

After a certain amount of time in which I still had not finished the book but decided I'd better go get signed while the getting was good, I popped back over, discovering the line to be much reduced. I kept reading eagerly, as there was currently HITTING. Oh boy, how I love fictional hitting! I explained this to the person in front of me in line, who had read it the first night out on Kindle. She asked which part. Evocative hand gestures, involving the Vulcan salute, but sideways, and with much whomping, ensued. "Ahhh," she said wisely. "That. Yeah, that was good."

It turns out that when I attempt to write my name upside-down, the "Z"s come out looking like oddly angular "S"s. This is not a good plan for a book signing note, so I had to scribble out and re-do the note. My name is not difficult to spell, but at the signing portion of the evening, Seanan will reliably ask people she has known for years how to spell their names (as witness Tif, behind me in line). Therefore, a written note was in order. One of the logistics things that large-event book signings will do is have a bookstore minion with a pad of sticky-notes and a large black marker, but either nobody made that happen at this one, or they had run out by the time the end of the line got there.

We all scurried back to the cafe, where Seanan had underestimated the time that the signing would take, so things were a bit behind-schedule. I remember there being more music, but my face was still inside the rapidly climaxing book. One thing that throws me off my estimation of remaining book length is the presence of various previews, trailers, and ads at the end of the thing, so the ending smacked me up a bit suddenly. It wasn't that it was poorly telegraphed, it was merely a book-size function, even though I should have been expecting an excerpt from an upcoming work. So by the time the Q&A started, I had finished. Hooray! At that point I realized that my phone was getting low on battery, so I found the external battery pack.

After finishing the book, I broke out my crocheting project. Seanan's mom exclaimed over it, especially when I showed off some of the finished bits, and had to immediately go to YouTube and share shiny things with me.

One of the lovely things about Seanan signings are the bits of pure hilarity and the random stories. Somehow, and I'm not entirely sure how, the Q&A started off with Random Seanan Anecdote, regarding beefsteak, and beefsteak in Texas as opposed to San Francisco. The amount of steak that $20 will buy you becomes a lot larger the closer you are to the cow, in general, and, Seanan related, Texas steakhouses understand "blue" as a cooking instruction. She finished her anecdote, involving her gloriously and bloodily devouring beefsteak, and looked up to realize how many vegans were in the audience. She quickly changed the subject to Q&A time! She noted that as there were folks in the audience who had not yet read the new one, that things involving spoilers might involve the code word "bunny" in order to obscure things from anyone who didn't know what was being discussed by context.

I was, surprisingly, up first, with the very important question that I had noted down while reading. "If I were to make an actual pie, out of ... bunnies, ... what --"

At approximately this juncture, the rules were revised. (As rules do often need to be, once they come in contact with me. I still know how to sign "zombie sex". Seanan says "zombie" in the Newsflesh universe is arms extended straight out, hands limp, and shamble the shoulders forward, one at a time, twice each. "Sex", you can look up yourself.) The general spoiler placeholder term remained "bunny", but for things that were actual foodstuffs, putative foodstuffs, or would involve culinarily-themed discussion of spoilerific items, the supplementary code word was now "cactus".

"So supposing I made a cactus pie," I continued.

The answer, for those following along, is blackberry-raspberry-strawberry, with the strawberries sliced for that amazing somewhat slimy strawberry-pie texture. Someone in the audience who is familiar with the blackberry-raspberry-strawberry combination in the context of pastry confirmed that yes, this remains tasting as delicious as a pie of any of the component fruits tastes alone. Tif informed me that if I was making any of that, I'd damn well better be making it in a gluten-free pie crust, because she was going to have to be having some. Noted!

At some point during the evening, it struck me as a great idea to change my Twitter display name from "Space Marine Azz" to "Auntie Antigone". It still seems like a good idea after 2 in the morning, so Ted Mosby's mom is so totally wrong.

One of the questions that always comes up at the Q&A sessions for the Toby books is about what other sorts of fey will we see. The answer always involves the constraint that in this world, all magical sentient beings are descended from the originals, who are Oberon, Titania, and um. I think there's a third? But that's it -- and this constrains the possible inclusion of certain other magical beings from different creation myth traditions. If the origin story for that race does not contain one of those three, there's a strong caution in terms of cultural sensitivity. If the origin story explicitly involves other deities, including those races would be cultural appropriation, not being inclusive, and would be purely a dick move.

This time Seanan expressed in as many words that the Oberon-Titania-and-maybe-Zeus? constraint was a function of the first book in the series being her first actual book, and it was not a choice she'd make now (having leveled up some since) but it was still the constraint of the series, so she would continue to work within it. From a writing-craft viewpoint, I realize now that I would love to have asked a follow-up, about how she might handle it now, if she were magically able to clean-slate that world and rebuild it as she pleased. I didn't think of that then, alas. Someone did ask the classic follow-up question, about InCryptid, and the answer was as ever: basically any creature or being from any mythological background that ever existed or was thought of can fit into the InCryptid universe without having to be cram-jammed sideways into a Western-centric view.

Seanan went off on what sounded like a tangent at one point, asking who had seen Leverage. And who had seen the Lizzie Bennett Diaries. Plus a few other random-sounding but with awesome reputation things. The point of this, as we soon discovered, and the common thread, was that people associated with all of these things had either optioned, or was part of the creative team for the optioning, of a Toby television series. (!!!!) When someone mentioned The Middle-Man as another thing that the writer had worked on, I was all in.

She said it's just optioned at this point, and the people are talking to places, but omg. She said that she'd not have any writing or creative control, it would be all them, but they're awesome. "Six Seasons And A Movie!" shouted the peanut gallery (it's a very large peanut gallery, and this one wasn't even on my side of the room). She further pointed out that three crappy episodes and a cancellation for the Dresden Files bumped those books up into super bestsellers. So. That happened. That is a thing that she announced that I am totally not hallucinating.

Just before the next raffle, Alan, the owner of Borderlands, called out that he'd like to make an announcement. He came up front. Apparently there was a not-very-well-known, long-running contest, of a mysterious variety. He was proud to announce that it had, at long last, been won. The prize was a steak dinner, or another equivalently priced dinner, on him. The subject of the contest? Well. Ever since Borderlands had opened, he had been waiting for part of a published book to be set there. Seanan had done it. Seanan had won the prize. It was a touching and emotional moment, not diminished by the mental image from the previous portion, of Seanan demolishing a large beefsteak by hand, disdaining with these things that more constrained humans call "utensils" and maybe even "table manners".

Seanan: Knock-knock.
Audience: Who's there?
Seanan: Hungry velociraptor.
Audience *suspecting something but cooperating*: Hungry velociraptor who?
Seanan: AND THIS IS WHY WE'RE NOT GOING TO PUT YOU IN CHARGE OF ANSWERING THE DOOR.

Various people were filtering out to other bits of the venue when the Bohnhoffs and Mary launched into the opening bits of Carry-Ons, and the fangirl in the renfair gear and the long cloak made a double-take, and doubled right back to her seat. :D

The final prize drawing happened, with much yay-ing. I won, and passed my other ticket off to Tif as I went off as I knew I'd take some time, only to see her heading in the direction of the prize table with the ticket I'd just handed her. Then Seanan's mother won. (Seanan's mother passed.) Tif came back only to win again, which she passed. Tif later said that she'd been drawn three times, and I had trouble recalling the first time until a pink spot in my memory from behind my head said "That's me!" in Tif's voice, which seemed to indicate that the first time had been during the first round when I was still face-down in the book. This time there wasn't any of the truly epic cascading ticketholder moments (person A wins, hands excess tickets to person B, who wins, and hands off to person C, who also wins, and so forth for about five people) but it felt like fewer of the early night people had left their tickets with friends or random strangers. The ghost of Rose Marshall was not-winning a lot of prizes this round.

The last musical number of the night was, as always, "Wicked Girls". Oddly enough, this time I was singing strong and proud through the final chorus, didn't realize that it was the final chorus at all, and didn't actually break down weeping (which I usually do). "And now, the weather," Seanan joked as the applause died down.

She called for one last round of quick questions, just in case anybody had any left over. It looked like no one did, but I'd just had a thought. I asked Seanan whether she was thinking of submitting any weather to Night Vale. She said that she doesn't have anything recorded right now that she thinks would be suitable, but that the Bohnhoffs are going into the studio relatively soon, and she thinks that perhaps they might want to consider doing something. Of their existing works, I think High Desert sounds like weather.

Also, there's a local event coming up, which made me very excited until I realized what the date was -- there are many interesting things going on that day, and I will miss all of them due to being on a plane. Including Satellite High. There was a very surreal moment where basically the entire audience started chanting along with Seanan.

I mentioned the octopus-fae thing to the dude who wanted to be an octopus, and he was delighted and amused.

It was closing time. In the process of filtering out, I started chatting with the person who had been sitting across the aisle in renfair gear (the other one, not the one in the cloak, but her friend), embroidering a lovely multi-religious-symbol piece. She mentioned the cupcake she'd had, and hopped up and down, illustrating her current sugar-fueled state. One of her friends mentioned how deeply uncomfortable they were with her doing this with a large pair of shears stuffed down her "large tracts of land". She extracted the shears. One of her other friends, in a really awesome red and white print dress, examined her own rather more well-endowed cleavage. "If hers are 'large tracts of land', mine are an entire country," she said. I looked down as well. "Dwarf planets," I declared. (But, which of my tits is Pluto, and which one is Eris?) Comparatively speaking, the analogy only works if red-and-white-print was speaking of a smallish country, like something in Europe, because Pluto looks smaller across than an Earth continent.

Seanan sent us off with a Goodnight Moon stanza that made me realize that "corn" rhymes with "porn", but that was not the rhyme she used. This did make me giggle for the next thirty seconds, however.

I walked with Tif until our paths diverged. Tif mentioned that she smelled roses while we waited on a corner for the light to change. I sniffed, but the night air didn't seem to carry that scent to me. Then I thought about it a minute -- "You might be smelling my perfume," I confessed. BPAL and all, there's no replacing the favorite perfume of your early years. Unfortunately, they seem to have discontinued the original formulation of their perfume, which has reached correspondingly astronomical prices on Amazon.

We encountered what looked like a couple on what looked like an early relationship date, as we examined a new chocolate place. "I thought all girls super loved chocolate," he teasingly said after she allowed as how she wasn't all that into it. "Nope," Tif said. "Nope," I said. Sometimes that is sort of awkward, to have a complete stranger on the street bust into your conversation, but I'm pretty sure we both have a preference for busting sexist stereotypes that overrides our Well Socialized Ladies Don't Do This Thing training.

Since my phone was plugged in to its juice box, I had it somewhere in the depths of my bag rather than in my cardigan pocket where it usually lives, so it took me nearly the entire wait for the train to extract it. So I was actually off BART and to my car before I got a chance to express my feelings to the internet, which I made sure to do before actually starting the drive home, they were just in that immediate need of expressing.

Later, I intend to post my reactions to the book in the by-now-customary format, but that can wait until well after I've slept. I had amazing fun as always.

Comments

[alexseanchai]

The name you're looking for to go with Oberon and Titania is Maeve. Best I can figure, McGuire (not having met her, I default to 'we are not on a first-name basis') looked at Shakespeare's fairies and decided 'Mab' wasn't a good enough name, but 'Maeve' is basically the same name.

Sounds like you had a ball. Wish I coulda been there.

[azurelunatic]

It was lovely! I hope at some point you do happen to be local to one of these parties (either here, or somewhere else), because they are always a blast.

[alexseanchai]

:)

[rymenhild]

When I lived in Berkeley, there was ALWAYS some reason I couldn't make the Seanan McGuire Borderlands parties. Now I live in Philadelphia and there are really good reasons why I can't make the parties. But oh, I wish I could.

The party report is awesome. Thanks so much for sharing. (But I wouldn't make a ... cactus ... pie. EVIL.)

With the Quentin thing, I saw it coming -- before I turned the page to get to it, I was chanting, out loud, QUENTIN! QUENTIN! QUENTIN! and my girlfriend was giving me strange looks. This did not make me any less delighted when I was right. Oh, Toby indeed. She's lovely and badass and wonderful, but every so often our changeling detective just fails to detect.

I should clean up the email I sent to my best friend, with a long discussion of who I think a character name-checked twice in CaM actually is and why I think so, and post it to Dreamwidth to entertain the ... three? people on my friendslist who have read Chimes and would appreciate it. After the grading is done, I think.

[elf]

Seanan will reliably ask people she has known for years how to spell their names

She's from here. She knows that every once in a while, even someone you know for YEARS will decide their name is now "Steve, with a Y." (Styve?) Or that they've added a "silent 3" in the middle "for tax purposes." And that's on top of the standard lack-of-memory that comes with large fast-moving crowds.

[azurelunatic]

That makes entire sense. I'm not From Here, but I'm from the internet now.

I know the brainfry thing.

[cme]

I ALSO KNEW IT ABOUT QUENTIN AND HAVE FOR SEVERAL BOOKS NOW. That was extremely satisfying!

And thank you for asking that question, as it was one I was also curious about! Although I was eating the best nectarine of my ENTIRE LIFE during that scene, which I suspect will always color my impressions. (Seriously, it was a MAGIC NECTARINE.)

I am now re-reading the entire series in light of things we've learned about Toby, her family, her extended family, and assorted other major players. I have another Theory about the identity of a character, and I wonder if it is the same as rymenhild's Theory. :D (It's jarring to read Toby talking about her mother in Chimes and then immediately read her talking about her mother in Rosemary and Rue. Also I have another Theory about Amandine and Lily.)

One of the things that has started speaking to me about this series is the repeated themes of truth, family, and lies. The stunning revelations about how Toby came to be where she is and how, and in what ways, her social position and her relationships have to do with things she was never allowed to know about her family and *their* positions and relationships- that speaks to me, a lot.

[rymenhild]

My Theory, in ROT13: Rven Ebflaujle jnf/vf (orpnhfr bs pbhefr fur'yy or onpx) Riravat Jvagreebfr.

[cme]

YES that is exactly my Theory! :D :D When it occurred to me that fur vf Bpgbore'f nhag nf jryy, ure npgvbaf naq ure rkgerzryl pbzcyvpngrq eryngvbafuvc jvgu Gbol va Ebfrznel naq Ehr znqr zhpu zber frafr. And a close reading of comments made by other characters in that book give several more clues to support this Theory.

[rymenhild]

Yes yes yes. Gur Yhvqnrt, jub arire yvrf, fnvq, "V qba'g xabj jub ceharq gur Jvagreebfr." Ceharq. Abg xvyyrq. Vg'f n irel, irel vagrerfgvat ireo.

V nyfb fgebatyl fhfcrpg, fvapr gur Yhvqnrt qbrf ersre gb Rven nf ure fvfgre va gur Puvzrf obahf fgbel, gung Rven/Riravat vf gur bar jub tbg gur Ebnar xvyyrq.

Naq gung Riravat znavchyngrq Qriva vagb xvyyvat ure va gur svefg cynpr va beqre gb trg Gbol onpx vagb gur tnzr.

What is your theory about Amandine and Lily?

[cme]

Oh my! That's much farther than I had gotten. V unq rfcrpvnyyl zvffrq "ceharq". (Gubhtu jr xabj gung Rven zhfg or gur Yhvqnrt'f fvfgre orpnhfr fur'f gur Qnbvar Svefgobea. Gbol vf qbbzrq gb greevslvat nhagf!)

Abj gung V guvax nobhg vg zber, V guvax lbh zhfg or evtug gung Rven pnhfrq gur trabpvqr bs gur Ebnar. Naq gur Yhvqrnt gnyxf nobhg ubj gurer'f n ybat jne orgjrra urefrys naq Rven naq gung Nznaqvar naq Gbol'f enpr ner gur xrl gb ure abg ybfvat vg. OHG NYFB, bar ubcr purfg jnf tvira gb Nagvtbar naq bar gb ure qverfg rarzl, naq Riravat unq Tbyqraterra naq Rven vf gur Yhvqnrt'f qverfg rarzl.

Znavchyngvat Qriva vagb xvyyvat ure gb trg Gbol onpx vagb guvatf (naq znlor gb znxr fher Ubzr jnf qrfgeblrq, naq gung Gbol pbhyq arire tb onpx gurer?) jbhyq or gur fbeg bs pehryyl uvtu-unaqrq guvat gung Riravat jbhyq qb. Naq, lbh xabj, jr'ir arire zrg gur Riravat unhag. Jr zrrg nyy gur bgure unhagf bs crbcyr Gbol'f ybirq be ungrq be xvyyrq, ohg abg Riravat'f.

Zl gurbel gurer vf gung Nznaqvar naq Yvyl jrer ybiref va Nznaqvar'f lbhgu.

[rymenhild]

Oh, definitely -- I think I saw Word of God on that point.

As for the rest, while I'm delighted that you agree with me, I should say that my record for guessing villains in Seanan McGuire's fiction is 0/2 to this point, so I could totally be wrong! (For a while I thought Sylvester was secretly evil and Raysel was bitter and hateful to him because she was the only one who knew that. And that Sylvester and Simon were actually the same person.)

[azurelunatic]

Ooo, "ceharq", heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[azurelunatic]

Ooo. :D

[silveradept]

...I has a sad for not being able to see this in person. Because it sounds Awesome.

[azurelunatic]

I hope that someday you will be able to arrange to be local to a Seanan book launch party, because they are indeed Awesome.

[azurelunatic]

After the pandemonium, I hope there will be a full-on production again.

My written notes, typed up a few years later

[azurelunatic]

03:38 PM Sunday, December 4, 2016
Chimes @ Midnight

SASS YOU MUST READ THIS GOBLIN FRUIT

GOBLIN FRUIT JAM

LISA FRANK NIGHT HAUNTS

LITTLE FISH ENDEARMENT

LEATHER PANTS TYBALT

fucking queen

fish. I rec to TDL fandom b/c fish.

banished. Time to meet Q's dad.

Auntie L!

Auntie L's burrito.

Tybalt's burrito. KITTY.

ART LOCATION :D
47

Tybalt sleep 52

whaleshit 57

overthrow giggle 60

hotglued to unicorn 63

library! 65

BOOKS 71

Famous! 77

keyboard walking past TREE 78.

81 absolute heroism

blund dude @ cafe: "I wish I was an octopus. It would make this job so much easier."

Auntie L 86/87 sleep #bees

92 well done

BORDERLANDS 98
* now has door
* now has wifi

RIPLEY 100

115-117 emetophobia tw (mention)

122 ARMY (you and whose)

Q princesses 124

cephali = octopus; fanart of blond coffee boy as cephali 125

hee ribbon subterfuge 129

can has chzbrgr 130

Spike yay 133

OH SHIT PIE 136

but but but changed 143

shit 144

coffee 162

tw 170

omg jam 175

blood 177

blood m&ms 179

Antigone 187

FLAIL OMG hooooooooly shit 189

Oberon's scrotum 191

ballet :) 193

I like Mags 197

the course of true love 201

JERK 209

QUENTIN I KNEW IT

236

Westlands
Crafty! 256

aww Madden 262

aaaa 264

oh honey 266

zomg. (continuously)

May. :D 272-3

omfg Tybalt 281

oh my fuck. 284

hitting :) 286

mermaid 287

291 HITTING

hooooope 292

STABBY 296

covered in blood 301

fuckheads 310

fuck 314 fuck

mechanics 327

starfish 330

fff siren 332

Sap 333

hooolyfuck 333

holy. holy. no. you started it
lol
334

Noootybaltnooo 335

337 yay escape

Siiiren 340

oh May ilu 343

hi Q's parents! 346

holy auntie 352

---

Q&A

What does goblin fruit taste like? Besides sweet sweet evil.

Piie
blackberry
raspberry
sliced strawberry

Sheep pattern

[azurelunatic]

crocheting
9 hemispheres
magic circle 6
around 6
increase to 12
2x around @ 12