Madalena stood on her balcony, in her castle perched high on a cliffside overlooking her vast and endless empire. "This is the best life has ever been. Everything I wanted is now mine... Yet sometimes it seems that there's something out there that eludes me, something I can neither buy nor take. But that's crazy! Who would dare deny me? Deceive or defy me? None at all! Well, almost none!"
Newly minted First Desk Diana Taverner visits the Folly to find out who this Thomas Nightingale fellow is, and learns a few things about London that are closer to home than she expects.
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savagelove_feed Dec. 25th, 2025 08:31 pm)No Struggle Session today because it’s Christmas and I’m in a sex dungeon in Europe — no, wait: I’m doing wholesome things with family. (I’m literally baking a cake right now.) But I’ve got an interesting AQFARTIFROLOTGOMIITC for anyone who isn’t celebrating Christmas or is done celebrating Christmas or doesn’t celebrate Christmas until January. So, … Read More »
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yuletide comm!
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Admin Post: Snap, Reccle, Pop! Rec Index Post 2025yuletide) about where you can post your recs.
Here's the description: On an island in the middle of the sea stands a massive maze known as the "Yggdrasil Labyrinth", which has been attracting adventurers from all over the world for years.
No one knows how deep it goes, or if there's anything at its end.
Some say there's a treasure of immeasurable value hidden within, while others claim the remnants of a lost civilization lie there.
In the game you'll play as Nyx, a young adventurer who joins the guild of Talrega with the goal of unraveling the Labyrinth's mysteries.
But something goes terribly wrong…
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lysimache had gifted me an ebook entitled Here Comes the Pizzer: The Found Poetry of Baseball Broadcasts, by Eric Poulin, so I guess that's what we'll be doing dramatic readings of aloud for Christmas Eve. While eating pizza.
autobotscoutriella posting in purimgifts Dec. 24th, 2025 12:59 pm)
Will saw there only a gap in the crowd, with beyond it the group of musicians. As he stood there, they struck up once more 'Good King Wenceslas', the carol they had been playing when first he entered the room, through the Doors. Merrily the whole gathering joined in singing, and then the next verse came and Merriman's deep voice was ringing out across the room, and Will realised, blinking, that the verse to come was his.
He drew breath, and raised his head.
Sire he lives a good league hence,
Underneath the mountain ...
And there was no moment of farewell, no moment in which he saw the nineteenth century vanish away, but suddenly with no awareness of change, as he sang he knew that Time had somehow blinked, and another young voice was singing with him, the two of them so nearly simultaneous that anyone who could not see the lips moving would have sworn that it was one boy's voice alone . . .
[...]
On Christmas night, Will always slept with James. Both twin beds were still in James's room from the time before Will had moved up to Stephen's attic. The only difference now was that James kept Will's old bed piled with op art cushions, and referred to it as 'my chaise longue'. There was something about Christmas Eve, they both felt, that demanded company; one needed somebody to whisper to, during the warm beautiful dream-taut moments between hanging the empty stocking at the end of the bed, and dropping into the cosy oblivion that would flower into the marvel of Christmas morning.
And it was the same as it always was, as he lay curled up happily in his snug wrappings, promising himself that he would stay awake, until, until...
... until he woke, in the dim morning room with a glimmer of light creeping round the dark square of the curtained window, and saw and heard nothing for an enchanted expectant space, because all his senses were concentrated on the weighty feel, over and around his blanketed feet, of strange bumps and corners and shapes that had not been there when he fell asleep. And it was Christmas Day.
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