It has been too long a time since Morgoth fed upon the fear of the Mansion Dwellers. He feels His power diminishing because of it, or perhaps it is that He needs it to feel alive ( Read more... )

This year, for Klingsor, he of the often wildly-growing garden patch at the bottom of the garden, things are different. This year, he has a mission: besides insinuating himself among some of the good folk of the Mansion, he has a task, appointed him by a dark lord lurking in the hills. He still poses as the crotchety gardener who prefers the ( Read more... )

The time has come for works to begin. Ned is waiting for words from Captain Reynolds, who told him he would find more workers, but he did in fact begin to amass his forces. First comes digging: if the home is to withstand the elements, its foundations must be solid, merged in rock ( Read more... )

Spring has arrived, at least according to the angle of the sun, but the winter snows hold on, tenaciously, like vines that refuse to yield to the pruning hook ( Read more... )

It's been on his mind before the catastrophe, but now the project has bloomed more completely into Ned's mind. It was in the would be nice category before - now it's moved into a category of urgency he wasn't aware of. He's not risking losing Cat again, and he's got the children to think of. The girls are nigh grown, Robb is a man, but now, they ( Read more... )

Sure there was the fact that he may be a dad, and the fact that Superjail II will be hard work to get off the ground. But The Warden didn't care, he had a partner, a person that did not think his ideas were far-fetched and even... 'crazy'. She even was willing to help him out, the wonderful woman ( Read more... )

This summer has a unique situation: there's a blue moon at the end of the summer, as the days grow shorter and the angle the sun grows lower, leading to cooler days. Klingsor, anticipating it, has harvested the remaining melons and has already uprooted the vines ( Read more... )

This year, Klingsor is sure that he won't have the same fiasco on his hands that he did last summer. He placed wards around the melon patch as well as the bounds of his garden, reinforcing them with an extra bit of his will every few days. He's sure he's covered, that the garden will be protected and the powers in this place won't tamper with his ( Read more... )

She's won.

All these years, all this time and finally, finally she has won. Agamemnon lies dead, his barbarian woman brought home to mock her with him, and Iphigenia will run to embrace him in the fields of the dead, and she hopes, oh she hopes, that Agamemnon feels the weight of those slender young arms like lead around his neck. Let him suffer ( Read more... )

Following Aramat's demise, Klingsor fell into a bout of depression, hiding himself in his corner of the garden, alternating bouts of drinking himself into a stupor with bouts of beating the walls of his cottage with his head and other acts of self-harm. And when all else fails, he's resorted to ramping up the rapid plant-growth spells in his garden ( Read more... )