Steampunk fiction, reviews and interviews

Silk and Steel

Hugest apologies for not posting last week! Our internet dies and even now we have had the engineers out it is still being unpredictable – apparently the old phone line is to blame but I suspect it is the dirt cheap internet as well, lol. Ah well, beggars can’t be choosers as they say! XD I hope you all had a wonderful week and that your weekend is filled with fun and festiveness as we head towards the spectacular spooky season! ๐Ÿ˜€ I’ll leave you with Vraxi again as he continues his quest to find some demonsong…

There were two churches in Ryzym.

Vraxi stepped out of the tin bath, cranked up the phonograph, draped a feather boa around his shoulders and shimmied around the room, rolling his shoulders a few times as if he was psyching up for a bizarre fancy-dress boxing match.

The first church was the one everyone new about and most people attended. Still. Even though the gods and goddesses had made it abundantly clear they wanted nothing more to do with the world or anything in it.
He hummed to himself and swayed his hips as he fished studiously through his meagre but utterly fabulous wardrobe and selected his very most beautiful shirt and a pair of stunningly iridescent moth-scale leather trousers.

Then there was the Other Church. The one nobody had ever heard of and absolutely nobody went to at all ever.
And yet some people must surely go – because it was definitely a real thing. A thing which caused neighbours to eye eachother sideways and wonderโ€ฆ
Vraxi did not go to either church.

Ever.

Due to the ‘circumstances of his birth’ he had not even been permitted to set foot in the graveyard to put flowers on the paupers’ mound for his mother.
But he had made a great many ‘deliveries’ to the Other Church on Spyro’s behalf and so he knew exactly how to get there.

The first trick was to find a street preacher. The Other Church didn’t have a building of its own and so it moved around, holding services in a different setting each night โ€“ perhaps a disused warehouse or abandoned town house, perhaps a welcoming tenement building or the cellar of a sympathetic tavern. This had the benefit of making it almost impossible for any one to find out where the next service was going to be. But for those ‘in the know’ it was a very simple matter.

โ€œYou look down, brother,โ€ the street preacher said, after Vraxi had spent a good few minutes loitering around his turf, listening intently to his rabid ramblings about fate, the philosophical musings of dust, the wrath of candles and various omens which indicated the indisputable omnipotence of clocks.

The yag heaved a heavy sigh. โ€œMore morose, really.โ€ he said, emphasising what he knew was today’s password, based on the preacher’s leading remark.

โ€œMorose? Oh dear, dear me, we can’t have that. No no no, we certainly can’t have that at all.โ€ The preacher shook his head and stroked his long, braided beard. He laid a hand on Vraxi’s shoulder. โ€œIf I were you, brother, I would seek solace in the Rusalka’s Arms,โ€ he whispered, leaning in close with a theatrical wink. โ€œI promise you it will sooth your soul.โ€

โ€œMany thanks, wise one.โ€ Vraxi said, placing his hands together and offering a little bow of respect as he he backed away.

The preacher nodded and turned back to his rant and Vraxi spun on his heel and strolled off in the direction of the Rusalka’s Arms.

He knew where it was; off a quaint little cobbled backstreet in The Spires. He had made deliveries to the back door many times but had never been inside and, despite his anxiety about how his first foray into the realm of religious fanaticism might go, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement.

Inside, the place was frantic. Poets, artists, writers and radicals sat alone or in small groups, sketching, scribbling, smoking and bantering belief systems with eachother. It was a curiously pleasant and invigorating atmosphere and Vraxi wondered if if he ought not to just linger a while and enjoy it. He had no idea how things worked from this point on โ€“ would it be obvious where he should go to attend the service, or would he have to ask?

โ€œHoi! You! You in the shirt!โ€

Vraxi looked about him. Lots of people were wearing shirts.

โ€œYou! Hoi! You in the shirt and the boa!โ€

Ah, that was more to go on. Vraxi gave another glance around the bar, he did seem to be the only one sporting such an accessory and he took a second to congratulate himself on outshining even the most pious devotees in the city.

โ€œMe?โ€ he mouthed uncertainly, pointing to himself.

โ€œYes! You. You’re from Pav’shma, am I right?โ€ The young man rose and crossed the room as he spoke, ending his sentence at the bar beside the yag. โ€œI’ve two bonecoin riding on itโ€ he whispered. โ€œBe a sport about it and I’ll split it with you?โ€

Vraxi grinned hugely. โ€œThe trousers are from Pav’shma, if that helps?โ€ he smirked, โ€œSo tell your friends I’m half pav’shmian and neither of us has spun them a yarn?โ€

The young man laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. โ€œCome tell them yourself, join us for the evening, do โ€“ we have a thirst for the exotic and you outdo all our feeble aspirations.โ€ He ordered a round of coffees and shots from the bar. โ€œI’m Mateo โ€“ Matti if you like โ€“ my friends there are Klauda and Vitchiento โ€“ we call him chi-chi because he hates it.โ€

Vraxi laughed, nodded his thanks and gave a hand transporting the drinks to a table at the back of the tap. Of course he really ought to be getting on with his plan but a true gentleman, he told himself, as he settled comfortably into a chair beside his new friends, should never turn down an invitation โ€“ and Vraxanthrin Bane should never be accused of not being a true gentleman.

They talked Pav’shma’s silk road, Ryzymian politics, the rising unpopularity of the duke and the push to legalise roccana as a medicinal substance, then they talked philosophy and art and ancient literary symbolism and Vraxi quite surprised himself with the breadth and fervour of his own opinions on subjects he had barely even contemplated before.

โ€œThey’re preparing the sacrament,โ€ Chi Chi observed, nodding to where rows of pewter tumblers were being lined up along the bar.

Matti turned to Vraxi with a wry smile. โ€œAre you seeking solace for your soul tonight?โ€ he asked.

โ€œOh, I certainly am,โ€ Vraxi grinned; feeling glad at the prospect of spending longer in such pleasant company.

โ€œIs it your first time?โ€ Klauda asked, her voice dripping innuendo like honey from a needle’s tip.

โ€œAt church.โ€ Vraxi smirked back, just to be clear.

Matti laughed, โ€œThen we’d better take care of you, hadn’t we?โ€ he said, taking Vraxi’s hand and leading him back to the bar. โ€œHere,โ€ he handed Vraxi one of the pewter tumblers, passed two to the others and took one for himself. A dark red liquid sat like treacle inside.

โ€œDrink and remember,โ€ he said, giving the yag a reassuring smile.

โ€œDrink and rememberโ€ the others chorused, and they knocked their tumblers together and downed them in unison, Vraxi following suit.

It was sweet and sour and metallic and almost too sticky and stringy to gulp down. Vraxi’s eyes watered as he swallowed repeatedly to free his throat of the last of it. โ€œWhat is it?โ€ he asked hoarsely, shaking his head to clear his vision, but it didn’t clear. Instead the world around him seemed to be melting like candle wax; all colour a veneer that had been washed over a grey, grainy substrateโ€ฆ โ€œWhat..?โ€

โ€œYou’re seeing things the way they really are, brother,โ€ Matti said, laying an oddly insubstantial hand on his shoulder. โ€œYou’ve drunk blood, from the red river, and now your body remembers the flesh it used to be, what this world used to be, and your mind can’t trick it anymoreโ€ฆ see? It’s nothing but dust! All of us, look, we’re just dust!โ€ He laughed and looked into Vraxi’s face and the yag’s eyes widened in disbelief.

โ€œYou’reโ€ฆ you’re made of dustโ€ฆโ€ he whispered, marvelling at the tiny glittering grey grains that now seemed to compose everyone and everything around him. Even his own hands when he looked at them were the same.

โ€œThat’s right, come on, let’s go down to the service.โ€
Matti took his hand again and they went through to the back of the bar, down a flight of stairs and into the cellar.

Into the cellar?

Pah!

They might as well have stepped into another world.

โ€œRemember why you are here, Vraxanthrin.โ€ he told himself sternly as layers of sound and light and motion washed over him in waves of ecstasy. โ€œSomewhere in this place there is demonsong โ€“ lots of it โ€“ and you must not leave without at least four bottles of the stuff or this whole insanity-laden evening will have been for naught.โ€

6 responses

  1. Tracers, checked-effect, dust-beings, yeah, I too had a miss-spent youth.

    Liked by 2 people

    October 23, 2020 at 6:28 pm

    • Penny Blake

      Lol all the best people do Icky ๐Ÿ˜‚

      Liked by 2 people

      October 23, 2020 at 6:57 pm

  2. Ooh…I could scarce imagine a more magnificent return than this sublime image:๐Ÿ˜ป

    ๐™‘๐™ง๐™–๐™ญ๐™ž ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™—๐™–๐™ฉ๐™, ๐™˜๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ช๐™ฅ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ฅ๐™๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™œ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฅ๐™, ๐™™๐™ง๐™–๐™ฅ๐™š๐™™ ๐™– ๐™›๐™š๐™–๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ง ๐™—๐™ค๐™– ๐™–๐™ง๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™จ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™ก๐™™๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™จ๐™๐™ž๐™ข๐™ข๐™ž๐™š๐™™ ๐™–๐™ง๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ง๐™ค๐™ค๐™ข, ๐™ง๐™ค๐™ก๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™จ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™ก๐™™๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™– ๐™›๐™š๐™ฌ ๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ข๐™š๐™จ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ž๐™› ๐™๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฅ๐™จ๐™ฎ๐™˜๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ช๐™ฅ ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™– ๐™—๐™ž๐™ฏ๐™–๐™ง๐™ง๐™š ๐™›๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™ฎ-๐™™๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™จ ๐™—๐™ค๐™ญ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ข๐™–๐™ฉ๐™˜๐™.

    And yet…as luscious as it was, you utterly outdid even yourself with the wealth of wonderment that unfurled before mine eyes. Wow. This chapter is a masterpiece of wordsmithery, my scrumptious. I know not where to begin…or end. I could quote from every paragraph and still think m’self remiss.๐Ÿ˜ฏ

    Your wit is as sparkling as the pictures you paint; every word a gem, as irresistible as they are inimitable.

    ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™ก๐™ค๐™ค๐™  ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™ฃ, ๐™—๐™ง๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ง,โ€ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™š๐™š๐™ฉ ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™˜๐™๐™š๐™ง ๐™จ๐™–๐™ž๐™™, ๐™–๐™›๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง ๐™‘๐™ง๐™–๐™ญ๐™ž ๐™๐™–๐™™ ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™– ๐™œ๐™ค๐™ค๐™™ ๐™›๐™š๐™ฌ ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™š๐™จ ๐™ก๐™ค๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™–๐™ง๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ง๐™›, ๐™ก๐™ž๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ง๐™–๐™—๐™ž๐™™ ๐™ง๐™–๐™ข๐™—๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™จ ๐™–๐™—๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™›๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š, ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ฅ๐™๐™ž๐™ก๐™ค๐™จ๐™ค๐™ฅ๐™๐™ž๐™˜๐™–๐™ก ๐™ข๐™ช๐™จ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™จ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™™๐™ช๐™จ๐™ฉ, ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ก๐™š๐™จ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ซ๐™–๐™ง๐™ž๐™ค๐™ช๐™จ ๐™ค๐™ข๐™š๐™ฃ๐™จ ๐™ฌ๐™๐™ž๐™˜๐™ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ž๐™˜๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ž๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™–๐™—๐™ก๐™š ๐™ค๐™ข๐™ฃ๐™ž๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™ค๐™› ๐™˜๐™ก๐™ค๐™˜๐™ ๐™จ.

    You’ve encapsulated an entire character with one wisp of Vraxian whimsy. Now ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜, is magic.โค๏ธ

    โ€œ๐™ƒ๐™ค๐™ž! ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช! ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™จ๐™๐™ž๐™ง๐™ฉ!โ€ ๐™‘๐™ง๐™–๐™ญ๐™ž ๐™ก๐™ค๐™ค๐™ ๐™š๐™™ ๐™–๐™—๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™๐™ž๐™ข. ๐™‡๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ค๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ง๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™š๐™–๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™จ๐™๐™ž๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™จ. โ€œ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช! ๐™ƒ๐™ค๐™ž! ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™จ๐™๐™ž๐™ง๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™—๐™ค๐™–!โ€

    ๐˜ผ๐™, ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ง๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™œ๐™ค ๐™ค๐™ฃ. ๐™‘๐™ง๐™–๐™ญ๐™ž ๐™œ๐™–๐™ซ๐™š ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ง ๐™œ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™–๐™ง๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™—๐™–๐™ง, ๐™๐™š ๐™™๐™ž๐™™ ๐™จ๐™š๐™š๐™ข ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™—๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™š ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™จ๐™ช๐™˜๐™ ๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™–๐™˜๐™˜๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ค๐™  ๐™– ๐™จ๐™š๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š ๐™๐™ž๐™ข๐™จ๐™š๐™ก๐™› ๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™จ๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ข๐™ค๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™ฅ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ช๐™จ ๐™™๐™š๐™ซ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™š๐™š๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™˜๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ฎ.

    ๐Ÿ˜† How I adore him ๐Ÿฅฐ

    ๐™„๐™ฉ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™จ ๐™จ๐™ฌ๐™š๐™š๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™จ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ข๐™š๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ก๐™ก๐™ž๐™˜ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™–๐™ก๐™ข๐™ค๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ค ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™˜๐™ ๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™œ๐™ช๐™ก๐™ฅ ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™ฃ. ๐™‘๐™ง๐™–๐™ญ๐™žโ€™๐™จ ๐™š๐™ฎ๐™š๐™จ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง๐™š๐™™ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™๐™š ๐™จ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ก๐™ก๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฅ๐™š๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š๐™™๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™›๐™ง๐™š๐™š ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ง๐™ค๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ก๐™–๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ž๐™ฉ. โ€œ๐™’๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฉ?โ€ ๐™๐™š ๐™–๐™จ๐™ ๐™š๐™™ ๐™๐™ค๐™–๐™ง๐™จ๐™š๐™ก๐™ฎ, ๐™จ๐™๐™–๐™ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™˜๐™ก๐™š๐™–๐™ง ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ซ๐™ž๐™จ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ, ๐™—๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ž๐™ฉ ๐™™๐™ž๐™™๐™ฃโ€™๐™ฉ ๐™˜๐™ก๐™š๐™–๐™ง. ๐™„๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™–๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ก๐™™ ๐™–๐™ง๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™๐™ž๐™ข ๐™จ๐™š๐™š๐™ข๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™—๐™š ๐™ข๐™š๐™ก๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ ๐™š ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™๐™ก๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ญ; ๐™–๐™ก๐™ก ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ก๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™– ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™š๐™š๐™ง ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™๐™–๐™™ ๐™—๐™š๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™จ๐™๐™š๐™™ ๐™ค๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง ๐™– ๐™œ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฎ, ๐™œ๐™ง๐™–๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฎ ๐™จ๐™ช๐™—๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฉ๐™šโ€ฆ โ€œ๐™’๐™๐™–๐™ฉ..?โ€

    You’ve conjured a drink so potent I could taste it…๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ its texture in my mouth.๐Ÿ‘ŒThere could be no more perfect aperitif to the revelations we were treated to at the end of the chapter. Brilliant. As are you, my precious one.๐ŸŒน xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    October 30, 2020 at 7:06 am

  3. Lou Pulford

    Tee hee! Oh I’m so so glad you loved Vraxi’s shenanigans – he is so much fun to have in my head and to write for and all the more fun when you find him fun to read about as well… if that makes sense?!? XD I mayyyy be a little away with fairies brainwise! XD ….. and THANKYOU beyond words that you think the street preacher had a character all his own through Vraxi’s eyes as well because I just couldn’t get that paragraph right for ages – I really wanted the street preacher to leap off the page and give an impression of this ‘other church’ but in such a tiny glimpse I really struggled to get that right and must’ve re-written it a ghastly number of times! XD So that has made my day! – as your lovely comments do always anyway my lovely – Tee Hee and many wicked giggles, I’m glad you enjoyed his little ‘huh? me?’ like anyone else in Ryzym dresses as ineffably swish as Vraxi XD XD Ooo the drink, well, I can’t really claim credit for that XD I’m riffing off an actual medicinal drink I had to drink once that was… um…interestingly textured! XD Like clotted cream with grit and pulled pork XD XD XD Thankyou my angel for taking the time to stop by and comment even though wp is still being a git and making me use this other account to comment on your messages for some reason. It did the same to Icky a while back but at least this time I know what is going on – it sends them to spam and then after I click approve it stops me using my admin account to reply to them. XD I need to email them I just need one of those round toowitt things! XD xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    October 30, 2020 at 11:01 am

  4. It does indeed make sense, where’er you’re frolicking with your faeries ๐Ÿฅฐ Aw…you’re so very welcome. You wrote the preacher so perfectly that all your ghastly rewrites were rendered invisible. His characterisation was as fluid as it was flawless.โค๏ธ

    ๐™„โ€™๐™ข ๐™œ๐™ก๐™–๐™™ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™ฎ๐™š๐™™ ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™š โ€˜๐™๐™ช๐™? ๐™ข๐™š?โ€™ ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ ๐™š ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™š ๐™š๐™ก๐™จ๐™š ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™๐™ฎ๐™ฏ๐™ฎ๐™ข ๐™™๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™š๐™จ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™š๐™›๐™›๐™–๐™—๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™จ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™จ๐™ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™‘๐™ง๐™–๐™ญ๐™ž ๐™“๐˜ฟ ๐™“๐˜ฟ

    ๐Ÿ˜นThisss. In a nutshell ๐Ÿ˜น He’s faaabulous, bless him.๐Ÿ˜ป

    Ooh crikey, you can sure as strewth claim credit for drinking the demonic stuff XD๐Ÿค Let alone re-imagining said deed in all its gritty ingloriousness๐Ÿคฎ

    Aw…it was my pleasure, my precious one. ๐ŸŒน I do so hope you’ve sorted it somehow-or-other, afore the dratted thing drives you demented XD xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    November 6, 2020 at 6:03 am

    • Penny Blake

      HURRAY!!!! This one didn’t go to spam and it’s even letting me reply! Woop! Aw thankyou for your huge hearted and generous words my lovely one which always make my day! I truly hope you’re having a spectacularly snugglesome and spookish time your end! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

      Liked by 1 person

      November 6, 2020 at 2:43 pm

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