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https://ronelthemythmaker.wordpress.com/2017/06/08/gancanagh-of-the-night-folklorethursday/

A lesser known fairy from Irish folklore, the Gancanagh is known as the love-talker due to his love of seducing human women. The Gancanagh is related to the Leprechaun. He always appears with a dudeen in his mouth which is a traditional Irish pipe, he casts no shadow and birds will stop singing in his presence. He is well known for his love of idleness and being lazy.

The Gancanagh likes to seduce and make love to shepherdesses and milkmaids. He will whisper into their ears with his enchanting voice and promptly disappear after making love to them, leaving them to pine for him. Few women survive after meeting the Gancanagh as they usually die of despair and a broken heart. It is said that meeting the Gancanagh will bring you bad luck. Any man who has ruined his own fortune through womanizing is believed to have met the Gancanagh.

There are a shocking number of RPs I've been in, where having the Gancanagh show up would make sense.
 
There really should be a word for that feeling you get when you're going on brought your subscribed threads list, and you get that moment of disorient d panic when you see a favorite thread you haven't responded to for months. And then you realize that you haven't responded because it's over.
 
I've done that a couple times with some of ours. XD I've been trying to think of new, relevant plots for Household Of Three.
 
Ah, yes. That moment where you read a post and ask yourself "just for the sake of continuity, has Sam done ass play before"?
 
TheCorsair said:
Ah, yes. That moment where you read a post and ask yourself "just for the sake of continuity, has Sam done ass play before"?

I just wanted to chime in and say no... no I haven't done ass play before...

backs slowly back into the darkness
 
tumblr_inline_n11zg3UVKB1r5xt9e.png


*cough*
 
sailingsam said:
TheCorsair said:
Ah, yes. That moment where you read a post and ask yourself "just for the sake of continuity, has Sam done ass play before"?

I just wanted to chime in and say no... no I haven't done ass play before...

backs slowly back into the darkness
[video=youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvPRrIOa8Nw[/video]
 
So these areactual Victorian party games:

FLIRTATION
One Lady

The lady puts on a gentleman's cap and cloak, has a cane in her hand, and a cigar in her mouth. She comes into the room, and goes round and flirts with any lady or ladies she pleases.

FEEDING THE BABY
One Gentleman - three Ladies

The gentleman is seated in the middle of the room, wrapped up in a sheet; the ladies bring a custard, a cup of tea, and a glass of wine, and feed him alternately with a teaspoon, saying, as they do so, "Sweet baby!"

MISAPPLIED TALENT
General

The ladies all rise and stand behind their chairs; the gentlemen coming up to each chair compliments it on its wood, covering, and antiquity, finishing by a profound bow, and placing his lips on the top of it. The lady it belongs to must say, without even smiling, "Valuable talents greatly misapplied."

THE TIDY PARLOUR MAIDS
Two Ladies

First Lady: Shall we dust the drawing-room ornaments, Belinda?

Second Lady: Yes, Lucinda.
(They go round, and, with a feather brush, dust all the gentlemen in the room.)
 
This... What even?????? (Of course, sober Mim may understand better but still... What the fuck over???)

On the other hand... Jenny is definitely intrigued. Anne Marie finds it trite and...precious. (In the Southern sense, which is very not good.)

EDIT: Sober Mim doesn't understand this either. This seems like poorly-disguised sexual repression of the highest order. Or the precursor to a Dorian Grey-like orgy. >.>
 
These seem like the sort of thing that, on the surface, are rather innocent, but have an extreme kinky subtext.
 
A little fiction, inspired by Star Wars: Rebels.

Tatooine
1 BBY

He watched the approaching figure through his spy cams, features hardening as he saw each one wink out in turn. But that, and the way it avoided the traps, and the double-bladed light saber at it's waist, was enough. Another of the Inquisitors had traced Rebel agent Shadow to his dusty lair on Tatooine.

He selected his ambush point carefully, waiting in a blind curve of the canyon. Tripwires were set, ready to bring a half-ton of rock crashing down at the flick of a wrist. One of the Inquisitors could deal with that easily enough, which is why he also had his heavy assault blaster primed and ready. The last one hadn't been good enough to deal with a hailstorm of blaster fire and an avalanche, and he doubted this one would be either.

The Sith didn't train their hunters that well.

He pursed his lips, and waited. Soon enough, the cloaked shape came into view. He waited patiently until it was in the killing zone, then triggered the charges and opened fire. The canyon lit with blood-red discharges, and the grinding roar of rock drowned out the report of the gun.

The cloaked figure threw up a hand, batting aside the collapsing stone. The other hand drew and ignited the crimson blades of the saber, spinning and whirling as it deflected every shot. Quentin swore without heat, staring wide-eyed at the display even as he kept firing. On his best day, he might have been able to do the same. Maybe.

And then invisible arms tore the blaster from his fingers and dragged him through the air. He bounced along the stone walls, then slammed down into the rocky floor before the cloaked figure. Quentin fumbled for his lightsaber, only to watch it tear from his grip and land in the figure's outstretched hand. "The weapon of a Jedi, despite it's appearance," the figure mused, igniting the white blade. "But you are no Jedi."

"The Jedi are all dead," Quentin retorted. "Haven't you heard?"

"That is the rumor, yes," the figure replied, removing it's hood. Quentin stared at the crimson and black tattooed face of the Zabrak, recognizing him from a briefing he'd seen more than two decades earlier. "But the same was said about us, once."

"Darth Maul," Quentin whispered.

"Ah, you know my name." Maul gestured, jerking Quentin into the air with the Force. "And you, who are...". His voice trailed away for a moment. "Quentin Hall, a Jedi of the Order of Shadows." Maul considered him. "What had happened to you, I wonder?"

"What do you want?" Terror surged through his gut like water, but he controlled it. Doily might have stripped him of his connection to the Force, but the mental discipline remained.

"Revenge," Maul replied. "Revenge against my one-time Master."

"Dooku is dead," Quentin replied, looking for a way out. "Anakin Skywalker killed him at..."

"Count Dooku!" Maul's laughter was sharp and bright as a blade. "He was my replacement, Shadow! My Master trained him after he cast me aside on Naboo. As he cast Dooku aside for Vader!"

"Then what..?" Quentin began.

Maul stepped close, the movement slightly jerky. "The Force led me here," he said. "A vision obtained from a united Sith and Jedi holocron, showed me that my revenge was here. A vision of a pale, flickering shadow who would destroy the Emperor."

With a contemptuous flick of his hand, Maul let Quentin collapse to the ground. "A shadow vahdar, to destroy the vahdar of Darth Sideous. But instead, all I find is a crippled wreck." Rage flickered in the yellow-orange eyes of the Sith Lord. "He lied to me. Somehow, my apprentice lied."

Quentin stared up at him, then shuffled into a sitting position. Drawing a deep breath, he centered himself and waited. Would it be quick? Decapitation, perhaps? Or would Maul torture him, first?

Instead, Maul dropped his saber at his feet. "No, Shadow. I will not kill you." Fangs glinted as he smiled unpleasantly. "What could I do to you that is worse than leaving you to live like this." Contemptuously, he turned on his heel and stalked away.
 
Sorry about the posting slowdown, everyone. RL got a little busy, but I'll try to get some responses up in the next day or do.

Also, looking at that last post? I kind be of want to write a Star Wars AAU where Maul and Quentin work together to hunt down Palpatine, sort of a violent buddy cop flick - The Killer with lightsabers and Force powers and the like. Maybe end it like The Killer meets Hamlet, too. Maul and Quentin and a duffel bag full of blasters kill an endless horde of Imperial Guards and have a dramatic and emotional final battle with Vader and the Emperor that ends with Mara entering the throne room to find everyone dead but Maul. And Maul lives just long enough to recognize her as the Shadow Vahdar of his vision, tell her of her real father, and die.

Bonus scene: Maul and Quentin drinking and arguing philosophy while sitting in the burning wreckage of an Imperial garrison somewhere.
 
Clearly the three or four replies I am getting a week are completely unacceptable.

That AAU does sound interesting, especially considering who is really beneath Vader's Mask.
 
I just read a serious article about women mastrubating inside an MRI machine as part of a study on the neuroscience of orgasm.

How have I not seen that very idea around here as a plot seed?
 
Woman: Oh doctor I am having trouble here. Can I get a hand. ;)
Doctor: You know this is why Joseph Mortimer Granville invented the vibrator in the first place, right?
 
Similar mechanisms of traumatic rectal injuries in patients who had anal sex with animals to those who were butt-fisted by human sexual partner.

This, folks, is a genuine scientific study. The abstract:

Sexual pleasure comes in various forms of physical play, for many it involves stimulation of the vagina, while the anus for others; some enjoy both. A recent report by Cappelletti et al.(1) shows a meta-analysis of cases describing anal trauma due to sexual fisting in human partners. This clinical article reports four cases of males diagnosed with zoophilia, and who received anal sex from animals, resulting in injuries. Surgical and psychiatric evaluations are summarized. Unusual etiology of sexual activity with animals caused peri-anal trauma in men who engaged in anal sex with dogs and farm animals. Injuries to patients who receive anal sex from animals are mechanistically similar to fisting-induced rectal damage. Among zoophiles, the mode of harm occurs through blood-engorged, interlocked penis that causes tissue lacerations upon retraction from an anus. In people experimenting with fisting, repetitive stretching within anal canal and of external sphincter causes the internal injuries. The mode of physical stimulation explains the extent of injuries in fisters vs. zoophiles: in fisting, the pressure applied by hand is controllable proximally around and within anal sphincter, while penetration by the animal penis is unpredictable and occurs within the proximal anal canal. Forensically, the findings presented in this article describe a significant mechanism of injury in fisters versus passive zoophiles. These descriptions may aid in clinically differentiating pleasurable and pathological rectal stimulation.

Copyright © 2017 Elsevier Ltd and Faculty of Forensic and Legal Medicine. All rights reserved

While there, check out "similar articles".
 
Sorry about dropping off the face of the earth and not posting anything. I managed to combine an allergy flare-up with an upper respiratory infection, and I'm feeling like death right now.
 
TheCorsair said:
Sorry about dropping off the face of the earth and not posting anything. I managed to combine an allergy flare-up with an upper respiratory infection, and I'm feeling like death right now.

I'm sorry you're not feeling well D:

Take some medicine and get lots and lots of sleep! Hope to have you back on your feet soon.. ^_^
 
I guess you can have a few days off to recover. :p

Seriously though, take it easy. I need to work on one of the dozens of things on my to-do list anyways.
 
Today I learned from one of the folklorists I follow on Twitter (@DrSamGeorge1) that...
ooh in gypsy lore pumpkins turn into vampires and drip blood if left out in the full moon (Vukanovic, Serbia 1933) @FolkloreThurs #harvest

Given that gypsies play a role in the “Only Rules” stories, I think this is useful to know.

Also, in Pennsylvania folklore, witches can only harm you after dark if you’re alone. Oh, and they can’t cross tar. Why? Who knows?
 
That feeling when you're all like "I should hit my threads in order" but a little voice says "I wanna write a scene for this thread" and you listen to it. Does it have a name?
 
I call that voice my muse, and I don't know about yours, but mine is a cunt.

Me: I had a dozen things I need to work on. Chapter 18, that commission piece I agreed to, that short story I want to submit for the competition that is due next week, any of my many rps that I have neglected in favor of writing my novel that I haven't even touched in a couple weeks.

Muse: Okay, but hear me out. What if, instead of doing any of that stuff, you wrote a dream sequence dub con smut scene between Mercedes and the Raven, which plays on lines from the poem?

Me: Wha? Would that even fit in the rp?

Muse: IDK, and IDC. It would be weird and hot and really interesting to write.

Me: True...

Muse: And I am going to rattle it around in your brain until you write it.

So yeah, don't be surprised if that ends up in the rp at some point. :D
 
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