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Herman's Palace

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21:32: Tevvie bursts in, all dramatic energy. “I can’t miss any chance you want to summon me! Well, last time I checked, I’m not Peter Pan, which means I have my own shadow too… I can arrange your friendship if you’re still looking for shadow-folks.” He laughs, wraps me in a lovely hug, and peppers my face with happy kisses. 21:33: “Shadow-folks, huh?” I mutter. Yep. I attract mysterious silhouettes… and mildly unhinged men. 21:34: “I can’t say no to having Michael Jackson vinyls,” he adds, grinning. “As a reward for opening rusty doors and sniffing spooky air… we’ll see.” Then he reaches for the closet and grabs a record. “Herman’s Hermits? Pfft… seems like a joke from Kobe.” 21:36: Tevvie is moonwalking across the basement like he owns the place. Dust clouds everywhere. I lean against the doorway, arms crossed, smirk fully activated. Priorities. 21:39: Brush a cobweb off his shoulder. Fingers linger. Perfume + dust = chaos. Whisper: “Haunted or not… moonwalk or not… I like yo...
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Glastonbury Survival Log

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1st Day 12:20 Gotta drop my health or the Dutch Guy™ won’t crawl out of the bushes. He’s out there somewhere, clutching overpriced bandages and psychic nonsense about Amsterdam. Classic move: wait for someone weak, then strike. 12:20 Tevvie’s staring at me like I just declared war on common sense. Fair. 12:25 — Checklist for Summoning Scammy Dutch-Accented People: – Run into the circle during bad weather → damn sunshine, need a rain dance first. – Eat dodgy food → done. (Suspicious sandwich abandoned under a tree. Courageously devoured before ants claimed it.) – Weed puffs → double done. (Amnesia + Northern Lights. Greenpeace would be proud.) – Skip rest & hygiene → achieved. (Party in progress with sheep + one druid who thinks he’s a DJ.) 12:35 Now just waiting for fate. The moment we sneeze, the Dutch Guy™ will sense blood like mock-Astarion and appear, hissing: 👉 “Ah, traveler… you look 'alf-dead, ja? For only tree thousand geld, you take zis sacred survival kit. Ble...
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🏛 BERLIN – The Unknown Gate

🏛 BERLIN – Ashley Mini-D&D Location: Brandenburg Gate (ID=3096972) Skill Required: Flexible—Arcana, History, Insight, or pure Ashley-style creativity Items & Creative Approaches Item Action Roll / DC Success Fail Panties + Bra Throw underwear at the Gate Confidence DC 12 Gate “recognizes” boldness; minor Confidence bonus Dramatic flapping underwear everywhere; minor embarrassment Toilet Paper Scream your secret aloud Inspiration DC 10 Clear head; minor bonus to next action Echo bounces weirdly; pigeons judge Colored Pencils Doodle on wall, statue, or pavement History/Insight DC 12 Reveals subtle clue Chicken scratch doodle; passersby confused Smiles Charm pigeons, tourists, or shadows Charisma DC 12 ...
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Stonehenge Adventure – D&D Style Map

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START 📍 LONDON – Mum HQ ☕ Fuel up on sarcasm, grab a half-squashed sandwich, a water bottle, and check your boots for style. 💡 Bonus: +5 Charisma if you avoid spilling tea on yourself before departure. MAIN QUEST ➡ WATLING STREET (ID: 2893823) 🛣 Suspiciously straight road (possibly Roman… definitely dramatic). 🎲 Travel Roll: Walk or Crawl (3h) ⚠ Encounter: Random sheep. Roll Persuasion (or bribe with sandwich crumbs). 🎯 Destination: STONEHENGE 🪨 Things To Do at Stonehenge 🏛 The Big Rocks 🗿 Marble Monolith → Touch. Rub. Whisper. Pretend you’re in a Netflix documentary. 🎓 Gain: Ancient History  📚 Achievement unlocked: “Suck it, Mr. Whitmore” 🪨 Stone Monoliths (x8) → Not interactable. Rocks remain unimpressed. Outcome: Ignored. 🧘‍♀ Meditate – Skill Check: Insight DC 12 Ancient rocks grant +2 Wisdom for 1 hour. Advantage on saving throws against stress… or fail spectacularly: Hair tangles in tree branches Sheep steal boots Tourists stare in horror ...
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THIS IS YOUR DOING

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Too narrow for breath, too wide to end. Each step multiplies itself, so I am forever behind and forever ahead. The walls lean closer, listening. I’m back in the school hallway. The tiles shine too bright, scrubbed raw. Fluorescent lights buzz above, cold and flickering. The air reeks of disinfectant and cafeteria grease. My feet move on their own, carrying me where I already know I’m going—like I wrote this script and now regret every line. The intercom crackles. “Ashley—principal’s office. Immediately.” I turn the corner. My mother waits outside the office, lips pressed so tightly they’ve vanished. She clutches her purse like a weapon. Her eyes don’t blink. Inside, the math teacher sits pale and trembling. The printouts lie on the desk—the edited photos I made “as a joke.” Him crouched behind a bush, pants down. Fake, but real enough to spread like infection. Real enough to ruin. He had to transfer schools. “I was trying to be funny,” I whisper. “You were trying to control the narra...
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THE RETURN OF THE PENGUIN

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ASHLEY'S SECRET DIARY - LEON AUSTIN

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7 years old. It started with one innocent assignment: “Write a few lines about your dad.”   Ended with me sticking my tongue out at Miss Petunia and drawing a dinosaur instead. I don’t even know where to begin. Maybe with the feeling that stayed behind: a lump lodged somewhere between my throat and my stomach, like I’d swallowed too many thoughts all at once. Tevvie and I had just walked out of the concert, skin still buzzing from the music, when I met him. Leon Austin. That Leon Austin—the one whose posters probably still live in dusty teenage bedrooms, the man who once toured the world under something called The Promiscuous Tour . And… I think he might be my father. Okay. I know I’ve written “I think so-and-so might be my father” before. More than once. But this time, the coincidences stacked up like dominoes holding their breath. He didn’t give me a confession. No dramatic “I’m your dad, kiddo.” Just… the bare minimum. And yet there was something in his presence. A kin...
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