Panel 1: Left to Right: Szelek, Ferris, and Midnas in a latex/leather/and chain getup re-enacting the Cellblock Tango from Chicago. There's a word above each, in order: Folded Pages. Toothpick. Slap. Panel 2: Szelek is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads: There was a human male who came by one night who seemed enamored with me. He kept staring and asking inane questions about rumors he had heard about Szamutians. “What's with the grey skin? Did we really send our children into the wilds from birth? What did you do to piss off the gods and get sent there?” Waste of my time. I offered to find him one of my kind actually paid to deal with his annoying questions and left to find Jolan. I returned to find him sat at my table, reading my book and folding the corners of pages as he went. I didn't hesitate. The spell was on my lips and disintegrating his form before his eyes could widen in surprise. Fortunately I managed to catch my book before it hit the floor to spare it further distress. Panel 3: Ferris is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads: I picked up this big lug at a tavern in some backwater, dumb as a rock but built where it mattered. He had been sucking on his teeth on and off all evening, like something was stuck and just not coming loose. I didn't mind, these things happen. We went up to the room and I started in on him, giving him the gold star treatment, but he was just sitting there picking his teeth with his broken ass nails. Finally I stopped and I told him, “fix your teeth and focus or find another date.” He apologized and looked suitably sorry, but then he picked up my dagger, THE dagger from the table and stuck it in his mouth like a toothpick. I couldn't tell you who moved first, me or my passenger, but a moment later the guy wasn't worried about the gunk in his teeth anymore. He was too concerned with the dagger sticking out of his head. Panel 4: Midnas is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads: There was this half elf regular, the bastard son of some city official, who liked to treat the Eventide as his own personal den of iniquity. He tipped well but there were whispers about ignored safewords and employees that wouldn't take him as a client any longer. It was time I had a word. Being my magnanimous and understanding self, I approached him with a complimentary bottle of wine to address my concerns. He stopped me mid-sentence with a wave of his hand, told me I was not his type and slapped me on the ass. Naturally, I took it in stride. I gave him a brief peck on the lips, a sharp knife, and then told him to decorate the washroom with his insides.Panel 1: Left to Right: Szelek, Ferris, and Midnas in a latex/leather/and chain getup re-enacting the Cellblock Tango from Chicago. There's a word above each, in order: Folded Pages. Toothpick. Slap. Panel 2: Szelek is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads: There was a human male who came by one night who seemed enamored with me. He kept staring and asking inane questions about rumors he had heard about Szamutians. “What's with the grey skin? Did we really send our children into the wilds from birth? What did you do to piss off the gods and get sent there?” Waste of my time. I offered to find him one of my kind actually paid to deal with his annoying questions and left to find Jolan. I returned to find him sat at my table, reading my book and folding the corners of pages as he went. I didn't hesitate. The spell was on my lips and disintegrating his form before his eyes could widen in surprise. Fortunately I managed to catch my book before it hit the floor to spare it further distress. Panel 3: Ferris is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads: I picked up this big lug at a tavern in some backwater, dumb as a rock but built where it mattered. He had been sucking on his teeth on and off all evening, like something was stuck and just not coming loose. I didn't mind, these things happen. We went up to the room and I started in on him, giving him the gold star treatment, but he was just sitting there picking his teeth with his broken ass nails. Finally I stopped and I told him, “fix your teeth and focus or find another date.” He apologized and looked suitably sorry, but then he picked up my dagger, THE dagger from the table and stuck it in his mouth like a toothpick. I couldn't tell you who moved first, me or my passenger, but a moment later the guy wasn't worried about the gunk in his teeth anymore. He was too concerned with the dagger sticking out of his head. Panel 4: Midnas is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads: There was this half elf regular, the bastard son of some city official, who liked to treat the Eventide as his own personal den of iniquity. He tipped well but there were whispers about ignored safewords and employees that wouldn't take him as a client any longer. It was time I had a word. Being my magnanimous and understanding self, I approached him with a complimentary bottle of wine to address my concerns. He stopped me mid-sentence with a wave of his hand, told me I was not his type and slapped me on the ass. Naturally, I took it in stride. I gave him a brief peck on the lips, a sharp knife, and then told him to decorate the washroom with his insides.

Transcript

Panel 1: Left to Right: Szelek, Ferris, and Midnas in a latex/leather/and chain getup re-enacting the Cellblock Tango from Chicago. There's a word above each, in order: Folded Pages. Toothpick. Slap.

Panel 2: Szelek is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads:

There was a human male who came by one night who seemed enamored with me. He kept staring and asking inane questions about rumors he had heard about Szamutians. “What's with the grey skin? Did we really send our children into the wilds from birth? What did you do to piss off the gods and get sent there?” Waste of my time.

I offered to find him one of my kind actually paid to deal with his annoying questions and left to find Jolan. I returned to find him sat at my table, reading my book and folding the corners of pages as he went. I didn't hesitate. The spell was on my lips and disintegrating his form before his eyes could widen in surprise. Fortunately I managed to catch my book before it hit the floor to spare it further distress.

Panel 3: Ferris is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads:

I picked up this big lug at a tavern in some backwater, dumb as a rock but built where it mattered. He had been sucking on his teeth on and off all evening, like something was stuck and just not coming loose. I didn't mind, these things happen.

We went up to the room and I started in on him, giving him the gold star treatment, but he was just sitting there picking his teeth with his broken ass nails. Finally I stopped and I told him, “fix your teeth and focus or find another date.” He apologized and looked suitably sorry, but then he picked up my dagger, THE dagger from the table and stuck it in his mouth like a toothpick.

I couldn't tell you who moved first, me or my passenger, but a moment later the guy wasn't worried about the gunk in his teeth anymore. He was too concerned with the dagger sticking out of his head.

Panel 4: Midnas is highlighted, while the others are dimmed. His story reads:

There was this half elf regular, the bastard son of some city official, who liked to treat the Eventide as his own personal den of iniquity. He tipped well but there were whispers about ignored safewords and employees that wouldn't take him as a client any longer. It was time I had a word.

Being my magnanimous and understanding self, I approached him with a complimentary bottle of wine to address my concerns. He stopped me mid-sentence with a wave of his hand, told me I was not his type and slapped me on the ass.

Naturally, I took it in stride. I gave him a brief peck on the lips, a sharp knife, and then told him to decorate the washroom with his insides.
Published On: September 16, 2026

FP2P Musical AU Filler

This Musical AU intermission brought to you with inspiration from Cranebones, creator of Grand Sol on Tapas and Comic Fury. Check out his awesome comic! We were also chatting about it, and the consensus is that Hamlin was in the third cell cuz he wanted to be part of the group; he's the "I'm innocent" one. BUT he heard all the stories and got squeamish once he realized none of the other guys were joking. He's with the warden now doing whatever is necessary to GTFO.

And of course, this scene is a riff on the Cell Block Tango from the musical Chicago, which is absolutely fantastic. I absolutely recommend watching if you haven't seen it already.

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