Session 54 – The Summer Court

Avon: Mummy Issues ?

Previ0usly on Milf$:

The gang travelled with Adara into the Temple Adjacent to Autumn, There the group bid fare well to the 3 Satyrs and Felice, travelling towards the Corridor of Autumn. The description of the functioning of the portal likened it to a worm hole. Adara provided the group Onion with new leafy wings, a bag of seeds to control a giant hummingbird and a flute to control a dragon fly.

When they entered the portal, there was a straight line with very large autumn spruce trees lining the way with Rabbits frolicking in the in between. Adara led the way and the group heard wind rustle before seeing two sphinxes block their way, who Adara called “The Autumn and Spring Bastards”. The sphinx’s denied entranced to the group. Adara said before seeing the group she had only recently defeated them, and that time although moving strangely in the fey wild, moves even stranger in the Corridor of Autumn. As Gar got banished to a wintery wonderland, the group fought the bastards and came out victorious, although many suffered the effects of only knowing a specific language.

Upon their defeat, the corridor began to die with Adara hastening Bruce and Ko’viel to get to the other end.

When Ko’viel and Bruce dashed through, they met an owl bear reading a book who was very curios and identified themselves as “The One Inbetween”. The Owlbear guided the gang out of the temple as Adara became increasingly worried, stating they weren’t welcomed here. Avon mentioned they would put in a good word for her Titania. Adara’s fears came to fruition as outside of the temple the group met a squad of Warrior like people named “The Green Knights” who whipped out an ethereal chain and launched it at Adara, blinking her out of existence. The Green Knight chief brought forward a glass swirling with water which took the shape of someone named The Green Prince, who instructed the group to follow the knights.

The group obeyed as the owlbear blended into an emerging fey crowd of pixies, satyrs and all other wonderful fey creatures in the summer forest surrounding and observing. As they walked along, the fey creatures affectionately gave them names which they heard. The group were referred to as “The Summer Orphans”, Avon was principally called “The Summer Orphan” and the group were provided the names of:

  • Gar = “The Sun Bear”
  • Bruce  = “The Fist of Sunshine”
  • Drukkor = “The Daylight Shroud”
  • Ko’viel = “The Glistening Wrath”
  • Breadgar = “The Song of Dawn”

The group came towards  a gargantuan white tree on the top of a hill blinded by sunshine through the leaves. The tree twisted around, revealing itself to be Princess Titania speaking to the party, offering an apple that cleansed their ability to speak only one language. When Titania was queried about Adara, she said that she needed to be contained as she had defied the summer court. The group did not pursue this line of questioning and Avon seemed complacent she had been taken away.

Titania provided Avon with a bag to ensure that “Summer lasts forever” with seeds for Avon to provide to their little birds and children. Titania revealed that Mab (The queen of air and darkness) did not understand her plans, and that Titania was preparing for something even greater to come. She revealed there were Far Beings from the Blind Eternities that the summer court was garrisoning against, that could not only destroy the fey wild but all realms. Titania revealed that one member (Gar) had already seen this creature (when they touched the Hedron in the sleepless Jungle).

Titania told the group the way home was beyond the Summer Straight Chasm to an island/mountain where they could teleport through (reliably). Titania told them that Avant would provide directions. Avant was the Forest Gnome Child from Skimberii (see skimberi sessions) that was taken into the Fey Wild which the group inadvertently helped.

Coming outside behind a tree was Tommen, a child taken early on from Boullini from the early sessions who had been transformed into an almost half-elf person (which looks cosmetically changed), now a teenager with glittering armour. Tommen seemed cationic in their answers in servitude.

The group now head off towards Avant who will provide a guide through the summer straight chasm to an island where to get back to the material plane.

Session 51 – The Winter Court

The Gang does the Nutbush

Previously on Milf$

After beating members of the radical magical group The New Frontier, the gang fled the wrath of Jaunt into the warm embrace of spectral glowing figure. The group awoke in a sunny field of blue and purple flowers, soon figuring out it was a stage-background. Killian of the Stage, a winter eladrin welcomed the group to the winter court of the Feywild, taking the group through the wintery fey towards a central location.

Killian took to the group to a large icy and dark castle, adorned by a runway of Hags standing like statues. When they arrived inside, they met a large figure with a long glowing blue and purple dress adorned by a black diamond, who Killian introduced as the Queen of Air and Darkness. The group was introduced as “Avon” and the rest. The queen announced that they would be tired and would need to rest, and would work for the queen now as there was nothing left In Boullini.  Behind the queen of air and darkness, to an open broken space behind them entered a large bear, named The one In the fjord. This turned-on Gar.

The hags outside turned into a group of Pegasus and took the group near their home. During the flight in a fairy-carriage, which Killian was awkwardly squished between, they heard a loud shriek with series of bright silver emitting from a central tower. The group figured this matched a spire in central Boullini. At the base of this spire was a platoon of Frost Giants.

The group became affected by some quirks. Breadgar can’t comprehend the number 11. Avon needs to collect stones before they go to sleep. Drukkor and Ko’viel can’t make eye contact with people. Gar has the insane urge to drink holy water. Bruce feels like they are able to speak with plants.

The group were taken to a location called “United foot work lodge” which would be similar to Sunder Arms Lodge (or Milf Money Mansion). Inside the building, it was simply a long corridor that exceeded the outside dimensions of the lodge on the outside, with three staircases going up and three going down. There was a long table inside the place. On the roof of the lodge was a flower arrangement, that detailed and was a flower artistic representation of mil money’s story to date.

The gang went upstairs and found that there was a single room for all of them to sleep in. Before they could actually sleep and long rest, a party started downstairs. At the head of the table, a Winter eladrin who was rag dolling was being controlled by the queen of air and darkness as a virtual mouthpiece. The elf-fey stabbed their hands into the icicle of their chairs as they announced the party began. The group ended up mingling. Gar attempted to approach the one in the fjord who was now a normal sized bear standing next to the mouthpiece. Avon attempted to help. Ko’viel drank their sorrows and approached by a winter eladrin named Richer Ree. Richer Ree then focused their attention at insulting the dragon borns, Breadgar and Drukkor. The argument escalated where attacks were thrown, but the queen of air and darkness held Richer Ree in the air and asked what punishment. The queen of air and darkness complied with their punishments, turning them into a dragonborn.

The party resumed thereafter, and the gang did the nut bush. Eventually, Ko’viel and Breadgar got tired and went upstairs. In their room, the window was open, and they heard a hoot. The one in the weald, the giant owl they came across in the sleepless jungle and who has encountered the group was there, offering milf money a way to leave. Eventually Gar came upstairs and went to find others. Breadgar pointed at Avon, who was outside collecting rocks. The one in the fjord was waiting in the darkness of the treeline. Drukkor was still mingling and Avon came in pulling him inside, causing a disturbance which caused all the fey wild party-goers to draw their attention to him.

The group came up stairs as the one in the weald created portal within their wings for the group to escape. Outside, the one in the fjord grew large and gargantuan shadowing the window. Killian lead the fey wild court up the stairs as a large group. Killian and the group turned shot out a volley of arrows as Avon and the rest fled through their portal, to an unknown place outside the icy walls into an ethereal snowy forest wonderland.

DnD – Session 50 – The New Frontier

Session 50 – The New Frontier

The gang gets hit by a meteor

Previously on MILF$

“I’d want a meteor to take me out too if I was called Shurikan” – Avon

Session 50 was spread over 3, 3- 4 hour sessions.

The gang had been invited to the Amerea Magic University by Prospera on the bequest of the Head Master, Prospera. Upon arrival, dodging the receptionist, Avon traversed the tower whispering in her ear, panicking the Powerful Wizard. When Avon revealed that there was meant to be a meeting, Prospera denied sending an invitation, citing that she was told under strict orders not to engage Milf Money.

When that was revealed, blue flames, signature branding of the new frontier, lit up around the walls of the district and throughout. Upon that mark signalled the new frontier, Prospera cast a spell of immense power, shaking the earth. A dome sprung around the district, blocking off incoming New Frontier Members and trapping everyone within the district. Prospera advised of a vault she was going to, but Avon heard a voice that urged the group to go towards the group to the Garden of Eternity that Brandle (one of the four options to assist in the battle against Balore, Head Libarian of the Library of Amera and former Head libarian at the Great Library of Vellin) and himself had visited.

The group choose Avon’s directions. They were caught out on the way by a bulette riding group of mages, along with New Frontier mages that had faced at the Hellenic compound. In the sky, they could see large blue flames wrap around the dome, with the leader of the Neh Wes Lionares, Jaunt the Havoc attempting to break through the dome. After a battle, Milf Money came out victorious and was traversed through a back way through residential and mercantile buildings of the district, assisting a woman along the way. When the group came to a place closer, they saw Brandle with his side burnt and singed.

Coming next to him was a member of the Cimbric who was a victim of the brainwashing by The New Frontier, Shurikan, Drukkor’s rival. Soon after hovered down a weakened Rigor Merios, the litch defeated only a few sessions ago, proclaiming himself as “the mouth piece of the Havoc”. A bolt of lightning struck the ground and appearing was Ko’viel’s former close friend, Thormar, vexed about their time spent in the magical prison for those affiliated with the new frontier. Stepping behind them, reluctantly, was the former orc Leader of the Hellenics, Agri Eon, who apologised to Milf Money, under a similar effect that Gerald (former servant of milf money) was under. Popping out of thin air with a trail of black and blue flowers, Callen, the Fey Hunter a part of the Sylvan Combine and who previously hunted Avon, appeared claiming that Avon was his to take out.

Brandle made eye contact with Avon and other members of Milf money before striking his staff down on the ground, sending out a pulsive wave of energy, flipping Rigor into the sky, and disturbing the other members, giving a chance for Milf Money to run. But they ran towards the garden, and Agri Eon did not take advantage of their escape. Throughout the chase, Agri Eon attempted to pull his punches while the other adversaries attempted to damage the group. Eventually they got the Garden, Agri Eon summoned a wall of stone and was knocked out by Thormar.

The group then had the opportunity to recuperate for a second, trying to figure out where to go, finding a black diamond. But soon, Thormar broke down a wall, staring the last fight between them. Agri Eon was on the floor, smoke coming from his back.

After a long battle, Jaunt, the Havoc, broke through the dome at the top sending arcane shards down that evaporated and turned to dust as they fell down. Jaunt came closer and closer, before hurdling a meteor down at the group, breaking the foliage and bush to reveal a woman in a glowing white aura. Soon, each member of Milf Money accepted the embrace of the white glow. Drukkor was sent, with a shroud of darkness being left behind. Breadgar was taken, with the ground being burnt with the mark of Illiam the windmill. Gar was taken with a bunch of fur being left behind, Bruce with some of their avatar magic. Ko’viel and Avon seemed unaffected.

They all fell to a deep sleep, awakening on a field of blue and purple flowers, with one stone tablet in front of them, that had the name “Avon” inscribed on it. It seemed to be a bright day. They could see people move in the distance and as they investigated the distance, they figured out the background was just a wall that did not extend. As they explored the outer edges of this wall, a door opened within it. Stepping out was a tall wintery Elf, a winter eladrin that introduced themselves as Killian of the Stage. The roof opened up, revealing a cold sky above, revealing a ivory spire in the distance. Killian revealed the queen of air and darkness was waiting for them.

Self-care for writers during Lockdown

The current coronavirus/COVID19 situation has impacted many different parts of people’s lives. It is important that we take care of ourselves and those who are important to us during this time. Currently, this is a global issue and you are not alone in your worries. I want to impart some tips that we can use to stay healthy and connected during this time. This information is echoed in other places, but I wanted to tailor some tips for the literary curios and writers.

You do not need to write your magnum opus during the period of lockdown. I feel this is the most important tip. Many people will say during lockdowns you will have the opportunity to write endlessly and the time to edit until your heart’s content. Often, they will cite William Shakespeare or other writers who created some magnificent works during isolation periods. You do not have to write or complete that novel during this time. It is okay to do a little bit, the same as you were before, or even nothing at all.

Set a schedule and loosely stick to it. Continuing your writing practice will look differently during this time. You may have done it after work, after school or while you were on the train. It is important to accept this difference and allocate time to keep your routine going. Plan out when you will write by starting a calendar and allocating time to the day. Be realistic with it. Try to plan in times that most emulate your writing practice from before. Be flexible with it and let yourself enjoy the practice of writing rather than doing it because you have the mantra of ‘writing everyday.’ To invoke Marie Kondo, if it is not bringing you joy, get rid of it (for that day at least). Alternatively, if writing is difficult for you due to current issues, it is okay to put it to the side and come back to it another time. If you do plan on coming back to it, it is helpful to keep a log or thought journal.

Stay engaged with your leisure activities. If you are reading this, you have accomplished one core leisure activity of a writer’s arsenal which is reading! Make sure you are staying in touch with activities that you do for fun. While writing is fun, sometimes it can also induce stress when we cannot figure out where to go next or finding the right words. Remember to retain writing as a leisure outlet during this time, and frequently attend to hobbies you love to do.

Stay connected with your social circles. While we are physically separate, we are still socially connected through the internet. Check up with friends and family, even share work that you are writing on for feedback. It may provide a nice distraction during this time or provide a shared experience for you both to relate to. Make sure to still connect fellow writers and other readers you relate to on your social medias. Many social groups are moving online and staying connected with your networks is a good way to find places for support.

This will be a stressful time, but it is important we manage the pressures of lockdown through self-care. Throughout my social work degree and training, a big emphasis has been on how we take care of ourselves. If you would like to chat about self-care during this time, @ me on twitter at SeductiveTaco.

This article was originally written for Envie Magazine:

Short Story This Friday – ‘The Wall’

A short story originally written in response to Trumps potential presidency. It will be released this Friday and can be read for free at

Here is an short excerpt:

Outside the wall, the press lined up tenaciously, all with smiles and pens that had run out of ink. Children licked their Mexican flavoured ice creams as they sat atop their parent’s shoulder’s. Those same parents looked happily ahead.

From Christos Floratos “The Wall”

Follow here to stay up to date!

A Tissue

By Christos Floratos

A ring-a-fear around the world,

A tissue… a tissue.

No – no more than a pocket full of tissues.

This roll of paper has mummified the world.

Graves aren’t too much of an issue after we’ve curled.

Those black screens show blue, white and black masks.

The Asians, the Asian.

The Italians, the Italian.

From the sky they fall like China Dolls.

From the sky they fall like Golden Crucifixes.

And each piece of broken ceramic and metal can’t resist but to

              enter and violate your nose, throat and your lungs.

We all fall down.

Reach for the tissue – if you have wrestled for one.

Have you fought yet for the toilet king crown?

Only those most fashionably early would have won.

And as they say, beggars can’t be choosers.

Those poor people, once again, are the losers.

A broken hip? A carer who drives you once a week?

Almighty, He would say,

“Give it a go, for you have a go! You are not weak.”

And after the Ashes, and after the ashes.

When tied around our necks are sashes

Where violence would leave unhealable gashes

 Who’d be responsible caring for the sick masses?

Why, surely it would not be I?

For all I would need is a tissue, my guy.

My coughs are incognito as a sigh.

So, who is responsible for the elderly and compromised?

None of us, no doubt.

Consider who are your posies.

What flower shall you use to ward off

              The bland smell of phlegm from your nose.

A water droplet can pass through the tissue.

And one dirty tissue; that is all it takes now,

              To swim through the vastness of people, current, like a riptide.

For your young legs work and you coerce yourself a bow.

              Those unlike you will have a doctor with a gavel by their side.

Year Reflections – Poetry

This year has provided an exciting opportunity to be able to share my writing at a official and published capacity. This is the first of my year reflections post, specifically focusing on me thinking about my poetry this year!

Autumn, That Bastard

‘Autumn, That Bastard’ is my first poetry collection that I have publicly shared. This has been a great opportunity to show and have my poetry be read by anyone at anytime. Not all my poetry will be posted like this, but I wanted something that could be read without having to pay because, like my last poem ‘Stagnation’ hints, ‘fuck capitalism.’

Some  notes about the poems:

  • Authenticity – this poem felt like a great introduction to how I feel about stepping into the world of pseudo-published writing. The structure is also different enough from typical poems to generate initial curiosity into the collection.
  • Leviticus – I keep going back to this poem as one of my favourite poems out of this collection. The last line “No questions? No Question.” is something so powerful that I am so happy I produced. 
  • When Winter is expected – Lily’s death is something that I oddly still think about, even though she was a dog. That sentiment of ‘she is more than just a dog’ resonates throughout the poem, as she was an unforgettable part of my life and the least I could do was immortalise her in this poem.
  • Grey House – This poem originally started as a simple song I tried to write in my early learnings of the Saxophone when I was very young. The points of high I capture in the poem (moving to a new apartment) and the points of low (realising it was for the worst) came from me testing the combination of high and low notes.
  • The Apocalypse Cometh – This poem was written way before I even knew who Greta Thunberg was but now that I am aware of so much more regarding climate politics, to the point I think about the state of our world ecologically every day, this poem only strengthens the warnings that our planet is vulnerable.

Check out all the poems here!


Bubbles was a great collection to help support an organisation I very much appreciated. It was interesting centralising six poems over theme that I did not set. This collection, unlike ‘Autumn, That Bastard’, is exclusively available for those who contributed to my fundraising efforts this year as an incentive and thank you in supporting my efforts.

I felt creating a publication for it was very rewarding but also was a big time commitment I did not expect. Dabbling my foot into this design area has given be a better understanding of what I should be doing in future self-publishing endeavours if I choose that route. If I do not end up doing this, it will at least provide a lot of appreciation of how much it must take for an indie author!

Other Poetry Dabbles:

While not posted, I did work on some other poetry not a part of these two collections. These usually were inspired by some worldly event. It let me reflect on how and when I actually start to write poetry – what my drive is and where I am most likely to come up with poetic prose. Not much of this was at home, in fact, a lot of poetry sprung to me when I was on the go or doing something. I found my poetry routine, of sorts, and doing poetry outside these collections reinforced that this art is something I can work on but also isn’t something to be forced.

However, this is a different with my fiction writing where I take a more structured approach, which was very evident in how I prepared for the Write It Fellowship. More about this on my next blog post, reflecting on my other writing endeavours!

Bubbles Update Blog (And Happy Holidays from Christoast!)

Tis the season… to get an update on a poetry collection!

Originally scheduled to release this weekend, ‘Stagnation’ the concluding poem of the ‘Autumn, That Bastard’ Poetry Collection and my commitment to writing an article for Envie took some time cleaning up the publication! However, it is almost complete and will be released on the 27th of December for everyone who donated to the ‘Pen to Paper’ Challenge and for everyone who donated to Extra Life 24 Hour Fundraiser !

If you are interested in obtaining a copy, you can find out more information about Bubbles here!

tl;dr, the collection will only be available during fundraiser events where I am raising money for an NGO-Orginisation or for purposes of social movements. If 2019 is any track record, this will be possibly twice a year! Keep up to date with my publications and events on my social medias here:

It has been an amazing year and I have loved keeping this blog up and running! Thank you to everyone and have a some happy holidays! I hope you enjoy celebrating this time with people that mean a lot to you!

Near future:

  • Two more blog posts by the end of the year. The first will be to talk about Bubbles when it is released and the second one will be a reflection on the year in terms of writing (inc. Autumn, That Bastard and other projects) for this blog/website.
  • In the early new year, expect an update post about future plans for the website and my own projects.

See you soon!


Website Version Here

By Christos Floratos

It is that time, again.

To wait for it to all end.

This waiting is a crux –

A crutch and a lux,

Spread thin over the fortnight’s influx.


This money system has left me bitter,

A tea that has long overstayed.

Corrupted green that has mixed with the soil,

Auburn turns black to brown, to a prodded boil,

Where the honey at the end would always spoil.


I am curious to their appraisals,

That my life is through a proverbial spring.

I may have all the bricks lined on the frontier,

But I confess, it is not yet veneer.

Stagnation has taken my masonry’s finest, oh dear.


It is all an arbitrary collection of bricks and stones,

For Autumn and Spring don’t exist.

It is the eternal summers and winters I chase.

For even though those bricks are lined, houses are placed

No residence could save me from ash encase.


No, I am most definitely in the fall.

Yet defiantly, death and dying is not what I feel.

I am warmed by the sun’s rays and adore the hearth.

Though daises are no longer pushing a girth,

This uncertainty is what lulls me to the earth.


I don’t dread Autumn, for it is going,

But because I know it will arrive again.

White horse with black hooves trampling the ground

And there is discovery in it yet against the sound.

For waiting has christened my crown.


Nothingness has become my favourite companion.

It is they, that lonesome path to permanence.

At the end nought could be done to amend

Except for you, reader, who has provided an ear on lend.

Perhaps the wait will be indefinite – these words need to be tend.


Autumn will be that bastard.

And we will never be through.

We will remain along this cursed line

These cheap words and rhymes, they will be just fine.

These horrible thoughts will be paid through the halt of a lifeline.

© Christos Floratos 2019