#(i feel like him being a shadow and also his eyes being lenses according to him would probearbly let him do that naturally

[oh-meow-swirls]

happy no yo-kai watch announcement ig. uhhh.

take more yo-kai watch/persona 4 crossover art (i wanted to draw more but this took like an hour alone)-

[sophiapathic]

Sk8: The Infinity - A Take on Love

Because my six unfinished assignments can wait until I throw this into the void, scream for five hours and after my voice gets hoarse, I resort to watching the beach episode on loop until next Saturday.

This was entirely sparked by the recap episode, which really pressed the reak havoc and theorize button in my brain. I am truly losing my grip on reality. Help. I apologize in advance, creatures of Tumblr. 

Me right now:

Anyways... 

I saw people mention here and there screaming that “we need canon relationships and they will get trust issues if a romance isn’t confirmed by the end of the series”. I think that mindset is harmful to have in this case. You can’t really avoid being disappointed if you get into the series expecting it to deliver on your wishes of gay romances. So, this might be controversial, but stay with me please. The anime and manga are both confirmed to be based primarily about the characters themselves and of course the sport -skating. I was hoping to take a closer look at what the series intends to do with certain dynamics and relationships according to yours truly. I also want explain my reasoning behind it not being queerbaiting, though it being inherently queer-coded, through the current lense of the canon.

Sk8: The Infinity is unquestionably a love story.

We need to state the genres this series is in, because some of us tend to forget. It is in fact not a shounen-ai, not a yaoi, not a romance, not even a josei. Say it with me it is a series in: COMEDY and SPORTS.

(Source is the official US Sk8 website.) The spotlight is udoubtedly on skating and what it means. Another important highlight of the show is how the definition of the sport relates to the characters, and how vastly different they are from what we expect. For example, when we see Shadow first, we pigeonhole him into this vulgar indecent rock and roll persona, only to find out later that he is actually a stweetheart at a flower shop. Joe is another very good case study. When we first see him we think of him as a womanizer muscle-head, later we find out he has a heart of gold and is very emotionally intelligent. We’re also quick to judge Miya as the cold, unfeeling prodigy then we discover how lonely and normal he is on the inside. And so on and so on. 

The show continues to defy our expectations of what each character should be like. In a way it is about breaking the conventional stereotypical roles we subconsciously assign to certain looks. We see that even in anime, multifaceted characters can exist without distrupting or damaging the delicate dynamics of a traditional sports anime. We successfully established the second focal point of the series as disproving stereotypes and presenting strong, diverse and unexpected personalities.

How about the defition of skating? What does it mean in the context of Sk8: The Infinity then? Where does a love story come into the picture? Skating is repeatedly described as a ritual of love within the anime, an idea that our villian, Ad*m, is obessed with. In a sense skating is a language of love canonically.

Then skating itself is love. Throughout the series we see varied styles of skating therefore different ways of expressing love, affection. We get to experience several metaphorical ways of “being in love” through characters skating with each other. Each dynamic shows us a type of love. Healthy, disfunctional, outright abusive. 

The way Reiki teaches Langa to skate can be interpreted as a direct metaphor for someone learning to love again after losing a person close to them. Langa’s father has died and Reiki literally brings him out of his shell again. It can also be interpreted as a queer kid’s experience of a world of romance that feels similar to his previous one, that being snowboarding, yet it still being new and different. Skateboarding. When due to Reiki Langa’s potential is discovered and his hunger for more and more develops, especially next to Ad*m, Reiki’s main frustration stems from them not being well-matched or on equal footing anymore. He feels like he cannot give Langa what he needs anymore. Which would obviously go againts the literal description of a healthy romance. Two people with mutual respect who both bring equal assets to the table. He feels like he needs to catch-up to be with Langa again. The only thing he doesn’t consider is Langa’s deep appreciation of him and the fact that literally he was the one who helped Langa experince the feeling of love again.

Kojiro and Kaoru’s relationships, to me, is very much representative of two people  wanting to be in each other’s presence, but due to their different language of love, miscommunicating horribly. Them bantering and insulting each other is the only way they know what to do with the other. The only way they can ensure the other’s attention and eyes are on them. This has worked so far. They are literal opposites, but both have a very clear definition of their form of love. To Joe skating, or love itself, is about the feeling and going with the flow. Being spontaneous. Whereas for Cherry, every move needs to be calculated and executed perfectly in order to be “efficient”. Their frustration comes from both wanting different things from the other, but not communicating their need properly. Despite this, they stick together due to a magnetic pull they obviously feel towards the other. The attraction is there, the trust is there, they are even well-matched in skill as we see them neck-to-neck constantly. They could give each other what the other wants. Only if they could express themselves well... This is why Joe pushes Reiki towards reconciling with Langa. he wants them to not fall into the same trap of not stating their  needs and thoughts properly.

Now Ad*m and Langa are obviously problematic and I don’t really want to have to explain, honestly guys. I really don’t  (since I have trauma regarding this subject), but I need to go into this a little bit. This is a textbook toxic predatory relationship. Where the older, twisted, damaged person, has an obsession with a young, outstading child. He wants to lead him into “Paradise” and show his “Eve” what love is really about. (Ain’t that disgusting you guys...) His form of love is inflicting pain, so I really can’t imagine a scenario where he and his “Eve” live happily ever after and everything is fine and dandy. He needs someone who he can torture. He literally is looking for someone who can handle his way of expressing affection, his “love hug”, who has the same type of crazy eyes for adrenaline and danger. His Eve. In his distorted mind, this all makes sense and Langa is that someone he was looking for thoughout the years. The problem is, he disregards Langa’s side where the relationship becomes problematic.

Cherry and Ad*m during their younger years seems to be a very innocent infatuation on Kaoru’s end. It is a one-sided relationship where someone is in love with the idea of a person long gone. They were discovering the world of skating, or the world of love together with Ad*m taking the lead. Cherry immediately became infatuated with him, wanted to learn his love language, wanted to be at the same level he was. It probably started very innocent. At first, Ad*m being gentle, because that’s how Tadashi was with him too, then after whatever happened between those two, Ad*m, disappointed in the way of love, or skating, Tadashi showed him, returned to what his aunts taught him. Maybe after injuring Kaoru with the “love hug”, therefore eliminating him from being his potential partner, started looking for his “Eve”, gradually became more agressive in love as in skating. Kaoru was distraught and wanted the Ad*m he originally learned love from back. Holding out some hope even years after. Trained to get used to his “love hug”, to literally condition himself to be able to get close to him. Ad*m, however showed Cherry brutally that he truly cannot handle his way of love.

Ad*m and Tadashi. *sighs* As of this post, I don’t really have enough information to give you a good overview of what I see this relationship representing. As far as I can tell Ad*m was abused horribly and to ease the pain and make him forget, Tadashi showed his another way of expressing affection. Skating or love. Basically a first love gone horrible bad, scarring an already abused child and turning them into a monster. Tadashi himself reinstates this during one of the episodes. It was his fault that Ad*m turned out the way he did. Their love slowly became strongly abusive throughout the years. Tadashi is stuck in it because he feels like he deserves it. This is a metaphor for  dangers of an emotionally and physically abusive relationship, where one person feels responsible and the other is using power. Tadashi’s guilt keeps him next to his master and he even endures abuse, now he is trying to break out and show Ad*m he messed up and I think this could potentially be a good representation of how difficult that process truly is. 

As far as Reiki’s, Miya’s, Shadow’s skating goes. Their main arc relating to love is first and foremost learning to accept themselves and aprecciating their uniqe way and style of skating. Only after can they become people who can truly be accomplished in love/skating (in Miya’s case I’m obviously talking about platonic feelings). Each of them had a preconception of their persona in love/skating, which gets questioned heavily throughout the series. Miya gets defeated, Shadow’s soft side gets discovered, Reiki... well. I get sad. :c Even though he taught someone to love again, to appreciate life again, he ended up discovering how dissatisfied he truly is with himself... These three all need to learn to love every aspect of themselves to reach fulfillment and to really experience healthy human relationships.

Sk8: The Infinity is unquestionably a love story, without explicitly being a romance, meaning that it is a tale about love, both romantic, platonic and everything inbetween through a queer-coded lens, showing both dysfunctional, abusive and healthy relationships, ways to express emotions and even delves into self-love and the idea of nature versus nurture in the villian’s case.

That is why I, personally don’t scream for a canon couple. To me, the show gets its main point about affection and love across, without making any of these relationships explicitly stated. Not to mention that it does justice to both of its assigned genres. Comedy and Sports as well. Yeah sure, I wouldn’t complain, but I think these dynamics are more than satisfying to watch, and much deeper than bishounens wanting to bang each other, which is, in my opinion, inherently sexualized. If they want, yeah they can confirm, make it canon without forcing it to be a center storyline. Hell, I would even be happy about it. I would clap with all of us. BUT, as the series currently is, I really see it taking the other route because of the above. This way audiences who want a yaoi or ikemen going at it, won’t be disappointed with the series when they find doesn’t revolve around that, straight viewers will just find it flamboyant, and people who look for subtext and want to read between the lines will certainly do that with the amount of crumbs and hints the writers gave us. 

We don’t need outright, written in black and white gay representation in Sk8 to experience very real types of love. The queer theme is secondary to me, just like queerness is, in most people’s lives. Yeah sure, it is a big thing, but not the only attribute a person has. My life doesn’t revolve around my queerness. I rarely talk about it. If I was a main character this would be a side-arc. Just like Sk8 doesn’t revolve around the characters coming out. It’s just them living their lives and possibly being queer while doing so. If you look at it this way, it is almost normalizing attraction between same-sex people by just showing it as regular love. If you can, why not interpret it this way, so it can be a liberating experience instead of a disappointing one.

Please don’t attack me! I am fragile and this is only my opinion. c:  *crawls back into her hole*

[systematicallycapricious]

Just rambling about a couple things I noticed in the P4U2/P4AU manga while I was trying to find some stuff for Hi-no-Kagutsuchi.

Minazuki slew the reanimated remains of 024 when he awakened to Tsukiyomi. When I first read through this, I thought it was just a generic robot like the ones in Scarlet Memories(Ch13) that just happened to have the same hairstyle due to being the same generation. But no, this is the only one drawn like this in the manga I think, and it matches 024 perfectly. And she’s missing an eye! And an arm, but that eye is right there. Q^Q

The rings in Sho’s eyes seem to be caused by the Plume of Dusk’s awakening? Or like actualization or something? By that I mean the initial gain/formation of sentience, not every time Minazuki takes control of their body. Because almost every drawing of him as a child in this, where the eyes are visible anyway, those rings are absent. Then when Minazuki first awakens to Tsukiyomi, suddenly they’re there... and then suddenly they’re gone when he ends up reverting control back to Sho. There seems to have been enough room to draw them if they were supposed to still be there, so where did they go?

According to the game, Labrys specifically;

“He(Minazuki) was still unstable then and got captured. After that, Ikutsuki tried to erase Minazuki-kun while leaving the Persona.”

So perhaps it was due to him still coming into a stable existence? Which would kind of reflect in how Minazuki saving Sho during the ch13 combat chamber flashback seemed to be something more survival-instinctual and less really something coherent I guess, and why it began and ended so abruptly. (There wasn’t really a ‘personality’ to speak of yet, just that innate instinct of living things to struggle against impending harm and death... Which kind of now makes me wonder if Minazuki saw Sho’s body as his own when he first awakened to a sentience/consciousness, given there potentially wasn’t really time or a potential level of coherence to learn otherwise. Plumes consider themselves whatever they’re in the physical form of when it comes to sentience, so a human body would just, at first, be... a body, and by association it must be the Plume’s body, right? Then it wouldn’t just be “this is Sho’s body” from the start.. {Capri, you’ve been writing a similar scenario for how many months, and you just now consider that possibility? /)_-;} That understanding would come later. ..And also that makes me wonder now if Plumes inherently know that they’re Plumes when they become sentient enough to think/feel such things, or if they only learn that fact if an outside force enlightens them on the matter. Huh..)

And explain why the rings remain beyond that point I suppose... After all, Minazuki is, presumably, always aware and conscious after whatever point he fully stabilizes/solidifies, while when he’s not yet like that they fade when his consciousness does. Or, alternatively, just a stable soul versus one that’s kind of fluctuating in and out of existence I guess (maybe kind of like a kindling flame?)? (And additionally explain why they would match the ASSWs’ eyes, that also have those rings in them and more developed/sentient Plumes of Dusk within them? Though the rings were still drawn on the rebuilt 5th gens, whom I’m not sure if they actually have Plumes at this point or not (since they were removed during Labrys’s story, but were they put back in for the purposes of Sho’s past? Can ASSWs still logistically function with missing Plume/personality module components, since they’re still technically just robots and computers alongside that? :?), so maybe not? I guess on the ASSW’s they could instead be indicative of like camera lenses or something, since their eyes are artificial? But they were also included pretty prominently on other supernatural entities from the Sea of Souls/Collective Unconsciousness such as the Velvet Siblings and any and all Shadow-selves/replicas included, soo...)

Although then there’s these two pictures as well, so ???? They’re offhand, so there’s not really any context I can scour for clues for clarification on this. :T Sho went into his coma when they tried to remove Minazuki post-Awakening, so it doesn’t seem likely that these would be from after that? I guess it could be from before the Awakening but after that one specific combat test though? :? I suppose all that can be done on that is speculation.

Completely unrelatedly to that, Kanji just ripping a Shadow apart with his bare hands. ..in the middle of the torrent of Shadows, but regardless. Dang dude.

And Minazuki with a gun is terrifying and we should all be glad that he doesn’t have nor use one on the regular. That is all. xP

[lovequeenofdiamonds]

Night

❛ 𝖶𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 ↳ 𝟬𝟯. 𝗔𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁 ⸝⸝ —— 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙄𝙠𝙚𝙙𝙖 - 𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙋𝙞𝙚𝙘𝙚 ❜

𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. The sky above Kuri heralded the arrival of a storm, yet another since Kaido's men had come to colonize the shores of Wano. Shin, for her part, has always loved the rain, it was her element of her, but by now she was firmly convinced that it was the sky desperate for the absence of Oden-sama. Since their lord and daymio had left following Whitebeard it had been they, his servants, who had to take the reins of a city built from the ashes of crime, trying to maintain the same splendor that Oden had managed to bring there. . After all, it was what she had done with each of them, she had helped them to find their own way, to follow their dreams and to fight for them. And that terrible lack was starting to make itself felt more every day. But if initially everything had worked in a precarious balance, even this last glimmer of hope seemed to be on the verge of crumbling once again. The removal of Ashura, according to Kin-san, had been an openly clever move to try to bring together under one banner the delinquents ready to declare war on the cities, so to avoid riots it was right for the former leader of the bandits to return. in his place without turning his back on the city of Kuri and all that Oden had done. This Shin was able to accept despite her being perfectly aware of the umpteenth lack of such an important figure in her life. She had already lost her Lord, Neko, Ino and also Izo. She didn't want to lose other companions. Yet her final stab had come like a bolt from the blue when Kamawatsu had come to tell her of Denjiro's final decision to get away from her. And at that moment Shin felt like she was dying because even though she was the most annoying four-eye of her ever, she still remained her Denjiro. [...] The exquisitely crafted katana at her side seems to have become terribly heavy as the figure of the albino samurai rushes down the stairs of the building, risking tripping over her own red haori that jumps at every step of her. Her hair is not arranged in the usual braid because he hasn't even had time to do it, given the unexpected news, and she seems to be short of breath. She had seen him go down the stairs and head towards the entrance and she herself hadn't hesitated even for a moment in reaching him just to be able to reproach him for all the pain she was making her feel in those moments. « Where do you think to go?»  she yells at him decisively, stopping at the top of the stairs and that's when the figure of the samurai with long dark hair turns towards her. He studies her carefully from behind the lenses of his prescription glasses and then here is that shadow of the scammer's smile that she has always had. « You know very well. Kin-san approves of what I am about to do also because without me Kuri's finances would not be able to cope with the expenses of the city. It is my job. » « So you're leaving too? Will you abandon us like this? Just for—… bets and geishas? Because that's what you're going to do, right? Weapons, sex, money. You only take care of this. » Scornful is the voice of the white-haired samurai that she hugs her clothes trying to remain impassive in front of that figure of her despite the fact that she knows that at any moment she would collapse. «Is that what it is, Shin? Do you want to tell me something? » Denjiro asks her suddenly serious while he remains at a distance from her, with one hand resting on the katana at his side and her almost hopeful expression. What did he expect her to say? That gave him real motivation to stay? Could she confess the unmentionable just to be able to keep it with her? Yet in the selfishness of a terribly jealous and in love woman he would have done so willingly, he would have yelled at him with all his heart not to go and stay there because without him his life could not be perfect. But you know, samurai are honorable people who put the good of the country first rather than their own and she was an Oden Kozuki samurai, she could not have behaved otherwise. She then she remains silent, once again, showing pride rather than her own feelings while the night masks those shining eyes of those who would have wanted so much to act differently. « As I imagined. Take care, brat. » And those last words of the samurai now lost in the wind and slowly turns without even looking at her face, perhaps because for a single moment even he had expected something.  A single word that convinced him to stay.

[jim-news-is-live-blog]

DJ and the Demons

For the seventeenth time in as many minutes, Jason glanced at the grandfather clock. It was tall, tall enough to fit a man (or man-shaped being) inside, and ornate, covered in faded bronze vines and flowers. The hands on the clock face ticked forward - another minute, gone. They should be here any minute now. Jason wasn’t the anxious type, but he was beginning to get worried. The directions were as clear as possible, he knew - he even put in pictures for his disaster-magnet siblings and steered clear of his usual flowery language, but the Jims were never ones for directions.

Jason took a breath, adjusting his tinted glasses on his nose and staring at the clock, willing them to arrive. It wasn’t often he get time off from his numerous clients, and what better way could he spend that time than with his family? After what felt like an eternity, the doorbell rang. Jason immediately jumped to his feet, glancing at his outfit in the mirror (immaculate, like always) before opening the door to the tide of Jims.

CJ and RJ, the reporter twins, entered first. 

‘Aha! DJ, we Jims are here! It’s very Jim to see you again. We found some demons!’ The reporter turned to his brother. ‘We are here at the home of our brother, the great and famous Drama Jim! Over and out.’

‘Oh? You did, did you?’ Jason asked, stepping aside to let the rest of the jabbering, awe-filled Jims into his home. It wasn’t by any means a large or magnificent house, but he remembered what living with the rest of the Jims was like - all this space, just for one person? Bliss. CJ turned off his camera, holding it lightly in his hands. Putting it away was out of the question - no Jim would dare to leave something so important, so crucial to their identity out of arm’s reach. 

‘Yes! It told us to sub-scri-be, whatever that means. But our reports are going well! People seem to like our show. We even managed to get a slot on a very Jim show! It was called- oh, but never mind that. How are you? How’s your new life going?’ RJ asked eagerly, microphone pointed towards Jason’s face. CJ grinned, a bright light entering his eyes as he slowly raised his camera again. Jason shook his head in regret, walking on through into the kitchen, where various Jims had already begun to raid his fridge for ingredients to make the secret foods that all Jims loved and craved, even him. 

‘I am afraid that I cannot say. My life has been busy, with all my clients, that I have had no time to enjoy a Jim away from Jim.’

‘Oh? Your clients? Breaking news! Breaking news, Jim! We have an exclusive report from the house of the mysterious DJ! DJ, have you anything Jim to say about your clients?’

Jason paused for effect, leaning on the side table. The Jims around him had stopped in their cooking, reverentially staring towards him and staying completely silent - out of respect for the interview, of course. He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, lapping up the attention.

‘Well… I did have a client recently. The Drowned Man.’

A ripple ran through the crowd, the excitement almost palpable.

‘The Drowned Man? Did you get that, Jim? How Jim of DJ! What was the Drowned Man’s problem that needed your Jim touch?’

Jason paused again.

‘His house was plagued by… a water demon. A beast, intent on driving this poor man from his home! A water demon that dampened his ceilings, flooded his house, and nearly drowned his wife! A water demon… that covered the house with blood!’

Gasps from the surrounding Jims. RJ, too, gasped, and CJ rocked the camera slightly, he was so taken aback. 

‘Did… did you banish the demon from his home?’ RJ asked. As though the very movement pained him, Jason shook his head, pushing his tinted glasses back up his nose.

‘The demon… it left of its own accord. But for all we know, it’s still out there, waiting… ready for another poor, unfortunate soul to drown in misery, despair, and… blood. However! I will be ready! When the demon comes again… I will stop it, once and for all!’

And with that, the Jims broke out into thunderous applause. Jason smiled, and then grinned. He had forgotten it. The joy, the… the fun that came with being with his numerous siblings. Of course, he was more of a fan of drama and mystery, but the mad, chaotic fun and the way they threw themselves wholeheartedly into everything… it was intoxicating.

‘Wow! How incredibly Jim of you, DJ! I’m sure that demon won’t know what hit it! And now back to you in the studio, Jim.’ 

With that, CJ lowered his camera and slung the strap over his shoulder - no more broadcasts, at least for a little while. They were safe. They were home. RJ smiled broadly at Jason.

‘Is it safe to… be ourselves here?’

‘Of course. I set up the wards myself.’

‘That’s very Jim of you, DJ!’ RJ grinned, and then, suddenly, he wasn’t RJ anymore.

Of course, he still looked relatively the same, but the demon standing before Jason was tall, small ram’s horns spiralling up from his mass of wild hair. His nails had elongated, almost become claw-like, and with the rip of fabric two radiant, blue-feathered kingfisher wings burst from his back. 

One by one, the Jims dropped their human disguises, standing about as though they expected the door to be kicked in at any moment. When it wasn’t, they began to laugh, and chat, and become comfortable once again.

CJ, a demon with two wide eyes like camera lenses and wings so fluffy they served as sound mufflers for the interviews, looked at Jason and tilted his head.

Aren’t you going to change? The Interviews always go so much better if they know we’re like them, he signed towards Jason. 

‘Oh… oh! I almost forgot. How silly of me.’

Just like that, Jason pulled off his tinted glasses and changed, easing back into his preferred form.

He was still the same height, to his constant annoyance, but his eyes - always a deep mauve, like his suit - flickered with a bright, changing light. He grew talons, and sharp fangs, his tongue elongating and splitting like a snake’s. He had no wings, and no shadow either. A faint mauve aura flickered to life around him, and Jason relaxed fully. He was free, finally.

‘Jiblings! Gather round!’ called RJ. The demons from all over the house heard, and, almost at once, gathered into a large crowd around RJ. The reporter Jim raised his head, struggling to be heard over the chatter of the family. In frustration, he flapped his wings once and rose onto the island in the middle of Jason’s kitchen, standing proudly, microphone in hand.

‘My family! We are gathered here today not just to meet with DJ and find out about his very Jim life, but we are also here for an Interview!’

Stomps and cheers, calls from the demons so loud and full of vigour that the glasses in Jason’s cupboard rattled and clinked dangerously. RJ raised his hands, quieting the Jims.

‘Now, for the Interview to work and for us to make any demons we find happy and less alone, we need the Jimgredients! Bring out… Mother Jim’s secret Jim pie!’

The crowd parted reverentially as two of the most skilled Cooking Jims walked forward, a steaming pie on a large, white-and-blue ceramic plate (the best that Jason had) held above their heads. They placed it next to RJ, who nodded in thanks.

‘Next! The Ooh-ja board of Hell!’

Once again, a gap in the crowd, and two demon Jims - lucky devils, getting to carry the ouija board - walked up to the island and reverentially placed the board by his feet. Jason had tried time and time again to tell his brothers that it wasn’t pronounced ooh-ja, but they never listened. His admonishments were like water sliding off a duck’s back.

‘And now… bring out… Sarah! The most important part for making our friends feel welcome!’

Another gap in the crowd, but this time, the demons walking through were met with applause and coos from the demon Jims on either side. Carried between the two demons was Sarah - an incredibly furry Collie who always seemed to be grinning a doggy grin. The only indication that she was actually a hellhound was the way her fur seemed to smoke at the edges, or the way her eyes were tar-black. She was still incredibly cute. Jason, as he watched her leap from her handler’s arms and onto the island next to RJ, felt a soft smile being tugged onto his lips. He tried to grit his teeth and force it down, but it was too much. Sarah was just too sweet. With all the Jimgredients prepared, RJ called a list of the Jims who would perform the interview, and thankfully, Jason’s name was on the list. The troupe of demons walked solemnly into his study - the room that was the most free of clutter - and began to set up the ouija board in total silence. Well. Near-total silence - Sarah’s panting and her rhythmic thumping of the floor with her tail brought a small smile to every Jim’s face as they worked. 

Eventually, with the smell of the pie wafting throughout the room, red and white candles lit and the curtains drawn, the Jims all placed their hands on the marker for the board (CJ held Sarah’s paw in place, too). RJ looked over at Jason, his eyes glowing night-vision green in the dark. Jason understood immediately, and smiled. He didn’t acquire the title of Drama Jim for nothing, after all.

‘Jims, we are gathered here today to sit, and talk, and make new and wonderful friends. We all know who we are and what we have done, but our lonely, trapped friends on the other side may not. If you are listening out there! We are not humans, calling on you for a joke! We are demons, just as you are! We are Jimus Demonous, and we are stuck here in the mortal plane just as you are stuck in Hell. I - we - all know what being in Hell is like. It’s miserable, and lonely, and always just too hot for comfort. So, to alleviate your pain, or boredom, or simply if you just want to have a chat - we Jims are here for you. And if that doesn't convince you, we have Mother Jim’s famous pie! Legendary throughout Hell for its outstanding flavour, it is still warm from the oven! We also have Sarah. Say hi, girl!’

Sarah barked. The Jims cooed and patted her, stroking her fur and scratching her chin. Sarah looked immensely pleased with herself. Suddenly, the marker began to move beneath Jason’s finger.

‘It’s happening! We- we’ve found someone!’ RJ stage-whispered. Jason nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the marker. Despite being the only Jim to hold the title of Drama Jim, he had never really done anything… important before. He had been making that speech up on the fly, and luckily, it had worked. The marker began to judder and shake, and then…

‘It’s rising! It’s rising!’ RJ whispered, his green eyes wide with terror. Ah. So that wasn’t a common occurrence for an Interview, then.

‘Keep concentrating!’ Jason hissed. ‘They must be really powerful! They might not even be trapped in the inbetween - they could be contacting us directly from Hell! We might be able to get a message back home!’

With a shudder, the marker ripped itself from beneath the Jims’ fingers, swirling in the air. A cold wind burst from the marker, blowing out the candles and ruffling the curtains. Then, a white light so bright Jason was completely blinded, and a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

When his senses came back to him, Jason blinked and groaned, clutching his head. The room was a mess - papers strewn everywhere, the chairs which he had carefully stacked had been all turned over, and several of the candles had been knocked over and were bleeding wax onto his carpet. Oh, yes. And there was a silhouette standing - no, hovering - on top of the ouija board. Jason swallowed.

‘Friend, we greet you! It is simply wonderful that you’ve decided to meet us and have a-’

‘Jason? CJ? RJ? The Jims… I hadn’t expected to see you doing this summoning. I thought you hated demons?’ came a sonorous, fractured voice. The silhouette flickered into view, and Jason’s mouth went dry.

Blue and red aura. Grey skin. White suit. There was no doubt about it - it was Dark. And now he knew the Jims’ most closely-guarded secret. Oh, Jim.

‘Um… pranked you?’ he said weakly. Dark raised an eyebrow. CJ smacked his head into his hands. This was gonna be one long, long Interview, all right.

-woo just a fun little demon!jims fic!! hope you liked it!!

-clumsy jim

[post-itpenny]

Breaking Down

Here we go onto the next part and our old familiar friend Angst. After this there will be a short break form the story, if anything but to stall having to write the end.

Tagging @grotesquegabby and @clownsgobeepbeep

Magpie came home.

She walked in through the front door of her home with Maggie who she then insisted returned to Billy’s manor.

“Your priorities have to change now poppy,” Magpie said with a small smile. “Go home to your fiancé and get some rest. You’ll need it soon enough.”

So Magpie was left alone, Honey and Brie having gone out somewhere with Trouble. Magpie was happy they were taking such good care of him, though it would have been nice to come home to everyone.

So she fixed herself a cup of tea and sat down at the kitchen table. Alone.

The shadows grew long in the evening light. Magpie fidgeted in her seat, she was so hungry. How was that possible after spending a week with all she could eat Joy?

But then again had she eaten?

Magpie stood up with a clatter as the chair fell backwards. Not bothering to correct it as she rushed out the door and into the twilight.

It felt odd putting on a performance, no assistant this time as she didn’t want Maggie exerting herself too much. 

Magpie spent the first half of her performance feeling every bit of a sham. She had wanted to recreate some of the spectacular sights she had seen on Blackwood’s planet and the audience did seem to enjoy themselves, but it just wasn’t the same.

For the first time ever, Magpie called for an intermission.

It was a gamble, people could wander out of the tent during that time and she would lose her meal. But backstage Magpie sat on the floor crying. Why wasn’t it the same?

Perhaps because her talents weren’t the same.

Magpie sat up in her revelation, Blackwood could create literally anything, but Magpie could not. She was limited according to adding the essence of life. The more sentient the more difficult, however after performing some of the acts and stunts she had seen on Blackwood’s planet Magpie realized something.

She definitely beat the elder when it came to imagination. 

Magpie was a picky eater, always had been. Her true dietary need was serendipity, an emotion she had found over the years was tricky to cultivate. To draw it out you needed a certain “pop” to what you gave the crowd. She didn’t need to make them happy, she needed to have them in awe.

Magpie wipes her eyes and rushed back out onto the stage ending the intermission without warning. She gave her best smile and snapped her fingers.

The Neon Circus was a favorite of hers. A lighted spectacle of a ghostly circus performing around her chosen audience in bright colors. The finale being a three tier carousel that appeared to be made of live animals that glowed in the darkness. Braver audience members would climb onto the ride. Magpie always liked this part, seeing people discovering their favorite animal and for just a moment being able to interact with a live version in a magical and unearthly way.

The animals weren’t real of course, but they were beautiful and easily deceived the crowd. 

In the end, the emotions of sudden good fortune and unexpected delight that the audience felt was so strong Magpie found she got her fill without even having to pick a single victim to take home to her dinner table.

It was good.

Magpie strolled home under the dim streetlights. She felt better, perhaps a good meal was what she had been needing.

“Weeell hello my Starshine.”

Magpie froze up before spinning around on her heels. Jack stood behind her, casually leaning against a wall. “Wonderful performance tonight. Gotta say though Pumpkin the first half didn’t seem like your usual flair.”

Magpie bristled, “You were there?”

Jack smiled and pushed himself from the wall. “Of course Sweetheart, you had been gone for a couple days and Ol’ Jack was worried.”

“Yo-you’ve been spying on me?”

Jack chuckled, “no just watching out for you. The bug and bird won’t ever let me come say hi you know?”

“So stalking?”

“I just like keeping tabs on my favorite girl.” Jack smiled as he approached her.

Magpie backed up, she wasn’t afraid of Jack, seeing him actually made her mad as hell. She was afraid of herself.

“Angel I’ve missed you,” Jack cooed, “You can’t say you don’t miss me-“

“I don’t.”

“You were never good at lying Angel,” Jack chuckled as he reached for her. “I know every inch of you, and I know how your pretty little heart works.”

Jack pulled Magpie to him and kissed her.

For a moment-

For only a moment.

Magpie let herself enjoy it.

She had not forgotten how good it was, how good a kisser he actually was. 

For just a moment Magpie let herself enjoy it.

And then she slammed her heel down onto his toes as hard as she could.

Jack shouted in pain before shoving Magpie back. She fell to the ground hard, her anger and hurt boiling over. 

“I hate you! I hate you!”

The streetlights flaired bright before shattering. The surge of electricity spreading into the city in seconds, knocking out the power. The ground around Magpie cracked and buckled, nearby trees caught fire. 

Through it all, Jack held his ground with a wicked smile, “no you don’t Starshine. You don’t hate me and you know that’s the truth.”

“Looks like she does dude.”

Jack looked up, behind Magpie stood a clown dressed like something out of the 90s. He grinned, showing a set of sharp teeth.

Jack stuck his hands in his pockets and chuckled, “nice set of chompers there Rex.” Jack sneered. “If you don’t mind this is between my mate and I.”

Magpie swiped at him with a long set of claws. Her body distorting into a thousand shapes at once. She came back together in a loud “snap!” As a wave of energy shot out from her like a ripple in a pond.

The wave spread across the city. Flat tires, stubbed toes, muggings and getting arrested, cooking fires, bone breaks, food poisoning, and one small child dropped their ice cream.

Alex casually watched his shoelaces untied themselves and with a small “pop!” One of the lenses from his sunglasses fell out of their frame.

Jack now looked nervous. As if he knew something Alexander did not. Magpie was curled up on the ground as if in pain. 

Alex stepped around her and up to Jack, one of his strange eyes visible thanks to the missing lens.

“Homeslice, if that wasn’t a sign she doesn’t want you around then I don’t know what is.”

Jack smirked and stepped closer, his chest almost touching Alex’s.

“Friend I’m not much in the mood for a challenge, but if a fight is what you want-“

“Chill my dude,” Alex chuckled, “I̷͉̖̠̺̳̳͜͝ͅ’̸̙̰̹̳̀̓͂͘͘̚m̸̲̰͖͈̗̼̐̂̀̃͌̋͋ ̷̡̧͉̲̦̩̟̫͋̀͂̀͆̕j̴̨͙͚̻̩̟̘̳̎ú̴̙̲̟̍s̶̯̗̎̄͐t̷͔̖͈͓͉͉̿̒̅̀̑ͅ ̸̝̞͌̈́̐t̶̲̘͙͓͌̌͜r̵̨͕̹̞͕̉̽̔ÿ̵̧̋̏͠ī̴͇͉̭͝n̴̤͍̫̆͋͒g̴̺͉̠̹̰̑̋̾̏͝ ̷͙̯̣̞͉̌̈̏̆t̵̢̛͕̘̩̰̳͚̹̓̐͛̇̕o̵̝͔͓̯͇̬̰̍̊̓̊͑ ̶͚̟͈̱̍̀h̸̝̏̀͌ã̷͓̥̭͐v̸̢̤͇̺̻́e̵͚̚̕͠ ̸̱̐͠ȁ̴̡̙̹͉̮̣̘̏̌̓̈́͝ͅ ̶̡̟̣͓̙̞͖̗̈̽͆̿g̴͕͓͇̥̟͕͍̈ơ̷̠̱̅͒͋ô̴̰̈́̾̆͂͒͠d̸̹̞͚̝̘̫̣̓̑̉̐͂ͅ ̵̺̟̬̞̯̻̋t̵̼͚̘̎͊̓̈́̂̅i̷̧̤̫͉̹͗͊̀͊̋̿͘m̵̞͖̦̭̣̈͜e̵̜̱̔̎͋̃̆͐̈́͝.̶͚͈͓̞̳͚̥̎͛̑”̷̫͖̤͊́̀̉̇

Jack stepped back with a slight look of alarm. The ground shook as another wave of bad luck flowed from Magpie and into the surrounding area. Cars crashed, glass shattered, fights broke out,lightning struck buildings-

A bird pooped on Jacks’ shoulder.

Alex started laughing, Jack looking at his shoulder in disgust. 

“Step off bro. Stop acting like your anything special.”

Alex turned to Magpie, ignoring an angry Jack.

“Sup chica, funny story but there I was at the club. Party getting real good and the power goes out. Not good for business you know what I mean?”

Magpie was a crying mess, Alex sighed and leaned against the wall to wait it out, Jack was long gone. 

“Yo that was pretty neat though, good luck and good luck huh?”

Magpie sniffled and looked up at him, “I’m sorry what?”

Alexander quirked and eyebrow, so she didn’t know then?

“Never mind, anyways you good now? Done going postal?”

“... what?”

Alexander grinned, “you chill?”

“What?”

Alexander laughed, “I’m just messing with you, but I do need you to turn back on the power, also you owe me a new pair.” He insisted as he held out his broken glasses.

Magpie half heatedly snapped her fingers and Alexander’s glasses repaired themselves. She then timidly pulled off her glove to inspect a tear in the fabric from when she fell.

“You pulled off a clown’s mask,” Alexander observed, “not the brightest idea.”

Magpie hid her hand behind her back. Alex chuckled, “you good chica.” Alex said as he pulled off his own glove to show a blackened hand. 

Magpie smiled bitterly, “does anything bother you? Also my name is not Chica Alexander.”

Alex chuckled and pulled Magpie to her feet, “It’s just Alex. No need to be so formal with me Pie.”

“But Alexander is a perfectly nice name and….. I’m sorry Pie?”

Magpie broke into a fit of giggles, Alexander looking down to watch his shoes magically retie themselves. 

“I’m not to sure of that one,” Magpie giggled as she snapped her fingers, restoring power to the city at last.”

Alexander grinned, turning to leave when a hand grabbed his jacket sleeve.

Magpie swayed slightly, as if exhausted. Her cheeks colored just slightly, “Alex I’m sorry to bother you more but could you please see me home?”

Alexander offered her his arm to lean on. “Sure thing, let’s bounce.”

“... What?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day it poured rain. 

Magpie sat out in the garden at a small table, seeming unbothered by the fact she was soaked. She had tried to contact James that morning. Saddened to hear how shaken he had been by coming to get Magpie from her elder’s planet. The D’Vitts were not happy, the fear that she had caused so much trouble… again… it sat in her gut like heavy stones.

She had not slept much, the confrontation with Jack… she felt like her insides had been on fire. What was that?

“This is more of duck weather than magpie weather don’t you think?”

Magpie looked over her shoulder to find Cecilio walking out towards her. Magpie snapped her fingers as a plethora of umbrellas appeared hovering above them, blocking out the rain. 

Cecilio sat down next to her and said nothing for a short time, looking down to notice Magpie had her hand out to him.

“Could I have one please?”

Cecilio frowned, “one what?”

Magpie gave him a rather pointed look, the request suddenly clicking as he pulled out a cigar and lit it before passing it along to Magpie and lighting one for himself.

Magpie took a long drag before allowing the smoke to escape her mouth slowly. “Thank you.”

Cecilio nodded, “didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.”

Magpie tapped some ash off the end of the cigar and took another long drag. Cecilio shrugged and decided not to push the subject further. He was here for another reason anyways.

“So how goes it?”

Magpie did not answer, focusing on her cigar.

Cecilio tried again, “so that planet was crazy right?”

It rained even harder.

Cecilio sighed, releasing a puff of smoke as he did.

“Maybe I should go back.”

He turned to Magpie in surprise, “is that what you want to do?”

Magpie looked away but did not answer.

Cecilio pushed further, “it seems to me that a lot of people were worried about you. Why go back?”

Magpie put her head in one hand, “because I’m just trouble here. At least back there I didn’t bother anyone.”

“Who said you were bothering people?” Cecilio questioned. “If anything I think it would bother your friends a lot if you went back. Magpie that place was one giant venus fly trap and you know it. Do you really want to be like those people?”

“No.”

“You can’t just be happy and all sunshine all the time.”

“You can, you’re ex is dead.”

“Yeah and I about had a heart attack in the process of it, she didn’t go out easy.” Cecilio admitted. “I’m still in the Bad Ex Club with you.”

Magpie gave a tiny smile as she crushed the remains of her cigar under her boot. The rain letting up just a little. 

Soon the two walked inside and Magpie was surprised to find Belinda sitting with Magpie and a plate of brownies. 

Apparently Pepper had been upset from Blackwood’s planet as well much to Magpie’s unease.

But Belinda had wanted to check on Magpie and brought fudge brownies which helped a little.

Magpie was willing to admit the company was nice. She explained to the three of them how she had been feeling lately, had been feeling for a long time actually. Admitting that the appeal of a planet free from worry and sadness had gotten the best of her. She apologized several times and each time told to let it pass. Belinda was actually a very good listener, it was such a small act but it did help. 

Cecilio looked outside to notice it had stopped raining.

Also, there was one more cigar left in his pocket then he had otherwise thought, her looked to Magpie but she seemed preoccupied in teasing Maggie for eating three apples in a row. Cecilio looked back at the cigar and chuckled.

Huh, neat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening Honey and Brie came home with Trouble.

The little dachshund was in fits. Crying and licking Magpie’s face so intensely Magpie had to sit down. His little body wiggling as he wagged his tail as hard as he could.

Brie was very happy to have Magpie home, Honey was clearly unhappy.

“You promised to come back in three days, you were gone a week.”

Magpie flinched, “I know and I am sorry about that. I honestly lost track of time.”

Honey rolled her eyes and went to go sit on the couch, Brie joining her.

Magpie took a deep breath and sat down in the chair across from them.

“Please, let me explain myself.”

Honey shrugged but said nothing.

Magpie placed her hands in her lap, fingers nervously intertwined. “I have been… I… I have made a lot of mistakes that I spent a great deal of time paying for. I caused a great deal of grief for my family and had to pay a heavy price. I made the mistake of letting the wrong person have my heart and turn me into someone rather awful.”

Brie watched Magpie with a worried expression, Honey however seemed unchanged. 

Magpie continued, “I’m telling you this because even though I’m trying to move past all of that I still am not perfectly ok. My former mate still gives me a great deal of trouble and my family do not trust me… and some still want nothing to do with me. So when I was offered a chance to get away from my own problems for a short time I took it. However, I made the mistake of not considering the problems you two are dealing with.”

Honey quirked an eyebrow but still did not say anything.

Magpie took another breath. “I know you two are still hurt and I should never have left you even for a few days. That was not fair and when I realized my mistake I came home right away. I have come to care about you both greatly and I chose to make watching out for you two my responsibility, and I’m sorry. I can’t make any guarantees about what will happen in the future but I do want you to know that I do care about you both and you have a home here for as long as you wish.”

Brie was up and hugging Magpie, picking her up from the floor in the process. Honey stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles from her dress. “Okay, how about some tea and cake then?”

Magpie smiled, “yes that sounds lovely.”

[tinabritton-photography]

Seeing the Light . . . Portrait Research and practice. Not complete!

Today kicked off a brand new project brief called ‘Seeing the Light���. This brief is designed around capturing 4 portraits, family, friends or strangers, in natural light. In this brief we can use either or a combination of a diffuser, scrim, flags or reflectors in certain situations according to how intense the natural ambient light is.

What are the Qualities of Light?

Natural light is any light generated by the sun. The light of day can be harsh or diffused, depending on the weather, cloud-cover, heat and cold, direction, or even time of year. 

Without the benefit of light, there can be no image. The frame would be void, black and lifeless. So one could say that each image has a symbiotic relationship light. There is a push and pull between the areas of shadow and the lighter areas of an image, irregardless of whether the light falling on our subject is natural or lit with studio lighting. 

Characteristics of Light

The Golden Hour

***************************************************************************************

Portrait Lenses

(note: I have not included the 35mm here because headshots taken with the 35mm exhibit distortion. That being said, with distance, the lens can be good, however, it is just not a portrait lens and will never truly be as good as the ones listed below.)

I think that lenses should be chosen by, not only where the image is going to be taken, say, i.e. a very small studio, or on walk-about around Glasgow, but also available light

The three prime portrait lenses that really shine for me are - 

50mm - The 50mm prime lense has a wide aperture and is a great standard portrait lens. It has a fantastic shallow depth of field, and though it has less distortion that a 35mm, there is still some barrel distortion with headshots, so I would stick to half-body or full-body captures.

What is barrel distortion? See below.

Barrel distortion is an aberration and “happens because the field of view of the lens is much wider than the size of the image sensor and hence it needs to be “squeezed” to fit”. (Mansurov, 2019)

“Some barrel distortion is present in most wide angle lenses and zoom lenses with relatively short focal lengths.” (Mansurov, 2019)

(Mansurov, 2019)

Since we have spoken about barel distortion, we have to include pin cushion distortion. Pin cushion distortion in zoom lenses, in particular, consumer grade or even some pro lenses. More expensive lenses contain compensating elements that reduce pincushion distortion to acceptable levels.

(Mansurov, 2019)

The above are examples of optical distortion.

Below is what happens when you capture up-close images with a wide angle lens. This however, has to do with perspective distortion and not lens distortion. Lenses have no perspective. I will be researching this further in a later blog.

(Mansurov, 2019)

See below - focal length does not impact perspective distortion when you are far enough away from your subject.

(Lightroom, 2019)

However - perspective distortion is caused by the distance between the lens and the subjects face, NOT focal length. 

(Lightroom, 2019)

85mm - Most photographers would agree that the 85mm is the best lens for portrait photography. It has a wide aperture, shallow depth of field and less of the distortion that we get with the 35mm and 50mm lenses, however there is still some barrel distortion. It is still a go-to lens though because close-up to our sitter we capture a flattering perspective of our subject’s face. Also, 85mm at 1.4mm - 1.8mm will make the background melt into a creamy background, even with waist-high shots, and full length shots. At full length there is still a wonderful 3D feel to the shots with a decent amount of background if you so choose. 

135mm - The 135mm prime lens has a wide aperture and longer focal length which gives gorgeous bokeh. I have a manual 135mm lense and the bokeh is swirly and beautiful and it produces sharp images, however, it is manual focus, so would be better in the studio imo. I do note however that, the 85mm is a better choice for closeness to the subject you are shooting. A conversation can continue and a rapport can be built to put her or him at ease. (Abbott, 2019)

Nikkor DX 18-105mm lens - This has been my go to lens when I am out shooting street photography or street portraits. It spans the ranges I need for portrait photography. For example, see the 4 images below . . .

TinaBritton Photography 2014

TinaBritton Photography 2014

TinaBritton Photography 2017

TinaBritton Photography 2017

105mm (full frame sensors) - This is my next prime lens. Yes, the 18-105mm I already own expands to 105mm, however, I want the constant large aperture the Sigma lens offers. 

What about zoom lenses?

What if you only have a 70-200mm (as with the 18-105mm above) in your bag and cannot afford prime lenses right now? The 70-200mm can work for you in many portrait situations. Now, I like to be close to my models. It’s more personal and while I am shooting, I can have a conversation with he or she. This puts the model at ease. With this lens we can still shoot in that range, however, that being said, capturing a portrait, though I have to stand further away, at say, 200mm at 2.8mm creates a beautiful background and unique perspective. Watch out for distortion. (Hull and >, 2019)

*****************************************************************************************************

How do we control the light?

What is a Scrim?

Scrims is a woven fabric on a frame that reduces the light by about 1/2 stop. “The Full scrims will dim the light intensity across the entire beam spread, while 1/2 and graduated scrims are used to even out the beam spread when lighting a subject or background from an angle.”

(Anon, 2019)

What is a Flag?

A flag (black refector) is used to block or control (shape) the light in your scene. It can be used to fill in shadow (negative fill) and to increase contrast. It can stop flares from reaching your camera, almost in the same way a lens hood does.

(Digital-photo-secrets.com, 2019)

What is a diffuser?

A diffuser (or silk) goes between your light source and your subject and produces a finer light, like a softbox. It reduces glare and is flattering to your subject.

(Ghionis, 2019)

What is a reflector?

A reflector helps light reach your subject and also helps to soften the light meeting your subject. It comes in silver and gold and white. Many come in a kit as the one seen below. Be careful using the silver as it can be harsh if bouncing bright sun. Gold gives your subject a golden hour look, however, in some situations, can give your sitter a strange glow. White gives your subject a soft glow.

(Digital-photo-secrets.com, 2019)

Choose 5 Photographers -

1. Henri Cartier-Bresson -

Henri Cartier-Bresson was born to a successful textile manufacturer and his mother (1908-2004) in France. The master of capturing a candid moment, Bresson was the father of street photography and photojournalism. It was his belief that photography was about capturing the spontaneous or the ‘decisive moment’.

Throughout his career, Bresson took hundreds of natural light portraits of famous people, many of them well known and important artists of his era.

It was in 1947 that Henri and some of his peers started a cooperative photography agency called Magnum Photos, dedicated to the premise that photography had become an influential communicative tool. Bresson’s responsibility in the agency was to travel to India and China, but he also travelled to countries such as Greece, Moscow, Egypt and America. His most beloved assignment was his trip to Moscow. “He was the first photographer allowed to enter the USSR after the death of Stalin in 1953”. (Huxley-Parlour Gallery, 2019)

Photograph of Pablo Picasso by Henri Cartier-Bresson. (Ipoxstudios.com, 2019)

Photograph of Pablo Picasso by Henri Cartier-Bresson (Ipoxstudios.com, 2019)

Photograph of Henri Matisse by Henri Cartier-Bresson. (Ipoxstudios.com, 2019)

2. John Loengard -

John Loengard is an American photography born 1934 in New York. Harvard educated, he learned his craft at the International Centre for Photography in New York. His photographic journey began when he was 11 years of age when he began capturing images of his family.

It was in his senior year at Harvard when Loengard was asked by Life magazine to freelance for them by photographing a freighter run aground on Cape Cod in 1956. This began his work with the Magazine.

In 1972 Life magazine suspended its weekly publication and it was then that became the picture editor of Life Special Reports. At the time, he was also the picture editor of People magazine during is formation and for the beginning 3 months of its publication.

Loengard helped in Life magazine’s rebirth and was its picture editor until 1987. While working for Life and other magazines, the photographer authored 10 books and in 2005, He was named “One of the 100 most influential people in Photography” by American Photo. He was inducted into the International Photography Hall of Fame in 2018.

Below is an image of Georgia O'Keeffe sitting on the roof of her home in 1967.

Georgia O'Keeffe photographed on the roof of her Ghost Ranch home in New Mexico, 1967. John Loengard—The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images. (Time, 2019)

Image of Richard Avedon by John Loengard, 1994. (Photographers, Books and Hours, 2019)

Annie Leibovitz with her Assistant, Robert Bean on the Chrysler Building by John Loengard. (Johnloengard.com, 2019)

Brassai's Eye by John Loengard. (Johnloengard.com, 2019)

3. Alfred Eisenstaedt -

was a German-born American photographer who was well known for taking black and white shots of celebrities and is famous for using the 1.5 Armature. What is the 1.5 Armature?

“1.5 Armature: There are two ways to break down a 1.5 rectangle. The most basic is the 1.5 Armature. It is created by drawing two diagonals from each corner of a negative. Then draw their reciprocals from opposing corners, which intersect the diagonals at 90°. Through the Eyes of the Diagonal and their reciprocals, draw vertical and horizontal lines through their intersections. The 1.5 Armature was a very popular method used by Cartier Bresson early in his career.” (PetaPixel, 2019)

Below we have Marilyn Monroe in a black and white sweater. Her hair has a soft sheen and is worn natural. The background appears to be a barn structure and give the image a mid-tone grey texture.

Marilyn Monroe (Black Sweater Landscape), 1953

Below is an iconic image seen from around the world. A crowd of happy people gathered on the street in celebration, a man tilts his girl back for a long overdue kiss. I have always loved this image and the start black and white contrast.

Alfred Eisenstaedt, VJ Day in Times Square, August 14-1945, Robert Mann Gallery (PetaPixel, 2019)

What can I say? We all know who this man is in the photo below. Albert Einstein sits writing. Love the rich blacks and the striped batter of the chair against the grey of his sweater and white of his hair.

Alfred Eisenstaedt, Albert Einstein, Princeton, New Jersey, 1949, Robert Mann Gallery. (Artsy.net, 2019)

4. Stanislav Puchkovsky (Sean Archer on 500px) is self taught photographer from Yekaterinburg, Russia. He picked up his first camera in 2012 (a Lumix G3) and hasn’t stopped shooting since. And his light source? He uses natural light to capture his classically beautiful images. Amazingly, he shoots all his portraits in his apartment with window light. (Sarkar, Kosa and Sarkar, 2019)(Diamond, 2019)

(Diamond, 2019)

(Sarkar, Kosa and Sarkar, 2019)

(Archer, 2019)

5. Magdalena Berny

Berny is a self-taught photographer born in 1976 and based in Poland. Her natural light child portraits have been recognised and published in “various press dedicated to photographs such as Digital Camera, Click Magazine, Modern Lens Magazine, Magzter, Great Inspire, just to name few.” (Symposion 2019, 2019)

(Dreams Factory Photography, 2019)

(Instagram.com, 2019)

(Instagram.com, 2019)

Today we went on a walkabout from class in Glasgow to take images of each other (students). The group I was with only chose a silver/white reflector. The diffuser disappeared with the other students.

Here are but a few of the images I captured on the day . . .

Intensely Adam . . .

We used a refector to get light into the ‘cage-like’ structure. I like framing my subjects. I should have had Adam hide his earphones. I can always take them out in Photoshop. Here we are using a silver reflector. I can only assume that the colour cast on Adam’s face is from the rust covered bars surrounding him.

I’m not perfect. It has been a long time, and the excitement of taking images out with the class was the only reason I can fathom why I would make such a rookie mistake as allowing the top of the stone fence behind Adam to run right through his head. No refector.

I like taking images of my subjects that help tell a story about who they are. Adam is extremely talented and has great instincts in photography. Here we are using no reflector.

This is a woman with her dog. She was walking on the pathway where we were practicing and I asked if we could take her portrait. She was reluctant at first, but said yes. I could tell she was all about her dog. This image is a dog portrait with their human. (Again with the wall. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were through her shoulders.)

The lovely woman put down her dog and allowed me to take her photo. She didn’t take off her sunglasses.

Adam being inquisitive . . .

Adam relaxing on the wall.

Adam rules on the wall . . . a bit over exposed on his face me thinks?

Adam peering into the lens.

My brief, well underway . . .

For my first portrait, I chose my husband. We actually took photos for this portrait the same time and day as I was also working on my #Who project. This worked out well. I love the small Laundry cabin that is situated in the beautiful Finlaystone Country Estate; a large country estate in Renfrewshire near Glasgow, seat of the current Chief of the Clan MacMillan. We have visted here a few times, and I love walking about the trees. The laundry cabin is awesome with its old world objects.

For my second portrait, I chose my friend Andrew. We travelled to Glasgow and visited our favourite place to eat because I knew they had big beautiful windows. The thing about the windows, they are not clean on the outside, so they diffused the light really well. The weather was 13 celsius and it was a cloudy day. Exposure was 1/100 sec at f4.5 using my 50mm lens. I had him sit really close to the window. What I noticed was, there was this white powdery looking dust on the outside of the window and it seemed to make the entire window, even though it was cloudy, glow with light.

For my 3rd portrait, I am going to capture images of strangers, either on Glasgow streets, or perhaps walking in the woods. I have taken my first images of a very talented woman singing on Buchanan Street in Glasgow. I loved her soulful voice. I walked up and stood in front of her until I caught her gaze. I pointed at her, as she was singing, and pointed at my camera then to her. She nodded yes to my silent request. She kept singing while I took a few shots.

I will take further portraits of strangers in the coming week.

For my 4th portrait, I have captured images of my 93-year-old mother-in-law. She is a beautiful woman who lives in Port Glasgow high above the Clyde. There is a gorgeous veiw from her window. I wanted to use that as my backdrop as she has strong ties with her community and has been living in the same house for 65 years. As a matter of fact, my husband was born in the house.

Mum is always talkative, and she never sits still. She is the most inquisitive woman I know to date. Because I knew this setting up for our session, I asked her to stand next to her favourite place, the large picture window in her living room. She continued to ask questions so I took many images in an attempt to get the ones I really wanted.

Mum was getting tired, so I had her sit every once in a while, every second that passed changed the available lighting dramatically.

I decided later to go outside and capture mum in her window, as she can often be seen by the neighbours looking out.

I mixed some more portrait shots of my mum in with the last. OOPS. The last shot was a dramatic silhouette of mum.

Prakel, D. (2007). Lighting. Lausanne, Switzerland: AVA, pp.56-70. (Prakel, 2007)

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Mansurov, N. (2019). What is Lens Distortion?. [online] Photographylife.com. Available at: https://photographylife.com/what-is-distortion [Accessed 4 Oct. 2019]. (Mansurov, 2019)

Hull, C. and >, M. (2019). What Is the Best Lens for Portraits? | Photography Equipment. [online] ExpertPhotography. Available at: https://expertphotography.com/best-lens-for-portraits/ [Accessed 30 Sep. 2019]. (Hull and >, 2019)

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Cambridgeincolour.com. (2019). Making the Most of Natural Light in Photography. [online] Available at: https://www.cambridgeincolour.com/tutorials/natural-light-photography.htm [Accessed 15 Sep. 2019]. (Cambridgeincolour.com, 2019)

Neirynck, F. (2019). Henri Cartier-Bresson (1908 – 2004) | Le Couperet. [online] Lecouperet.net. Available at: http://www.lecouperet.net/hcb/en/portraits-by-hcb [Accessed 15 Sep. 2019]. (Neirynck, 2019)

Ipoxstudios.com. (2019). You are being redirected.... [online] Available at: https://ipoxstudios.com/proof-that-henri-cartier-bresson-used-dynamic-symmetry-in-photography-4k-video/ [Accessed 15 Sep. 2019].

Photographers, A., Books, p. and Hours, O. (2019). Age of Silver: Encounters with Great Photographers | powerHouse Books. [online] Powerhousebooks.com. Available at: http://www.powerhousebooks.com/books/age-of-silver-encounters-with-great-photographers/ [Accessed 5 Oct. 2019]. (Photographers, Books and Hours, 2019)

Huxley-Parlour Gallery. (2019). Henri Cartier-Bresson | Photographer's Biography & Art Works | Huxley-Parlour Gallery. [online] Available at: https://huxleyparlour.com/artists/henri-cartier-bresson/ [Accessed 5 Oct. 2019]. (Huxley-Parlour Gallery, 2019)

Johnloengard.com. (2019). John Loengard – Photographs. [online] Available at: https://johnloengard.com/ [Accessed 5 Oct. 2019]. (Johnloengard.com, 2019)

Time. (2019). https://time.com. [online] Available at: https://time.com/3491091/georgia-okeeffe-invincible/ [Accessed 15 Sep. 2019].

Sarkar, G., Kosa, M. and Sarkar, S. (2019). Stanislav Puchkovsky (Sean Archer) - Incredible Portrait Photographer from Russia - 121Clicks.com. [online] 121clicks.com. Available at: https://121clicks.com/showcases/stanislav-puchkovsky-sean-archer-incredible-portrait-photographer-from-russia [Accessed 13 Sep. 2019].

Archer, S. (2019). Sean Archer on Fstoppers. [online] Fstoppers. Available at: https://fstoppers.com/profile/37142 [Accessed 15 Sep. 2019].

Diamond, D. (2019). Stanislav Puchkovsky (aka Sean Archer) is a Master of Natural Light Portraits. [online] Fstoppers. Available at: https://fstoppers.com/bts/stanislav-puchkovsky-aka-sean-archer-master-natural-light-portraits-9584 [Accessed 13 Sep. 2019].

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Artsy.net. (2019). Alfred Eisenstaedt: Portraits of the Past | Robert Mann Gallery | Artsy. [online] Available at: https://www.artsy.net/show/robert-mann-gallery-alfred-eisenstaedt-portraits-of-the-past [Accessed 30 Sep. 2019]. (Artsy.net, 2019)

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Digital-photo-secrets.com. (2019). What in the heck is that thing for? A photographer's guide to using the black flag :: Digital Photo Secrets. [online] Available at: https://www.digital-photo-secrets.com/tip/6721/guide-using-black-flag/ [Accessed 15 Sep. 2019].

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Ghionis, J. (2019). How to Perfect Natural Light with a Collapsible Diffuser feat. Jerry Ghionis. [online] Westcott University. Available at: https://westcottu.com/using-the-omega-reflector-as-a-diffuser [Accessed 15 Sep. 2019].

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[lefaystrent]

Variants ch.2

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: none

Summary:  Patton was surprised by the mutant robbing the jewelry store one night. It was a “right time, right place” circumstance for Patton in that he happened to be there to see them break into the store. And by break in, he meant that they seeped into shadows and appeared on the other side of the windows without breaking anything at all. 

Chapter Navigation: one

AO3 Link

“Well this isn’t ideal,” Logan muttered to himself before ducking at another gunshot.

Yes he was being shot at. No this was not according to plan.

If he had the option, Logan would simply use his powers to shove the dumpster he hid behind down the alley and at the angry drug dealers currently shooting at him. There was just one problem.

He didn’t have his glasses.

Telekinesis was certainly a useful and powerful ability, when one could see what and where to move things in the first place.

“Wonderful,” Logan growled to himself. “My greatest weakness: the Velma complex. I should reconsider my thoughts on investing in contact lenses no matter how repulsive the idea is. Then again, it is perfectly suitable for one to be squeamish about foreign objects touching their eyeballs, but I digress. Contacts would not be able to be knocked off so easily from one’s face, and with them one would be able to see where to aim a dumpster at. But jinkies, I’ve lost my glasses. And would you hoodlums stop shooting at me! I am trying to rant, please and thank you.”

“Get out here mutant freak!” one of the shooters yelled from the mouth of the alley.

Logan’s eye twitched. “How polite of you.”

With no other options available and Logan’s patience snapped, he chunked the dumpster down the alley anyway. It would leave him exposed for more time than he was comfortable with, but hopefully his pursuers would be distracted long enough for him to run deeper into the alley system and lose them. Also, for lack of a better term, fuck it.

Logan sprinted at full speed, the sound of gunfire blasting into the night once more. Luckily, he rounded a corner without any bullets hitting him. Beyond the huffing of his breath he could hear the pounding of footsteps following behind.

Objectively, the situation was not good. Logan’s heart thrashed so erratically in his chest at the thought that he might just die here. Adrenaline worked overtime to keep him going, but the world had been reduced to a dark blur and his breaths hitched painfully sharp in his throat.

Logan rounded a corner, scrambling against the brick wall he nearly face-planted into. He picked up the pace when he saw that the end of this particular alley led to somewhere lighter, presumably a street. It’d be more out in the open, giving the gun-wielding criminals the advantage, but there was no going back now.

The yells and pounding steps behind him never stopped. The muscles in his legs burned and threatened to cripple him. Logan cursed himself for not practicing cardio more.

As he reached the mouth of the alley, Logan tripped on something, and next his palms were skinning against the harsh surface of concrete to minimize the damage of his fall. On instinct, Logan rolled over onto his back, ready to use his powers on anything that so much as approached him.

But that’s the thing. Nothing happened.

Over the roaring in his ears and his ragged breathing, Logan squinted at the mass of shadows in the alley, unable to make out anything, sight or sound. There were no more yells, no more gun fire.

Any moment now, one of them would jump out to kill him. He couldn’t let his guard down. His body tensed, a live wire ready to spring into action. All of his senses screamed at him that any second now . . .

Any second . . .

Logan cautiously sat up, gaze never straying from the alley. He didn’t dare hope for a second that his pursuers suddenly lost interest and called off the chase. And the longer he sat there, the more he realized the possibility of a surprise attack from them was also unlikely, given their noisy chase. If anything, they would have ran out and shot him dead.

The fact that Logan wasn’t dead right now meant that something must have gotten to them first.

“Hello?” a voice called out from the alley.

Immediately Logan stiffened. His mind buzzed frantically from thought to thought, unable to settle on anything concise. All he could do was wait until something happened.

“Is that you, Logan?” the voice spoke again, coming closer.

The buzzing in his head stopped. That was his name. This person knew his name.

Friend?

Or foe . . .

A figure finally emerged, completely unrecognizable except that his shape was vaguely human. And tall, much too tall-looking from where Logan sat vulnerably on the ground.

He was half a second away from letting his self-preservation win out and throw this person with his powers, but they said carefully, “Hey, it’s me, Patton, remember?” and the world stopped.

“Patton?” Logan blurted.

The jewelry store. The reaper. The bespectacled man who rode in his car, the one with kindness in his eyes that nearly hid the cleverness underneath.

“It’s really me, kiddo,” came Patton’s reassuring reply. “Guess it’s a small world after all.”

Logan barked out a laugh, caught up in both relief and bemusement. He wanted to flop backwards in an exhausted heap, but he had to know. “My pursuers? What about them?”

“The bad guys with the guns? Oh, I gave them a time-out! Firearms are serious business, and they didn’t even have any carrying permits!”

Logan stared at him incredulously. “You took the time to rifle through their pockets to confirm that?”

Patton’s hands flew up to his mouth in a gasp. “Did you just make a pun?”

“What? No, I mean, at least not intentionally.”

“Well shoot, it sure did seem like it.”

Logan really did flop on his back this time. “I just nearly died and you’re partaking in the lowest form of comedy. Unbelievable.”

Patton leaned over him. This close, Logan could discern an apologetic smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m just glad I managed to cut them off in time.” He held out a hand in offer.

Logan took it and was on his feet quicker than he thought he’d be. Patton steadied him. “Your assistance is appreciated. When you say ‘cut them off’, by that you mean . . .?”

“I uh . . . kinda knocked them out? Don’t worry though! They should be okay after a while. It’s just that I heard the gunfire and came running, and when I saw them chasing someone down I knew I had to act fast.”

“Wait, so you just happened to be in the area?” Logan asked, because surely not . . .

“How else would I have known to come help?” Patton responded, eyes bright with a sincerity that Logan didn’t doubt. While Logan was beside himself processing this, Patton busied himself checking Logan over for injuries. He still had hold of his arms and turned his hands over, palms up. “Logan! Your hands, you’re hurt!”

“Just scratches,” Logan murmured absently.

For days on end, Logan had been tracking down the drug dealers, surveying where they operated, finding them to work out of a shabby motel downtown. And here Patton had just been in the right place at the right time?

Of all the odds . . .

“Patton,” Logan cut him off mid-ramble. Patton trailed off and looked at Logan questioningly, worryingly, his eyes warm in the glow of the street lamp.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he stated.

“Indeed. We need to get out of here. Did you happen to drive here, by chance?”

Logan had parked too close to the motel. He had intended to make a quick getaway after putting a stop to the drug dealers. Now it would be a risk to return to it in the event that the authorities had been alerted and were already there (which was highly likely, with that much gunfire giving them away). Thankfully, Patton had parked some streets down in the opposite direction.

“But what about your car?” Patton asked him as they walked at a brisk pace.

“I’ll have to come back for it at another time, when things have quieted.” Logan only hoped that it wouldn’t be broken into or stolen until then. “In the meantime, I shall find alternative transportation to get around.”

“If you think that’s best . . .” Patton conceded reluctantly.

They were traversing through a neighborhood of apartment buildings and homes now. A couple of them had lights on inside, but most were silent and the only other sign of life the two saw was a passing truck.

“So what happened back there?” Patton asked, filling in the silence. “Are you really okay, Logan?”

“Rest assured, I am not injured.” Logan winced after saying that. Now that the adrenaline was easing off, he could feel a throbbing in his head. “Mostly, at least. I had planned to confront those criminals in the motel room that they were running drug deals out of. What I did not account for was the motel manager being involved. They snuck up behind me, distracting me enough that one of them threw something at my head, knocking my glasses off. I could not locate them before I was forced to . . . before I initiated a tactical retreat.”

“You mean ran away?”

Logan scowled and coughed. “While not completely inaccurate, I believe the way I phrased it has better connotations.”

“It’s okay. People waving around guns can be scary,” Patton said, and the way he smiled reminded Logan that he was walking beside someone who probably had worse experiences than what he had faced tonight. With his cheery disposition and his deplorable love of puns, Logan had almost forgotten that Patton was a veteran.

“Quite,” Logan agreed. Curiosity lingered, imploring him to ask Patton about his service time, but he refrained. It would be intrusive.

Resisting temptation, he automatically went to straighten his tie only to drop his hands. While his current attire was more suitable for crime-fighting, he would rather be in his usual business-casual wear than a hoodie and jeans.

He cleared his throat again. “Though your assistance has been most useful tonight, I would typically have been fine managing on my own, if not for my lack of glasses.”

“Wowzers, that must be tough. I can’t even imagine not being able to see well enough to get around.”

Logan looked at him in deep confusion. “What are you talking about? We’re the same, or even if you are closer to twenty-twenty than I am, we are still in a similar state.”

Patton just stared at him with a ‘huh?’ expression, completely lost. Surely he was joking.

“Patton, you wear corrective lenses the same as I do. Therefore, it should not be all that hard to imagine yourself in my situation.”

It dawned on him slowly, the dots connecting one by one. Patton stopped walking and blinked at nothing, eyes wide. Then in a flurry of over-dramatic gestures, he laughed and talked fast. “Oh right! Completely forgot there for a sec, so used to wearing my glasses. Yep, can’t see a thing without them!”

Logan said nothing, but he couldn’t shake the distinct notion that Patton was lying. It would be an innocuous thing to lie about, so why would he? And yet, it reminded Logan of that night they first met when Patton denied being a mutant. There was something about his mannerisms, a vague thing that Logan loathed himself for not being able to pin down. He worked best with concrete evidence, but he couldn’t deny that Patton struck a familiar cord in him.

After all, when Logan wasn’t out patrolling the city at night, he pretended to be an ordinary citizen as well.

The two vigilantes made it out intact that night. To be sure that the police located the drug dealers left in the alley, Logan phoned in an anonymous tip. Patton gave him a ride home. More than that, he gave him his number.

“It’s good to have friends at your back, and we make a good team. Don’t ya think?” Patton offered with a wink and a smile.

They weren’t friends. Not really. Allies would be a closer term to what they truly were. And in this line of business, even those could be a liability.

Then again, if he learned anything that night, his own shortcomings could leave him at risk. And he’d rather not experience such a blind panic ever again.

Patton’s number found a place in his contact list. Logan told himself that this would be the alternative to contact lenses.

Weeks went by, crime in the city ensued, and Logan and Patton faced it together more often than not. As Patton had said before, they did indeed make a good team. While Logan had a knack for tactics, Patton was startlingly adept at reading people. More than once Logan had watched him disarm people by words alone.

“Do you have powers of persuasion?” Logan asked at one point.

Patton laughed as if he had told a good joke. “No, I’m just a dad.”

It frustrated Logan. Because for one, Patton had no biological children to speak of. For another, Patton’s true power continued to elude Logan, leaving nothing but inklings for him to trail clumsily after. When he had initially begun crime fighting, it had been out of a strong sense of justice and the ability to do something about it. Nowadays, Logan chased after the mystery Patton presented for him. If he paid attention, he’d notice when Patton slipped up.

When the time came, it wasn’t so much that Patton slipped up.

Logan had been grocery shopping when it happened. He perused the fresh produce, almost absently answering his phone.

“Logan!” Patton said before he had a chance to greet him. It had only been one word, but it was hurried and frantic.

The produce immediately lost all his attention. This was more important. “What’s wrong, Patton?”

“Hartview Bridge, possible bombing, too far away to confirm yet. I’m almost there, where are you?”

A . . . terrorist attack? Patton sounded as if he were running, running straight to the potential terrorist attack. There had been a potential terrorist attack and Logan just stood there, staring at zucchini, wondering where he fit into all this.

Still processing, Logan answered mechanically, “I’m at the grocery, the Miller’s Fresh Foods on Second Street.”

“Good, that’s not too far. Hurry, Logan.”

Logan shook his head, brows furrowed. “Why? What can we do? It’s the middle of the day. Surely the proper authorities are already handling it. We would just out ourselves—”

“Oh my God,” Patton gasped, cutting him off. Logan knew that it wasn’t because of what he had been saying. Ice prickled in his stomach.

“Patton? Patton, what happened?”

“It’s collapsed, the bridge, I see it,” he responded, voice thick with emotion. “Parts are still collapsing, they’re falling in—”

A rush of background noise filtered through. Then the line went dead.

Logan abandoned his shopping cart without a second thought and booked it to his car. He didn’t even put on his seat belt. He floored it through traffic. Any cops that would have pulled him over for speeding were already speeding themselves. But closer to the river where the bridge crossed, a wall of traffic halted any more progress. Logan couldn’t see much from here, but other people were getting out of their vehicles or running down the sidewalk, some away and some towards the bridge. Logan jumped out as well.

The sun was shining bright, not a cloud in the sky, mocking in its ideality. There were people everywhere, many of them pulling out their phones to record the chaos. There would be nowhere to hide here, not like he was used to during his nightly patrols.

But Patton was up there, and if he waited any longer the police would section off the entrance in a security perimeter.

Pedestrians either ducked out of his way or were pushed through. Logan didn’t have time for politeness. As he neared the bridge, he could see where vehicles had crashed into each other, some of them toppled, some on fire, creating a mess of mazes and barriers. Up towards the halfway point, the overarching steel beams had collapsed where the bridge caved in, making the structure look as if a giant hand had smashed down through the center.

Logan didn’t realize he had stopped running to take it all in. He’d never seen such chaos and destruction. Smoke filled the air and people ran past him in various states of injured. He swallowed roughly, forcing himself to stay composed.

Muffled yelling broke through to him. Nearby, a damaged car sat. The driver’s side door was bent from some form of impact (a collision with another vehicle?), and the woman behind the window beat frantically to get his attention.

Logan ran over to it, stumbling over debris. He tried the handle, but the door was too damaged.

He cursed. Now that he was here, there was no choice.

“Lean back!” he yelled to her so that she could hear him. She did as told, too scared to do otherwise.

It would be too risky to mess with the glass. Logan held his hands up, focusing on the seam of metal where it should open. A wave of blue-green energy washed over it. He balled his glowing hand into a fist and yanked with all his might, forcing the door to open, almost tearing it from its hinges. The woman screamed, covering her face with her right arm. The left one was held against her as if hurt.

“Can you walk?” Logan asked, willing away the light from his eyes so as not to scare her further. She looked at him, shakily nodding. “Good. Here—”

He helped her stand, and once she had her feet under her, she gave him a watery smile. “Thank you,” she said before fleeing as fast as she could off the bridge.

Logan picked his way through the wreckage, yelling for Patton when he could but becoming quickly distracted each time his help was needed. A group of people were trying to move rubble off an unconscious man. Logan moved it with his powers. A car exploding sent shrapnel flying. Logan sent a wave of force to push someone down before they could be decapitated, and at the same time he caught a child before they fell through the bridge’s broken railing to the river below. One of the steel arches above groaned and snapped with a horrible shudder. Logan threw up his hands, wrapping the broken beam in light. The weight of it proved to be too much, but he managed to slow its heavy descent enough and maneuver it to fall safely.

One thing after the other, Logan saved whoever he could and prevented further injury when possible. Surprisingly, the first responders neither feared nor stopped him. In fact, they grasped that he was there to help and soon were directing him to where he was needed next. At one point, a firefighter hopped onto the bed of a truck, waving his arms to get his attention.

“Over here! Mutant guy, over here!” he yelled, and Logan followed. He had been gravitating towards the middle of the bridge all this time, where a sizeable chunk had caved in and nothing but empty space lingered. For the first time, Logan got an unobscured view of it.

The road ended in an abrupt jagged edge, pieces of it still crumbling off. On the other side of the gap, there was just as much disorder and people trying to survive.

“LOGAN!” a voice screamed, jarring him out of his shock.

He looked to his right where a city bus had plowed through the railing. The length of it was almost entirely over the edge, the back of it held up only by Patton himself. He gripped it underneath and somehow kept it from tipping over. His biceps bulged from the effort. Patton’s feet dug into the ground, leaving behind warped tracks as he was pulled forward minutely.

Patton’s glasses were cracked and a line of blood seeped down his face from a cut on his temple. His eyes were pleading. “I can’t hold it.”

However strong Patton truly was (and it was now apparent that it was supernatural), he couldn’t pull the bus up.

Surging into action, Logan held up his hands. His telekinesis, while strong enough to lift a dumpster, couldn’t lift something as heavy as a bus. Not alone, that is. With his powers and Patton’s superior strength, they managed to pull the bus backwards, inch by painful inch, until all of its wheels sat on a stable surface. The first responders dove in after that, helping people off the bus and escorting them to safety.

Both he and Patton were panting from their combined effort, hands on knees bent over as they tried to catch their breaths.

“Not a mutant, huh?” Logan gasped out.

Patton sent him a tired glare. “Lo . . . shut your ever-flapping gob smacker.”

Logan snorted, but agreed that now wasn’t really the time to have this conversation. Not with people dying and everyone starting to look to them for answers.

“Oh, would ya look at that bird,” Patton commented, and Logan stood up straight to see a helicopter hovering in the near distance. A news helicopter, filming everything including them.

He groaned. “You do realize that we’ll never be able to return to our regular lives now, don’t you?”

Patton pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside carelessly. He didn’t squint after, proving that he never truly needed them. He stood there proudly, hands on hips and back straight.

“It’s a little scary, isn’t it?” he grinned, bumping shoulders with Logan. “But I don’t regret it. How ‘bout you, partner?”

“I regret many things,” Logan deadpanned, making the other laugh.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton clapped him on the back. “Handle things on this side, okay kiddo? They look like they could use some help over there.”

“What do you . . .” Logan began in confusion before Patton performed a running leap over the broken gap, launching himself high into the air before landing safely on the other side.

Logan adjusted his tie, disgruntled.

“Incredible. He calls me ‘kiddo’ and then proceeds to yeet himself over a broken bridge. I am a grown man, you know.”

He turned away to get back to work.

tag list: @spectralheartt @a-pastel-pan @merlybird500 @mirror2thespirit (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list) 

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost

Princess Solaria: Fairy Lost (part 02) Winx Pilot Episode AU Bloom turns a corner and heads to the beach, Stella deals with the fall out.

Previously: 01-Clean/TW

Streets of your town

Gardenia : Earth

Stella was a princess, and she'd be the first to tell you that she was used to the finer things in life, and getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

But being a princess also came with certain types of training, including how to deal with being kidnapped, and while Stella wasn't currently in the clutches of of abductors, she had certainly been kidnapped.

She had to prioritise, she needed to get in contact with her people, find a way to get home, or to Alfea, but all of those things would need magic.

So she needed to recharge, which would be easier if the sun was up, but for now, moonlight would have to do. She'd need food, hydration, somewhere to get a good nights rest.

She could rough it, but that wouldn't be safe, she needed to find somewhere safe.

She needed more information, and she needed to speak the language.

And she needed a map, because she was fairly certain she'd passed that road sign three times already. But the written language of this world was strange so she could have be wrong.

Roxy eyed the ginger haired girl sitting at the booth, she'd been there for almost an hour, people watching. The girl also hadn't ordered anything more than a water, though Roxy thought that might have been because the girl spoke very little English.

Still...

“Hey,” the girl's eyes darted to her, alarm written across her face, before being smoothed off for a friendly, somewhat air-headed look. “Look, I'm sorry but, you either need to order something or leave, I-”

A guilty look, followed by worry. At least the girl understood English well enough to understand what Roxy was telling her.

“I am... sorry.” The girl's accent was better than it had been when she arrived. Way better. “I am... not having money. I am... being lost.”

“Well, have you tired going to the police?” Another wave of confusion passed over the girl's face, then clarity and fear.

“Already it is tried, they calling of the bad men.” Roxy's brow scrunched, her mind turning over what she'd learned. Looking closer at the girl, Roxy could see a bruise peaking over the collar of her long-sleeved shirt.

She sighed deeply, “I'll tell you what, we have to throw out some of the desserts at set intervals, it a freshness-health and safety thing, they're actually good for a half hour after the limit. How about next time I clear the snack trays, I send a few your way. On me.”

The briefest flicker of distaste crossed the girl's face, but it was chased away by a look of such gratitude that Roxy couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed.

The girl took her hand delicately and smiled, “all gratitude... thank you.”

As Roxy neared the bar, she saw a pair of men in dark suits talking to her father. Grabbing one of the juice mixes behind the bar to get close enough to hear, Roxy dropped a few eaves. The guys dressed like they were in the MIB were looking for a young woman who'd disappeared from the nearby hospital. The girl was mentally unstable and posed a danger to others.

Allegedly.

“Stella?” Stella froze, “stay casual, two suits at the bar, just act normal, they should leave soon. In the meantime, here are your eat-em-sooner-than-later desserts. And some more water.”

Stella watched the girl with the magenta and blonde ombré as she refilled the cup. The girl (Roxy according to her name badge... maybe?) genuinely seemed to want to help Stella out. But whether purely out of the goodness of her own heart, or some ulterior motive, remained to be seen.

Stella wanted to believe, but if the suits were here already...

“Thank you,” Roxy smiled at the thanks.

“No worries, if I thought you were what they said it might be a different story but... those guys are ringing all the alarms, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

“I thought I was imagining it, but your accent gets better every time I come over here.”

Stella ducked her head at the praise, “I am learning,” she tapped her ear and gestured around the room, at the multitude of people and their conversations.

“Huh,” Roxy seemed shocked and impressed. “Well, you keep it up. I have to go wait a few more tables.”

Stella watched the girl walk away for a minute before turning to her food, it looked like fruit sundaes. The fructose would be a big help regenerating her power, but carbs would have been better. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and Stella was lucky to have gotten this much.

With food seen to for the time being Stella could focus on other things, she still needed a safe place to sleep, but she didn't want to impose on Roxy's good will much further.

In her travels thus far, Stella still hadn't been able to figure out what world she was on, but she had come to the disturbing conclusion this world had no magical beings. She'd yet to see anyone do anything that wasn't explainable by strictly technological capabilities, and she'd felt no traces of magic either. Granter her own abilities were currently very lacking, but she still should have been able to feel something.

At least she wouldn't have to worry too much about hygiene. The beach had several shower blocks for beach goers, Stella had enough power to pull out her her cases and toiletries bag a few times with out getting winded. By the time she'd need them, she estimated she would have regenerated enough to not have to worry about the magical cost.

Of course, she'd rather focus on healing, but as long as she focused her healing on the more prominent injuries, she could spare a little of her magic for other things.

She'd also need money, but she had an idea about that, she'd just need to ask Roxy if she knew of any pawn stores in the area. As much as it pained Stella to part with her things, she had plenty of gold jewellery in her jewellery box, and gold, being a heavy metal, was valuable on every planet.

Heaving a sigh, Stella slipped her fingers under the arms of her clear-lensed sunglasses, and rubbed her temples.

She'd spent so long denying this part of herself, drawing the identity of air-headed fashionista around herself like armour so people would like her, and stop teasing her, and it was her intellect and planning capabilities that were going to save her.

There was a word for this, Stella was sure.

Roxy had to check the computer in the backroom to find a pawn store that was open all night in Gardenia, and she'd printed off a map while she there for Stella to follow, for which the temporary ginger was very grateful.

Walking to the store had taken almost two hours, by which time the pre-dawn chill had begun, causing Stella to shiver, and duck into an alley to pull out a jacket from her stored suitcases. From what she'd learned from the helpful waitress, the city she was now in, Gardenia, was in the early stages of summer. If the day before, and the night which was nearing its end were any indication, summers on this world, or at least this part of it, were much cooler than summers on Solaria.

Walking through the dark city had set her paranoia to overdrive. Every shadow was a ghoul looking to pounce, every passing vehicle was the men in suits.

When she finally made it to the store, Stella was well and truly missing home.

Double checking the name on the storefront and the name on her paper, Stella knocked on the night hours window.

A moment later a man appeared on the other side of the glass.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” he gave her a friendly smile.

“Uhm, do you buy jewellery?”

“We do, have you got some for me?”

“I have a few pieces.” The man opened a tray slot at the bottom of the window and indicated for Stella to put her items in. She dropped three rings in the tray.

“Wow, these look great, do you know anything about them?”

“I do,” Stella smiled and gave the man the specifications of the rings, the gold, the stones, all the carats (and karats), internally sighing with relief as the Universal Translation Spell managed all the terms.

The man listened as he examined all the rings, finally he pulled out a notepad and a calculator and calculated some values. When he gave her the price he was willing to offer, she raised a brow and stared him dead in the eye.

“And is that the best offer you can give me based on the value of the rings.”

“Absolutely,” he gave her a nod, and Stella relaxed, he hadn't done the little thing she noticed people did when she gave them that look, so the man was either a better liar than anyone she had ever met, or he was telling the truth.

Or the locals were the biological exception and none of them did the thing.

“Well alright then, I'll trust you on this, because I know how much those are worth back home, but I'm still learning the local currency value.”

“Don't worry, I wouldn't try to rip off my customers, that's bad for business. Now, do you want to come inside and sign the paperwork?”

“Paperwork?”

“Just to prove the transaction took place,” Stella hadn't thought of that, nodding, she moved to the door and waited to be let in, trying not to let her paranoia tell her it was a trap. “Do you want payment in cash or credit?”

“Cash,” Stella said, sitting at the table he showed her to. Filling out the paperwork was a little tricky, the UTS still having a little trouble with the written version of the language, but the man, who introduced himself as Rick, helped to walk her through it.

When it asked for a name of the seller, she paused. Roxy had known her name because the suits had known her name, likely because Stella had managed to swap names with one of the nurses at the hospital.

The suits would definitely be looking for her under her own name, plus she noticed people here seemed to have more than one name. She thought it might have been a bloodline thing, but she wasn't sure.

Picking two random queens of Solaria past, Stella signed the paper -

Elaine Thea

- and the sale was done.

Accepting the cash, Stella put almost all of it straight into a purse in carry space, leaving a hundred dollars in the purse in her physical pocket.

She just hoped the money would be enough to survive in this strange world until she could contact home.

As the sun rose over Gardenia, Stella sat at a cafe table, shovelling a forkful of eggs into her mouth with an appreciative hum. They were soft and buttery and warm.

As a princess, she'd never wanted for anything (material) in her life, and she knew that she'd only spent one night 'doing it rough,' but she had a new found appreciation for everything in her life. For several long hours, she'd had nothing, not even hope. She couldn't imagine (didn't want to imagine) what would have happened if not for the kindness of Roxy, or Meg, the nurse who'd blocked the men in suits, or Rick in the pawn shop.

She had food and drink and sunshine, her magic was replenishing itself, though it would take longer than normal, as most of the magic was being siphoned off to heal her injuries. All she needed now was somewhere to sleep safely, and work on getting in contact with her people.

How did non-royals go about securing housing? Her accommodations had always been acquired for her.

At a different table, plates clacked together as the waitress who'd brought Stella her breakfast plate, began clearing another diner's meal away.

'Well,' Stella thought, sipping her juice, 'can't hurt to ask.'

The Mall was still mostly deserted when Stella arrived, helpfully drawn map-on-a-napkin in hand. As Stella wandered through the mall, trying to find the Realtor the waitress, Sandra, had said was there, she began to feel nervous.

So far, barring the incident with the ogre, her luck had been good. But Stella was the Fairy of the Shining Sun and Radiant Moon, not the Fairy of Good Luck, her luck wasn't guaranteed to hold. She couldn't trust everyone on this world to be as compassionate as those that had helped her, the Men in Suits were proof of that.

Spotting the sign for Gardenia Realty, Stella shook off her gloom, telling herself she'd be fine, she headed in.

There was a single person inside, seated behind a neat desk.

“Good morning, how can I help you?” The woman grinned, white-white teeth behind shocking red lipstick. Stella plastered on a return smile before answering.

“Hi, um, bit embarrassing actually, I was supposed to move here for work, only I got here yesterday and: surprise! The apartment my work had, allegedly, rented for me was in use by someone else, so now I'm here and I have nowhere to stay, and not a lot of allowance for an apartment. Think you can help?”

The woman looked aghast, “I hope your company didn't rent the apartment through us?”

“NO, no, you were actually suggested by a local,” Stella said, waving her hand to dismiss the possibility.

“Oh good, I would hate for one of my team to be responsible for putting you out like that. Now, we have several apartments at the moment, we can start with the cheapest, unfortunately they are all per month contracts, so starting price is around eight hundred dollars per.”

“That... would work, but, uh, I was told to make a cash payment for my first rent when I got here, so my boss said to use the cash from that?”

“Cash payments are no problem, were you looking for any particular area of the city?”

“At the moment I'm ready to take what I can get, where ever I can get, as long as it's clean and secure.”

By early afternoon, Stella had a short list of three apartments of the seven she'd visited with the Realtor, Yvonne. As the two young women sat in Yvonne's car, Stella looked over the paperwork for the three on the short list.

“I think...” Stella put down one set of paper, eyes darting back and forth between the last two, “this one.” The one she'd chosen was not the cheapest on the list, nor the fanciest, or the best either, but it did have large windows that let in plenty of sunlight, and the price was on the lower end of the scale.

It also came partially furnished with a bed, a couch and a television. Also some electronic goods like an oven and a washing machine, which Stella doubted she'd use.

Plus it was nice and close to a shopping centre, which was always a bonus in Stella's book.

The sun was setting when Stella finally walked into her new apartment – or rather, Elaine Thea's new apartment – grocery bag in arms, loaded with 'instant' meals and a few toiletries.

She'd had to use an annoyingly large chunk of her annoyingly limited reservoir of recovered magic in order to cast a glamour over her old student ID. It had been a fake-ID spell she'd used a few times for the clubs in Magix, changing what was there into what needed to be there.

Tricky and tiring, but worth it.

Shoving most of her meals into the fridge, Stella began poking at the microwave, heating up the few meals she'd left out. It was kind of amazing to her in a way, how a world so cut off from the rest of the galaxy, had such similar (if archaic) technology.

While her heat-and-eats began heating, she wrestled with the remote control, turning the television on after only a minute of button pressing.

She flicked through channel after channel, but none of them seemed to be airing the news. With a frustrated huff, she threw the remote lightly onto the couch and stalked back to the kitchen to retrieve her food, the TV's audio filling the silent room.

'Honestly,' Stella opened her meal packet with more aggression than necessary, 'how am I supposed to gather information about my current environment if there's no news channel?!'

She speared a pathetic looking bean with her plastic fork, and then without reason, kept stabbing at the tray, a frustrated, strangled growl tearing itself from her throat. She slammed the fork down and rubbed at her eyes as hot tears began spilling down her cheeks.

Alone in the safety of her apartment, Stella finally allowed herself to feel the reality of her situation, and she wept.

Alfea : Magix

“Faragonda?”

“Griselda, come in,” The headmistress resettled her glasses as her friend entered her office, “I know that look, who's already asking for expulsion?” the white haired fairy's lips twitched into a smile, a feeling of dread overshadowing her mirth when Griselda didn't immediately start ranting.

“Princess Stella of Solaria and Princess Varanda of Callisto didn't sign in, I can't find any sign of them and I made it very clear to princess Stella that she was to arrive on time. She's still in trouble from her escapades last year.”

“I see,” Faragonda frowned, reaching for her crystal ball, “I'll contact Solaria and find out whether there was any delay on their end.”

AO3   Part 03

[endkrp-blog]

                                                     GUEST FILE.

                                                         name    yoon ilsung *                                                          d.o.b    12/30/1991 (25)                                                          occupation    con artist                                                          room    404

                                                             welcome to the end.                                                                 kindest regards.

— first, we inquire: why?

 Criminal activity leads to interesting places. Especially when one is forced to look for those.

 It was three in the morning when he stirred in his sleep, an annoyingly melodic siren seeping though the walls and surrounding him. When Jaesub‘s eyes came to focus, his mind was still thirty meters behind – ‘sleeping in a club is much more comfortable than I remember’. His droopy eyes, glazed with stupidity that only the sleep-deprived share, were chasing the red and blue flashes of the “disco lights” that were waltzing around the room, elegantly following the repetitive high-pitched sound. Until his mind snapped out of the dream-like state and Jaesub realized that the walls in the club were too much like the ones in the house he lived in. Also, that almost no club allowed his level of nudity.

Jaesub barely got his pants on as he was jumping out the window before the men in uniforms could ungracefully kick his front door open and handcuff him in a rather barbaric manner for the 21st century.

 The petty survival bag (that‘s how he called the bag he kept all the money and jewelry he stole from naive and obedient lambs) hung low on his shoulder, as Jaesub locked himself in a bathroom of a gas station, mind frying trying to think of considerable options of where to go. One neon hair colour and unnatural contact lenses later, his chain of thoughts led to the conclusion that having home records under the fake names he hid himself behind didn’t seem to be working anymore. The less proof of his existence and ownership, the better.

 Unless he wanted to stop the riveting game of leeching off of the unsuspecting upper class people and start living under his own name.

 The thought made him laugh.

 As if.

 That‘s how Jaesub ended up in the furthest corner of the country he could think of. Isolation was something he needed until the talk about him died down in the police stations and he could come back to the secluded corners of Seoul to gather information and look for yet another ungodly rich person he could rip off. Or at least that‘s what he thought before checking into a hotel he kept seeing in flyers around the island of Jeju he found himself in. Over his time in The End, Jaesub learned that somehow the surroundings of the Grand Hotel made the upper class feel too safe for their own good. Or at least it seemed like it, since the role of Ilsung, the failed singer whose eyes were still wide and full of naive, childlike love for the world, seemed to hypnotize them. The rich allowed the romantic musician in, trusting him. After meeting him, they seemed to live in the illusion of great altruism, as they offered him their support in forms of money and jewels.

 Jaeseb‘s game seemed to be working in his favour for almost a year. He had a never ending money source, food was always served, his room was always clean. Why in the world would he leave?

— then, we wonder: what?

Jaesub chose The End while looking for a secluded and an inconspicuous enough place to hide from the trivial human form of justice. Therefore, his main focus in the hotel is not to deviate from the fake sickeningly romanticist and gullible persona he created and live off of what the Grand Hotel can offer. Guests included.

 As of right now, he is running on relatively low funds. The bag that he kept well hidden was still full enough to keep him stable for at least six to eight months, though that is not good enough for the scammer. Jaesub‘s honey tongue that came along with the character of Ilsung had to be put to action - he is trying to sweet-talk his way into the heads of the current guests that live on the higher floors of the hotel. He doesn’t care that much about the consequences of his sweet talking; the nature of the relationships that developed on the base of his innocent tone and syrupy words does not bother him. Hatred, friendship, romance – all is good as long as he gets access to their overpriced belongings or bank accounts in which the balance numbers are separated by multiple commas.

 The idea is to survive. And whatever comes along with it he will welcome with open hands. Because even if he lacked the feeling of guilt, just like any other human being, he craved attention and company.

— finally, we demand: who?

 Nothing that I can think of fully describes who he his. I think for most part the closet connection that I found to Ilsung was the song “Mensware” by the 1975. Not lyric-wise but mostly because of the stages of it - the way sounds stack one onto the other. During the evolving process, the song does not become heavy, it stays light and afloat. In a way it inspired the character of Ilsung, a.k.a. the hotel Jaesub.

 Jaesub‘s main focus when he ran away from Seoul was to create someone who people would take pity in without giving it much thought. Who else would fit better than a outcast musician? Therefore, he entered The End with a skeleton idea – a reject singer. As time passed, he dressed the skeleton in robes and jewelry, adding more and more to the fake persona: a dreamer, crazily optimistic, romantic, open-hearted, naive, a little bit like a child. Someone easily lovable and trustworthy. The innocence of Ilsung determined that he was one of Jaesub‘s most complicated characters - somewhat like a positivism bomb, giving off this light, dream-like vibe which he used to cast a spell on people around, trying to make them think that behind all the bright smiles and chummy attitude lies a person broken by the failure and disapproval that kept following him around like a shadow. Much like the song, the character of Ilsung evolved slowly, as Jaesub stacked layers of characteristics one onto another, taking stops between every new trait added, growing on it and adjusting according to the response the new part of his creation got. Ilsung is gradually developed, making him more and more complicated but keeping him feeling airy and clear – the exact way the song is.

 It‘s hard to associate Jaesub himself with something, as he‘s been anyone but himself for so long that somewhere along the way he lost who he was as an individual. Though, looking at how he was seven years ago before running away from home and living off of scamming, you could say he was a thrill seeker. That‘s why he got in so much trouble, that‘s why he left his parents and siblings - looking for something that would electrify him to the ends of his fingertips. Subconsciously, that‘s what he is looking for to this day while changing names and getting his hands one riches that were not his. Therefore, Jaesub reminds me of the song “Midnight City” by M83. It has this full, epic, wandering sound to it. And I think in that way it fits the thrill-seeker Jaesub, his choices in life and all the people he played out so far.

[tfloosh]

Hazardous

Look @thewhitegoddesshylia! I finished it! 

Okay but this is long, like 7134 words long. But it’s 7134 words of vigilante!TP Zelda flirting with jewel theif!TP Link, and I’m so proud of it. Enjoy Zelink lovers!

For Zelda Harkinian, discovering that her parents had kept a secret lair hidden deep in the mountain their estate sat on was one thing. Finding out from her old nanny turned housekeeper that they had been planning to take to the streets as vigilantes before the plane crash had been a whole ‘nother jar of marbles.

At first, she had been a little offended that her parents hadn’t included her in their secret plans. She was an amazing gymnast thanks to years of lessons when she was younger, and she was fairly proficient at martial arts since her parents had insisted she learn to defend herself at a young age. Impa had assured her that her parents intended to include her in their vigilantism once they deemed it safe enough, but Zelda was still irrationally angry. She had every right to be, she told herself. They left their billion dollar company to their twenty-two year old daughter who barely had her bachelor’s in business under her belt, kept this potentially life altering secret from her for two years according to Impa, and they had left her. She was still young, still at the beginning of her life; how was she going to make it without them?

After about a week of crying, attending boring board meetings to make her new position as CEO of the Harkinian Corporation official, and releasing her tension via punching bags, Zelda boldly declared to Impa that she would follow her parents’ footsteps and become a vigilante. She spent the next two weeks after modifying her mother’s intended costume and adding some of the gold accents from her father’s. Her parents had apparently already raided Harkinian Corp.’s technology division for toys and goodies, so Zelda didn’t have to worry there. There were grappling guns, various stunning devices, smoke bombs for a quick getaway, several nonlethal weapons, hacking devices, and even a state of the art detective’s kit filled with a fingerprint duster, tracking devices, bugging equipment, and evidence bags. Zelda left the detective kit behind for her first outing; she would work up to solving crimes, she figured.

Filling her gold utility belt with everything she deemed useful, Zelda donned her outfit and readied herself for her first adventure as the Loftwing, named after the mythical birds that protected Hylians in ancient times. It took her about an hour of jumping around buildings to get used to gliding with her cape, another hour of practicing to actually land gracefully, and then a solid three hours of waiting to catch two muggers and one drug dealer. All in all, Zelda felt pretty good about her first night out. It was exhilarating. A happiness she never thought she’d feel again after losing her parents had filled her. It was as if her parents were there with her, encouraging her, lending their spirits.

It didn’t take Zelda long to get addicted. Soon she was out every single night searching for bad guys and stopping crimes. Of course the police eventually caught on to her actions and branded her a public menace, but they quickly changed their tune when Loftwing ended up being the only person who could subdue the rampaging meta-human (‘cause what else do you call a guy who could turn into a wild boar at will) that attacked downtown Kakariko about two months after Zelda became the Loftwing.

After bringing the meta-human in, Loftwing’s public image became overwhelmingly positive, despite the grumblings of some older police captains and city councilmen. The newspapers had branded her Kakariko’s Golden Girl, and the mayor had even held a clichéd ceremony to give her a key to the city.

Life had been a fairly simple balance of signing important documents, attending board meetings, and patrolling nightly. That is until he came along.

Zelda had been about to turn in early from a rather uneventful night patrolling Kakariko when her scanners picked up an alarm going off at the Goron Jewel Refinery. An interesting target since most of the ore there was essentially worthless hunks of rock, but Zelda figured she should check it out anyway. It was easy enough to sneak in (something she would have to talk to the Gorons about), but the refinery seemed deserted. She carefully made her way to the room where the alarm was set off. The only thing noticeably different about the empty room was an open window a little too high for any normally motivated criminal. Whoever the thief was, they came here with a purpose.

Zelda continued to search nearby areas in the refinery. An outline of the building she had pulled up told her the storage room wasn’t too far; she headed in that direction. She opened the door and was instantly blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. It took a moment for the lenses in her domino mask to adjust, but by then the element of surprise was gone.

“You took longer than I expected, Loftwing,” a smooth, masculine voice called.

Zelda’s head whipped around, just in time for her to raise her arms and block the kick headed her way.

“You know this isn’t the best place to go jewel shopping,” Zelda grunted as she responded with a couple of punches and a kick of her own.

“Now who said I was shopping for jewels?” the man laughed as he disengaged her attack.

Zelda finally got a good look at the thief. He was slightly taller than her with wind swept, dark blonde hair and blue and red lines painted across his forehead and cheeks. His eyes were only white voids behind his mask, but his smirk was wide and cocky.

“We are in a jewel refinery,” Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Unless you really think you can make off with some of this machinery without being noticed.”

The thief simply laughed, “There technically aren’t any jewels here, only ore.”

“That’s not the best thing to make a ring out of,” Zelda quipped as she charged him to trade another round of blows.

“Never thought you’d be one for sarcastic comments, Loftwing,” the thief grabbed ahold of her leg as she spun to kick him. Zelda couldn’t break his hold, so she was stuck with her leg trapped against his shoulder. A mischievous smile spread over the thief’s face as he yanked her leg higher, causing Zelda to lose her balance and practically fall on him. Her hands fell to his shoulders, their faces inches apart, and she essentially stretched into a split against his body.

His grin darkened dangerously as he glanced down, “Flexible, nice.”

Zelda wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled with all her body weight to bring him to the ground, “You could at least try and stay professional, you pervert.”

“I prefer Shadow, if you don’t mind,” Shadow quickly broke out of her hold and both scrambled to get to their feet. “And you’ve kept me here longer than I intended, beautiful.” He swiftly dropped and swept his leg out to knock Zelda’s legs out from under her.

He ran over to where he left his bag of stolen ore, and gave her a cocky wink before declaring, “Catch you later, Loftwing.” He scrambled out of one of the storage room windows and disappeared into the night.

Zelda was still riling ten minutes later when the police finally showed up. She gave them a description of the thief and what he took along with his chosen codename of ‘Shadow’ before declaring she wouldn’t let him get away next time.

She took the next day off from work to train with Impa so she would be prepared for her next meeting with Shadow. She researched the type of ore Shadow had stolen and what it could be used for. She even looked up the markings that had been painted on his face to see if that would give her a clue to who Shadow was or where he came from.

And so Zelda waited. She kept an eye out for suspicious robberies and was always the first to respond to jewelry store break-ins for ten days before she met Shadow again.

It was at the Kakariko Natural History Museum. Zelda had chased Shadow from the Minerals of the Earth section up two floors and across the building to the History of the Sheikah Tribe exhibit.

“This is quite refreshing,” Shadow’s voice seemed to bounce off the walls, and Zelda couldn’t pinpoint his location in the exhibit. No wonder he gave himself the codename ‘Shadow.’ “Usually I’m the one chasing after girls.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Zelda called to the semidarkness. “I’m really only after those jewels you stole. Gonna add them to your collection of ore?”

“Trying to get me to reveal my evil master plan?” Shadow tutted. “Now that just won’t do, Loftwing.”

“As if a petty jewel thief would have any master plans,” Zelda taunted. She was so close to finding him. She just needed to keep him talking.

“Oh Loftwing, you wound me,” Shadow sighed dramatically. “You really only see me as a petty jewel thief?”

“I also see you as quite the arrogant ass if that helps,” Zelda smiled triumphantly as she rounded a corner to see Shadow with his back to her crouching behind a display. But it seemed the jewel thief was impossible to sneak up on. Shadow quickly turned to intercept Zelda as she ran toward him.

“I’m only an arrogant ass for you, beautiful,” he smirked as they sparred amongst the displays.

Shadow soon found her weakness; she was lessening the strength of her attacks to prevent damage to the exhibit, but it hindered her maneuverability substantially. So with a simple move that Zelda wouldn’t block for fear of breaking the display glass and harming the artifact within, Shadow had Zelda trapped face-first against the glass with her arms forced behind her.

“What’s your name?” he whispered into her ear.

Zelda answered with an attempt to kick his legs.

Shadow merely chuckled lowly, “Come on, beautiful. I only want to know your real name.”

“Like I would tell you,” Zelda said with as much acid as she could muster.

“Do you want to know why I led you here?” Shadow leaned down to rest his chin against her shoulder. Even with the pain in her arms, Zelda couldn’t help but notice how much of Shadow’s body was pressed up against her.

“It’s so we would be far enough away from the Minerals section to be undisturbed by the cops.”

Zelda gasped realizing he was right; the police would never come to this part of the museum when the crime occurred two floors below them.

“So we have all night alone,” his lips grazed her neck, and suddenly Zelda couldn’t breathe.

“Sheik,” she said, twisting her neck so he would no longer have access. “My name is Sheik.”

“Interesting name,” Shadow hummed. “Also the name of the ancient Sheikan warrior who protected the tribe during the Great War, so you’ll understand if I don’t believe you seeing as you’re trapped against a display describing his heroics.”

“Her,” Zelda panted, feeling far too hot with Shadow’s mouth so close to her skin. “Sheik was a woman.”

“Really?” his grip on her wrists slackened just a little. “You believe those old wives’ tales that Sheik was actually a woman?”

Zelda quickly broke his hold, flipping around and swiftly grabbing his wrists to stop his movement.

“Any intellectual who has actually spoken to a descendant of the Sheikah would know that Sheik was indeed a woman. A very badass woman, too.”

“Much like yourself, I presume,” Shadow flashed her a dazzling smile, but Zelda was ready this time.

“No more flirting for you, mister,” she dug out some industrial grade, nylon rope from her utility belt and tied his hands together. “Now are you going to answer my questions, or do I have to drag you straight to the police?”

“Will you let me go if I answer your questions?” Shadow countered.

“Of course not,” Zelda scoffed.

“Then I’m afraid we’re at an impasse, beautiful.”

Zelda didn’t like the smug grin that rested on his face. He had something up his sleeve, and she didn’t want to wait long enough for him to pull any tricks.

“I’m taking you down to the police,” she declared. But as she reached over to grab his wrists, Shadow hit her with a round house kick. Zelda fell backwards, hitting the back of her head against the display glass behind her. Her vision swirled. She looked up to see the hazy outline of Shadow waltzing toward her.

“I don’t have the time to waste breaking out of a cell, but it was a nice try,” he leaned down in front of her, but Zelda couldn’t make her limbs move to swipe at him. “I’ll just have to catch you later, beautiful.”

There was a slight pressure against the top of her head, and Zelda’s vision went black.

She was awoken by the police thirty minutes later. The detective on duty wanted to arrest her for trespassing, but once the security footage confirmed her story of fighting Shadow to regain the stolen gems, the detective reluctantly let her go free.

Impa checked her out once she got home. She wanted to call in sick to work again, but Impa advised her against it, stating that people might see notice a pattern if she doesn’t show up to work the day after every encounter Loftwing had with Shadow. So with no concussion to actually prevent her from going to Harkinian Corp. in the morning, Zelda reluctantly got up after three hours of sleep and dressed for work.

But Zelda could not keep her mind off Shadow. What were his plans? What was his motive? Where would he pop up next? Zelda was so consumed in her thoughts that she zoned out during two meetings with potential investors and had to continually ask her assistant to repeat herself whenever she was telling Zelda something.

Despite her exhaustion when she returned to the estate that evening, Zelda went straight to the secret lair to train with Impa.

“I think this constant vigilantism is causing you too much stress, Miss Zelda,” Impa said after their two hour work out. “It would be prudent for you to take a break.”

“Crime doesn’t take a break, Impa,” Zelda replied after she drank some water. “Besides, I can’t miss Shadow if he decides to rob another place.”

“Your desire to apprehend Shadow is clouding your judgement,” Impa fixed her with a stern look.

“Someone has to bring him in,” Zelda relied. “And the police certainly aren’t going to be able to do it.”

And so Impa reluctantly let Zelda go out on patrol, but only after getting her to promise that she would come in two hours earlier than she normally would.

Zelda hopped from building to building, making up her route as she went. Impa was right. Over the past two weeks or so, she had let Shadow consume her life outside of Loftwing, and she hadn’t even notice it happening. Was it because he was the first adversary she had come across that she couldn’t beat? Or could it be his cocky attitude? The way he was always incessantly flirting and how handsome he looked while fighting?

Woah, did she really just think Shadow was handsome? Where did that come from?

But before she could examine her strange thought train derailment, the police scanner on her communications unit reported a robbery at a jewelry store. Shadow was back to work quicker than she thought. Zelda made her way to the jewelry store, intent on paying him back for knocking her out last night.

She arrived at the jewelry store just as smoke started leaking out of the busted door, and Shadow was sneaking out via the roof. She followed him at a distance, hoping he would lead her to whatever hideout he probably used in the city. It was going well for about three blocks, and then he jumped over a fire escape, and she lost him. She walked to the edge of the building to see if he was down in the alley still running, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Yo! Loftwing!”

Or not.

Zelda turned around to see Shadow smiling mockingly at her. He gave her a tiny wave.

“I’m actually pretty glad you followed me away from the police. You see, I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” Shadow thrust an accusatory finger in her direction, his smile furrowing into a frown. “Why the hell did you have to tie me up in industrial grade rope, huh? I couldn’t get it off myself and had to ask my neighbor to untie me, and do you want to know what I had to wind up telling her as an excuse? That my girlfriend left me high and dry while we were playing at bondage!”

Zelda snorted before collapsing in giggles. She had no idea what she had been expecting Shadow to say, but it definitely wasn’t that.

“And the worst part is,” Shadow continued ranting. “She gave me this knowing smile like it was a hundred percent viable excuse. I don’t even have a girlfriend, man!”

Zelda couldn’t stop laughing. Her knees already felt weak, and her cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling. She let Shadow continue to rant for five minutes before she held up a hand to stop him.

“Oh my Goddess,” she breathed deeply to try and stop the laughter that was still bubbling up. “You’re serious, aren’t you? That’s probably the best thing I’ve heard in my entire life.”

“I’m glad my embarrassing life stories amuse you,” Shadow griped.

Zelda rolled her eyes, her smile refusing to fall from her face just yet, “You’re the one who turned around just to tell me this story.”

“So you would feel guilty,” Shadow crossed his arms defiantly like a pouty child. “Not so you would laugh at me.”

“Then your story shouldn’t have been funny,” Zelda retorted with a smirk.

“I demand compensation,” Shadow grinned slyly. “Tell me your name, and I’ll consider us even.”

“So that’s your angle,” Zelda’s smile fell. There went the light mood. She stalked over to Shadow and rather violently prodded him in the chest with her finger.

“First of all, you are a criminal. The fact that I tied you up does not deserve compensation of any sort. Secondly, my name would absolutely not be equal compensation for tying you up. And most importantly, I will never tell you my name.”

Shadow laced a frown over his features and rubbed the spot Zelda had poked, “I’m hurt, Loftwing. I thought we had a real connection, one that could develop into something more.”

“Really?” Zelda couldn’t resist a weak jab at his chest that he easily blocked. “You could have fooled me with the way you knocked me out last night. You know the detective on duty wanted to arrest me for trespassing? Not cool, Shadow.” She threw another punch with a little more power behind it.

Shadow dodged with a laugh, “So are we going to fight over who had the worst night yesterday? ‘Cause I really think my story is totally worse.” He retaliated with a simple right hook Zelda easily blocked.

“Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” Zelda asked as she aimed a kick to Shadow’ stomach.

“Never, beautiful,” he laughed as they exchanged a few more blows. “It’s just a part of my charm.”

“I thought that was what the flirting was for,” Zelda snapped. Her punches were backed with more power, and Shadow actually grunted when one landed on his side.

“Awe, Loftwing,” he cooed in a way that would have been annoying if Zelda hadn’t interrupted him with a punch in the gut. “You aren’t jealous, are you? Come on, beautiful; you know I don’t flirt with anyone else when I try to escape. Not even the really cute cops, I promise.”

“Jealousy would imply actual feelings,” Zelda grunted as Shadow threw a particularly powerful punch her way. “And I don’t have any feelings for you.” A weird, twisty, churning feeling that had nothing to do with Shadow’s latest kick bloomed in her gut.

“That just means I have to try harder to wear you down,” Shadow chuckled. Zelda could swear he winked at her behind his mask.

“Oh that’s what we’re calling it now?” Zelda huffed as she sent another barrage of kicks at Shadow.

He blocked the kicks then swiftly wrapped his arm around Zelda’s waist and pulled her close to him.

“Why don’t we make this dance more literal?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Zelda began to protest, but her hands were pressed against Shadow’s belt, or more specifically, the bag of stolen jewels clipped to his belt.

“If you want to dance with me,” Zelda whispered in the sultry voice she used on guys in college before she slapped them for being handsy. “You’ll have to score an invite to one of my parties.”

“So you throw parties?” Shadow chuckled. “And so the mystery grows.”

“Parties, galas, the occasional work dinner,” Zelda leaned in a touch closer. “But it’ll take more than that for you to see me without my mask.”

“Just wait until I sneak into one of your parties, beautiful,” Shadow winked behind his mask before pulling away from Zelda and back flipping off the building.

But Zelda didn’t feel the need to pursue, not with the bag of jewels in her hands.

The next day, Zelda was bubbly and smiling at everyone. She didn’t realize she was acting differently until her secretary asked her if she was alright.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Zelda smiled. “Just happy for no meetings today.”

“Well you do have a couple of small meetings, Miss,” her secretary smiled. “Just a lunch meeting with the president of the Kakariko State University Future Business Leader’s Association to talk about some internship possibilities for Association members, and then at two you have a meeting with the director of the Kakariko Humane Society to talk about their latest fundraising dinner.”

“See but those are easy meetings,” Zelda nodded as she took a sip of her coffee.

The young and peppy president of the Kakariko State University Future Business Leader’s Association nearly talked Zelda to death, and Zelda somehow agreed to come speak at their next meeting before she even knew what was happening.

And the director of the Kakariko Humane Society was really cute, so Zelda felt the need to buy an entire table for his fundraising dinner next week. She could guilt trip her board members into going with her if her friends couldn’t make it.

Needless to say, Zelda was in a pretty happy mood for patrol as Loftwing that night. She managed to finally get one of the drug dealers to reveal their source and stopped three robberies. She was just about to head in for the night when, surprise, surprise, Shadow dropped down in front of her with that Cheshire grin across his face.

“Have I told you, you have a beautiful smile?” he asked.

Zelda eyed him suspiciously, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Well you do,” his smiled widened.

“Is there something you need, Shadow?”

“Oh, no not really,” his grin somehow widened even more. “I just wanted to see the famous Loftwing in her downtime.”

“I’m patrolling,” Zelda rolled her eyes. “This isn’t downtime.” She ran toward the edge of the building and jumped to the neighboring roof. But that wasn’t enough to shake her Shadow.

“You���re not fighting off criminals; that’s downtime enough for me,” he smirked as he landed gracefully next to her. He grabbed her by the arm to stop her from running off again.

“Well, don’t blame me if you get left behind then,” Zelda scowled. She shook off his hold and took off running as fast as she could, intent on losing Shadow in the jungle gym that was the skyline of Kakariko.

She circled around downtown and climbed the flag pole on the top of the courthouse dome.

“Is that the best you can do, beautiful?” Shadow called above the wind from the base of the flagpole.

“Are you issuing a challenge?”

“Only if you’re willing to participate,” Shadow smirked. “For a prize of course.”

Zelda slid down the flagpole, “I might be game, as long as the prize isn’t my name.”

“How about a kiss then?” Shadow raised an eyebrow. His expression was playful and teasing; Zelda couldn’t tell if he was entirely serious or not. It was a harmless bet. She would just have to win, and then it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Deal.”

Shadow’s smile spread to a full on shit-eating grin, “How about we name check points to meet up at. Whoever gets there first gets a point. Whoever had the most points at the end of the night wins.”

“Who gets to decide what the checkpoints are?” Zelda asked.

“We can switch off to make it fair.”

Zelda felt her adrenaline rising. The anticipation, the race, it was making her feel giddy in a way she hadn’t felt since she first donned her cape as Loftwing.

“So where to first?” she asked, already bouncing on her heels.

“Lady’s choice,” Shadow leaned in close enough that their noses almost touched.

Zelda surprised herself by not pulling away, “The old windmill on the edge of town.”

She sent Shadow a wink then leapt of the courthouse dome into the open air. She effortlessly glided down to an office building across the street then started to make her way to the old abandoned windmill she had set as the checkpoint. History books say it had drawn water for Kakariko when it was still but a small village, and really if it weren’t such an important historical landmark, the city would have torn it down years ago. Zelda made it there in good time and counted to sixty before Shadow landed behind her.

“One point for you, beautiful,” Shadow smirked. “Enjoy your lead while you can.”

“Where to next, Shadow?” Zelda attempted to roll her eyes but found she couldn’t thanks to the smile spreading across her cheeks.

“The Temple by the graveyard,” Shadow declared. “Not the super old, creepy one at the back. The top of the steeple at the Temple in the front. Our Ladies of Something and Someother.”

“It’s Hope and Love,” Zelda corrected, but Shadow was already off.

She quickly grappled to the nearest tall building in order to catch up to him. Zelda had never felt this alive in her life. She was almost glad Shadow had come to her tonight and proposed this game. She hadn’t had this much fun since before her parents died.

She climbed up the steeple of the Temple of Our Ladies of Hope and Love. Zelda was rarely on this side of town; there wasn’t enough crime to warrant frequent patrolling of the area.

“Nice of you to drop by,” Shadow suddenly dropped down beside her. “I only got here half a minute before you, so don’t worry. You didn’t lose by much.”

“I won’t be losing anymore, Shadow,” Zelda smirked. “Next checkpoint is the top of Old Main on Kakariko State’s campus. Know where it is?”

“I might have toured the campus once or twice or seven times while in grade school,” Shadow sneered. “You won’t be winning this round, Loftwing.”

“Then prove me wrong, handsome,” Zelda laughed as she jumped off the Temple steeple to glide to a building across the street.

She didn’t realize what she had said to Shadow until she was half way to Kakariko State University’s campus. Zelda almost stopped dead in her tracks. She called Shadow ‘handsome’ to his face. How could she have said such a thing? He was never going to let that go; Shadow was going to bring that up every time they ran into each other from now until eternity. She couldn’t face him again. But she also couldn’t lose this bet. She would just have to play it off, Zelda decided, pretend she said it to throw him off and give herself a lead.

But does that mean she actually meant it?

Her mind was still jumbled when she arrived at the roof of Old Main, Kakariko State’s academic building. No matter how thoroughly she thought it through, Zelda could not convince herself that she didn’t think Shadow was handsome.

“There you are,” Shadow called from the ledge of the dome that sat atop Old Main. “You sure took you time getting here.”

“Looks like my trick didn’t work,” Zelda fake-sighed. “Me calling you ‘handsome’ didn’t slow you down at all, did it?”

“Not in the slightest,” he slipped from the ledge he was sitting on and made his way over to where Zelda was standing. “But it did seem to trip you up.” Shadow slowly invaded her personal space with a smirk across his lips, but Zelda refused to step back. “Didn’t it, beautiful?”

He reached for a stray strand of brunette hair that was hovering in front of Zelda’s face and gently tucked it behind her ear. His fingers grazed the edge of her domino mask, and suddenly that out of breath feeling hit Zelda again. She stumbled backward, turning away from Shadow against her crime-fighting instincts.

“Where,” she began, but she had to take a deep breath before continuing. “Where to next?”

“The top of Harkinia Corp.’s headquarters,” Shadow said. Zelda knew he could clearly see the shock in her face. “What? Scared the tallest building in the city might have too romantic a view, Loftwing?”

“No,” she practically growled. “I’ll beat you there no matter what.”

“You better,” Shadow called keeping right behind her as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop to exit Kakariko State’s campus. “Otherwise I’ll start to think you’re losing this bet on purpose.”

His laughter still echoed in her ears even as she pulled away from him and made her way across the city to her own office building. She did so almost mindlessly; Harkinian Corp.’s tower was always her halfway point on patrols. She was sure she would beat Shadow there. And then she was going to punch him for the little stunt he pulled on the roof of Old Main. And maybe she would punch him again if he tried to pull anything else on the roof of Harkinian Corp. ‘Too romantic a view’ her ass.

Zelda was so caught up in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice Shadow in front of her until she was two blocks away from Harkinian Corp. Dammit. Letting Shadow get to the top of the skyscraper first was not an option. Zelda picked up her speed, pushing her grappling gun to its limits in order to hop from roof to roof quicker. But it wasn’t enough. She was seconds away from touching down on the roof of Harkinian Corp. when she saw Shadow saunter onto the rooftop. Zelda felt like screaming as she landed on the concrete roof.

“So close,” Shadow laughed as he traipsed over toward her. “Yet so far.”

Zelda shot menacing daggers from her eyes before she remembered Shadow couldn’t actually see her eyes behind her domino mask.

“I guess I should just show mercy on you and take my prize now,” he smirked. “Unless you wish to continue.”

“Ah, yes,” Zelda said harshly. She stalked toward him, meeting him halfway across the roof, and stopping close enough to make him lean back slightly. “Why don’t we make our next checkpoint the roof of Precinct 1? I’m sure the cops would just love you voluntarily landing on their building.”

“I think I’ll pass on that one,” Shadow clearly rolled his eyes even though Zelda couldn’t see it. “Let’s just call an end to our game, hmm? I won’t even kiss you if that’s what’s bothering you so much.”

Zelda narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Shadow. If she called off the bet with no kiss, Shadow would turn her words back on her claiming she had feelings for him, which she absolutely did not. But if she just gave in and let him have his kiss, well… she’d be giving in and letting him have his kiss. It was a lose, lose situation, and Zelda couldn’t see a way out of it at all.

“That’s not what’s bothering me,” she scoffed to buy herself some time to think. Then Zelda heard the distance wailing of sirens on the street far below them. That was strange; her emergency signal tracker hadn’t picked anything up. Her emergency signal tracker hadn’t picked anything up. She quickly examined her gauntlets where the communications unit was located.

“All of my comms are shut off,” Zelda whispered. How could she have not noticed until now?

“Loftwing?” Shadow stepped forward cautiously.

“Did you do this?” Zelda turned to him menacingly. “Did you shut of my comms so I wouldn’t be distracted from your stupid game?”

“No!” he gasped, leaping back as Zelda advanced on him. “I would never, Loftwing; you have my word.”

“Sad thing is, I don’t trust your word,” Zelda lashed out at him angrily. Her movements were sloppy and filled with rage, but she didn’t care. He had the opportunity to shut of her comm system when he grabbed her arm on that very first rooftop they met on. Shadow had prevented her from fulfilling her duty to protect Kakariko, to save peoples’ lives, to honor her parents’ memories.

Zelda froze mid-punch. She was lashing out at Shadow for all the attention she had focus on him and not the rest of her duties, angry at him for being the only criminal so far she had yet to bring in to the police, fighting with him when all he had really done was exist.

“I’m sorry,” she hung her head. She had let anger cloud her judgment; Impa would be disappointed.

Shadow seemed to hesitate for a second before quickly wrapping his arms around her and gently sealing their lips together.

Zelda was not expecting that. It was literally the last thing she thought she would be doing that night. But, damn, if it wasn’t the best kiss she’s had in her life. Not that she would ever tell Shadow that, especially after she decked him with a mean right hook when they separated.

“That was for not asking first,” she growled out. Zelda had to resist the urge to pull him back toward her for another kiss. Wow, where did that come from?

“So if I ask, can I kiss you again?” Shadow’s face lit up into a ridiculous smile.

Zelda was at the edge of the rooftop already. She slowly turned around with a coy smile and laughing eyes hidden behind her mask.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

Three hours later, Zelda was in her bedroom screaming into a pillow.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she howled to an apathetic Impa. “I let him kiss me. And then I told him he could do it again.” She screamed into the pillow again. “What is wrong with me?”

“You are attracted to him,” Impa stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But he’s a thief,” Zelda whined. “He steals precious jewels and ore, and this is bad; it’s hazardous.”

“Are you afraid you are compromised by your feelings?” Impa asked bluntly.

“I know I am, Impa,” Zelda rolled over to look her house keeper in the eye. “I spent practically the half night playing tag with him and barely helping anyone, and then I let him kiss me, and I enjoyed it.”

“But you found out where the suppliers are for all the dealers in the city,” Impa attempted to cheer her up. “Now you can focus on taking that down instead of Shadow.”

“That’s true,” Zelda nodded and rubbed her face. “Time to start investigating.”

Zelda spent the next week working, taking short patrols across Kakariko, and scoping out the drug supplies that were hidden in the mountains. The storehouses were so extensive, Zelda thought she might have to call in the help of the police department. But there wasn’t time for that now. Zelda had a fundraiser to go to.

Zelda put on her favorite dress, the sparkly purple one with the halter top and the slit that was just high enough to be sexy but not high enough to be called slutty. She was meeting a couple of friends from college and a few of the board members she managed to guilt trip into attending at the dinner. When she gracefully exited her car, Zelda was surprised to see the director of the Humane Society waiting for her.

“Miss Harkinian,” he offered his arm to escort her. Dang, he looked good in a tux.

“Call me Zelda, please,” she smiled as she took his arm, and they started walking. “You didn’t have to come escort me, Link.”

He chuckled, “I couldn’t let this evening pass without saying thank you to the largest donor here.” His smile faltered as he realized what he said. “Ah, shit no, I meant you gave the largest donation to the Humane Society, not that you are, like, physically large. You actually look stunning in that dress. Dammit, there went my suave first impression.” Link hung his head after his ramble. Zelda could only laugh.

“No, it’s okay,” Zelda couldn’t stop the small chuckles escaping her lips. “This is better; now we don’t have to be pretentiously formal with each other.”

Link smiled, “If you say so. Shall I show you to your table?”

“Yes, please,” Zelda smiled as their photo was taken. They walked to a table near the front center, and Link pulled out a chair in between Ashei, one of Zelda’s college friends, and one of the stuffy board members of Harkinian Corp.

“Don't be a stranger, Link,” Zelda winked as he left to entertain some more guests.

“You’re sweet on that guy, yeah?” Ashei leaned in close to Zelda and smirked.

“There’s nothing wrong with helping a good cause,” Zelda shrugged, hiding her grin by taking a sip of wine.

The fundraiser was quite the success. Link came back over to talk with Zelda at least three separate times, and he even escorted her out to her car when she left a little early so she could have a short patrol as Loftwing before going to bed.

“Feel free to call me if you ever need anything,” Zelda smiled, hesitating before getting into her car.

“I will,” Link’s eyes sparkled, and damn they were so blue.

“I’ll see you later then,” Zelda couldn’t stop smiling as she slipped into the car.

“Maybe quicker than you think,” he winked before closing the door for her.

“So I take it you had a good time, Miss Zelda?” Impa asked from the driver’s seat.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t comment, Impa,” Zelda tried to snap, but it didn’t sound right with a smile plastered across her face.

Later that night, Zelda was letting out her excitement by twirling across rooftops and flipping excessively when jumping from one place to another. It wasn’t until she heard clapping as she crossed one rooftop that Zelda felt mildly self-conscious of her movements.

“Lovely show,” Shadow called. “When should I expect your name in lights?”

“Give me five years and I’ll take the stage by storm,” Zelda laughed.

“Someone had a good night,” Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Care to share the juicy details?”

“I think the juicy details would only hurt your feelings,” Zelda sighed. “But if you must know, I met a guy.”

“Loftwing,” Shadow gasped, playfully scandalized. “Have you been cheating on me?”

“Oh no,” Zelda smirked. “This guy I actually like.”

Shadow comically threw a hand over his heart, “Now that hurts me deep, Loftwing. How would Link feel about you being so vicious?”

Zelda froze, “I never said his name.”

“Funny thing about Links though,” Shadow chuckled and reached up to his domino mask. “There aren’t all that many in the world.”

Zelda gasped as Shadow took off his domino mask revealing brilliant, blue, familiar eyes.

“You said I could call if I ever needed anything, right?” Link smiled. “Well I have a proposition.”

“How do you know who I am?” Zelda asked, still wary of the thief.

“I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until you reacted to my name,” Link smiled sheepishly. “But it was a silly thing really. When we played tag, you wore the same earrings as Zelda Harkinian when I met her for our meeting earlier that day. And then your smile is pretty unique, uh in a good way. As in it’s really beautiful, and ‘I could recognize that smile everywhere,’ you know?”

“We’re going back to my place,” Zelda declared. She started to stalk off the roof.

“I, uh, you need a ride?” Link called after her.

She turned, “You got one?”

Ten minutes later, Link was driving his motorcycle into the secret lair Zelda had been operating out of under her mountain estate.

He whistled lowly as he turned the engine off, “This is so much nicer than the back room of my shelter.”

“You have a shelter?” Zelda asked as she finally took of her own domino mask.

“Yeah, I own and operate the Kakariko Animal Shelter,” Link said as he stared around the lair. “It’s hilariously underfunded, and I had to take to stealing things from people who totally deserved it by the way so the animals in the shelter could get the proper care they need.”

“So what is this proposition you mentioned earlier?” Zelda stared at him, hands on her hips.

“Well, Shadow wouldn’t need to take to the streets stealing jewels if the KAS was funded by the charitable Zelda Harkinian, who recently found a passion for helping the animals of Kakariko at a recent fundraising dinner.”

“That sounds pretty plausible,” Zelda tilted her head to the side. “What would I get out of it?”

“A partner,” Link’s bravado faded once again. “If you want one, I mean, if you’ll have me.”

“Did you just ask me to be your girlfriend?” she couldn’t resist the tease.

“Only if you’re offering, beautiful,” Link smirked. For once, Zelda could see the mischievous Shadow in Link’s blue eyes.

“We’ll talk,” Zelda conceded. “But I’ll agree to your other conditions. I’ll help fund your animal shelter, and you can be my partner permitted you stop committing crimes.”

“Deal!” Link smiled enthusiastically.

They could hash out the details later, Zelda figured as she took in the huge grin on Link’s face. For right now, she wanted to get to know this lighter side to her Shadow.

[cooperenjoys]

Top Ten Movies of 2016

This is my thirteen (going on 30) year of doing a list of my top ten (Eleven) movies of the year.  You should make a comment of some kind! And if you don’t see your favorite film, tell me. Enjoy Movies.

10. Love & Friendship: Whit Stillman + Jane Austin = A funny and wonderful film that any Jane Austin fan should see right away.  Love & Friendship is pure breezy wit from beginning to end, and with so many verbal punch lines that you won’t be able to catch every joke in one viewing.  Kate Beckinsale proves again that she is way more than the Underworld movies.  And Tom Bennett is an actor to keep an eye on since he steals every scene he is in.  Film Fact: Kate Beckinsale's first theatrical release in almost four years.

9. Don’t Breathe: Fede Alvarez + home invasion = A grind house thriller ride that never lets up. Fede Alvarez has done it again after his well done remake of Evil Dead.  Alvarez exploits the sensory impairment of his villain for one suspenseful set piece after another, demonstrating a strong command of his craft while investing the mayhem with some sly subtext, both economic and moral. Mostly, though, Don’t Breathe is an exercise in pure, sustained intensity that never lets up until the final frames. A must see for any one that loves thrillers. Film Fact: Stephen Lang wore contact lenses that greatly restricted his vision, particularly in low light. The other actors, in the scene taking place in the dark, wore lenses that made them look like they had dilated pupils but also greatly restricted their vision.

8. Arrival:  Denis Villeneuve (Sicario) + Aliens = One of best films of the off the year that appeals to the intellect just as strongly as it appeals to the heart. In a film that explores language and characters, it allows the viewer to experience the depth and wonders of what language means, what it’s for, and what it can do. Also, how we communicate alters our perceptions. I have been enjoying this trend of recent years of smart science fiction and I am really excited to see what Denis Villeneuve does with the new Blade Runner. (I wrote almost the same line last year for Sicario.)  Film Fact: Director Denis Villeneuve and screenwriter Eric Heisserer created a fully functioning, visual, alien language. Heisserer, Vermette and their teams managed to create a "logogram bible," which included over a hundred different completely operative logo-grams, seventy-one of which are actually featured in the movie.

7. Deadpool/ Captain America: Civil War: Ryan Reynolds + Rated R Superhero film = Gold. And Superheroes fighting each other + Actually a good Spiderman = Nerd dreams.  I am happy that Ryan Reynolds finally got to be the correct version of Deadpool and got to do the film correctly.  Deadpool was a hilarious, crass, and ironic film that did something certain audiences have been waiting for, something different and that is why its highest grossing R-rated movie of all time. I am hoping Logan follows this trend of something different.  Film Fact: 20th Century Fox refused to pay the writers of the film, Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, for onset input, Ryan Reynolds paid out of his own pocket for them to be onset to look over the film. While Captain America: Civil War had phenomenal action sequences and good character development, it also redeemed the not fantastic Avengers: Age of Ultron and cleansed the palette for the next Spider-Man movie. I can actually say that I am excited for the next Spider-Man movie thanks to this movie.  I can also say this was the essence of a classic Marvel comic come to life: the melodramatic angst, the team-ups and the in-fighting between characters. Everything my teenage self would have wanted.  Film Fact: The day before filming a fight scene with Robert Downey Jr., Sebastian Stan sent him a video of himself doing intense bicep curls in front of the decapitated head of an Iron Man suit. He attached the message, ‘Looking forward to our scene tomorrow Robert.’

6. Moonlight: Alex R. Hibbert + Ashton Sanders + Trevante Rhodes = Three amazing actors playing one character through many stages of his life. Moonlight is a stunning piece of filmmaking that is beautiful shot. Barry Jenkins used a shoestring budget to create a heart warming story of a boy growing, learning and finally accepting just who he is. There is so much I want to say about this film but I rather it is a surprise when you see it.  I can say that Mahershala Ali is amazing in it too and that he deserves an Oscar for this role.  Film Fact: When Juan teaches Little how to swim, Mahershala Ali is really teaching Alex R. Hibbert how to swim. When production started, Hibbert did not know how to swim.

5. Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping: The Lonely Island + Mockumentarie = Box office failer, but Soon to be Cult classic (I hope).  I have to say I enjoyed every second of this movie.  While this movie has its silly moments that I enjoyed, I do feel it digs deep into the absurdities of not just the music business, but the nature of the music documentary. Couple that with genuinely great songs like “Equal Rights”, “Finest Girl (Bin Laden Song)”, and “Incredible Thoughts” and I feel like it is absolutely worthy of standing alongside other faux music docs like A Mighty Wind or This Is Spinal Tap. This is a movie I will be watching over and over again and finding new things to laugh about every time.  And after writing this, all I want to do is stop writing and go watch it again.  Film Fact: A small clip from a Lonely Island video "Kablamo" is seen in the movie.

4. Midnight Special: Jeff Nichols + Michael Shannon = Another Fantastic movie on my top ten list.  Jeff Nichols is on a string of fantastic movies. He is the Director of the fantastic film Mud that was on my top ten list last year.  He also directed another film getting a lot of hype this year, Loving. In the middle of those two films he decided to make a somewhat-Spielbergian sci-fi/adventure that manages to be both grounded and awe-inspiring. And he did what he always has done and hired the wonderful Michael Shannon to be in the movie, this time giving him a bigger role. Jeff Nichols also surrounded Michael Shannon with other great actors: Kirsten Dunst, Joel Edgerton, Adam Driver, Sam Shepard and young Jaeden Lieberher. This all together makes Midnight Special a lively and riveting movie that trusting its audience in a way few movies of this scope dare to be anymore. Its gets my award for best sci-fi of the year and continues the trend of smart science fiction movies. Film Fact: Jeff Nichols wrote the film as a reflection on becoming a father.

3. Manchester by the Sea: Kenneth Lonergan + Casey Affleck + Michelle Williams = Cryfest.   I have to start out that you will cry in this movie...well, at least I did.  Don’t let that scare you away from the wonderful film because while this movie is a sad movie, it’s also hilarious and sweet and frustrating movie.  The movie is just about Life, how messy and strange and sometimes incomprehensible it can be.  Kenneth Lonergan vision of human experience and the unknowability of the human heart is shown through the fantastic actors in the film.  A cast that includes Casey Affleck, Michelle Williams, Kyle Chandler (This man can do know wrong), Gretchen Mol, Matthew Broderick and a brilliant discovery Lucas Hedges.  One scene with Michelle Williams and Casey Affleck has me crying just thinking about it.  Go See it. Film Fact: According to an interview with Kenneth Lonergan on DP/30, the idea for the film didn't originate with him - the main core of a character going back home to take care of a family member after a death was pitched to Lonergan by Matt Damon and John Krasinski as a script that Lonergan would write and for Damon to direct. But due to scheduling conflicts with The Martian, Damon couldn't direct the film or star in it (he suggested Casey Affleck to star in the film.) Lonergan was then given free rein as a writer-director for the project, with Damon and Krasinski as producer.

2. Hunt for the Wilderpeople: Taika Waititi + New Zealand = A fun and beautiful film.  In this year of hell and death, we are lucky that Taika Waititi was there to give us this cheerful film that would require a strong effort to actually dislike it. After directing the fantastic What We Do in the Shadows, Waititi turned his attention to a heart-warming pre-teen adventure that would have felt right at home in the 1980s alongside The Goonies and Stand By Me. Julian Dennison and Sam Neill play off each other so well, that every scene with them is a delight.  The film also has beautiful shots of New Zealand forests. If you haven’t seen it, you are in for a real treat.  Film Fact: The Toyota that main characters use is called Crumpy, in reference to Barry Crump, the author of the book the screenplay was based on. An identical vehicle was driven by Barry Crump in a long running series of Toyota commercials in New Zealand, where Barry played a bushman taking a city slicker named Scotty for a drive through the Bush. Scotty was played by Lloyd Scott, who appears in this film as "Tourist".

1. Hell or High Water: Taylor Sheridan + Western = Best film of the year.  First thing that drew me into this film was the dialog.  Taylor Sheridan has shown he is a brilliant screenwriter after doing this film and last year’s Sicario. (This movie keeps popping up on this list.)  Sheridan has written a witty screenplay here that captures a bank-robbing cowboy movie perfectly while having a scathing commentary on the financial health of the country.  The film is a perfect balance of entertaining and having something say about the state of things.  The second item that helped this film is the stunning performances from Jeff Bridges, Ben Foster, Chris Pine and Gil Birmingham.  I would say the best role Chris Pine has ever played.  Jeff Bridges does a perfect job of being likeable and racist. And Ben Foster can do no wrong.  Then there is David Mackenzie directing.  He does a perfect job of showing a small buddy film but also displaying the wide open space of Texas.  I loved every inch of this movie.  Film Fact: The phrase "come hell or high water" typically means "do whatever needs to be done, no matter the circumstances". It also refers to the "hell or high water clause" in a contract, usually a lease, which states that the payments must continue regardless of any difficulties the paying party may encounter. Both definitions apply to different parts of the plot in this movie.

Top Ten Honourably Mention (In Alphabetical order):

Doctor Strange

Don’t Think Twice

Green Room

La La Land

Maggie’s Plan

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

Sing Street

Swiss Army Man

The Invitation

The Witch

Best Animated Movie:

Zootopia

Runner Up: Kubo and the Two Strings and Moana

Best Documentary:  

O.J.: Made in America

Other Good Films of the Year:

Hail, Caesar!

Jungle Book

Nice Guys

Finding Dory

Mr. Right

Bad Moms

Sully

Eddie The Eagle

Captain Fantastic

Keanu

Everybody Wants Some!!!

The Lobster

Worst:

5. X-Men: Apocalypse

4. Star Trek Beyond (You can’t win them all Chris Pine)

3. Zoolander 2

2. Sausage Party

1. Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

[ecotone99]

[SF] Sandbox - Episode #1: Playground

A man dressed in a long overcoat stood across the street from an apartment building. He had a thick, silvery mustache that made him look like a wolf with weathered gray fur and aged scars. A wolf on its last legs that pushed through the heavy snow ahead as the strongest in the pack. Old but still dangerous. Spotlights blasted the exterior of the building from multiple angles. Police cars blockaded the street. Bright yellow tape fluttered in the wind. Wooden barricades shook as dozens of heavy boots hit the ground and passed near them. More and more backup arrived. Officers grouped at a distance; their eyes focused on their target. The apartment façade looked brighter than a newly minted silver coin.

“Evening, sir. Our chief informed us you would oversee this operation. My men are in position and ready to move in when you give the green-light.” A police officer approached the man in the overcoat.

“Deputy Director Malius Dusman.” The man extended a hand.

“We weren’t expecting the Special Intelligence Service to take over.”

“SIS usually deals with foreign intelligence and manages covert operations, but this is a special case.”

“Your orders, Deputy Director?”

“Keep your men on standby for now. No one is to approach the building under any circumstances. The situation looks dangerous.” Dusman pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“A terrorist?”

“I cannot give you an answer officer. Any information SIS acquires here is to remain classified. I’ve called in one of my subordinates to assess the situation. Your job is to keep the area secure.” Dusman exhaled a cloud of white smoke. “There he is now.”

“Got it, sir. You can count on us. I’ll leave you both to it then.” The officer marched off.

A man with slicked-back hair walked past the barricades. He wore an uncollared shirt and a dark blazer with an embroidered tulip on the breast pocket. His eyes looked like amber stones with a smoldering fire trapped within them. Like a movie or play propped up and carried on the shoulders of a single actor, his eyes looked like they would save the day with a sword forged in its flames.

“Rev. Good of you to come.” Dusman said as Rev drew near.

“Sorry, I’m late Deputy Director. The Bosnians were giving me a hard time. I flew in from Sarajevo soon as I got your message.”

“Forget the Bosnians. This one takes the cake at Priority Level Onyx.”

“A threat of unknown origin?”

“Residents of the building were calling the police and reporting a series of unusual events. Doors leading from one end of the building to another country. People almost drowning or being bitten by sharks in their bathtubs in meters deep water. Trees and animals running amok through the hallways. There were too many reports to ignore, so police were dispatched to check out what everyone was smoking.”

“And?’

“When the officers entered the building, they dropped out of contact. Radios became scrambled. Cellphones dropped out of service. The police chief sent more men, but they also disappeared without a trace. That’s when I got a call from the higher-ups. One of our satellites detected a massive level of energy coming from this building. Suffice it to say my observations so far have confirmed their suspicions. The longer the energy source remains unsecured, the more potent its effects. Take a closer look at our target.”

Rev eyed the building from top to bottom.

“All the glass in the windows looks like it turned into a thin film of water?” Rev said.

“Like puddles in the rain. Check out the building’s walls.” Dusman pointed.

“Gemstones are growing on the exterior?”

“If we do not stop it, the radius of these unexplained effects will continue to increase. You know me Rev. I expect and prepare for the worst. I have a feeling the fallout could be global. Everything humanity achieved up to 2020 will do down the crapper. This is not only a threat with unknown origins. This is an unknown threat to the foundation of our reality.”

“What’s the plan?”

“This is why I asked for you, Rev. I need you to figure out what in the blazes is going on and find a way to save all those people trapped inside. Meanwhile, I’ve requested a containment team from headquarters to lock down the scene. I’ll be plugging any leaks until we have more intel. This will be a shadow job. Top secret. The whole package. You get me, Rev?”

“Any conditions for this one?” Rev asked.

“Pull out all the stops. SIS is throwing all resources at this. I spoke to the Director and I told him you’re the only qualified agent to deal with this situation. Taking your covert operations experience and reputation as a sharp investigator, they agreed with me. Full public containment is a priority. The fewer people know about this the better they’ll sleep at night. If all goes well everyone will love a story with a happy ending.”

“This will take one hell of a creative spin for the media to eat up.”

“The agency also needs to keep this under wraps internally as well. Only me, you and the Director know about the situation here.”

“I brought Jasek with me to assist.”

“Jasek Dubinsky? The science guru?”

“That’s the one. Though I’d call him more of a materials specialist.”

“And he’s essential?”

“Jasek is an asset to the team. I rely on him whenever things get technical.”

“Fine, we’ll add one more brain to the list of confidants.”

“Alright, time to us to get started.” Rev pulled out his cellphone.

“Jasek, bring the geospatial scanner. Hurry.” “Yes, boss! Right away, boss!”

“Someone sounds excited.” Dusman commented.

“We’ll get to try out a new toy.”

“What are you planning?”

Jasek sprinted between barricades and police cars with a duffle bag. He wore thick-framed prescription glasses and a t-shirt with a Fibonacci spiral print. He reached Dusman and Rev nearly out of breath.

“Here, boss.”

“You need to work on your cardio Jasek.”

“Yes, boss!”

Jasek started to unpack the contents of the bag. He took out a laptop and a smooth cylindrical device on a collapsible tripod. Jasek placed the device so its array of lenses faced the building.

“To answer your question Deputy Director. Jasek here is setting up a long-distance geospatial scanner. It’s going to create a detailed map of the building’s interior for us and provide any data the satellite might not have picked up.”

“How is a map relevant?”

“This scanner will pinpoint the exact location of the energy source. That’ll make it easier for me to navigate on the inside.” “Now hang on Rev…” “Boss! Look at this!” Jasek blurted out.

Rev leaned over to look at the screen. There was a virtual map being processed and visualized in real-time.

“This is impossible…”

“That’s not the only weird thing, boss. Check out the support structure.”

“It’s missing. How is the building even standing?”

“The rooms too. Maybe of them are overlapping or on the wrong floor.” Jasek added.

“How is that possible?” Dusman asked.

“The scanner isn’t detecting any people either.” Rev said. “Jasek, is there any kind of extraneous data present?”

“Yes, there seems to be a dense mass according to these numbers. On the uppermost floor. The penthouse suite.”

“I’m going in.”

“Rev now hold on for a minute…”

“Deputy Director, you said to pull out all the stops. People are also trapped inside. I don’t see many options.” Rev took off his blazer and handed it over to Jasek. “We know precisely where the source of the anomaly is. We don’t know what it is. That’s where I come in. You know I prefer doing things hands-on.”

Dusman nodded his approval.

“Jasek, I doubt we’ll be able to communicate but keep pinging my cell and radio every five minutes. There might be a soft spot in there somewhere.”

“Be careful, boss.”

Rev walked up to the lobby doors. The handles looked like the shell of a hermit crab. When he reached out to pull a handle, an aperture opened. A huge claw snapped at his fingers. Rev jumped back. A crab the size of a dog flew out. It landed on the ground behind Rev. The crab was fast. It rushed at him. Its pincers were big enough to sever a limb. Rev slammed a door behind him. The hum of sirens, radios, and voices outside ceased. No sounds from the outside.

The entire lobby was plastered with colorful stalagmites and stalactites. It looked like an underground cave with a disco flair. A single lightbulb flickered on the ceiling. It was covered in a sticky substance that dripped down onto the floor and sprouted into geodes. The geodes cracked open like eggs as they hit the hard surface. Miniature birds escaped from the inside. The birds flew out and disappeared into wisps of smoke. An elevator door slid open further down the lobby. Rev walked up to it. On the elevator’s inside, the top half of the cabin was filled with water. The floor of the empty, lower half was covered in a rich patch of grass. A fat rabbit sat in the corner; its mouth was stuffed.

“Anyone there? Please, anyone!” It was a man’s voice.

Rev ran down the corridor and knocked on one of the apartment doors.

“Hello? My name is Rev Soto. I’m with the police. Are you okay?”

The apartment door was open. Rev took a step inside.

“Hey there!” The voice answered.

“Where are you?” Rev looked around.

“Up here!”

Rev threw his head back. A man was on the ceiling.

“Weren’t expecting it?” The man chuckled loudly, but his face was red and wet. “Tell me, please I’m imagining all this and I’m not up here? I think this is what it feels like going bonkers. I mean I read about it, but I never thought it would happen to me.”

“Sir, I can imagine how difficult it might be to stay calm in a situation like this, but can you tell me what happened?”

“I can’t be of much help. One minute I was making pancakes and the next I was up here all warm and furry.”

“Warm and furry?” Rev looked closer at the man. His body was covered in thick fur.

“You see it now, don’t you? My hamster Baboo was right next to me when it happened. I ate so many pancakes, I feel sick but all I can think about is food.”

Rev glanced at his map.

“Sir, I’m going to find out what happened. Please stay where you are. If you move too far from that spot, you might fall.”

Rev continued down the hallway. A faint blue light at the end of it caught his eye. He took the stairs up. As he skipped steps to reach the next floor faster, he stopped to look at the numbers.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Rev squinted. “I went up only a single flight of stairs and I’m on the eighth floor?”

The eight-floor was covered in tropical vines, leafy bushes, exotic flowers and insects of all kinds. Rev looked up. A clear blue sky and a bright sun spread out as far as the eye could see. Birds flew in from above and perched on tree branches that stuck out from the walls. Apartment doors bolted out of their frames to switch places and fought each other for a spot. Parts of the floor were neatly cut up and looked like a chessboard. The dark parts looked like bottomless pits. Rev moved along the lighter squares to avoid stepping on the pitch-black emptiness. A door at the of the hallway lit up in a faint blue light. Rev avoided the hissing snakes that slithered along the walls. As he dodged a door that nearly took his head off, his phone slipped out and dropped into one of the pits. As the device passed the edge of the pit it instantly disassembled into its parts. Rev looked up again. A huge blood-red moon dwarfed everything on the horizon. Grey clouds sailed along the night sky.

Rev reached the door and entered. There were no walls in this room, only darkness along its fringes. A patch of grass and a rabbit were the only things present. Their spot was illuminated by an unknown source of light.

“The same rabbit?” Rev said out loud to himself.

“You are incorrect. This rabbit is another version of the same rabbit you encountered in the elevating device, but not the same rabbit.” An invisible voice answered him.

“Who’s there?” Rev shook his head.

“Before I answer your inquiry, I believe it would be pertinent to appear in a form you can perceive on the visual spectrum.”

Bright blue dots appeared. They looked like stars in the night sky and hovered around like fireflies. Each dot floated into a specific point in space to form a constellation. Streaks of light shot out from each dot and connected them to create a humanoid shape. The iridescent being had a voice that sounded like a dusty, scratched up vinyl record.

“Greetings. My name is Eo.”

Rev blinked wildly and patted himself on the head.

“Eo. I have so many questions, but I have to be practical.” Rev said. “Can you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“You do not wish to start with an inquiry into my identity?” Eo’s face was made up of intersecting lines of light. They formed a sort of shoddy cross. The kind of outline drawn when sketching a character. Extra dots appeared and created a child-like drawing of a sad face.

“Is that a look of disappointment?” Rev asked.

“Indeed. I was under the impression you humans placed a high value on introductions.” Eo pointed at Rev with a holographic arm.

“Well I apologize, but the context of our meeting warrants some urgency. Let me start differently then.” Rev took a deep breath. “My name is Rev Soto and I’m…”

“I am aware of who you are and your situation human. You may cease your explanation.” Eo’s face displayed a sinister smile.

“Why you devious son of a chandelier.” Rev gestured with a fist.

“I am still processing the nuances of human speech and the subtleties of this dimension. This includes the rules of social interaction.”

“You seem to be a quick learner on how to make someone angry. Who are you anyway?” Rev crossed his arms.

“I am an Ulxa. We are beings that exist on another plane of existence. It is far beyond human comprehension.”

“Did you cause this anomaly?”

“One of my siblings was careless during playtime and dropped sand into your dimension. He was scolded, but the damage had to be contained. I am here to retrieve the sand and return it home.”

“Sand?”

“Yes, that is the best analogy to describe it within the framework of your understanding. It is a special kind of exotic matter. It appears as the same kind of sand you find on a beach, except this sand does not reflect any light and can alter the forces governing this universe.”

“This sand can bend the laws of physics?”

“Quite so.”

“Why did it end up here inside a building in Toronto of all places?”

“That is a factor I have yet to determine.”

“Once you retrieve it, will all this return to normal?” Rev spread out his arms.

“Yes, however, any biological damage sustained will be irreversible.”

“I’m coming with you to get it.”

Rev took a step towards Eo.

Eo’s face lit up with a broken frown.

“I cannot allow you to accompany me. The danger to your feeble vessel could be substantial.”

“Look Eo. Do you accept responsibility for all this?”

“I do.” Eo lowered its holographic head.

“Then you’ll make up for it by taking me along for the ride.”

“May I ask why you have a strong desire to put yourself at risk?”

“Part out of duty. Part out of curiosity. And you don’t meet an Ulxa such as yourself very often.”

“Very well.”

“Lead the way.” Rev gestured for Eo to take the lead.

Eo simulated the motions of walking, but they were far from convincing. Rev followed close behind. The Ulxa wobbled over to the patch of grass in the center of the room. “Pull the rabbit by the left ear and twist it counter-clockwise.”

Rev stood at the edge of the grass.

“Can you please explain to me what the rabbit has to do with all this?”

“To you, this rabbit looks and acts like a rabbit, but it is not a rabbit.”

“What is it then?”

“It is a quantum key.”

“A what?”

“A quantum key allows you to access a specific probability outcome. The exact one you need to obtain a required value.”

“Why do we need this quantum key?”

“We need to reach the uppermost floor where the sand is, but the sand has muddled the path to its true location. There are now infinite paths but only one that is correct. The trick is knowing how to properly use the quantum key. If the key is used incorrectly, we will end up on another path and unable to ever return to our initial starting point.”

“That would mean we would be trapped forever in a formless void?”

“Correction. You would end up trapped. I would be able to escape.”

“Thanks for the reassurance.”

“As an Ulxa I can see this quantum key in its true form and how to properly use it. To access the path we require, you must follow my instructions.”

“Fine, but why can’t you do it?” Rev threw a sly look at Eo. “I have a feeling you need my help, but don’t want to admit that you need it.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot directly interface with anything in this dimension, other than the sand from my home.” Eo made a visual display of a heavy sigh. “This rabbit you see is a by-product of the sand, but it has manifested into physical form as dictated by the forces of this dimension.”

“I see, so you do need my help after all.” Rev grabbed the rabbit’s ear, pulled and twisted.

A series of translucent blocks, like something out of a Tetris game, dropped in from above and landed beside them.

“Up we go then.” Rev released the rabbit’s ear.

“Yes, up.” Eo said.

Human and Ulxa moved up the staircase. Eo’s moved like a cheaply coded video game character. The holographic appendages made the proper motions, but without the crisp interaction with any obstacles in encountered.

“You know for an advanced being from another dimension, you look pretty awkward right now. If this wasn’t such a serious mind-bending situation, I’d enjoy a laugh at your expense.”

“It seems my imitation of bipedal movement is lacking. I have much to learn.”

“You’re going to stay in our world?”

“That is out of the question Rev. After retrieving the sand, I must return home.”

“Us humans would love to learn more about the Ulxa and your dimension.”

“It is forbidden for us to linger unless there are extenuating circumstances. We Ulxa have rules, just as your society does. There are reasons for this.”

“Yeah, otherwise magic rabbits start popping up.”

“A simple yet accurate summarization of my point.”

Once they reached a plateau the stairs dropped out of sight.

“Is that a microwave?” Rev pointed.

“Yet another quantum key. The correct combination of digits is required.” “What do I punch in?” Rev readied his finger.

“314. Press the start button four times. Pause. Then once. Pause. Then three times. And then say “lickedy splikity”.

Rev punched in the code sequence and paused.

“You’re kidding about the last phrase, aren’t you?”

“You are more astute than I anticipated.” Eo displayed a weak smile.

“Why you duplicitous walking talking candelabrum…”

A tall, wide wooden archway landed in front of them.

On the other end of the archway, Eo and Rev found themselves in the upper-level penthouse. The rooms were decorated with animal skins, expensive paintings, stylized furniture, and large windows.

“If the sand is here, then why does this look like the most normal place in the entire building?”

“Please step away from that substance!” Eo exclaimed.

Rev turned towards the direction Eo shouted. A woman stood by a coffee table in the open living room. Her long hair was tied into a neat ponytail. Each golden strand looked like a whip about to lash out with deadly precision. She wore a tanned welder’s jacket. There was a compact satchel on her back. Her eyes countered Rev’s fiery amber with an imposing icy sapphire. There was a mound of black sand on the surface of the table. She had a mason jar in one hand and a ladle in the other. She was using the ladle to scoop up sand into the jar.

“Ma’am, I’m with the police and I would advise you not to touch that sand.”

“What a surprise.” She raised the ladle and faced Rev and Eo. “A fellow human. Boring. A real Ulxa. Fascinating. I never thought I would meet one.”

“Who are you?” Rev asked.

“I would also like that question answered.” Eo concurred.

“My name is Kala Ornesse. I doubt that will satisfy your curiosity but regrettably, I am pressed for time. So, I’ll be blunt. I am taking all this exotic matter you call sand. If you try to stop me, you will regret it.”

Kala resumed scooping up the sand into her jar.

“Wait, why are you doing this?” Rev said.

“This exotic matter is a blessing. With it, I will turn this universe into my sandbox and ascend to a higher plane of existence. I will shed this decaying flesh with all its shortcomings even if Earth itself must be sacrificed. Does my explanation answer all your questions?”

Rev acted. He leaped over a leather sofa towards Kala.

Kala swung the ladle in Rev’s direction and flicked a grain of sand at him.

“Rev! Cease. Halt. Stop!” Eo shouted. “If that sand should touch you, you will become…um…spaghetti with tomato sauce?”

“Damn it.” Rev tried to dodge, but it was too late to change direction. He fell.

Eo materialized next to Rev in the blink of an eye. The Ulxa grabbed the grain of sand.

“How?” Rev looked up at Eo.

“My form is comprised of light energy. Consequently, I can move at the speed of light in this dimension on a whim. Moving slower is merely a courtesy.”

Kala poured in the last handful of sand into the jar. She retreated.

“A shame that I cannot study your Ulxa companion in more depth, but this sand will make up for the lost opportunity. Goodbye.”

Kala climbed into a refrigerator and closed the door behind her. Rev sprinted over to reopen it.

“She’s gone.”

“That kitchen apparatus was another quantum key. I am impressed she was able to manipulate it successfully. I am also impressed she devised a storage device for the sand and a reliable extraction tool.”

“The question is how she was able to do all this. By herself.”

“I am afraid I must trouble you with a request, Rev.”

“What is it Eo?”

“The situation has been exacerbated due to Kala’s actions. I must prolong my stay here in your dimension. I will also require your assistance to retrieve the remaining sand.”

“That’s in my world’s interest, so I’m on board, but explaining all this to my superior will take some doing.”

“Once more I must apologize for the inconvenience caused by my sibling, but this Kala must be stopped with great haste.”

“What can she do with it?”

“Considering the level of intelligence and resourcefulness needed for her aforementioned deeds here today, the question posed should be what can she not do with it.”

“She can transcend her existence?”

“It will take time and experimentation, but with her advanced level it may be possible.”

“It’s the experimentation part I’m afraid of.”

“Come in, boss. This is home base. Please respond.” It was Jasek’s voice on the radio.

“Jasek, come in. This is Rev. Can you hear me?”

“Roger, boss. This is Jasek. What’s the situation?”

“Jasek hang on for a minute.”

Rev turned to Eo.

“How is the situation here going to play out?”

“Now that the sand is safely contained, its effects in this area will immediately cease. All will revert to normalcy, except for any resulting biological abnormalities.”

“Jasek, come in. Put the Deputy Director on.”

“This is Dusman. What’s the status, Rev?”

“The source of the anomaly has been neutralized. It’s now safe. You should get a medical team in here pronto. Our people only. I repeat our people only.”

“Roger. Giving the order now. Get over here Rev so you can explain what went down in there. The media is giving me a headache.”

“Give me five.”

Eo hovered around Rev.

“Rev, I will conceal my presence by cloaking your body. It will be what you refer to as an aura. This way, I can follow and appear you should the need arise.”

“Eo, won’t people become suspicious if I glow in the dark?”

“I will not emanate any light when I am an aura. I will be an undetectable energy field. Your body will not be damaged by this energy.”

“As long as I get to keep my privacy.” Rev mumbled.

Eo’s blue light diffused and engulfed Rev like a cloak and then disappeared without a trace. Rev headed towards the penthouse elevator and pressed the down button.

“We’re coming after you, Kala Ornesse.”

To be continued…

Thank you for reading! I wrote the first episode of Sandbox with great ambitions, but humble expectations. This first episode is like a TV show pilot. I hope you enjoyed it. Please vote, comment or share the story.

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[delgadolibrary-blog]

A touch of nature to start your weekend

If you feel like spring just hasn’t quite sprung, yet, and winter just won’t leave us alone, I’ve gathered some poetry on nature and the beauty in the natural world from the Delgado Libraries catalog. Let these books bring a little spring to your weekend.

Dawn Light: Dancing With Cranes and Other Ways to Start the Day, Diane Ackerman

W.W. Norton & Co., 2009 City Park Campus Library /  508.2 A18d In an eye-opening sequence of personal meditations through the cycle of seasons, Diane Ackerman awakens us to the world at dawn--drawing on sources as diverse as meteorology, world religion, etymology, art history, poetry, organic farming, and beekeeping. As a patient and learned observer of animal and human physiology and behavior, she introduces us to varieties of bird music and other signs of avian intelligence, while she herself "migrates" from winter in Florida to spring, summer, and fall in upstate New York.Humans might luxuriate in the idea of being "in" nature, Ackerman points out, but we often forget that we are nature--for "no facet of nature is as unlikely as we, the tiny bipeds with the giant dreams." Joining science's devotion to detail with religion's appreciation of the sublime, Dawn Light is an impassioned celebration of the miracles of evolution--especially human consciousness of our numbered days on a turning

S an editor at English Wikipedia [GFDL or CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Smith Blue, Camille T. Dungy Southern Illinois University Press, 2011 Online Collection / 811.6  In Smith Blue, Camille T. Dungy offers a survival guide for the modern heart as she takes on twenty-first-century questions of love, loss, and nature. From a myriad of lenses, these poems examine the human capability for perseverance in the wake of heartbreak; the loss of beloved heroes and landscapes; and our determination in the face of everyday struggles. Dungy explores the dual nature of our presence on the planet, juxtaposing the devastation caused by human habitation with our own vulnerability to the capricious whims of our environment. In doing so, she reveals with fury and tenderness the countless ways in which we both create and are victims of catastrophe.This searing collection delves into the most intimate transformations wrought by our ever-shifting personal, cultural, and physical terrains, each fraught with both disillusionment and hope. In the end, Dungy demonstrates how we are all intertwined, regardless of race or species, living and loving as best we are able in the shadows of both man-made and natural follies.

Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry, Camille T. Dungy, Editor University of Georgia Press, 2009 City Park Campus Library /  808.81936 B62 This book presents the natural world seen through the eyes of black poets. ""Black Nature"" is the first anthology to focus on nature writing by African American poets, a genre that until now has not commonly been counted as one in which African American poets have participated. Black poets have a long tradition of incorporating treatments of the natural world into their work, but it is often read as political, historical, or protest poetry - anything but nature poetry. This is particularly true when the definition of what constitutes nature writing is limited to work about the pastoral or the wild. Camille T. Dungy has selected 180 poems from 93 poets that provide unique perspectives on American social and literary history to broaden our concept of nature poetry and African American poetics. This collection features major writers, such as Phillis Wheatley, Rita Dove, Yusef Komunyakaa, Gwendolyn Brooks, Sterling Brown, Robert Hayden, Wanda Coleman, Natasha Trethewey, and Melvin B. Tolson, as well as newer talents, such as Douglas Kearney, Major Jackson, and Janice Harrington. Included are poets writing out of slavery, Reconstruction, the Harlem Renaissance, the Black Arts Movement, and late twentieth- and early twenty-first-century African American poetic movements. ""Black Nature"" brings to the fore a neglected and vital means of considering poetry by African Americans and nature-related poetry as a whole.

William Wordsworth Oxford University Press, 2010 Online Collection /  821.7 The Wordsworth volume in the 21st-Century Oxford Authors series is the most comprehensive selection currently available of the poetry and prose of one of the finest poets in the English language. The familiar poems from Wordsworth's'Great Decade'are all included, but they are complemented by a more than usually generous selection of the best poems from his later years. The extracts from the Guide to the Lakes will be a revelation to many readers, as will the political prose of the Convention of Cintra. All of the material is presented in chronological sequence, so that the reader can see how Wordsworth's changing concerns were expressed in prose as well as poetry. Work which Wordsworth published is separated from that which he did not reveal, which will enable the reader to trace through successive published volumes the development of Wordsworth's public poetic self, while also being able to follow the growth of the body of poetry which, for whatever reason, Wordsworth did not choose to make public when it was written - The Prelude being the greatest and most obvious example.

The Complete Poems of John Keats, John Keats Modern Library, 1994 Sidney Collier Library /  821.7 K25c 'I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death,' John Keats soberly prophesied in 1818 as he started writing the blankverse epic Hyperion. Today he endures as the archetypal Romantic genius who explored the limits of the imagination and celebrated the pleasures of the senses but suffered a tragic early death. Edmund Wilson counted him as 'one of the half dozen greatest English writers,' and T. S. Eliot has paid tribute to the Shakespearean quality of Keats's greatness. Indeed, his work has survived better than that of any of his contemporaries the devaluation of Romantic poetry that began early in this century. This Modern Library edition contains all of Keats's magnificent verse: 'Lamia,' 'Isabella,' and 'The Eve of St. Agnes'; his sonnets and odes; the allegorical romance Endymion; and the five-act poetic tragedy Otho the Great. Presented as well are the famous posthumous and fugitive poems, including the fragmentary 'The Eve of Saint Mark' and the great 'La Belle Dame sans Merci,' perhaps the most distinguished literary ballad in the language. 'No one else in English poetry, save Shakespeare, has in expression quite the fascinating felicity of Keats, his perception of loveliness,' said Matthew Arnold. 'In the faculty of naturalistic interpretation, in what we call natural magic, he ranks with Shakespeare.'

The 64 Sonnets, John Keats Paul Dry Books, 2004 City Park Campus Library /  821.7 K25si John Keats is among the greatest English poets. (He himself imagined he would be counted so!) For some readers, his odes define the essence of poetry. We also discover in Keats a great composer of sonnets. Here, for the first time published in a separate edition, are all sixty-four sonnets, the first written when Keats was eighteen, the last just five years later. Reading these poems, you'll experience the wonder of Keats's growing poetic powers; you'll feel the "shock of recognition" when you come upon the great ones. Presented with an introduction by Edward Hirsch, and accompanying explanatory notes, the sonnets stand out as a triumph of their own.

Selected Poems, Samuel Taylor Coleridge Penguin, 1996 City Park Campus Library /  821.7 C69s Living in a revolutionary age, Coleridge's poetry was written in a spirit of moral and emotional inquiry into the absolutes of the human condition. He is best known for his visionary poetry ('Kubla Khan') and his ballads ('The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'), but he used and transformed a variety of verse forms, from the sonnet to the conversation poem, on subjects as diverse as nature, love, and politics. This selection calls attention to the range of Coleridge's work, its strong autobiographical content,and its artistic development throughout his career. The old chronological form has been abandoned and the poems are organised according to genre, with each section displaying its own individual development in craft and theme.