#.knock the deck ; promo.

[dimensionalspades]

OOC tags

[yamujiburo]

OK SO I HAVE TO ASK

I play competitive Pokemon TCG and I loved path to the peak. Lot of competitive players do! I've come up with tons of jokes imagining our Pokemon on a battle field like the cartoon, like a bidoof knocking out a Charizard ex (or trying to).

But my main question here is if you can answer, did they tell you cards before release? The oddish promo for league is a given sure, but I noticed some of the cards wouldn't be out by the time you likely started the process. I realized this when I thought of the fact animation (another thing I love) takes a long time from A to B! And if they did let you see cards early what did that feel like?

Idk why but I've been following a while and it's been itching my brain! I realized I could try and ask!

We had a TCG consultant who laid out decks and existing cards for us to use that would make sense but there were a few where we could just make up our own cards! But they didn’t tell us any of the new releases while we were working on it in 2022

I’m sure the design teams were more involved with that stuff after we (the boarding teams) were offboarded tho!

[anotherwvba]

Finding Your Place, pt. 2

The intense lights of the WVBA Studios cast a bright halo around Sahara Sands. She stood confidently in the center of the room, fists clenched inside her bright yellow gloves. It was photo day, the day when all the promo pictures and videos for the upcoming card were shot. Some of the boxers loved it, a chance to be in front of the cameras and show-off. Others found it tedious, a necessary evil between them and the ring. Sahara was definitely the former.

She was decked out in her new blue and yellow ring gear, colors she picked for her new ring name. Razor Sharp. It was a tribute to her father’s beginnings in the sport, long before he was called Mr. Sandman. He was Tyrone “The Razor” Sands, a boxer so good that the establishment could deny him… until they did.

Things in the sport were different now. Now, the league that her father was a founding member of wasn’t a renegade outfit, it’s the major leagues. No doubt, the WVBA was still boxing’s isle of misfit toys in many ways, but now there were plenty of boxers around the world that saw the WVBA as their life’s goal, not their last resort.

Again, Sahara… Razor was the former. She worked her whole life to this point, first as an amateur, then turning pro. She fought in bingo halls and bars, wherever she could get a match. She wanted to earn her way into the WVBA, not get in on her father’s name. Twelve wins and eight knockouts later and here she was, taking promo pics for her WVBA debut.

Razor owned the room. She was in her stance with a look on her face that promised pain as the photographer flitted around her. The sounds of shutter snaps were interspersed with mutters of “nice” and “perfect” in a light British accent.

Colbi Shutters, a more appropriate name for a photographer you’d never find, moved to change the lens on her camera for the next series of shots. “Alright, Razor, for this next batch, let’s get confidence. Like you just know you’re winning.”

“Girl,” Razor popped her hip, resting one glove on it as she held the other loosely by her chin, “what do you mean like I know?”

“That’s what I’m talking about, sunshine,” Colbi smiled, snapping her new lens in place. “Did you catch Luna’s stream this morning? She was talking some mad shite.”

Razor laughed as she shifted to another pose, “Little girl thinks she’s got hands ‘cause she’s got three wins against YouTuber’s and Instagram models. She’ll learn.”

Colbi smiled as moved through various angles, “Show me. Give some fierce action shots, but like, pause at the end of each punch.”

“Fierce is what I do,” Razor shifted into her boxing stance, bouncing and glaring down the lens. “Luna’s gonna see. She thinks she can outlast me. Me? I mean, for real. Razor Sharp’s not just a name, it’s a warning. She act like she don’t know, but she will.”

The intensity gave Colbi a moment of pause. “Um, love? This is starting to sound a mite personal.”

Razor’s face softened into a sly smile, “You wanted fierce, remember? But, naw, it ain’t personal. Look, I ain’t gonna hate on a girl for her hustle, and Luna’s got plenty of hustle. There’s a reason she’s got the following she’s got. Hard. Work. Period. But, this is my world and I got a job to do.”

Shifting seamlessly back into fight mode, Razor threw an uppercut just shy of Colbi’s camera lens, stopping so the photographer could get a shot as if on the receiving end, “And that job’s to put these gloves on that girl and that girl on her ass. Her Luna-tics are gonna see their girl starched and ain’t nothin’ she can do.”

“Nice! Oh, let’s get a few like you’ve just knocked her down.” Colbi laid down on the floor, framing her shot.

Razor set her stance, pointing her right fist straight toward the camera lens with a menacing smirk, “Out. You mean to say ‘knocked her out.’ When a Sands lays you down, you go to sleep.”

“You are right and truly up for this, aren’t you?” Colbi smiled, shutter clicking away. “Uh, gimme another pose.”

“This good?” Razor shifted to look like she was walking away and giving her foe an intimidating glance. Colbi nodded as Razor struck the pose. “And yeah, girl. I’m so ready. I mean, I’ve had thirteen pro fights, but this just hits different. You know? People gonna look at me and have their doubts. They gonna think I’m a nepo hire. ‘Her daddy’s a legend, that’s how she got in.’ I’mma shut that down before it starts. Just sucks for Luna. Girl ain’t my opponent. She’s my proof.”

Just as Colbi and Razor found their rhythm, the door to the studio burst open, sounding like a gunshot. The light, playful energy of the shoot vanished. Replacing it was a voice that sent ice water through Razor’s veins.

“Yo! Let’s get this over with.” The Sandman, Andre Sands, walked in oblivious to everyone and everything. He was in his signature black ring gear, gloves in hand. “I gotta get back in the gym. Ain’t like Don Flamenco’s got a chance, but I wanna embarrass that fool. Bull needs to know who’s comin’ for him.”

Sandman, booming voice and all, slid his gloves on as he scanned the room. He first saw Colbi picking herself up from the floor, then he saw Razor… and passed her, taking in the rest of the room. The dismissive smirk on his face made Razor’s fists instinctively clench tight in her gloves.

“Andre,” Razor’s voice lost all humor as she fixed a hard glare on her brother.

His name, his real name, brought Sandman’s eyes shooting back to Razor. The look on his face was familiar to the younger sister. Contempt. Lifting an eyebrow and tilting his head, Sandman’s smirk returned, “Sahara, didn’t see ya’ there. And, you know better. It’s Sandman.”

“Sandman is our father, not you,” Sahara held his gaze, no reservation, no fear. “You? You’re just Andre and you’re early. This is my studio time.”

“Get out.” Andre’s jaw flexed. His eyes darkened. He never looked away from Razor for an instant. “I didn’t stutter. Leave. Now!”

Colbi, shaking slightly, looked to Razor, unsure of what was even going on, much less what to do.

“You good, girl.” Razor, like her brother, never shifted her eyes away. But, her voice was calm and reassuring as she addressed Colbi. “This won’t take long. We can wrap up in a minute.”

As Colbi quickly gathered her things and scurried out while the Sands siblings continued their staredown. The door closing behind the photographer did nothing to ease the tension in the room.

“Aight, big bro,” Razor stepped closer to her brother, voice low, tapping her gloves together with clear intent. “You ran Colbi outta here. You want somethin’?”

“Little girl,” Sandman looked down at his sister with hard eyes and a menacing sneer. “You don’t want the smoke. Step off.”

“Make me.” Razor popped her gloves together again, loud and deliberate.

Sandman chuckled softly and shook his head.

“Andre,” Razor’s voice was clear. Her patience was running thin. “You know when your shoot starts and you know who’s ahead of you in the studio. So… What. Do. You. Want.”

“I told you what I want, Sahara,” Sandman, too, dropped all pretense. “Did you think I was talking to the photog? Get out. Get out of the WVBA. Go back to your bar cards and your state fairs and wherever else they willing to let you fight. Just stay out of my ring.”

Now, It was Razor’s turn to chuckle, “I get it, bro. You scared. You scared that people gonna see me and see our legacy. Our family. What we mean to this sport. What our dad…”

“Our dad ain’t shit!” Andre’s voice no doubt boomed beyond the studio walls. “Tyrone Sands is a washed up, punch drunk, bitter old man that ain’t got the grace to walk away and I don’t need nobody reminding the world of who he was, especially his prized little princess.”

“And there it is,” Razor sounded so disappointed. “You hate dad, don’t you? The man that raised us, made sure we wanted for nothing. He could’ve kept fighting when the WVBA closed up the first time. He was in his prime. But, he walked away, for family. For us. For you.”

Sandman’s jaw clenched as his gaze dropped to the floor, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then what I said before stands,” Razor’s voice picked up a warmth with her brother’s reaction. She reached out with her glove and raised her brother’s chin, meeting his eyes again. “Make me. Please.”

For a moment, a long moment, they stood there. Their eyes locked. There were no ring names, no personas. For a moment, they were just Andre and Sahara, the oldest and youngest children of five children. The moment passed.

“I ain’t got time for this,” Sandman turned to go to the door.

As his back turned, Razor’s resolve hardened, “You can tell me or I can tell you. How you want it?”

Sandman stopped, but didn’t turn around. “You gonna tell me what?”

“Dad failed you on your pro test.” Razor’s voice was flat, matter of fact.

In one quick, angry move, Sandman wheeled on his sister, closed distance, right hand cocked, aimed at her jaw. “Who the hell told you that?! Answer me, girl, or so help me…”

“Or what?!” Her guard shot up, body coiled, muscles tensed, ready for anything. “What Andre? We gonna go?”

Razor stood her ground and her brother suddenly realized who he had raised his fist to. He lowered his hand. His face softened, slightly, but the anger was just below the surface. “I ain’t never told that to anybody.”

“Dad told me.” Razor lowered her guard as her brother’s fist lowered. “He was one of the judges for you to get into the WVBA when it reopened. He didn’t think you were ready.”

“He was scared I’d overtake his legacy,” Sandman spat.

“He was scared you’d get hurt, dumbass,” Razor spat back.

Sandman’s expression was a cocktail of confusion, anger, and disbelief.

“Look,” Razor started moving around the room. She was getting restless and needed to move, but her eyes never left for brother. “You walked into that pro test 22 and 0 with 18 knockouts. Everyone thought you were in.”

“All except a bitter old man.” Sandman folded his arms across his chest.

“All except a concerned father,” Razor stopped and mirrored her brother’s resting posture. “No one there had fought in the WVBA except dad. He knew. He knew you could rule this league, just not then. That’s all. He fought 450 pound ex-sumo, brawling Texan bull riders, and drunk Russian bar bouncers. And it damn sure ain’t gotten any easier.”

“Says the girl that’s fighting a Twitch streamer.” Sandman’s snark was unmistakable.

Razor chuckled, “A Twitch streamer that would run my ass ragged if she had any more experience. See, that’s the difference. I see game and recognize it. You see game and rag on it. You’re damn good, big bro, but you think you way better than you are.”

“Ain’t nobody better than me, baby sis,” Sandman smirked. “And it ain’t that I see game and don’t recognize it. It’s that I see chumps that call themselves champs and I’m gonna put ‘em all to sleep. Then, the only Sandman anybody’s gonna remember is me. Not the jealous has-been that tried to hold his own blood back.”

“And that’s the difference between you and dad,” Razor’s gaze turned to stone. “Flamenco can beat you. Bald Bull gave dad trouble in his prime. And yeah, Bull’s older, but he’s a better boxer than when he fought dad. Dad respected every opponent. You don’t.”

“Respect don’t win fights,” Sandman raised his gloves up. “These do.”

“These don’t lose fights,” Razor raised her own gloves. “Disrespect does.”

“Man,” Sandman shook his head, frustration mounting. He started pulling his gloves off and again turned to leave, “I ain’t got time for this. I got work to do.”

As Sandman turned to leave, Razor smiled. She won this round, but she couldn’t resist one more jab. “You know, bro, funny thing about you taking dad’s name. The people, the fans, his fellow fighters, they gave dad the name Sandman. He didn’t have to give it to himself.”

Sandman’s posture stiffened for a moment, but without a backward glance or another word, he left.

Colbi Shutters is an OC belonging to @cyrah-is-cool101 and is used with permission.

[pokemon-card-of-the-day]

Pokemon Card of the Day Schedule: Team Up

Team Up was one of the more important sets the game had seen. It brought a new concept to the game: Pokemon that gave up 3 Prizes when Knocked Out. These new Pokemon were Tag Team Pokemon, which were always Basic Pokemon that had huge stats, strong attacks, and featured 2-3 Pokemon on the card. Despite giving up half a game worth of Prizes, Tag Team Pokemon immediately reached the top of the game, and became the focus of a large number of decks for a long time. One in this set, Pikachu & Zekrom-GX, was even good for quite a while after the next generation of cards came out. This was also the first set to be legal through the first half of 2021, so there was plenty of time to make an impact.

While the Tag Teams (mostly Pikachu & Zekrom-GX, though some like Eevee & Snorlax and Gengar & Mimikyu had roles as well) got the spotlight, the set was not lacking for other types of cards. Zapdos was the star of its own deck for a while despite being a single Prize Basic Pokemon, and Tapu Koko Prism star helped make this the second straight set to really boost Lightning as a type. Control decks found help with Pidgeotto and occasionally even Zebstrika, and Jirachi was one of the best set-up Pokemon the game had ever seen. There were also a few good Trainers in the mix, making Team Up a very notable set even beyond the new gimmick it brought to the game.

Celebi & Venusaur-GX Beedrill Shaymin Prism Star Charizard Ninetales Blastoise Gyarados Lapras Articuno Pikachu & Zekrom-GX Zapdos Ampharos-GX Zebstrika Emolga Tapu Koko Prism Star Gengar & Mimikyu-GX Mr. Mime Mr. Mime-GX Jynx Hitmonlee Hitmonchan Omastar Kabutops Lycanroc-GX Alolan Grimer Alolan Muk Absol Yveltal Hoopa-GX Incineroar-GX Skarmory Jirachi Bronzong Cobalion-GX Doublade Aegislash Alolan Ninetales Mimikyu Latias & Latios-GX Alolan Exeggutor #114 Alolan Exeggutor #115 Dragonite Eevee & Snorlax-GX Pidgeotto Pidgeot Persian Farfetch'd Aerodactyl Bill's Analysis Black Market Prism Star Brock's Grit Buff Padding Dangerous Drill Electrocharger Erika's Hospitality Fairy Charm UB Grass Memory (and Water Memory) Ingo & Emmet Judge Whistle Lavender Town Metal Goggles Morgan Nanu Pokemon Communication Viridian Forest Wondrous Labyrinth Prism Star

Promos 158-169

Magikarp & Wailord-GX #166

[tekdecksmtg]

MTG Standard: Store Championship w/ ‘I’m All Ears!’

This past weekend I attended a couple of Store Champions where the textless Urza’s Saga was up for grabs. I didn’t expect to win that but was hoping to Top 8 and get the promo Shark Typhoon. Meanwhile all participants received a promo Monastery Swiftspear. While I had been using my bats deck at Standard events, I recently updated it to more of a mid-range deck and for some reason I preferred to roll out with my Rabbits deck and just have some fun and see if it could compete.

I’m not sure if I had updated it since I played last, but the deck I used on Day 1 was a follows:

The plan is simple: go wide and pump the squad for maximum pain. I added a couple of Haywire Mites in the main as there are just way too many enchantments and artifacts running around Standard.

Match 1: W 2-0 vs Boros Talent

I was fortunate in Game 1 to get both of my Haywire Mites out to blow up an Urabrask’s Forge and a Caretaker’s Talent so the opponent couldn’t get any momentum. Game 2 the additional enchantment removal from my Sideboard was key and my Warren Warleaders were able to build the board quickly even after Sunfall and Temporary Lockdown. The opponent was clearly surprised to have lost to me considering they used multiple board wipes.

Match 2: W 2-0 vs Domain Ramp

Great draws in both matches allowed me to get out quick and enchantment removal helped me free my creatures from Lockdowns and knock aside his Up the Beanstalks to keep him off pace.

Match 3: L 0-2 vs Domain Ramp

This match was the complete opposite of the last one. Game 1 I got wrecked by a Lockdown and valued out by two Up the Beanstalks, unable to find any interaction. Game 2 I was able to keep things even for a while to the point of us both top-decking. Just when I saw a little light with a multi-creature advantage, he drew an Atraxa, Grand Unifier and that was that.

Match 4: W 2-0 vs Golgari Midrange

Game 1 I had to get through two Liliana of the Veils and a Vraska, Betrayal’s Sting, but was able to get wide enough and activate my Restless Prairies for the win. Game 2 I was all over him from the jump, creature after creature into a really wide board. His targeted removal wasn’t enough as my Innkeeper’s Talent ward forced him into inefficient mana use when interacting with my creatures.

Match 5: Draw (Intentional) vs Golgari Midrange

Both of us were in position for a Top 8 finish so we agreed to draw and ensure we stayed there. We did play one game for fun which I won, giving me even more confidence in the deck since he was 3-0-1 at the time.

Overall I finished 3-1-1 (6-2-0 in games played) and took 4th Place out of 22 people.

I was crazy happy that my deck did so well, especially considering such strong deck competition. I got the promos I was hoping for and had a blast (though it was stressful as usual haha). While my deck performed well, I think I need even more enchantment removal main deck. My Case of the Gateway Express really did nothing so that can take a cut. My Virtue of Loyalty was equally irrelevant so I’ll probably look to remove that as well.

The 2nd day did not go nearly as well, so no need for an extensive recap. I finished 1-3-0 and clearly outside the Top 8 in 15th Place.

I think with a few refinements, this can be a viable deck as shown by the Day 1 performance; it rebounds quickly and with enough enchantment/artifact removal can compete as long as you can get wide.

[total-cards]

The next Pokemon TCG set, Scarlet & Violet - Stellar Crown, has just been announced!

Release Date and Set Details

New Pokémon ex and introducing Stellar Tera Pokémon

As with every new set, we can expect to see so many new Pokemon ex! We're already guaranteed to have Cinderace ex, Lapras ex, Galvantula ex and Terapagos ex as they're featured on the pack artwork (and Terapagos ex was revealed as part of Stellar Miracle).

The interesting thing about this set is we are being introduced to Stellar Tera Pokemon, which feature powerful attacks that cost different types of energy - three to be precise. Each attack is inspired by various gemstones, such as Terapagos ex's "Crown Opal" or "Larimar Rain" from Laprax ex.

Beautiful Illustrations

Scarlet & Violet - Stellar Crown also, as usual, features some of the most beautiful artwork within the TCG. With special illustration rare cards, your collection will look better than ever. Take the Elite Trainer Box promo card, for example. This Noctowl is not only a highly playable card (allowing you to search your deck for up to 2 Trainer cards, dependent on your cards in play), but it's also truly stunning! Not to mention, the Stellar Tera cards look like gemstones in themselves, we're really expecting Pokemon to have pulled out all the stops with the 7th set for Scarlet & Violet.

Trainer Cards and More

We're expecting to see so many new Trainer Cards, and ACE SPEC! As before, we've already gotten a glimpse of some upcoming cards we will hopefully receive in this set, such as Briar (You can play this card only if your opponent has exactly 2 Prize cards remaining. Until the end of this turn, if your opponent's Active Pokemon is Knocked Out by damage from 1 of your Tera Pokemon attacks, take 1 more prize card.) or the highly playable Sparkling Crystal (The attack cost of the Tera Pokemon this card is attached to is reduced by 1 of any type of Energy.) Arguably, one of the stand-out cards from this set could be Area Zero Underdepths, which increases your benched Pokemon to 8 from 5 if they have a Tera Pokemon in play!

Elite Trainer Box

A staple of almost every Pokemon set is the Elite Trainer Box. This is always the best and most efficient way for players both new and seasoned to get their hands on the latest set. An ETB comes with 9 packs of the titular set, 1 full-art foil promo card, 65 card sleeves featuring the artwork from the ETB and so much more! We expect this product to be highly popular due to the Noctowl promo card, so be sure to get your pre-orders in as soon as possible! The Stellar Crown Elite Trainer Box includes:

9 Pokémon TCG: Scarlet & Violet—Stellar Crown booster packs

1 full-art foil promo card featuring Noctowl

65 card sleeves featuring Terastal Form Terapagos

45 Pokémon TCG Energy cards

A player’s guide to the Stellar Crown expansion

6 damage-counter dice

1 competition-legal coin-flip die

2 plastic condition markers

A collector’s box to hold everything, with 4 dividers to keep it organized

A code card for Pokémon Trading Card Game Live

Pre-Order Now

Don’t miss out on this awesome set. Pre-order your packs and boxes now on Total Cards to make sure you get them first!

[jgroffdaily]

A promo video for the ‘Knock at the Cabin’ DVD includes a preview of the extended/deleted scenes, including a longer (and more affectionate) scene of Jonathan and Ben Aldridge on the deck.

[djmossback]

Spacebar 15 April 2023

620 W Idaho St, Boise, ID 83702

(THIRD SPACE SATURDAY)

(PICTURED) Bike, São Paulo Brazil. Track is BOCA DO SOL, from the QUARTO TEMPLO lp

2100 to 0100 0153

TASTING NOTES

My first Third Space Saturday in the new Spacebar, and it took me a minute to get situated. Even though I was there on 18 March on the opening weekend in the new digs, I was sharing the booth with DJ IGA, and collaborative sets unfold in different ways than solo sets. The way we do split sets is more fluid, and IGA’s presentations make me see and hear things differently, and changes my point of view. He is more technically proficient with the decks and mixer than I am, so his precision combined with my freewheeling sloppiness makes for an interesting listening experience. I didn’t share that set list here because it was a spring training game, and the results don’t count in the standings. It doesn’t matter what happens in March, the games start in April.

Truth of the matter: I forgot to take notes.

I have several records I use for an opener, but this night I wanted to do something different. I thought about opening with my newly acquired 12” of Amii Stewart Knock On Wood, but went with the Bowie instead. The extended mix has more saxophone, and the 12” mix kicks harder than the 7” I usually play, so I was pleased with that. I wanted to save Knock for later in the set.

I was having difficulty getting the volume and sound balance right, and it’s something I will have to keep working on.

I intended to throw Link Wray on, but chose Bill Justis Raunchy instead. Did I run out of time, or miscount the bands on the comp I was taking it from? I don’t know, but it worked.

The first half hour was shaky, in my opinion, but I am still kind of rusty, and it took a while for things to resemble a groove. I never plan out sets. I have records I bring, and construct the set from those records, and try to make something listenable out of it. I’m not there to inflict myself on an unsuspecting audience, I’m there to share, and to provide the vibe, to give people an enjoyable environment to relax in, be they patrons, or my colleagues in the bar, who are unbelievably supportive. I love seeing them nodding their heads as they do their job, because all of us who work, or have worked in the service industry know how oppressive bad vibes are.

I did include a couple of friends bands in the set. Sun Atoms, and Bike, who I both saw and met at Treefort. The bands sound great, at the festival, and on the record.

I went an extra hour because I didn’t know how to end it, and I was feeling it, and my brother by law came by late to hang. So, starting with the Pet Shop Boys, I brought things down a notch (for me,) and stayed away from super uptempo bangers.

I played a lot of records.

Next set is a short one, at the Record Store Day after party, Earth Day, 22nd April. Trying to craft an approach that’s different than my usual set.

I’ll bring a lot fewer records.

THE SONGS

David Bowie, Let’s Dance (12 inch mix)

Pointer Sisters, He’s So Shy (7”)

Bill Justis, Raunchy (LP)

Police, Message In A Bottle (7”)

Maytals, Monkey Man (LP)

Dazz Band, Let It Whip (7”)

Cameo, Back And Forth (12”)

GQ, Boogie Oogie Oogie (7”)

Billy Squier, Everybody Wants You (LP)

Judas Priest, Metal Gods (LP)

ZZ TOP, Sleeping Bag (12”, 45RPM extended mix)

J-Kwon, Tipsy (radio mix)

Beastie Boys, So Whatcha Want (LP track)

Soho, Hippy Chick (12” extended mix)

Shreikback, My Spine (Is The Baseline) (promo 12”)

Sun Atoms, Half Robot, Half Butterfly (LP track)

Wire, Ahead (12 45RPM)

Skee-Lo, I Wish (12” vocal)

Cheryl Lynn, Got To Be Real (7”)

Prince, I Wanna Be Your Lover (7”)

Bobby Brown, My Prerogative (7”)

Junior, Mama Used To Say (12” extended mix)

Cure, The Walk (ep cut)

Toto, Hold The Line (LP cut)

Nazareth, Hair Of The Dog (LP cut)

Amii Stewart, Knock On Wood (12” disco mix)

Bee Gees, Jive Talkin’ (7”)

PJ Harvey, Down By The River (7”)

Cramps, What’s Inside A Girl (12” 45RPM)

Stooges, Loose (LP cut)

Presidents Of The USA, Lump (LP cut)

Jay-Z, 99 Problems (LP cut)

Ruts, Out Of Order (LP cut)

Stanley Clarke, School Days (LP cut)

Thundercat, Them Changes (LP cut)

Kendrick Lamarr, Yah (LP cut)

Bob Vylan, Big Man (LP cut)

Dry Cleaning, Scratchcard Lanyard (7”)

Bob Seger, Ramblin’ Gamblin Man (LP cut)

Cyndi Lauper, Girls Just Want To Have Fun (7”)

Alan Jackson, Chattahoochie (7”)

Moon Mullican, 7 Nights To Rock (LP cut)

Sparkletones, Black Slacks (7”)

Otis & Carla, Tramp (7”)

Taste Of Honey, Rescue Me (LP cut)

Positive K, I Got A Man (12”)

Time, 777-9311 (LP cut)

B-52’s , 6060-842 (7”)

Tommy Tutone, 866-5309 (7”)

INXS, The One Thing (12”)

Joe Jackson, TV AGE (12”)

Orb, Little Fluffy Clouds (12”)

Human League, Human (12”)

Average White Band, Pick Up The Pieces (LP cut)

Rufus Thomas, Walking The Dog (7”)

Killing Joke, Follow The Leader (LP cut)

Malcolm McClaren, Double Dutch (12”)

Abbysinians, Declaration Of Rights (LP cut)

ZZ Top, Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers (LP cut)

Vince Staples, Big Fish (LP cut)

Bike, Boca do Sol (LP cut)

Zapp & Roger, Mega Mix (12”)

Pet Shop Boys, West End Girls (12”)

TLC, No Scrubs (12”)

Scritti Politti, Sweetest Girl (12”)

Herbie Hancock, Chameleon (LP cut)

Sade, Hang On To Your Love (12”)

Heatwave, Groove Line (7”)

Michael Jackson, Rock With You (7”)

Patrice Rushen, Forget Me Nots (7”)

Junior Murvin, Police & Thief (7”)

Next THIRD SPACE SATURDAY SET:

20 May, 2023

Special thanks go to Will for providing this awesome place for us to hang in. Thank you, my brother.

DIRECTIONS.

[chosetherose]

I’m still in awe at how much has happened since Red (Taylor’s Version) dropped. It was hard to keep up with everything in real time so I took a shot at putting together a list of links for reference. When you see it all in one place it’s really something. I’ve definitely missed a ton of great posts - please send me links to anything you think should be added and I’ll edit.

Late Night Appearances (11/11-12/21)

Black, white, and red all over @chosetherose

Red (Taylor’s Version) Is Released (11/12/21)

Swifties adopt “I miss her” instead of “I miss you” in TVFN @chosetherose

The All Too Well Short Film Is Released (11/12/21)

Playing card likely purposefully shown is a 7 of Spades; links to riddle calling for patience @spade-riddles + anon, @chosetherose, @chickawah23

The novel cover looks like an Alice in Wonderland book cover @chosetherose

TikTok explores film through Gaylor lense and makes interesting observations @chosetherose

Taylor channels her inner Wonka after Karlie shares golden ticket @milelarissa-blog

SNL Performances (11/13/21)

Promo photo calls back to the night Taylor met Karlie (11/13/13) @chosetherose

Set design calls back to the night Taylor met Karlie (11/13/13) @chosetherose

The IBYTAM Video Is Released (11/15/21)

The groom in the video (Mikes Teller) looks like Jerk @chosetherose

Analysis: The spotlight in the ballroom dancing scene pokes at Jerklie’s PR marriage @chosetherose

Taylor knocks over the (cake) groom then breaks the (frosted) chains @chosetherose

Taylor channels the Jerklie wedding with sneakers under a wedding dress @kaylorswhatyouwant @kaylorkerfuffle @spade-riddles

Taylor’s ex Liz Huett wore a red blazer in her music video where she kissed the bride @james-betty-kaylor

Taylor has never given a mf scarf to any man @chosetherose anon

Turning white roses red relates to Alice in Wonderland @theprologues + anon

Red (Taylor’s Version) + More Merch

Deck of cards (obviously including spades) @theprologues

Celebrating 2022 with a breakup? @chosetherose @asteracaea

Other

Blind item hints that Scooter may get smacked with major lawsuit (take with grain of salt) @chosetherose

Blind item says Karlie and Ryan Reynolds had lunch 2x in 2 weeks (maybe while their wives were filming the IBYTAM video) @spade-riddles @rainbowdaisy13

Karlie posts IG caption “en route” the same day the IBYTAM video drops 11/15/21 @spade-riddles

[cyborg-franky]

Hiya could I ask for a Halloween promo number 19 with Buggy and a female reader

Buggy x Fem!Reader SFW Modern AU: Word Count: 468 Buggy stared, his nose wrinkled as he watched Alvida pull back her arm, hand into a fist and decking the poor soul who had dared to hit on her in the bar. He sipped his drink, watching the man nurse a broken nose on the floor as the woman turned her attention back towards him, flipping curly locks over her shoulder.

“So, anyway” She started and held her hand out to take her glass back from the blue haired man.

He was about to open his mouth to say something when he felt his pocket vibrate and scream at him. He sighed and dug around in his brightly coloured pants, your name flashed up on the screen and he calmed down, he hated to talk on the phone, dealing with people but you weren’t people.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, you always texted never called.

"Can you come over? I don't want to be alone tonight" Your voice was uncertain, shy.

“Kids fucking around and got you scared huh?”

“Maybe”

“Little shits, yeah, I’ll be over in a second”

“Buggy, are you going to hassle teenagers?” Alvida asked as she swirled what was left in her glass, perfect eyebrow raised.

-

He hadn’t even dignified her with a response as he stormed away from the bar, you didn’t live that far from here, stomping down the street, grumbling to himself, his sleeves rolled up, if anyone was fucking with you they’d regret it.

“Oh shit, isn’t that one of those creepy clowns that hang around in people’s yards?” He heard someone say to their friend. He narrowed his eyes and spun around.

“FUCK OFF, THIS IS JUST HOW I LOOK!” He screeched loudly and pointed a finger at the two men who very quickly picked up their pace.

--

Getting to yours he used the key you’d given him, opening the door, kicking off his shoes, still seething from the comments, he almost hoped someone was in your yard hassling you, just for the excuse to march over and punch them in the face.

“Buggy!” You cried seeing him, rushing down the hall, throwing your arms around his neck, trembling, and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Who the fuck is hassling some woman whose all on her own?” He snapped, rubbing your back gently before he pulled away, he saw movement in the garden, someone had climbed up your tree, he went into the kitchen, grabbing your fruit bowl, bursting out into the yard.

“Come here you little- “

You watched as your boyfriend proceeded to throw apples and oranges at the two men in scream masks hiding in your tree, having great aim he knocked them out the branches, the shouted curses at him, Buggy not liking this much either chased them with the old fruit.

“Ah, my hero”

[drunktuesdays]

why hasn't that gifset spawned a thousand eddie/daniel omegaverse fics

a THOUSAND. anon out here aiming HIGH in our rarepair that got invented yesterday on the basis of nothing!

i do wish there was a thousand general omegaverse fics. i know it's basic fandom bitch of me but i do love thinking about it so much. i love thinking about like—the wwe only hires alphas and they tend towards safely bonded ones so it's pretty placid over there. their problems are the regular problems. but aew—that's the exciting new company that doesn't give a shit about your dynamic and doesn't even ASK. it's bold, it's progressive, it's completely fucking CHAOTIC. matt jackson's in the hallways hollering about how actually you DON'T have to take suppressants if you don't want to, freedom is REAL now!!!!!!! max caster won't stop rapping about how everyone wants to knock him up. baby alpha daniel garcia is so confused about how he's supposed to be acting, he almost got decked for scenting eddie during a promo. dante martin has—at last count—four different alphas promising to mentor him, but not ONE of them has explained to him whether it's okay to make eye contact with anyone!!!!!! HELLO????? IT'S BEDLAM!!!!

meanwhile tony khan's out there being like "i'm so proud of our little family. <3 our strength is in our people and our people are strong <3 yes, of course it's challenging to run a company like this one <3 of course we had to hire three new hr reps to deal with max caster alone <3 but i think we're really changing the game <3 oh, sorry can i offer you a scent blocker? <3"

[alldayangst]

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words. 

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet. 

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book. 

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly. 

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball. 

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?” 

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.” 

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two. 

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true. 

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it. 

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

[pokemon-card-of-the-day]

Pokemon Card of the Day #3033: Unown (Lost Thunder #90)

The Lost Thunder set released 3 Unown cards, and each of them introduced a new win condition to the game. The first Unown required putting a ton of damage counters on your own Pokemon, and if you could do that, you could just get Unown up front and win. This would require a lot of work and maneuvering around the opponent, likely with a lot of Item recycling and possibly a way to slow the other side down to prevent damaged Pokemon from just being Knocked Out. That was a lot to ask, and a deck using this was going to need to be built to only go for this goal.

Unown's stats were rather poor. 60 HP wasn't enough to stand up to most attacks, and was low enough that the Psychic Weakness rarely changed anything. Unown could retreat for an Energy if you started with it or something, but even then you might not be running Energy in a deck like this at all.

Damage was the Ability here. If Unown was your Active Pokemon and there are 66 or more damage counters on your Benched Pokemon, you could use the Ability to win the game. Getting 66 damage counters spread around without the opponent messing that up by attacking was extremely difficult, and in any Standard format it was practically impossible. Expanded had a lot more tricks, with Team Magma's Secret Base, Reuniclus, Scoop Up Cyclone, and ways to draw through the deck like Shaymin-EX. Even then, the deck was only marginally successful even after the first Tag Team Pokemon, Magikarp & Wailord-EX, was released as a Promo that could absorb a ton of damage.

Then they decided to just ban this before the Team Up set was released, before it broke through in Expanded, to prevent a scenario where the idea could win after just a turn or two. Who knows if Unown would have actually done anything extra with new cards from that, but it was left legal in Standard and didn't do anything there due to the lack of the older supporting options it really wanted for damage counter placement and movement.

[dinopopduck]

Ezekiel Only Being Unaffected By Certain Kinds of Magic

Let’s just start with me saying this isn’t exactly a new theory. It’s the demigod thing, and it’s a fairly popular one. If you haven’t heard of this headcannon, I put as much as I can find here. If you have, I found a bunch of new stuff that I haven’t seen anyone else mention, so reading this isn’t a complete waste of your time, I hope.

I tried to keep this from becoming wordy, but it got really long anyway, because there was a lot to talk about here.

Ezekiel being unaffected by magic is sort of an ongoing thing in the show. He is influenced by it much of the time, such as by Santa’s Hat, Pan’s Flute, Prospero’s spell, lycanthropy, etc. When it comes to the stuff he was seemingly completely immune to, there is one link that connects them all.

Apple of Discord: Everybody knows this one. The Apple is a Greek artifact, meant to turn you into the worst version of yourself, and Ezekiel was only one completely unaffected. It’s blamed on “he’s already the worst version of himself” or whatever.

Zeus Lightning Bolt: the episode where Ezekiel ends up decked out in Greek armor, and is sent to pick up Zeus’ Lightning Bolt, which was freaking out and zapping everywhere. He picks it up just fine, and he’s then able to hand it off to Flynn. It may have been purely because of the Greek armor he was wearing, but Flynn did not seem so sure about that working.

Cindy’s Love Potion: Ezekiel is able to be near the potion without becoming obsessed with Cindy. At first, it’s blamed on him being obsessed with himself, then later Jacob tells Ezekiel that he was already in love with Cindy. It was an obsession, not a love, potion you literally spent the episode proving that blah blah, he didn’t even recognize her at first blah blah, anyway, I have a better reason.

There are two Greek mentions in this episode. First, the potion project itself is called Project Aphrodite, a Greek goddess. Second, the sunflowers; when asked, Jenkins mentions how sunflowers are a Greek symbol of unrequited love. In addition, “love” potions may have originated in Greece, or at the very least, were common enough to have multiple sites claim that, lol. At the end of the season, where each librarian uses their gifts to turn Apep mortal, this greek potion is what Ezekiel ends up using.

See a pattern here? Everything that he was completely unaffected by was Greek in some way. So, he has an immunity to these kinds of artifacts, but why? I vote demigod.

Anyway, moving on.

Here’s some magic he could have been immune to, or could not have been. Its pretty debatable.

Fortuna: Technically a Roman Goddess, but the show does acknowledge how similar they are to Greek Gods. He may have been affected by the spell, but broke out of it pretty quick. Some think he may not been affected at all; slot machines aren’t exactly fair, especially in a casino that exists to cheat completely. As for Ezekiel getting so upset over losing, what he says, “Not the guy that loses, I’m the guy that wins” sounds very similar to what he was saying in Point of Salvation, but that’s a whole nother topic.

Alternately, he was affected and this point shouldn’t be here. I don’t know, I’m not the writers.

Libris Fabula: He was a little bit affected, just far less than the others, as he acted pretty much the same. He did get a barely noticeable clothing change, became luckier than normal, and was just able to cast a spell for some reason? Speaking out that spell, it froze the guy, and a certain Greek God does have the ability to put people to sleep. Not really the same thing, but worth thinking about. Maybe. More on that later.

Most people think he was immune, but he could have just been similar enough to the character he was portraying that he didn’t need to change a whole lot.

These ones are barely worth mentioning, because have other reasonable (though I guess your definition of reasonable may be different from mine) explanations, but you could see them as magic immunity as well:

Silver Screen: Ezekiel gets into character the least, while Cassandra and Jacob are out singing and calling people by their character names. Maybe less affected, maybe just a spoilsport. Probably the last one.

Point of Salvation: Was the only one able to remember previous loops. Since they were in a video game, it’s explained that since he was the first through the door, he became the player while everyone else became NPCs. I mean, sure.

Christmas Thief: Saint of Thieves only used his truth telly power on Ezekiel’s mother, not him. Ezekiel did not feel obligated to say anything. Could just be that the guy wasn’t talking to Ezekiel. Or, earlier in that episode Ezekiel tells his mother he doesn’t steal anymore (at least for anything other than the Library, I assume, cause he still kinda does) and therefor that made him immune to the spell, since it only works on thieves.

Image of an Image: Both Cassandra and Ezekiel got their pictures taken, and Cassandra was the only one affected by the transfer spell. However, Ezekiel wasn’t one of the “chosen ones” because he snuck in, and jumped in front of the camera while Eve (one of the “chosen ones”, who was later able to be affected) turned away. Either that, or he just didn’t have time to feel the effect, since his picture was taken after Cassandra’s, and Eve’s was placed in manually.

That’s all the possible instances of magic immunity I could think of.

Next, we have some other stuff that is relevant to this point, but wasn’t necessarily artifact/magic immunity.

Prophecy Cube: Created by the Oracle of Delphi, who is from Greek mythology. This isn’t about whether Ezekiel was affected by something, as he was still able to use the prophecy glass/get stuck in the cube. Rather, it’s about the Zeus Challenge in the cube. They probably would have died in there, but luckily, Ezekiel had just happened to steal, and keep on him, the exact thing they needed to get through– a bunch of golden coins, and a prophecy that ensures at least one coin can’t be destroyed. Luck? Prophecy? Divine Intervention? Plot convenience? Okay its probably the last one but STILL

Also, Ezekiel getting pissed at Zeus.

Zeus’s Bolt (again?): There is a promo image I think for season 4? that has each of the Librarians holding their tools. Jacob had his axe, Cassandra had a notebook, Flynn had Excalibur, all normal, except for Eve and Ezekiel. Eve had this big staff thing I didn’t recognize, and Ezekiel had Zeus’ Bolt for some reason?

Lightning, just, in general: If there is wild electricity in an episode, Ezekiel is probably around.

Examples:

City of Light: Gets shocked and knocked backwards into Jacob by a very electrified fence, gets up right afterwards and is fine.

Broken Staff: The Zeus Bolt thing, you get it.

Image of an Image: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob. Jacob was not really fine. He lived, though.

Point of Salvation: Ezekiel electrocutes Jacob part 2 Electric Boogaloo, but this time on purpose. He was not fine. He died. But don’t worry, he lived.

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: Mentioned a little bit above, Ezekiel, Jacob, and a student get stuck in the Zeus Challenge, and Ezekiel uses some coins he just so happened to steal recently. Throwing them on tiles shows whether or not lightning will strike if it was stepped on. Seriously, why is it ALWAYS Jacob?

The Dark Secret: Ezekiel is the one sent to wrap a cord around a lightning rod constantly being struck by lighting. “Why am I bloody doing this”, he asks? I mean, Zeus probably isn’t going to kill his descendent(?), right?

Werewolves: Have you heard of the Lycaon of Arcadia? It’s a Greek myth. Basically, this dude named Lycaon wants to test how smart and all-knowing Zeus is. To do so, he kills his own son, cooks him, and serves him to Zeus to see if he notices, ya know, no biggie. Zeus was like “wtf man” and brings the son back to life, and turns Lycaon into, you guessed it, a wolf. So, Zeus creates a werewolf of sorts, maybe one of the firsts. In Fangs of Death, Ezekiel just so happens to be the one (main) character to be turned into werewolf. So, if he was a descendant of Zeus, imagine how big of a “fuck you” that was to the god. That all being said, Ezekiel was turned by an Egyptian god, so that might not have been intentional. Also, they may have just been avoiding turning Jacob, because there is already a werewolf named Jacob and they didn't want another Twilight reference in that episode.

Family/Name: Ezekiel is adopted, and his adoptive mother mentions how she took him in off the streets. Because of that, we don’t know who his birth parents are, and whether or not he, or anyone else, knows is unknown. Soooo, we can take some creative liberties as to who his parents might have been.

As for his name, it carries some religious connotations. It should be remembered though, the meanings I’m talking about here are Biblical, not Greek, so again, might mean nothing for this argument. “Ezekiel” is “God’s Strength” or “God will Strengthen”. Jones might also be something like “God is gracious” or “God has favored”, thought different sites say different things. However, I’m pretty sure the name Jones came from his adoptive mother, and apparently Jones is a common last name in Australia. His first name is more relevant, because all of his siblings have themed names; Mercy, Charity, and Honor. So, either his mom named him differently because she knew something we don’t, or he already had the name before she adopted him. Either way, this probably means absolutely nothing. But what are we here for? To analyze a dead show like an English teacher analyzes the color of curtains in an 100 year old text. If it wasn’t for all the other stuff, I probably wouldn’t think about this too much.

Okay. So Greek stuff, lightning, and Zeus himself come up a LOT when it comes to this guy. So is Ezekiel the son of Zeus? Possibly, but a more popular theory is that he’s Zeus’ grandson. Because Zeus’ son just so happens to be Hermes; god of things such as luck, travel, money, trade, and most importantly, thieves. Oh, and animal husbandry/shepherds and sleep, I don’t know how much those apply but I will try.

Time for some comparisons, honestly most of these don’t even need to be explained so I’ll keep it short-ish, cause this shit has gotten way too long already.

Luck: Ezekiel, especially in the first season, likes to rely on luck, and tends to be very lucky in general. Examples where this is mentioned include Fables of Doom and Apple of Discord. “Smarter to be lucky then lucky to be smart!”

Travel: We can assume that he ended up traveling in his previous job (that being heists all over the world) fairly often, even before the Library. Becoming a Librarian with a teleporting door increased that of course.

Money: Steals very high-value items to sell. Also apparently likes to take money from his coworker’s wallets. And probably everyone else’s.

Trade: The aforementioned high-value pieces he steals are traded/sold for money. In Christmas Thief, we find out he kept none of the money or items, giving it away to others who needed it. That kinda fits this category, I think.

Thieves: I really don’t need to explain this. Unless you haven’t seen the show.

Animal Husbandry/Shepherds?: Basically the care of animals. Um, well he doesn’t keep cows or anything, but he has a tendency to “adopt” magical creatures that need help. Stumpy, Nessie Jr., maybe Frankenstein’s Monster as well?

Sleep: I mentioned earlier how Ezekiel froze a guy (not really in an icy way, just couldn’t move) by hitting him with his coin. Hermes is able to send people to sleep with his Caduceus (the snake wand thing). Yeah, it’s not really the same thing, though you could consider being frozen a kind of sleep. He could have just been lucky enough to find a magical coin, and lucky enough to figure out how to use it at the exact right time without even knowing what it did. It’s a stretch either way, really, and was never explained in the episode at all. Yeah, I can't find anything else that fits.

Hermes is considered to be a thief and trickster, and a lot of the things he is god of are Ezekiel’s main occupations. With all those similarities to Hermes, frequent events related to lightning and Zeus related things, and immunity to Greek artifacts, we can conclude that he is perhaps the son of Hermes, taking after his father in abilities and getting visits from grandpa.

Alternatively, his somehow IS Hermes, but I doubt that. He’d probably be way more powerful. He was also able to see the future with Prophecy Glass, which Jenkins claims is impossible for immortals to do (although in that case he was talking about a Prophecy Cube, but close enough). It’s more likely that he is a demigod.

Okay, that is all I can think of that is relevant. I binged the series about two months ago, and have been thinking about this theory. I went ahead and re-watched the episodes that I mentioned in more detail, as well as parts of others that I remebered. The reason I bring this up is because I may have missed things. I did not rewatch a majority of the episodes, more that I looked at a list of episodes on wikipedia and tried to remember what happened in them, watching clips and episodes if I needed to.

The show was cancelled, so we’ll probably never get a confirmation as to who Ezekiels’ birth parents were, and as such, you can’t prove me wrong! That being said, if I got any facts incorrect in this, please tell me so I can fix it. I’m not well versed on Greek Mythology, in fact I know basically nothing, and did the research as I went along. So again, there could be more. This is just what I found in like, less than a day of searching.

Join me next time on “How is Cassandra magical, where’d she get it from? Also, were we ever gonna meet her parents?” And “In the first episode of season 3, Jacob is just able to hit a heavy punching bag of its chain, across the room, at bullet speed, just because of a shift of his wrist, and later in that episode do the same thing to Apep, and it’s just…never addressed or spoken about again? Like wtf man?”

I'm probably not doing that

If you managed to get through all of this, thank you, and I hope this wasn’t too painful to read.

[resbangmod]

Resbang 2020 Promo, the Sixth

When in Rome...

presented by author: @accursednb​ [AO3]

with artist: @rogha​

Pairings: Soul/Maka, Stein/Marie, Soul/Maka/Crona/Kid/Blackstar (tagged separately on purpose)

Rating: T

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Minor Transphobia/Misgendering

Summary:

Three years after Asura's defeat, life is going pretty well for Maka and her partners. Until, that is, a witch with mysterious magic appears and sends Maka into an unfamiliar world, where she is left with no allies and even fewer answers. As she searches for a way back home, Maka stumbles into discovery, and all of the trouble that comes with it.

Please enjoy the story preview below the cut!  

"If you're hesitant because it's illegal, you're both a coward and an idiot," Vermea spat, spinning her staff as it began to glow brighter. "Call that a universal constant."

There was a roar, and Blackstar went pummeling into the witch's side with his fists and his wavelength. It knocked her into a wall, causing her attack to miss completely.

Enraged, Vermea wielded her staff like a bat and stuck Blackstar in the stomach. In his second of being winded, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, and the light from her necklace and staff grew brighter.

Much to everyone's surprise, Blackstar let out a cry of pain, and there was a spot on his chest that seemed to glow as well. Not willing to let him get anymore hurt, Maka dashed forward, Soul and the ready, and aimed for the head.

Vermea ducked, Maka instead cutting her hat to shreds, but she did let go of Blackstar, who kneeled on the ground, gasping. Maka pressed forward, swinging again and hitting her mark, on Vermea's shoulder, near her neck.

The witch seethed before swinging her staff and knocking Maka and Soul out of her way. She stood above them, spinning her staff, preparing for another attack. Maka slashed at Vermea's legs, causing her to jump back and giving Maka a chance to stand back up and gather her bearings.

Crona joined Maka, making sure she was okay before lunging towards the witch. A few attacks were blocked by her staff, but Crona was too quick, and soon many new wounds appeared across her body, opened by Ragnarok's shrieking blade.

As she was reeling from the attack, Kid and Blackstar swooped in with their respective martial arts skills to further incapacitate her. After Kid landed a particularly nasty hit to the back of her neck, Vermea kneeled on the ground, clinging desperately to her staff.

Kid tried to take it from her, or at least break it, prompting her to swing at him in a frenzy. In response, Blackstar shot in and decked her, in the formation to use his wavelength… but nothing came. The attack was a strong punch, nothing more.

A familiar dread filled Maka's mind as she watched. The last time Blackstar hadn't been able to use his wavelength was years ago, during what could only be described as a depressive episode.

"But that can't be it," Soul piped up, following the same train of thought. "He did it just a minute ago, didn't he?"

The witch cackled as she dragged herself to her feet. As she planted her staff in the ground, there was a burst of energy, and the staff changed from blue to yellow.

In less time than it took to blink, everyone except Vermea went flying backwards, their bodies recoiling from the sudden energy shot into them. Maka barely registered Soul slipping out of her hands, and couldn't hear the clatter of metal over the ringing in her ears. Faintly, she thought that the energy felt oddly familiar.

Crona, however, was easily in the worst shape. Ragnarok had retreated, and they were coughing up blood. As Maka struggled to stop seeing double and noticed this, she realized what the energy was; it was Blackstar's soul wavelength.

The meister in question seemed the least affected by it, physically, but was very clearly shocked and angry, if his yelling was anything to go by.

"Did you steal my big move?! Do you even know who you're messing with?!" He growled, already ready to continue the fight. Maka rolled her eyes.

Vermea looked at him for a second. "Not really. Nor do I care. If I don't know you already, I don't need to."

Relying on her staff, she walked forwards towards the still-recovering Maka. She reached around for Soul, but between her blurry vision and electrified senses, she couldn't find him.

Blackstar lunged for Vermea, but when he got too close, she made a pulling motion with her hand, and the glow in his chest returned as he collapsed in pain.

Kid was next, he was always quick to recover, but he was whacked away with her staff, right in the head.

Crona, still badly hurt from Blackstar's wavelength, struggled to stand and fight, but they were easily kicked to the side.

There was a quick flash of light, and Soul was in front of Maka, prepared to defend. Vermea paused for a moment, and then jabbed him with the butt end of her staff. When he stood standing, she knocked him upside the head. He stumbled to the side, but still transformed his arm and stabbed her from behind, piercing her stomach all the way through.

Leaning heavily on her staff, Vermea turned around and once again jabbed it into Soul's stomach, this time with the ornamental side. There was another zap of electricity, this time focused entirely on Soul, and he barely made a noise as he collapsed to the ground.

Finally, she stood over Maka, spinning her staff as it changed back from yellow to blue. Maka began to stand, but Vermea kicked her down.

"It'll be less painful if you stay put, Miss Albarn." She grinned. "And you know, I have to hand it to you. You put up quite a fight this time!"

[searchingwardrobes]

Self Promo Sunday: Hope for the Orphans

This was my very first fic, and it’s really hard for me to believe that it’s almost four years old! It’s never been posted on tumblr before, nor have I ever made art for it. So here it is: my way of bringing little!Killian and little!Emma together - in canon. I hope these two cuties bring a smile to your face (even in the midst of their canon-compliant troubles.)

I also wrote this for @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ whose writing I have always admired. Little did I know back then that she would become a wonderful friend! Love ya, Jen!

Summary: One night, while remembering his mother, nine year old Killian Jones asks the man in the moon a question. The next thing he knows, he’s in a strange realm meeting a seven year old Emma Swan at a Valentine’s Day party. Could she be the answer to his question?

Rating: G

Trigger warnings: mentions of child abuse (very vague), and a very ill Killian as a child

Words: 6k and some change

Also on A03

Tagging my usuals:  @snowbellewells @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @teamhook​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @winterbaby89​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @superchocovian​ @shireness-says​ @spartanguard​ @optomisticgirl​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @jennjenn615​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @nikkiemms​ @hollyethecurious​  @profdanglaisstuff​ @kday426​ @distant-rose​ @carpedzem​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @branlovestowrite​  @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @scientificapricot​ @snidgetsafan​ @vvbooklady1256​

When Killian Jones first saw Emma Swan, he had the strangest sensation that he had met her before. It was like a long-forgotten detail that niggled the back of his brain, and just as he began to grasp it, away it slipped like grains of sand. So he was delighted when it had been Emma Swan to volunteer to climb the beanstalk with him. “I was hoping it’d be you.” And as they climbed, he uncannily just knew things about her. That she was an orphan, for one. He wasn’t lying when he said she had the look of a lost boy in her eyes, but he noticed the look after the knowing. “Open book,” he had told her, but he hadn’t the slightest clue how or why.

The longer he knew her, the more he felt he had always known her. Of course, he never voiced this to Emma. He knew his Swan – he knew if he said such a thing it would terrify her. So it wasn’t until the night of their honeymoon, that he voiced it in the dark.

“From the moment we met, I have felt . . . like I’ve always known you.”

Emma surprised him with her response. “You too?” she asked, propping her chin on his chest. He could just make out the green of her eyes by the light from the bedside lamp. There was no fear there, not anymore.

Killian gazed down at her, confused. “You mean you’ve felt that way too?” At her answering nod, he asked, “How long?”

Emma snuggled into his side before answering. “Since the first day we met. I looked into your eyes and thought that I knew you from somewhere. I mean – I’m not saying it was love at first sight or anything-“ he could almost feel her roll her eyes at that notion – “it was more like a vague ‘I’ve seen this guy somewhere before,’ know what I mean?”

Killian chuckled, “Exactly.”

They both fell silent for a moment, contemplating what it might mean. Emma finally scooted herself up to nuzzle his neck. She murmured against his skin, “It’s probably just the whole true love thing.” How far his Swan had come to speak of it so matter-of- factly!

“Hmmm, “he sighed, as she lightly kissed his jaw. “And pray tell, love, exactly what does that mean?”

“You know,” she murmured as she lazily kissed a path across his face, “two souls destined to be together. Kindred spirits who recognized one another immediately, despite all reason. That sort of thing.”

And that was what they decided. The soul mates cliché. After all, what other explanation could there be?

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

 Nine year old Killian Jones stuck his head slowly out of the hatch leading below decks, so only his eyes were visible through a narrow crack. He searched carefully to be sure no other sailors were above deck. He knew, of course, that there was a sailor on watch up in the crow’s nest. But he would be scanning the skies and sea, not looking down below at the deck. Seeing that the coast was clear, Killian quietly slipped out on deck, padding silently to the railing. The wood was cool beneath his bare feet. He leaned over the railing and down at the water below. It was a calm night. He could even see the moon and a few stars reflected in the almost glassy surface of the sea, the image broken only occasionally by the undulating waves. He looked up at the velvet sky and reveled at the sight of so many stars twinkling down at him. He breathed in deeply the familiar scents: salt, seaweed, and damp wood. He listened to the familiar sounds of the ocean and the creaking and rocking of the ship. He felt the cool night air gently fan his flushed cheeks. This was what he needed so desperately after being cooped up for three whole days below deck. Even if the slight saltiness of the air stung his right cheek just a bit.

“Killian Jones! What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

Slowly and reluctantly, Killian turned to face his older brother. Liam stood there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking far older than his 13 years.

“I just needed some fresh air, brother!” Killian tried to explain. “I couldn’t stay down there in the hold one more minute.”

“Little brother,” Liam said on a sigh, putting his hand gently on Killian’s shoulder, “you had a raging fever for three full days. The last thing you need is to stand out here, breathing in the deadly night vapors. You must remain abed until you get your strength back.”

Liam tipped Killian’s head up, then turned it to the side to look at his cheek. The deep cut there was still a bright, angry red, but the wound was no longer weeping. Killian saw the regret and guilt in his brother’s eyes.

“It could be worse, I suppose,” Liam grumbled, dropping his hand from Killian’s face. “You’ll have a scar, though.”

Killian decided that the best course of action was to make light of it. “Well, every good sailor worth his salt needs a scar,” he said brightly. Then he poked Liam in the chest, “And what do you expect? I was stitched up by a 13 year old.”

Liam winced. Okay, maybe it was too soon for that joke. But according to Cook, Liam may have saved Killian’s life.

“Well,” Liam replied, poking his little brother in return, “you should have kept your mouth shut, as usual, and refrained from setting off the Captain.”

Now it was Killian’s turn to wince. Liam was constantly berating him for his sass. “Just keep your mouth shut, Killian, and do as your told,” was the seemingly endless refrain from his brother’s lips. And it was true, Killian’s mouth was constantly getting him into trouble. He just couldn’t seem to help himself. A few days ago, the Captain had sent his youngest cabin boy below decks for some more rum. Unbeknownst to Killian, the barrel he had filled the decanter from was not properly sealed. Salt water had seeped in and ruined the rum. The Captain had taken a large gulp and promptly spit it out across his desk. He had roared at Killian, blaming him. Killian should have taken the scolding meekly and gone to get rum from the second barrel, but instead, as usual, he had opened his mouth.

“As drunk as you are, I’m surprised you noticed.”

The Captain had roared even louder and would have knocked his desk over if it hadn’t been nailed down. Instead he threw the glass tumbler in his hand right at Killian, who had ducked just in time. The tumbler smashed into pieces against the wall directly behind his head (really, who uses glass tumblers on a ship? was Killian’s ridiculous thought). Ducking hadn’t prevented a shard of glass from slicing across his cheek. The Captain screamed at him to get out, face red and eyes bulging. Killian had stumbled out, putting a hand to his stinging cheek. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. He wiped his bloody hand on his tunic, and reached up to his cheek again. By the time he stumbled on deck to his brother, his face and cheek were slick with blood again.

“Liam,” was all he managed to say before he swayed on his feet.

The rest was a blur. Killian remembered opening his eyes to find himself laid out on the table in the galley, Liam and the bos’un, Starkey, arguing.

“Cook’s gone to shore for supplies.” Starkey hissed, “What’ll we do?”

“I don’t know,” Liam hissed back, as if he didn’t want his brother to hear him. “Go to shore and look for him, or a healer.”

“Captain was adamant that his slaves stay on board. He may do worse to me and to Killian if we disobey. Besides, Killian needs help NOW. Look at how much blood –“

“Then what’ll you do?”

“Get Cook’s kit. I’ve seen him do it before . . . “

“Have you lost your senses?” Starkey practically screeched. “You’re just a boy!”

“Exactly!” Liam shot back. “I need you to hold him down. I’m not strong enough.”

Then Killian saw Starkey and Liam bending over him. Starkey and the Cook had taken a liking to Liam and Killian a year ago when their father had left. The boys trusted both men with their lives.

Starkey took Killian by the shoulders. He thought he remembered tears in the man’s eyes, but surely he had imagined that. “I’m sorry son.” Then the pain. Killian writhed and screamed. Then everything went dark.

When Killian awoke, he was in his hammock in the hold. He was shivering all over, and no matter how tightly he wrapped his scant blanket around him, he felt chilled. For three days, he drifted in and out of consciousness. He heard snippets of conversation around him.

“The wound’s turned septic.”

“I was a fool thinking I could stitch him up!”

“You did what you had to, my boy.”

“The Captain is demanding to know where his second cabin boy is. He has work he needs him to do.”

“Then stall, damn it!”

Concerned faces floated in front of him. Someone made him lift his head to drink some water. Extra blankets were tucked around him. It wasn’t until later that he realized his brother, Starkey, and Cook and given him there’s. As the fever raged higher, he started to hallucinate. Calling out to his mother. To his father. And most frightening of all, was the hallucination he had of Liam. His brother was weeping, begging him not to leave him alone. It had to be a hallucination. Liam never cried.

But by some miracle, this morning Killian had awoke sweating and hot underneath the pile of blankets. When Cook had come down to check on him, Killian had asked for something to eat. Cook laid a gnarled hand against Killian’s forehead, and then whooped with joy. He had never seen the man do anything but scowl. He tried to get up, but Cook, and later Liam, insisted he was too weak. The two of them and Starkey were covering for him; the Captain had been too drunk to know his smallest sailor was missing.

And that was why, on this night, Killian had snuck out of his hammock as soon as the rest of the crew was asleep. Staying in bed all day when he had all his wits about him was about to drive him mad. It was dark, stuffy, and hot in the hold with absolutely nothing to do. And now he had no doubt Liam would send him right back down there.

So Killian couldn’t believe it when Liam said, “Ok little brother, we’ll stay up her for a bit.” When he saw Killian’s grin, he hastily added, “But not for long, and you’re sitting down.”

Killian couldn’t argue with that, he was swaying a bit where he stood. The two boys sat side by side with their backs to the railing and looked up at the night sky.

“There’s a man in the moon tonight,” Liam pointed out. Killian looked up. Sure enough, there was the outline of a man’s face. “Do you remember what mother used to say about the man in the moon?”

Killian shook his head and sighed, “No brother, I sometimes fear I am forgetting her completely.”

Liam gave him a small, reassuring smile, “It’s not surprising. You were only seven when she passed. But I can tell you stories. That way, you won’t forget her.”

“Ok,” Killian agreed with a smile.

Liam cleared his throat. “She always said to give your problems to the man in the moon. But you had to make sure to tell him everything, so he had all the pieces. Like a puzzle. Then, while you were sleeping, he would work out the problem for you.”

Killian tilted his head up to gaze at the moon. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated. He knew he could remember his mother if he thought hard enough. He had to. Slowly, an image came to his mind. A smile that would light up a room. A turned up nose with a dusting of freckles. He saw her face, still a little fuzzy, leaning over him and wiping his brow. He was four or five and was ill. He saw curls framing the pretty face. Light brown, like his brother. Her eyes? He concentrated harder. They seemed to change color. Crystal blue when she was laughing. A stormy gray when she was arguing with his father. Sea green as she sang him to sleep.

“She sang us to sleep!” Killian exclaimed triumphantly. “And told us bedtime stories!”

Liam laughed softly, “That’s right. She had a beautiful voice. Her favorite was –“ and Liam began to sing haltingly:

Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly, Lavender’s green; When I am king, dilly, dilly, You shall be queen Roses are red, dilly, dilly, Lavender’s blue. If you will have me, dilly, dilly, I will have you.

The song came back to Killian and he joined in. “I’ll say, little brother!” Liam exclaimed. “It seems you’ve inherited her singing voice.”

The boys continued gazing at the sky silently, lost in their own thoughts of their mother.

“Do you remember what you always asked her at the end of every story she told?” Liam finally broke the silence.

Killian laughed, “Yes I do. No matter what it was about, giants, kracken, true love’s kiss, I would always ask her if she believed in it.”

“And she would always say, ‘I believe in everything.’”

“Aye,” Killian scoffed, “and you would always roll your eyes and say it was silly.”

“Not you,” Liam chuckled, poking his ribs, “you would always loudly proclaim, ‘Then I believe in everything too!’ Momma’s boy.”

“Hey!” Killian protested, but he didn’t really mind his brother’s ribbing too much. His mother used to always says she couldn’t believe two brothers could be so different. Now that his memory had been jogged, more flooded into his mind. The clearest memory was the day his mother died. His father was away, he couldn’t remember where or why, but Elizabeth Jones had insisted on her boys being allowed in the sick room. Their father was a respected merchant, able to afford a housekeeper for his modest home. Little did they know he had gambled it all away. Agnes, the housekeeper, had tried to argue with Elizabeth, but to no avail. She dutifully brought the boys to their mother.

Elizabeth spoke to Liam first, asking him to look after Killian. “You are all he has left,” she had said. He now realized his mother had known their father wouldn’t stick around. She gave Liam a ring with a garnet stone, hanging on a chain. She slipped it over Liam’s head, saying, “This ring will always bring you safely home.” Liam had nodded solemnly and vowed that Killian would always be safe.

“Killian,” Elizabeth had called, gesturing to her youngest son. Killian stepped to her bedside, unable to stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks. Liam was strong, but he was weak. “Killian, you have more love in your little finger than most people have in their whole bodies. When you love, you love fiercely, with all that you are. That is rare, my son. And it is strength. It will make you a hero some day.” At this, she took Killian’s freckled face in her hands. “No matter what happens, Killian Jones, no matter what mistakes you make – and we all make some – never forget that you are destined to do heroic things. Promise me you won’t forget.”

“I won’t mother,” Killian had sobbed. Then he had thrown his arms around her. Elizabeth had held him close, drawing Liam into the hug as well.

“Forgive me boys, for leaving you.” She wept. “I don’t want to.”

“Of course we forgive you, mother,” they had both declared. And the next morning, she was gone.

Killian looked up now at the man in the moon. He didn’t have a problem for him, not exactly. More a question. He realized he had broken his promise to his mother. He had already forgotten that he could be a hero. Because his mother was the only one who had ever seen that in him. So, with her gone, he had forgotten. Liam loved him, he knew without a doubt. But he always had the nagging feeling he was letting his brother down. “Why are you always getting into trouble, Killian?” “Can’t you keep your thoughts to yourself, Killian?” It was always something. So Killian Jones looked up at the moon and asked one single question as he closed his eyes.

“Will anyone ever see me the way my mother did?”

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

Killian’s eyes blinked open. He must have fallen asleep on deck. But – something wasn’t right. The surface against his cheek was smooth and cold, not rough and damply warm like the wood of the ship. Someone was saying something to him. . .

“Sweetie . . . come on, sweetie, you need to wake up and get off the bus.”

Wait . . . what? Everything was off. The woman’s strange accent, calling him sweetie, and . . . what the bloody hell was a bus?

Killian jolted up, looking frantically around him. In front of him was a plump woman, middle aged, holding what looked like a rectangle of smooth wood.

“Wh-where am I?” he stuttered. He looked around him – it was all so strange. Two rows of leather benches with an aisle down the middle. And the entire thing was encased in some kind of metal? What was this place?

The woman in front of him chuckled. “You’re at the Valentine’s Day party. All the other children are already inside. You must have fallen asleep.” She looked down at her piece of wood. “Now, what is your name? I thought we had counted everyone.”

“K-Killian J-Jones.”

The woman frowned. “I don’t see your name here.” She shrugged and looked at him with sympathy. Killian wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she was staring at the cut on his cheek. “You must be a brand new arrival. I’ll add your name – go on inside.”

Killian didn’t know what else to do but obey her. He walked down the aisle towards a door at the front of the vehicle he was in. He guessed it was a vehicle. The seat at the very front had a wheel in front of it. He walked down the steps and onto a smooth, black surface. It was all so strange. He looked behind him at the vehicle he had just exited. Large and bright yellow with four enormous wheels. Bizarre. There were words painted across the side in black. He was grateful that Liam had continued his reading instruction after his mother passed. “Baptist Children’s Home.” A children’s home. A nice way of saying orphanage. Great. He was apparently in a strange realm, separated from Liam, and in an orphanage.

“Better hurry up,” the woman behind him admonished. “The food will all be gone.”

Food! Well, at least he wouldn’t starve. He could certainly eat before trying to get back home. Even Liam couldn’t argue with that. He saw a strip of white through a small green lawn. A path. It lead up to two large doors. From the doors and windows of the strange looking building poured a bright, glaring light. What type of lanterns did they have in this realm to make light that blinding? As he walked nearer to the doors and the light, he could see the kind of clothes he was wearing. His trousers were made of a stiff, blue material. The shirt he was wearing was thin, but soft, with strange pictures. The pictures were like nothing he had ever seen, but he could read the words “Star Wars.” That was odd. Over the thin shirt, he wore a short coat made of similar fabric as the trousers. He shivered a little as the wind blew. Seems orphans wore coats too thin in any realm.

Walking into the bright room was overwhelming. At first Killian didn’t know where to look. Glittering, paper hearts of red and pink were hanging on almost every surface of the room. Children of various ages were all around the room. Some were talking, some were playing what looked like carnival games, and at one long table children sat with more paper hearts, rubbing them with colored sticks. But what finally arrested Killian’s attention was the table draped in pink and red tablecloths in the dead center of the room. Food! He tried to calm himself as he approached the table, but he had never seen so many confections in his life! His mother used to make them shortcake with strawberries for their birthdays, but this! The table was a rainbow of color he had never seen on food before. Cakes, pastries, cookies, and . . . was that chocolate?! Pirates would raid ships carrying chocolate, vanilla, or cinnamon, but in this realm such things must be as abundant as sea water. Why else would they serve such rich foods to mere orphans?

Killian almost couldn’t decide what to try first when his eyes landed on a large, heart shaped cookie. The last one on its tray. It wasn’t just the enormous size of the cookie; it was the fact that it was completely covered in pink frosting. Killian had never had frosting in his life. He had seen wealthy patrons buy cakes with frosting from bakeries, but had never tasted it. He picked up the large cookie almost reverently, his mouth watering.

“Hey, kid! You ain’t eatin’ that! It’s mine!”

Before Killian knew what was happening an older boy who towered over him had shoved Killian and snatched the cookie from him. Killian clenched his fists as he watched the boy cram the cookie in his mouth. The bully laughed, his gaping mouth filled with pink frosting and mashed cookie. Killian felt the anger rising, and all reason flee. The boy was huge, but so help him . . .

“I can split mine.”

The soft, kind voice stopped Killian in his tracks. Forgetting his rage, he turned around to see a girl, not much younger than him, standing there with a heart shaped cookie extended to him in her small hand. She was dressed in a similar manner to every other child in the room: the blue trousers, the cotton shirt (with a glittery pink heart), the thin jacket, but she may as well have been the only one in the room wearing a ball gown the way Killian’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. He had seen Liam get tongue tied over girls, but it had never happened to Killian. Until now.

The girl laughed – a wonderful sound. Then she rolled her green eyes and cocked her blonde head. “So ya want the cookie or what?”

Oh, she was a tough lass. He could tell already. Speak, you idiot! Killian thought to himself, but all he could do was nod.

The girl carefully broke the cookie in two, handing half to Killian. Killian ate his half slowly, relishing every sweet bite. It was almost sickening it was so sweet. Almost. Then he shyly licked his lips and his fingers, watching the little girl. She laughed again.

“Didn’t get many sweets at your last home, huh?” She said. “Same here. My last place it was nothing but bologna sandwiches. That I had to make myself, of course. Guy spent all the state’s money on beer. My name’s Emma Swan. What’s yours?”

He hadn’t understood half of what she said. But he had sense enough to remember what Liam had told him about ladies. Whether a duchess or a slave, you should always be a gentleman when greeting a lady. So Killian took Emma’s hand, bowed over it and said, “Killian Jones, m’lady.”

Emma giggled. “You talk funny!” Killian’s face fell until she said, huge smile on her face, “But I like it!” Then he was elated. This Swan girl would be the death of him.

“You must be new,” she continued. “Is the cut why you’re here?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand . . . “

“This home, you don’t stay long. It’s for emergencies. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Emma rolled up her sleeve and showed Killian her wrist. On it was a scar, puckered and red. “Bologna and beer guy. From his cigarette.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but he saw a little wetness in her eyes.

Killian gently patted his cheek. “Glass of rum,” he told Emma with a smile, “he threw it at my head.”

She smiled back and he just stood there stupidly. “I’m nine,” he finally said, “how old are you?”

“Seven,” she answered, then abruptly grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s do something! The craft table is lame, totally for babies. But they’ve got some good games.”

Emma dragged him to a table with little darts laid across it. On the wall behind the table was a dartboard surrounded by shelves of stuffed toys. Emma picked up a dart and showed it to Killian.

“Suction cup darts. Don’t want to give the screwed up orphans real ones,” then she laughed. Seven and already cynical. Yeah, Killian could relate.

She leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear, and he thought his heart might pound right out of his chest. “I want the duck. Think I can do it?”

“I think you could do anything,” he whispered back. And he meant it.

He watched as Emma picked up a dart and concentrated on the board, her tongue sticking adorably out of the corner of her mouth. The first dart didn’t even make it to the board, and the second dart hit two circles from the edge. Emma blew out her breath and narrowed her eyes as she threw the third dart. Close, but no bullseye. Emma sighed.

“Sorry kid, you only get three tries,” said the volunteer.

“Figures,” Emma grumbled.

“I’ll give it a try,” Killian said. The volunteer gave him his three darts. Killian tried to ignore the fact that Emma was watching him, but it was bloody hard to ignore her. His first throw hit the edge of the board and bounced off crazily. He breathed in deeply on his second. He had to win that duck for Emma! His second dart hit on the very edge of the bullseye and he heard Emma cheer beside him. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the bullseye, tossed the dart and …

“We have a winner!” exclaimed the volunteer. “Now, what would you like, little boy?”

Killian didn’t hesitate. “The duck.”

Killian thought it was obvious that he had played for Emma, but when he turned to her and placed the duck in her hands, her mouth dropped open.

“You won this for me?” she whispered, hugging the duck to her chest.

“Of course I did,” Killian said with a shrug. Why wouldn’t he? He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. He scratched behind his ear. “I mean, you did share your cookie.”

Suddenly Emma was grabbing his hand and dragging him along. Again. Not that he minded. He would follow this angel anywhere. The two of them slipped out of a side door and then down a dark hallway. Emma stopped in front of a heavy oak door.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” Emma whispered conspiratorially. “You just got here, so you haven’t come to the Bible lessons yet, huh.”

“Bible lessons?” Killian asked, once again confused.

“Yeah,” Emma whispered back. “They’re not so bad. They read you a story, you make a lame craft, play a game. There’s cookies and juice. That’s the best part.”

The only thing Killian really understood was the part about cookies and juice. Food was certainly easy to come by in this realm.

“I mean, it’s the deal with this place. Bible lessons every Wednesday afternoon. But they take us places. I’m hoping I’m still here next week. We’re going to the movies. I’ve never been.”

Once again, Killian had no idea what Emma was talking about. “So what’s behind the door?” Kilian asked.

“Oh, right,” Emma laughed. “The first Wednesday I came here, I had to go to the bathroom. And on my way back to class, I saw colored light shining through the little window here in this door. I was curious, so I snuck in. And . . . it’s sort of my special place. I wanted to show it to you.”

Emma was the one who seemed shy now, chewing on her bottom lip. Killian smiled at her,” I would be honored to see it, Swan.” Emma giggled, and somehow he knew he was “talking funny” again.

Emma pushed open the heavy door and looked around to make sure the coast was clear. Then she silently motioned for Killian to follow her. When he followed Emma into the room, he gasped. This must be a cathedral! he thought. Each side of the massive room was lined with exquisite stained glass windows. The room was dark, but the moonlight poured through the colorful windows, spilling colored light onto the carpeted floors. “I see why this is your special place,” he breathed.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” Emma agreed, “but I have a special spot. Come on.”

And she was pulling him along again. Did Emma Swan ever slow down? Killian didn’t think so. She stopped at the end of a pew and plopped down on the carpeted floor, her back against the wood. She yanked Killian’s hand to sit down next to her. Just a foot in front of them was a beautiful scene in stained glass. It was a man (the same man who seemed to be in a lot of the glass pictures) seated on a rock, surrounded by children. The man’s face seemed gentle and kind, and the children looked at him with smiles on their faces. One little boy sat on his lap, and he had placed his hand on a little girl’s head. At the bottom of the window, in the stained glass, were the words, “Let the little children come unto me.”

“Who is that man?” Killian asked.

“Jesus,” Emma answered. “You’ll hear a lot about him in this place, trust me.”

“Is he a god of this realm?”

More giggling from Emma. “Realm? Yeah, they say he’s god.”

“So you worship this god?” Killian asked, trying to understand fully why this was her special place.

“No,” Emma sighed, “I mean, I don’t really know what to think about him. But the first night I came in here, we had just heard this story. Jesus was really important, so they tried to send the kids away, they thought he was too busy. But Jesus said the kids could come and actually told the grown-ups they ought to be more like the kids.”

“Really?” Killian asked, surprised. Liam was always telling him to grow up.

“Yeah, I know. And then I saw this window, and I don’t know, it’s just – the Bible teacher said Jesus meant that kids believe stuff real easy.” Emma pulled her knees up to her chest. “But I’m only seven, and it’s getting harder and harder to believe in stuff, you know?”

Killian thought of his mother. I believe in everything. What had happened to the little boy who would echo those words back to her? Killian sighed, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“And in this home, they keep going on and on about how Jesus cares for the orphans. And I want to believe that someone cares – anyone – but it’s just so hard. So when I come in here and look at this window, I imagine those children are orphans. And for one moment, I don’t know. I feel . . . I feel . . .”

“Hope?” Killian supplied.

Emma looked at him and smiled. “Yeah.” Then she took Killian completely by surprise and rested her head on his shoulder. They both gazed up at the window for a while in silence, and then he heard Emma softly snoring. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, and suddenly felt very, very tired . . .

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

“Killian! Killian, wake up!”

Suddenly, Killian felt someone shaking him. He felt damp wood beneath him and smelled salty air. He groaned. His head felt full of cotton and his limbs felt heavy.

“Killian,” Liam spoke urgently, “we fell asleep, and now you’re burning up. I’ve got to get you back to bed.”

Liam began yanking Killian to his feet, and Killian didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Swan?” he asked. He was on his feet now. Liam tried to pick Killian up, but he wasn’t strong enough. Killian swayed and leaned into his brother.

“I don’t know what you’re babbling about, little brother, now walk.”

“The – the swan. With golden hair. She was a little angel.”

Liam chuckled. “You’re fever is definitely back. You’re hallucinating. Besides, you said girls were a nuisance.”

“Not this one,” Killian mumbled as Liam helped him below and then into his hammock. “Bloody brilliant she was. Amazing.”

But Liam was right, his fever was back. Killian spent two more days in a feverish fog, and when he woke up he assumed the blonde angel and her strange realm had all been a dream. And as hundreds of years ground away at his heart and mind, even the dream faded almost into oblivion.

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

Killian and Emma knew that the other parents of Storybrooke were probably rolling their eyes at the idea of taking an 8 month old to a Valentine’s Day party. Although none of them should have been surprised. As orphans, they had missed out on so much. They were determined to give their little girl everything they had missed out on. Children’s events at the public library were one of them.

Belle had always been a natural at running the library, but after becoming a mother she took it to a whole other level. She convinced Regina to approve the addition of a children’s wing, and she kept said wing abuzz with activity. Storytime, laptime, babytime, summer reading programs, and countless special events were a welcome improvement over research to defeat monsters and secret war councils. In the peace that had descended on Storybrooke, the Jones family were Belle’s number one customers. They brought baby Elsa to babytime every Wednesday morning, alternating weeks. Belle had tried not to chuckle the first time Killian brought her. Elsa couldn’t even hold her head up yet, so when they sang the song about riding a pony to town, Killian couldn’t bounce her on his knee like he was supposed to. So really, was a Valentine’s Day party that crazy of an idea?

Granted, Elsa drooled, babbled, and squealed her way through storytime about two rabbits who try to outdo each other with declarations of love. Emma had basically done the craft for her after Elsa tried to eat the glue stick. And now Killian was trying to figure out how to balance a plate of food with his good hand while holding Elsa in his other arm. He was trying to grab Emma’s attention across the room where she was talking to Snow, but with no luck. Suddenly, Elsa made a grab for Killian’s plate, taking a heart shaped frosted cookie into both her chubby hands. She squished the cooked delightedly and then tried to cram the confection into her mouth with both fists.

“Oy, little pirate lass!” Killian pouted. “That was your Papa’s cookie!”

Killian heard a chuckle behind him. He turned to see Emma, holding another cookie out to him.

“Wanna split mine?”

And suddenly, just like that, they both remembered. They both gasped.

“It was you!” Emma exclaimed first.

“I thought it was a dream.”

“I thought you were an imaginary friend,” Emma laughed. She stepped forward and drew her thumb across the scar on his cheek. “Rum, huh? Figures.”

Killian grinned. His hands were full, so he gestured with his head to her wrist. “So that’s why you got the tattoo?”

“Yeah,” Emma said while rubbing her wrist, “the scar never did go away.”

They just stood there staring into one another’s eyes, both their hearts breaking for the little lost girl and the little lost boy.

“But how?” Emma asked, shaking her head.

“I don’t know,” Killian shrugged. “All I know is, I fell asleep asking the man in the moon a question. And the next thing I knew . . .”

“Seriously?” Emma rolled her eyes. “The man in the moon? What did you ask him?”

“If anyone would ever see me the way my mother did.”

Emma cocked her head to one side. “Mmhm, and how did she see you?”

“A boy who could be a hero one day.” Killian’s smile lit up his face as he leaned down to kiss his Swan. But before the kiss could get really good, two chubby hands patted Killian’s cheek, covering him in pink frosting. Killian pulled back, both he and Emma laughing. Emma reached up with a napkin to wipe the frosting out of Killian’s scruff.

“What happened to the duck?” Killian asked. “It didn’t earn a place in your memory box?”

Emma laughed. “You’ll never believe this. Another kid stole it.”

“Stole it?”

"Yeah, the same kid who stole your cookie.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “Figures. We were truly made for each other Swan.” And he bent to kiss her againn.