#Also for some reason when I was drawing this I struggled drawing Ireland’s hair the most

[novadraem]

Okay so finally after like a couple of days of working on this and my art program crashing or lagging every time I wanted to continue drawing this, I have finally finished the fanart!

Oh and I’d like to say that I only made the drawing. The designs don’t belong to me they belong to Alohafromangel. And this is fanart of “Hawaii and the Celtic Nations” which was written by Weirdestarrow. Check them out they’re both amazing writers and artists!

Here’s the art!

[confusedlamp]

Mental Health Strategies

I have dealt with various mental health BS (anxiety, depression, ADHD), and while I haven't gotten it all figured out, I have been dealing with it for well over a decade now. I figured I would make a list of coping mechanisms that have helped me and are worth trying out if you haven't already. None of these things are “magic” (just try this and your brain will be all fixed!),  and obviously not applicable in all situations. I mostly learned these via therapy or from other people struggling with mental illness. This also may or may not be to help me have a list of things written down for when I forget. 

Putting this below a keep reading thing because this got long FAST: 

For depression funks:

-Find a small task you can complete. Wash a dish, throw clothes in the hamper, take out the trash, etc. Something small.

-Take a shower. And try changing clothes. Even if it's in to some pajamas. If you aren't up to showering, try washing your face and maybe wiping down with a wipe. But a change of clothes will still feel better.

-Eat something. Doesn't have to be "healthy." Some food, no matter what it is, is better than no food.

-Can you get outside? Doesn't have to be to excercise. Just sitting on the front steps for a few minutes in the sun.

-Doing something to take care of yourself. Can you brush your teeth? Have a glass of water? Brush your hair? Just pick one thing and so it.

-Plan something. See if you can get a friend to meet you to hang out (or zoom) or maybe for dinner. For yourself, maybe find a movie to go see (post pandemic). Preferably find something that has a set time.

For panics:

- Square breathing. Breathe in for 5, hold for 5, breath out for 5, hold for 5. Repeat.

-There are a ton of meditations on youtube. Search "5 minute meditation" and you'll find a ton of videos.

-After the initial panic is over try calling a friend. If you can't for some reason (sometimes it's 3 am or your friend isn't available), try finding some cat videos on youtube. I highly recommend Cole and Marmalade. Something light that will get your brain on something else.

For Executive Dysfunction:

-Remove steps to putting things away. For awhile in school, I would have a mess of papers that weren't organized or put away because I was trying to use a binder. As silly as it sounds, having to neatly align paper holes or got find a place to punch those holes, would prevent me from putting things away. So I switched to folders. Suddenly I stopped losing things and my papers were organized.

-Bullet journaling. Or rather, I just have a little notebook where I put all my to do lists, grocery lists, project planning, brainstorming, etc. I don't properly Bullet Journal (TM) but I keep all my lists in one spot and it helps.

-To do lists in general. Writing out steps to get something done. Cross things out when you finish them. You get a better sense of accomplishment.

-When executive dysfunction is preventing you from getting out of bed, break it down. Step one, sit up. Step 2, swing legs over side. Step 3 stand up.

-Same with any task. If it seems too overwhelming or you just can't bring yourself to do it, it might be because you are looking at all the steps and feeling it's too much. So just think about the first one.

-Alarms and reminders. I put everything on a calendar in my phone. Google Calendar allows you to set a reminder for events days, weeks, hours, and minutes ahead. You can also set alarms for things like "I know I need to leave at 3 for the appointment, so I am going to set an alarm for 2:45 to start getting ready." Do not rely on yourself to look at the clock. YOU WILL NOT LOOK AT THE CLOCK IN TIME.

-Set the dang alarm clock across the room. That way, you gotta get out of bed to turn it off. Once out of bed, go take any meds, or if you don’t have meds, go do a small morning task. Usually doing this small task is enough to get me awake enough to not get back into bed. If I do, well, at least I have taken my meds. 

Sensory Issues:

- Fitted sweat pants and hiking pants. I can’t stand tight clothing, but I want to look presentable. Sweatpants that taper can still look decent. Travel pants or hiking pants (you can find these at places like REI), basically look like slacks but are made out of stretchy material. They also usually are made out of quick dry material which is nice. 

-Fidget and sensory toys. I really like hedgehog rings which have these little spikes on them I can run my thumb over. Also the tangle. I have a tangle that has a rubber coating that has little bumps on it. What you end up liking might differ, but those are two of my favorite. Also, if anyone gives you shit about these, you can explain “it’s sorta like a stress ball, but instead you [whatever you do with this fidget toy].” 

-Ear plugs. I wear these a lot because I have particular issues with sounds, especially certain ones. I prefer either silicone gummy ones or I like these that are “slim” because they don’t make my ears hurt. You can also get musician ear plugs that are made for musicians to protect their hearing, but still be able to hear tones and what is going on, for when sound is simply too load (also good for concerts). 

For General ADHD things:��

-Work somewhere different. This is a bit limited due to the pandemic currently, but just working at the kitchen table instead of your bedroom can help. In college, I used to go to the library to work. Just the idea that I was going to someplace specific to do a specific task, helped me actually get started. 

-Promise yourself that you will work for 10 minutes. Set an alarm if needed. Usually just starting will make the task seem less intimidating. If 10 minutes is too much, do 5. 

-Cardio. Get your self moving. This is good for a lot of things, but I highly recommend it for before you have to sit down to work on a task, like school work. I personally run, but if that’s not your thing dance, a class, walking, biking, etc. Just whatever you like. 

-Time dependent things are good to get yourself going. Again, this is limited by the pandemic, but for normal times, can you meet a friend for breakfast? Can you schedule your appointment so you have to get to it before you start work? When I was in college, I used to go to morning gym classes before my first class of the day. This got me up and if I was 5 minutes late, it was better to do that for a gym class than a physics class. Bonus because it was exercise and I could focus better on the class. 

-In classes, try to find a notes buddy or study group. That way, if you zoned out a moment, you can ask them for the notes from that section and vice versa. Also, meeting up with them is a great way to have a set time to study. 

For General Anxiety/ Depression: 

-This is going to sound cheesy as fuck, but: Make a list for what you are good at. Things you like about yourself. Things you have accomplished. They don’t have to be super deep, but can be. Do you like your nose? Can you paint your nails well? Are you good at understanding your cat? Are you good at writing? Drawing? Did you overcome a bad test and still manage to pass a class?  If you have a friend or significant other that you are comfortable with, ask them to help maybe. Keep this list for when you feel like shit. 

-Yoga. I’m sorry to put this on here because it seems like the most neurotypical advice, but. I honestly love this shit. If you haven’t given it a shot, there’s a reason why people like it. You don’t have to belong to a gym to try it. I highly recommend Yoga with Adrienne. She has some great beginner videos. 

-Take breaks from social media and news as needed. Seriously. You are a single person and can’t fix everything. Do what you can (share the information, make a donation, join in mutual aid efforts, etc.) but doom scrolling and obsessing won’t help anyone. If you won’t do it for yourself, consider that burning yourself out will make you unable to help later on. 

-Create things. They don’t have to be amazing. Crocheting, knitting, drawing, writing, etc. Having something that you can look at and be like “I made that” is really satisfying. Youtube has some great tutorials for pretty much anything. For drawing, I really like Proko. He has some great videos on drawing faces. But again: IT DOESN’T NEED TO BE GOOD. 

General Resources/ Advice:

-If you are currently in college, most campuses will have groups for counseling and even limited one on one sessions. Usually, these counseling groups are free and the one on one sessions can help you find a counselor nearby. 

-How to ADHD. Seriously I love this youtube channel. She goes over how ADHD affects the brain and has seriously helped me understand it better. 

-The Trevor Project. For LGBTQ teens and youth. They have a hotline and many other resources.  

-If what is stopping you from getting therapy is the idea that you are being dramatic/ are not that bad/ others have it worse: Go get therapy. What are we going to do, find the one person who has it the worst off than anyone and only they are allowed to feel bad and get help? Screw that. Get some help. 

-Remember that there are good things in your future. Where ever you are in life, you have something positive in your future, even if you don’t know it yet. One day, there will be a moment when you look back on the dark times and be so glad you didn’t give up. 

-Obligatory: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/  (1-800-273-8255). This is national suicide prevention lifeline, for the US. They can help. 

-https://www.crisistextline.org/ For when you don’t like phone calls, try texting instead. Has US, Canada, UK, and Ireland numbers. 

[365days365movies]

March, 6, 2021: Wolfwalkers (2020) (Part One)

I love Cartoon Saloon so goddamn much.

Before I’d seen a single Ghibli film, I was a big fan of the Irish film studio because of their first film, The Secret of Kells. They’d also done a few TV series in the years prior (I’ve heard of Skunk Fu!, and have no interest in seeing it), and still make a few to this day, but the first time I’d heard of them was with Kells, a delightful movie that borrowed from both Irish history and folklore in their telling of the making of a famous illustrated version of the Bible, and a young boy’s friendship with a mysterious forest spirit.

And yeah, that movie is great, but I didn’t have much to go off of then. And then, 5 years later, they released their second film. And that one fucking BROKE me.

Song of the Sea is the second in what would become director Tomm Moore’s trilogy of movies based on Irish folklore, and was a bit more contemporary as compared to Kells. That one’s about a boy and his mute sister, whom he blames for the death of his mother. However, his mother is not dead, but is a selkie, a mythical Irish mermaid that becomes a seal when donning a magical coat. And it turns out that his sister is one as well!

And you think, “aww, look at the seals, they’re drawn so cute” FUCK ME IT’S BEAUTIFUL AND HEARTBREAKING. It takes a lot from Irish mythology, from giants to owl-women, and it’s a fantastic fuckin’ movie. And then, three years later...Tomm Moore’s directing partner stepped up.

See, while Moore was developing Song of the Sea, his partner from Kells, Nora Twomey, stepped in with her own solo project: The Breadwinner. We leave Ireland this time for a book adaptation based in Afghanistan in the 1990s, where a young girl is forced to pretend to be a boy in order to provide for her family (which was apparently a common practice). A LOT happens in this one, and it’s goddamn fantastic as well! It lost to Coco for Best Animated Feature at the Oscars, and...yeah, that’s fair. It’s hard to beat Coco.

But wow, a 2-D animated feature-based company! WHICH IS FANTASTIC! Seriously, in a landscape with fewer and fewer 2-D films in theaters, I’m overjoyed to see these guys hanging in there with some fantastic films! And just when I’d neared desperation for a new Cartoon Saloon feature...here comes Moore.

Ohhhhhh, let’s fucking GO! The last entry of the Irish Folklore Trilogy, today’s entry is Wolfwalkers, a film that was exclusively released to Apple TV, which I got SPECIFICALLY for this movie. It’s $5, I can afford it.

But I am absolutely pumped for this one. It’s based off of the legend of the Werewolves of Ossory, a kingdom in medieval Ireland in which there was a legendary tribe of people with the ability to turn into wolves to hunt in the forest. It’s also based upon the Irish wolf, a population of grey wolves (Canis lupus) on the island that were sadly extirpated  in 1976. People, man. People.

But OK, let’s get this baby STARTED! Been wanting to watch this one since I heard about it, and I’m excited! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Kilkenny, Ireland, in the Year of Our Lord 1650! A group of loggers are working in the gorgeous and atmospheric Irish forest, when they’re accosted by a pack of...honestly very cool looking and well-designed wolves. One of them is caught by the pack and scratched up, then they all retreat.

A large mysterious woman with big red hair and her young daughter stop the wolves from hurting the man further, and also heal up his scratches. He thanks them, and they flee with the wolf pack as the angry townsfolk chase after them.

Wolves are the enemy of the townsfolk, and those townsfolk include the newly-arrived Bill Goodfellowe (Sean Bean) and his daughter, Robyn (Honor Kneafsey), who’ve just moved from England. Bill is a hunter, and his daughter is eager to help him in his endeavors, armed with a crossbow and her falcon, Merlyn.

Bill is on the way to hunt wolves, as assigned by the Lord Protector of England. Robyn badly wants to join him, but it’s dangerous out there, and the Lord Protector forbids children beyond the walls of Kilkenny. Robyn wants out, though, as she’s an English outsider in the Irish village, and this is at a point where their relationship was at an all-time low.

Robyn, clever girl that she is, finds a way to use a group of bullies to distract the men guarding the gates, and sneaks out to the forest with Merlin. As she follows her father (currently unbeknownst to him), she hears a cry warning of a wolf. Robyn runs off to investigate.

A group of shepherds are being accosted by a pack of wolves. Robyn tries to shoot one of them, but the panicking sheep knock into her, and she fires her arrow at...Merlyn. Fuck! I already liked him! The commotion grows...until a distinctly human howl is heard from the forest, stopping the wolves in their tracks. Robyn looks over at the downed Merlyn.

The little girl takes Merlyn away, and retreats back into the woods. The wolves block Robyn’s path, and as they’re about to attack her, Bill arrives, and shoots one of them with his crossbow. The human howl is heard again, and the wolves retreat, one of them injured. Bill chides Robyn for going into the woods, and she tries to go back to get Merlyn. But Bill promised her mother that she’d keep her safe...which means that she’s almost certainly dead. Well, damn. 

They leave the woods, only to be berated by the logger from the beginning, Seán Óg (Tommy Tiernan). He tells Bill off, as the increased logging under the Lord Protectorate has angered the wolves and the people who live with them, whom he refers to as “Wolfwalkers”. But Bill insists that the Lord Protectorate wants the woods cleared, and the wolves exterminated. Seán badmouths the Lord, and of course, who would show up but...

The Lord Protectorate is...oh dear FUCK, it’s Oliver Cromwell (Simon McBurney). Cromwell was a NOTORIOUS asshole for a lot of reasons, and he plays a big role in Ireland’s subjugation by England in the 1650s. I’m in no way educated enough to comment in detail on that, but like I said earlier: it’s a rough time in Irish history, and Oliver Cromwell, cruel, paranoid, but technically historically important douchebag that he was, was right at the center of it all. 

Fun fact, Cromwell actually overthrew the Monarchy shortly after this, during the English Civil War, and became the ruler of the Commonwealth of England. After his 1658 death, his son took over, until he was overthrown by the return of the Monarchy, via King Charles II about 3 years later. And he was SO FUCKING PISSED at the whole affair, that they had Cromwell’s corpse dug up from Westminster Abbey (where kings and queens and Charles Darwin are buried), beheaded, and stuck on a pike on Westminster Hall! Damn.

Anyway, this Oliver Cromwell is just about to overthrow the Monarchy, and he wants Ireland under his heel. He’s commanded the woods to be cut down in order for farms to be established, and Goodfellowe is assigned to exterminate the wolves completely so that that will happen. Upon seeing Robyn, he commands the guards to take her to the scullery, where she’ll probably be trained as a scullery maid. Yay, child labor!

Seán, having just seen the girl with the wolves, tells Robyn who she is. He tells her that the Wolfwalkers can talk to wolves, and will also heal the injured with wild magic. To go back into the woods, she unlocks the cage that Seán Óg was thrown in for insulting Cromwell. His sheep are also in there, and the release of  Seán and the sheep causes enough of a distraction for Robyn to flee into the woods.

Once there, she quickly finds Merlyn, who has indeed been healed by wild magic . Once there, a red wolf approaches her. Robyn readies her crossbow, but Merlyn prevents her from firing, and she gets caught in a snare as a result. During a struggle, the two clash, and the wolf bites Robyn.

She falls out of the snare, but also sees a new kind of vision, seeing the wolf as the girl from earlier in a beautifully animated type of vision. Her arm swirls with golden magic as well, emanating from the bite. Merlyn follows the wolf as they run away, and Robyn’s pursuit of the two leads her into a beautiful hidden grove, with a massive waterfall. Behind it is a cave, covered in drawings of humans and wolves. And that’s not all that’s in the cave.

At the center of the cave is the girl and her mother, sleeping and now surrounded by the wolves. The red wolf becomes yellow energy, and the energy goes into the little girl, who wakes up. Robyn is immediately found out, and the young girl approaches with the wolves at her back.

This is Mebh (pronounced “Maeve”) Óg MacTíre (Eva Whittaker), and I’ve IMMEDIATELY taken a liking to her, from her voice to her character design to her personality. Robyn doesn’t feel the same way, as the two clash. Mebh bit Robyn, but she was actually trying to get her out of the snare. The man are getting to close to the woods, which Mebh isn’t happy about, but Robyn says it’s “their” woods. Here we go.

Mebh uses her wild magic to fix the wound, before it’s too late. I get the feeling that it’s too late. Robyn tries to find out more, including who her mother is, but Mebh chases her off with her wolf pack in tow. And before I get to mention it, I just want to say that this is my favorite design for cartoon wolves. Real talk, I love this good bois. In the process of the chase, though, she’s again caught in a snare, which Mebh frees her from.

But as the two banter again, Mebh senses a “townie” like Robyn in the woods. It’s Bill, and Robyn goes to prevent the wolves from hurting her father. After a close call, Mebh points Robin back in the direction of the town, and blindfolds her to prevent truly discovering the location of the cave...this time. She guides Robyn back, but runs off when she smells food.

Robyn and Merlyn make their way back, and we overhear two shepherds from earlier talking about how one could turn into a wolf if bitten by a Wolfwalker. So, yeah, werewolf rules. Makes sense, given this story’s basis. The two shepherds also have Robyn’s crossbow and fresh bread. Mebh and Robyn work together to steal the food and crossbow, and run away together. Fast friends!

The two young girls bond, and share their struggles. Robyn wishes to go back to their simpler life in England, and wants to spend more time with her father, potentially in the woods. She warns Mebh that the forest is about to be cut down, endangering her and her pack. Mebh notes that her mother went to look for a new place for the pack to live, but hasn’t come back since. Robyn promises to tell her father about the Wolfwalkers and the struggles of the wolves. The two new friends part ways, promising to meet each other in the woods.

When she comes back home, Robyn prepares to tell her father her plan to get the wolves to leave without killing any of them. The preparation is entertaining, as she does a pretend back-and-forth with herself and her dad. Once he gets home, the reality is less great. When he finds out that Robyn never even went to the scullery, he doesn’t listen to her plan at all. He sends her to bed, and the plan is dead before it’s even proposed. Still, Robin promises Merlyn that they’ll find a way to help the wolves.

But that may be...harder than you’d think. As she sleeps, the golden magic comes back, and Robyn sees a wolf in her dreams. Pretty sure of where this is going. She wakes up with a start, and Bill hears this. He gets her up and takes her to the scullery, where she’s put to work.

Y’know, I’ve heard the term “scullery maid”, I’ve never once thought of what the term means. Apparently, it’s a kitchen or backroom in a house for housework, but where the hell is this? Is it, like, the town hall scullery? Not really clear, and it’s made more confusing when Robyn finds her way into a red-carpeted room with animal heads on the walls.

While there, her bite-mark glows, and a whisper of “giiiiiiiiirl” comes from a covered cage towards the front of the room. She approaches the cage, but is interrupted from checking it out by the head scullery maid. The Lord Protectorate has forbidden anyone from entering that room, and Imma call it now: that’s Mebh’s mom. I mean, yeah, no duh, but still. Calling it now.

That night, while asleep, the Wolfwalker’s magic officially takes hold, and Robyn wakes up as a wolf in her bedroom, while her human body sleeps. Her father hears the commotion in Robyn’s loft, and is about to literally kill her wolf-self, but she jumps out of a window and flees the city for the woods.

She quickly finds Mebh, who’s also panicking, as she thought she cured the bite. However, that panic subsides pretty quickly, as Mebh has never met another Wolfwalker before, and is excited to show Robyn how to be a wolf. And through Robyn’s eyes, we get a lovely view of the world through a wolf’s senses, backed by Aurora’s “Running with the Wolves”. And it’s...it’s lovely.

Its also QUITE a good half-way point, so let’s put that right here! See you in Part 2!

[blackjack-15]

Leavin’ on a Jet Pack — Thoughts on: The Haunting of Castle Malloy (HAU)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it. Like with all of the Odd Games, there will be a section between The Intro and The Title called The Weird Stuff, where I go into what makes this game stand out as a little strange.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with links to previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: HAU, mention of DAN.

The Intro:

Yup, this is the jetpack banshee game.

Honestly, that’s probably the best introduction to this game. It’s semi-famous among the fandom for just being balls-to-the-wall nuts, and for good reason; while HAU isn’t quite as confused as some of the other Odd games, it’s definitely less organized, and there’s very little story to tell here.

And the story that is there? Well, we’ll cover that in The Weird Stuff.

The Haunting of Castle Malloy falls near the end of the Odd Games, and honestly it more than deserves its place. Sure, we’re in a different, ‘exotic’ location like…well, most of the Odd Games, but it’s not like it really matters, as Nancy sees very little of Ireland. A car drive, a brief interlude outside of a pub, and the weirdest outside interface ever seen in a Nancy Drew game (even being reused in the next game briefly), and for all of that we might as well be in the Florida swamps.

Let’s not even mention the teetotaler pub. The less said about that, the less silly that this game comes off. Everyone in Ireland drinks a tall, frothy cup of Juice when they want to relax.

Sigh. Honestly, HER. Just skip the pub entirely.

HAU is also a game that tries to contextualize itself in Nancy’s past, but doesn’t do a very good job about it. It’s not inside reference-y like Secret of the Old Clock, but it’s also not grounded in character like…well, all of the Nancy games (ASH through SPY). It just springs in the ‘hey remember this character you’ve never heard about nor had referenced because we made her up whole cloth for this game’ little mechanic and tries to whisk the player away with it.

Consider me unwhisked.

And maybe that’s the biggest problem – or rather, the biggest signifier – of The Haunting of Castle Malloy: it relies on whirling the player away in the Sights and Sounds and Juices of Ye Olde Greene Eire, but instead…well, it doesn’t have the power to whirl the player. It doesn’t even have the body to muss the player’s hair when the wind comes around.

HAU is very little like its source material; in fact, really the only thing that the book and game have in common is that they’re both set in Ireland, and that the mystery involves Nancy’s friends. Sure, in the book it’s Bess and George, rather than an obscure, hitherto-unknown exchange student, but since there’s nothing else, we’ll give them points for it.

The majority of this meta (and the majority of this game) falls under the weird stuff designation, so let’s pop on over and talk about what makes HAU truly odd.

The Weird Stuff:

The entire premise of this game isn’t too far off the mark of normal – Nancy’s summoned to help a family friend, which is the case for quite a few Nancy Drew games (more than the opposite, I believe, at this point in the series) — but it does stand out a bit that she’s going to be in a wedding as a maid of honor.

While I could see it for Bess/George, Hannah (which would be fun) or Ned (which is my personal headcanon), it’s a bit odd that this is a character we’ve never heard of who considers Nancy her closest female acquaintance. You’re telling me Kyler got through elementary, middle, high, and University without making a single friend other than the weird little kid she knew while studying in River Heights?

That’s weird enough to get a section by itself, but it’s not even scraping the surface of this game.

Going deeper, our predominant theme/conflict/effery in this game is a convoluted love triangle between the bride, groom, and their best friend (who for some reason isn’t involved with like anything with the wedding, regardless of the fact that he should be doing at least as much as Nancy is doing, and possibly more since he’s an actual friend of the couple), with Kit still being in love with Kyler (for some unimaginable reason) yet friends with Matt. Kit, notably, doesn’t really do anything about it, but just having that plotline being our main thread is a super weird choice, honestly.

This is also a story about marriage troubles; sure, they haven’t officially tied the knot yet, but the fact that Kyler thinks that her fiancé disappearing the night before their wedding is a “classic Matt prank” and not either something deeply worrying or a sign that he’s too immature for a commitment is a Huge Yikes.

Best case scenario and he’s playing a prank…does he think people won’t take this as a bad sign, that early-arriving guests won’t freak out, that this won’t cause any problems?

And worst case, he’s been kidnapped (the truth of course being even dumber than that), and the first 48 hours after a kidnapping are the most crucial, meaning that Kyler’s inaction could result in a death that didn’t have to happen on her watch.

What I think HER really didn’t think about was the implications of this setup. Either way, it doesn’t just look bad for Matt and/or Kyler (to say nothing of Kit), it looks bad for their future.

We have no faith that these two are actually interested in each other, let alone in love and committed to this relationship. Nancy, famously deaf to emotions like this, doesn’t really make any comments about how this bodes ill, but the player is bound to think that something’s not quite right if these two people are so mismatched.

In a slightly less uncommon theme for the Nancy Drew series, this is also a game about unrequited love. Let’s face it, for the majority of the game the only suspect really is Kit, since Donal isn’t big enough to kidnap Matt, and it’s a Nancy Drew game, so Matt definitely isn’t out there playing a very poorly timed prank on his bride to be. Kit even has suspicious documents (the land drawings) and such that add up to him wanting Matt out of the way, even without his unrequited love schtick with Kyler.

Honestly, how two people were in love with that chick is just…it boggles the mind, honestly. What is appealing at all about Kyler? Her weird hair? The fact that it looks like she’s wearing a green dress the whole game only to have it be pants? Her bland personality? Awful voice? The way she looks in the weird photographs in the game?

Sorry for the digression, but I am struggling here.

The last section within this section will talk about the thing that’s by far the oddest conceptionally in this game – the banshee/jetpack storyline. Most of the time when it’s a folk/faerie story in these games, it turns out to be not true, and that’s still the case here. To have it not be a banshee, but instead be a senile, badly mentally damaged old woman flying around on a jetpack from World War II, on the other hand…that stretches the limits of believability to where it would have been better to just have it be a banshee.

Fiona and her backstory and her jetpack are pretty much the oddest pieces, with none of them actually fitting into the larger themes of the story. Our backstory in this game — WWII Ireland and its scientific achievements — isn’t integrated at all with the present day, dethroning previous WWII-focused backstory game Danger by Design for ‘least related backstory’ award, and it’s not justified at all within the story or characters either.

The Title:

As far as titles go, “The Haunting of Castle Malloy” isn’t bad at all; it’s fairly standard, slightly pulpy Nancy Drew fare, and certainly better than the title of its book inspiration (“The Bike Tour Mystery”, so named because Nancy et al go on a bike tour in the book). It tells you the “what” (haunting) and “where” (Castle Malloy), and is fairly evocative.

I really just have a problem with it being the title of this game. Not only is the Castle not really relevant — sure, it’s where the game takes place, but it’s not important to the game outside a conversation or two — within the story, but the game doesn’t really pull off the ‘haunting’ side either. It’s established pretty early on that there are weird lights and sounds, but that’s about it.

If you want to keep the location, “The Banshee of Castle Malloy” I feel like would have been a better choice, as it tells us right away we’re dealing with Irish mythology, and shows it’s supposed to be a Haunting game (no matter how poorly it pulls that off) without any excess fuss. It’s also a little more specific, which is generally a good move to make the title more interesting — like how “The Shadow in the Fog” is better than just “The Shadow” as a title.

HAU’s title seems to be solidly in the middle of Nancy Drew titles, so there’s not much more to say about it. Let’s move on to the mystery it somewhat, but not completely, speaks of.

The Mystery:

Nancy’s been summoned overseas again, but this time it’s for pleasure, rather than business. An exchange student that Nancy and Carson housed for a few months is getting married, and wants Nancy to be her maid of honor.

And no, I have no idea why Carson wasn’t invited. Way to snub the man who fed and housed you, but invite his daughter (who was 14 at the time Kyler knew her) to hold one of the most important places in the wedding.

Anyway, by the time Nancy arrives — the night before the wedding; bad form Nancy — the groom — Matt Simmons — is missing, which Kyler suspects is a practical joke (as Matt has a reputation for pulling pranks) and Donal, the caretaker of the Castle, thinks is a sign of being kidnapped by faeries for the crime of being English and marrying an Irishwoman.

Out of the many crimes of the English, I don’t think this one ranks enough with the Fae to merit a stepping-in, but hey, what do I know about crudely-drawn stereotypes in a HER game. I’m sure they did all of the possible research, talked to experts about Irish mythology, spent about 5 minutes on the Wikipedia article for “banshee”…at least one of those.

The only other person on the Castle grounds is Kit Foley, Matt and Kyler’s friend — and Kyler’s unrequited admirer. A land developer, he’s literally the most suspicious person at the castle by being the only one actually in the castle and by holding the (honestly reasonable) opinion that Matt just got cold feet and left.

Once Nancy finds Matt’s broken glasses and Kyler mentions that he’s blind without them, however, the race is on to find Matt — who definitely couldn’t have broken a spare/fake pair of glasses as part of the prank, shush you — before the wedding the next day. What should have been a grueling search takes an hour or so, and they find out that he accidentally fell in a secret passage and got trapped there, being fed carrots and potatoes by the resident crazy woman like he was a blind, helpless rabbit.

Yeah.

As a mystery…I mean, is this even a mystery??? What honestly went on in the pitch room that day? “We’re gonna write about fidelity, unrequited love, the stress of a wedding, a friendless woman who invites an 18-year-old because she never made any friends…and a crazy old woman with ties to World War II. And a jetpack.”

I don’t even know how I would begin to rate this mystery. Bad? Because that’s honestly the word that comes to mind. I’m never a fan of “oh it was all a Hilarious accident, ho ho ho” endings to mysteries, and this one is worse than most. Nothing follows, the backstory is such a non-entity it really doesn’t bear spelling out, and the characters aren’t even a little likable. This section could delve into each problem with the mystery but, honestly, that sounds exhausting and I’m gonna go over the bigger points below anyway, so let’s get to the clowns that make up this circus.

The Suspects:

Beginning with Kyler Mallory, our bride to be who, for some reason, has her hair and tiara done the night before the wedding — I guess she’s not planning on sleeping? — is searching for her prankster groom to “teach him a lesson” and so he knows that once they’re married, “no more pranks ever”.

Sounds like she loves him dearly and wouldn’t change a thing, huh. If that wasn’t worrying enough, she’s not super fussed that he’s disappeared the night before their wedding, and considers it a “Classic Matt” sort of thing to do.

As a culprit – man that would have been a dark turn, to have her kidnap/hide away Matt to teach him a lesson about not pulling pranks. It, of course, would have made a friendly acquaintance of Nancy’s into a bad guy, and that’s a huge No-No for HER, but it would have been kinda cool all the same.

Kyler’s groom is Matt Simmons, an Englishman who is decidedly unwelcome in Ireland (at least, according to Donal) and who has a strong reputation for being a little too heavy on the pranks — so much so that when he disappears, his own fiancée just thinks it’s another prank. To be fair to her, he did disappear while pulling a very sad little prank on her, so she wasn’t entirely off base.

As a culprit…how would that even work? That would be like FIN’s Maya kidnapping herself for no purpose whatsoever. Matt isn’t really given any character beats other than “prankster” and “fed like a rabbit”, so there’s really not much to speculate on here. I do wonder what Kyler sees in him…but then again, I also wonder what he (and Kit) see in Kyler, so we have that as well.

Next up is the couple’s friend Kit Foley, who’s sporting an enormous shiner to the wedding courtesy of a wayward branch (and a bit of karma) that smacked him while he and Matt were pranking Donal. He’s in love with Kyler (why????) but seems happy enough for his friends, and is of the opinion that Matt simply got cold feet and left.

Not sure why you’d be friends with someone who’d do that, but no one in this game has any character at all, so we’ll blow past it.

A land developer, Kit is basically the only suspect and yet a terrible suspect at the same time. Sure, he’s in love with Kyler (again, why???), but he also doesn’t really gain anything from them not getting married, just like he doesn’t gain anything from them getting married. I never thought I’d see the day where a brooding best friend is so…unaffected by the marriage of his long-time crush, but that just goes to show you how little depth even Kit — who somehow has the most depth of any character — really has.

Finally, Donal Delaney is the caretaker of Castle Malloy, and a firm believer in the Fae. He’s also really the only Irishman in the cast, which isn’t a great look for HER. He thinks that the Fae have taken Matt in return for being in Ireland and sleeping in the old nursery room in the castle, and is easily frightened.

Seriously, that’s his whole character.

As a culprit…as much as Donal is grumpy, he’s not really any sort of entity as a suspect. He hangs out at the pub, drinks fruit juice, and talks about the Fae, and that’s the extent of his involvement in the plot. The most importance he gets is inadvertently being the source of Kit’s black eye, and that’s so tertiary to the plot that it might as well not be there.

The Favorite:

Even though this game is, by all accounts, a ridiculous non-entity, there are a small amount of things that I do like.

I’m actually a fan of the opening sequence; it’s like a better version of CUR’s opening, has Nancy crashing her car (always fun) while telling Ned she’s not gonna crash (even more fun), and she doesn’t show up right away at the castle. Honestly, the first about 10 minutes of the game are actually solid, and more fun than the rest of the game as a whole. So that probably qualifies as my favorite moment in the game, spliced with the revelation that Matt has been subsisting on raw carrots and potatoes, which is just…honestly unimaginably funny.

My favorite puzzle is the seating chart for the wedding. Veterans of this meta series (all 5 of you) will know that my favorite types of puzzles are word and logic puzzles, and this is a great logic puzzle. I honestly could have done an hour of that puzzle and been happy as a clam. It really stands out as, well, the only fun I had during the majority of the game, but it was honest fun.

The Un-Favorite:

And then, on the other hand…

There’s a lot about this game that isn’t great, but almost none of it do I hate; there’s just not enough effort for me to hate it.

Except the background setting.

Having already done WWII as a backstory, HER really should have thought twice about returning to it only five games later. With Brendan Malloy developing fuel for armored vehicles, only stopped by it exploding in his (and everyone’s) faces in 1944…honestly, there’s no reason that this game’s backstory should take place in World War II, other than to have a reasonable chance of Fiona still being alive. It also makes it seem like ‘oh the War really didn’t touch Ireland that much hahahaha” which isn’t a great look either.

Honestly, HER’s treatment of Ireland is pretty ‘un-favorite’ here, but since HER never really does a good job handling any country (or most states outside the Pacific Northwest), it’d be fairly pointless to begin talking about it at length now.

My least favorite moment is probably the reveal of the culprit/mystery at the end; it’ so anti-climactic, honestly, and only comes after much struggle through two very stupid puzzles. It doesn’t give any meaning to the game, no one learns any lessons, and — probably unpopular opinion here — it probably would have been better for everyone involved (including Fiona) if Fiona would have died in that explosion 60+ years ago.

My least favorite puzzle would actually be the two puzzles at the very end — the chemicals and the rocket ship. The chemical puzzle is the worst offender, but both are pointless, do nothing for the story, and really feel like they’re there because Nancy Drew games have to have a puzzle at the very end. Putting something into a game because you ‘have’ to is never good, and this is a prime example of how annoying that obligation can truly be.

The Fix:

So how would I fix The Haunting of Castle Malloy?

The first thing I’d say is that, despite the games in the Nancy Drew series often containing one, I don’t really think the HAU needs a historical backstory. If you must give something to the Castle and the explosion, set it back in World War I, which would at least be something different.

But honestly, it’d be better to just get rid of it entirely. It’s old, it’s a castle, it’s in ruins, move on. The present has enough potential for drama without mucking up the past.

The second thing I would do is to take out Fiona entirely. Sure, still have the legend of the banshee going around the area, but it’s all things that are (mostly) easily explained, like in most haunting games. Figures in the fog? That’s just grounds crew who have been working for months to prep the site for the wedding. Strange lights? Well, yeah, the castle wouldn’t be wired for electricity if it’s been abandoned, so the workers have to bring in their own lights. Screaming noises? That’s just pre-marital jitters. Or something; you get my point.

As in all haunting games, have one or two unexplained things to suggest that the banshee actually was real, mourning the “death” of the last Malloy — because Kyler’s taking Matt’s name, or some other such nonsense. The sad thing is that it doesn’t really matter; anything that adds meat to the story would be an improvement on such a nothingburger of a game.

I would also bring in Alan, the best man, as more than a phone contact. Let’s face it, only having Kit and Donal as suspects (as Matt’s gone and Kyler doesn’t even pretend to count for a second) is really stupid, and this game needs some more detail and at least an hour more of playtime that doesn’t just involve getting lost in the bog.

Bring in Alan who is confused as to why he was chosen as best man, but suspects it’s because Kyler also has feelings for Kit and thus didn’t want Matt to choose him to be the Best Man (in other words, take out the weird social climbing angle). It would take a subtle hand, but I actually wouldn’t mind Alan having a bit of a thing for Matt himself, just to re-emphasize the “love is like an Egyptian painting; everyone is looking at the back of someone’s head” sort of theme we’ve got going on in this game.

The last thing I’d do is to bring Ned in, and have him be in the car with Nancy on their way. Think of it; usually wedding guests get a plus one; it would be a good excuse for Nancy to ask Ned out rather than leaving him behind as per usual, and Ned would probably be able to relate to Kit/Alan better than Nancy can, on account of Ned having actual emotional intelligence.

I wouldn’t say to have him be player-controlled, but I think Ned hanging around the castle, trying to help out with the emotional snarl that the guys have gotten themselves into (with Nancy focusing more on Donal and Kyler) would not only be in character, but would be a great way to make room for some emotional depth — something that Nancy herself, if not the games, usually skirts around or ignores entirely.

Would these changes fix the game completely and make it a winner? No, I don’t think so. I think the game is too structurally weak to really ever rise above mid-level, and possibly not even lower mid-level. But I think, along with some sprucing up of motivations and puzzles, these changes could help make HAU better than it is — and that’s worth it, no matter if it makes it into the Top 10 Nancy Drew Games list or not.

[nataliedanovelist]

(I did not draw this, my friend, @missinspi, drew this for me) (https://www.deviantart.com/missinspi)

Wanna read fics with this OC in it?

For a fic close to canon Gravity Falls (season 3?), read this.

For an AU about Stan and Ford getting a new neighbor at seven-years-old, read this.

Miscellaneous Oc Asks

@cityandking created a (relatively short) list of random, weird, hopefully interesting OC asks. Feel free to specify a character or just send a couple of questions, and then share it around!

What six CD’s would your OC keep in their car? Is it just a taste/preference thing, or do any of them have particular significance? I can’t think of any particular CDs, but as far as artists go... Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, Queen (or in the Gravity Falls world, the band called King), ACDC, a disk full of instrumental piano music, and a Dolly Parton CD her friend Madeline Ingrid probably gave her.

What does your OC smell like? What does your OC wish they smelled like? Coconut butter, japanese cherry-blossom perfume, and occasionally disinfectant (she works at a hospital). She tried every hard to smell nice, as most women do, and if she feels like work is ruining that, she might use her favorite “stress relief” lotion to help overpower the smells of rubber gloves and baby spit up.

How aesthetically-oriented is your OC in their clothing? Their living space? Their general presentation? If their look™ is mismatched, is that on purpose? Hephzie has a plain, easy-to-follow fashion sense: blue-jeans with t-shirts for casual events, jeans with blouses for nicer days, and occasionally a sweater for the winter. She also has a small love for boys’ clothes; she won’t shy away from mens’ t-shirts or button-ups if they feel nice and look OK. Her living space is relatively tidy (having grown up with grandparents who needed clean floors to avoid falling) but she’s not a clean freak. Her living space is very artsy and mitch-match, having friends all over the world and she loves learning about different cultures. She might have a rug from India by her bed, but a quilt from Ireland on her bed and a small statue from Hawaii on her dresser. With a bunch of hand-me-downs and mis-match tastes, her overall aesthetic is old and comfort.

What one word would you use to describe your OC’s vibe? Chill.

What’s one mundane thing that would throw them off-kilter? Why? Nuclear families. She grew up with her Grandma and Grandpa on her mother’s side. She never knew her father and her mother abandoned her at a hospital, not even waiting to see what would happen to Hephzie. So Hephzie values family very much, but she sees no reason why blood should be the most important factor in the definition in “family”. The idea of a “normal” family, one with two parents who are married and in love, siblings, and occasionally cousins and aunts and uncles, is like a dream to her. It’s nice, but not for her.

What kind of AU is your OC best suited to? What kind of AU would be the worst? Is there any AU that would be, objectively, just really funny? Hephzie is in 2 AUs: one pretty close to canon Gravity Falls, and one in which she grows up as neighbors to Stan and Ford. Both AUs are very interesting and I love seeing how she responds to each scenario, but I think the more “tragic” of the two is the canon-like one. I’ve toyed with an AU of her becoming a singer and I can see it going either two ways: either she crumbles under the pressure and gets into drugs and overdoses, or she flourishes and uses her money and power for good, like feeding the hungry and helping the homeless find homes.

If your OC could pick a different name, title, or pseudonym for themself, what would they pick? Why? Have they ever been given an alternate name/title, and how do they feel about it? Well, her birth name is Alicia-Sarah Hephzibah Fisher Cece, but she HATES the name Alicia-Sarah and only goes by Hephzibah/Hephzie. In one AU, she legally “fixes” her name.

If your OC were playing D&D, what would their race and class be? What backstory tragedy™ would they give their character? Does that reflect their own life in any way? Be honest. Okay, because a certain extra-special person in her life loves D,D, & More D, she plays, too. She’s an woodland elf, a healer, and has very little interest in her character, but she likes the storytelling and the praise she gets if she manages to heal a wizard with pointy-ears and fluffy brown hair named Rokuro the Righteous.

Star Wars or Star Trek? A certain boyfriend of hers likes Star Trek better, but she likes Star Wars better. It’s been a bitter rival since the beginning of time.

If your OC is from a fantasy world, where in the real world would they come from? If your OC is from our world, which fantasy world would they most want to live in? Bonus: Would you ever write/RP them in that world? Hephzie grew up on Irish folktales (her grandmother’s family is from there), so she would love to meet færies and see magic and meet a selkie. Screw being a mermaid, she wanted to be a selkie! And... no, don’t expect a fic about this.

What plant, animal, and color does your OC feel like today? A Venus Flytrap, a mongoose, and the color dark-green. It’s been a rough day but she’s keeping a level head.

If your OC were a superhero, how flashy would their costume be? Also, what would their superpower be? Does this go with their costume at all, or are they all about fashion? #Can’tFightCrimeIfYouAin’tCute Well... in the canon-like AU, she’s kinda a superhero already, so... think something like a knight’s armor on the arms and legs with a maroon cape. Power would be healing, but she can also fight hella well with a sword and bow-and-arrows. And she’s never cared about looking good, she just wants to survive the war...

Does your OC thrift? Buy designer? Where would they shop irl? GOODWILL FOR THE WIN!!! She and her friends called it “treasure hunting” in high-school and it stuck. She loves it, and when a certain somebody came out with a song about it, she was livid (even if she was fifty-something years old).

Is your OC superstitious? If so, what superstitions do they believe? If not, what do they think of superstitious people? She’s constantly around the supernatural and abnormal... and loves it. She thrives off of what is different. So, superstitious?... Hm, she isn’t paranoid or afraid; she welcomes it with open arms.

Is your OC religious? Do they want to be? Have they ever been at some time in the past? How complicated is their relationships with worship/the gods/the church/etc? Her grandparents took her to church growing up and she loved the music. Her grandmother was the choir director and her grandfather played the piano, and she had “the voice of an angel”, so she happily sang in church, but she kinda stopped going to church when she went to college, but if you ask her she’ll tell you she’s a Christian. She says it just makes sense to believe in a god; there’s too much that science can’t explain. She also likes studying Buddhism, Islam, and Judaism to learn more about other people and cultures.

Hardwood, tile, or carpet? Hardwood. But she will NEVER say no to a fluffy rug.

What’s their go-to parlor trick? Are they actually that good at it, or do they just enjoy it? Do people tell them they’re good, even if they aren’t? How do they handle criticism? I can’t really think of a good parlor trick. She has a lot of talents she keeps on the down, like singing and stand-up comedy (don’t ask). On another note, she takes criticism overall pretty well.

If your OC could request one boon from a god, what would it be? The extermination of a certain three-sided demon.

Favorite comfort food? Do they enjoy junk food or are they more of a foodie? Can they cook? What’s their favorite thing to cook? OREOS are HERS! DON’T TOUCH THEM UNLESS YOU WANNA LOSE A HAND! She also secretly loves watermelon (doesn’t like to tell people this) and her comfort food is either hot tea or hot chocolate. Something to warm her hands. And no, she can’t cook; she burns everything. EXCEPT, she can brew coffee and she’s a pretty good barista (was one during college).

Any major theme(s) or conflict(s) in your OC’s life? How have they dealt with that? Are they aware of it, or do they ignore it? Did you design them with such theme(s)/conflict(s) in mind, or did they evolve naturally? Loyalty is a huge one for her. I think so many people have forgotten what it means to be a true friend and what real loyalty looks like. You’re willing to go far and wide for the people you care about because you want to, because you get fulfillment out of doing the right thing. Hephzie will have your back, no matter what. She doesn’t care what race, background, gender, sexuality, religion, she doesn’t give a shit. If you’ve got her, you’ve got a loyal friend. IOne thing she struggled with - and is only semi-aware of it - is loneliness. She finds it suffocating. It’s slight PTSD from losing so much in her life, and she’s not terribly clingy, but she’ll wallow about it and sink into depression if she feels abandoned or alone. She NEEDS that reassurance that she is not a freak and not alone and that SOMEONE would care if one day she was gone. This evolved naturally when shaping her backstory and realising it needed to have realistic consequences.

If they could steal one major piece of art with no consequences, what would it be and why? Bonus: how would they pull off the heist? Anything Bob Ross. Loves that guy. And she’d probably just recrute Stan to help her with either blackmail or her “Please, for me?” line.

Now it’s YOUR turn!

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Word by Word | 01 (Bangchan x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Romance, University/College AU

Pairing: Graphic design student!Bangchan x Literature student!/Irish!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (but what can you honestly expect when dealing with an Irish person?)

Summary: An ancient saying dictates that polar opposites attract, which is proven once again once an introverted whiskey-loving aspiring author meets a fairly extroverted boy initially proposing to survive the loneliness brought about by academic administration together.

But soon the meaning of ‘together’ expands as personal creative worlds are explored and understanding stirs up hidden emotions.

Masterlist

Next Part

For anxious people, friendly support from strangers oddly turning into companions is often needed to get through the day, finding solace in the kindred spirit of the bond has been established despite being not worth a dime. The previous semester could only be survived thanks to the small group of friends that made the seminars more bearable, huddling together and always having at least one to have as a research partner or discuss a primary source with. Withal, the university administration has different plans for the second half of the year, resulting in the complete split from familiar faces which will now only be seen on Monday for the start of the academic week with lectures.

Henceforth, yesterday was only the misleading silence before the storm, chatting and fooling around with curiously close relationships during the day. As per usual, multiple pairs of shoes found themselves to the habitual café by the canal to go for lunch together in between lectures, but a lonesome soul listening to the vivid chatter only settled for a cup of coffee since the stomach could possibly not handle more because of the all-nighter working on the next chapter of the attempted novel and composing a few more poems for a to-be-published-someday poetry bundle.

A chip off the old block, taking after the grandfather who raised a timid girl to become like this: full of too many voices and writing them down since that is the only acceptable form of schizophrenia in today’s society. Fortunately, it is while enjoying the company of Dante, a Birman with hellishly blue eyes of an extremely distrustful and arrogant nature except when being with an aspiring author rivalling with a relative. He mostly lies on the duvet on nights filled with the self-inflicted torture of bleeding behind a typewriter, occasionally jumping on the desk beneath the attic window where often a raven nicknamed Edgar settles down and demanding to be pet whenever a repose is taken for a glass o’ Irish whiskey when threatening to fall on hard creative times. Otherwise, dirty bean water is grand as well. Whatever the case, Dante conveniently though perfectly times it each time.

In the meanwhile, Virgil is likely functioning as company for Charles, who is also known as “Grandfather” during formal events of which most relate to publishing houses and to which he always has to be dragged while muttering unintelligible Gaelic profanities. Alternatively, it is the first full name whenever competing with one another or simply “Charlie” when the old balding man with a snow white moustache reviews the latest result of typing on the historic sidekick of every author. According to the in-house editor and occasional enemy, a typewriter is the sole source of ‘’pure writing’’ and imprinted the habit of working with the old school machine as soon as hands were able to write the letters formerly merely read in books.

For those unfamiliar with the cats, it is impossible to draw a distinction between the two, but those who look closer notice that Virgil does not share the same eye colour with his brother, the ocean grey betraying the fact the fluffy bastard is indeed that. 

A bastard. 

Exactly like his owner and the owner’s granddaughter who was also born out of wedlock. 

However, even in Dante there is a trace of being not a full blood Birman since his slender skull hints at a Ragdoll influence though the selective sweetheart would never admit to it even if the ability of speech had been given to cats. 

All in all, all of us are outcasts so it has become the running joke beneath the roof of the outskirts mansion we are glorious bastards. Honestly speaking, it has a nice ring to it because if being separated from others for whatever reason counts as a qualification for becoming this, then the lack of pals in primary and high school is not minded. The same goes for the adoption by a loving howbeit harshly critical grandfather because the son who should have been a proper father could not bear the sight of the offspring originating in a scandalous affair with a secretary who had no mother instinct at all, thus sharing in the shallowness with her one-time lover.

Whiskey story nights filled with almost empty pens, digits stained with ink, reading breaks and lots of swearing in frustration or joy have come to form a steady aspect of life, Charlie clearly in a better mood when settling down to shape the rough paper diamonds in each other’s company despite the exchange of insults pertaining to manuscripts or in a loving manner. An Irishman can leave Ireland, but the Irishness will never leave the individual and the island tales that at times seem mere fantastic fancies create a bond with a heritage that would otherwise have never been known.

It is because of Charles, his upbringing that has not been without it struggles, and Dante and Virgil I am still here, exerting power as an author on the Internet after creating a manuscript on the typewriter that once belonged to the moustached man’s close American friend who, too, had a taste for liquor and a talent for writing. 

Apparently, one night at a party, this comrade was hit in the face by a drunken accountant who tried his hand at poetry nobody understood and insulted the boxer’s manhood, causing the offended party to strike the provoker down in drunken rage. Fortunately for the injured, the American was willing to forgive the insult after being offered an apology and the next day the papers reported the incomprehensible poet fell down the stairs, the accident resulting in a broken hip alongside other injuries, thus covering up the truth of being beaten black and blue.

When asking why nothing was done to stop the fight from escalating, the answer is always the same. ‘It was too much fun to see that idiotic sod being beaten up. Furthermore, he had it coming sooner or later because he was a fecking racist prick, Y/N. It was more of a service than a true crime.’

Basically, Granddad sat back with a bowl of popcorn and cheered his boxing buddy on.

Truly a gentleman bastard.

As proves to be an inherent characteristic, judging by the rage coming from the classically furnished writing room on the east side of the house bought with the royalties from writing pieces critical of the human condition and problems rooted in society under the guise of a cleverly composed story. ‘Virgil! For fuck’s sake, ye bloody gobshite!’

‘Charlie, how’s she cuttin’?’ Not so well, judging by the look of pure horror in fast passing stone-toned irises with elated pupils framed by deep earthy brown fur and liquid onyx paw prints creating a trail on the freshly mopped floor. What a way to leave the house before facing the horror of being left alone at the university because everyone has been placed in a different time slot. ‘Although, never mind.’

In the faux leather spinning chair behind the intricately designed baroque desk, agitated calloused fingers run through pale thin hairs while lips are pulled into a snarl at the sight of the obsidian pool of ink staining the pile of blank pages meant to be engraved with poetry. ‘Well, this is just fucking grand, isn’t it?’

‘Think about your blood pressure, ye aren’t all that spry anymore and your fans will not like it if you kick the bucket already.’ Grinning like the purple cat in the favourite story to listen to while sitting by the hearth during childhood, dark flats wander the afromosia floor to the stout big man with an irritated iron gaze that slightly softens at the sight of the lass raised as a daughter rather than a granddaughter, the pupil who has turned more and more into a peer as time went by. ‘And Virgil isn’t as graceful as Dante, prone to causing accidents yet you love him all the same.’

‘Ah, feck off.’ An eyebrow raises in question when settling down into the fauteuil in front of the bureau, casually crossing one leg over the other and endeavouring to suppress the pressing yawns as best as possible. ‘It’s yer first day of university after a week of being a dosser and you pulled an all-nighter while having to show up early. You’re not the full shilling, are ye?’

‘No. No, I’m not, but you are what you eat. I’m fine, Charlie. And I worked on a couple of poems, mind you, and also wrote two more chapters for Paper Wonderland. Furthermore, I read ahead for this block’s course so, overall, I’ve been productive.’

‘You haven’t been until I’ve seen the first drafts.’ It is a house rule: there are no actual original versions of a part of a tale unless the stern editor has seen it and given feedback. Otherwise, it is nothing more than stained paper. 

‘Oi, I want to keep some element of surprise to blow you off yer socks when you read the full result. Where’s the fun in being spoiled beforehand when it can become the reason I’ll finally conquer the throne you’re currently sitting on. One day, one day I’ll finally be recognized as more than mere family.’

The mentor stands up to walk around the chaotically ruined heavy piece of furniture to put an encouraging hand on the shoulder and give it a little encouraging squeeze, which gets nullified by a comment that makes the characteristic need for rivalry flare up. ‘Keep dreaming about that day, ye wee chiseler, and maybe, just maybe you’ll manage.’

A sarcastic mirthless chuckle functions as a nullifying factor for the elder’s smugness while standing up from the oddly comfortable espresso brown chair to head for the door. ‘You really like throwing shapes, don’t ye, gramps?’

‘As much as any grand man.’ The old great man matches the pace to the young feet eventually coming to a halt at the entrance of the writing office. 

At the double doors, on the edge of a casual temporary farewell, all devilishness fades away into fatherly concern due to the realization a difficult social challenge has to be faced, having had many conversations about the introverted anxiety of a mask-wearing lass who merely acts like a young professional while working as a barista to earn a little cash on the side. ‘Take that puss off yer face, Y/N. You’re gonna be grand because you’re a full-grown woman with an Irish background. We’re tough people made of iron who don’t take anyone’s intimidation.’ 

Two big wrinkled hands wrap themselves around upper arms clad in a neatly-ironed alabaster collared shirt as a moustached mouth places a familial hope-giving smooch on the forehead before giving the right cheek a weak playful slap. ‘Now, go, you fine thing. Maybe you’ll catch the eye of a proper laddie.’

‘Feck off.’ A playful punch on the shoulder undoes the intimacy and grants the opportunity to crack on to catch the bus towards doom after putting on a khaki trench coat and slinging the stone-grey laptop bag over the shoulder.

‘I don’t recommend effin’ and blindin’, though. Tends to give a bad image,’ is the last piece of laughingly uttered advice which is seemingly also disregarded howbeit with an absently-minded waving hand wandering down the sandstone cobblestone path towards the main road. 

And before taking an immediate right out of the gate towards the nearest bus stop, the other one holds the habitual saviour in the form of a book already.

An opportunity to escape the nervousness brought about by cruel reality that is taken away when bumping into someone, an accident which still tends to happen despite the mastery of avoidance skills, and the account of the life of a bookseller falls onto the concrete. 

Eyes as big as a doe’s when caught in the headlights of a rapidly approaching car stare in horror at annoyed molten chocolate irises above an admittedly adorable big nose, irritated by an ignorant daydreamer under the constant scrutiny of the world, which quickly gain a weird gentleness when truly looking back. ‘I’m so, so fe- sorry. I should watch where- no, watch my footing. Again, I’m so sorry.’

Please, don’t get mad. Grand job, Y/N. The day’s barely begun and you already messed up.

‘It’s alright.’ Bleached short locks clad in an onyx leather jacket squat down to pick up the paperback on the ground, long pale fingers dusting off the little dirt the impact of the fall has caused to stain the cover before handing it back. ‘You dropped this.’

Trembling hands accept a small piece of peace of mind, gaze averted from the small fading kind smile on the young man’s face to stare with burning cheeks and a raving heart at dark flats aching to flee the situation. ‘Thanks.’

‘Miss? Are you alright?’ The lost distant type of contact from just a second ago is futilely tried to be re-established, unable to connect thus to a soul with a thousand voices within now all rendered to a flustered whisper. 

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll- I need to go. Don’t want to miss the bus.’ A curt nod ends the conversation abruptly, turning away as fast as lightning while muttering a form of apologetic goodbye as the walking pace enhances to a speed barely shy of running. ‘Again, my apologies.’

However, as Fate or mere coincidence would have it, this meeting is not the last as tracks are silently retraced by foreign sneakers as blasting songs from various genres disclose the world from a never tranquil consciousness.

A few minutes more the blissful unknowing continues, reading irises stuck in the sceptic description of a man able to do what wants to be done in case becoming a writer does not work out.

A few minutes more the wind has the possibility to play freely with locks without it being noticed nor minded.

Then all changes with the approach of the awaited vehicle. 

The loudness comes back with the bus.

And an ink-black leather jacket.

[hanabbott-blog1]

have you met HANNAH ABBOTT yet? SHE is aTWENTY year old CIS FEMALE HALF-BLOOD. they live in HOGSMEADE VILLAGE, but they’re originally from BALLYCASTLE, NORTHERN IRELAND. they are best known for being a BARMAID AT THE THREE BROOMSTICKS, and i hear they’re pretty CHARMING yet also SELF DEPRECATING at times.

hello everyone , my name is ri . i’ll be playing miss hannah abbott , i use she / her pronouns. i’m twenty one plus and an absolute sucker for aesthetics, so there’s that. feel free to message me with any questions you may have about hannah. under the cut you’ll find bits and pieces of her character  ! 

   name : hannah sophia abbott

   age :  twenty , born october 3rd.

   former house : hufflepuff

   current occupation : barmaid at the three broomsticks

   affiliation / loyalty : order of the phoenix / dumbledore’s army 

   romantic / sexual orientation : bisexual / biromantic

   patrounus : the hummingbird ––– THE HUMMINGBIRD IS A VERY CAREFREE PATRONUS, AND SHOWS A FREE SPIRIT. THESE ARE THOSE WHO WANT TO ENJOY EVERY ASPECT OF LIFE AND EMRACE IT TO IT’S FULL POTENTIAL. THEY ARE SOCIAL, BUT THEY ALSO NEED AN AMOUNT OF TIME ALONE TO TRY AND FIND THEIR OWN PATH. THEY ARE SENSITIVE AND INFLUENCED EASILY BY WHAT OTHERS SAY ABOUT THEM. THEY TRY TO ACT AS THOUGH THEY ARE INDEPENDENT, BUT THEY TAKE EVERY COMPLIMENT AND INSULT THEY RECIEVE WITH EXTREME CONSIDERATION. THEY WANT TO PLEASE EVERYONE. THE MOST COMMON HOUSE FOR A HUMMINGBIRD PATRONUS IS HUFFLEPUFF. THE MOST COMMON SIGNS ARE LIBRA AND CANCER. (x)

    moral alignment : lawful good

BIOGRAPHY : 

you are born into a soft world, there’s nothing but beauty for you to admire, for you to bloom beneath. your mother brings you up to be nothing short of whimsical, of someone who finds things to admire within the simplest of things. the winds, the flowers, the trees that surround you, they all carry something within them that draws you towards them. you’re a magical being, a bright young witch who finds herself comfortable within the confides of the hufflepuff common room. within the house known for loyalty, you find yourself thriving. there, you find, you’ve found a sense of belonging. 

it isn’t long before you are followed by the shadows, before you give in to your darkest thoughts. a girl so beautiful, so kind. how could she ever think of herself worthy of anything more than the simplest of things? it’s because of this, because you were led to believe that there was nothing ethereal about the way you’d stumble your words in an anxious rage, or the way you’d crumble beneath the pressure of looming deadlines. you were bright, there’s no denying that. but the ghost of laughter as you struggled to articulate your words, as you sat at an empty table on the weekends your classmates wandered around hogsmeade struggling to find the words. 

hannah suffers from anxiety. she’s never truly been comfortable in her skin and so she found being in hogwarts made it worse in the sense that she’d never really considered herself intelligent. she’s a very soft girl, someone who was easily influenced in her early years. so, when others began to laugh, began to shun her for her insecurities, she began to believe them. she wasn’t worthy of anything good, anything decent. she, a fragile girl who crumbled beneath the pressure that exams, essays, and classes caused her. she distanced herself from anything academic in her spare time if only to free her mind of its turmoil. it seemed foolish to some. 

it generally causes her to fall into a spiral of self - loathing. while she may be appearing to be perfectly poised on the outside, sunshine spilling from her skin  on even the darkest of days. inside, hannah finds her own thoughts about herself eating away at her flesh, heart decaying and left to rot in a pit of self deprecation. 

she often says things that are taken in a joking manner. because, as people would point out, she was a blonde. an airhead. a girl who was pretty enough to get by in life. that’s what they told her, and so she began to believe it.

by the time you’re in your fourth year , hufflepuff finally receives the recognition it deserves. you support cedric, you surround yourself with him if only to soak in any confidence that he may exude. to you, he’s the perfect champion. to you, he’s being robbed of any glory no thanks to harry potter. you can’t blame him, as much as the rumours say he’d done it himself, and as much as you turn up your nose at the boy. it isn’t his fault, but the pressure of your peers eats away at you and in turn, your image suffers. you’re seen condoning a bullying in which you’ve only ever endured before. it pains you, yet you continue. it’s cedric’s death that shakes you all the most. he was your light, your hope, he represented everything that was worth being in the world. yet, he’d fallen as easily as anyone else. 

voldemort returns, and your depression hits a high point. you find yourself yearning for any sort of power, anything that doesn’t make you feel so god damn fragile. you find it in dumbledore’s army. you stand behind harry, for he’s felt pain more than you could ever imagine. you fight and you listen and you learn. you find that there’s something worth value in being good at herbology, at being able to brew a potion better than half your class. yet, you keep these things to yourself. you’ve got a role to play, the insecure girl who finds comfort in hearing that she’s kind, who finds glory in knowing that she’s seen as beautiful. your blonde hair grows longer, it’s loose curls against your slightly freckled porcelain skin and when you cast your first patronus, locks of light blonde fly through the room and you swear you’ve never felt more powerful. 

sixth year is a blur. you board the train, you go to the feast, but your only real memory of that year is the loss of your mother. the news that she’s been murdered, found dead alone within your home in ireland. it was a cruel twist of fate. and your usual calm and composed self finds a breaking point. screaming into the void, ripping sheets and drapes and ruining the dormitory that took you away from the one person in the world you loved most. you leave, tell yourself you’ll never return to the place that had never learned how to appreciate you anyways. you’re alone, orphaned, living in a small coastal home. you spend your nights curled up, a sorrow filled song bird, humming aimlessly into the night as your mothers room remains untouched. professor sprout offers her condolences, offers you a place to stay within your old dorm for holidays, asks you if you’d like to return. you decline, you ignore. your life is filled with silence, it’s filled with darkness. the world loses its beauty, and you in turn lose your hope. 

you return, and to no surprise, you have to retake your sixth year. people snicker. and you hold your head high because your mother had never taught you to be a coward. you face the world with a new outlook. something stronger brews beneath you. when neville approaches you about dumbledore’s army, you’re quick to swear fealty to whatever it is he’d concocting. you spend your nights comforting the children who meet the carrows in darkened halls and over crowded classrooms. 

hannah was heavily involved with dumbledore’s army throughout her (second) sixth year. she found herself spending more time in the room of requirement than in her own dormitory, hiding out and acting as nothing short of a maternal figure towards cowering children. the beauty faded, but her soft exterior remained. in place of her insides is now something likened to steel. 

she stands by neville, stands behind harry, and takes part in the battle of hogwarts. walks away with nothing but scrapes and bruises

your heart breaks, and you cannot help but recoil into a silent solitude. your seventh year goes by in a blur, and the castle still smells of death to you. it’s that year that you find yourself becoming closer with madame rosmerta, and she sparks something inside you. perhaps it was like bringing a corpse back to life, to see hannah smile. so it doesn’t come to any surprise that after you graduate, a year later than you’d hoped to, you begin working for her at the three broomsticks. she finds you a nice flat in hogsmeade and helps you pack up the childhood home in which you shared with your mother. there’s a photo, particularly beautiful in its nature, of her on your vanity. she walks with you everyday, you swear she’s by your side. perhaps you never got to mourn properly. 

there’s nothing more comfortable than the three broomsticks. hogsmeade is out of the way of london enough that you don’t come into contact with many from your school years. it’s sad, but you like it that way. they’d see nothing in you now that they didn’t back then. perhaps even say that this life was a life they’d always envisioned for you. for, you’ve wasted your talents, but you don’t need them to tell you that. loyalty first, happiness second. it’s what you tell yourself when rosmerta tells you she needs you more oft than not. you’re happy to be alone, it’s safer this way. you see susan as much as you need to, and daphne pops in to make sure you’re alright. goes out of her way to cook you meals to make sure you’re eating. it’s something you’re not used to anymore. someone putting your needs ahead of theirs. 

hannah lives a quiet life. she’s slightly ashamed of her lost potential. given in to the idea that she herself failed. it’s this that drives her to become a healer later on in life, that drives her to take night courses and begin her studies when she garners enough confidence to be okay with being studious once more. 

she paints. sunflowers, oceans, anything that brings a splash of colour into her life. she doodles on her skin, on napkins, on parchment. always artistic. 

she believes in the good in people. it’s this reason alone that hannah doesn’t believe in the persecution of any of her fellow students. that they should be on the end of a wicked witch hunt so to speak. she believes in second chances, and that people are only as good as their circumstances.

hannah’s mother was a pureblood who fell in love with a muggleborn man who’d left her upon finding out she was pregnant. it’s the reason hannah carries the abbott name. her father’s identity has never been important to her. 

her mother was her hero, a renowned cursebreaker and a wonderfully brave woman. hannah was in constant awe of the artifacts her mother would bring home, and the plethora of stories she’d provided her with. 

her boggart is failure. lmao it’s ironic because she feels it everyday.

she’s got an orange tabby cat named des ; short for desdemona. 

she’s gifted in herbology and potions, always has been. once again, hannah is very self deprecating and it was this trait that people found easy to pick at. the more they’d told her she was daft, the more she began to believe it. it’s a big trigger to her anxiety. 

she’s a soft and i love her to death and i’ll fight anyone for her. facts are facts.

she’s scarred from the war, depressed and anxious. but she smiles through it because she’s got no other choice. other people lost brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers. her happiness has always come second. she doesn’t believe she’s got the right to grieve, to properly mourn. and so she bottles it inside and helps others. 

[lalka-laski]

What’s the last vegetable you ate, and when did you eat it? Ermm... some peppers in my cheesy chili burrito yesterday. The healthiest way to go about eating veggies, I know

What was your last Facebook notification for? A like on a photo

What bands have you seen live? Too many to list. I live for shows!

Tell me an interesting fact about your mother: She was born in Belfast & moved to the States when she was 3(?), but spent most of her summers back "home" as a child and teen. This was at the heart of The Troubles in N. Ireland so she has some colorful stories for sure.

What do you think is the most important thing to happen to you before the age of 13? I couldn't narrow it down to a single event. Unless we count the trauma I experienced that gifted me my PTSD, anxiety, & various other mental illnesses. But I don't want to deem that as "important."

What were you super against as a young child but aren’t anymore? Hm... I definitely had a lot of internalized misogyny growing up, so really any side effect of that. Now I love women, support women, and root for women, instead of shaming them or letting my jealousy overtake me!

What are your plans later today? Blue Barn Cidery! It's a beautiful day to get day drunk :)

Are you doing anything exciting this weekend? See above! Then tomorrow I'm getting brunch with the in-laws & then possibly day drinking round two? Do I have a problem??

Who do you talk to the most? Glenn, with Kathleen as a close second.

What are some things you do regularly that make you feel old? Welp, I just went to the mall yesterday and was absolutely baffled by all the shit I saw on the racks. That made me feel ancient!

Who is your best guy friend(s)? Sean. And Glenn too, but ya know he's technically more than a friend :P

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I don't mind my complexion but seeing as everyone feels the need to poke fun at it or make snarky comments about it, I guess I'd like to be a touch darker.

If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? I'd like to say I'd keep it. Scars add character.

Have you had an x-ray in the past year? Nope

Do you think your first love still loves you? He still has feelings for me. Most of which are regrets and "what ifs" so I wouldn't say it's LOVE necessarily but, yeah.

What is something that is “going right” in your life? My beautiful, fulfilling relationship with Glenn. And my equally beautiful & fulfilling relationships with my other loved ones.

When did you feel ready to start dating? Honestly I never felt "ready." Relationships were always scary territory for me.

When was the last time your pet bit you? If you don’t have a pet, have you ever been bitten by someone else’s? I don't have a pet.

Where were you the last time you made out? Our bed

When was the last time you cried tears of joy? I came close to it yesterday! It's a frequent occurrence for me (and for that I'm grateful)

How do you type your sad smileys? :(

Do you have “decorative hand-towels” that cannot be used in your house? Nah

What was the last soda you drank? Root beer yesterday

What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? I got a scuffmark on my brand new sneakers yesterday and Glenn said "Are we surprised? You ruin all your shoes" (To be clear I wasn't offended. He's right! I'm reckless with my shoes because I prefer just being barefoot).

Have you ever had any type of surgery? Yeah, a few minor ones.

Should kids be allowed to get tattoos/piercings without parental consent? Umm, not sure

Who was the last person to hit on you? Can we count Glenn?

What was the last thing you decided not to do, that you were supposed to? Answer the phone

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell someone? Oh boy. Any kind of rejection is hard for me so anything in that realm.

What do you put on hot dogs? Mustard, and maybe some relish or sauerkraut

Ever fallen in the shower? I don't think so? Which is surprising.

Do you think that things will get better? They're fantastic right now but yes, I do see them getting even better than this!

Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? I mean, not to my knowledge. But who knows.

What’s your favourite book genre? Realistic fiction/domestic fiction/family sagas

Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? Yep

Do dogs like you? Weirdly, yes. But the feeling isn't mutual. Sorry, pups!

Would you say that you project an air of authority? Not even a little bit

Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? Nah

Do you use one towel when you shower or two? (one for hair, one for body) One

Have you ever been to one of the great lakes? I live right on one of 'em

Who do you know that had a baby recently? My friend Tori just had a beautiful baby girl!

Do you like Usher’s songs? Yeah, he was pretty iconic in my middle school years. His music takes me back to cucumber melon body spray & glittery eye shadow.

When was the last time you went to a waterpark? It's been too long!

Have you ever ridden a train? Yep, and I love it.

What do you eat your French fries with? Ketchup or mayo

Do you have family problems? Who the hell doesn't?

What’s the last food you ate that was stale? Hmm... chips?

How do you like your grilled cheese? I recently discovered the delicious of adding a little Caesar dressing to a grilled cheese and OH MAN OH MAN.

What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? This is baking, not cooking, but I made some focaccia bread the other week & really struggled. What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? Reading and writing, of course. I was also a big fan of drawing & any other type of craft.

Have you ever been close to drowning? I don't think so.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Mhm

Do you like doing housework? No thank ya

Would you ever get implants? Yeah

Do you own a robe? Several!

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Kathleen

Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off? Yeah, I leave no crumb of my pizza untouched.

What was the last song you listened to? Kangaroo by David Gray

Have any of your family members been to jail? Some members of my extended family

Is there anyone that you feel you still need some closure with? Nah not really.

Can you remember when you first learned how to read? I don't remember but it was younger than average.

What event in your life has transformed your personality the most? Didn't I already answer this?

Have you ever had any teeth pulled? Fucking seven. At once!!

Do you still want to be what you wanted to be in elementary school? Yeah! I always wanted to be an author (and illustratorr, but I scrapped that one).

What’re some TV shows that you would like to get into? I'm not much of a TV watcher so I can't really think of anything.

How would you feel if you were drafted for the military? I'd die?

What is your favorite Queen song? Under Pressure ft David Bowie. Of course <3

Do you know how to use any foreign currency? I go to Canada several times a year so yeah. Though that hardly counts, ha.

Been kissed by someone who you knew was “bad” for you? Yep. But never again.

Ever taken an at-home pregnancy test? Yep

When was the last time you were at a loss of what to do? Daily?

What did you do on your favorite date with a guy/girl? My favorite date days with Glenn are when we stroll Park Ave hitting up all our favorite little shops and bars. We always make a stop at this delicious chocolate shop and stock up on sponge candy, and then we end the night at our favorite Japanese restaurant for ramen & sake!

What’s a movie you have seen in the theater more than once? None I don't think?

What is the reason you’re still alive? My family & friends

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? Yeah

Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? Sometimes

Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) DANIEL FUCKING RADCLIFFE LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Absolutely

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? Felt pretty damn great actually! I was excited for the day ahead. I didn't even mind the fact that I have to work this morning :)

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? We're not that type of family. We express our love in different ways though, and I'm perfectly content with it.

Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Yeah

Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? BOY HE BETTER NOT HAVE lmao

The last time you dyed your hair, what color did you dye it? Same as it ever was

Think of the last time you went out to eat. Who paid? Glenn & I went to the food court at the mall and got separate things that we paid for on our own

Do you save at least 15 percent of your income? HAAAAAAAAA no

Do you ever go on Reddit? If so, what are some of your favorite subreddits? It's my go-to bedtime reading! I love askreddit, antimlm, amitheasshole, glitch_in_the_matrix... tons more.

Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? I was the flower girl for my aunt's wedding! I made it all the way down the aisle, then turned around & noticed everyone staring at me and burst into tears. Classic Elizabeth.

Are your parents in good health? Thank God, yes!

Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? No

Is there any type of medicine you can’t take? For what reason? Not that I'm aware of

Do you have a favorite pair of pajamas? What do they look like? I have several cute pairs! But my go-tos are just nightgowns or big tee shirts most of the time.

Do you have any interesting pillow cases? Uh I wouldn't call any of them interesting.

If something on your body hurts, which part is it most likely to be? None!

Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Neither really

Have you ever worn fake nails? If so, what did the last pair you wore look like? WOW I am literally wearing press-on nails as we speak. Yes, I'm trash. And yes, I love it.

Is Russian or Native American history more interesting to you? Both?

[ssocatherine]

100 OC questions - Answered!

@hobbithorsewhat you asked for this

1. What do they smell like?

Catherine smells like lavender all the time, she is obsessed with natural scents like essential oils and is constantly putting lavender oil on. Sometimes, she smells a little like cigarettes.

2. What is their voice like?

Catherine has a somewhat gravely voice, with a light Irish accent.

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Catherine is most motivated by the peace she finds in nature. Her way of life is that she believes that in life, do what you can. This doesn’t mean go and search for ways of changing huge things in jorvik or the world, she just focuses on helping who she can at the time.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

Catherine’s most embarrassing memory is when she was first learning to ride, she and Justin decided to take a little trail ride. She was so distracted staring at him, she didn’t see the low branch in the path and ended up hanging onto it with her arms when her horse walked right out from under her. Justin had to ride under her and lift her off of it due to her fear of heights.

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

Catherine is a big baby when it comes to pain and has little tolerance. When it comes to emotional pain, Catherine is very good at hiding it and doesn’t expose her feelings to many people at all.

6. What do they like to wear?

Catherine really likes to wear leather jackets, sweaters and denim. She also appreciates lace. Most often, she can be found in a cozy sweater, jeans, her black leather riding boots.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Justin was her first real friend on the island and he taught her how to ride and even convinced his father to sell her her beloved Thorn. She never stops worrying for Justin and often draws him in her sketchbook, wondering what he is doing.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Probably octopus.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Catherine sleeps on her side, tucking her knees to her chest and holding a stuffed lobster her mother gifted her as a child.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

Catherine’s favorite food is undoubtedly corn beef and cabbage. Her mother used to cook this for her every holiday and eating it feels special.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

Catherine is insecure about very little, but if she had to pick something she would probably say her hands, only because she has somewhat thick, calloused fingers.

12. How do they like to dress?

See question 6

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

The guilt will bother Catherine until she makes right what she has done wrong.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

When Justin betrayed Catherine she was filled with rage, and threw out many of the things she had drawn of him. Knowing what he went through now, she regrets it but probably would have done the same thing if it happened again.

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Catherine believes her greatest achievement is savings moorland stables. She can’t imagine Jorvik without it and still keeps her horses there.

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Very cranky

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Catherine doesn’t drink, but if she did she would be very honest when drunken and probably reveal secrets she meant to keep to herself.

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

Indie-rock and pop. She likes passion pit a lot.

19. Are they right or left handed?

Right handed

20. Fears?

Stable fires, losing her ability to ride, public speaking

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Fall, nice and cool and sunny

22. Favorite color?

Black and red

23. Do they collect anything?

Catherine collects gems and geodes and also herbs

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold

25. What is their eye color?

Blue

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

White

27. Hair color?

White-blonde (light brown naturally)

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

Absolutely

29. Are they a morning person?

Yes!

30. Sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

A little bit of both but mostly organized

32. Pet peeves?

She hates when people hurt those who cant fight back like animals, and also unwarranted advice.

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

Justin’s jacket tbh

34. Least favorite food?

Tuna fish

35. Least favorite color?

Purple

36. Least favorite smell?

Cooking mushrooms

37. When was the last time they cried?C

Catherine doesn’t cry often but after Justin was arrested, she went home and had a good cry.

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

No

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

She fell off of a green appaloosa, her horse Flurry to be exact, and broke her wrist.

40. Do they have any scars?

A scar under her eye from a dog bite, and a cigarette burn on her upper arm

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

Anxiety is somewhat prevalent but getting better.

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Smoking

43. Why might someone dislike them?

Catherine can be somewhat annoying in the fact that she doesn’t like to be told what to do, so if someone told her how to do something she might annoy them by not doing it that way or not listening.

44. Why might someone love them?

Catherine is very kind and devoted to those she loves. She is selfless and beautiful and dedicated.

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Absolutely

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

Yes, though Catherine would trust her life to very few people they do exist.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Yes, Catherine is deeply crushing on Justin Moorland and has been since day one.

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

Things between her and Justin are confusing right now, and she hopes that he makes a move soon because waiting is growing more difficult.

49. Do they like surprises?

Yes!

50. When is their birthday?

November 8th

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

Not really

52. Do they have any family?

Yes, a mother and a sister

53. Are they close to their family?

Geographically, no. Emotionally, yes.

54. What is their MBTI type?

The doer

55. What is their zodiac sign?

Scorpio

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Hufflepuff!

57. What D&D alignment are they?

Chaotic good

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

Very often, and they’re often about her horses being stolen for some reason

59. What are their views on death?

Though she is scared of her own, she looks forward to what comes after

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

A crappy pun tbh

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

She loves to draw and listen to music

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

She would always be outdoors if she could

63. Do they have an accent?

Yes, Irish

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

Probably a grimace, she likes vanilla cake

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

She would probably tell her family she loves them, and tell Justin to have her horses and that she loves him aswell.

66. How do they feel about sex?

Catherine was somewhat of a promiscuous person back in Ireland and enjoyed the act but she has had other focus’s in Jorvik.

67. What is their sexuality?

Catherine is Bi but prefers men mostly.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

No, though she is a baby about pain she is somewhat fascinated with blood, sick as it may be.

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

She hates mold and rotten food!

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

I honestly cant pick one!

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

To a point. Catherine does like to help, but she hates being taken advantage of.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Pineapple

73. Do they have a pet?

Many horses and a few cats!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Yes, but she gets over things relatively quickly. When angered, she will go off in a rant and then storm off, possibly returning to go off again.

75. How patient are they?

Catherine is very patient

76. Are they good at cooking?

Very good! Her mother was a waitress and while waiting for her mom to finish her shift, Catherine often learned from the chef at the diner.

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

You idiot! Catherine says you idiot only when extremely angered

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

She will say hello to everyone and practically skips when walking and becomes very generous.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

Depending on the person, she will usually ignore them

80. Are they trustworthy?

Somewhat. Catherine is very kind but depending on the situation, she isn’t afaid to do what needs to be done.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Yes, Catherine often his how she felt growing up because her sister struggled so much she didn’t want to be a burden on her mother.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Not really, except for riding.

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Very. Catherine is beautiful and she knows it.

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

Freckles, brown eyes, and especially height.

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

She finds men who are kind and gentle attractive, especially when they aren’t afraid to be honest or afraid.

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Yes! Especially ice cream.

87. What is their age?

22 years old

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

Relatively tall at 5’7

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

She sometimes wears glasses just for fun.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

Yes

91. What is their sense of humor like?

She makes very dark jokes but also enjoys a good pun

92. What mood are they most often in?

Happy and content

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who are inconsiderate

94. Outlook on life?

Be the change you want to see

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Hurt/dead animals

96. What is their greatest weakness?

Justin moorland

97. What is the greatest strength?

Justin moorland

98. Something that they regret?

Justin moorland

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Moving to Jorvik!

100. What is catherines favorite hobbies besides riding?

Catherine loves to paint, draw, and dance but most presently, she loves to practice shooting her bow and arrow.

[celticseastar]

Chapter 1  Dubh linn

Maire’s first post.

…and there was a small cottage along the big sea, nestled in some trees where Maire went for alone time.  On this morn she rose to sit outside it along the rocks to enjoy the quiet.  There was not even a ripple to lap upon the shore and the sands were firm and wet with stillness.   A perfect time for thinking….. Restless and slow, the huge ball of orange fire, lifted out of the sea, and a cloudy Irish sky welcomed it.  Maire welcomed it as it was reliable.  The Irish believed that water….the air, earth, and fire were the elements of life.  Her people were grateful for it.

Downstream, there would wake, a bustle on the wooden quay; as shipbuilders resumed their work once more.  Maire thought about the way of life in Fingal Town.   Three cultures living in harmony; the Picts, the Norse and the Irish….even she had them in her veins….and she desired  that she would live to tell the tale.  

Her father and those before him wanted it so …made it so that his descendants would remember the lessons, the struggles and the dreams of those who came before.  Maire knew her roots; and as she gazed out over the Irish Sea, a warm pride filled her.  

Morning was Maire’s favorite time.  It was a time for musings, a time to make connections and to make sense of her being.  Something in her past had made this so, this desire to look for beauty among those who had come before in order to go forward.  Maire knew she was different than her sister and brothers.  She wished there was a way to “keep” the stories she knew.  She could read and write.  She dreamed of writing it down....making a book~ like the monks in the monasteries.  But her people were pagan.  Not that being a lover of the old ways was backward, but she loved knowledge.

Maire started coming to the cottage, even as a child with her mother.  Sometimes they came because her father had gone: traveling…meeting with clans or other minor kings in Mide….  sometimes he was at a Dyflin Town meeting with the underlord, King Silkbeard, who was also Maire’s uncle.  She was of Viking descent through her mother.  

As she grew older her mother, Maul Muire ingen Amlaib went to the cottage to be alone.  Maire feared she was sad….and that is when she became lonely.

This morning she was at the cottage alone, and when she awoke, ventured out onto the rocky shore. A few stray auburn tresses blew across her face as a gentle mist soothed her cheeks.  As she walked she drew near to the wooden quay, where long ships were roped, built, and hoisted.  Maire waved to a group of workers as they were just arriving for the day.  Most were Norsemen, yet because through the years, the Irish had intermingled and married, the two cultures had become one.

Moving back toward solid land, Maire caught the whiff of coffee and pork wafting through the air.  It’s origin was the bar on the corner on the main street which fed onto the quay.  

Lifting her linen skirts, the princess entered the open doors, lowered her face, not really wanting to draw attention, she slid onto a small wooden chair at a table near a window which overlooked the sea.

Her thoughts ventured out, studying the shapes and sizes of the Viking ships lining the horizon beyond the shipyard which were tied along the Dublin shoreline.  Gulls were gliding and feeding overhead, while the smoke from fisheries and shouts from men gathering up nets, and lobster pots flew into the crisp, morning air. She scarcely noticed when the barkeep placed a mug of cocoa and a nutty scone before her.

This was a place she had frequented often…mostly as a young adult, but even when she was a child, she would come here, with her mum.  Everyone knew she did not live here, in Dubflin, as it was called by the Ostmen.  The people, her people, the Irish before that, named it Dubh linn meaning “black pool” because it was located where the River Liffey and other streams met as a deep bay. But she loved it.  It was taught to her even then, that this was a place to come for comfort.  A place free from attitude, where one was not judgmental because everyone was the same yet different.  

Maire was sure she was overthinking this morning, but hadn’t she heard her father, the King of Mida, tell a King in the North that he was looking to marry her off?  Didn’t she know that it was important that she marry another with O’Neill bloodlines or at least with those of her mother?  Her elbow was now bent on the table, her hand rested submissively on her forehead.  She did not want this.  Not now, not ever.  Memories of her mother’s tears and unhappiness came flooding back to her…Mael Muire, daughter of Ambaib had not taken to the life of a Celt.  Maire knew there were other reasons for her mother’s despair, but she had given her husband four children just the same, the eldest being Maire.

Maire began her tired musings; about how she might escape the whole royalty scene.  How she might fall in love with a sailor and escape all the politics and conflict in Ireland at the time.  How she might find romance and together they would find a beautiful ‘island somewhere to settle on.  There had to be such a place, the oceans should be full of them.  Who and where would that be, she mused, and exactly what was love?  The princess closed her eyes to imagine, just in time to notice a sandy haired monk clothed in a brown hooded robe, slide into the chair opposite hers.  

“Father Cinaed!  Good morning, how are you?”  she tried to sound welcoming.  ”You caught me in a daydream.”

“That I did, Maire, as I’ve been standing here for a while waiting for you to invite me to sit.   I am fine, and what about you?  What brings you to Dyflin this morn.”

“Weel, I stayed in the cottage last night.” He nodded understandingly and sat silent, allowing her to continue.  He knew that there would be a story behind her coming.”  She winced, knowing he would drag it out of her if she hedged.

“Things are unhappy at home.  My father spends so many hours at Dun na Sciath…I fear mother may leave him.”  The monk drew a breath, he knew the Mide King had made many unpopular decisions as of late.  So many had been pleased when he had triumphed over the renegade king from the southern part of the island.  So many had seen it as a victory, and that peace would prevail.  But now the greedy Munster leader was thirsty for more…and Maul Sechnaill was considering submission.  

“We are caught in the middle, Maire.”  We have friends here in Dyflin.” His head lifted, so his eyes could scan the bar.  Up until then, both had been huddled close, their voices low.  Cinaed had attended formal education as Maire had, at the monastery in Kildare.  There he had studied religion, and she literature and history.  Both could read and write.  Because of the spread of Christianity, many scholars, bishops, artisans and musicians, had gathered at the monastaries which were thankfully protected throughout Ireland.  Children with royal blood attended classes there, but even common folk could attend the one in Kildare.  It was founded by the famous priestess, Bridgit.  She was now regarded as Saint Brigid for her diligence and faithfulness to draw others to the Lord.

Maire frowned, “I admit, I’m not knowing where I fit, Cinaed.  I love my father.  I know I’m like him.  My love for stories… and our past.  But I want more than the life of a royal.  I fear I will be unhappy just as my mother if I marry and have children.”

The two friends were silent.  Cinaed would understand as he had made his break from a powerful clan ten years prior, so that he could go to the monastary.  Cinaed was amazingly talented in art and had made his home on Lambay Island.  It had been established followers of Columba, Roman Catholic Bishop, then ransacked by Vikings in the late sixth century.  Cinaed was one of a party of artists and religious to rebuild and recover the settlement.  He worked in the scriptorium there.  

“You are young Maire, and you are smart.  I will pray for you.” He  whispered as he rose from his chair.  I must go to visit a family who has lost a child to disease.  Pray for me, Maire.

Maire sat, ashamed of her petty problems, after hearing the weighty ones of another.  She reached for his hand, squeezed it and smiled.  “I will.”

There were so many sorrows in life, she thought, and so many kinds of love.  How long would it take to learn it all?  Probably forever.  

[emmaaspris]

𝑮𝒖𝒚 𝑴𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚 - 𝑨𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉

Wednesday 4th December 2019

Mckinley is a British freelance illustrator and concept artist who gets involved in lots of diverse projects that rely strongly on his strong character design. HIs work is both hand drawn and digital, beautifully illustrated in a way that every piece tells a story. Today we are looking at his PUCA Festival series, the unspoken narratives behind the drawings and understanding the techniques he used. By the end of this blog, I will be able to understand how he produced these pieces of work so that i can learn from his techniques and perhaps incorporate my knew knowledge into illustrations of my own. 

Upon further research about the context behind these pieces, I have learnt about the PUCA festival in Ireland, a Halloween celebration inspired by Celtic Folklore between the spirit and human world. This takes place between the light of summer and the dark of winter. It is believed by some that this divide causes a tear in the barrier between this world and that of the ‘other’. ‘PUCA’ is taken from a mischievous shapeshifter spirit who is apparently used as a guide for the people throughout the three days that this festival happens. This spirit works along with other mythological beings such as Boan, the spirit of light, The Morrigan, the harbinger of Dark plus mischief-maker and the Fear Dearg. It is each of these ‘spirits’ that these pieces by Mckinley represent. 

I have chosen to analyse one of the illustrations, The Morrigan, as I find myself drawn to its style the most. It is my favourite one of the five.

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒏

The way I think Mckinley has used illustration to tell a story in this piece is the composition of everything on the canvas. Moriggan’s hunched body uses up most of the space on the canvas, giving the viewer the impression that she is powerful and not a character to be naive of. Mckinley has clearly used visual lanuage in every part of the illustration in order to achieve different effects and draw the viewer’s eye to specific parts more than others. There is very little tone in the drawing, as there are no midtown shades between the stark washed out yellow and deep black. His use of lines for texture instead give an illusion of a grey shading when seen from farther away. Without much colour or tone, the artist has achieved a good focus on texture, only using the lines where appropriate, such as emphasising the details in the feathers, claws and hair.  

The only splash of colour in Morrigan is the dull yellow. Despite bright yellow being a typically very happy and positive colour, the dingy saturation of this variant emphasises an aura of sickness and caution. As well as yellow, he uses black to put some parts of the piece in darkness to shine light and texture on others. Morrigan’s feather coat and mask is in bold black in comparison to the rest of the character. This may be to show the separation between the humanoid woman underneath the animalistic features that coincide with the spiritual death theme. As the festival’s theme is about the split between the dead and the living, I think Mckinley’s colour choices are appropriate and necessary in order to fit the aesthetic of the dead and living celebration. 

The narrative of the character is told through the stance of her and the objects around her. The illustration depicts her as being very protective over the skull she is holding, inferring to the viewer that this object is of great value to her.  

𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝑮𝒖𝒚 𝑴𝒄𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚:

When did you start drawing?

Have you always wanted to be an illustrator?

Have you gone to art school/ do you think it is necessary?

How much research do you do before starting a series like your PUCA ones?

Who are your inspirations?

How did you develop your style?

What is the best piece of advice you have recieved?

Do you have a favourite medium? If so, why?

How do you get your name out there.

Why did you chose to become a freelance illustrator?

The question that I contributed to the list was number 4: How much research do you do before starting a series like your PUCA ones? This was his answer:

This really depends. If it’s for a commission. A reasonable amount. You can’t you can get sucked into a rabbit warren sometimes, but that’s a nice side-effect of research. I was recently commissions to design something for a restaurant in an old part of Manchester that has its roots in the fitting trade. I found all kinds of local history, someone is relevant, lots of it was not, but it was all interesting. Learning new things will always trigger ideas. That’s why it’s useful. The client loved it when I told him the idea and it seems to be an important part of the work nowadays that it has a story to tell. On a more personal work I still like to just throw from my imagination. If I struggle with something I will look up summer friends, but I enjoy just having a go and seeing what happens. There are limitations to that, but it’s all but also it’s fun relying on your right mind to dictate what comes out.

[sadoverstyles]

Changing Lanes; Chapter Two

story page

       Tuesday, September 1st

Sometimes I debate calling my parents to have a serious conversation about whether or not I was shaken as a baby. Then I also have to consider whether it was being held upside down for too long, or having the soft spot on my head touched an unreasonable amount. This multitude of questions keeps me from actually making that call, as it seems it would stretch more than five minutes with them, and I've set that as my personal limit. I don't intend on breaking my promises to myself; who can you respect if not yourself?

Either way, I'm left to deal with the consequences of said actions, which means reciting three paragraphs of the speech-that-must-not-be-named out of order. This also means becoming incapable of intelligible thought when under pressure, read: leaving my phone, socks, underwear, and likely other things that I can't even recall now at Niall's flat. I've learned to keep extra underwear in my purse, along with a contact and emergency makeup. Although, as super prepared as I am, I somehow don't keep a spare phone on me.

It's not as though I make an abundance of calls throughout the day, but I'll bitch about not having my phone with me all the same. I don’t have it in my heart to blame it on Niall, as he’s the reason my legs are still slightly jelly and it’s just kind of tough to be angry with him sometimes. So I stick with being angry at my parents for the soft spot/dropping/upside down thing.

As I take my seat in the rows again, the girl to my right assures me that it went so well! I’m not entirely convinced, but tumbling out is a small smile and a thanks! We’ll find out next week when my grade comes.

Class passes slowly as we all wait out the day’s other presenters. Deciding to take advantage of being phoneless (read: distractionless), I work in the library after my next class until I can retrieve my things from Niall’s.

Of course, half an hour into some serious Latin revision, I being to lose focus. The thought flies that I need to call my cousin. Following is the thought that I need to buy toothpaste. Not shortly behind is that I wanted to drop by the bookstore and look around later this week. Next, the thought comes that these phoneless hours will be wasted if I spend them reminding myself of various tasks that are not at all pressing.

I browse my lecture notes for Latin yet again. Mentally checking off phrases and tenses in the recesses of my mind, I feel glad this isn’t my second language. I read somewhere that once you learn your second language, the following ones are cake walks. Recalling the struggle of French lessons, I decided the idea is vindicated.

Hours later, while driving to Niall’s, I know why my professor kept avidly repeating palma non sine pulvere during syllabus week. No reward without effort.

7872

0716

Third branch on the right.

As the knob is turned, my booted feet push immediately through the threshold, “I can’t believe I left my phone here ea-“

Throat tightening, the words are caught before any more can escape. There are more eyes in the room than I was expecting. Four heads, three more than I had initially assumed, are cocked in my direction. Since there isn’t the faintest clue on what to do rolling around in my subconscious, just standing there seems to be the default. Right palm on the doorknob, mouth open only slightly, right foot planted confidently in front of its match, widened eyes glued to the only familiar ones in the room.

I know them all from Niall’s stories, the tabloids, their movie. The only issue is that they aren’t supposed to know me.

“Well, hello.” Louis intones. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“Evaline, you’re here.” Niall burst. His near disbelief is understandable. Two and a half years that these three didn’t know I existed, all demolished in the last fifteen seconds. It almost seems like the end of an era.

In previous discussions on what to do if I ever met the boys, Niall and I had never planned for this scenario. More cunning than this, we thought. Found inflagrante delicto, I was to gush over them and play the ever doting fan. Waving in adoration from the exit as Niall passes the afternoon off as just a one-time thing with a willing woman. My number was never saved in his phone, we both never acknowledged that he had long ago memorized it, so that if seen he could complain about never having anything private from those who made them so famous. He was to then promptly change his number and suggest the boys do the same. You can never be too careful; he was to mimic his mother.

There was no game plan in place for me walking in, knowing how to pass all three security measurements, and seeing his partners. Certainly no strategy to shove under the rug my announcement of having been here previously.

“I don’t have my phone.” I declared, by way of explanation. The time was surely after four, when Niall told me to return. He likely had sent me a text to not come. Now knowing this of course wouldn’t help me, but the ideas of anything else at all to say were so appallingly absent that I couldn’t stand not at least thinking something. Wide-eyed, Niall’s mind seemed to be churning a symphony of gears.

“So you’re a friend of Niall’s? Wha’ luck, us too!” Louis tries again.

Accepting that Niall was getting nowhere fast, I decided it was time to snap into place. Merely thirty seconds had passed in total, but I knew even that mere moment would need serious damage control.  Returning my limbs to a normal position, and with no flicker of a guess as to where the sentence would be ending, I began “Yes, Nia- “

“Eva and I are friends, from Ireland!” Niall’s eyes shone with pride, glazing around the room at the other three boys. The others accepted this for a second, glancing back at their bandmate. The story seemed acceptable, as far as I know they weren’t childhood friends. The only issue that came was that-

“But you aren’t Irish?” Harry’s eyes were skeptical on mine.

Before the first word could fully pass my lips, Niall jumped in again, “American, spent summers in Ireland.” Harry nodded, still not acquiescing to be fully convinced by a lie that felt so blatantly obvious. “We kept in touch,” Niall added.

Liam smiled fondly, full accepting Niall’s explanation, and introduced the three of them. Invited to sit down and join them, I seal the door and glide over to the seat closest to Niall. Deep discomfort and anxiety guided most actions for the moment. When Liam asked what I went to Ireland for, I was pleased for something I could fabricate without much thought at all. “I was visiting family,” I said, “my aunt and uncle.”

Questions toed the tediously expected path; what I do, where I live, when I came to England, why we had never met before. Working to minimize the web of lies we were weaving to his best friends, I kept as close to the truth as possible. We discuss the classes I take at Imperial. I glaze a sweet sugar coating over the reality of my move from Oregon and thankfully no one seems to notice Niall’s thumb drawing slow, small circles at the small of my back. His reassuring fingers return to the chair’s back when the topic moves on, but the movement seems to have been caught by Harry.

Nothing is said if he did happen to see the comforting action. However, green eyes seem to flicker over to Niall more often than the other pairs. Sensing this as a signal that I need to weasel my way from the apartment, I begin the dance of exiting without my desperate longing to do so being clear.

Fingertips itching to check email, I excuse myself to the bathroom. My phone is snatched on the way, three texts from Niall project the screen’s glow.

4 isn’t going to work, come by after 7?

Eva

boys are here, I’ll drop by yours later

I can’t justify the effort of trying to get my payment and sneaking it into my purse that was currently occupying the space between Niall and Louis. Instead, with tight shoulders pressing back and a gracious smile playing on bitten lips, I return to the room clutching my phone. “It’s been great to meet you guys, but I’ve gotta get going.” The lie is easy, common. My tongue doesn’t fight and stumble under the weight.

Niall stands, deciding to see me out. Grateful for Niall’s choice, I almost brush off Harry’s voice, telling myself he’s just saying goodbye. But he’s not. “Come to dinner this weekend, we have to meet you properly. Can’t find out we don’t know someone of Niall’s and not induct them as we should.” The difference in ‘someone’ of Niall’s and a ‘friend’ of Niall’s is not lost on me as it seems to be the rest of the room. Just as well, green eyes are daring me to say no. Daring me to be told that no won’t be an option here.

Waiting for my response, everyone is silent again. I genuinely cannot think of an acceptable reason for me to tell Harry no, and Niall isn’t giving me any clues on whether he thinks I should join or not.  Short of dodging the question and seeing myself out without providing an answer, my best course of action is compliance.

“Of course,” I say. Oh no! Mountains of coursework! I think.

Pleasantries are exchanged as I work towards the exit. I am told they’ll make sure Niall lets me know more about the dinner, but I’m not concerned. My heavy handed professor can ‘drown’ me in tasks at any moment; the beauty of imagination!

Out in the hall, past the sealed door, safe from prying eyes and ears, Niall and I breathe twin sighs of relief. “So sorry,” we splutter in unison. My forehead drops onto his sturdy shoulder and we sit for a moment in comfortable silence.

“Yours at eight?” He mumbles into my hair. This of course was going to have to be Discussed. What’s next? I wonder if he’s going to suggest I pop in and ‘visit’ with him every few months now, keeping up the ruse with a gentle distance. I choose not to wonder if he’s debating ending the arrangement.  Not only is my time with Niall a big reason as to why I’m not living on the street, he means a lot to me. Even without talking about it expressly, after a while this had become more than a transaction. Mornings of bright light on crisp sheets and late night texts saying he needed me and that I was all he could think about would be sorely missed. The idea of not seeing Niall anymore, employer or not, worked as a firm hand guiding my forehead deeper into his shoulder. The arm that slung itself over me, the vigilant fingers that gripped my shoulder, and the five other fingers that laced into my own were the only reassurance given that the invisible hand was acting upon him too.

Needing to return, Niall saw me off with a small smile and a playful smack on his favorite spot. The silence in place of teasing banter was deafening.

At a quarter past eight, Niall let himself in to my small apartment. The familiar grumbles about the unlocked door were reassuring, and beyond that they were ignored behind the TV’s hum. The bolt was flipped, shoes were toed off, a jacket was dropped at the kitchen table, and the couch’s other half sunk. “The Office?” he mumbles. A warm weight is placed across my shoulders again, a soft support for my neck.

I lean into the planes of his chest, nodding. A moment is spent this way, and it crosses my mind that my visual nonverbal of nodding was received by tactile means, he felt it rather than see. The thought is amusing, yet not enough to make me nod again. The silence holds for a few minutes longer until the episode fades to black.

“How did it go, with the boys?” My head is tilted back just far enough to see his face at it’s angle toward me.

“Believed it, all of ‘em,” A smile rests calmly on his lips. I don’t ask about Harry, trusting that he would know better than I if there was an issue. However, the skeptical eyes on Niall’s hand earlier don’t seem to leave my mind.

It wouldn’t be the end if they all thought we were dating, it just wasn’t preferable. So much time had been spent now without the influence of others, and the situation seemed delicate to begin with. With all on the table, we both knew Niall was paying me. The money stopped being the only reason to answer his texts a long time ago, but without it I’d have been back in Oregon before I could finish my first term at Imperial.

“Yeah? Guess you do seem like the type to keep a pen pal for seven years.”

“Oh yah, call me Mr. Impractical, babe.” Two rows of straight-laced pearly whites sat at my eye level as his eyebrows gave spirited jumps

The next episode begins, and we maintain the quiet to watch. Having already seen every episode of The Office (UK version of course, I binge watched on arrival in London), my thoughts were instead focused on the dinner Harry had proposed. While I felt like not going would be the best course of action, I still had to see what Niall thought. Maybe he’d pass along the fib of homework and then tell me to meet him in his bed when he got home.

I’m reminded of the time Niall had called me over, only to be interrupted by multiple calls from Liam alerting that he was supposed to be shooting an interview in half an hour. With hot lips on my chest and quick fingers on my back I was told in no uncertain terms to still be there when he returned. Never a rule breaker, I made use of the new copy of Flowers for Algernon in my purse. Upon return three hours later, Niall found me still in bed, naked save for the book dressing my face. Had I not been near finishing the novel I might have put it away upon his entrance. Either way, Niall didn’t seem perturbed by the sight.

“How about after that dinner this weekend I meet you in your bed, working on that mountain of homework I’ll be building on Friday?” I didn’t look up at Niall as I said it, working to be the purest picture of nonchalance next to him; nose to the screen, eyes glazed, muscles relaxed.

“I think that sounds great, babe, but I figured you’d accompany me to that dinner.” Solid fingers squeeze my shoulder in earnest and I can tell this is one of those moments, where something in the back of my mind is screaming that this means more than just the words he’s saying. Doing anything to tell me that my decision means more than what I think it does. Now that we weren’t wholly a secret anymore, the voice was bolder than ever. “Don’t see the point in hiding now that they see you’re my old friend.”

The noise in my mind calling for thought tugs my attention away from answering, and Niall continues. “They’re all big fans of you, even from the minute that you all talked. ‘Specially Harry, always excited to meet someone new.” He pauses for a moment, and I still have not come to reply. “Not like we can’t take advantage of all your coursework later, I’m sure I can come up with some review exercises.”

I know what he’s really asking (I think), and I can’t find a reason to deny. Just like I couldn’t find a reason to deny him calling me babe, or him visiting my home, or talking about things that really don’t have anything to do with my job. So I tell him I’ll go to the dinner, and that afterwards I’ll memorize chapter four of my Basics of Entrepreneurship textbook line by line in his bed. He quibbles over some of the plan’s details.

The third episode is ending, and the fading screen seems to be a cue for Niall’s hand to roam south. Noses land just left of each other and lips crash. The routine is familiar, but welcome. His broad chest guides me back, molding against my own as I flatten against the cushions. There’s no push to go farther, and roaming hands stray no farther than weak cotton barriers. Making out like this feels like high school, and I remember lazily kissing Christopher Lock my junior year, when making out seemed like the main event.

Older, more experienced, and cockier, Niall is a much better partner. Even knowing that making out isn’t the last base, it’s just as fun. Fingers and lips and palms and a tongue that knows exactly what to do, exactly what I like and how I like it. I don’t know exactly how much time passes before he pulls away, but when he does we sit in silence and watch the last few scenes running on the TV.

When he stands up and drops the fifties on the kitchen table, I don’t watch. He reminds me to lock the door as he’s closing it.

[onewhodresses-blog]

Meet The Ethical Silk Company

This week, we meet The Ethical Silk Company, whose founder, Eva Power, has built the loungewear and bedding company of our dreams. 

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Tell me about by the Ethical Silk Company

We grew up with silk in the house and it was always kind of mythical. My mum would say, “It makes perfect sense to sleep on a silk scarf!”  My grandmother would always have a silk scarf on her head. In her generation after they washed and dried their hair, they would always rub a silk scarf on their hair to make it smooth and shiny.

As a business, it all started with my Aunt Margot bringing home silk as gifts from India. She’s been living there for the past 50 years and would come back (to Ireland) with it. And I just fell in love with the silk.

 How did you realize you wanted to be a designer?

I’m not a trained designer and there was never really any formal realization or anything like that. I started the company purely as a side project, and I didn’t know anything about where it was going to take me. I just loved the silk, I loved working with the silk, and I knew that the silk would make the most beautiful things ever. So I started experimenting with the idea of manufacturing my own silk collection in India. It was a totally natural evolution.

 What motivated your commitment to sustainability in your work?

Well, when I started the company in 2009 I didn’t even know there was such a thing as sustainable fashion. I just started doing my research and would keep coming across things that I knew wouldn’t work for me. I just decided if I am going to genuinely run something, I need to be able to stand by it 100%. I need to run it with my conscience.

I started researching the silk, and then I watched a documentary on silk production. And I saw how in regular production they boil the silk worms alive, and I just thought that was awful. I don’t eat meat but I do eat fish. I’m not a full vegetarian or vegan or anything, but I just was curious to see if there was an alternative. Which is when I discovered ahimsa silk, or peace silk.

 What is ahimsa silk?

In regular silk production, as soon as the silkworms make their cocoon during their natural lifecycle, they put them all into boiling water. The workers just unravel the cocoon while the worms boil. Out of each cocoon, they get one continuous thread that is very fine and maybe 500 meters long.

With ahimsa silk production, they wait until the silkworm goes through its metamorphosis and turns into a moth, then pierces a hole into its cocoon and leaves. By piercing that hole, the silkworm breaks the continuous thread. So, with ahimsa silk, they get much shorter threads. To get a continuous thread, they need to spin all of these shorter threads together. They don’t get as high a yield per cocoon, but it’s a softer yarn (which then gets woven into the silk fabric). Another thing is that ahimsa silk doesn’t have as much of a sheen to it as regular silk—it’s like a matte luster. It’s nearly like a really fine linen.

 What makes the Ethical Silk Company a sustainable brand?

Silk itself is a sustainable fabric that is eco-friendly in its production. To begin with, the silkworms are fed on mulberry leaves so trees are not cut in order to yield the feed. Water is used in the production process to degum the silk, but nothing like the amount of water used to produce cotton.

During the printing and dyeing of the silk, we use azo-free, non toxic dyes and all of the water emitted is treated and recycled for minimum environmental impact. All of our products are cut and sewn in a Fairtrade tailoring unit where Fairtrade standards apply. I personally visit any unit we work with to meet the workers and inspect the conditions. Our US orders are shipped via FedEx, which allows us to use Fedex’s carbon neutral envelopes for most of them. Our worldwide orders are shipped using 100% recyclable envelopes.

 What has the journey been like to manufacture responsibly in India?

It’s been a joy and a struggle. Probably my single biggest challenge in the last few years has been getting my supply chain in India sorted. I work with two companies: one to manufacture the silk, and the other for the cut and sew. And we work almost exclusively remotely. I have young kids as well so for the last couple of years, it’s been difficult to get away. So building the trust and making sure the communication is strong is key because I can’t physically be there.

I’ve worked with the same silk manufacturer all along. We’ve adjusted a lot along the way, but he’s just a lovely man and we’re both on the same page.

For the tailoring, I initially worked with a group that was part of a Women’s Federation. The main lady I worked with there, Sudha, was brilliant. And actually what happened is, through making our products, she saved enough to open her own tailoring shop in Theni and now employs some of the ladies from the tailoring unit. They got so busy with local business that they couldn’t keep up with the growing demand for our silk products. This was just the ultimate thing for me. She has two kids and I think she’s a single mother—the sole provider for her family. Now she has her own business and she employs other ladies. It’s fantastic.

So I started looking for other tailoring units, and it was a lot of adjustment, but I ended up finding this wonderful outfit in Jaipur, run by a woman named Shari, who I love. We are in contact all the time and she’s totally on board with my vision for the quality—that’s the most important thing to me. I want to make things that people will have for years to come. Something that lasts and lasts, and I feel I’m getting that now from a quality perspective. Shari’s also become like a mentor to me. I’m not sure if she sees it that way, but I learn so much from her. The working relationship is so important to me. I love how they work. They really appreciate the quality and value of the silk so they take great care during the production. They’re constantly trying to minimize waste and find things to do with fabric scraps so they don’t just end up in landfill. 

 You’re quite an atypical brand, in fact perhaps you’re the brand of the future, in that 100% of your business is done directly with the consumer. How did you land on this model?

I’ve always sold online direct to consumer through my e-shop. I made a call at the very beginning that I wanted the silk to be luxurious but accessible. And the only way to really do that was to sell it directly without the retail markup, which doubles the price. So I can invest in really beautiful silk and high quality tailoring and maybe it costs $220, so it’s expensive, but a little bit more accessible than it would be at $450 retail. And the price my customer pays is for a higher quality item rather than a retail markup.

Another thing that is really important to be is being close to my customer. I always felt like if I sold in the shops, I’d be another step away. If someone buys something from my shop online, they deal with me. I do a fair in Dublin every Christmas that I’ve done since I began. It’s lovely because I actually get to meet my customers then.

And then because I came to this business without any experience—I’m not trained in fashion or business—I wanted to be in control of the speed and size of my growth. For my peace of mind, I needed to feel like I could control every aspect of my growth and I could grow on my own terms. Controlling my point of sale has been a really great way to do that. And it’s also helped me grow my confidence.

  Tell me about sleeping on a silk pillow case.

Well, it’s really good for your hair and skin. Silk doesn’t conduct static electricity so it reduces hair breakage. I find that I don’t have to wash my hair as often when I sleep on silk at night. And then it’s also really good for your skin. It’s a natural protein fiber with amino acids which are really good for rejuvenating your skin cells. It also doesn’t draw moisture away from your skin and your hair the way cotton does so any night cream you wear is absorbed into your skin and not the pillowcase.

Another good about sleeping on silk is that it’s a natural temperature regulator. If you’re prone to perspiring at night, it can be a huge relief to switch your sheets to silk. It works the other way, too. Apparently pilots in the Second World War, when they used to fly in those open aircraft, would always wear a silk headscarf when they were flying because it was so warming and so light weight as well.

 What have been some of the most rewarding aspects of the work you do and what have been the most challenging?

The most rewarding thing is that I have loads of return customers. They love the product. They trust the quality. They’ve had a great experience, and they come back. That’s been so nice. Another thing is the working relationships I’ve built in India. I just came back from a trip to Jaipur and it’s amazing to see that the work we’re doing together is helping grow a wonderful business there that has such a strong ethos, and directly impacts the livelihood of a lot of people.

I’m also rewarded by the fact that we give a percentage of the company’s profits to charity each year. It’s small at the moment, but growing, and I want it to keep doing so. We’ve donated to Focus Ireland, which helps tackle homelessness here. We’ve donated to an AIDS center in India and they do amazing work with no money at all. So I know the money is going to good places. And I’m proud of it. I’m proud of the whole business and how it’s grown. It’s all been so rewarding honestly.

 What do you think about the role consumption plays in our modern relationship with fashion?

The whole fast fashion phenomenon is upsetting. When a top costs 5 Euros, there’s a reason it’s so cheap. And a lot of times, people are buying something just for the sake of buying it. Where if it’s something you really love, you’re going to enjoy it for years. In some respects, people are disconnected from what they buy and where it’s made and how people are treated who make the clothes. And I think if people knew, maybe they’d act differently. I’ll hear young ladies, especially teenagers, saying they just need a top for tonight because they have nothing to wear. And I’m thinking, gosh, really no clothes?

Over the last few years, just with the exponential growth of the internet and social media, there is definitely a shift going on. Companies are being held a bit more accountable. Smaller companies are introducing sustainable alternatives, and I just think that’s amazing.

 What is your personal approach to getting dressed?

I don’t shop much. I have clothing from 15 years ago that’s my own and I took some from my grandmother that’s amazing. It has lasted for 50 years and still looks great.

When I do shop, I invest in the materials. I love 100% wool and 100% silk. I absolutely love finding that amazing second-hand piece that’s 100% silk and made in France. Pure wool and Merino wool are my favorites, and my favorite wool cardigan is probably 10 years old and still looks perfect. I probably spend more on the pieces I buy, say compared to my friends, but certainly don’t shop as much. I think paying attention to the quality of the materials saves you money in the long run because the pieces last and last.

 What are the things you look for as the signs of a quality garment?

I look at the level of tailoring and the finish. I borrowed a dress from my sister once that she bought from a High Street chain and it wasn’t dyed properly at all- I thought “They can actually sell this?” It looked like an unfinished garment. In terms of the seams, a French seam is the best and will last the longest. It’s harder shopping online. I’ve bought things online before that look fine, and then they arrive and the fabric is awful so I send them back. So you can’t always tell at first glance but picking a piece up and inspecting the seams and finishing and looking closely at how it’s been dyed and finished and how it feels to the touch, you start to develop a sense for when something is well made.

 What do you perceive to be your responsibility as a sustainable designer?

I work to maintain the integrity of the products I sell through the materials I use and the working conditions we ensure for the people all along the production process. My goal is to create long lasting pieces that are enjoyed for years to come.

I know there are care instructions on the website, but how do you take care of your silk?    

Hand wash is fine but machine wash is actually better. I use a delicate cycle and a light bit of detergent. I spin it to take out the excess water, but then I iron it straight from damp. I have found that if I hang my silk things on the line, they end up stiff.

I actually don’t iron anything except my silk stuff. Sleeping on the silk will be good for your hair and skin regardless of whether you iron it or not. But then there’s something so lovely about putting your head down on the end of the night on this gorgeous ironed silk pillow case.

Isn’t that the definition luxury? Something commonplace that’s made extraordinary by that special touch or that extra detail?

Exactly. And also it’s doing the pillow case justice. You have invested in these silk pieces. If you iron them, they’re just so wonderful. It actually enhances my mood. 

You can shop the Ethical Silk Company here and follow on Instagram here. 

 Images courtesy Eva Power, The Ethical Silk Company. Feeling inspired to learn about more brands doing better? Meet Tales of Anyday and By Signe.