#Also using these crayons was probably the most difficult thing I’ve had to do ever

[hasilballward]

they’ve taken over my mind

[firemanwhenthefloodsrollback]

Who Saved The Day? Season 6

Going right back in with season 6 of Who Saved The Day because last time I didn't move straight on to the next series I accidentally left it a month. It's a controversial statement sometimes but season 6 has always been my favourite season by far and I will never get over my obsession with the darkness and moral complexity. I think this is going to be a hard instalment of deciding who saved the day but I'm excited to get started.

A reminder of the rules: in every episode, including the first parts of two parters, someone must save the day including when the day isn't really saved. The day can only ever be saved by one person and when there are multiple candidates, the person who did the physical saving of the immediate physical threat gets the point.

At the end of season 5 we left it with:

Buffy: 54

Willow: 7

Angel and Giles: 5

Spike: 3

Anya, Faith, Oz, Tara, Xander: 2

And 9 characters including Dawn who have 1 each

So without further ado:

1. Bargaining Part 1: Willow

Straight in with a hard one. Willow is the main man in the spell to bring Buffy back, which certainly solves a problem in a more general sense. The buffybot didn't save the day at all so there isn't really another candidate here.

2. Bargaining Part 2: Dawn

I really really nearly went for Buffy here but I felt like Dawn was the one who solved the main problem. Reaching Buffy when she couldn't function like a human being feels like the greatest achievement here. According to my own rules, I really felt like it should have been Buffy getting Dawn down off the tower but Dawn was the one who solved the main problem.

3. After Life: Buffy

Buffy kills the thing with an axe. An underrated and very very creepy episode. The late seasons moved a long way away from the horror movie origins of the high school years, but After Life is one of the greatest horror movie-esque episodes of the later seasons, and potentially also overall. Willow and Tara did the spell but Buffy wielded the axe.

4. Flooded: Buffy

Buffy kills the demon and most, most, most importantly, save the pipework. Now I'm 25 and have my own relationship with the water company I finally understand the true horror of this episode.

5. Life Serial: Buffy

Three times as a matter of fact.

6. All The Way: Dawn

Dawn saving her own life in one of the sweetest late season episode endings, I feel. This episode and a few others like it remind me of how much the things that seem silly and easy to deal with in the later season were major threats early on. For Dawn, this is a disaster on the same scale as the things Buffy was facing and hoping her friends could face in seasons one and two. I love that Dawn got to save herself here and show the kind of strength that Buffy was using to save the day inn the high school seasons.

7. Once More With Feeling: Spike

Xander averted the demon taking Dawn, Buffy and/or himself away to his magical demon world, but Spike saved Buffy's life during Something To Sing About and I feel like I'm gonna count that? It gets presented in the episode as a bigger deal than Xander's saving of the day, which is thrown away as a comedy line.

8. Tabula Rasa: Xander

By accident, but that'll do sometimes. Treading on something by mistake is the kind of saving of the day that I feel like I could actually aspire to.

9. Smashed: Tara

I have absolutely no idea who saved the day here. Normally I'm very insistent on it being the person who stops the supernatural threat saving the day who gets the point, but I really don't know what threat that was here? Obviously a lot is going wrong psychologically, and I love this episode both for Buffy and for Willow, but neither of them faced a 'threat', as such. So the person who solved a problem and kept someone safe at the end of the episode was Tara, choosing to stay with Dawn to keep her safe even when it was potentially awkward.

10. Wrecked: Buffy

It really depends on what the actual villain is here. I originally gave Willow the point for killing the demon that was chasing the car, since that was in a very real sense the monster of the week, but it's just impossible to watch this episode and feel that that was the real threat or the time that the day got saved. The threat here was Willow's addiction and the episode makes it very clear that that's what we're meant to be focusing on, so Buffy helping her at the end is portrayed as saving the day. There's a mystical element to it and it resolves the issue that was the main threat here, so Buffy it is.

11. Gone: Willow

Willow changes the settings on the invisibility gun thing and Willow makes the trio visible again. Just thinking about the trio makes my skin crawl, more and more and more with time.

12. Doublemeat Palace: Willow

How profoundly and wonderfully symbolic.

13. Dead Things: Buffy

Tara honestly deserves it more for the way she talks to Buffy at the end of the episode - one of the rare moments of pure, open-hearted, uncomplicated goodness in a very dark season. Tara is the one who comes closest to making things better here, but the rules I've been using for the other seasons were that the person who deals with the supernatural threat or monster of the week gets the point even if someone else does something more emotionally resonant. I also almost gave it to Spike for stopping Buffy going to the police, but he also didn't really stop her going to the police so no point for Spike. When Buffy recognises Katrina's name and leaves the police station, that's the moment that ruins Warren's plan, so Buffy gets the point.

14. Older And Far Away: Anya

One of my absolute favourite episodes and certainly one that deserves to get talked about more. Anya puts two and two together about Halfrek being the demon who cursed them, and her bringing Halfrek to the house is what gets the curse lifted, so a well deserved point for Anya.

15. As You Were: Buffy

Buffy throws the grenade. Weird episode.

16. Hell's Bells: Buffy

Buffy and Xander do kill that demon communally, but for very obvious reasons I refuse to give Xander a point for this episode and I defend that decision.

17. Normal Again: Buffy

Buffy makes the horrifically difficult decision to go back to the world we recognise so no one else is getting close to this point.

18. Entropy: Willow

Was...... the day saved here at all? Willow solved the issue of the hidden cameras which was technically the threat here I guess?

19. Seeing Red: Xander

My least favourite episode by a very very long way, and not one I ever rewatch. I had to use a plot summary to help me with this one because I just don't do Seeing Red at all. Xander gets Buffy the ambulance, which is the closest thing to saving the day that we get here.

20. Villains: Anya

This episode was so hard to make a call about that it kind of undermines the idea of doing my silly little project at all. Anya finds where Willow has taken Warren and leads the way there, and probably comes the closest to saving the day of anyone?

21. Two To Go: Giles

Giles!

22. Grave: Xander

The yellow crayon speech makes me tear up and it always, always will.

So that was season 6! Some very difficult calls and fewer points for Buffy than any other season by a fair way. At the end of the season we are left with:

Buffy: 63

Willow: 11

Giles: 6

Angel and Xander: 5

Anya and Spike: 4

Dawn and Tara: 3

Faith and Oz: 2

And 8 other characters who got 1 each

I'm excited to get to season 7 and finish my weird little project off. No one is coming for Buffy, obviously, and I'd be very surprised if anyone takes the number 2 spot away from Willow, but what happens further down the leaderboard is anyone's guess.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Soldier Boy (Part 2)

Summary: The reader spends the day with Dean getting to know him some more when she catches him in a lie and discovers one of his most dark secrets...

Masterlist

Pairing: Superhero!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

____

“So how old are you, Solider Boy?” you asked the next day as you walked around the park. 

“Thirty,” he said with a smirk.

“Solider Boy’s been around since the second world war. So. How old are you really?” you asked.

“I was eighteen when I was injected. I’ve aged very slowly. I do age, but it’s slow. They...I shouldn’t talk about this stuff,” he said, kicking at the ground with his boot. “Ah, fuck it, it’s in the news anyways.”

“The compound V?” you asked and he nodded.

“First successful try right here. I was still going through puberty so it took,” he said. “I guess. The science is very complicated they said. They just said you want to serve your country and I signed up.”

“What year were you born?”

“January 24th, 1926,” he said. You paused and he chuckled. “I know some women aren’t into older men.”

“I must seem like a child to you,” you said, walking again and crossing your arms.

“You’re twenty nine. I’m thirty. What’s such a big deal about that?” he smiled.

“You’re sweet,” you said. You dropped your hands by your sides, Dean taking one of them in his. “Old man ain’t wasting his time.”

“Keep it up, kiddo,” he laughed. You laced your fingers together with his hand and smiled as you looked at him. A flannel and t shirt. Jeans and boots. A baseball cap on his head. He looked so ordinary and yet he was the first superhero in existence. “I’m sure you’re wondering if I ever had a family.”

“A bit. It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” you said. 

“No, I want to. I don’t talk to anyone anymore. Aside from the people at Vought to try and get in The Seven but that’s like beating a dead horse at this point,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently I’m too similar in the market sector as Homelander. Go ‘merica and color scheme and that shit. I didn’t ask to be the leader or anything. I just...want to get off the kiddie squad, go do real shit out there, help people, not the stupid stuff I do now.”

“Maybe that’s why you don’t fit on The Seven. You want to help people, you don’t care about the photo op,” you said.

“I’m gonna keep trying,” he said. “But to answer your other question you didn’t ask, no, I never had a family. I had parents and a brother but they’ve all passed away. All my friends are gone. It never seemed right to love a girl and have a family and watch them all grow old and...honestly I didn’t want to watch my children grow older than me and die. I can’t imagine anything worse than outliving them.”

“You’re a good man, Dean.”

“I had the occasional acquaintance, don’t get me wrong. But it was always casual, no titles, nothing formal.”

“Is this casual?” you asked. He shook his head and you bumped his shoulder. “What’s different this time?”

“A chemical made me this way. Maybe a chemical can unmake me this way. We are so advanced now compared to back then. Maybe I can age normally with some other combination. Maybe I’m stuck like this forever. I just know that the numb pit inside of me woke the fuck up when I met you and it has been quiet for a very, very long time.”

“My mom’s quiet a bit older than my dad. Age gaps don’t scare me,” you said. He chuckled and you held onto his arm. “You don’t sparkle like the twilight guy though right?”

“Oh my God, no,” he laughed. “No sparkles here. I do make sparks when bullets bounce off of me though.”

“Well now you’re just bragging,” you said. You rested your head on his arm, thinking back to a movie you used to watch as a kid, Solider Boy the lead in the thing. “Dean.”

“Hm?”

“Why did you just lie about not having a family?” you asked, pulling away from him. You knew you could have let it go, should have let it go for the sake of the mission but damn you were pissed off at him for lying to you. You crossed your arms and he frowned, going over to a nearby bench. You sat down next to him, Solider Boy rubbing his hands together. “You were in this movie my brother loved so I watched it all the time. He was a huge fan and he would never shut up about you. I never paid much attention but I remember. You had a wife and kids once.”

“You’re gonna leave after I tell you this part,” he said, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m gonna leave if you don’t tell me the truth right now. You will never see my face again. You promised you would not lie to me. Out with it Dean.”

“I wasn’t always a good person. It’s very...difficult to stay good when there’s so much bad around you. When there’s no consequences.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

“My son and daughter died hating me, thinking I was a monster. They died because of me. That was the breaking point for me. I walked away after that, I started over. I’d turned into this thing I didn’t recognize. I became Soldier Boy. Dean Winchester...he died back in that war. Not until the nineties did I realize what had happened to me. So I left. Went away from the world. Brought Dean back to life and Soldier Boy came back but different. Good this time. Greed, corruption. It’s not happening this time. Then you said...you made that comment about me being naive, that I’d turn eventually into an asshole supe like the rest of them. I’m terrified of that happening to me again. Maybe that’s why I like you, cause you’ll remind me not to be a monster again.”

“Why do you call yourself a monster?” you asked quietly.

“The first time I killed someone, I was mortified. The last time I did it, I laughed. It made me happy. I hurt him before I did it even. I stopped caring about people. My wife wanted a divorce. I thought she was hot, she fit my image. I told her I didn’t want one so she took some pills and told me she’d rather die than live with the devil. My kids were young adults, late twenties. I snapped at them when they blamed me for their mother’s death. My son hit me so I pushed him and he hit his head. My daughter ran out, afraid of me and was hit by a car. They died because I didn’t want to lose my image. I wasn’t even that upset at first. I thought a widow superhero, that’ll boost my numbers.”

“If that didn’t…” you said, Dean running his hands over his thighs. “What made you change?”

“I found a drawing my daughter had made me when she was small,” he said. He took out his wallet and unfolded a laminated sheet of paper holding it out to you. It was done in crayon, a few stick figures with one of them wearing a superhero outfit and the word “daddy” written above it. “She loved me once. I ripped it away from her. I found that cleaning out the house and I realized what I’d done. I’m worse than any bad guy there ever was for doing that to them. I stopped caring. When you stop caring is when you lose those bits of your soul. They break off until there’s nothing left. I am a monster, Y/N. Nothing I ever do can make up for it and save whatever shattered pieces are in there. But I owe it to my kids to be good and stay good.”

You handed the sheet back and he tucked it away, his wallet going in his pocket as he stared out at the trees across the path. 

“I understand if you would no longer like to see or speak to me again. Or if you want to slap me in the face. That’s also acceptable,” he said.

“What year was all of this?” you asked.

“They died in ‘92. Then I ran away to Kansas, worked as a farmhand for a while,” he said. He rubbed his palm and stared down at his lap. “Just...be careful at night and try to stop walking down alleys for me, okay?”

“Why are you saying that?”

“I’m never going to see you again after you get up from this bench.”

You stood up and he let out a sigh. You took a step to your left and sat down closer to him, turning your head as Dean looked so horribly confused at you. You couldn’t walk away. It wasn’t an option. But while you knew you couldn’t walk because of the mission Butcher had you on, you didn’t want to. There was so much self-hate inside of Dean he hid well and part of you ached that he considered himself sub-human.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Dean. What happened to your family was horrible but they were accidents. Your daughter, your son. Your wife, did she even let it sink in for you before she did that? If I was married to someone and they suddenly asked for a divorce my gut reaction would probably be no too. I’m not saying you didn’t play a part but those were her actions that trickled down and affected the rest of you. Letting yourself become corrupted means you’re human. We all make fucking mistakes. Yours are a little big, I admit that. But you try to make up for it. All you can do after the fact is try and you’re doing that. There’s a soul in there Dean. If there wasn’t this wouldn’t be eating you alive. Cut yourself a break. I gotta process everything you said but I’m not walking away. Promise you will never lie to me again and I can promise you that I won’t judge you, no matter what you’ve done.”

“I’ve been around 95 years and I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said. “That’s a good thing. I will never lie to you again. I swear. I’m sorry. I was...frightened of telling you who I was deep down. I like you. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt in a long time and I don’t want it to go away just yet.”

“It’s okay that you were scared. Maybe on our third date we can have a less intense conversation. We can talk about how you’re older than sliced bread,” you teased. 

“You youngin’s don’t know how good you got it,” he chuckled. You took his hand into your lap and he smiled. “Not a monster to you?”

“No. Just be a good guy and I’ll be happy,” you said. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, Dean looking you up and down.

“I wish I knew you when I was a dumb kid that let them shove that stuff in me. I never would have said yes if I had a girl back home.”

“Well, from now on, maybe just ask if you think I’d be proud of what you were doing. If the anwer’s no, maybe don’t do it,” you said.

“I’m gonna keep that one,” he said. “Also did you subtly drop that I’m getting another date despite all of that?”

“You told me the truth, even though it was hard. That’s why I like you too,” you said. “Plus you’re really old so you must have like, sex down to perfection by this point.”

“Gonna blow your fucking mind,” he teased. “Eventually. I know things are different nowadays but…you’re special. You’re not a hookup.”

“When you’re ready, you let me know and we’ll go from there, okay?” He nodded and you gave him a hug, Dean hesitant at first but he quickly relaxed into it. “You alright?”

“Been a long time since I had a hug is all.”

“You need one, just come to me,” you said. You sat back and he smiled. “So. Let’s go do something fun. You look like you could use it.”

“Night,” murmured Dean as he kissed you at your doorstep that evening.

“Night,” you said, not moving away from him just yet. His ears perked up and he forced himself away. “Trouble?”

“Yeah. Nothing major. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Bye Dean,” you said, watching him take off running far faster than any human man could. You smiled as you locked up, a loud thud coming from your kitchen. You unlocked the door and looked around. “Hello?”

“For such a nice house you have an incredibly small kitchen,” said Butcher as he walked out with the bottle of your nicest bourbon.

“Oh come on, that was a housewarming present,” you said.

“I swipe you some more,” he said, taking a long swig. “How’s it going?”

“Good. We got close today but Butcher you seriously can not come back here again. Dean was this close to coming inside tonight.”

“Dean. I thought he was Solider Boy.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You want to wind up like his last broad did? You give him the puppy dog eyes and then we make a move,” he said.

“I’m starting to think we might get further with sugar over spice. Billy he wants to make up for his past. If he gets into The Seven he could be a serious asset.”

“Are you going soft on me?” he asked, an edge in his voice. 

“Let me work him the way I know best. Trust me,” you said.

“Don’t forget what this is for. You call when you’re ready,” he said. “Don’t take too long.”

He left out the back and you sighed, running your hands over your face. Sure, Dean had done some bad things in the past but who hadn’t? He wasn’t playing you, he had no reason to. The part of you that wanted revenge was still there but he didn’t cause your brother to die, not really. He was simply a prime target at the moment.

You swallowed and went to the kitchen, taking the bottle of alcohol to the family room. You sat on the couch and took a swig, letting it burn your throat.

You didn’t want him to get hurt. You liked him. A lot. Maybe you could convince him to go away, be someplace safer. Your head turned when you got a text, the alert saying it was from Dean and him asking you if you wanted to get out of the city and go hiking tomorrow.

Maybe that’d be a good time to tell him the truth. He was bound to find out eventually and if he got mad, at least you’d be the only one in danger. Billy’s voice was at the back of your head but you ignored it. He’d been angry for too long, couldn’t see the good in people anymore. Dean wasn’t what you thought he was at first. He was good deep down.

You’d tell Solider Boy the truth tomorrow and hoped you lived to see the next day.

______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[jooliargh]

Happy, NOW, like THIS

Not wishing put a downer on anyone’s Christmas any more than, y'know, 2020 has put a downer on everything in general, but I'm not the most Christmassy of people. I sometimes joke that I'm a bit "bah, humbug" but that's not quite true: I want everyone to have a great time, I get great pleasure giving someone a gift I know they’ll enjoy unwrapping, I just don't usually quite feel unbridled joy myself. I'm rarely actually unhappy, just sometimes a bit... meh. I don't have a tragic reason why I should be, in my case it's more that there's a limited, prescribed set of ways to be happy, and you have to do it on this one specific day (and then another kind of happy on this other specific day a week later and  by an accident of birth I have ANOTHER day I'm supposed to be happy slap-bang in the middle), and "be happy, NOW, like THIS" feels like a lot of pressure. Like... what if I don’t want to? What if I’d prefer to be just quietly content?

I imagine this is somewhat true even if the family you grew up in were like the OXO family, which most people's probably weren't. My childhood Christmases weren't awful, but they weren't like the ones you see on TV. At risk of launching into a seasonal version of the Four Yorkshiremen sketch, we were poor. Lots of people have it a lot worse - we had a roof over our heads and enough to eat - but for as long as I can remember, I was aware that my parents couldn't afford much, and any gifts I got were at the cost of sacrifices elsewhere.

My teenage Christmases... the less said the better. I got dumped in December three years running. (I volunteered for a few years at a hospital radio station, and one running joke was that any time I came to the studio in December, whoever was on air would cue up Lonely This Christmas by Mudd and leave the mic open so I couldn't loudly tell them to fuck off.) One of those Christmases I still lived at home, another I spent on my own, and one I was the charity case invited to my best friend's in-laws. (Which was actually pretty hilarious, and I am forever grateful. But nobody wants to be the charity case at their best friend's in-laws.)

So where were my family, you may ask? I grew up as an only child. For some reason people think that sounds tragic in itself but honestly it was fine. Or at least, the difficult things about my childhood wouldn't have been any better for having siblings living with me. Dad died when I was 11 (nope, that's not the tragic backstory either - happy to talk about it any time you like, but it would be a huge digression here), so for seven Christmases it was just me and my mum. I left home at 18 and while there was no bad blood between us, we just didn't see much of each other. She took to celebrating the solstice instead anyway. I have extended family on both sides and it's lovely to be in touch with them again the last few years, but we’d see each other a couple of times a year at most, then managed to go thirty-odd years without seeing each other at all, so clearly we're not a family that does family much.

Then just after Christmas, I have a birthday. Perineum birthdays (because that's the only description for the time between Christmas and New Year that ever seems to stick) are great as a kid - everyone comes to your party because everyone's parents leap at the chance to be rid of their spawn for a couple of hours, regardless of whether that spawn is even vaguely friends with the birthday child. For the price of a colouring book and some crayons it's a bargain. In the early 80s parties outside the home were for people with more money than sense, or nice things they didn't want kids to break. We had nothing worth caring about getting ruined so my parents were quite happy to let us run riot, and generally it was great fun.

As an adult, perineum birthdays are fine if you have modest expectations. There's no barb to that, I mean it quite sincerely. Most years I wouldn't throw a party if you paid me. Going to the cinema, having a wander around town and a meal out, seeing a few friends in the extreme case, is more than enough. The last big milestone birthday I decided to have my get-together in March just to save everyone the awkwardness of having to make excuses and myself the effort of making them feel better about having to make excuses. I like my friends; I'm not going to oblige them to celebrate with me when they could really do with a couple of days doing nothing.

And that brings us to New Year's Eve. One side of my family is from Scotland. I had one Hogmanay up there when I was about four years old and I think my general attitude of “could we just not...?” started there. I have the sketchiest recollection which consists of only: a real coal fire (a novelty having grown up in London), Andy Stewart on the telly, whisky, LPs of bagpipe music, and adults crying. To this day I associate bagpipes with crying. Sorry, Scotland. It may have also influenced my ongoing choice not to start drinking.

I have had some fun NYEs - generally the ones where a few of us got together at a friend's house and spent the evening on the sofa, playing games, talking and laughing. The shittest ones by far have been in pubs. Midnight was spent dodging either strangers who wanted to either kiss and hug everyone within range or strangers who wanted to fight everyone within range.

The one where my (then-)boyfriend went out and partied while I stayed at home with tonsillitis so bad I cried every time I swallowed was less awful than some of the NYEs I've spent in pubs.

I'm going to put it out there: any indoor New Year's celebration with over 20 people is shit. If you think I'm wrong, consider going to a massive New Year’s party, sober. I'm absolutely not the kind of person who abstains from alcohol and thinks everyone else should, drunk people can be very entertaining and I’ll happily spend an evening in the pub with a few friends any other time of year (except when there’s a plague on, anyway). But if you can't imagine having fun doing something without at least a few drinks, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the thing itself is probably not fun.

So why do we have this image that staying in on NYE is like the black mark of social failure? And why do I stay at home with my partner, having a perfectly lovely evening, and yet still feel like I should be out doing something more extravagant, even though experience tells me I'd rather have tonsillitis than go to a pub?

Truly, I don't know. But please don't think I'm having a miserable time because I'm a bit quiet, or I'm not wearing a Christmas jumper and belting out Slade for all I'm worth, or not partying on my birthday, or not going to a pub on New Year's Eve. I'm fine. Probably quite content, in fact. The thing most guaranteed to put a serious downer on the festive season for me is being told these are the happiest days of the year, therefore I should be happy, NOW, like THIS.

[picturebookmakers]

Axel Scheffler

In this post, Axel takes us on a journey through his art studio and career. As well as sharing wonderful development work from some of his much-loved picturebooks, he shows us unseen sketchbook pages, early illustration commissions, etchings he made as a student, and his recent work to educate children about the coronavirus.

Visit Axel Scheffler’s website

Axel: I’m not really sure how many books I’ve illustrated in the 30+ years that I’ve been working. Over 150. I mostly work for the UK market, but occasionally I do books with German publishers. Not picturebooks though, so nothing that collides with the co-edition market.

Each of the boxes you see here contains one of my books: the sketches, illustrations, dummies, alternate versions of covers, everything.

I organised these boxes with Liz, my assistant, to have all the main books there so we can find things for exhibitions. There’s still lots of drawings in these boxes which aren’t sorted yet. Liz is such a great help, but it’s very difficult for me to keep on top of everything. I think I would probably need two Lizes, or perhaps three.

So yes, I don’t really know where to begin... I’ve got endless sketchbooks and little drawings on paper. I’ve got some really old sketchbooks I could show you.

Shall we start with The Gruffalo?

My early sketches of the Gruffalo were thought by my editor to be too scary for small children. So I had to make him a bit rounder and more ‘cuddly’. Initially, I‘d also thought that all the animals would be wearing clothes, as they often do in picturebooks. But Julia had different ideas, and to be honest I was relieved. How would I have dressed the snake?

Here’s some spreads from the dummy...

I tried a lot of alternate covers for this book; I think there were twelve in total. There’s some where the Gruffalo doesn’t even feature on the cover.

My latest book with Julia is called ‘The Smeds and The Smoos’. It was quite nice to work on because it’s so different from the other books we’ve done together. The text is a bit like a mixture between Dr Seuss and Lewis Carol; it has this nonsense element. But it’s basically Romeo and Juliet in outer space.

It’s an alien story, so I didn’t have to draw any rabbits or squirrels for a change, and I could invent more. I had more freedom. But like always, I got bored with drawing the same characters over and over again. But that’s picturebooks.

There was quite a lot of development work in the case of this book. But when it’s a story about a fox or a squirrel, I don’t do this kind of stuff. Over the years, it’s become much quicker and easier working on my books. I do far less research than I used to. Now I generally just do a quick pencil sketch then go straight to artwork.

Sometimes I have to start again because things go wrong though. This was a finished piece that was abandoned. I think I suddenly thought that the rocket was far too big or something. I do that; I work on something for ages, and then I suddenly look at it from a distance and realise that something needs redoing.

Did you spot the little Gruffalo in this picture? Since ‘The Snail and the Whale’, I’ve hidden a Gruffalo in each of my books with Julia (not ‘The Ugly Five’ though).

For almost all of the books Julia and I have done together, our editor has been Alison Green. We’re an old established team. And I’ve always worked with the publisher Kate Wilson; I followed her from Macmillan to Scholastic, and then to Nosy Crow. Julia moved from Macmillan to Scholastic, and decided to stay there. So Julia and I have some of our joint titles with Macmillan and some with Scholastic. Julia does books with other illustrators for Macmillan, and I illustrate other books for Nosy Crow.

People often ask me which of the books I’ve done with Julia is my favourite. It’s quite hard to choose, but I enjoyed working on ‘The Smartest Giant in Town’. I liked the way I could do a crazy world with animals, giants, fairytale characters, everything mixed together without anyone caring or questioning it. I’ll show you a few things from the box...

For this book, the cover was changed at the last minute. The original design had the title written on a poster stuck on a brick wall, but the sales people said they wanted a landscape, so I did another one. Years later, they used the original design for a new paperback edition, so it wasn’t completely wasted in the end.

I mentioned my endless sketchbooks earlier. I’ll show you a few of them. This was mainly me playing around without thinking about what I was doing; it wasn’t a conscious thing.

I haven’t looked at these sketchbooks for ages. It was such a long time ago. I don’t work in sketchbooks like this anymore, and I no longer doodle. But for fun, I make illustrated envelopes for friends.

I often think about doing a book with just pictures, but I’m always too busy doing other things. Posthumously, perhaps there will be time to do this. I’d also love to experiment and be more spontaneous; it’s been my dream for decades to do something completely different. But when I receive a book project, I always feel under pressure to finish it, and I’m always late with everything, so I end up doing it the way I’ve always done it.

This is my drawing table, which is and always has been too small and too messy. I think I have to accept it will always be this way.

I use Saunders Waterford paper for my illustrations. It’s funny how we all have our special paper. My rough sketches are often quite small, so I have them blown up to the correct size. Then I trace the sketches on a lightbox onto my watercolour paper. After that, I draw the outlines in black ink with a dip pen. I colour everything with Ecoline inks using brushes, and then coloured pencils on top of it (I use Faber Polychromos and Prismacolour crayons). I might then need to redraw some of the black lines, or use some white gouache for highlights.

I studied History of Art in Hamburg, but left before graduating. I realised this wasn’t what I was good at; I’m not an academic.

Then I had to do my alternative service as conscientious objector. Sixteen months. There was still conscription then; that’s how old I am. I worked with mentally ill people in their homes. It was during this time that I had a friend studying ceramics at Bath Academy of Art in England. I went to visit her. I really didn’t know what else to do, so I thought maybe I could move to Bath and go to the art school. So this is what I did. The course was Visual Communications, so it was design, printmaking, photography, all that stuff. But I realised I only wanted to do illustration.

I’d gone to art college hoping to learn something. I don’t think that necessarily happened, but drawing intensively for three years was, I think, what I had needed to do. I don’t remember actually finishing any projects though.

Here’s some drawings from my student sketchbooks. I did lots of observational drawing back then, which I don’t anymore. I did it then because they told us to. I’m an obedient person!

While I was a student, I did an exchange in New York: Cooper Union Art College for three months. These drawings are of Jewish immigrants, meeting for coffee. It was 1984, so many of them were still alive; refugees from Germany or Austria. I heard them speaking German, so that’s how I knew.

Sketchbooks are such a good way of memorising things. Nobody really knows about these sketchbooks; I used to take them to interviews, but they’ve been hidden away for years.

After I graduated, I moved to London and took my portfolio around. My art teacher had suggested I should do this to get work, so that’s what I did. In those days, you had to ring them and ask to come around. I got two commissions straight away, and it’s been busy ever since, really. I’ve always had something to do.

Here’s some of my early commissions. Starting from 1985, I guess. Very pointy noses...

I did so much of this kind of work. It was a good way of earning money quickly. Occasionally, I still do editorial. I did some Brexit drawings for the remain campaign. Sadly, it didn’t help. Maybe I wrecked everything!

I’ll say a few words about the KIND book... 38 wonderful artists donated a picture to illustrate some of the many ways children can be kind. Such as sharing their toys or helping people from other countries to feel welcome.

One pound from each book sold goes to the Three Peas charity, which supports refugees from war-torn countries. It’s been a big success so far, and Three Peas has received a lot of money from sales in the UK and co-editions.

I’d quite like to do the UNKIND book next! I think illustrators would probably enjoy that, but I don’t imagine it would sell very well.

And now for something completely different! Some etchings I made when I was a student.

People often ask me which illustrators I’m inspired by. I don’t seek any direct influence on my work, but I’ve always said that Tomi Ungerer had the greatest influence on my approach to illustration. Although his style is quite different to mine, this humour and wackiness is something that has always appealed to me. And the details.

William Steig is someone I got into later, when I was already illustrating. And Edward Gorey of course. And Saul Steinberg. I think the Czech artist Jiří Šalamoun is wonderful. And I like Eva Lindström from Sweden a lot. She’s so great.

Okay, to finish with I’ll talk about the coronavirus work I’ve been doing...

I asked myself what I could do as a children’s illustrator to inform, as well as entertain, my readers here and abroad about the coronavirus. So I was glad when Nosy Crow asked me to illustrate a book on the subject. I think it’s extremely important for children and families to have access to reliable information in this unprecedented crisis.

You can download the free digital book in English here, and in over 60 other languages here.

I also wanted to do something light-hearted to cheer people up, and I thought, “What if I imagine some of our characters in corona situations?” Julia liked the idea and wrote rhymes for the new scenes. This was really more about entertainment than serious information.

Artwork and verse © Axel Scheffler and Julia Donaldson 2020. Based on characters from ‘The Gruffalo’s Child’ (2004), ‘Charlie Cook’s Favourite Book’ (2005), ‘The Smartest Giant in Town’ (2002), and ‘The Gruffalo’ (1999) — © Macmillan Children’s Books.

And here’s one more thing: my ‘letter from lockdown’. On The Children’s Bookshow website, you’ll find lockdown letters from lots of other wonderful authors and illustrators.

Illustrations © Axel Scheffler. Post edited by dPICTUS.

Buy this picturebook

The Gruffalo

Julia Donaldson & Axel Scheffler

Macmillan Children’s Books, UK, 1999

‘A mouse took a stroll through the deep dark wood. A fox saw the mouse and the mouse looked good.’

Walk further into the deep dark wood, and discover what happens when a quick-witted mouse comes face to face with an owl, a snake... and a hungry Gruffalo!

‘The Gruffalo’ has become a bestselling phenomenon across the world. This award-winning rhyming story of a mouse and a monster is now a modern classic, and will enchant children for years to come.

PUBLISHED IN THE FOLLOWING LANGUAGES & DIALECTS

Afrikaans

Albanian

Arabic

Australian

Azerbaijani

Basque

Belarusian

Bengali

Breton

Bulgaria

Catalan

Chinese (Simplified)

Chinese (Traditional)

Corsu

Croatian

Czech

Danish

Doric

Dundonian

Dutch

English

Esperanto

Estonian

Faroese

Farsi

Finnish

French

Frisian

Gaelic

Galician

Georgian

German

Glasgow Scots

Greek

Guernésiais

Hebrew

Hindi

Hungarian

Iceland

Indonesian

Irish

Italian

Jèrriais

Kazakh

Kölsch

Korean

Latin

Latvian

Lithuanian

Low German

Lowland Scots

Luxembourgish

Macedonian

Maltese

Manx Gaelic

Maori

Marathi

Mexican Spanish

Mongolian

Norwegian

Orcadian Scots

Polish

Portuguese

Portuguese (Brazil)

Romanian

Russian

Sami

Schwabisch

Serbian

Sesotho

Setswana

Shetland Scots

Slovakian

Slovenian

Spanish

Swedish

Swiss German

Tamil

Thai

Turkish

Ukrainian

US English

Vietnamese

Welsh

Xhosa

Zulu

Buy this picturebook

The Smeds and The Smoos

Julia Donaldson & Axel Scheffler

Alison Green Books, UK, 2019

The Smeds (who are red) never mix with the Smoos (who are blue). So when a young Smed and Smoo fall in love, their families disapprove.

But peace is restored and love conquers all in this happiest of love stories. There’s even a gorgeous purple baby to celebrate!

PUBLISHED IN THE FOLLOWING LANGUAGES

Afrikaans

Catalan

Croatian

Dutch

English

Finnish

French

German

Hebrew

Hungarian

Italian

Korean

Luxenbourghish

Polish

Russian

Slovenian

Spanish

Swedish

Turkish

Ukrainian

Buy this picturebook

Kind

Alison Green, Axel Scheffler & 38 illustrators

Alison Green Books, UK, 2019

Imagine a world where everyone is kind; how can we make that come true? With gorgeous pictures by a host of top illustrators, KIND is a timely, inspiring picturebook about the many ways children can be kind, from sharing their toys and games, to helping those from other countries feel welcome.

One pound from the sale of each printed copy will go to the Three Peas charity, which gives vital help to refugees from war-torn countries.

PUBLISHED IN THE FOLLOWING LANGUAGES

Bulgarian

Catalan

Chinese (Simplified)

Chinese (Traditional)

English

French

German

Greek

Hebrew

Italian

Korean

Netherlands

Portuguese (Brazil)

Romanian

Spanish

Swedish

Turkish

Vietnamese

[mcrmadness]

Quarantine quiz

I got tagged, by @hanhan156, kiitän! Ja minuu saa kyl tägätä näihin ihan niin paljon ku vaan sielu sietää :D Ei minuu kuitenkaan tägää ku mitä, kolme tyyppiä tyyliin? Ja näitä on aina kiva tehä joten antaa tulla vaan, en pahastu! 8)

My answers got a bit longer again so the rest (aka the quiz questions and answers) is under the cut!

Who are you named after? Well, my IRL first name is Aada but I was not named after anyone. I think my mom came up with it and originally it would have had another word to it but then my dad suggested something else for my middle name so they left this one as my name. And I’m kinda happy about that because the longer version would have not been that nice, but I also still don’t really like my name. I feel like it’s too feminine and I don’t identify with it even tho people tell me that they don’t actually see a gender for that name and it’s more of gender neutral in their eyes just because of me. But I also have something similar in my mind but that I still haven’t decided on because I’m not sure if I’d identify with that one either. I just feel like my name starts with an A but I don’t know which name it’s supposed to be. (And I cannot adopt Madness as my real name lol, even tho I sometimes feel like I identify with it more than with my real name, but only people online are using that one.)

Last time you cried? I don’t even remember? I don’t cry that easily tbh and it’s very difficult for me to let any emotions out anyway. Usually a death of a pet makes me cry but I don’t think I’ve ever even cried when people have died... And I also cry if people are mean to me or if I accidentally upset anyone. Movies and sometimes books can also cause me to cry. But when was the last time? I literally don’t remember, I cry-laugh more often than I cry because of being sad! Sometimes also anger can make me feel like crying. Anyway, I’m pretty sure the last proper time was probably when I was arguing with an ex-friend and that’d be somewhere in October, I think. (After that if I have, then it’s been about movies or TV series but can’t remember any details.)

Do you like handwriting? Yes I do! I actually like writing down fanfiction in a notebook even tho I hate the process of writing them to my computer afterwards :D I’m also writing down things very often, I have post-it notes everywhere and I have so many notebooks only for writing down things from video games :D

Favorite meal? Something homemade! Actually I think it’s horse meat with potatoes!!! I also really love how my chicken soup turns out nowadays, and my most recent favorite is homemade lasagna by me. I cooked that for the first time a few weeks ago, making all the sauces myself and all and damn it was good! (I have never had the best relationship with food, I eat only to stay alive so whenever I eat, I need my food to actually taste good too or there’s no point in eating. If I really have to eat, then I deserve to enjoy it, too.)

Longest relationship? I’ve actually never been in a relationship! o/ (No sarcasm. I’m aroace and I hate people :D Well the last part of this sentence was sarcasm. Or was it..?)

Do you have tonsils? Yeah.

Would you bungee jump? Never. My HSP ass can’t even handle normal everyday emotions some days so that’d probably feel like brains exploding and I’ve never recover so no thanks.

What’s your favorite breakfast? Usually it’s bread, either rye bread or oat bread, with butter. Sometimes might even use (cheese), cucumber and herbal salt. And then I always drink milk to go with it and afterwards I’ll get tea. If I’m fed up with bread and not feeling like eating it, then I might change for oatmeal (with butter, honey and milk) for a while. Until I get fed up with it too.

Do you untie your shoe laces when you take your shoes off? Never. I actually always get shoes WITH shoe laces but I always leave them so that I don’t need to tie nor untie them but I can still put the shoes on and take them off without doing anything with the shoe laces. I guess I only have one pair of shoes that are slightly taller at the ankles and that’s why they’ve got both: shoelaces AND zippers.

What’s the first thing you notice about a person? Their looks and style, I like black hair and clothing a lot :D And the next thing obviously is what kind of vibes I get. I usually see from people right away if I could get along with them or not and some people just look like awesome friend-material and I just would do almost anything to be their friend! Of course it can sometimes be wrong but idk, I am too shy and socially awkward (and Finnish) to go to talk to anyone I don’t know :D

Football/softball? Neither, I know nothing about sports. Only sports I know something about is horse sports and with that I also have very strict opinions about things. E.g. I boycott flat racing (gallop) but I have been studying and working with trotters for almost 10 years and those two worlds are just like complete opposites, especially in Finland where we only have trotters. And from the riding sports I find dressage really boring and not-so-nice for the horses, and showjumping is only interesting when the horses start acting out and I’m not exactly sure what to think of it. And then there’s also numerous other kinds of horse sports from western barrel racing to some sometimes even really cruel forms like gaited horses in the US. I’m not gonna say more than this, but there’s some things I find really cruel and some things that are okay, and then lots of things I don’t know enough about to give any proper opinion over.

What color pants are you wearing? Black jeans.

Last thing you ate? Finnish salmiac/salty liquorice candy called Turkinpippuri aka Tyrkisk Peber aka “Turkish pepper” in English, even tho it’s not a pepper, it just has salmiac powder in it and it’s my absolute favorite type of a salmiac!!! :D And I love salmiac.

What are you listening to? Nothing. Except the sound the fans in my computer make. (I imagine little people being trapped in the computer now. But unfortunately I don’t have any fans.)

If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Probably some very light grey, almost invisible colour. Maybe something that is used to fade out other colors, if there’s any. If not, then I’d be that anyway (because I really don’t belong to anywhere, not even to a set of crayons if I was a crayon).

With this one I want to tag @stufenlosregelbar :)

[written-by-weird]

Get to Know Me!

RuLes: Complete the survey and say who tagged you in the beginning. When you’re finished, tag people to do this survey. Have fun and enjoy!

Tagged by @birdiethought

1.) Are you named after someone? Uhh... Not that I know of. Had I been born a male, then yea, but no. I believe I am the first one to have my name in my family... Huh- that’s weird.

2.) When was the last time you cried? I’d have to say- a few weeks ago. I was having a depression moment, and things weren’t feeling too hot. Getting better soon!

3.) Do you like your handwriting? Ha! My handwriting is never the same. I like how it looks when I am writing quickly, because it looks a little script like, and is very tiny and compact. However, when my hand gets tired, or if I am writing slow, none of the letters look like their counterparts. Blegh. Granted, I have Architect’s writing, so...

4.) What is your favorite lunch meat? To be honest, I don’t eat that many sandwiches... Mostly because I am so picky, that it’s too labor-some to think about them. But I like Ham.

5.) If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Good question! I’m pretty introverted, and don’t really make myself known unless I have to.. So- unless you were in my similar interest, or some place I frequent then I probably wouldn’t seek me out, and therefore, by reasons of me being absent, we wouldn’t be friends.

6.) Do you use sarcasm? Hell yeah. Also, my sarcasm is so good sometimes, you can’t tell I’m using it, which I think is a good tool.

7.) Do you still have your tonsils. Yup! I actually have never had surgery or any operation done ever, so... Knock on wood now!

8.) Would you bungee jump? Hell NO! I hate heights, it makes my legs shaky, and I can’t do it. No. Nope. Nada. Never. Bye bye.

9.) What is your favorite kind of cereal? To be honest, I’m not really a breakfast person... But, I do prefer the more sugary ones. I won’t eat a lot, but I think fruity pebbles might be my favorite.

10.) Do you untie your shoelaces when you take shoes off? 95% of the time, no. I wear my clothes tight because it soothes the anxiety of me losing them, but most of the time, I just slide them off when I’m done wearing them, then go through the ritual of untying them, putting them on, and tying them again. It’s my thing, and it works.

11.) Do you think you’re a strong person? I dunno. I think it depends on what kind of strong you mean? Physically? My arms are noodles, my legs are trees... My mind is pretty strong Intelligence wise... Uhm- I think that I do have some problems that make some things difficult, but I wouldn’t say I’m a ‘weak’ person.

12.) What is your favorite ice-cream? I’ll always have a soft spot for vanilla anything - homestyle is my fav. I try to avoid chocolate and mint. Blegh.

13.) What is the first thing you notice about people? I think I usually notice the way people walk, carry themselves in public, and how they interact with others. I’m really good at reading people (Sometimes), and I can sit and watch people out in public, and know how a person is most likely to act. This helped a lot when I was a server- I would know if someone was a Karen without having to speak with them.

14.) What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? Uhm- this question is a little confusing, but... I’ll try? I’m going to say my joints- I have really bad hips, knees, ankles, everything, so it makes walking and standing for too long really difficult - I don’t know if I like that about myself, but I can at least joke about it and say I’m an old person in a young person’s body? Like, I’m 20, but feel like I’m 87.

15.) What color pants and shoes are you wearing right now? Well, It’s midnight here, so I’m in bed. I’m wearing black and white athletic shorts, and no shoes... I’ve still got socks on though, cause I’m super lazy, and won’t take them off lmao.

16.) If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Prussian Blue.

17.) Favorite smell? Uhhhhhhhhh - I really like fall. I love fall. Best season. I like the decaying smells of nature around me (Not rotting animal flesh, no) But like, the leaves and stuff- it’s a very comforting smell to me.

18.) Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? I’m going to assume this means through a phone call, and not text, so... MY DAD.

19.) Favorite sport to watch? To be honest, I’m not a huge sports person - When the season is on, and my team is on, I’ll watch football (American), but I really enjoy equestrian sports!

20.) Hair color? Uh... If it’s wet- dark dark brown, but usually an average brown. Like... Laundry lint brown. I dunno, look at my profile photo.

21.) Eye color? Blue - I dunno if it’s a pretty blue, but My pupil has this light brown ring around it, and a darker blue ring around the iris, so I guess it might look a little interesting...

22.) Do you wear contacts? Since I am blind as a bat, yes. I used to primarily wear glasses, but then contacts worked out better for me. I need to take better care of my eyes, and stop sleeping in my contacts. You don’t want to know how long these current ones have been in my eyes. 

23.) Favorite food to eat? I love food, I think anything with carbs is okay for me! I love pasta, and fries... Fries are good.

24.) Scary movies or comedy? Uhm... I dunno. I think an equal mix of both? If the story line is good for the horror movie, then yea, but for comedy, I prefer John Mulaney.

25.) Last movie you watched? Hahahahah. Hahaha. Ha. Soo... When I go to sleep, I need something to play in the background, because I can’t sleep with complete silence, or complete darkness, so I need to listen to something. I’ve been playing the movie CARS every night because it’s familiar, and soothing.

26.) What color shirt are you wearing? Heather gray? I dunno.

27.) Summer or Winter? Uhm. Fall.  JK- I prefer the warmth of summer, but I hate the bugs, so Winter because no bugs... But cold is bad... Mmmn... Fall.

28.) Hugs or Kisses? I dunno. Haven’t had a whole lot of experience in either to truly form an opinion. I guess I’d have to choose hugs because I’ve never kissed anyone, so...

29.) What book are you currently reading? I’ve actually fallen out of reading books... I’ve mostly read fanfiction for a long while, but! At my summer job! One of my coworkers is also a huge nerd, and he suggested I read the book ‘Fingerprints of the Gods’ and it’s actually really good!

30.) Who do you miss right now? I really miss the chickens we lost recently. A raccoon got into the coop a few nights ago, and decimated a little over half our flock. :(

31.) What is on your mousepad? Uhm- it’s like a... Rainbowy marble like thing. But that’s on my school computer for ARCHI stuff. I usually use my laptop, which is the trackpad.

32.) What is the last TV program you watched? Below deck - for those who don’t know, it’s a reality TV show about super yachting. There’s so much drama, it gives me anxiety. I really shouldn’t watch it.

33.) Rolling stones, or the Beatles? MMn Neither?

34.) What is the furthest you’ve ever traveled? For the longest time, it was to travel down to Puerto Rico for a week (I was maybe 12?) But in freshman year of High school, we took a band trip to Hawaii! (So Hawaii is the correct answer).

35.) Do you have a special talent? I dunno- don’t really think so... I mean, if this counts I’d be surprised, but I’m really good at quoting things? Like, some movies, I can say the whole script as it is happening? Or like- vines, I’m really good at vines...

36.) Where were you born? *Sobs* Missouri, USA

I tag anybody who would like to partake in this! I really don’t have any ‘mutuals’ (That I am aware of- please correct me if I’m wrong), so anybody please do this!

[kenkamishiro]

Ishida’s Q&A comments from YJ compilation, Part 9

Ishida’s comments from 2017! Only one more part left to go which will cover the 30-something questions from 2018.

For anyone who doesn’t know about the relevant Questions to Ishida contest, please read here. You can start from Part 1 here.

The recent set of zakki:re and interview translations take a lot of time and effort, so if you enjoyed it please reblog or leave a like. Thank you!

2017

No. 1

Sensei, if you had to pick a character from a manga/anime/novel to become the president, who would it be?

Mozgus-sama.

Just stop.

[T/N: One of the antagonists of Berserk...]

No. 2

The winners of the New Word/Buzzword awards have been announced for 2016, but in your opinion what new word or buzzword should have won for this year?

「～てわけだし」。

I wonder why.

[T/N: The phrase 「～てわけだし」is difficult to translate on its own since it’s more of an implied feeling, but basically it’s used when you’re stating a conclusion based on reasons that were given in the conversation.]

No. 3-4

It’s that time of year when hot pot is at its most deliciousness! What is your favourite kind of hot pot or hot pot ingredient?

Motsunabe.

Wasn’t there a question just like this before?

[T/N: Yes, yes it was. (In 2013, Issue no. 49.)]

No. 5-6

2016 was also a year where all kinds of events shook the world. Now then Sensei, please tell us about your biggest event of this year!

That I got the opportunity to meet Togashi Yoshihiro-sensei.

It was amazing...

No. 7

The first issue of Young Jump for 2017!! Sensei, what words do you want to write for your wishes for the New Year?

To be on time.

Do your best.

No. 8

Sensei, please tell us what you want to challenge yourself to do this year!

To become an apprentice.

That’s a good one.

No. 9

January 26 is Mobile Apps Day! Please share with us your favourite app or an app that you feel has been useful recently!

Voice recorder.

Apps with shogi problems. It’s perfect for when I have free time.

No. 10

February 2 is Pigtails Day! Please share with us a hairstyle of the opposite sex that makes you feel things!

Short cuts.

Indeed.

No. 11

February 9 is Manga Day! What was the first manga that you read or bought?

I forget what my first one was, but my most recent was volume 45 of Kingdom.

It was probably something like Crayon Shin-chan I think? Most likely...

No. 12

Sensei, please tell us about a sports match that has moved or excited you to this day?

Rocky vs. Mason Dixon.

I haven’t really seen much, huh.

No. 13

Sensei, what item makes you feel “I haven’t seen this lately/it’s gone now, what a shame?”

That crunchy salad thing from Family Mart, the Mexican something-or-other.

I’ll say it again.

No. 14

This may seem out of the blue, but please tell us about a memory that’s related to your birthday!

Thank you for last year.

I received a lot.

No. 15

Sensei, please share with us what you usually eat or do for your health!

Nuts.

I’ve been running recently. Last month I clocked in 100 km.

No. 16

Sensei, please share with us a time where you felt full of energy or gained courage to this day!

I was so scared of Biohazard in VR that I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body.

I haven’t been playing any VR games recently.

No. 17

Sensei, please tell us about a local rule that surprised you, or any unusual rule that was considered as normal in your local area!

Libatape.

It’s a bandage.

No. 18

Sensei, please share with us what you’re secretly obsessed about!

88Kasyo Junrei and Ziyoou-vachi.

Ohh.

No. 19

Sensei, please tell us what you’d like to eat right now!

Corned beef.

I wonder if I was craving junk food at the time.

No. 20

Sensei, please tell us about a moment where you felt like spring was coming!

I don’t really feel it. Though it does feel like summer.

What’s with that force.

No. 21

If you could send a letter to a person again, who would that person be and what would you like to tell them?

A friend from a long time ago, since I moved around a lot.

I’d tell the friend that I’ve become a mangaka.

No. 22-23

We’re at the cusp of Golden Week! Sensei, please share with us where you’d like to go, or something you’d like to do!

Read.

Just get out of the house already.

No. 24

Sensei, please share with us a technique you thought was amazing or moved you!

I saw it recently, but Terada Katsuya’s live paintings.

Man it was amazing.

No. 25

If you could choose any one special ability or superpower, what ability would you want to use?

The ability to fix my back.

The ability to be motivated at any time.

No. 26

Sensei, what book do you want to read the most/want to know the contents of right now?

I want to read all kinds of books.

I’m currently interested in Russia/Soviet relations.

No. 27

Sensei, please tell us about the scariest story you’ve heard or experienced in your life!

Missiles.

When I was drawing the manuscript for the final chapter that everyone associated with it was waiting for. My heart was pounding like crazy.

No. 28

Sensei, please tell us about something you’re particular about in your home/room, or something you’d like to be particular about if you moved!

Delivery boxes.

Where there are delivery boxes, no bugs crawl out...

No. 29

Sensei, please tell us about a movie or drama that you thought was interesting/would be interesting!

“Documental” was interesting.

“One Cut of the Dead” was interesting too.

No. 30

If you could know just one thing from the future, what would it be?

I wouldn’t want to know anything.

Whether manga still exists or not.

No. 31

Sensei, please tell us what your favourite appetizer is!

Nuts.

Raisin butter.

No. 32

Sensei, please share with us a day that only you celebrate, or a day that is special only to you!

Since the day my series first began is in September, I consider that to be a day for celebration.

I’m sure I’ll forget it.

No. 33

When you think of summer, you think of festivals! What comes to mind when you hear the world “festival”?

Live performances.

Fireworks, food stalls.

No. 34

How would you describe your personality in a single word?

Uncoordinated (To everyone involved, I apologize for causing trouble last week).

What happened...

No. 35

Sensei, please share with us a dinner meal that gets you excited the most!

I don’t get excited over meals.

I do now!

No. 36-37

Sensei, please tell us what you’re glad to have done as a child!

Play Dragon Quest.

Study. Not for the contents necessarily, but more so cultivating my ability to concentrate. Well, that and Dragon Quest too.

No. 38

Sensei, please share with us the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning!

Sleep.

Huh?

No. 39

Please share with us something about Japanese traditional culture or events that you like!

Sweet mochi cakes.

I think it’s wonderful that we have events for each season. Though I don’t take part in them.

No. 40

August 31 is Vegetable Day! Sensei, please share with us what vegetables you like!

Orange paprika.

Celery, paprika, tomatoes.

No. 41

If there was a moment in your life where you thought, “I’m saved!”, please tell us!

I did have one.

I’ve only ever been helped.

No. 42

It’s September but the blazing hot days aren’t over just yet! Sensei, please share with us your steps to combat the summer heat!

Pray.

You didn’t even do anything for the heat did you.

No. 43

Sensei, please share with us something that you thought you wanted to throw away, or wanted to throw away but couldn’t!

My chair.

Stuff like packages or stuffed toys that the staff left behind.

No. 44

Sensei, please tell us about a moment in your everyday life where you get a bit excited/feel a bit of small joy!

When I manage to wake up early.

I know the feel.

No. 45

Please tell us who you thought was the most beautiful woman you’ve seen in your life (can be a real person, or a character from a manga/drama/novel)!

Andrea Pezick.

It’s hard to say who the most beautiful is.

No. 46

October 13 is Moving Day! If you were to move, what town would you want to live in (can be real or fictional)?

Kansai.

Kanto or America or Taiwan.

No. 47

Sensei, please tell us about a moment in your life where you noticed a discrepancy and realized it was different from what you expected!

Turkish rice.

Robot Restaurant.

[T/N: Ishida went to Robot Restaurant last fall with some friends.]

No. 48

Sensei, if there’s a character that you want to make a guest appearance in your own work, please tell us (even real people are acceptable!)

Me.

Don’t need me there.

No. 49

Sensei, please share with us what you do when you can’t fall asleep at night!

I fall asleep right away, so please tell me what to do instead.

Please rest assured that my sleep schedule returned to normal after TG ended.

No. 50

Sensei, if you’ve had a moment where you wanted to keep experiencing the same thing in your memories, please tell us!

I want to erase my memories and play Bloodborne again.

I don’t want to repeat it again.

No. 51

It’s harvesting season! Sensei, please share with us what you thought the best harvest of the year was, or something that was significant to you for this year!

Live performances.

Recently I’ve been doing stuff like practicing drawing and studying. I’m not sure if you’d call it harvesting or planting seeds though.

No. 52

It seems November 22 is Carpenter Day. Sensei, if you have a memory of the house you’ve lived in to this day, please tell us!

Centipedes showed up a lot in my dormitory.

Whenever they got inside the soap box they would cluster together.

No. 53

This is the final issue of 2017! Sensei, please share with us what you want to eat as your last dinner of 2017!

I’d be fine with soba.

That way of speaking is an affront to soba.

previous || next (coming soon!)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

multiples of 4

sweet thank you..

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

probably like “pleasure to have in class” and that kind of thing....like, i pretty much just read and kept to myself

8. movies or tv shows?

usually movies ig..

12. name of your favorite playlist?

i don’t really make/use playlists lol it’s absolute chaos

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

god i wish i knew. sometimes it’s criss-cross applesauce and sometimes i’m like i Must stretch my legs

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

definitely anything with a keyboard......but writing By Hand is like, worst case scenario. i’ll take a phone or typewriter or semaphore over that

24. favorite crystal?

uhh shit idk.....some quartz is fine, that comes in like, geode-y form and sparkly form and stuff like that, right

28. five songs to describe you?

lmfao i am neverrrrr going to get this answered if i actually tried so i’m not even gonna make that attempt

32. top five favorite vines?

omg that’s difficult i have like. so many faves but i’ll go with the first ones that come to mind

that only valid “baby it’s cold outside” with the filter and BABY IT’S CO -

speaking of The Filter that “how do you know what’s good for me” one

aw fuck i can’t believe you’ve done this

that dialogue-less one with the kid scribbling hard with a handful of crayons and pausing to give this like, absolutely nefarious look before continuing

AAA stoppp i couldve dropped my croissant

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

lmao i have no idea but i first started being consistently online in 2008. that inception meme was big, and prancing cera was a thing. Advice Memes and earnest rage comics were also pretty prevalent. what a time

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

well during college one time my roommate who had been making the instant “add water, microwave, stir in packet” macaronis for literally 3 or 4 yrs at that point started microwaving one without having added water and it set off the fire alarm in the middle of like january and everyone in the dorm had to go outside. generously calling that weird

44. favorite scent for soap?

i like citrus smells

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

i haven’t thought much about what personified traits i read into fruits but if i had to be a fruit of course i’d want to be a mango....

52. favorite font?

i used to default to goudy old style or whatever it’s called. or baskerville old face. nowadays who knows

56. favorite tradition?

i rly have no answer for this lol

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

i’ve literally seen Two anime series, i’m not equipped to answer

64. favorite website from your childhood?

idk i wasn’t Often Online till 14 and would mainly use the pc for Gamin prior to that...there was no standout childhood-defining site for me and that’s why i don’t know much of any basic coding

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

alcohol is taste bad

72. worst subject?

taking public speaking where it’s 25 other people who hate to be there

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

fries....latkes.....mash potato if its Soft......nowadays i just pitch one in a microwave and add seasoning / butter if i’m fancy

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

i’m not really big on Deep colors like that, jewel tones i guess

84. podcasts or talk radio?

podcasts

88. your greatest wish?

i just say some depressing shit here lmao

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

lamps

96. desktop background?

hmm i haven’t changed it in forever but it’s a city skyline at the bottom and the rest is the sky and it’s a lot of purples

[softshelltaakos]

alright, folks! if you know me you know that i 1) received the taz graphic novel for the holidays and 2) have hated the taz graphic novel since before it came out, and that 3) actually reading it in no way improved my opinion.

let’s review.

disclaimer: i love the mcelroys. i truly do. taz has gotten me through some very difficult stuff and i have a tattoo. all this to say i’m not doing this because i hate them or because i like hating things — on the contrary, i’m doing this because i care a lot about the podcast and analyzing things is what i do for fun and also because, like, it has issues that i want to talk about!

there are spoilers for the graphic novel and the whole of the podcast under the cut.

this is part 1, in which i’m talking about the actual storytelling and writing; for character design thoughts, you’re gonna have to stay tuned because i’ve been working on this for three and a half hours and i have shit to do. so!

let’s start off with the things i actually liked. there are a few!

the main characters get little intro cards, which i think are pretty cute. this isn’t all of them, but here’s a sampling (forgive my messy collaging):

[ID: four panels.

the first introduces magnus burnsides, a barrel-chested white guy with auburn hair and a fluffy beard and sideburns. he’s saying “trust me, if the law hassles us, i’m the guy you want at the front of the wagon. but look, if you want to drive so bad, i might let you spell me the next time the dwarf has to stop for a pee break.” there is a scroll with his name listed, as well as his race (human), class (fighter), and proficiencies: battle, carpentry, and “everything else... apparently”

the second introduces taako, a skinny mint-colored elf wizard. he’s blonde with pronounced lower lashes and a big pointy nose. he’s saying “hell, no! i’ve got stuff to do. i’ve read the books. adventurers are supposed to, like, forage for food and shit. bor-r-r-ring! no, thank you. not for taako.” the proficiencies on his title card are spell-casting, transmutation, and gastronomy

the third introduces merle highchurch, a brown dwarf with white hair pulled back into a bun and a big poofy beard. he’s saying “i’m studying my cantrips!” and his title card proficiencies are “healing... supposedly,” “religion stuff,” and bleeding

the fourth panel introduces griffin mcelroy, a white human man with brown hair and glasses wearing a collared shirt. he’s saying “guys! it’s me: griffin! your dm!” his title card shows his race as “actual human” and his class as “dungeon master,” while his proficiencies are podcasting, karaoke, and “weaving a rich tapestry of drama.”]

then there are a few cute references to other mcelroy stuff:

[ID: two side-by-side images. the first is a photo of justin mcelroy wearing a bib with “shrimpin’ ain’t easy” written on it in crayon. the second is a close-up of a similar bib on a goblin -- though the text is distorted, it’s the same phrase.]

[ID: magnus thoughtfully says “unless...” and the other boys echo him in traditional mcelroy fashion.]

barry also wears underwear that read “meloincloths” around the waistband, which i didn’t take a picture of because it was small and also i didn’t really want to take a picture of barry bluejeans’s underoos. but that’s cute!

as it mentions in magnus’s titlecard, there’s a running joke about him being proficient in everything. that gets some play in the podcast but it comes up a lot more here and i think it works pretty well and establishes early on that magnus is cocky and headstrong and all that. it’s actually introduced in the very first panel of the comic, where he mentions his vehicle proficiency, and then it comes up several more times.

there are some moments that shift out-of-character dialogue to in-character dialogue, and i think it works sometimes. notably, it occasionally happens with griffin’s dialogue, which i think is a good way to include his voice without constantly breaking the fourth wall. it’s done some, obviously, but it’s not to the point that it’s intrusive.

[ID: a panel featuring taako approaching the other boys, who are playing cards while they wait for him to scout the next room out. magnus asks, “would you say it is spooky... or beautiful?” and merle cuts in “or spookily beautiful?” followed by magnus finishing up with “or beautifully spooky?”

taako responds “if you were a gerblin you would actually find it a pretty chill den to, like, hang out in.”]

i also like the introduction of the voidfish static. i think it’s appropriately dramatic and does a pretty good job of emulating how it’s presented in the podcast.

[ID: a panel featuring killian, an orc woman with a crossbow. the lighting is dark gray-blue-green and she’s shouting something unintelligible marked by a cluster of consonants and a shaky, brush-strokey speech bubble distinct from the other speech bubbles stylistically.]

the scene where taako grabs the umbra staff is also appropriately dramatic, as is merle trying to talk down gundren/bogard from the gauntlet’s thrall, but those are full page images and very large, so i’m not including them.

then there’s this panel of lucretia, which slays me:

[ID: a closeup of madame director lucretia, a black woman dressed in blue with white hair, though her eyes are out of frame. she’s holding a white oak staff in her hands. she’s stopped mid-sentence and there’s a little jaggedy line near her head indicating surprise.]

this is lucretia turning around and seeing the boys for the first time since she dropped them off at their respective “homes.” she’s caught off-guard and i think this is a beautiful way of noting that without giving too much away, and this is a good moment of foreshadowing that she knows much, much more about them than she’s letting on. she catches herself quickly and gets back into the swing of things, but i think this is a very lucretia panel, and it’s probably my favorite panel in the book.

now it’s time for the negative.

first off, a nitpick: there are moments where the characterization feels very off -- at one point magnus is said to have been the kid who “always reminded the teacher that they had forgotten to hand out homework,” which... does not really match what we know of young magnus. at all. travis describes him as “a good but kind of rebellious kid, like he was probably kind of a little bit of a turd [...] who was kinda sarcastic” (ep. 60, the stolen century part one) which feels super incongruent with the homework thing.

my issues with characterization come into focus most strongly with taako. while a lot of moments get his voice down pretty well, there’s a major issue in his presentation, which is that from the very beginning, he’s bragging about his tv show.

[ID: several panels in which merle and taako are talking. the first is a wide shot with taako’s voiceover saying: “--and then the lights come up, and there i am, standing under a magnificent banner that reads:”

the second is taako posing under a spotlight, speaking in large, fanciful script: “sizzle it up with taako”

panel three is merle asking disinterestedly “so it’s a show... about cooking?” and taako replying emphatically “it’s about life!”

in panel four he adds “...told through the perspective of fine dining.”

another panel collaged in features a cookbook with taako’s face on it labeled “perfection: cook the taako way” and taako excitedly saying “i know that smell!! that’s my recipe for haunch a la taako!! it was in my very first cookbook!]

now, we all know that by the end of the show “taako -- you know, from tv?” has become a catchphrase of his, and i understand the desire to retcon that kind of thing into his personality from the start. it seems like a natural way to add character early on when in the podcast, the boys are still pretty underdeveloped at this point.

here’s the issue. neither tv nor the title “sizzle it up” are mentioned at any point during here there be gerblins. in the eleventh hour (e48, part 8 of that arc) we’re told that we’re six years out from the mass poisoning in glamour springs. while the maxfun donor bonus episodes, like the liveshows, play it a little bit fast and loose with canon, and this episode was the 2015 bonus episode (e48 didn’t come out until september 2016,) that’s the only real explicit sizzle it up development we have until the eleventh hour. i’ve transcribed some of the bonus episode below, as transcripts for it are not available via @.tazscripts.

justin: taako-- i’m sitting in a corner by myself with my hat sorta pulled down low so people don’t recognize me. and i’m just trying to eat my meal but i keep changing the items that i’m trying to eat into different substances, so every few minutes you hear from my corner of the tavern:

taako: damn it!

clint: i hate asparagus!

griffin: i turned this sandwich into wood!

[...]

justin: mainly, i’m just trying to be nondescript. 

[...]

justin: the whole time i’m talking to [the tavern owner] i’m like, keeping my face down so he doesn’t recognize me.

griffin: why would anyone recognize you?

clint: why?

justin: well, taako, uh, used to host a cooking show. it was a very, very, very popular cooking show. uh, and--

griffin: what was it called?

justin: what?

griffin: the show.

justin: sizzle it up with taako.

this episode is when the boys take the job with gundren off of craig’s list, so the time gap between this and episode 1 is negligible at best. there is a moment where the other boys recognize taako and he doesn’t lie about his identity, but:

taako: (begrudgingly) yeah, i’m taako, i’m disgraced, you might have heard about the [poisoning] thing.

so... he’s clearly not putting himself on display the way he does later in the podcast. in episode 40 (lunar interlude III: rest and relaxation) which came out in may of 2016, we get the first reference to the poisoning itself:

taako: one time i transmogrified something that, uh… i transmogrified it into something you really shouldn’t eat, ever? for life, to live, i mean? And, uh, a lot of people ate that. and that went... so sideways. um... i-- i just decided i would never again cook for people i cared about, because i couldn’t risk, um, y’know, something happening to them. until i get this under control, i guess.

so we know that even at that point this is still something that troubles taako greatly. one might even say... he’s traumatized! and doesn’t talk about it! he does not go into detail about sizzle it up with anyone over the entire course of the podcast except for june while she is literally possessed by the chalice and forcing him to relive it. So. kind of a weird character take.

to skip ahead a little bit, most of the moonbase stuff is fine, but there’s one omission that feels very weird to me.

[ID: three panels. the left is a shot of the elevator hallway leading to the voidfish’s chambers. thb follow killian towards the elevators; johann is walking away from them. he’s a black human man with natural hair dressed in a silly bard outfit with a violin strapped to his back. he’s carrying a ton of scrolls.]

these three panels are the only time we see johann in the book. in the podcast it’s johann that escorts them to the voidfish’s chambers and inoculates them. it makes sense that this has been changed to lucretia in the gn; it gives her a much stronger entrance and cuts down on scene changes. but it also cuts out a lot of establishing things about johann that are all extremely important and set up not only his character arc but several core plot points.

it’s during that scene that we hear that johann’s greatest fear is being forgotten, and that that’s exactly what will happen to him and all of the other bureau employees when they die. it’s during that scene that we learn the basic mechanics of the voidfish and the mission of the bureau. it makes sense that some of that is going to be handled at the beginning of the next book (presumably) and i’m glad that lucretia is introduced here, but the gn adjusts it so that killian takes the boys into the elevator. that’s johann in the podcast, and it easily could have been johann here. it would’ve been a good chance to establish at least johann’s fears, which would be a weird and creepy setup for the voidfish mechanics when they do get revealed.

it’s just odd to me that johann, who is the reason for the song half of story and song, gets the short shrift here.

i’m gonna wrap up with one last thing. i wanna talk about arms outstretched.

griffin: and you’re both getting pulled into the rift now, and-- but with a 20, taako, you fight against the pull and both of you are flying backwards towards the center of the room, back towards the catwalk. and merle, you’re standing in front of the two liches, one in the form of magnus and one not. lydia just is there in her spectral form. and you’re standing next to a taako who’s gone completely catatonic.

[...]

griffin: okay, then, m—magnus and taako, you two are flying back towards the center of the room. the pull of this rift is still trying to suck you in. and out of nowhere, just merle turns around—turns his back to the two liches—and just outstretches his arms and as he does, you see, like, spectral versions of his soul-wood arm sort of reach out and grab you and he’s also pulling you back in too, now. and he rips both of you towards himself.

i don’t think it’s a stretch to say that this is one of the most emotionally charged moments in the show, and it’s that because it’s a moment where we see, crystal-clear, real character development and growth.

magnus, who rushes in, who has never wanted anything as much as he wants to be reunited with julia, actively resists the pull of death to help his friends.

taako, who’s good out here, who is so selfish that an entire town died because of his ego, risks his life to help his friends.

merle, who can barely feel his holy connection, who barely ever even heals, breaks planar bounds to help his friends.

we’ve been with these characters for 56 episodes. we’ve seen their worst regrets, we know their tragic backstories, we understand why they’ve been the jackasses they’ve been, and now we see them moving past that to work as a unit. one might even say as a family!

arms outstretched is a moment that has been earned over the course of those 56 episodes.

enter the graphic novel.

[ID: a full page. flames are everywhere and panels are intentionally chaotic. dialogue reads:

merle: maybe now would be good?

magnus: i’m a hero, not an idiot.

taako: actually, you’re both idiots!

he outstretches his arm from his position safe in a well.

taako: come on!

merle and magnus reach for taako’s hands. there is a closeup on their arms: merle and magnus each hold one of taako’s with one hand. then there’s a panel showing an explosion.]

this is obviously intended as a way to foreshadow arms outstretched. and typically i’m not against foreshadowing! i think one of the benefits of the graphic novel is that it’s an opportunity to insert foreshadowing in cool ways that were not necessarily possible given the in-progress nature of the podcast -- like i said earlier, that lucretia panel is a really great example of it. you can’t foreshadow arms outstretched in episode one because you have no idea it’s going to happen.

but here’s the thing. you also can’t foreshadow arms outstretched in episode one because it hasn’t been earned. these characters are not those characters yet. they don’t know each other. taako actively shuts down the title of “friend” earlier in the book. they’re not even coworkers yet. and you could make an argument that in the face of death, taako would try to save them, but... would he? really? he’s a pragmatist, and that’s putting it nicely. during the stolen century the only person he tries to get to safety at the risk of his own neck is lup, and, uh... neither of these guys are lup. hell, he doesn’t even know about lup right now, and we see in the podcast that not remembering her leaves him colder and more self-centered. he knows people are dust, but he doesn’t know there are people that aren’t. i truly don’t buy it.

the nature of adaptation is that things are going to change, and that’s fine; but this is such a major shift that it left me really jarred and unhappy with the writing. in the podcast itself, we get this:

killian: c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon!

clint: decision made.

justin: yeah, i follow her.

travis: i follow her.

clint: me too.

griffin: the three of you dive into the well.

it makes sense that the gn adjusts this slightly so that magnus and merle try to pull some heroics and save everyone; i don’t have a problem with that. that’s a good adaptation of character that hadn’t exactly been seen yet, but comes to be a core enough part of the characters that it makes sense to insert it earlier. but even then, they could’ve gotten to the well without taako’s help. it’s just such a weird rewrite, and i really think it weakens the impact of arms outstretched itself.

i’ve been meaning to get my thoughts on this out for nearly a month at this point so if you’ve stuck with me this whole time, wow! thanks! i appreciate it! i’m not a professional, and obviously the mcelroys signed off on this, so i don’t really have space to say “oh, taako would never do this” or “oh, magnus was never like that” on a canonical level -- i know travis says something along those lines in one of the ttazzes. but as i said at the very beginning: this story means so, so much to me, and it’s really deeply frustrating to see an adaptation that handles things so... weirdly.

[obsidiancorner]

I have a question!!! How long have you been drawing and how long have you been doing digital art? Was it difficult to start with? I'm looking at learning to draw, but I'm not sure if I want to start traditional or if I want to get a tablet. TELL ME!!!

Hey there! Sorry this took me a full day to get to. I wanted to make sure I had time to properly search/attach links and whatnot. Then I had to contend with bath and bedtime for Kiddo. I literally started this post at 7pm... It’s now almost 11. 

I have been drawing in traditional mediums since I was a LITTLE kid. Really little. Before I was in Kindergarten. I broke away from it after I graduated high school but came back to it after I moved to Florida. Chibi Cullen was my first digital piece, though. So... technically since October of 2017. I got my tablet at Christmas 2017 and that is when I REALLY got into it.  

To answer what you should learn on: That’s largely a personal decision and not one I can really help you with outside of giving you some info and some links to help get you started. 

Bare bones basic info:

Traditional is cheaper but you can play and learn without restraint on digital. It’s just that the tablet is going to be a MUCH bigger deposit. To get started in traditional art supplies, you can get away with approximately $20. A tablet is going to run you at least $50, likely more. 

Keep in mind: expensive equipment does not a better artist make. A graphics tablet will not make drawing easier. Sure it has tools to help, like line stabilizers and such... but only practice will truly make you better. 

I expand on this stuff below but first, my opinion. 

My humble opinion: 

If you want to just dabble and see how you get on: go traditional. 

If you absolutely positively KNOW art is a skill you WANT to pursue no matter the degree of difficulty it is for you, that’s when you can begin to entertain the idea of a getting a tablet, but make sure you weigh everything out. 

I don’t want to see anyone shell out that kind of money and have it be used once. I cannot stress enough to make sure you know your heart before sinking in on an expensive piece of equipment like a graphics tablet. 

The rest is under the cut because this is a long post and I don’t want people to hate me. 

Digital 

If money isn’t an issue and you have a decent computer, you can consider going digital. 

 FireAlpaca, Krita, and MediBang are all free to download digital painting software. I, personally, have FireAlpaca and I love it. But I have also been toying around with trying Krita out. However, all of these programs are good enough that I don’t think you’d miss not having PaintTool SAI or Photoshop. 

I will sing the praises of my Huion graphic tablet until my dying day because it will honestly probably last me that long if I don’t upgrade to a more advanced one sometime down the line. 

Seriously. The one I have right now has already been dropped (because I’m clumsy as fuck), thrown (courtesy of a melting down kiddo), peed on and subsequently washed and sanitized (courtesy of an asshole cat), and stepped on (because my guy tripped over the asshole cat and knocked a whole bunch of shit off my desk in the process). The thing still works. They ARE built to last.  

The version I have is the H610 Pro which costs about $80.00. There is some hand/eye coordination that needs to be learned because you will be drawing on the tablet but the image will be on your screen. That can take some time to get acclimated to. 

My H610 is not the cheapest tablet they offer... I know that much but I haven’t really done a deep dive into Huion’s selection. But there are other types of tablets as well. Wacom, Yiynova, Lenovo, Microsoft, Apple, and Samsung all have tablets for artists. 

If you want to talk tablets with monitors that allow you to see what you are drawing where you are actually drawing, you’re gonna be looking at throwing down a hefty chunk of cheddar (a couple hundred at least). For Huion products, that’s the Kamvas series of tablets. 

I have had my tablet for 14 months already and I use it All. The. Time. I tell you that to tell you this: I have not yet replaced the nib on my pen and don’t anticipate having to change the nib for another year at MINIMUM. The tablet comes with four backup nibs. So, at almost daily use, you can easily get a decade worth of art out of the set they give you out the gate.

Traditional

To just do some light sketch stuff while you are getting used to drawing, it’s cheapest to just get some cheap mechanical pencils or drawing pencils and some simple printer paper. If you want a sketchbook, go cheap. 

Once you get into your groove and want to start branching out, by all means, buy more expensive supplies if that suits your fancy. But to just get started on basics: Go. Cheap!!! There is no reason to spend more than $20 (and that’s being exceptionally liberal) at Walmart or the local dollar store.  

I cannot stress enough that to just start out you don’t need pro quality anything. Crayola or RoseArt is what every. single. artist. started on because most of us started in school and just kept going from there. Those companies are still around because they are the building blocks every artist started on (at least in the USA... I don’t know about foreign markets). Guaranteed. 

I still, to this day, use Crayola colored pencils. Two reasons: 1. I’m incredibly cheap and, most importantly, 2. they work just fine. 

Conclusion (at last, amiright?) and Affirmation

I know I sold my Huion tablet pretty hard in the digital section but that’s ONLY because there is more information needed to make an informed decision (like sturdiness, brands, etc.). There is a lot less to discuss for basic supplies to just get started.  

I will suggest traditional more often than I will suggest spending boatloads of cash for a beginner.

The choice between digital and traditional largely boils down to two things:

Cost

Drive / ambition / want / dedication

For the average person/household, cost effectiveness is critical in this economy. Even if you know in your heart of hearts digital art is a skill set you want to achieve, if you can’t afford a tablet, go traditional at first and gradually save up for a tablet. If you aren’t sure you will like drawing enough to sink in AT LEAST $50- and that is a fairly low-balled price tag- go traditional. 

I will only ever recommend a tablet as a starting point to those who know with 100% certainty that drawing/digital painting is a hobby/skill they WANT to pursue. 

I know I cannot tell people what to do because, ultimately, the choice is theirs. All I can offer is my opinion and some words of wisdom and caution. 

I will say this, though:

Art is a skill, just as much as writing, sewing, knitting, and so on. ANYONE can learn this skill. Some advance faster than others due to natural aptitude but anyone can do it. You just have to dedicate time and patience to learning it. 

Every artist started with stick figures. ;)

Remember that. 

Every single one of us started by drawing stick figures. 

That’s not to say that’s where you will begin, but an affirmation that literally EVERYONE, including commissioned artists, starts in the same place. Stick figures in crayon when we were kids. We all evolved from there.   

Do NOT under ANY circumstances beat yourself up if you set out to draw a cat and it looks like Ditto with whiskers. (It’s happened to me. Literally that exact scenario. It’s okay to laugh. I sure did.) This is a Ditto, in case Pokemon isn’t your thing:

Keep at it and you will improve. I promise. Regardless of which way you go. Keep. At. It. and you will improve.

Drawing/painting is a constant evolution, regardless of medium, be it digital or a traditional one. Once you get the basics down, you begin to develop your own style. And even your own style changes as you progress. Look at mine. I’ve drawn two things for you. Hannah and Satinalia Cullen. Both mine but the styles are lightyears apart because I worked and evolved.

Studies in anatomy, color theory, light theory, and the like will be your best friends. Good reference photos will be your best friends. 

And always remember: art is 150% subjective. Look at Picasso and Jackson Pollock. They are nothing like Michelangelo, Da Vinci, or Georgia O’Keefe. All of it is art. 

Abstract, Renaissance, Nuveau, Deco, Modernism, Fauvism, Pointilism, Impressionism and the rest... All art. All very different styles. 

All. Are. Valid. 

All started with stick figures somewhere in their history. You gotta start somewhere but keep at it and you will succeed.

[themagiciansreccenter]

Author Spotlight: greywash

Every week we are going to be interviewing a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

Hi, I'm greywash! I usually go by Gins, I'm 37, I'm an engineer, and I live with my beta/writing and queerplatonic life partner HBBO (havingbeenbreathedout) in the cheap(er) seats outside San Francisco.

How long have you been writing for?

I apparently "wrote" and "illustrated" a story for my mom about a dragon who forgets his best friend's birthday when I was three, so. It's been a minute. I kill fewer crayons these days.

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

Well... basically, I followed @longnationalnightmare in from another fandom, and a few people on my Tumblr dash were reblogging gifsets, so I originally watched the show basically just for more context. (The threeway. By "more context," I mean "the threeway.") Anyway, it took me about 0.3 episodes to be completely hooked: I had read the books a few years back and was ambivalent about a lot of things in them, so when I started watching the show I was expecting a lot less than I got? I'd expected a sort of silly B-show with lousy acting, and, I mean... it is frequently *very* silly, but then it turned out that the cast ranges from 'very good' to 'incredible', and the interpersonal dynamics are *fantastic*, and those are both pure fannish bait for me. The show's not perfect, but they fixed a lot of my problems with the books, a lot of which lived on a character development level... I think the show really has done some incredible work with Quentin, especially; and also with depictions of complex, liminally-sexual queer friendships, like the relationship between Margo and Eliot, which I feel like I've never encountered represented this well in any other visual media source, ever.

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite?

Ooh, that's hard. Eliot is just my hands-down full-stop favorite character, but there's always that tricky question of "who is your favorite character to write *in the point of view of*" versus "who is your favorite character to write *about*," especially when you have a relationship or relationships you're really invested in (for me, the asymmetrical Quentin/Eliot/Margo triad). When I want to write stories that are love letters to Eliot Waugh, which is often, then I want to write from Quentin or Margo's point of view, because when I write Eliot's point of view, I am inevitably writing love letters to one or the both of them.

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about?

Well, since I came into the fandom during the post-S3 hiatus—I started watching the show in October—just by default that's where most of my work is grounded, so far.

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it?

Oh boy, I sure am! I have a lot of work to do on my 39 Graves fic, and then I still have, hm, probably another... twenty or thirty thousand words, ish? On "The Marriage Plot," which is the sequel (...sort of) to "Firebird" and also my sort of... emotional raison d'fanfic, for The Magicians. It's sort of a, uhh... well, let's call it an un-arranged-marriage fic, is the best way I can think of to put it.

How long is your “to do list”?

Oh gosh. It's atrocious, but it's also not all for /The Magicians/. There's "The Marriage Plot," but I also have a long-running /Sherlock/ WIP that got toootally hijacked by me suddenly desperately needing to write hundreds of thousands of words about Eliot and Quentin not getting married, and so I'm just getting back into that; and then I have 39 Graves. I also still owe my partner a /Sneaky Pete/ storylet and have two other outstanding prompts from the summer, one for /Lewis/ and the other for... I.... totally don't remember! /The Good Place/, I think? I saved it around here somewhere. On top of that, I'm doing fan_flashworks bingo over on Dreamwidth, and I don't want my entire bingo card to be "The Magicians," though so far that's been somewhat difficult to resist. And I love the weekly prompt idea that the Rec Center and the Neitherlands Library are running for S4! I had a blast writing for the "Identity" prompt and am looking forward to this week's as well. Well, at least I write fast.

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why?

I think I have to say "Firebird," because I haven't finished "The Marriage Plot," and who knows how that'll go; but they're so inextricably linked in my mind it's hard for me to think of "Firebird" as like—its own separate thing? I guess I can say that "Firebird" was really uncomfortable in places to write, so I'm proud of myself for getting it done without flinching away from all the, like, body horror and murder and super dubious consent; and I think it does what I want it to do. We'll see how I feel when I finish "The Marriage Plot."

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

Well, I definitely haven't been here long enough or written enough stuff to have that feeling, but—let's say "The Get Down," which is just a little bonbon about Margo and Eliot being best friends and banging a psychic. I love themmmmm~ ~ ~

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

I'm not particularly superstitious about writing, but I am hugely invested in my writing routine—I'm a write-every-day person, and I do mean 'every day'; I'm on a 2,179 day streak on 750words.com—that's a little shy of six years. People are usually horrified when I admit this, but: I get up at 5:15 in the morning seven days a week so that I can put on headphones and write for at least an hour and often more like two before work, or whatever it is that I'm doing that day. (I also go to bed at like.... eight forty-five. I am a party animal.) I also very frequently write on my lunch breaks and have the excellent fortune to live with my writing partner, so we spend loads of time writing on the weekends and talking about fiction. This is literally the life of my dreams, but you have to be a very specific kind of obsessive weirdo to feel that way, I think.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

I am too much of an egg in this fandom to have an answer to this one yet, I think. :) I probably wouldn't start a longfic during the season, but shortfic, sure, why not?

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

"Firebird," because of all the aforementioned body horror and murder and super dubious consent. I am a delicate flower, who happens to be fascinated with narrative about people confronting their personal monstrousness. It's a tough row to hoe, man.

Are there any themes or tropes that you like particularly like to explore in your writing?

For /The Magicians/, the particular dead horse that I love to flog is Fillorian marriage, and the implications that forced fidelity have for consent; and also just for how intimacy *works*, within a marriage or a long-term relationship where that sense of choice, of choosing and being chosen, is so much of what lends richness to the relationship.

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Nonfannishly: Georgette Heyer, Sarah Waters, Herman Melville, Miranda July. Fannishly.... whoo boy. In /The Magicians/, I'm still catching up on all the great stuff that people have written! @longnationalnightmare , @adjovi , @achray , @shmazarov, @numinousnumbat , and @ohmarqueliot are some of my favorites so far... in other fandoms: gosh, where to even start, I've been in fandom for 20+ years, we could be here a while. I guess since we're on the subject (sort of) of the monstrous, I reread @1001cranes ' "disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage" the other day and was just as floored by it now as I was... gosh, was that really seven years ago? Well, it's evergreen, go read it again. @septembriseur for fiction about altered consciousness. @drawsaurus for the interplay between warmth and brittleness and humor and darkness. @helenish for her endings. @havingbeenbreathedout for the interplay between sex and story, and basically everything else as well.

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Right now, I have open on my laptop: (1) @astolat 's "And I Alone Have Escaped to Tell You [which I've read before], (2) @ohmarqueliot 's "Reaching in the Dark" [which I haven't started], and (3) what is, in context, the most ironic thing *ever*: a handbook on strategies for managing ADHD. What? Don't judge me.

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

Basically that learning to write is just figuring out how to ask yourself "What are you trying to do with this _______?" (comma, word, line, paragraph, chapter, story), and then figuring out how to answer. (Thanks, Dad!)

Are there any words or phrases you worry about over using in your work?

Oh, I mean—I'm pretty okay with even the totally predictable bits of my narrative voice, I don't stress about it too hard anymore, but yes, there are a bunch of words I *know* I overuse. Especially since I'm a little bit blind to repeated words if I'm reading and not listening to my work read aloud, which—I try to do at least one pass where I get my computer to read to me when I'm editing, but I need to have both time and focus to make that work, both of which, I find, are often in short supply. "Tells"—he tells her, she told him—is *the worst*; I'm always looking for it my brain just skips over completely, it's like it's not even a word for me anymore.

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

Oh dear. I'd been in fandom for several years before I started writing, but as I recall, the first thing I actually wrote was an exceptionally overwrought and tragic Snape POV Remus/Sirius story. I have no idea what happened to it and I'm almost certainly happiest that way.

Self-edit or Beta?

Both!

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes?

All are delicious.

Smut, Fluff or Angst?

Smut.

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn?

Quick and dirty on the sex and slow burn on the feelings.

Favourite season?

Season Two

Favourite Episode?

Cheat Day

Favourite book?

The Magicians

Three favourite words?

lovely, devastating, yearning

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

[mattness]

Space Dementia

Hi, my dear friends. I got something very good for you. This is the beginning of my sloppy translation of my fanfic that you've been waiting. Sorry for silly mistakes, that meet in the text. I translated alone. So... I hope you enjoy.

OTP: Jennifer Wright/Robert Grey Genres: Romance, Angst, Drama, Detective, Psychology, Hurt/comfort, Humdrum, Horror, AU, Friendship  Summary: She thought she had found salvation in him, but she didn't know she was at the mercy of a horrible monster who had own plans for her. //// Chapter I. 2007, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia Stood may sunny day, heralding a warm summer. The blue sky was absolutely clear and the cool wind was sneaking into the small children's room. The curtains swayed from the easy impulses, sometimes forcing the fifteen-year-old girl to swear. They bothered her to collect items from red chest, who was standing right by the window made it difficult to find something very important and valuable. To find the room was a mess: everywhere littered with toys, crayons and school books interspersed with items of clothing. Now the reigning mess did not bother the hostess of the room at all because she's late. Parents waited in the car, putting before the fact that if is going to take longer than necessary, they will go to  grandmother without her. But the girl couldn't go on the road without his beloved soft toy-bear, which has always been with her almost from the cradle. "Jennifer!" a stern voice was heard from her mother at the foot of the stairs in the corridor. "I'm coming!" shouted in the answer girl, finally finding the necessary and the most expensive thing from the entire his room. She hugged the bear cub tightly and threw her backpack over her shoulders and ran out of the room.

The door to the house slammed, and she enthusiastically jumped into the big blue BMW. Father, glancing in the rearview mirror, smiled at her daughter and started the engine. His wife constantly looking at the clock. She was very unhappy that they were already half an hour late. Dyed hair dark red waves falling on her sharp shoulders, slightly obscuring an oval face, which wore the grimace of discontent. Blue eyes constantly examined the interior of the car, as if not knowing what to stop. The woman pursed her full lips, fingering something in her hands. Little Jennifer always thought her mother was very beautiful, even when she was not in the mood. Although the girl never saw that Mary was happy. As if she's something has long been disappointed and now was upset with the whole world and their own lives. She is always cold treated her daughter like she was her non-native. Unlike Chester, the girl's father. He enjoyed spending time with Jenni, telling stories and tales. The black-haired man always tried to devote time to the daughter. His brown eyes radiated the most sincere love and kindness. This couldn't hide even the glasses, which he began to wear recently. Chester was quiet and peaceful man, he rarely raised his voice at anyone and kept all the anger in yourself. As soon as Mary throw another tantrum, he tried to silently listen to her and understand what was wrong. Probably because of his soldier's endurance and nerves of steel their marriage and Mary has still not disintegrated. Recently, however, the wife began to behave strangely, and something inside tells Chester that he's going to lose her. Jen never meddled with her parents relationship because she thought it was a personal matter. They'll figure it out fine without her help. Moreover, the girl didn't want after her words catching unhappy, angry and full of reproaches her mother's eyes. So now she turned to the window, inserting headphones into her ears to isolate herself from the outside world. Most of all she was like her father. She had the same dark hair, freckled face and neat nose. Plump lips and blue eyes, the girl got from her mother. Character she also largely took over from the father. Jennifer showed kindness and responsiveness, tried never to be rude, but sometimes she's very stubborn. The car moved smoothly from the place, going from Sunny Philadelphia to the North of the country, to the small town of Derry, located in Maine. The road promised to be long. In a way it is necessary to make some stops to fill a tank with gasoline, and also everybody to have a snack and to gain strength for the further road. Jennifer, as she's can remember, every summer went to Derry for two weeks to visit her grandmother. Her house was located closest to the city center, where almost no one was walking. The girl truly did not understand why parents doing this to her every year. No, of course, she loved to chat with her grandmother, who was always in stock a lot of stories. However, Jen continued to not understand parents until she was thirteen. It was then that she realized that all this time they were trying to spend alone with each other and to establish relations. Now at fifteen, sitting in the back seat of the car and vaguely hearing the curses of mother, Jen was really hoping for these two weeks, they will be able to love each other again. But with every trip to Derry for the last three years, she believed it less and less. Plunged into her own thoughts and music in her headphones, Jennifer closed eyes. The car began to seasick her, and the tenacious paws of Morpheus dragged the girl into the sweet realm of dreams.

* * *  "Wake up, sleeping beauty," the gentle whispered of father, and Jen slowly opened her eyes and smiled. “Get up, Jenni. We're in Derry.” The girl nodded in response, getting out of the car and taking the backpack. She looked around, finding herself on the broad street of little Derry. Unlike Philadelphia, here was cloudy weather. The sky was overcast with gray clouds, and the treetops swayed continually in the icy wind. The girl shivered from the cold, deciding quickly to go to grandma's house. No matter how many times Jennifer was in Derry, she never liked it here. First, there was always no one to walk with. She didn't understand why this small and seemingly cozy town, so little children. And young here was a bit. All at once went to the big cities, to enter universities. Nobody wanted to sit in that hole. Jen with confidence can tell that this place is specially created for the elderly like her grandmother. Here, nothing ever happens, everyone knows each other and spread unpleasant gossip. In short, a real village, thought the girl to herself, looking around. "Jenny, go to the house!" shouted grandmother, already meeting its on the threshold of. "Hi, grandma!" Jennifer exclaimed joyfully, rushing into the arms of her beloved Granny. “I miss you. Are you?” "I am also insanely missed you, sweetie," smiled the woman and stroked her granddaughter's dark hair. “You're all grown up, Jen.” “Quit, granny.” "Let's go for a walk today in the supermarket, and then go on the swing?" she chuckled, suggesting a routine ritual she and Jen had always performed. The dark-haired girl nodded in response, paying attention to the parents who had left the house. Mary folded the bag of food they had brought with them into a small black bag. She serious looked around the whole area, as if looking for someone among the trees and bushes. Then the woman turned her attention to her mother Christine, smiling stiffly. "I put all the food in the fridge. Money on your desk, mom," cold said Mary. “If anything happens, call me.” "I know what to do, honey," Christine snorted, hugging Jennifer tightly and smiling at her. “We'll be fine as usual.” At this point, the house was left by Chester, also smiling. He didn't want to leave his daughter for a long time in Derry, because it is unlikely that anything will change in the two weeks of her absence at home: Mary was adamant and seems to be going to file for divorce. The woman approached her daughter, pulling an unnatural smile on her face again. It made Jennifer uncomfortable. She was too used to the stern expression on her mother's face. "Behave yourself, Jennifer," her mother said quietly, patting her cheek with a cold hand. "Bye." "Bye, mom," Jen quietly squeezed out. "Don't let her go anywhere, Mrs. Wheeler," said Chester, crouching on his knees in front of the girl. In the answer she smiled. "I've heard strange things about Derry." "Tales of clowns again, dad?" Jennifer smiled, rolling her eyes. "I don't believe in them. Especially since I spend all my time with grandmother. Too boring here." "It'll be all right, Chester," Mrs. Wheeler assured him. Chester smiled and hugged daughter. She snuggled into him, not wanting to part with him for two long weeks. The man released her and walked to the car where Mary already waiting him. Dad waved to his daughter, sitting in the BMW and starting the engine. Christine and Jen watched as the blue car headed away from Derry, back to Philadelphia. The girl sighed, feeling like every minute longing for the native home, for mom and dad becoming more and more. * * *  In Derry the storm began again. Heavy rain poured outside the window, spoiling Jennifer's mood. Today she wanted to go for a walk with her grandmother around the city again, see all the few sights for the hundredth time and go to the supermarket for groceries. But the stupid rain ruined everything. Somewhere high in the sky lightning flashed, and there was a deafening thunder. In the living room TV for a moment ceased to catch a signal. Grandmother swore loudly, making Jen burst out laughing. Getting up from the sofa, an elderly woman came to the old ruin and knocked. The girl sighed, continuing to listen to her grandmother's curses and look out the window. Drops slowly dripping down the glass, dissolving into each other. The wide road was completely flooded, and the dirty water ran into a small storm drain, which was located at the bottom of the curb. “What's clown, granny?” suddenly Jennifer asked, continuing to mesmerize dark storm drain on the opposite side of the street. “Ah?” surprised grandmother. "Well... Dad said something was going on in Derry. He told me about some clown. Weird fairy tale. I vaguely remember", said girl, frowning. "I was five or seven." "No wonder that you don't remember." Jennifer was immediately distracted from the contemplation of the rain and sat down beside Christine on the couch. Grandma hugged her granddaughter with one hand over his shoulder, the other has lowered the volume on the TV. The woman sighed, sinking into his memories, and slowly start: "This clown appeared here when I was about twenty-five years old. Maybe a little less. It was during this period that children began to disappear. A lot of children are missing, and no one could find them", with each word, the elderly woman went into herself more and more. "The madman who disguised himself as a clown only got caught by the police once. But he escaped. Almost immediately. Many years have passed since then. I was hoping that psycho was dead." "He back in Derry?" cautiously asked Jen. "Yes. And I heard that from you. You told me you saw him waving at you from the bushes." said the grandmother, than scared girl. Suddenly Jennifer was confused, plunging into her own memories…

* * *  In Derry came one of the few sunny summer days, and Jennifer, of course, persuaded her grandmother to go for a walk. They reached the main square, where many people always gathered. On the playground the kids were playing, which was quite a bit. Jen sprinted off to the Playground while her grandmother crouched down to rest after a long road. The left leg was treacherously sick. Jennifer happily jumped on the free swing to the face to trees and bushes, enclosed by an iron grating. There, behind the fence, was a small nature reserve Derry, and there were forbidden to go. On the grid could be seen a yellow plate with the inscription: "Private protected area. For illegal entry - a fine of 1000 $". The swing rose high in the air, and the girl was enjoying this wonderful feeling she flies. Such a clear and blue sky could be reached with your feet, which inspired even more. Seemed, even a bit, and Jennifer indeed going to fly. She fancied herself a bird, until she again turned her attention to the fenced trees. Among the bushes could see something white, and Jen, distracted from their fantasies, tried to see a strange spot. Behind the bars stood a man in a white clown costume. Red buttons-pompons did not look ridiculous, but rather gave a special charm to lush clothes. White collar, the same white makeup on the face and red hair. The lips, painted in red, is immediately stretched in a welcoming smile, it was worth the girl to draw a clown's attention. He waved to the girl, then motioned to him. Jennifer stopped the swing, wondering if she should approach the clown behind bars. The girl frowned and showed the clown a finger, indicating she'd be back in a minute. Clown subtly smiled in anticipation, but that baby hasn't seen. "Grandma, can I go play with the clown?" running up to grandmother, loudly asked Jen. "Which clown?" woman immediately distracted from their crosswords. "Well, he's there, at the gate", she explained and turned to point a finger at the clown, who is there already, of course, was not. "Oh, he's probably gone. Pity!" "Let's go home, Jennifer", frowning and saying no more, her grandmother said sternly, and taking the girl by the hand, led her to the side of the house. The girl turned back, noticing that the clown was standing in the same place. He pouted angrily and wiped the nonexistent tears from his face. Jennifer was confused, thinking, that made the right decision. Otherwise, the grandmother raised the whole district on the ears… * * *  Two weeks visiting the grandma have passed for Jennifer unexpectedly quickly. She always found something to do: read books, in good weather, was walking with his grandmother in the bad watching TV with her, sometimes painted in your album. All the time the girl found something to do, and memories of that stupid meeting with a possible maniac Derry themselves out of my head. Again high in the sky the sun was shining and Jen first heard the birds singing, sitting on the veranda of the house. Grandma took out of the house on a tray of tea and cookies. The girl smiled at her when she sat down opposite and began to tell another story from his life. Christine traveled around the world a lot and saw a lot of things. She always had the opportunity to go from Derry to some metropolis to live in luxury, but she still remained in this backwater. Jennifer couldn't understand her. To which grandma replied that after many years Jen will understand it. Suddenly the girl was distracted from the story grandmother, noticing how the house is approached from afar the familiar blue BMW. Jen was confused, because parents usually pick her up on Sunday, and today was only Friday. Grandmother also drew attention to the car, which has already stopped near the house. For wheel as and always was Chester. He turned off the engine and got out of the car. Jen instantly fell from her seat, running towards her father with cheers. Chester picked up the girl in his arms, kissing her on the cheek and squeezed. "Why are you here so early?" Jennifer was surprised, already being on the ground. "I'll tell you everything, kitten. But first I need to talk to your grandmother", calmly replied the father, and together they went to the house. "Mrs. Wheeler, can I have a word?" "Sure, Chester." smiled woman, rising and heading for the kitchen. The man followed her, asking Jen to sit in the living room. Girl nodded in response, not knowing what happened. Dad rarely talked to his grandmother about something serious, she thought to herself. And it usually didn't bode well. Jennifer frowned, including TV and starting to look for something interesting among a long list of channels. After a few minutes, the adults came back from the kitchen, and Jen immediately noticed how gloomy grandmother. It was as if she was plunged into some bad memories from her life, which made the girl feel uncomfortable. All her attention turned to father, who sat opposite her. "Jennifer, listen to me carefully", quietly asked Chester, hard sighing. Girl sat down on the edge of the sofa with her hands folded in her lap. She was preparing to hear anything, if only not very bad. But severe and focused expression of papa's face she understood that it happened something serious. And it hit him really hard. Because he has always the cheerful face, but now it showing no emotion. "Your mom... She left." dad started gently, and her eyes immediately glistened with tears. "We're divorced, sweetheart." "Where she left?" sobbed Jen. “I don’t know”, Chester shrugged his shoulders in confusion. "She's coming back, right? Yes, dad?" no longer holding back tears, hoping girl asked. "I don't think so, Jenni." Christine, who was watching them, sighed. Heart sank in pain, desperately trying to understand why her daughter left her family. The woman herself was ready to cry, seeing as Jen snuggled up to daddy. Inside the girl something painfully broke, and instead of love to the mother, which and so it was always cold, had formed a black abyss of hatred.

[whistlingpig]

I’m going to vanish for a while, but before I do, I think I should explain myself so nobody gets the wrong idea:

A few days ago, I stumbled across a TikTok video of a fat girl showing off her bathing suit. Against my better judgement, I looked at the comment section. It was filled with trolls repeating the same tired fat jokes I’ve heard a thousand times before. At this point, they shouldn’t hurt. But they do. And I haven’t been able to get them out of my head

Every time I’m forced to share the same space with another human being, I find myself wondering... do they feel this way about me? Are they offended by my stomach, my rolls, my chins? Are they just pretending to be nice? 

It’d be different if being fat was the only thing I had working against me, but I’m also extremely socially awkward, stupid, and uncoordinated. I stumble over my words, I lisp, I blurt out dumb observations at the wrong times, ask questions with obvious answers. Furniture creaks when I sit on it, I breathe heavy, I’m clumsy/accident prone, and I’m ugly! 

If I had my way, I’d live like a hermit. I’ve never enjoyed socializing; it’s draining for me. Even after a positive social interaction, I need to retreat to the safety of my bedroom and recharge for several days As the saying goes: you don’t just marry a person - you marry the whole family. It’s true. And for me, it’s been a never-ending nightmare of awkward exchanges. I’m quite certain at this point that my father-in-law despises me. Why wouldn’t he, after all? I’ve never given him a reason to like me! I believe my mother-in-law simply tolerates me because it’s necessary in order to keep in contact with her beloved son. I think... long before we ever actually met, they formed negative opinions of me based on things Jim told them: that I was an alcoholic, that I was in and out of the hospital for various ‘mystery’ ailments, that I was pushy, physically violent when drunk, mentally ill, and unable to work. I’m definitely not the person they hoped their son would spend the rest of his life with

It’s not my intention to catalogue every passive-aggressive remark my in-laws make around me.. I don’t want to be the kind of person who collects grievances and plays the victim-card. That’s what my sister does! However, because I have such thin skin, I find it difficult to let other peoples’ comments roll off my back

A couple of recent examples: 

- My MIL asked Jim and me to take a couple photos of her with her husband. We happily obliged. When we’d finished, she insisted they turn the camera on us. I laughed it off and said I don’t do photos. She just wouldn’t take no for an answer, though.. She kept telling us to pose. Jim could sense I was panicking - he pulled his mom aside to explain that I’m very uncomfortable with having my photo taken. She finally relented and I thought “whew, crisis averted!”. But later, as we were standing on the porch together, she turned to me and said, “if I ever take a photo of you, just know I’m not trying to steal your soul.” I just laughed. She doesn’t know I used to spend hours photographing myself from different angles, then circling the parts of my body I hated most. She doesn’t know I used to cover my mirrors. She doesn’t know how unhealthy my relationship with my own body is. And how could she? It’s my problem, not hers! But her flippant remark not only hurt my feelings, it made me feel as if my past trauma had somehow inconvenienced HER. I should have sucked it up and let her take the photo. She would have showed it to us. I would have spent the night having a meltdown. I wanted to avoid that

- We accompanied my MIL to the church to look at leftovers from a rummage sale. The idea was to get some cheap clothes/shoes. As soon as we arrived, I started looking for things I might be able to wear. Jim wandered off to the other end of the building to look at toys. He kept holding up silly items to show me and at one point I jokingly said, “hey, you aren’t even looking at clothes!!” His mom must have thought I was genuinely angry because she kinda snapped at me that “he can look at other things if he wants.” Jim and I engage in playful banter all the time; neither of us are serious! It isn’t the first time she’s felt the need to rush to his defense when she didn’t like the way we were kidding around. It’s kind of bizarre? She got angry when we were going through his old school journals and laughing at the misspelled words/crayon drawings. We weren’t laughing at JIM! Just at the silly things he wrote/drew.

- Today I was putting together a small package for my mom. I went in the bedroom to get a piece of paper for a note & when I came back out to the living room, Jim was gone. I said, “I never know where my husband goes! He vanished again!” My FIL replied: “It’s a husband thing. He’s doing it to save himself.” Maybe he said protect? I can’t recall. Either way, the gist of the joke was that husbands need to get away from their wives so they don’t go crazy. I laughed and sarcastically said, “oh come on, I know he loves spending every waking moment of his life with me.” Didn’t catch whatever FIL said next, but I think it must’ve been mean-spirited or something because MIL apologized on his behalf. This was shortly before I was reminded of the 4th of July, 2018. When I was pressured into trying to ride a horse, AFTER I’d expressed concerns over my weight being an issue. She insisted I try to get in the saddle, even though I wasn’t comfortable. It ended with her in the ER with a dislocated shoulder. Jack was furious. Today I was reminded about how he had to drive her to the ER and spend the evening in the waiting room with a bunch of weirdos. Just a joke, of course. But not really. Because he really was angry. And it really did ruin his night. But just a joke, of course.

I feel like everyone expected some sort of magical transformation to occur as soon as I was removed from the toxic shithole I used to live in. Maybe they thought I’d “come out of my shell”? That, instead of being overwhelmed, I’d embrace the idea of joining their enormous family and fit right in! The opposite happened. At first, I forced myself to be around them... As time went on, I returned to my reclusive lifestyle. Keeping others at arm’s length might make me look like a snob, but it’s how I’ve always been. It probably won’t change any time soon.

MIL and I are very different. When I get a package, I wait for the UPS driver to leave before I run out to grab it. She’ll meet the UPS driver at the door and have a 45-minute conversation with him

Anyway, the bottom line is.... I don’t belong here. After almost a year, I can say that with confidence. I’m not cut out to be part of a family! This has been weighing on my mind heavily for the past several months. Now I’m beginning to obsess over my weight/appearance again. I’m an insecure mess. I’m also rationing my medications........ it’s a perfect recipe for disaster

The other night, Jim’s cousin asked us over for hot dogs & drinks. I made an appearance - ONLY because it’s been so long since I’ve seen him and his girlfriend. I don’t want them to think I’m avoiding them! I feel like it didn’t go very well, though... As a fat person, eating in front of others is always complicated. On the one hand, I don’t want to offend the host by refusing food they cooked specifically for me. On the other, I don’t want to attract attention by being a fat woman eating a hot dog, lmao. The right thing to do would have been to decline - to give the impression I actually give a rat’s ass about my weight. Jim’s cousin’s girlfriend did that - and she probably only weighs like 100 pounds. I noticed, every time I took a bite of my hot dog, she stared. Why? Because you’re disgusted? Entertained? Are you asking yourself what my husband sees in me? You ignore everything I post on Instagram, but you like everything my husband posts. I notice these things. I wish I didn’t, but I do. I drank a cider. I got tipsy. I laughed a little too loud at jokes that weren’t funny. My teeth were throbbing. I made a bad impression. She kept looking at me, but every time I tried to make eye contact, she turned away

I could lose weight. By that, I mean, it’s physically possible. Do I have the self-control to stop guzzling soda and eating fast food? Probably not. But I’m off the market, I’m married, my husband likes to grind his hard dick against my stomach and knead my love-handles while I lie on top of him. Does it matter what anyone else thinks? I guess it does. Maybe It does when nobody knows he likes me this way. That he tells me he prefers fat women

Yeah, I could lose weight. Do I really want to, though? If I lost 100 pounds & suddenly began receiving compliments from the same people who treated me like a leper when I was fat.... Would I want that? No. You can take your beauty-standards and shove them up your ass. I don’t want to lose weight to win the approval of people who wouldn’t give me the time of day when I was fat

But it isn’t her fault she was disgusted by me. She takes care of her body

You know what I want? More than anything? Money. Enough money to live comfortably. Alone. I don’t want to die. I just want to remove myself from this bad situation. Live in solitude. Give Jim back to his family

And I want to vanish from the internet, too. Because if you knew me in real life, you’d be disappointed. If you like me online, it just means I’ve somehow managed to fool you. I would like to be forgotten! Move on, make real friends, and succeed!

I’m not stupid. I mean, I am. But I’m aware my social media accounts are just a source of entertainment for the handful of people who follow ‘em. I’m not quite... oh, what do they call it on Kiwifarms? A Lolcow? My meltdowns occur on a small, mostly empty corner of the internet. At least they’re still funny

Thanks for reading, if you did. I’ll be going now.

[lordofthebigtimesupernatural]

Prompt: could you write about how and when Keith was first diagnosed with autism?

Hello there! This prompt was hard in which I wanted it to be perfect. This prompt is probably one of the biggest ones for this AU in dealing with Keith. I hope to have done it justice despite working on it many times. Thanks for the great prompt nonny and I hope you enjoy!

x.V.x

              Keith was a happy young kid.

              At least, Shiro was pretty sure that Keith was a happy kid. Sometimes it was hard to tell, and other times Shiro could read the happy smile off Keith like a book. However, he’d never given much thought to some of the differences in Keith’s personality to other kids his age.

              Like how it had taken Keith four years to say one word. Or how he avoided direct contact since the day that Shiro had brought him home. There were also times where Keith didn’t know what to do with his hands and would sometimes tug on his hair when he was upset or wave them around when he was excited.

              Bad jokes weren’t allowed in Shiro’s house, especially after the incident where Shiro’s father accidentally made Keith believe that Shiro wasn’t coming home anymore. Most jokes had to be explained to Keith, along with directly telling him when a person was angry or upset or happy.

              Still, it never bothered Shiro, until a doctor’s visit.

              It was a standard check-up for the four-year-old at Keith’s standard pediatrician. He’d cried and practically screamed during his shot. He’d thrown a fit when the doctor tried to look in his ears and throat. He’d laughed when the doctor booped his nose and knees. Overall, there was nothing out of the ordinary, other than Keith actually speaking this time.

              Towards the end of the appointment, while Keith was picking out which Band-Aid he wanted for his arm, the doctor had pulled Shiro aside.

              “I hear Keith is finally speaking.” She smiled, causing Shiro to grin.

              “Yeah! He started a couple months back after I got back from a…trip. Since then he’s been saying more and more words every day. It’s not a lot yet but it’s something!” Shiro stated happily, glancing in the room and waving at Keith. Keith beamed while the nurse put the Band-Aid on his arm before being distracted by more Band-Aids.

              “That’s excellent Shiro! I was a bit concerned he would remain non-verbal for many more years but this is a tremendous step for him.” The doctor replied. Shiro blinked, confused by her choice of words, but found himself nodding along. It really was tremendous and Shiro was extremely proud of his little boy.

              “Ah, yeah. Why would you be concerned?” Shiro finally asked, lowering his voice. He didn’t want Keith to hear any of this discussion, in case it took an unexpected turn.

              “Mostly because I’ve seen many cases similar to Keith where children haven’t become verbal until much later in life. It’s not a bad thing but it can hinder things such as learning and going to school at the appropriate age.” The doctor explained softly. Shiro swallowed. “However, if Keith’s speech continues to improve then I see no need for you to stall his learning experience at school next year.”

              “Dr. Karen,” Shiro hesitated as he bit his lip. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

              The doctor was quiet for a minute, hands in her pocket, before sighing. “Shiro, have you ever heard of the term, autism? Or the autism spectrum?” She asked, eyes lingering on Keith. Shiro stared at his son, chest suddenly feeling heavy before nodding slowly.

              “I’ve heard the word, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about it.” Shiro admitted softly.

              “Medically speaking, autism is a variable developmental disorder that is characterized by impairment of the ability to form normal social relationships, and the impairment to communicate with others, and is often associated by repetitive behavior patterns.” Dr. Karen explained quietly. Shiro felt his head spinning at all of the medical terminologies in her explanation and he was beginning to feel a bit dumbed down, only for the doctor to smile at him.

              “Autism is not an illness or a “condition” as some people may call it,” Dr. Karen stated firmly. “There’s no reason to explain how and why it happens. It’s not usually genetic or caused in any way. Autism really is a disorder that can affect a person’s development in social means and communication. It varies by person or child. Some autistic children can communicate, as you and I would and appear to easily make an abundance of social relationships. Others find it extremely difficult to understand social behaviors or express themselves properly. Neither is better than the other and by no means does it make your child more “normal.”” She continued, while Shiro remained staring at his son.

              “Do you believe Keith to be autistic?” Shiro finally asked.

              Dr. Karen smiled softly. “Unfortunately, I am not trained to properly diagnose Keith. I can only say that I see similar traits in Keith with other children that we have diagnosed, but for a proper diagnosis I can refer you to one of our child psychologists and doctors at the children’s hospital.”

              Shiro licked his lips. “Would Keith really need a diagnosis? If he’s doing so well?”

              “Shiro,” Dr. Karen began. “I know you’re not this type of parent and it’s going to take time, but leaving a child undiagnosed can be harmful later in life. With a proper diagnosis, we can start to help Keith where he needs it and it can become helpful during Keith’s academic career should he need help or any adjustments at his schools. For example, Keith’s speech is improving but he can also receive help to further improve his speech or provide alternatives for Keith to communicate should he feel that he can’t express himself verbally. This isn’t only to help Keith, but also for you as his parent. Keith is already processing things differently and that’s perfectly fine, however, you might not be used to it and could find yourself unable to help Keith when he needs you.”

              Now Shiro was really feeling overwhelmed. Not because of Keith’s possible diagnosis but rather at the idea of not being able to help his son. Shiro never wanted to feel helpless when it came to his son. He always wanted to make sure Keith had everything he needed to succeed and that included having Shiro’s help 100% of the time.

              “I know this might be a lot to take in, but first and foremost there is nothing wrong with your son.”

              “Of course not! Keith is perfect.” Shiro argued instantly, forgetting his insecurities. Dr. Karen couldn’t help but smile proudly at Shiro. Keith was in perfect hands with Shiro.

              “Alright, let’s schedule an appointment for Keith…”

x.V.x

              “Was the doctor fun?” Shiro asked as he was finally allowed back into the rooms where Keith was. He was amazed by all of the games, puzzles, and equipment that was back here. It didn’t look much like a scary doctor office and Shiro was already feeling better about his decision to come.

              “Yeah. Dr. Leo nice. We play puzzles and there was an obstacle course and I draw pictures when he asked me stuff.” Keith nodded absently as he continued drawing. He was kneeling at a table with the man, Dr. Leo, sitting beside him. Shiro could already see several pages of notes all over his notepad and he desperately tried not to peek at them like a cheating school kid. Taking a deep breath, Shiro knelt down beside Keith and opposite of Dr. Leo.

              “Hello there, I’m Dr. Leo as you’re well aware.” The doctor reached over to shake his hand.

              “Takashi Shirogane but everyone calls me Shiro.” Shiro greeted with a soft smile. The doctor beamed at him and nodded.

              “Alright, so I’m going to just go over my notes with you right now. Keith should stay so he can hear too and understand what’s being said.” Dr. Leo nodded towards Keith who was still drawing. Shiro bit his lip, worried that Keith wasn’t going to listen. Typically, when drawing Keith didn’t listen to anyone but Shiro, and even then, sometimes he ignored Shiro.

              “Alright now Keith, it’s time to stop drawing and look up at your dad and I as we talk.” Dr. Leo smiled over at Keith. However, Keith made no effort that he had heard Dr. Leo and continued to draw. Shiro swallowed.

              However, Dr. Leo never stopped smiling and didn’t get frustrated with Keith as Shiro had feared. Instead, he began to put away the crayons spread all over the table and the other stacks of paper. Keith continued to draw all throughout this before putting down his crayon. Quickly, Dr. Leo put that one away when Keith reached across the table only for his hand to grab at nothing. Blinking with a frown, he looked up from his drawing to see the crayons were all gone.

              “Hey Keith, remember what we talked about when someone is talking to you?” Dr. Leo said gently. Keith blinked, looking away and huffed. “We look at people when they’re talking and when they ask you to do something we do it? Right?”

              Keith continued to huff for another five minutes before he gently pushed his drawing towards Dr. Leo and the rest of the paper. He turned to look at his dad and Shiro was shocked.

              “Great job Keith! That was perfect!” Dr. Leo praised, nodding at Shiro to do the same.

              “Yeah, sweetheart! You did great!” Shiro quietly cheered, earning a grin from Keith. Slowly, Keith crawled over into Shiro’s lap turning to face Dr. Leo, but his eyes wandered around the room.

              “Thank you, Keith.” Dr. Leo said before turning his attention to Shiro. “Now, Shiro, I want you to understand that we are not here to talk about curing or treatments but we are here to talk about Keith’s future and what this means for you and him especially.”

              Silently, Shiro nodded.

              “Alright, Keith?” Shiro looked down to see Keith’s eyes flicker towards Dr. Leo and staying focused on him for a couple of seconds before looking away. Every few seconds he would look back at Dr. Leo before looking away. “Do you understand what the word autistic means?”

              Quietly, Keith shook his head against Shiro’s chest several more times than necessary.

              “Autism is a medical term for a developmental disorder. That means that some people have trouble learning and expressing certain things. Do you understand that?” Dr. Leo began slowly. Keith blinked at the ceiling before nodding.

              “Um, hard to speak sometimes? Or get jokes?” Keith mumbled quietly. Dr. Leo smiled brightly and nodded.

              “For some autistic people that is very true! Do you have trouble speaking sometimes or getting jokes?”

              Keith merely nodded without an explanation.

              “Not every person that is autistic has these troubles and sometimes they have other troubles that your dad or I don’t have. However, this simply means that we all process thoughts and ideas differently.”

              “Is it bad?” Keith whispered, causing Shiro’s heart to break in his chest. Gently he pulled Keith up into a hug and shook his head.

              “Oh sweetheart, no. There is nothing bad about being autistic! It’s a part of who you are. You think about things differently than I do, and sometimes it’s harder for you to understand but that is never bad!” Keith blinked owlishly up at Shiro finally looking him in the eyes and Shiro smiled.

              “Your dad is right Keith.” Dr. Leo began.

              “Daddy.” Keith interrupted. “It’s daddy.”

              Dr. Leo smiled when many others would have gotten mad at the interruption. “Your daddy is right. There is nothing bad about being autistic. However, it does mean that you might have to do certain things in order to help yourself. Such as speaking. You say that it’s hard for you to speak; do you feel like not speaking at all sometimes?”

              Quietly Keith nodded.

              “And even though you know the right words and what to say, you still don’t want to speak?”

              Again Keith nodded.

              “That’s perfectly fine Keith! There are other ways to speak without having to say anything out loud.” Dr. Leo explained. Keith’s eyes darted over to him before looking away again. “Have you ever heard of sign language?”

              Slowly, Keith shook his head.

              “Sign language is a way to talk using your hands! See you move your hands into a specific pattern or shape in order to say a word or a letter. We understand what you are trying to say as you move your hands into different shapes and that is how you communicate without having to speak at all!” Dr. Leo said happily, while Keith perked up in Shiro’s lap. “Sign language would be excellent for you and your daddy to learn.”

              “You could teach me?” Shiro asked softly.

              “Of course!”

              Keith was staring up at his dad once more with bright eyes and Shiro couldn’t help but melt under his son’s gaze.

              “I’d really like that. And anything else you can help me in order to help Keith.” Shiro said with appreciation. Keith nodded absentmindedly in his lap and gave Shiro several pats on the cheek, signifying his joy. Dr. Leo smiled at the sight and nodded.

              “Of course. Now Keith,” Dr. Leo said before pausing until Keith had looked at him for another second. “You are autistic and there is nothing wrong with that.”

              “Nothing at all sweetheart. You are always my little star.” Shiro added with a grin.

              “I,” Keith began hesitantly. “I am autistic. And,” He licked his lips before running his hand up and down Shiro’s shirt. “And there’s no bad.”    

              “No bad ever,” Shiro replied. Keith nodded more firmly this time.

              “Excellent!” Dr. Leo clapped and Shiro chuckled when Keith frowned in disappointment at the man’s excitement. “Now Shiro, Keith’s biggest struggles seem to be in understand social clues and comprehending social…”

              As Shiro looked down at Keith, he found that nothing about his love had changed for Keith. Keith was his son and he always would be. And Shiro was going to be there for Keith for the rest of his life.          

              No matter what.

[theeurekaproject]

Alienigena

“You know,” Athena said, “I never would have pegged us as the type who’d be good at politics.” She fidgeted with the sleeve of her white dress, which didn't look like something she would ever willingly wear. Acidalia had suggested it and Carina had forced Athena into it; she didn’t seem particularly happy about the garment, and it was bound to end up in a crumpled ball of fabric on the floor by the end of the meeting.

“Well, we are astrophysicists,” Carina said, trying to hide the fact that her voice was shaking. She was also dressed in a gown that seemed to expensive for someone of her stature, and she felt just as awkward in it as she probably looked. It was a gorgeous dress that most likely cost more than her rent, but that didn’t make her feel any more comfortable in it—it was so clearly made for Acidalia that it felt like every seam and piece of fabric was in the wrong place. The skirt was too long, the waist was too small, and the chest and hips were too large. Carina felt like a knockoff Imperatrix, like an off-brand version of Acidalia that one might find in the bargain bin of a big box store. Her very un-Imperial short, straight hair didn’t help matters—no matter how much she wrestled with it, it seemed to settle back into strict bob, and it was too light for Acidalia’s black bobby pins to blend in. She was a stranger in a world she never thought she’d have a place in—all of this was Aleskynn’s territory much more than it was Carina’s.

Then again, Athena looked even worse, so maybe Carina was just overreacting. At least she hadn’t managed to destroy the sleeves of her dress.

“Stop playing with that, you’re ruining it,” she said. “Look, now there are loose threads.” “Well, if they didn’t want me to ruin it, they should have made it sturdier.” Athena pulled on another thread, which created a rippling, cinched effect from the top of the sleeve to the bottom. “This thing is probably more expensive than the Hope Diamond, but it feels like it’s made of paper.” “I mean, it’s made for noblewomen, isn’t it? They don’t do a whole lot of heavy lifting, or any work at all.” Carina couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen Aleskynn do much of anything, really. Mostly she just sat around and complained, neither of which were the types of activities that would strain clothing.

“Noblewomen or not, if I can’t kick someone’s ass in all my finery, that finery isn’t worth the price,” Athena retorted, frowning down at the glitter that fell from her bodice every time she moved.

Behind them, someone laughed in a way that was instantly recognizable as the stilted chortle of a rich lady—a rehearsed sound somewhere in-between the o~hohoho of an anime ojou and the polite chuckle a parent might do when their child presented them with a crayon drawing. Carina turned around to see Acidalia, leaning against a bulkhead and looking amused. “I quite agree,” she said, smiling slightly. “If you can’t fight in a dress, why wear the dress at all?”

“Then why are you wearing that?” Athena asked, and, for once, Carina had to agree that she was right. Acidalia’s outfit was the epitome of impracticality—it was a cross between a Greco-Roman toga and a very large ballgown, which had been dipped in enough glitter that it could probably blind anyone who looked at it too hard. She was absolutely dripping with jewelry and regalia, which looked like it would hinder more than help her, and she was about five inches taller than she’d been before, meaning she must have been wearing even higher, fancier heels. From the way her skirts swept against the floorboards, Carina could tell she was wearing a crinoline, and several more skirts on top of that. Plus, her waist was cinched so tight that there was no explanation for it other than a very tight corset, which didn’t seem comfortable at all.

“Ballgowns are actually easier to fight in than you might expect,” Acidalia said. “There’s plenty of room for footwork under the skirt, and crinolines are very flexible, or it’d look like you’re walking around with a cage under your dress. And at a certain point, the bigger the skirt, the better—it protects your legs from scratches and hits, and sometimes even laser fire. I have multiple armored skirts.”

“But wouldn’t you trip on the hem?” “Not if you’re graceful about it. It’s usually fine, as long as you don’t try to run backwards.” Athena looked curious. “Hmmm. I’m going to have to test that.” “Don’t. You’ll get a concussion,” Carina warned. “So? I’ve had two concussions and my brain is fi-iiineee.” She slurred the last word for comedic effect, but nobody laughed (though Acidalia did look mildly amused.) “But what about the rest of it? High heels, corsets? Do you just break the heels off?” “You can’t make flats by breaking the heels off of stilettos,” Acidalia said, “but you can always kick them off. And the corsets are usually fine, too. If they’re laced up so you can breathe—which mine always are; Terra’s atmosphere makes it difficult enough for humans to breathe when their lungs aren’t being compressed, and I don’t need to suffocate in the middle of a speech—they aren’t that restrictive. I suppose it would be a problem if someone got you down onto the ground, because they do make it harder—though not impossible—to get up from that position. The worst part about dresses is usually the sleeves.”

“Then I guess it’s good that I completely destroyed mine,” Athena said, completely unashamed. Carina cringed.

Acidalia shook her head. “Not that type of sleeve. It’s the off-shoulder sleeves that are aggravating, because they make it impossible to raise your your arms fully, and if you rip them off, the bodice will slide down your front.” “At least flashing the enemy might distract them,” Athena remarked, and Acidalia laughed the same way a little girl would laugh after hearing something scandalous at a slumber party. How weird was that? Carina thought. This woman had admitted to smashing someone’s skull in—smashing multiple people’s skulls in—and the thought of anything remotely sexual was somehow stranger than that to her. Most people Carina knew had had sexual interactions with other people, but she didn’t know too many perpetrators of homicide.

But was Acidalia really a perpetrator of homicide? That made her sound like a criminal, and she was most definitely not a criminal—at least, not in the traditional sense. Most of her killings could probably be written off as justifiable self-defense; she didn’t seem like the type to take some sort of sadistic pleasure in stabbing people to death. Then again, you never really knew anyone, did you? Acidalia didn’t seem like the type of person who would willingly hang out with Andromeda, either.

Carina didn’t know how she felt about Andromeda. She seemed smart enough, and certainly powerful—her presence was just as imposing as Acidalia’s, if not more so. But there was a roughness, an edge to her, that gave Carina pause. The way she’d spoken about T’s death was so unnecessarily rude and dehumanizing, and the brash way she’d acted about dropping nuclear bombs on people who hadn’t even committed a crime was incredibly concerning. Even though they had only met once and never spoken, Carina got the feeling that Andromeda was the sort of person who thrived on violence—she didn’t exactly seem like a peace-seeker. But maybe peace-seeking wasn’t what warriors were supposed to do, anyway.

***

The journey to the landing site was only a few hours—it would have been much shorter if they weren’t actively trying to avoid detection—but thirty minutes in, Carina already felt like she was suffocating. The Revelation was just as huge as it had been on the way to Mars, but with this many angry, scared people packed inside, it felt so much smaller. Only Acidalia seemed calm, but even then it was difficult to tell if she was really as unaffected as she seemed; she was always so stoic that her emotions were completely unreadable.

As they flew over the starscrapers of Appalachia City, barely far away enough to avoid being seen from the ground, a wave of nausea hit Carina like a hovertrain. She swallowed hard, pushing it down into her chest where it seemed to curl up into a tight little ball of festering worry. For some strange reason, she almost wanted to tell Acidalia about it—Acidalia would know what to do. Acidalia knew everything. But Acidalia was busy studying some very official-looking books in the corner, the kind with gilded edges and embossed covers and paper made from real trees, and even if she wasn’t in a position where interrupting her felt unwise, she was still the Imperatrix Ceasarina. She was not the type of person Carina, or anyone, could really befriend.

Meanwhile, as Acidalia calmly flipped pages and wrote notes in the margins of elaborate books, the others argued and paced and stewed in a sea of barely-concealed, furious anxiety. Across the ship, David Seren and his daughter were engrossed in a screaming match, both insulting each other in Martian Anglicus Carina couldn’t even understand conversationally, while Athena looked on, entertained. Andromeda paced, dragging her one metal leg on the white floor with the strength of an ox, leaving scratches in the marble and looking angry—angry at the circumstances? Angry at herself? The expression on her face didn’t make Carina particularly eager to find out. Then there was Ace—poor Ace, who had lost a brother just as much as the Imperatrix had—who had disappeared with Lyra into a closet and slammed the door shut, barricading anyone from entering. Athena had cracked a joke about the implications, but Carina knew what they were doing in there—crying, mostly. Crying harder than Acidalia ever had or would, or slowly driving themselves mad with regret for what they’d lost.

Look at us, Carina thought. We sure make one hell of a team. A dethroned empress with the world’s worst mother, a Praetor with anger issues, two clueless Martians, two inexperienced Scientias, a Cantator who had stumbled into importance by accident, and a traumatized, depressed super-soldier whose only friend in the world had just died. They could barely even exist on the same starship together; how were they supposed to serve as a delegation? She understood why she and Athena were here—politicians or not, they were astrophysicists, and they had an innate knowledge of both the stars and the organisms that made their homes among them. The presence of the Martians and the Praetor could be justified, too, because they specialized in this type of thing—it wasn’t out of the question for appointed bureaucrats  and wartime leaders to meet with foreign ambassadors. But there was no reason to drag Lyra and Ace into this, especially not when they were so clearly upset. Did they even want to be here? Carina wondered. Some people chased danger like their lives depended on it, but most weren’t willing to throw themselves headfirst into war for the sake of an adrenaline high.  And now that T was dead, they couldn’t have been thinking rationally—they hadn’t been given any time to even process what had happened.

Nobody’s in a good mental state right now, Carina realized. She was terrified, and Athena probably was, too; she was just better at hiding it. The Serens had just effectively lost their home and all their “social points,” whatever those were. Acidalia and Ace and Lyra were all mourning, even if they didn’t show it. Andromeda was likely the most emotionally stable person on the whole Revelation, and she was a complete war hawk. How would they ever talk to the Mira? Acidalia would say something eloquent and political, then Andromeda would follow that up with something crass, and maybe the others would pop into the conversation to offer snippets of expertise, but half of them would be crying the whole time, and Cressida would still be on her phone, and David would stare awkwardly like a politician who didn’t know how to be a politician. And then the Mira would look at them and think really? This is who they sent? and that would be that and they’d be dead, and the war would be lost before it had even begun, and—

“You alright?” Athena asked, appearing behind Carina and making her jump about six feet.

“No,” she said truthfully, “I’m not. I’m scared to death, Athena.” “About what?” “About the nightmare aliens from outer space that have been at war with us for hundreds of years?! How are you not worried about this?” Her hands were shaky, her palms clammy, her voice higher than it normally was. She felt like she was breathing in helium, replacing all of the air in her lungs with squeaky-voiced nerves.

“We’re not dead yet,” Athena shrugged. “Besides, do you really think their ships are that scary looking?” “Well, I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen one before.” When they were younger, before they were able to do calculus and telemetry, she and Athena had been responsible for tracking Miran starships, but that job mostly involved pressing the tab key on a computer when the numbers on the spreadsheet changed a little too much. It was the most primitive form of tracking—they were just looking at stars and the things that obscured them, and if their light dipped too low when it wasn’t supposed to, the Scientias would mark it for review. It was boring work that never paid off; nearly every foreign body was a planet or a satellite or something else of that nature, and all the other changes in the light were sent off to more experienced people before Athena or Carina got to understand what it was.

“Well,” Athena said, “don’t look now, but I think there’s one behind us.”

“What?”

“Look.” Athena gripped her shoulders and spun her around, sending a cascade of sequins and glitter careening towards the floor and leaving a puddle of pure sparkle. How did Acidalia live like this? Carina thought briefly, before turning to the window. She couldn’t see anything other than a blinding white glow and the rays of light that reflected off the Appalachia City starscrapers.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” “Watch.” Athena fixed her steel-gray eyes on some invisible object before them, and Carina tried to do the same.

“I don’t see—“ she began, but then she did see, and something in her voice died. She stared up at the ship, a luminescent wall of blue that seemed more like a hovering water droplet than a spacecraft, and tried her hardest to conceptualize the fact that it was real. Fading in and out of her vision like a ghost, the ship didn’t appear very corporeal, but that was just the cloaking—underneath all that, it was as grounded in reality as the Revelation itself, despite its strangeness.

“It’s not what I expected,” Athena admitted, looking at the flickering wall of watery cerulean. “But I guess they’re aliens, so…?” “Yeah,” Carina said. “Aliens.” But, shockingly enough, she wasn’t as afraid as she thought she’d be; the ship looked more like a children’s toy than a military craft, and she couldn’t see any weapons anywhere. They were probably hidden—the Mira were anything but harmless, if they were strong enough to battle Eleutherians for hundreds of years—but they weren’t visible, and that was enough to reassure Carina that she probably wouldn’t be killed just for standing here. If they really meant business, they would have shown up in something more clearly dangerous… right? Acidalia looked up from the watercolored pages of one of her ancient books. “I suppose it’s time, then,” she said, with a deliberately final-sounding sort of calmness. In a massive movement of skirts and fabric, she stood, somehow elegantly staggering under the weight of her own swirling petticoats.

“Already?” Carina just barely squeaked out. “I guess it makes sense, but—“ “Scared?” Athena laughed. “Relax. They’re just, like, mermaids on crack or something.”

“Well, those ‘mermaids on crack’ managed to match us in war for centuries, so, yes, I’m a little nervous,” Carina snapped, flushing. Mermaids on crack was a hell of a way to describe a dangerous enemy, even if they were sparkly and blue. Acidalia looked at her sympathetically. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she said, clearly trying her hardest to be gentle and nice.

Carina bit her lip. She didn’t want to do this—this place was not her territory. She had no business being here to begin with, and she knew she’d never be able to add anything valuable to the conversation—at least, nothing as valuable as Acidalia would add. But she was also a relatively normal-looking girl who could maybe pass as a rich girl to an uninformed observer, and it’d be simple to masquerade as a noblewoman or a lady-in-waiting as long as she kept her mouth shut and didn’t say anything stupid. The alien ambassadors would doubtlessly be suspicious if Acidalia arrived without an entourage, and that would be bad—the Revolution couldn’t afford to make their leader seem illegitimate in the eyes of the enemy, even if she was a technically illegitimate royal. With a Martian companion, two soldiers, and a battery of ladies-in-in-waiting, Acidalia looked like an empress. Without all of that, she’d look like a fleeing princess ousted from her empire. And sure, Athena and Cressida and Lyra could probably make Acidalia look more legit, but would they really? Athena couldn’t even give a research presentation without cursing, and there was no way Cressida could get through a boring political meeting without checking something on her metadit.

“I’m coming,” Carina decided, trying not to look too afraid. If she was one of the first Eleutherians to peacefully speak to the Mira, she’d make history. And if she died… well, she hoped it was quick.