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ramblingguy54 · 3 years ago

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True Colors: An Emotionally Fantastic Serious Game Changer.

If we’re to look back at Reunion as Season 1′s dramatic pay off for Amphibia’s message of toxic friendships, as Anne & Sasha’s conflicting dynamic showed us, then True Colors is a colossal expansive note on this big theme of the series. True Colors makes Season 1′s finale look like a walk in the park for what angst goes down between our three main heroins in Season 2′s climatic resolution. Everything that can go wrong does go oh so painfully wrong for these three kids. Anne, to no one’s surprise, gets double crossed by Sasha leaving things between them a Hell of a lot more bitter than they were previously, as if that couldn’t already be topped when Sasha tried to kill the Plantars before. Anne has had enough of her lies and manipulation not being afraid to tell Sasha straight up how awful of a friend she’s been in general, even hitting her where it hurts most of all saying, “No, I’m done listening to you! I’m done trusting you! You’re a horrible person and I am done being FRIENDS with you!”, going so far as to get a shaken reaction out of Sasha dropping her brave face act, making this girl try to wipe away the frog family.

Right off the bat, True Colors makes it highly evident this isn’t just another story of stopping a bigger threat, but one hitting much closer to home, overall. Yes, King Andrias is certainly a dangerous villain, who makes his presence and intimidating nature known to the others by True Color’s final act, which despite this Amphibia isn’t entirely putting him at the forefront, rather focusing on a more intimate study of Anne, Sasha, and Marcy’s big emotional conflict. This finale knows exactly where to put its focus of importance on, so I love that instead of it being action packed we’re getting the spotlight shined on just how screwed up these three of a friendship have, in spite of Marcy claiming in The Dinner episode, “We’re supposed to be friends for life. We don’t split up!’ . Very ironic stuff right there, indeed.

True Colors’ most powerful strength it adds to Amphibia’s ongoing profound story about healthy friendships is the thorough deconstruction of these girls defined “ideal relationship” as people. Before Anne came to the world of Amphibia this kid was afraid to stand up for what she believed in, even knowing especially well that stealing the calamity box was morally questionable, but did it anyway. Sasha was super manipulative, abusive, and used her power to control people, like she did a lot of toward Anne in their lives. Marcy, while very smart, wasn’t the most competent physically, who soon grew into being more independent without needing to rely on Anne always having to be there for her. These three were changed immensely by the events of being thrust into this world of sentient amphibian creatures. Anne benefited morally most out out of all three in taking up the mantle of responsibility and ironing out her own issues. She’s become a much stronger person all around.

This episode asks us an important question though in nutshell with, “Have Sasha & Marcy truly changed for the better?”, since Anne has reached a point in her arc feeling genuinely content with who she’s become and the bonds that have been made with the Plantar family shown most notably with Sprig Plantar. Hence the whole purpose behind the song, It’s No Big Deal, with Anne feeling proud for who she is, yet not noticing a bigger issue right underneath her nose. That previous episode was meant to bring Anne’s happiness up only to bring it all crashing down in a devastating display of new revelations in True Colors. Every dramatic emotional beat isn’t just earned. Each significant moment is completely knocked out of the park by terrific voice acting, beautiful animation, and music composition that gave me serious emotional goosebumps. True Colors did exactly as Not What He Seems accomplished for Gravity Falls in shaking up its own respective dramatic stakes just when you thought it couldn’t get any higher for these protagonists. Shit seriously hits the fan here.

Did it ever occur to you, Anne? Sasha? That one of you knew more, than she was letting on? That ONE of you might’ve gotten you stranded in Amphibia on purpose...?

The big bombshell twist of Marcy playing a part too in getting them into this whole debacle completely flips everything upside down. Sasha pushed Anne into taking the Calamity Box, yes, but if Marcy never sent that photo because of her desire to stay with them together forever, then they wouldn’t have been stranded in basically a world full of dangerous creatures and who knows what else. Easily my favorite part of the episode, considering it adds more nuance to a situation that defined Amphibia’s story. It wasn’t just one person’s fault at the end of the day. Sasha bullied Anne into taking the box, Anne didn’t put her foot down to make a stand for something morally questionable, and Marcy took advantage of them both to benefit her own selfish desires for supposedly a “happy ending” not involving them staying apart, due to her parents moving away for a new job. All three girls played an important part on why they got landed into Amphiba. It’s why Anne’s statement to King Andrias, “The three of us may have made some mistake, but you...You’re evil and I’m gonna stop you!”, holds such a real weight to it, as this story continues to solidify how genuinely fleshed out their dynamic is.

Marcy’s super desperate plea to be understood by Anne & Sasha when Andrias revealed her getting them thrown into Amphibia purposefully was hard to watch. On one hand, I felt for Marcy because she didn’t want real life circumstances to tear apart that close connection she had to Sasha & Anne. Sure, she could’ve just kept in touch with them over the phone or chatting online, too. However, Marcy had known them since very early childhood. When you’ve been so attached to someone it can be a devastating thing, depending on just how vulnerable you are emotionally, to start drifting apart. Marcy represents that embodiment of toxic need for togetherness and couldn’t bear to let a possibility, like moving away, throw a wrench into her happiness and friendship, as well.

Never mind Marcy wanting to stay permanently in a different reality, rather than face her’s, but it made this person feel like something more. It gave her a chance to feel truly special in being able to live out a fantasy dream of having such power and freedom that a kid, like herself, couldn’t have had. The freedom to know she is plenty capable of making it out there on her own without Anne having to watch this kid like a hawk. So, to have someone, or something, try taking it away from her terrified Marcy of facing a terrible truth. That she isn’t strong enough after all to live a life without Anne & Sasha by her side completely, where Marcy will never feel truly worthy enough to blossom into her own person. It’s why that line, “I just...didn’t want to be alone...”, carries such a deep pain to it all. Marcy just crumbles into pieces accepting her greatest weakness. As much as Marcy fumbled the ball big time, it’s so easy to empathize with her on the idea of feeling competent enough. Marcy never meant to hurt Anne or Sasha, but the sad crushing punchline is she very much did.

Speaking of which, Anne had every right to be upset and mad, obviously. Anne has been missing so many things from her life before everything went off the wall. Hopping Mall especially highlighted Anne’s emotional desire to give anything just to hear her mother’s singing again. This teenager has been really dealing with a lot of grief in general quite honestly. Anne got into a high stakes battle against Sasha to save new friends, who’d practically became like an adopted family, which left the poor girl traumatized and heartbroken over the end result. She thought finding Marcy would help compensate for it and eventually be able to mend those complications with Sasha to boot. It’s simply painful to see it all blow up in Anne’s face to know not only Sasha betrayed her trust yet again, but realizing Marcy also played a part of responsibility in getting them thrown here. Matt Braly really just decided to slap future trust issues onto Anne finding out Hop Pop, Sasha, and Marcy were all super dishonest in their intentions at one point or another. Damn, I feel so bad for her.

It makes their embracing hug back in Marcy At The Gates so much harder to watch. Anne was super glad to see her again. Anne had wondered what became of Marcy or even possibly started to think she could even be alive at all. Then come to find out later on Marcy having intentionally ripped her away from a normal life must’ve felt worse then what happened with Sasha. Anne, already done with all of Sasha’s bullshit, thought she could at least expect better from Marcy not letting her down, but that too wasn’t the case. Marcy is very much as flawed as Sasha in what she has done. To think, Anne wanted so badly to get back home, yet she’s staring the very person dead in the eye, who ripped her away from it to begin with. Marcy knew Sasha would talk Anne into taking the box from that thrift shop, even if she wasn’t completely certain it would successfully teleport them away. Regardless of whatever good intentions someone can have in why they did what they did, it still doesn’t absolve them of said mistake. Fact of the matter is, Marcy tragically made her own bed, by choosing to mess with forces she couldn’t begin to comprehend and now has to face consequences, in spite of her not deserving them.

What really got to me was when Marcy tried to spin around Anne’s personal growth and close friendship with the Plantars as all entirely thanks to her. When she said, “I gave you this! I gave you everything!”, I was like, “Nope, that couldn’t be any further from the truth.”, seeing everything that has culminated in Anne’s journey of bettering herself. Marcy didn’t give Anne anything, but a one way ticket to cutting the kid off from her family, presuming she’d be fine with this idea. It’s all kinds of messed up, however what it boils down to is Marcy undermining Anne’s independence and agency. Anne’s moral judgement in decision making was what allowed her to create this new life she made for herself in Amphibia. Anne’s honesty as a whole led her down a path of togetherness, while Marcy’s lying landed her in a result of not wanting to be alone, costing her so much.

“I don’t believe this. We were so focused on each other we couldn’t see what was right in front of us!”

True Colors excels at earning each of its emotional beats because they line up with character motivations down to the last letter. Anne doesn’t want to trust Sasha anymore because of their already rocky past, which leads to her helping King Andrias regain control of his kingdom. Sasha not keeping a lid on her temper, wanting to rule over Amphibia, and trying to reinforce that power dynamic with Anne & Marcy only made things worse for her image of a changed good friend. There wasn’t a chance in Hell Anne would hear Sasha’s reasoning after she flat out tried to take away her frog family, by attempting to use the Calamity Box a bit ago in the episode. Marcy wanted to believe there was a happily ever after in seeing this world traveling idea as their only chance for salvation as friends for life, but it turned out to be something much more sinister, when learning of Andrias’ backstory and his true scumbag nature. All three of their motivations come clashing together, blinding them from a much bigger danger. Something that effectively puts everyone at stake.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale works so excellently, given it covers important dramatic elements it’s been stirring around since Season 1′s early rumblings. Amphibia is a story centered around people’s need for emotional connections. True Colors builds miraculously off what Reunion already did quite well in showing friendships can become rough and they are never easy to deal with. When you have to make a stand it can be a tough pill to swallow on the reality check of maybe this “good friend” of your’s isn’t as nice as you previously thought them to be. Anne having been hurt one too many times now by her former friend sends that message close to home, so much so even Sasha begins to question her morality as a human being. It poignantly encapsulates how this trio’s complex friendship is a serious growing issue needing to be reexamined, overall.

What if Anne’s right..? What if I am a horrible person...?

Something I absolutely love to pieces about True Colors, also a testament to Season 2′s darn good writing, is how much introspective we get from each character on what they’re feeling. We’ve seen plenty of Sasha’s vulnerability before in other episodes centered on her issues, but now we’re getting to the root of it. Sasha is really taking everything more to heart, little by little. Sasha’s understanding what kind of an effect she has on people, seeing the damage it has caused made evident by Percy and Braddock in Barrel’s Warhammer. Grime once told her, “Some dreams have a price and not everyone is willing to pay it.”, where she’s questioning that idealism every passing minute the invasion plan proceeds further into reaching success. Sasha isn’t sure what to do with herself anymore feeling aimless. Those previous episodes had a real impact on her priorities more than she cared to let on with Sasha’s typical tough girl act. This kid has let her guard down more, which scares and confuses Sasha. She’s always used to playing the role of protector it contradicts everything Sasha stands for when the roles are totally reversed because now Anne has made her feel the tremendous change in their growth as individuals.

Sasha’s lifestyle has been all about control that after somewhat learning to be more considerate to Anne & Marcy’s feelings she feels beyond conflicted about what truly matters to her. The most screwed up part of it all is Sasha didn’t want to fight anymore, taking up a pacifist approach after seeing what King Andrias had been hiding from everyone. It’s a fitting punishment for Sasha to try bringing Anne over to work together once more, but getting her pleas for companionship outright ignored. Anne was correct that Sasha had wasted all the chances to be reasonable. Boonchuy tried to hear out Sasha before at The Third Temple. One wanted to start things over again to iron out their serious issues, but the other was driven by bitterness, while only remorseful to a degree at best, of seeing their once weak friend become so independent, mature, and stronger that it drove her up wall. Sasha wanted to take away that “problem” being the Plantars, since in her eyes they’re the source of Anne’s strength, driving a wedge further between the two girls in their heated Reunion 2.0 battle.

True Colors demonstrates the horrific price of no trust, communication, nor teamwork from the three main girls that Andrias smoothly took advantage of, as if they were fiddles.

“That’s the thing about friends isn’t it? The more you love them, the more it hurts when they go.”

King Andrias is quite literally what I wanted Lunaris to be, where DuckTales’ Season 2 finale didn’t impress me on doing. He’s a serious big baddie to the main cast, who follows through on his threats of violence to demonstrate his wide array of arsenal and power. Andrias doesn’t just emotionally manipulate characters, like poor Marcy, but utterly crush them without an ounce of remorse for his actions. When he dropped Sprig out that window after Anne willingly let him have the Calamity Box back I thought they were legit gonna kill this boy off. The way Anne’s flashback montage of her good times with Sprig were eerily shot really didn’t help either on that note. Anne’s Calamity power finally activating is easily up there among stuff, like Dewey risking his life for Della’s disappearance in Last Crash, where the cinematography is shot and animated brilliantly. You feel Anne’s blind raging sadness in every hit she landed on those robots and Andrias. If anyone didn’t believe Sprig was like a little brother to Anne, then I dunno how anyone couldn’t view their bond anymore as such after this hugely defining scene. Anne went bloodthirsty when she believed Sprig to be dead further evidenced when she hugged him in relief afterwards exclaiming, “Sprig!? You’re alive!? Oh, thank goodness...”, which cuts deep so damn much.

Anne was ready to fight every one of Andrias’ troops in that castle to the death, if need be. Before Sprig came back from falling, thanks to Marcy’s quick acting, to comfort Anne, her only goal was to slaughter every opponent in that throne room, along with making Andrias pay dearly for even daring to lay a single finger on anyone of the Plantars. I’m not gonna lie, this pivotal power up reminded me so much Gohan turning Super Saiyan 2 after Cell curb stomped Android 16 into pieces with a smirk on his face. Anne Boonchuy’s maddening outburst is a classic testament to the idea of, “Piss off the nicest person and they’ll make it their mission to instill the biggest kind of fear/terror into you.”. showing this kid at her most vulnerable mental state, yet. Sprig & Anne’s cathartic embrace really messed me up in reinforcing just how these two respect, love, and would go above any of their limitations to help the other out. Sprig’s “death” scene was a masterful bait by the writers into making us think someone was gonna die and it was gonna be a poor kid, no less.

However, it was actually all just a bait and switch for the real, “Oh, shit. They really just did that”, moment with Marcy unexpectedly getting run through with Andrias’ gigantic sword. In a last ditch effort, Marcy wanted to atone for what she had a hand in getting them all into. Marcy was ironclad determined in making her own stand for what was right trying to save the people she endangered. Akin to what Sasha did in Reunion for saving Anne’s life, Marcy does the exact same here. Although, unfortunately this time, no one is here to protect Marcy from escaping death, like Grime catching Sasha from plummeting at Toad Tower. Marcy couldn’t react in time because she was so focused on helping her dear friends out. She wanted to prove to herself at least one time, “I’ve screwed up so much stuff with my friends. Maybe, just maybe. If I get my friends back home, it’ll prove I’m not an entirely crappy person for setting these events into motion.”. Marcy’s own deep seeded remorse is what saved Anne & the Plantars, while being the cause of her own untimely demise at Andrias’ hands.

This scene is what no doubt encouraged the warning sign for younger viewers Disney decided to make for them. It’s impressive how far Matt and his crew are willing to go for intense dramatic content. Andrias trying to crush Polly with his fist after destroying Frobo with casual ease, dropping Sprig out of the window from up sky high, and stabbing Marcy with his powerful sword displays his cold blooded brutality. Doesn’t matter who you are. If you get in the way of Andrias’ plans for multiverse domination, then he’ll throw anyone into their own grave, be it man, woman, or child. That’s the mark of a truly terrifying antagonist.

Andrias didn’t care who had to be hurt or manipulated to get back the box, so he could invade other worlds with Earth being his next prime target for invasion. Marcy’s fate is a horrifyingly poetic statement, since Sasha stated to Anne in a flashback from Marcy At The Gates, “One of these days, she’s gonna get herself killed.”, with True Colors tying back to this line in a disturbing manner. Something that sends chills down my spine is we get to see the full extent of how far Andrias shoved the sword through her body. We don’t just see the entry point of where it hit her, but it even zooms out to show the whole thing. Real talk, I got serious Avatar The Last Airbender vibes from this scene. Reminded me so much of Aang getting suddenly zapped with lightning by Azula when he tried to enter the Avatar state. Marcy didn’t want to be alone so badly she ended up inevitably dying alone trying to send Anne back home to their reality. One Hell of a way to close off Marcy’s last moments in Season 2, until her inevitable resurrection happens in Season 3 now that King Andrias has her in a tube tank that looks tied to his master.

True Colors ends on a deeply bittersweet cliffhanger leaving the fates of Sasha & Grime totally unknown if they’ll get away by the skin of their teeth, or get captured by Andrias’ soldiers and robots. Anne finally returned home with the Plantars, but at a deadly cost of leaving her other close friends behind in Amphibia. After all the isolation, heartbreak, and endurance she went through with her frog family Anne finds herself at a total loss for words. Once again, Anne is in a state of solitude of not knowing if her friends are really okay or not, mirroring the start of Season 1 when she landed into Amphibia’s world. It’s safe to say to say that, “Finally me and it’s no big deal.”, lyrics have aged terribly for Anne’s realization of finding her own identity came at the expense of getting separated from friends she’s known since kindergarten. Definitely see Anne becoming a lot more protective of the Plantars now more than ever after watching Marcy drop to the ground from being stabbed in front of her eyes.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale is exactly how you capitalize on a winning story telling formula of dramatic writing, lovable characters with layered depth, and increasing the stakes of your story in an organic manner. True Colors is a finale that should be talked about for a long time to come, as it not only showed how worth the wait it was, but reinforces why Amphibia is a truly great series. It’s unafraid to take its characters to dark places in a way that feels totally earned.

Amphibia Season 2 is everything a sequel to a first film should be.

#amphibia true colors #amphibia spoilers #amphibia season 2 #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #sasha waybright #sprig plantar #polly plantar #hop pop plantar

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songtoyou · 4 years ago

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Tempting Fate - Part Two

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major, but there is lots of smoking.

Word Count: 2,080

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

Chapter Summary: As you continue to live in Small Heath, you develop a strong camaraderie amongst its residents. The only one who continues to give you the cold shoulder is Mr. Tommy Shelby. Polly has a conversation with you and her nephew. She seems to know more than she may be letting on about the connection you and Tommy may have.

A/N: For this story, Esme uses her maiden name and married name, so she goes by Esme Lee-Shelby. This story takes place during season two of the show. May Carleton is mentioned in this chapter and might be making an appearance in later chapters. I like May; she has never bothered me, and I like her “relationship” with Tommy. I did include a Romani phrase in this chapter, which translates to, “Go with God and in good health.” I found the phrase online and hope it is correct. If it isn’t, then I am profoundly sorry and do not wish to offend anyone. That is never my intent. Remember, there is no Grace or Greta in this fic. They do not exist in the realm of this alternate universe.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars

You settled into Small Heath nicely, even making some friends along the way. Esme Lee-Shelby was one of those friends. When the two of you met, there was an instant connection. Both reminded the other of home, which helped with the homesickness both women tended to feel now and then. Being friends with Esme meant you were around the other Shelby’s, particularly at the family’s company headquarters. You most hung around the betting shop when it was not too busy and when Tommy was not around. You were not naïve to see that the man was not too fond of you for some reason.

Arthur and John would tell you not to pay too much mind to Tommy and explain that he was under a lot of stress.

“Tommy means well, love. He will come around eventually,” John reassured you one day while visiting Esme.

“It is because he likes you, and that probably scares him,” Esme would say, but you merely scoffed at the idea.

“I can admit that Tommy is cute, but he is not my type. He is too frigid. The guy is always so serious. Plus, I can tell he cannot stand the sight of me,” you replied, but Esme waved off your concerns.

“Trust me, Tommy will eventually come around to the point where he will seek out your presence because he will crave it. I have a feeling about it, and I’m never wrong,” assured Esme.

On another day at the betting shop, you stopped by; however, no one was around except for Aunt Polly. At first, the woman intimidated the hell out of you but soon saw the wonderfulness she possessed. She did not take shit from anyone, particularly the men who stopped by the betting shop. She kept everyone in line, including her nephews. You saw how Tommy would confide in Polly on specific business matters whenever the two murmured amongst each other.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, looking around the empty betting shop.

“Slow day,” Polly said, taking a sip of tea and reading a book with her feet up on one of the desks. “John and Esme are currently preoccupied with activities involving the expansion of their family if you know what I mean.”

“Well, that is…wonderful,” you stated sarcastically. “Will you tell Esme I stopped by and that I will see her tonight at The Garrison?”

Before you could leave, Polly called out to you to stay for a little while.

“Come sit with me, let’s talk,” Polly commanded and pointed to a seat for you to take.

You followed her orders and took a seat across from the older woman. She passed you one of her black cigarettes, and you happily accepted. The nicotine of the black cigarette had a pleasant taste to it, you noted.

“So, Tommy informs me that you are part of the Young clan in Cambridgeshire. I’ve met the Youngs; they are good people. Very dependable when one needs help. However, my nephew also shared that you aren’t a Young by blood, is that right?” Polly questioned the other woman.

“That is correct. My mother and father found me when I was a baby, so I am very much a Young,” you replied earnestly.

“Oh, that I can see. Especially in how you have taken it upon yourself to help out most of the Small Heath residents. From menial tasks such as making sure Ms. Wallace gets her weekly groceries, to assisting Old Man Pete and his family in finding their lost dog, and even going so far as to help out at the Yard with Charlie and Curly.”

“I only help with horses. I don’t do any of the moving of equipment or anything if that is what you or Tommy are worried about,” you reassured Polly.

“I wasn’t worried, but of course, Tommy was. You put him on edge,” said Polly with a smirk.

You took another drag of the cigarette, “That is not my fault that your nephew has his qualms about my mere presence in this place. All I am doing is trying to make a living, like everyone else. He has no reasons to doubt my intentions. I am not here to bewitch anyone or partake in any criminal activity that would undermine the Peaky Blinders. I may not have a proper education, but I am not stupid. I don’t have a death wish.”

“No, you don’t have a death wish. You have good intentions that Tommy will see that eventually. He always comes around. Someday, he will come to you because he will need your help,” shared Polly. “I can see things, my dear. I have the gift. I know why you are here. You are looking for your soulmate. Is that correct?”

You let out a sigh, “It is one of the reasons why I am here, yes. I only want to know who this man is; I don’t expect to fall for him. The idea of soulmates doesn’t ring true for me. It is a fabled concept.”

Polly let out a laugh, “Do not be so pessimistic, my girl. You have already met him, but I will let you figure out who it is; that is the fun part.”

As you were about to ask Polly for clarification on what she was talking about, in walked Tommy and stopped when he saw the two of you sitting together.

“Speaking of the devil, here he is, the man of the hour,” teased Polly, at least that is what you thought she was doing. She gave you a wink and put out her cigarette.

“Miss Young,” Tommy stiffly greeted you.

“Mr. Shelby, nice to see you.” While you may tend to put Tommy on edge, he did the same to you, but you were determined to make friends with the man.

When Tommy didn’t reply to your polite phrase, you knew it was your time to leave the premises. “Thank you for the cigarette and the chat, Polly.”

“Any time, dear,” Polly smiled and waved as you exited the betting shop. She saw that you did not say goodbye to Tommy, which she could not blame you.

While Tommy took off his cap and coat, Polly got up from the table and lightly smacked the back of the head. The move completely caught Tommy by surprise as he turned to face his aunt.

“What the hell, Pol!” yelled Tommy, perplexed.

Polly merely shook her head. “Do not have any manners, Thomas?”

“What are you on about?”

With a shake of her head, Polly grabbed her teacup and took a sip. The tea was long since cold. “She is a nice girl, Tommy. Why can’t you see that when everyone else can? What is it about his girl that has you so afraid?”

Lighting his cigarette, Tommy let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Everywhere he turned, he saw you. Not only at The Garrison, Uncle Charlie’s Yard, or the streets of Small Heath, he saw you in his dreams. The dreams where you were present brought him peace. He felt protected, which unnerved him since he was not used to the feeling of being safe, not after France.

“She’s me, Pol,” answered Tommy.

“What do you mean she is you, Tom?”

“Before the war. She was exactly how I was before everything changed,” Tommy replied honestly.

“Well, that should be viewed as a good thing. You two match. Why so cold towards this girl?” Polly asked again.

Tommy turned towards his aunt to bluntly say, “Because if I get close to her, then I will ruin her. I don’t think I could live with myself with that thought. I’m damaged goods, Pol. Nothing can save me. No one can save me.”

“Tommy, that is not true,” remarked Polly. “I still see the good in you.”

Tommy got up and headed towards his office, “Then you are wasting your time.”

Later that night at The Garrison, you were filling up drinks and talking to your regular patrons.

Noting was too out of the ordinary, except for the absence of the Shelby brothers. Typically, they would make an appearance, but not tonight.

“Harry, since it is rather slow tonight, do you mind if I head out early?” you asked.

“Sure, no problem, but do you mind coming in early?” Harry asked, which you agreed to do.

You waved goodbye to Harry and left the premises. You bundled your coat higher to offset the cold air and walked towards Charlie’s Yard. Curly mentioned they were getting a new horse for the races, and you wanted to see it. You loved horses, always have since you were a kid.

As you walked down the street, you saw the Shelby brothers exiting the betting shop.

Arthur called out your name, and you turned around to greet him. He asked where you were headed to and answered the Yard. When all three gave you a look, you told them that you wanted to see the new horse Curly kept boasting on about and, therefore, needed to see for yourself.

“I have to see for myself,” you commented.

Before John and Arthur were about to wave goodbye, Tommy spoke up, “I’ll walk you.”

His announcement took his brothers and you by surprise. “Come again?” you asked. You wanted to make sure you heard him correctly.

“I said I’d walk you to Charlie’s.”

Before you could as Tommy ‘why’ he told his brothers, he would see them later and motioned for you to follow him. The walk to the Yard was quiet, with neither knowing if they should saying anything. Both opted that awkward quietness was probably the best outcome.

You bit the bullet as the quietness was beginning to drive you mad and spoke up. “Where did you find this horse? Curly mentioned you were going to train him for the races.”

“I got him at an auction, and I won’t be training him. I enlisted someone else to do the training to get him the horse ready for Epsom,” explained Tommy, lighting a cigarette. He offered you one as well, but you declined.

Finally arriving at the Yard, you continued to follow Tommy towards where the horse was residing. When you caught sight of the dapple-gray horse, you immediately picked up your speed to get a better look.

“He is beautiful, Curly,” you professed while rubbing your hand across its muzzle. The horse responded positively to you as it licked your hand. “Does he have a name?”

“No name, as of yet,” it was Tommy who spoke up to answer you. While you continued to pet the horse, Tommy quietly stood next to you. He reached over and began stroking the horse’s mane.

“May Carleton is expecting us to bring the horse for her to train in the coming days ahead, we need to get him ready for transport, Charlie,” declared Tommy while continuing to pet the horse. He then walked over to his uncle as the two men began to talk about how to transport the horse.

“It is a shame this horse has to leave,” you said to Curly, who quickly agreed.

When Charlie called Curly over to him, it left you alone with the horse. As you continued to pet the horse’s muzzle, slowly and softly, you placed your head against his, with no objection. The horse remained calm in your presence.

“Zhan le Devlesa tai sastimasa,” you whispered to the horse.

“Go with God and in good health,” translated Tommy as he stood next to the horse once again. “He’ll be fine, Ms. Young. This horse is going to be taken care of; I will make sure of that, I promise.”

You looked over at Tommy and smiled at him, “Oh, I know, Mr. Shelby. Pyramus knows you will make sure he is in good hands.”

“Pyramus?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s his name. Pyramus. It is a mythological name meaning ‘fire.’ It fits him perfectly, don’t you think?”

At that moment, Tommy was taken back by your attentiveness of his horse. He was impressed by how you showed so much care for the creature. He saw how your smile brightened your face and appeared to stir something inside of himself. Something he thought was long gone, his heart.

“Yes, it is. Perfect,” Tommy expressed, but he was no longer talking about the horse.

It was at that moment, where Tommy knew he wanted you.

#tommy shleby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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willel · 3 years ago

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1986

Decided to look up some interesting events that took place in 1986 to see what they might reference.

I think people say this season will be taking place April-May 1986, so I won't look much into anything after that.

Thousands of people join hands in the desert near Phoenix, Arizona, May 25, 1986, as part of the Hands Across America campaign.

If you've seen Jordan Peele's movie US, this was referenced quite a lot. It was a fundraising event to fight poverty and hunger. I am a 90's kid so I don't know how significant this was for the country, but even my mom remembers it so maybe it was important. It might be a little too late to reference in the season though.

The crew of the Space Shuttle Challenger mission 51L. All seven members of the crew were killed when the shuttle exploded during launch on January 28, 1986.

The infamous Challenger disaster happened earlier that year... What a horrible tragedy. I know for sure someone like Will and Dustin would've been interested in that. Right? I wonder if they were watching when it happened. How scaring.

It's been like, 30 years since it happened. Do you think it's too soon to use in the plot of Stranger Things/sci-fi stories in general?

The televangelists Jim And Tammy Faye Bakker are shown talking to their television audience at their PTL Ministry in Fort Mill, South Carolina.

What a coincidence. I've been learning a lot about these two people lately. Firstly, Jim Bakker is an asshat. Secondly, Tammy Faye, despite all the scandals and misfortunes, was I think the first person to have an AIDS patient on her program for an interview. He wasn't allowed in the building, partially because he was recovering from surgery, but also everyone was afraid to even touch him. She was apparently very kind and advocated for LGBT people and other "misfits" in society.

If you're younger and don't know about it... back then, people thought (normal people not scientist) AIDS could be transmitted just by being in the same room as someone basically. It was new and everyone was terrified. It's basically the opposite of the COVID situation.

The government was completely ignoring the AIDS pandemic, even as thousands and thousands of people died. It wasn't "their problem" because at the time it seemed like only LGBT people were dying from it (that wasn't the case even though they were heavily affected by it. Like, massively). It was a terrible time.

Anyway, back to the point. Being religious, televangelist, all that stuff was EXTREMELY prevalent around this time. We joke about the Santanic Panic in hindsight, but it was real, ridiculous, and lead to all kind of injustices.

A masked demonstrator aims a slingshot at riot police behind fence during violent demonstration at the site of a nuclear waste reprocessing plant when about 10,000 demonstrators protested against the use of nuclear energy at Wackersdorf, West Germany, on May 19, 1986.

This is happening across the world, but an interesting situation. Chernobyl just happened like a month before this. I bet there were protests against nuclear energy all across the world. In a recent theory I kinda compared the Upside Down to what people thought would happen during the Cold War, a nuclear wasteland.

Several space probes fly-by Halley’s Comet in March of 1986.

Ah, another space related event. Once again, I feel like our nerds would've been paying attention to this maybe. It's relevance? I dunno. Maybe it dropped off an alien as it passed by.

The Soviet Union launches the core unit of the Mir Space Station into Earth’s orbit in February of 1986. Mir was the largest space station ever created at that point in time and between 1987 and 1996 five expansion modules were added to the core unit.

Interesting. ANOTHER space related event, this time to do with the Soviet Union. They launched a space station huh? Hm... I'm pretty sure the US and the Soviet Union were still in an arms race around now. But were US astronauts allowed to board the station? Let's find out!!!

.... searching ....

The answer appears to be yes, after some you know. Politics. But eventually science and curiosity brought them to an agreement. In the 90's.

========================

That's about it! I mean, a crap ton of other political stuff is happening around the world at this time, but I'm not gonna get into that mess.

#stranger things

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capricornlibraries · 3 years ago

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4 years and a hell of a lot of heartache

“This is what I thought I thought you'd need me This is what I thought so think me naive I'd promise you a heart you'd promise to keep Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep” (“Prelude 12/21” by AFI)

The anniversary of the day she left this world has come and gone for the fourth year in a row. Her absence no longer brings me sadness, but the thought of all she has and will miss does. My growth as well as everyone else’s has been so amazing these past few years. Sadly, I don’t think, if she was still here, that that growth would be as admirable. I think it’s the appreciation for the growth. A certain embrace of life that only happens following the death of someone close. I see death as more of a blessing than a curse. It starts out in a devastating way, but much like fire, there’s a following rebirth. There’s a reason Uranus follows Saturn. “How beautiful… the agony in the moment of destruction” (Sailor Saturn, Sailor Moon, vol. 8).

The day she died was a new moon. This year it’s full, in the sign of Aquarius, the water-bearer she was born under. Pluto cozied up with my Venus, Neptune winked at my own in 13 degrees, and Saturn hit my 3rd house cusp going backwards. The day of her deathiversary, the moon peaked full right where her natal Saturn nestled in her chart. How saturnine.

How strange it was that we both owned Saturn cars, hers white, mine black. She an Aquarius with her Saturn in Aquarius, me a Capricorn with my Saturn in Capricorn. When she died, my sun began its progress into Aquarius. The beginning of my Saturn return would soon follow. In the following Aquarius season, my journey into seriously studying astrology began, and so did the reclamation of my life.

I loved her so much that I would have taken a bullet for her. But that passion wasn’t returned and therefore unhealthy. She wanted me to love her for so long, but as soon as I was ready to commit to those feelings, she rejected me. I’ve matured enough to understand that we were both just queer, neurodivergent children in high school exploring ideas of sex and love through the lens of puberty and the closet in a world where we were outcasted. At the time though, I felt so scathed, that I was simultaneously angry and heartbroken. Angry enough to live a life through spite, depressed enough to die from a broken heart. It hurt so much to see she didn’t need me, and she didn’t want me. I listened to Pink’s So What on repeat. I dived into fandom to keep my thoughts occupied. She haunted my dreams every night for a year and a half. She still makes appearances in them even now.

Honestly, there is still a lot of anger, but there’s more sorrow and repentance. I’ve done shadow work to see where in our relationship I was toxic. I was overcontrolling, overbearing, and could be quite cold. I wish I could tell her I’m sorry for how I was, but I wonder if she would have ever done the same for me. She only ever apologized when she felt cornered. She lied to me a lot and gaslit me when I would figure out what she fibbed about. It would get to a point that I would have to provide scrupulous amounts of evidence, but then that’s when she would say the reason she didn’t ever tell me the truth was because she was afraid of my reaction, then later, accusing me of implying she couldn’t do anything right. At one point after the heartbreak, we talked to each other, and I had thought she had said sorry to me, but then ghosted me after that interaction. Months later, my friend had ran into her and she had mentioned me. My friend mentioned how she didn’t talk to me after she apologized to me, to which she replied “I didn’t apologize because I had nothing to be sorry for.” So I feel like even if I could apologize to her, face to face, or through text now, that she would have accepted it but would have returned no apology, and in fact, would have used mine as her high horse, leaving me to think it was all my fault in the end, instead of a combined effort of miscommunication and teenage angst.

Her death placed her on a pedestal amongst her friends. They’ve all been so devastated from her loss, understandably, but in such a way that all they remember was the good and none of the bad. She backstabbed a lot of people throughout the years; she could be pretty two-faced when it needed to benefit her. And maybe that’s just how people approach death. They only want to remember the good. But it’s difficult for me, when she caused me so much pain, to only ever hear about how wonderful she was. I feel like a recently divorced, ex Mormon who had to leave an abusive relationship with all the calamity from church goers insisting that they’re betraying god. I know that they all loved her, hell I did too, fiercely, but she also hurt me, and I am so tired of having to keep that part of me locked away because it’s a version of her that doesn’t fit the narrative everyone has made of her. She already made me seem like the toxic one ever since we broke up in high school, and now I feel like, if I were to speak my truth, I would face only backlash and accusations that I am lying, seeking attention, and playing the victim.

For three years, from about 8th to 11th grade, we resided in our imaginations in a fantasy world we had created together with up to 100 characters, different planets, and enmeshed relationships. We filled notebooks and email inboxes of roleplays back and forth to each other, as well as getting together before school, at lunch, and after school speaking the roleplays out loud to one another. This was how we communicated our feelings to each other, getting lost in emotions as we went from intense plots to slice of life storylines. If only I could share our expansive world to everyone, they would see how beautiful our creation was… but every time I try to write those stories, I find myself lost, wishing she could assist. She was my muse, another part of me, and I loved her with every fiber of my being for so long. But I also hated her because of the power she held over me, the way she left me behind to fend for myself as she rebuilt her life without me so easily. I still feel like I am easy to throw away, and it disrupts all my relationships to this day. I will try to get close but then shy away, feeling like people are better off without me. For others, she was the light of their lives and now they can’t face the darkness she has left behind. For me, she was pain and suffering, and I had fallen in love with the darkness.

So I use this full moon to release these pent up feelings, emotions that ran deep from her death on the Leo new moon 4 years ago. I have since then faced some of the darkest parts of myself and embraced them, dived into myself to reach a hand out to my inner child who I am still learning to soothe and let their voice be heard. I want to be able to speak my truth without feeling afraid. I want to be taken seriously, seen as someone who is capable and smart. I am a great friend who didn’t deserve to be thrown away; I deserved compassion and understanding in my weakest moments. The person she left in senior year of high school deserves to have their voice and story heard, even if it’s years later, and she is gone. I release the anger, the pain, and the sorrow. I embrace loving myself and speaking my truth. I loved her, but I also hated her, and both those parts of me deserve recognition and compassion. I know my worth now. I am worthy, I am loved, I am wonderful. I am a light in people’s lives; I have faced my darkness so I no longer need to see myself as only a shadow; I am both the shadow and the light. I may be saturnine, but I have Jupiter in Leo in my 10th house. The expansive, abundant planet in the sign of creativity and generosity shines above me, as I hold Saturn close to my chest. Maybe Saturn appears first, but don’t be afraid, because Jupiter lights the way towards bigger and better things.

#my thoughts #full moon in aquarius #a dose of sadness a heap of anger #i am beginning to move on #i deserve to be happy i am worthy i am loved

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marnie-mouse · 3 years ago

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Hey this is random and I don't want to bother you but I'm kinda new to the nhl fandom and I really like your blog! I was hoping to get some pointers on how to get more into the fandom, learn the basics/history, etc and you seem to know a lot :)

Hello, absolutely no problem, and thank you!

Welcome to the NHL and NHL Tumblr! It's kind of hectic around here, especially during the playoffs, expansion drafts, and trade season, but I'm so glad that you're here!

So when I started liking hockey and getting into the NHL fandom, it was really important for me to find like-minded blogs because there can be discourse that feels a bit discouraging if you don't have places that you can find comfort in. If you've found a few blogs of your team(s) that you like, I would for sure go into their search and make sure that they don't have anything from previous posts that feel off to you. It's never fun to get the surprise of liking a blog and suddenly having vitriol on your feed that you weren't prepared for.

The first thing I did when joining the fandom was to learn everything I could about hockey, if you already have that under your belt, great! It's super helpful when talking to other fans to be accurate because a lot of people who are into sports are very particular about sports knowledge. For the most part, and I'm generalizing, it really doesn't matter, and they won't gatekeep you from having an enjoyable time because we all just really want to talk about how much we love our favs, but sometimes it sucks because people ask you to prove yourself. I usually just ignore those people, because like I said the vast majority don't care, but it's also good to have confidence in your opinions and knowing what you're talking about so no misinformation is happening. If you don't know a lot about hockey, I would look up the rules and watch a few games to immerse yourself, and it also helps to follow the hockey journalist and team accounts on Twitter for updates on players, trades, and anything happening in the NHL world.

Depending on which team or teams or individual players that you like, there are literally endless blogs that you can find on Tumblr to cater to you. I'm mainly a Hawks blog, so my favs, and the least dramatic blogs that I follow are @kikiskeysgame who has info about players and does breakdowns before and after games and @allthebros who has a lot of Toews/Kane posts and awesome GIFS from games and events. Every team has some incredible people like this who are really fun to follow, so just check out the team and player tags and you should be able to find some people to watch. A lot of blogs also do live blogging for games, so watch out for those too!

Like I said before, it might feel like a ton of people are gatekeeping if you are new to the blog scene, but it's really just a small percentage that are really loud. So if you like multiple teams/players on different teams, please do not be afraid to post about anything and everything that you love! I guarantee there are other blogs on here that share your passion.

As for the history of the fandom, I would say it doesn't really matter if you know what has gone on because, as you probably know, the rivalries on the teams usually carry over. So Philly/Pitts has beef, Van/Chi has beef, Pitts/Wash has beef, etc. and usually so do their fans. Sometimes that's not true, and that should totally not stop you from liking both sides. You're allowed to like what and whoever you like, and screw anyone who says you can't. Also if there's a reference to anything from a blog that doesn't make any sense, don't be afraid to ask, we are all more than happy to have asks to answer!

What else... Um, drama is usually over pretty quick, if someone says that a player is problematic do your own research because people can be bias, if your team is out of the playoffs or doesn't make it in that year people will post sad things that make it seem like they'll never get in again, but that isn't true, and even though players move teams, especially if they move to teams that your mutuals don't like, that doesn't mean you have to stop liking them, they're just being dramatic. The All Star games don't matter, but everyone seems to have fun. Everyone 'boos' Gary Bettmen at the draft, the cup presentation, and pretty much anytime we see him. You can usually find someone on here that has a link to stream the games if you don't have access. And truly, off-season on Tumblr is just a bunch of players looking dumb and having fun, and everyone goes crazy for summer pics, stories, babies, and weddings.

Also, it costs nothing to be nice, and I feel like that's something a lot of people forget when they're in a blog space, but it's important to remember that.

I think my final and most important piece of advice is love the time that you have, the teams that you love, and the players that you can because they don't stay there forever. The players leave consistently, the teams change all the time, and time seems to speed up without you noticing because truly it is incredibly fun, and that always seems to make time go faster.

If I didn't answer any of the questions that you have, in this novel-esque answer, or you would like to chat or know more, please do not hesitate to ask, I am always available, and I love to talk about hockey!

Thank you again, and welcome home!

#nhl hockey #hockey tumblr #asked and answered

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doomedandstoned · 4 years ago

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Spelljammer Reveal Trippy New Vid, Talk ‘Abyssal Trip’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

Interview by Billy Goate

Cover Art by Aaron Cahill

Our week of big interviews continues as we meet up with the ethereal doom outfit from Stockholm SPELLJAMMER and premiere a new music video, from their just released second LP, dropped only weeks ago on RidingEasy Records and now the number one album on the Doom Charts.

'Abyssal Trip' (2021) is an enthralling listen from edge to center, with lavish textures, deep thematic content, and unforgettably emotive atmosphere that will stick with you for life. Enjoy it as you read the revealing conversation with Niklas Olsson (guitar, vox) and Robert Sörling (guitar) that follows as we unpack their steller new spin, talk nerdy gear shit, and contemplate humanity's fate.

And now, Doomed & Stoned is pleased to bring you the world premiere of the brand new video for that epic third track, "Among The Holy."

Give ear...

Spelljammer - Among The Holy (music video)

You guys have been a band now for damn near 15 years, maybe longer. Most bands don't make it past two years! What is the "key" to the band staying together for so long and continuing to find inspiration for creating new music?

Rob: I don’t think it’s been 15 years just yet but we are getting there, haha. None the less - that’s a really interesting question! Nik and I started the band much because we share the same taste in music, film and, well, art in general. I think that's the core keeping it all together. Also, there have been a few constellations of band members over the years, all with their own dynamic. I think these kinds of changes, and the new directions of the music because of that, is part of the inspiration. Maybe another reason is that we all live in different cities and because of that sometimes a lot of time passes between rehearsals, writing sessions and such, making us always craving for new Spelljammer jams and songs.

Nik: The craving yes. And another reason I think is the fact that we’ve never really been in a rush to get anywhere. Anything Spelljammer, the music included, takes time. If we had been set on making it, this thing probably would have fallen apart a long time ago.

Abyssal Trip by Spelljammer

How did the theme for Abyssal Trip originate?

Nik: I have always been more drawn to the feelings or emotions you get from a riff or piece of music than to any theme of a lyric. But I would say that any themes came in at the lyrics state, which is at the end of the process. But the themes aren’t that specific to any of the albums. I think I cast a pretty wide net in the beginning and stuck to it. For the next album perhaps we will venture more into unchartered waters. We’ll see.

What fascinates you about the Great Abyss of the ocean?

Nik: I totally get that the word abyss conjures up images of ocean trenches and, yes, the ocean is a fascinating and to a large extent undiscovered place. However, when I wrote that I wasn’t necessarily thinking of the ocean but more the abyss of our own minds. But I think it’s a word that evokes many things, like despair and doom, and it is of course totally open to interpretation.

Is mankind doomed or do we have time to correct our course?

Nik: I’m not as pessimistic of a person as the lyrics may suggest. I think we will be here on earth for a long time. Mankind is clever (perhaps too clever for her own good) even if there are a lot of people hell-bent on trying to screw up everything for everybody else.

Rob: Yes, and considering how ignorant and careless (some) people are acting during this pandemic, at least over here, makes you wonder if there’s any hope at all.

Nik: People are the worst. Ultimately, though, none of it matters because we’re all doomed.

Have you guys seen any good movies/documentaries or read any good books lately that inspired you or otherwise challenged your thinking about life, the present, or the future?

Rob: I can’t say that I’ve seen or read anything recently that challenged me significantly, I guess I’m getting too old to be that overwhelmed haha. The film A Ghost Story though was kind of cool though because it was different, slow and weird (in a good way), and for me it’s always inspiring to read/see/hear something that makes you think, "Man, I wish I had come up with that idea”.

Nik: Absolutely! Punch Drunk Love, Moon, and Office Space are definitely movies like that. I have watched so many movies and series through this pandemic and I can’t remember any of them right now. But I did just notice that there is a season 3 of Loudermilk on HBO! If you haven’t already, see it! I’m currently reading "Homeward Bound, The Life of Paul Simon” by Peter Ames Carlin. It’s a good read about one of my favorite musicians.

For recording this album, what kind of gear did you use and what production/engineering considerations did you have to take into account?

Rob: Since we did a remote recording in the countryside we had to use whatever stuff that we could fit into a couple of cars. I have a couple of old audio interfaces that I linked for a total of 16 channels. I also have a small collection of mics (nothing fancy) and we used them all and the rest was borrowed. We set up the drums in the living room and put the guitar and bass rigs as far away as we could (the adjacent rooms) to avoid bleed and just focused on getting the rhythm tracks done. The goal was to get us all in the same room and to catch the vibe from a relaxed rehearsal kind of situation. The bass rig used was a Orange Terror Bass and an Ampeg SVT 810 and the guitar was tracked through a Reval Mark I and/or Orange TH-100 and a Orange PPC 412. Of course there’s always some unforeseen problem lurking and this time it was the electricity in the old country house.

Nik: I don’t use many effects, just a fuzz. For this one I used a Supercollider from Earthbound Audio. It is exactly what the name suggests. That’s all you need really.

The album cover is amazing! It reminds me, in some strange way, of the creature in the old B-movie Robot Monster (1953). What's the story behind the artwork?

Nik: It definitely has a B-movie vibe that I really like. I’m afraid I can’t really tell you much about it other than the artist name is Aaron Cahill and you can find his stuff on Instagram under the name nghbrs.

I filmed your first US appearance at Psycho Las Vegas in 2016. Fans want to know: do you have ambitions of returning to North America once the world sorts out this pandemic?

Rob: Yes, that’s our first and only US appearance so far and we wouldn’t mind at all returning to Vegas or any other part of the US. For now it’s really hard making any plans at all. In fact, you would think that this kind of isolation would enhance creativity, and maybe for some it does, but for us it’s actually been the most unproductive period so far for Spelljammer. So I’m hoping that by the time this thing blows over we get the inspiration back both for writing/recording new music, and in time hopefully revisiting the US!

Nik: I agree, playing at Psycho Las Vegas was a blast. I hope we get another opportunity to come back some day.

Spelljammer at Psycho Las Vegas/a>

Some Buzz

“The vastness of everything is something that I think about a lot,” says Spelljammer bassist/vocalist Niklas Olsson. And it certainly shows in both the expansive, sludgy sounds and contemplative lyrics of the Stockholm, Sweden based trio. Following a 5-year break between their previous album, Ancient of Days — perhaps fittingly spent pondering said vastness — Spelljammer is back with an album that perfectly bridges the band’s earlier desert rock leanings and their later massive, slow-burning riffs.

'Abyssal Trip' (note: carefully reread that album title) takes its moniker from the perpetually dark, cold, oxygen-free zone at the bottom of the ocean. The 6-song, 44-minute album fittingly embodies that bleak realm with rumbling, oozing guitars intercut with dramatic melodic interludes. The songs take their time to unfurl, making them even more hypnotic. Likewise, the lyrics take a poetic approach to establishing the sonic scenery.

“The lyrical themes we address, like the ultimate doom of man, and the search and longing for new and better worlds, are still there,” Olsson says. “The concept of something undiscovered out there in vast emptiness is pretty much always present.”

The recording process for Abyssal Trip differs from previous releases in that the band — guitarist Robert Sörling, drummer Jonatan Rimsbo and Olsson — opted to capture the performances while holed up in the mental bathysphere of a house in the countryside near Stockholm. “The songs benefitted from the relaxed environment of being away from everything,” Olsson explains. Indeed, the album sounds confident and meticulously arranged, afforded by the band’s isolation. Sörling mixed the album and it was mastered by Monolord drummer Esben Willems at Berserk Audio.

Album opener “Bellwether” begins dramatically with a very slow, nearly minute-long fade in of rumbling distortion setting the stage for heavily distorted bass and guitar plucking out the lugubrious riff for another minute and a half before the drums begin, and likewise equally as long before vocals gurgle to the surface. “Lake” abruptly shifts gears, opening with an unusually fast gallop before rupturing into thundering doom that soon drops into a clean-tone Middle Eastern melodic breakdown.

The title track serves as the album centerpiece, opening with ominous film dialogue about blood sacrifice that launches into pummeling, detuned guitars rumbling over gut-punching drums and howling vocals hearkening to the proto-sludge of Pink Floyd’s “The Nile Song.” The dynamic relents briefly for a slow building clean guitar melody before all instruments lock into a jerking riff topped off by a trilling Iommi style lead. Throughout, Abyssal Trip is, just like its title suggests, an epic tour through desolate zones which yields much to discover.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #D&S Interviews #Spelljammer #Stockholm #Sweden #doom #metal #doom metal #music video #HeavyBest2021 #RidingEasy Records #Doomed and Stoned

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ellastar1980 · 5 years ago

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Charmed end of season wrap up

Season Two thoughts...

WELL....

That has been some roller coaster. Not even sure I know what the **** is going on, who knows who, what happened to, well take your pick.

Saying that, I can sense a distinct difference in tone for the last few episodes and something like a return logical, organic progression of events.

I want to acknowledge that this season has been subject to some unfortunate circumstances, not least the pandemic that cut it short, but throughout it all I have not had such an uplifting experience as I’ve had on Twitter and Instagram with the amazing people that make it happen.

From the actors to the writers, wardrobe to visual effects and make-up, it’s clear this production is filled with incredibly talented people who have made this more than another job. They’ve made it, and us watching, feel like family. I know we thank you from the bottom of our hearts and I hope we can return the favour over the coming months.

Each of the characters have had so much to contend with the past season after their lives were turned upside down. Some have been left reeling and coping with their current situations, while others have flourished and stepped up as the events needed.

MEL

In the first season things were as comfortable and everyday for Mel as they were going to get. She was however the first to embrace the idea of being a witch. Season two shows how innate that choice was.

Never one to be happy left behind, she uses her wits to excel. She laps up all the information she can get and takes chances following her gut. Never afraid to put herself out there she’s a driving force, filling the role of eldest even though she’s technically not.

She still has a fire - it drives her - but is recognising more and more when to step back. It’s not in her nature to do so, with such a high sense of justice. More recently, when Maggie and Ray had their issues, I was impressed that her silence and feeling of powerlessness in this situation led her to stop. It’s devastating to realise there’s nothing you can do. Maggie needed to do it herself.

With her love life, I loved the sweet dynamic with Kat and the powerful connection with Ruby. I have no idea how things would have progressed had Kat still been in the picture but the reveal in 219 felt so compelling, it felt like it needed Ruby. I’m not sure how it will progress or even if Ruby can forgive being drawn back into the Witch world without resenting Mel, that’s something that will be interesting to see.

MAGGIE

I’m astounded at the progress Maggie has made this season. Much like Mel, she adjusted to each situation as needed and took on more responsibility i would have ever expected from a 20 year-old sorority student. Establishing a basis as part of Safe Space was essential and she stepped up to the plate like a champ.

It’s clear from early episodes she resents being seen as powerless and young. This is her growth story, her chance to break free.

She’s also dealt with her family history instead of hiding. For someone so connected with how others feel, it’s difficult to turn that on yourself. It’s much easier to just make everything seem OK. The only time she could confront Ray was with Mel by her side. It must have been jarring to have to do it on her own but she did, and with that asserted her independence and voice.

Her relationship with Jordan is truly lovely. Since it’s a deep platonic basis in a shared supernatural situation, the whole scenario doesn’t have a trope. Is he still with his girlfriend? I don’t know but I’m not sure it matters. Nothing that’s happened between them is remotely cheating, Maggie has a support as does Jordan, arguing the question - is this something that qualifies cheating? Having a caring, deep relationship with another woman is not allowed? Maybe if you’re related but... and that is truly sad.

However it proceeds, I appreciate this time. The moments where he really does look at her in awe. Where she cares about him. Where there’s something there but it’s not what you expect. Were that all relationships as deep.

Her story has so many ways to go but right now, it’s where it needs to be. She has grown from the childish ways to being a force to be reckoned with and I look forward to it.

MACY

The chaos of episode 201 was just the kind of circumstance Macy Vaughn would hate. It’s out of control, vulnerable mayhem where her abilities are useless and where events left her the most unnerved.

Worry for their Whitelighter, poisoned, her mind violated, her sisters in danger, almost dying, finding a new demon power and finally being under the most pressure to protect the witch world - she had it bad and that was just the first episode.

It didn’t get any better - the pressure got worse, she thought she’d found an ally in a fellow demon/witch hybrid, kidnapped by Darklighter... the list goes on! The ‘love affair’ with Julian was of no comfort since her heart was being twisted up by Abigael’s relentless and VERY predatory pursuit of Harry. Never have I witnessed a more uncomfortable storyline - from the bargaining for sex, the goading, the kneeling... Macy was diminished in every way possible and I’m still trying to figure out why or if there is some satisfying pay-off yet to come? I hope so.

The only bright spark - and seriously, it was very late in the game, - is the burgeoning relationship with Harry that was beautifully set up in season one but had to be ‘adjusted’ for season two. Macy and Harry were lovable dorks. I sincerely hope that comes back in the future - you can be both sexy and dorky.

The only other life line was her first love - science. Her face came alive at the world opened back up to her, so much so Julian received the afterglow. I hope her future effortlessly combines her magic and science just as it did before.

HARRY

I can’t possibly do justice to the incredibly complicated intricacies of Harry, Jimmy and James. Three totally different parts of the same man has left the Whitelighter we know so well questioning his existence and character. I can’t even imagine.

It’s horrific to wake up to the idea that you are not you because you want to be, you are you because others wanted it. How do you begin to discover who you are when all you’ve ever known is what’s been programmed? Would you still be a good person? Would you hurt the ones you love?

In this case I can more than make peace with his behaviour - it drove poor Helen to the depths of despair. My only frustration is relenting to Abigael - but I will always believe her permeating his mind and subsequent gestures were her attempt to influence him. I will hold onto that even after I’m told otherwise (la la la I can’t hear you what was that no still can’t hear you oh well).

Again his feelings toward Macy has been a saving grace. When questioned about ‘the attic apology’ I felt it would be for not being open with Macy, braving rejection and laying it all out rather than chastising her for not being sure where she stood. I did look for more there, I have to be honest.

But this might be why he’s considering using Maggie’s power. He’s not himself, and I don’t feel he truly will be until he merges with Jimmy.

Jordan

Should be part of the family. He’s there for them, he knows all the ins and outs and I NEED a bromance with Harry. That whitelighter needs it so much too... A++

Swan

What a delight! I love a quirky and interesting but dynamic cookie. A+

Marisol

I shall require spirit Marisol in the future. I was promised she would see Macy again and I’m holding her to that. Heartbreaking in 218. A++

Julian

Sorry man. Auntie’s lacky left a bad taste when you mentioned she’d already messed in previous relationships and you said NOTHING to her? Went downhill from there so no. D-

Abigael.

Poppy A++, Abigael F-

Ray

Who came up in my estimations significantly? Why yes it was you Ray, well done. I’m so interested in the dynamic of Marisol and Ray meeting again, I need it. Add in Dexter and I’ve got the popcorn. B+

Lee

Why, you powerhouse, where did you come from? One episode and I need to know more... (wishlist: Macy’s demon sister, willing to broker peace with witches to fight human threat.) A+

Kat

I do hope we get to check back in with the medium at some point - her abilities were so interesting and her dynamic with Mel so sweet B+

Ruby

I feel such a need for expansion on her distaste for witchcraft when she so clearly loves to do it. B+

Helen

No-one could fail to be devastated by Helen. Incredible. If only it didn’t have to end that way... A++

Jimmy

How complicated can a situation get... abduction is not a good way to communicate young man. D

Aunt Vivienne

Definitely the powerful, evil one... fine for now as the bad guy. C

Godric

Sidelined but formidable. I hope he sticks around. B

Parker

A nice throwback to S1 that turned so dark. Once he decides which side he is on I’m going to have to insist he commits to it. D

Celeste

The elders are no more, know your place! Adjust! Work with the Charmed Ones and BE BETTER. D

I cannot praise the cast enough - I’ve had so many ups and downs but the portrayals of Mel, Macy, Maggie and the double time for Harry and Jimmy, are more than we could have hoped for. I am in awe of all the factors that go into each episode and the traversing of issues dealt with daily to keep it going.

Thank you so much. Everyone.

I still see so much hope for the future and can’t wait for the final 3 episodes.

Here’s to Season 3!

Be safe, be well, be happy.

#charmed #charmedcw #macy vaughn #mel vera #Maggie Vera #harry greenwood #season two #Hacy

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ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years ago

Text

How to be a Queen [Part 25]

Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she’s ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Part 1

How To Be A Queen

I’m afraid your apologies fall upon blind eyes. The fact that you were able to sneak three letters was a surprise in itself. Please do not believe you have the power to bring your queen to her knees by missing your imaginary quota. We have a mutual understanding of priorities.

Remember, your safety is my everything.

No matter how you prefer it not to be.

Days folded into weeks and I was tied fast to the rolling waves.

The goddesses willed today to be kind. The skies were clear and though summer was coming to an end, the breeze that rustled the trees was still warm. Hyrule Castle’s grounds are expansive and stretch into densely wooded forests owned exclusively by the Crown. Birds chirped sweet songs from the tall branches alongside the distant hum of the royal apiaries.

I shrieked. A clank of metal cut through the peacefulness.

My thin blade raked against the ground before its little momentum made it favor one side and hit the clay lamely. The backside of my hand burned an angry red and I pressed my lips together to hold a curse. The attacker, who I tossed an evil glare at, laughed gutturally.

“Infirmi vehvi.”

The passing glance turned into a scowl. I straightened, shooting a pointed accusation at Urbosa. “I am not weak.”

The corner of her mouth hiked upward. She even bent down to grab my weapon for me, tossing it my way instead of handing it over. I let out a short gasp as my fumbling hands took hold of the hilt.

“Oh, you’ve been studying!” Urbosa clapped mockingly with her own blade. “A shame your swordplay doesn’t match your academia.”

The sword was heavy in my hand, almost weighty enough that I needed to use both arms. My biceps burned and breath didn’t come to me easily. I let the weapon droop, a particularly undignified stance. “Impa, I implore you to reconsider.”

A tea table with two petite chairs sat at the edge of the copse. It didn’t belong with the scenery and had been drug from the castle several weeks ago. Impa looked up, languish in her movements as she pulled down her spectacles – another quality to her that made her seem so much older than she was. Odd rocks acted as paperweights to hold down the documents before her.

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” she said, dryly. “Inform me of which physical activity you prefer.”

I almost whined. “None. This is counterintuitive.”

“And wasting away in your office is better? No, don’t say your bedchambers because I have caught you time and time against sneaking letters out in the middle of the night,” Urbosa leaned on one hip.

Honestly? Even when I stamped my foot on the dirt and made a child of myself in front of the royal guard, I couldn’t completely disagree. It was mid-August in central Hyrule and for weeks at a time I would go without seeing the sun. Urbosa and Impa had been scheming for this together; forcing me outdoors to play petty games and when I vehemently worked against them under the guise of productivity, they played a hand I hadn’t seen coming.

“Ah, well,” my advisor sat back in her garden chair, towards her work. “I ponder how I should word a castle report to General Forester now that our Queen has given up swordplay.”

“Impa!” I met Anju who nervously shrugged from across the table.

As much as I hated it, Link didn’t need another disappointment. No matter how inferior, especially as of late. The supply line had been established by the time any skirmishes began. Though, from the coming reports, it was a project that was started far too late. Our strength out bested Gerudo forces as they were largely unorganized – at first. The following battles showed their adaptiveness and exposed our own faults.

It seemed that no matter how fortified the supply line grew, there would always be an attempted attack. Seasoned travelers were growing rightfully paranoid and provisions couldn’t be sent in large quantities, which burdened both the army and Gerudo Town.

And worse, the usurper was gaining ground.

Refugees were pouring from the Gerudo capital and, to my horror, learned that they attacked groups with small children. In our correspondences, I had to plead with Link to force one of his admirals to send men to sponsor their treks. There wasn’t opposition in his letters, but the strain in sparing troops was evident.

If they take the capital, then it will give reason to fear they will be able to travel north, Link had written. Fierlin has already proposed to establish a temporary camp by the Great Plateau, but I can’t do that to them now. Not this early on.

By them he meant his admirals, his captains, his men. I understood why Whitehurst had stopped me one day in the halls, admitting something he would never tell his counterpart.

“If you ever doubt our choice,” he had said with an uncharacteristically sound smile. “Nathaniel spoke of him several times after he pushed for replacement hearings.”

Urbosa attempted to bait me into swinging blindly again by lightly touching her blade to mine. Instead of loosening myself to anticipate her attacks, I tensed at the threat of suffering another rude smack to my wrist. The sight made her reprimand me.

“Feet parted!” she shouted, swiping at my feet. I gave a pathetic hop out of an irrational fear that my ankles would be cut through. She would never do anything to hurt me and the action was mostly born of annoyance: I haven’t been the ideal student she had been hoping for.

“Truly, Urbosa.” My voice was shaking more than I needed it to. “This is very harsh on a beginner!”

“Forgive me, my Queen,” Urbosa said without a drop of sorrow. Then, she smiled with a measure of mischievous. “Although you did have the advantage of Hyrule’s most renowned swordsman as your knight attendant.”

“Renowned?” I yelped as her sword clashed against mine. She was holding back, I knew, but my arm wavered under the kickback. “I had no idea that standing beside a person warrants a personal gain of their skill.”

Her response was in Gerudo and I paused our circling to process the words. I had been studying the language during my downtime. Since the Gerudo aristocracy was being housed within the castle, there was no shortage of conversation partners. Some words I couldn’t make out yet the little I could made my face catch a rosy red beyond the sweat that caught my forehead.

“That is entirely unwarranted!”

I swung back against her sword with the strength she had been vying for. It made me curse myself when the pride in her face swelled. Urbosa harked out her triumph, “Translate your emotions into force. Even the most beautiful of desert flowers bare thorns.”

A strand of hair had loosened from my braid and in grew matted against my damp forehead. “Some find my words to be prickly, but my bite has no comparison.”

“Depending on your opponent,” Urbosa nodded as I mirrored her footwork. I was a little shaky, my feet stuttering to match her own while keeping in mind where her eyes were. “Words with a sharp tongue can strike deeper than any blade. However, I think we can both agree that action has more immediate results.”

Our sparring went on until my muscles trembled and the soles of my feet were sore. We weren’t alone either. The notion of a group of noblewomen seeking solitude amidst wartime was laughable at best, outright reckless at worse. The ten men that surrounded us were once apart of my father’s personnel, an inner circle of knights who were both experienced and battle hardened. They were at ease, much to my preference, taking turns scouting the area and sharing a basket of foodstuffs. At one point I had suggested they be allowed to join in the war effort but I was told that my general wouldn’t even entertain the notion when it presented itself.

Still, I did my best to converse with those within the King’s Guard (a name I hadn’t had the energy to bother with changing). They were typically older men with families of their own presiding within the capital; each a story of their own that I would think of in the night when news trickled in riddled with death and carnage.

The victories, despite being so sparse, hadn’t allowed me any reprieve. My whereabouts were a constant reminder of my privileges, luxuries I didn’t feel fit for. Guilt – or was it shame? – made a home in the back of my mind when I would yearn for more than what my power could afford. As with my materials, I was rich in company to dine with. Platters that would never grow scant and goblets that would never run dry.

My father, Impa, Urbosa, and an army of advisors were dazzled by my smiles and ability to save face in adversary. There would always be those against war and my court was not without; all I could do was take it in strides with each evening I entertained the court.

“Any news?” I said to Impa as I maintained a neutral expression. Courtiers twirled about the floor, most were newly returned from the summer harvests and ready to gain favor with their still-new Queen. Little factions of particular lords and ladies clung to the borders of the throne room, gossiping or scheming, I couldn’t tell. But, really, was there a difference?

It almost made me regret not socializing with these people in my youth. Not that Father would permit such free time.

Without turning my head, I heard her make a noise of acknowledgment. “Nothing of consequence, dear.”

Exhaustion was heavy in her murmur. The real question was if that exhaustion was born of current events and from me. I kept the inquiry on my tongue.

“If there is,” I kept my voice low. “Please send them to my room.”

She didn’t need to respond. I stood, acting indifferent to the hundreds of eyes watching me and made my own way to the door. The upside to power was the lack of need to request an exit. Outside the doors was a man of the Knight’s Guard taking leave of another who he was talking to. I nearly felt bad for abruptly ending their conversation.

The knight bowed to someone behind me and Urbosa made herself known in a formal Gerudo fitting; glittering gold that would look odd on anyone that wasn’t her.

“Do you need accompaniment?”

I didn’t need to downplay the tiredness in my movements for her. “No, enjoy the reveling without me. I know how much you like the festivities and all too well of our aristocratic visitor’s tendencies to celebrate nothing until dawn.”

There was a critical look in her eye before it fell to a degree of understanding. We bid one another an uneventful goodnight with a short hug and I made my way towards the spiraling staircases without a care if there was anyone following.

My rooms were a bit tidier than I had left them. The bed was made with fresh linen and my night dress was spread over the covers neatly. Silently, I thanked myself for having Anju teach me how to lace a front-facing corset and let the drapes of fabric fall around my feet. Not long after, I was between the covers already half-way into sleep.

My mind clung onto the little consciousness I had left and I began to feel as if I were missing something. I tensed, the attempt to fall asleep slightly dashed.

He’s not here, I told myself, he’s not here and there is nothing I can do in this moment nor the next. The thought swirled like a mantra, but even then the coldness of the pillow beside me left no aid. A silly notion to miss a moment you felt only once in your life.

Step… two-three. Step.. two-three. Step… two-three.

A waltz, or at least a whisper of one, danced through me and into the movements that were both mine and not. My recollection didn’t come from seeing but knowing that I was in the throne room. It was much different from tonight, emptied and desolate.

“Do I humor you?”

The man with striking eyes was here, the charm of before now replaced with an intimidating seriousness. I wanted to spit venom at this nightmare and tell him he hadn’t broken me after all, but just like last time I wasn’t here to do that. His gaze was glowering, heated with all intentions that dream me ignored.

We took a turn about the room. I tilted my head and blinked up at him, “Only in the ways you hate.”

The words were backed by the knowledge of who he was. Knowledge I desperately tried to learn as I searched his vague outline.

Who are you? Tell me.

There was little response to my utterance aside from the slight pressure on my waist, which only caused a smile to form on my lips – barely there at all. I was teasing.

The pressure disappeared instantly. “You have met him.”

I watched him carefully now, feeling suspicious of his tone.

“We will always meet.”

The man’s chest heaved in laughter. “Yes,” he harked, “Indeed we will, but that was not in the way you and I shall. Never in the manner that he dallies in. We have an… inclination to put aside petty discrepancies, wouldn’t you agree?”

Confusion soured me. It was odd to feel like a third wheel in a conversation I was meant to be partaking in. Words bubbled in my chest yet I seemed to decide otherwise. He made a sound.

“Alas, you need not to tell me. Your ways speak clear that the mortal walks in your steps. Worshipping you like the dog you’ve made him.”

“You have come to mock me. Nothing more? As my children starve under your thumb?” I scowled, itching to say more but biting down on my urge. Already, I had said to much.

“Oh, no, my love,” he spat, “I have come to sing you sweet songs of our future.”

Suddenly, I was taken by scenes from far places. The heat was stifling, so hot I could hardly breath under the blaring sun. There was commotion around me and noise of huffing horses as wagons of supplies were being carried away. A quick glance at myself in my night gown said that no one could see me when they walked passed.

I breathed in the dry air, turning when I heard a particular conversation.

“The transport cases are too heavy for the mules to pull at once.”

It came from a large tent, the opening flap fluttering in a breeze that was just as hot as the air around it. This was unmistakably the Gerudo Desert and my chest grew wanton at the thought of who was inside. The business around me toned down and I took my first steps towards the tent.

My breath rattled uneven in my chest as my thoughts were spoken without the shapes of my lips.

“Why are you showing me this?”

Soft dissuasions beat vaguely against my urge to continue on, but my newfound control of my body and piqued curiosity were overwhelming. I pushed back the tent opening to see a dimmer setting. Light filtered through the canvas and persisted enough to void the need for lanterns. A large table sat in the middle of the space, littered with books and loose papers. Unpacked boxes coincided with the miscellaneous items and at the table, bending over to speak, was a man in uniform.

However, I didn’t pay much attention to him. The one in the chair held me rapt. I was unable to feel the carpet under my feet as I walked further within the tent, not particularly caring about much else.

“Then let’s pull them one by one.”

He was seated with his back to me and now I could make out the unmistakable wheat-blond hair. The man, officer, he spoke to sagged slightly in posture. “But, sir, by then-”

“Burn them,” my general said chastely, “Unless you plan to leave them as a gift to the our Gerudo friends, we either take our supplies with us or burn it. I have no intention of assisting in even the smallest stick of firewood. Is that clear, Captain?”

The tone he employed was foreign to me. Link sat up, looking at him where I could a glimpse of his side profile. My heart ached in a way I hadn’t expected. The man gave a silent sigh.

“Yes sir.”

Without another word, the captain stood straight and walked by me without an ounce of awareness. I swallowed, watching Link lean over what he was working on. Warily, I approached him and studied the way his appearance had changed.

How many months has it been already? Four, almost five months since his departure.

More importantly, how was this possible?

His hair was hardly tamed and seemed to had been shorn with a blunt tool – probably a knife. Ruminants from the vast sands clung from his cheeks to his hands, a testament to his time out here. It was obvious that he wasn’t happy and studied the pages of a book with heavy eyes that hadn’t closed for sleep in far longer than I cared to examine. One of his hands thumbed the next page while the other braced the side of his face as he slumped over the table, a straight seat long abandoned after the captain left.

Link looked far older than he was.

I watched his eyes skim the words and whispered uselessly, “I wish I could help you.”

Blue eyes wandered astray in my direction. I thought they would see right through me as all the others but instead…

“Zelda?”

A breath caught in my throat as his expression of distress morphed from shock to disbelief to a certain relief. “Goddess, Zelda… what are you… what are you doing here?”

Link stood to his full height, clad in uniform and every emotion flashing over him.

“This is a dream,” I immediately said, staggering back. His confusion followed me.

“What do you mean?”

He began taking steps toward me.

“This is a dream,” I repeated, this time more persistent.

It barely occurred to me that we weren’t in the tent anymore. We weren’t anywhere. Link didn’t seem to care. He smiled, reaching towards me.

“I don’t understand,” he shook his head. “I don’t understand, but I don’t have to. I missed you, Zelda. More than anything.”

Link’s eyes held an adoration that I had always yearned for… and yet it was out of place. His hands shook as they closed around my shoulders. “I thought about you every night, Zelda. I crave only you and your light. Your love and pity. I have prayed for a moment like this and here you are!”

“Link-”

“Don’t you get it?” his volume raised sharply. “I do this all for you. I slave for you, I plead for you, I kill for you!”

Then a sickening wet sound cut through his speech. He looked down first and I followed to where his gaze stopped.

Red coated his uniform, staining the midnight blue darker around the tear. Protruding from his abdomen was a silver blade tinged in his blood. I think I might have screamed. He looked back up at me with blank eyes and made a choking sound. Link’s lips formed a word.

I wasn’t in a tent with my dying general. I wasn’t anywhere, but I could still see the image of him dying in my arms with overpouring blood running from his stomach. I wanted to scream. I wanted to sob. Only tears ran from my eyes as the man of my nightmares swung me through our dance.

“A reminder of what I’ve done in the past. A warning of what I’ll do in the future.”

---

I had awoken in a sheet of sweat and tears. My throat was scratchy from the sobs of my sleep and I didn’t move to begin my day immediately. I spent the early morning hours curled in a ball on my bed without the energy to cry more nor the exhaustion to fall back to slumber.

Anju found me staring into the shadows of my room and decided to fetch my breakfast from the kitchen for me. While she sat with me, stirring a cup of strong tea in her hands, I didn’t talk about my dream and allowed her to tell me all the silly rumors the castle maids push around. Gratefulness ebbed at me with every smile she pulled from my lips. I still don’t think I deserve her loyalty and friendship.

“Any decent ones about me?”

She took a long sip of her tea, rolling her eyes. “Some ladies of the court fancy a royal wedding. They don’t have much care for wars.”

I hummed my understanding and took my time spreading strawberry jam on toast. “Predictable. I don’t blame them for looking for distraction. I’m sure the bordering lands have heightened concerns with quartering troops.”

My maid paused. “Quartering troops?”

I blinked. It was a dream, I thought harshly. It was a dream and nothing more. Why am I scaring her by thinking it was true?

“I meant for the injured,” I mended hastily. “Transport isn’t so secure until you cross Lake Hylia and some feel more comfortable healing in the towns than traveling all the way here.”

“Ah,” she nodded, “I suppose they aren’t as patriotic as I thought. I get it, though, I would be uncomfortable by the idea too. You know how Kafei and my father feel about taking holiday away from here.”

I breathed a breath of relief.

The remainder of the morning went without a hitch. I hadn’t received any intel overnight and despite my increased pestering, my inbox lacked anything regarding the war to the southwest. It seemed that my mind had fled any sense of reason regarding the mythos of premonitions. I jumped at any counsel about the conflict or how Admiral Byron’s spies should proceed.

I frowned at the sound of another unsuccessful mission. “I want eyes on him.”

“We have been monitoring their encampments for months,” Byron gestured to the war room’s map. “All aspects of their movements are accurate to the square footage.”

Half of the admirals, including Whitehurst and Fierlin, had taken leave early this month while the other end of the cabinet returned to Hyrule Castle.

“That’s not what I meant,” I watched the short man carefully. “General Forester has written that the war prisoners regard him with a reverence of a king. Please recall to me one specification he has recalled for us.”

He rustled through his papers before coming upon one and folded his arms over it. “The one true King of the Gerudo, Your Majesty,” he exhaled, then looked at me with tired eyes. “He is nothing but a usurper, a traitor, of the aristocracy.”

“How am I to react when I have no description of this man? When our men only hear of him as this… fabled legend? I will not accept the prolonging of that,” I sighed. “Do you see where my plight is coming from, Admiral Byron? I realize you’re without a doubt an accomplished man and leader within my army, however this problem still pesters me.”

The man pressed his mouth into a fine line, looking down. “I do. Moving forward I will follow through with this issue and provide you with results. Though I assure you that this Ganondorf is only below you, I will unmask him all the same.”

I bent my head towards him with a smile. “You are will met, sir. Thank you.”

The meeting in the war room was productive and filled appropriate guidelines to send Link’s way. I was pleased to see a familiar face.

“Sir Elian!” I grinned when he approached me after the meeting. “What a pleasant surprise!”

The knight took a short bow with a muddied helmet cradled under the crook of his arm. He must have just arrived in time for the next set of deliverables. I had seen him every now and again lately; his visitations becoming scarce as the war drew on and more precautions were put into place on the road.

“Queen Zelda,” Elian acknowledged kindly. “It seems the news hadn’t arrived yet. I was recently handed down a promotion.”

A conservative smile graced him as he sat on his heels, making the extra stripe on his uniform more pronounced. I clapped my hands together at his bravado.

“My apologies, Captain,” I laughed and voiced my congratulations. He deserved it, after all. There weren’t many that are up to the task of supervising shipments in this climate. “I must attend to Lady Urbosa in the gardens, however you’re more than welcome to accompany me.”

“Why, I could never turn you down,” he acquiesced.

The path from the war room was winding if one wanted to go to the gardens and I was happy to have a companion. I learned from our conversation that the roads were steadily becoming less fraught with ambush but it did little to calm the nerves of anyone who travelled.

“The Rito are slowly warming up to the idea of aerial surveyance. Especially now that we’ve proven to uphold our trade agreements,” I told him. “Their ambassador and Lady Urbosa butt heads constantly during court. It hardly helps.”

Elian chuckled. “I wonder if the threat is the reason why they’re barely trying to thwart us.”

That made me turn to him with concern. “Do you think they monitor that?”

“If the walls have ears, I wonder how they use our secrets?”

I was about to ask him to elaborate when a strangled noise of a shout cut me off. The gardens were around the corner when we heard it.

“Where is she?” a voice boomed down the hall. “Relinquish me and tell me where she is!”

When I realized that Urbosa was shouting over the demanding voice, I gathered my skirts to avoid falling on my face and ignored Elian’s warnings. Once I rounded the corner I saw Lord Ibauna staring down Urbosa’s sword. Guards stood around them, unsure of what to do.

“What is the meaning of this?” I said about their shouting match. Ibauna twisted to me with eyes full of malice.

His fists clenched tightly. “It’s your fault! My brother is dead and it is your fault!”

Lord Ibauna began towards me with a heavy foot, fury red in his face and step. Elian blocked his path with a heavy pull of his sword from its sheath. Two guards wrangled him to a stop before he made it to us and made him kneel. One of the man looked up with question.

“Lady Urbosa?” I asked, looking between her and Ibauna with growing worry.

“He approached me in the gardens looking for you,” she sniffed in his direction, “I wouldn’t tell him where you were because I’ve heard tales of his insolence… then he began insulting your honor, Your Grace.”

“Because you are leading a losing war!” Ibauna yelled, struggling against his binds. “We’re being slaughtered. Don’t pretend, Princess! I have seen the reports and the dead eyes of my family. Give up the aristocracy to Ganondorf!”

I stared, words refusing to surface on my lips.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” a guard said, pulling the lord harshly back to his feet. “We should lead him to the dungeons for his sharp tongue. At your word, of course.”

I pulled at my fingers and couldn’t look away from his anger. Thankfully, my voice found me. “Who is it you speak of? How do you know that name?”

Lord Ibauna seemed to sober up and watched me with suspicion. “Consider it, Zelda. The very basis of this war is within an area that does not affect us. Send the aristocracy back and let them handle their own mess.”

I considered him coldly and nodded at the guards. He struggled against their hold, “I know who you are, girl! You’re meant to be a goddess among men yet you lead us towards tyranny and death!”

His screams haunted down the hall and I startled when Urbosa sheathed her sword. She gave me a look of concern.

“I suppose our teatime is cancelled?”

“Yes, I – um – I feel a little faint and I should retire,” I said, frowning. My mind worked through his words and felt a feeling I hadn’t since I was a girl. An impossible responsibility setting itself on my shoulders. A crown too heavy to bear. I turned to Elian, “I have another message for you if you wouldn’t mind.”

How did he know that name? The same way Link had learned of it?

Lord Ibauna came from money nearly older than the Crown. His silver spoon kept him from any type of military service that may be passed to an ordinary man. Very much like his family, he sought to gain favor in court circles through ways of blackmail and empty promises; a prime example was his attempted seduction of me at the ball. Everything he did was a double edged sword and when his first plan is rejected, another more devious execution settles into place – that being my subsequent judgement from my father.

The only regret I have now was not wearing more rings on my fingers when I hit him.

My hands were shaking when I reached my quarters. Despite my reassurances that I was fine, both the captain and Urbosa followed me. I asked them to wait outside as I scrambled through my desk drawers for my ink pot and pen.

I was going to write to Link to go through with moving resources back behind our lines. If he didn’t want to transition his men there immediately, fine, but I wasn’t about to let pride put anyone at risk. He wasn’t going to be happy… though there would be a good chance he would understand.

A flash of yellow out of the corner of my eye made me freeze. My desk was cluttered already but the yellow yarn was unmistakable. I forced myself to look at the black button eyes and the mouth the formed a slight frown. My mind tried to process when I had taken it from my drawers. Surely, I hadn’t forgotten. In reality, I had gone out of my way not to see it at all and briefly contemplated discarding it. I rose to my feet and swallowed my nerves, almost completely collected when I saw what the doll laid upon.

An envelope, sealed by red wax, was positioned on the side of my desk. It was in a place I knew for certain had been empty this morning.

Tentatively, I skipped the letter opener and ripped an opening with my hands. The doll fell to the floor. My movements were frantic, shaking, as I scanned the words within.

Someone had broken into the castle to place this in my room.

Someone had access to this wing of the grounds and placed this in my room.

Someone had been in my room.

With my introduction having been made, I patiently await yours.

Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo

#sorry this took so long #i was making money #and crying bc i wanted to fight my boss but i can't bc assault is illegal #anyway #htbaq #how to be a queen #loz #zelink #zelda #link #ashleyswrittenwords #zelink fanfiction

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robbybirdy · 5 years ago

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✨ get to know me ✨

I want to thank @copperpawsims for tagging me.

Rules: tag 20 followers you’d like to get to know better (I am not sure that I can tag 20 People, but I will do my best.)

Nickname: Robbie Birdie

Gender: Female

Astrological Sign: Scorpio

Height: 5 feet 3 inches or 160 centimeters

Sexuality: Straight

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Favourite Animal: I like birds, some could say that I am a bird (wow, that pun. XD)

Number of Blankets: What? Um… 2?

Where I’m from: New York, USA

Dream Trip: I really really want to go to South Korea or Japan. I may even want to teach English in those countries. I find the difference of culture so fascinating. I am currently teaching myself Korean.

Type of sims player: I have always been a very traditional player. I usually start out with one character (Usually a female) and then I have her meet someone and then they have a family. Most of the families that I create in the sims, have one income. One of the characters goes to work while the other takes care of the six kids. Sims families in my games always have as many kids as they can. The first generation of the Funk had eight kids. That was a lot.

Most wanted TS4 item: More small animals, like birds, lizards and other small animals ( other than rodents) because there are people out there, like myself, who want to make their SimSelf’s and their families, but they can’t.

TS4 Expansion Pack: I love Seasons!

Most wanted: Um…I do want University. But even more than that, I feel that we need TEACHERS. We got a lot of careers, but we are still sending our sim kids to school being taught by nobody. And I actually kind of hope that we don’t get a tropical paradise expansion pack just because I am afraid of the intense lag, like the one from Island Paradise. Yes, it was amazingly pretty, but it was SO laggy.

Game Pack: I use Parenthood so much more than I thought I would.

Most Wanted: A Generations Pack. That gives you the ability to learn to drive at any age, not just during teen years. Having a new skill that teens-elders can pick up that would be like crocheting or knitting. And just more stuff to do with teens, adults, and elders. Because we really don’t have that much to do with them.

Stuff Pack: Cool Kitchen

Most Wanted: Mid-Century Modern Stuff

When i created this account: I started this simblr November 2018.

Why I created this account: I thought about it, and I wanted to share my stories with other people. I have multiple notebooks with my Sims stories. I wanted to share and I wanted to write for the sake of writing.

I tag: @gottacatchemallsims @mortsims @beautisimmer @thesimsophonique @proud-sim-mom

Those who I have tagged, don’t feel like you have to do this, just for fun. :D

#get to know me

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lycorogue · 5 years ago

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Who Wants to Meet My OCs? (Part 2 - Gyateara)

First and foremost, I meant to have this whole series to be sort of churned out the same day/week as Part 1. Life.... didn’t let that happen. I then figured “okay, I’ll update the series every Sunday” and then yesterday came and went...

Regardless, from the NEXT POST onward, I’m aiming to update every Sunday. Now, back to the series itself.

Ever since at least November, I’ve wanted to do individual posts for each of my OCs so you could meet them all. Well, I’m finally getting off my butt and working on this massive project (we’ll ignore that I’m spending hours working on this instead of my ML fanfic.... >_>).

In Part 1, I gave a broad overview of this whole Meet My OCs series, as well as gave some generic IRL background to the two main worlds my OCs hail from:

1) Gyateara

2) Glitches

Well, in this part of the series, I’m going to stay IRL as I explain where each individual OC within the Gyateara universe came from. If this is interesting to you, feel free to check below the break.

If you’d rather just skip ahead to the character bios themselves, my first one about my Glitches character Willow should be up in two weeks (sorry for the wait).

If I’m talking about Gyateara characters, I should probably talk about the one that first birthed the world:

Amara Yori

Amara was my first-ever D&D character. I had known of the game for ages since my father used to play it frequently (and apparently roped my mother into at least running the monsters so she’d be included; ignoring that she’d rather not be included XD).

I really got interested in D&D when I was a teen and saw the gorgeously stylized covers for AD&D ver 3.5. My father had passed away before officially introducing me to the game (although we did used to play Dungeon all the time, so that was a start...), and none of my friends were going to touch that “nerd culture” with a 10ft pole, so I simply admired the books, but never actually played. Then I went to college and managed to Nerd Out.

Hubby (then boyfriend) offered to help me build my first-ever character, but in 2004 the D&D 3.5 expansions were so massive I had far too many choices to choose from.

So Hubby had me go through some of his extra minis, and let me pick out one that I really liked. With his help, I ended up with the 2003 version of the Wood Elf Skirmisher.

Based solely on this mini, I started building Amara.

Hubby suggested that I try out the Scout class for my first one, since I couldn’t choose between a Rogue, Ranger, or Druid, and Scout is sort of in between at least the Rogue and Ranger classes. For whatever reason - I can’t remember it now - I also decided I wanted to play a half-elf.

Upon reading the generic backstory description the D&D books had for the Scout class, I figured my character needed some sort of Tragic BackstoryTM that would explain her scouting skills. Things like trap finding and dismantling, masterful rope use skills, hiding and tracking skills, and connection to animals.

I was in a big The Vision of Escaflowne kick at the time - which shows up in a couple other characters’ backstories - and was fascinated with the history between Van Fanel’s parents. Van’s human father Goau stumbled upon Varie, a Draconian woman, in the woods one day. Draconians have the ability to manifest feathered wings which allow them flight. It was rare to see a Draconian, and her beauty - with her wings shimmering in the moonlight as she waded in a small pool of water - mesmerized Goau. He instantly fell in love and brought Varie home to be his wife. The duo seemed to love each other deeply. Amara’s parents, on the other hand....

I’ll get into more when I break down their actual bios, but I took the idea of “Human stumbles upon exotic non-human in the woods and instantly marries her” and twisted it slightly. Amara’s mother was very much emotionally, and possibly even physically (I haven’t confirmed this yet), abused by Amara’s father. Amara, being a half-elf, also had to deal with abuse at the hands of many of her fellow clansmen - both the human and the elven clans; pretty much exclusively because she was a “half-breed” (Yes, I was really into InuYasha then too).

As I kept building Amara, I kept adding more and more tragedy to her backstory. I do enjoy what I created, but, especially after reading a lot of posts here on Tumblr, I’m afraid her history is nothing but a giant knotted ball of cliches and tropes. For now, though, I’m running with it. Perhaps I can figure out work-arounds later....

I never did get to play more than a session or two with Amara before the game disbanded (which seems to be a repeat thing with my gaming group), but she still lives on in my mind, and eventually in Gyateara.

Natalie

As I mentioned above, The Vision of Escaflowne very much inspired me while I was working on the earliest bits of Gyateara. Therefore, Natalie is your basic Isekai protagonist.

For those who don’t know the term (I didn’t know an official genre term existed until about a year ago), Isekai refers to a subgenre of fantasy/speculative fiction where the main character is abruptly teleported from their world to a new one; usually one with a fantasy setting.

It’s a massive subgenre and includes most of the fantasy animes I’ve watched:

InuYasha

The Vision of Escaflowne

Fushigi Yuugi

The Devil is a Part-Timer

The Rise of the Shield-hero

The Saga of Tanya the Evil

The Familiar of Zero

How to NOT Summon a Demon Lord

Sword Art Online (technically)

.Hack//Sign (technically)

Digimon (first season, specifically)

Psyren (manga)

The list can go on, but that’s not the point of this post. Getting back to the actual point, I clearly enjoyed this genre without even realizing there was a term for it, and created my own Isekai story. Natalie is from our world, but is abruptly teleported to Gyateara’s main Northern Isle, where she must save the country from being destroyed by a power-hungry, put painfully charismatic, villain.

I had taken elements from Kagome (InuYasha), Hitomi (The Vision of Escaflowne), Miaka (Fushigi Yuugi), and I think I had Ariel (The Little Mermaid) in there as well at one point. She was - and still kind of is - just “Generic Isekai Female Protagonist”, which is one of the main reasons the story she was in failed so soon into NaNoWriMo back in... 2014, I think. Almost a solid decade after I started dreaming up her Isekai story. She definitely needs to go back to the drawing board a bit to be properly fleshed out.

Connor

He was from the same story as Natalie. Connor was a denizen of Gyateara’s Northern Isles, and became Natalie’s traveling companion as he helped her try to find a way home. Ya know, that old Isekai chestnut. I even leaned heavily into the cliche and had the two of them fall in love throughout their journey. Which would lead to a third-act twist of “Okay, we can defeat the villain, but then what? Could they stay together? Would Natalie stay on Gyateara? Will Connor instead try to go home to Earth with her?” Real original. I know. Add in that Connor was a sort of Frankenstein’s monster of a character. Grab a snack, this is going to take a minute...

Connor’s traits included:

The basic backstory and drive of the player character in the video game Fable, in which his father was killed, his mother and sister tortured (and presumed dead, only to be proven still alive and captured), his home village burnt down, and he was taken in by the local guild so the guild master could train Connor to become the hero the GM believed Connor was prophesied to be.

The half-demon traits of InuYasha (InuYasha), which transformed him into a sort of were-cat. His mother, a full-demon, could become a 15ft (4.57m) tall panther with split tails. Connor’s half-demon heritage was hidden from him, and he only transformed under extreme moments of stress.

Yes. The “love interest is the only one who can snap the protag back from a monstrous rage” trope was heavily evident throughout the story.

His overall look was inspired by Link (Legend of Zelda video game franchise). His basic fighting style - swordsmanship and expert archery - was a sort of tag-teamed “thieving” from Link as well as Van (The Vision of Escaflowne).

A highly resistant, and begrudging submission to become the Hero of Prophecy lifted off of Tamahome (Fushigi Yuugi).

I know he was much more influenced by Van from Escaflowne when I was first making him. I even used Van as a reference guide when I tried to create character head shots of him. I just can’t recall now what else I swiped from that character.

I feel like there are also other male anime/video game protags I swiped traits from, but I can’t recall them anymore. Regardless, I threw them in a blender, and poured out the mixture that became Connor.

Jolene Crisslebalm

Ah, the character whose last name I always have to look up, because I can’t recall how I spelled it. Good starting point, right?

I am a very reserved person. In particular, a very sexually reserved person. But I do enjoy sex, and I love the act of flirting, and the “thrill of the chase” when it comes to dating, so a part of me always wonders what I would be like if I had let go of my reservations and just enjoyed the carnal pleasures of life.

So, two characters in particular - Willow (from Glitches) and Jolene - are my exploration of that Path Not Traveled.

A friend of mine was hosting a D&D campaign via Roll20.net, and wondered if I wanted in. I hadn’t been involved in a D&D game in a year or so at that point, and I’ve enjoyed playing a couple of one-offs with him DMing, so I leapt at the chance to join. I had almost always played a form of Rogue class (hence the internet persona) in previous D&D campaigns, so I decided to stay the course, but with a twist I hadn’t tried before.

I wanted Jolene to be a sort of reluctant adventurer, preferring instead to be a cat burgler, but I also wanted that sexual/sensual exploration of character. So, she was a traveling prostitute (not exactly legal without proper ties to a brothel; much like a Sex Trade Guild sort of thing), but she also used her “alone time with clients” to scope out the place to see if it’s worth robbing.

Fast forward about 3 years, and I end up watching the first episode of the Freeform Marvel series Cloak and Dagger... where I saw Tandy doing the same thing, but roofying her targets instead of sleeping with them first... Great minds, and all that?

Eh, Jolene figures “might as well make money off of them before coming back and robbing the rest... less to carry later...”

In the end, while Jolene had an.... interesting run... and one I actually did enjoy role playing, even if it did leave me a bit frustrated afterwards (a good frustrated?)... Jolene just didn’t fit the world the DM created, nor did she fit in quite as well as I would have hoped with the other players.

They were all AMAZING players, by the way. Some of the best role players I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and such fantastic writers as well. BTW, we wrote out everything in the Roll20 chat log instead of verbally playing or using video-chat. I must admit, I was quite envious of their skills. It was just a tighter knit group, and I wasn’t able to feel out their play-style well enough to continue with the group. Eventually they all had to go their separate ways anyway when their schedules no longer lined up.

Still, I LOVED Jolene, and she was the D&D character I had the joy of running the longest, so she NEEDED to live on. She did, in my first NaNoWriMo “win”. I managed to hit those 50,000 words, but I still had about 3/5ths of her story to write.

See, while coming up with Jolene’s jaded attitude towards love and her pull towards a more hedonistic lifestyle, I went with the good old cliche of Heartbreak Was The Culprit. (With so many cliches in my character builds, is it a wonder why I just stick with fanfiction... the characters are already created...)

Jolene had her heart broken five times between the ages of 13 and 21. She was the type who fell quick into love, and fell HARD into it, and always felt intensely betrayed by her lovers when they left her. To be fair... they did routinely leave her for a woman of better social standing, or - in her youth - someone more willing to put out, or just straight up abandon her without so much as a farewell note. Eventually, she gave up on trying to find love, and joined a brothel, and then the thieves guild, and then headed out on her own from there.

The DM thought it unlikely that she was a prostitute for the better part of 5 years without a single pregnancy, so he rolled for it, and Jolene had one miscarriage, one still born, and one healthy child she gave up for adoption. I was not expecting to include that in her backstory, but it actually worked fairly well.

And all of that was the subject of my NaNo project: Lost Loves and Paramours. Jolene’s full biography leading up to the campaign: every man she fell in love with, every person she slept with, the one client who tried to murder her to avoid a scandal of his lust getting the better of him, the pain of her miscarry, the devastation of her stillborn, the heart break of giving up her surviving child, the struggles against a stalker, and her over-all YOLO attitude.

(Bitmoji is a beautiful thing...)

Well, second long post of this series is now complete. Next week, I’ll talk about the IRL inspiration for my Glitches characters. Thank you so much for indulging me on these epic ramblings.

#writing #LycoRogue writing #OCs #Meet My OCs #character creation #IRL character inspiration #writing process #cliches #long post #Gyateara #Amara Yori #Jolene Crisslebalm #Natalie #Connor #series post #2 of 17?#LycoRogue original

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bigloquatthoughts · 3 years ago

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Thoughts While I Watch The Nintendo Direct A Day Late

Thoughts on the Nintendo Direct: Yoko Toro is an interesting person, that card game looks interesting but Y wouldn’t I just play Talisman? Cool to see more isometric RPGS on switch.

Hyrule Warriors is fun! Age of Calamity is where I really fell in love with the musou formula again - I played a LOT of DW Empires 5, so taking over a map / doing stuff on a map before combat is fun. The silly weapons like the broom etc also make this really fun. I’ll gladly play more of this. the new scientist warrior looks sick! Who asked for Chocobo GP? This looks like Garfield Racing re-skinned and with better physics maybe. When they said Chocoboooooo! I was hoping for a Chocobo’s Dungeon. My buddy Ted got that game with his PS1 and we though it was soooo cool, especially after playing Azure Dreams on Gameboy.

Thanks for telling us when we can see the new Smash Fighter which is probably more Sword boy / Sword gorl why won’t you put any interesting fighters in this game I am moving to Smash Bros CatDog Edition. Kirby washing up on an island is the most unlikely thing for a being who summons giant warp stars to fly through the universe on but okay. this looks INCREDIBLE. Kirby + Nier vibes with the busted up environment. what bums me out is that we saw the same enemy like, 10 times in the first 10 seconds of that one area. The giant snakes / fish are cool, but lets see some more variation maybe 3D Kirby boss fights look pretty freaking fun! 3D Kirby looks pretty great. It will suffer from Kirby things and also be fun. I will play it.

Hey, don’t worry. We’ll tell you some things about Animal Crossing in October. Not now - but in October. U will have content in November. Just hold on pls, be on the lookout for all ur rotten turnips in ur house

Lets move on, to more stuff second free update for Mario golf, which I would LOVE to play but can’t afford rn. I played it at my neighbors the other day and it’s pretty damn good. new courses and seeing little ninji run around will be very fun. Cool, kid Disney game. Dope. Old Republic for Switch looks great! Dying Light 2: Mirrors Edge edition. Oh, we can play with other people? That seems fun. Do we scavenge together? The Control cloud game demo felt okay on my wifi, but IDK about these cloud games as something worth getting on the switch when PC’s are a thing?

Triangle strategy looks dumb, Disgea does that shit better now right? Metroid Dread looks really cool, excited to run from big robot and make Samus Very Strong Hopefully u get to crawl around as big robot at some point in the game. Love the lore dump we get. Dude, Chozo were here! That’s sick!

Many people have been using switch online… Oh, giving out their old roms gathering dust for “free,” with their current sub was too generous for Nintendo I suppose. New plan for N64 games seem sick - the playing together online thing is very cool. Starting library is standard but nothing too exciting. Very excited to see how the emulation handles these games in relation to how they behaved on the console, as all the cool sped running shit we see in these sorts of older games vary depending on the version of the game.

I’m more excited about the Genesis line up than I am about the N64 one, save those two games I don’t recognize. We get Castlevania, a Contra, some puyo, Beatem ups, and playing this version of Gunstar Heroes might sell more of the other one. Expansion Pack is a name.

Notice how Mystical Ninja Starring Goemon and Comix Zone are not on these lists? They are too afraid to give us the best of what both platforms have to offer and it’s a shame.

WIRELESS CONTROLLERS FOR $60 EACH? ARE THEY BLUETOOTH SO I CAN USE THEM WITH OTHER STUFF? WTF

I was just talking to my friends about the Shadowrun Isometric RPGs last night! Cool. Castlevania collection looks dope. Button mapping is huuuuge for me. Love that. An Almighty Classic Returns: Actraiser - even the SNES game was hella off my radar, this looks dope. I’m down to side scroll and then town build. Deltarune + Homestuck are games that I really really want to play but my depression is such that I just sit and stare at the starting screen and nothing happens. One day I will consume Toby’s works and be better for it. But until then, I’ll just be excited for my friends and listen to the baller soundtrack. god dammit I love that dog.

new story of seasons looks cool but Natsume is dead, no hope left cept for Stardew #doomer NAMCO Hamster - yes. Rune Factory 5 might be good on the switch. The 3DS versions were sooooo sloooowwwww for me. I’ve heard really good things about the franchise as a whole though. MARIO movie thoughts: THIS CASTING IS GREAT EXCEPT FOR CHRIS PRATT WTF. WHY IS HIMBO WHO HATES GAYS MY MARIO?

CHARLIE DAY AS LUIGI WAS WRITTEN IN THE FUCKING STARS EXCEPT HIS SHORTER THAN FUCKIN CHRIS PRATT, HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU MESS THIS UP. CHARLIE DAY AS MARIO AND CHRIS PRATT AS LUIGI BECAUSE HE BUSTS GHOSTS WHICH IS SUPER THEOLOGICAL ANYWAY GOD DAMN DUDE. THIS ISN’T THAT HARD.

KEEGAN MICHAEL KEY AS FUCKIN TOAD MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD. I AM SO EXCITED FOR THAT.

JACK BLACK AS BOWSER - WOULD HAVE BEEN A BETTER MARIO BUT ANYTHING THIS MAN TOUCHES IS GOLD.

Movie is saved by Seth Rogan, I bet you 1 full bitcoin that DK saves this fuckin movie.

FRED ARMISEN AS CRANKY KONG IS ACTUALLY PERFECT. He is a real life hipster Cranky Kong and I love it. Dude playing Kamek looks familiar? Who is that

After seeing Wreck it Ralph, doesn’t Mario sound more like a Kenneth the Page than a Starlord? IDK man. Boomers are weird. Splatoon 3 looks cool, bummer it’s still 4v4 but whatever. the story mode for 1 and 2 were great aside from the difficulty spikes. stoked.

THE WAY THAT BAYONETTA IS REVEALED IS ONE PUNCH MAN TIER COMEDY.

Also, ya’ll spoiled it for us with the capcom font.

WAIT A GLOVED HAND PUNCHED, NOT A DEMON HAND? YOOOOO MOMMYYYYYYY THIS HAIR.

YOOO BUTTERFLY SHIT HELL YEAH

THERE IS MY BIG HAIR DEMON YES OH SHIT WE GET TO MEGA ZORD FIGHT WITH OUR DEMON?! THIS IS FUCKIN SICK

OH DIFFERENT DEMONS TO FIGHT WITH THIS IS SICK. THIS IS HOW I WANT POKEMON TO PLAY. 100% NOT JOKING. BAYONETTA: GODZILLA EDITION

HOLY SHIT THAT IS TIGHT

UHHHH IS DANTE GONNA BE IN THIS

WHO IS THAT BOI WITH THE SWORD

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Alright. There have been better directs, Christmas line up is looking p weak so far. Hopefully they can give us some bangers for holiday.

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spryfilm · 6 years ago

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“Tin Star” (2017)

Drama

10 Episodes

Produced & Created by: Rowan Joffe

Featuring: Tim Roth, Christina Hendricks, Leanne Best, Christopher Heyerdahl, Roark Critchlow

There is a popular term being used at the moment, that this is the ��Golden Age’ of television, which is a ridiculous thing to say, as that age was in the 1950s, when the idea of what television could be started to take shape. That was when some of the most original and cutting edge television was made, watching some of those programs can be very refreshing. There is also the attitude that we are in the best time of television where writers are the kings of the medium – this might be truer, but it is not a new idea. One thiing is for sure, there are more scripted shows than ever with a few of them being great, a larger number being very good, but a large amount being a complete waste of time. The trick is of course knowing which ones to start viewing as well as when to give up or stay with them. The beauty is that many of these series are only normally up to ten episodes so its not a long term commitment if they do not follow through on their initial promise.

That brings us to the latest drama featuring Tim Roth in the main role as an English police officer who has been transplanted to the Canadian Rockies, something that is already an original idea. Couple that with the opening ten minutes of the first episode, this is a show that digs its hooks into you and will not let go for its first season.

There is little real need to explain a plot with this show as it would remove any mystery or drama as this is show that really shouldn’t be spoiled at all.

“Tin Star” is based around former London police detective Jim Worth is the new police chief of Little Big Bear, a small town in the Canadian Rockies, where he has moved with his family to escape his past. The influx of migrant workers because of a new big oil company, headed by the mysterious Mrs. Bradshaw, forces Worth to confront the resulting wave of crime that threatens the town. Worth’s stand against the criminals results in vigilante groups attacking him and his family, leading Worth to slip into the violence of his past.

Many modern police dramas, particularly those on pay sites or cable channels will touch on family matters as well as any home life – this is mainly to broaden the main character’s appeal, as well as give depth to his life, making him three dimensional. The show may even create some kind of drama at home, making this an integral part of the plot. What “Tin Star” has done is to integrate the home and work life, making them interwined in a very natural way that causes almost all of the players to, at some time, interact with everyone else. It also negates the reason for the main character to have some kind of double life separating his work and home. This also means he can be as honest as he can be with the people most important in his life – this is something many stories will not do. Honesty in a television drama is something that is normally not used as a narrative device, in fact what this main character finds is that honesty is all he has left after the first few episodes. This is a person that has made some mistakes as well as lied to many people, this show illustrated in a stylised way what can happen when the chickens come home to roost.

“Tin Star” involves many different genres, it is political, it is definitely nourish, has action, involves minorities and uses its landscape as a fully fledged element that is rarely seen in this kind of show. What it doesn’t do, which many many shows do, is make the actual story a ‘slow burn’, the narrative moves along at a surprising pace. I found this refreshing, not only did it keep me interested but it also helped to maintain the point of the story – which I can say is very good. The main part of the story is completely resolved by the end of the last episode, as well as many of the subplots are fully explained. What is done, however, is that if there was a second season (which I believe there is) there is enough in the closing minutes to continue some kind of story – which is pretty fantastic.

The casting of the show, in part due to the nature of the transplanting of an English family to Canada is just great, and it may be in part due to the juxtaposition of many English accents around so many Canadian, as well as Native American, accents that seems to keep the show fresh each episode. With Tim Roth in the lead as the Sheriff you get immediate legitimacy as well as an actor that knows his craft, can play many different emotions as well as someone who is extremely physical both being able to inhabit a space specifically as well as not being afraid to really commit to a part in a unique way. The cast is expansive but I loved seeing Christina Hendricks playing someone who is more than the she seems, particularly in the first few episodes. In fact she has such a good story arc that I hope she returns at some point for any subsequent seasons. Lastly, there is the Canadian charater actor Christopher Heyerdahl, who genre fans will know from his years of work on many different science fiction and horror shows, here he plays a man who has secrets that are revealed slowy and as such subtle changes in performance is required, Heyerdahl is more than capable of showing us these.

Rowan Joffe the creator of “Tin Star” is an experienced writer/director, who has worked with many top talents as well as being behind some pretty good movies. He has created a show that is compelling, as well as fitting in with his previous work. His work often involves people that have become isolated for a variety of reasons, that incorporate a variety of genres, which is unique in itself. This is probably why “Tin Star” has been such a success in terms of the finished show – he has also used the location as well as showing how this landscape affects the characters as well as the motivations behind some of the arrivals to the town. Some of the same themes that are presened here are also in the new film “Wind River” (2017) to a lesser or greater extent – I am sure that is a coincidence.

I recommend this show highly, it is ten episodes of well written, directed and acted drama you will see this year. There are top performances, especially from Roth who shines here in a role that seems like it was written for him, but that’s just how good an actor he is. Seek this out now.

Episodes:

Fun and (S)Laughter

Directed by: Rowan Joffe; Cinematographer: Dale McCready

The Kid

Directed by: Marc Jobst; Cinematographer: Paul Sarossy

Comfort of Strangers

Directed by: Alice Troughton; Cinematographer: Dale McCready

Jack

Directed by: Marc Jobst; Cinematographer: Paul Sarossy

Bait

Directed by: Alice Troughton; Cinematographer: Dale McCready

Exposure

Directed by: Grant Harvey; Cinematographer: Paul Sarossy

Exposure

Directed by: Giles Bannier; Cinematographer: Dale McCready

This be the Verse

Directed by: Grant Harvey; Cinematographer: Dale McCready

Fortunate Boy

Directed by: Craig Viveiros; Cinematographer: Dale McCready

My Love is Vengeance

Directed by: Giles Bannier; Cinematographer: Dale McCready

“Tin Star” is available now on DVD.

DVD review: “Tin Star” (2017) “Tin Star” (2017) Drama 10 Episodes Produced & Created by: Rowan Joffe Featuring: Tim Roth, Christina Hendricks, Leanne Best, Christopher Heyerdahl, Roark Critchlow…

#Christina Hendricks #Christopher Heyerdahl #dvd #dvd review #DVD reviews #DVDReviews #Leanne Best #Roark Critchlow #Rowan Joffe #tim roth #tin star #tin star dvd #tin star dvd review #tin star review

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legendary · 8 years ago

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Creating a World of Witches and Wonder

A Conversation with Firebrand's Jessica Chobot, Erika Lewis, and Claudia Aguirre.

Firebrand, the latest original title from Legendary Comics is heading into the home stretch of its inaugural run on digital comics platform, LINE Webtoon. The weekly series follows teenage witch Natali Presano as she comes to terms with her role in a supernatural war, while dealing with the everyday pressures of young adulthood. Firebrand is the brainchild of Jessica Chobot and Erika Lewis. Chobot is best known as host for Nerdist News. Before joining Nerdist, she was a host and recurring personality on IGN and G4. Lewis has made a name for herself as a young adult and fantasy author with her work Game of Shadows, and The 49th Key, in addition to Firebrand. “Jessica Chobot has been such a huge part of the Legendary family for years,” said Robert Napton, Vice President and Editorial Director of Legendary Comics. “We were so thrilled to have an opportunity to support her exploration of a new creative venture and we know that she and Erika Lewis have created a truly compelling new heroine and story that fans will truly become immersed in.” Legendary Backstory had the opportunity to talk with Chobot, Lewis, and artist Claudia Aguirre about the exciting new series as it heads into the second half of its season. See what they had to say about creating the comic below!

Q: As an intro, can you tell the readers a little bit about what Firebrand is all about and talk about the process in which it’s come to fruition. Where did the idea originate from, how did it develop, how did each of you become involved and come together to create it, etc.?

JC: You know, Firebrand is sort of a combination of a coming of age story and a traditional hero’s journey. At its heart, it’s really about a young woman who we’ve seen growing up, who basically just never felt like she belonged anywhere. This was actually an idea that Erika had that she came to me with one day when we were just talking and hanging out. We started volleying ideas back and forth and eventually realized we should do something with this because it started to grow so quickly during that first conversation. So we just started meeting up after that and exchanging ideas and characters and relationships. Eventually it really felt like we had something and we wanted to shop it around and obviously one of the first places we went to was Legendary. EL: Jessica and I worked together at G4 and both had obsessions with witches and magic and all things insane. But for me, I’m obsessed with ancient myths and legends, especially when it comes to magic in different places around the world. Basque is such a unique place and culture and really unlike anything else around it. I did a lot of research into pre-Christianity times in Basque, finding timeless myths. We hope to bring to pieces of them to life in a very unique Erika-Jessica-Claudia type of way. I saw (artist) Claudia Aguirre’s work at another publisher and I was so impressed, and was like ‘oh, how cool it would be to have three women!’ So (Legendary Comics’) Robert Napton got in touch with Claudia and thankfully she was excited about the idea!

Q: Claudia, can you talk about the process in designing the look of Firebrand from early sketches to the finished art?

CA: Well, the creative process for me is like a movie in my head. Jessica and Erika are great. They are very, very cinematic in what they describe so I can see it in my head. I initially try to make sense of my own idea and I do some thumbnailing on paper and try to make it look really cool. Then, I start translating that onto the computer, so I’ll draw it and show everything to the team. They’ll tell me if it doesn’t work and give me feedback. After that, I do the inking process and then the colors too.

Q: Which real stories and history (if any) did you pull from to inspire the style of witchcraft/characterization of the Sorgin in the series? Are there references to any of these in the story or in the artwork?

EL: Historically speaking, the Spanish Inquisitions have been incorporated into the backstory of "Sorgin" mythology, our fictional universe. The inquisitions put paganism on trial during the spread of Christianity in Western Europe. Although you can find a good deal about the Spanish Inquisitions and witch trials, the specific story we tell in Firebrand is something Jessica and I made up. CA: For the art, there is definitely a strong influence from Spain, the border between Spain and France. It’s definitely a process of trying to piece things together to make a whole universe that isn’t there. It’s quite fun.

Q: It’s evident that Natali Presano is a badass. How important is it to have kickass female protagonists like Natali in comics? Are there any comic characters out there that you drew inspiration from in fleshing her character out?

JC: It’s always been important, and we’ve always tackled the story with Natali being a character with a lot of self-sufficiency. But, with how things stand in the U.S., it feels even more important right now. Not only to have that represented for women and girls, but really for anybody who feels left out from “average society." It’s helpful to have a character that shows, if you are true to yourself, you can utilize your power to get through tough times. You can be admired and I think that is so important to have that in a character right now. EL: Absolutely. When Natali sees a wrong, she wants to right it. She wants to do the right thing. But sometimes what she wants to do butts up against Sorgin law, and causes her to get in trouble. Not that it would ever stop her. Deep down inside, she has what it takes character to do the right thing and stand up for what she believes is fair. CA: We always needed people like Natali in comics - we need to not feel alone. For people who feel alone or have been through things, it is important to have these characters portrayed. We have the opportunity to be someone who makes a difference, so we have to make use of it.

Q: Going back to the artwork, it features a cool contrast between the realism of the human world in Washington that Natali comes from and the more fantastical setting of Eder. Claudia, what went into imagining and designing both settings and what key differences did you want Eder to have to set it apart from the human world?

CA: Well, I tried to make the culture. I sadly couldn’t find much in history before Christianity, so I found out a little of their principles and dialect and some stone monuments that they had. Essentially, I took a little of all of this and tried to make an evolving city of Eder. I tried to stay away from the Stone Age so I could make it a little more medieval. I could Google Map a lot of the places in Seattle, so that made that setting easier to do. But the main expansion for me was to try and make it a bit more magical. I tried to make the magical more blueish and the realistic setting of Seattle more grey.

Q: Were there elements of your own lives that you drew from to go into the story or even into the artwork?

EL: On the story side, I will say that for me, I am from D.C. and grew up in a politically charged environment. A very argumentative atmosphere. The kind of place you either love or hate. Also I am from a divorced family. Some of the characters may have been developed around real people. Also, I understand Natali's need to want to feel accepted for who she is, to be a part of a family that allows her to be herself, because I never felt like I fit in anywhere. JC: I guess for me, it wasn’t too specific besides growing up and being interested in the paranormal and the occult and being the weird girl at school. I was kind of shunned by a lot of the kids growing up, so for me it was a matter of identifying as not part of the group mantra. Also though, as I grow up, realizing that there isn’t anything wrong with me, it is just what I like. So that is what I think I brought to Natali in a little bit of a subconscious way.

Q: The “direct address” to the reader style of narration is a cool device that makes the story feel almost interactive in a way, drawing the reader in and directly questioning them. How did you decide on that and what do you think it brings to the storytelling?

JC: Well, we didn’t start with that in the beginning - we had a traditional approach. But we decided to bring in Natali’s voice, because we wanted to break the fourth wall and feel more invested by having Natali talk more to them. EL: She is sarcastic at times, and very powerful. The real parts of her, like everyone, can be insecure and afraid and we try to really humanize her and let people into the fact that she isn’t necessarily what she puts out to the world. All of those things surrounding Natali, her internal voice, we were hoping to give people an insight into who she truly is.

Q: The series is at times hilarious and at times deals with some pretty dark themes. How do you walk that tricky tightrope in the writing and the tone to maintain that balance?

JC: It is a fine line, especially if you have a younger audience. However, these things really happen, so sugarcoating it isn’t necessarily a great thing to do either. So, drawing on all of the traumatic experiences of Natali’s we really wanted to approach all of them from the best angle we could. We wanted to give the backstory and make it relatable, but not turn off the readership by going overboard. These are all issues kids and families deal with growing up, so we wanted to address them but remain respectful. EL: You can see in the comments on each issue: people talk about things they go through. With Natali specifically, the balance of keeping the comic relief but also the dark tones, the greatest thing was using that inner voice and letting the reader into her head; knowing when she was excited, or feeling sarcastic or funny. We tried to make it palatable. We tried to do moments of light-heartedness, especially during those first few chapters.

Catch up on Firebrand's entire first season before new issues are releasedevery Wednesday over at LINE Webtoon

#Worlds

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diddlesanddoodles · 8 years ago

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BITTER LEMONS MAKE (GT/Fantasy)

Prologue to Salted Lemonade.

This monstrosity is a bit shy of 16,000 words. Holy biscuits. I decided to upload the prologue as one big story rather than into short chapters as I originally intended for the sake of simplicity and because I don’t have the patience to upload another story via separate chapters. Also, I am a person who appreciates a good long read, especially GT stories since many tend o be short. And I hope the people who do read my stories appreciate it as well. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it.

The changing of the leaves brought the first frost of the coming season as well as excited talk of costumes and candy and parties. Recess was spent ogling over the newly released Party City costume insert from last Sunday’s newspaper and fervent discussions on who would go as what or as who. Most of the girls in her class were all fawning over the newest Disney Princess costume. The deluxe one that came with the nicer wig and accessories with a price tag to match. Astrid wanted to be a zombie. Not a princess or something girly like that. A proper and true zombie with blood and guts and lots of cool make up.

But her Mother did not like her daughter’s idea and had been not so subtly suggesting she pick something with more frills and skirts and sequins. To which Astrid had cheekily suggested that she could go as Mrs. Lovette. Her mother shot down the idea after doing a google search on the character.

So as the number 24 bus drove down W. Gulliver Blvd, Astrid was in deep thought about her costume choices. She did not want to go door to door dressed as a floofy cupcake like every other girl in town. Every Halloween since she could rightly remember, Astrid had gone with whatever costume idea her mother had. She never had anything against them because they were always funny or unique. But this year, her mother seemed determined to see her daughter in a puffy pink dress parading around like the Princess of Prussia. All Astrid wanted to be was an undead brain eating monster. Maybe they could compromise and she could be a Zombie princess.

She was jarred from her thoughts when the bus slowed and stopped. Looking up, she saw Rosita’s diner and the shell gas station, a full three blocks from the next bus stop. Her bus stop. A crack of static from the loud speaker drew the attention of the bus passengers and the driver’s voice spoke out.

“Attention all Jessup Road passengers. We got construction on Herald Circle and a wreck blocking Main street, so I’m afraid I’ll be having to drop you off here. Come see me up to the front when disembarking and I shall issue you a refund receipt.”

With a sigh, Astrid pulled on her jacket and slipped her yellow backpack onto her shoulders before slipping off the hard plastic seat, standing aside as a young man in a high school jersey nudged passed her. Following the young man, an elderly woman with a two wheeled hand cart filled with groceries, and a businessman with a cell phone pressed to his ear, Astrid collected her refund receipt.

His bored and lazy expression sharpened into something resembling mild concern s as Astrid waited, hand outstretched for her receipt.

“You live close by, kid?” he asked.

“Yeah. Off of Comly.”

“Oh, okay. Well, tell your folks to go to that URL on the back and sign into your account. Follow the prompts and put in that code, it’ll refund your buss pass,” said the driver, handing her a small slip of paper. She muttered a quiet thank you and stepped off the warm bus into the chilly air. She could cut through the strip mall and walk down Forrest St and walk straight into her backyard. She would be home in five minutes.

The young man in the high school jersey and matching jacket seemed to have had the same idea and was heading towards the strip mall. He had paused by the window to the Hibbett’s Sports and by the time he had moved on, Astrid had caught up, passing him by. After the Michael’s craft store, there was the large expansive overflow parking lot. There was a few semi trucks parked off to the side and a few employee cars, but it was mostly empty. The high school boy’s legs were much longer than her own and by the time they were almost half way across the asphalt, he had passed her again. He flashed her a smarmy lopsided grin. Astrid scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at the back of his head.

Under her sneakers, the ground shivered. Stopping, Astrid looked around her and hearing something jingle, she looked up at the light post. She could see it sway slightly. The young man had stopped too and was glancing around curiously.

“Oh man,” he said with an excited grin. “That was an earthquake!”

The ground shivered again. And bucked. And swayed. Astrid cried out as she fell to her knees, unable to keep on her feet as everything that should not be moving was moving.

“Ah, cool!” yelled the older boy, his excitement was nearly palpable. “This is awesome!”

Astrid was no where near as excited as he was at experiencing her first earthquake. There was nothing as sturdy and as present and solid as the ground a person walked on and to feel it move and buck like a horse was terrifying. And she would very much like for it to stop.

However, instead of complying to the wishes of a fourth grader, it got worse. There was a crack like the sound of a whip somewhere nearby, and the wind started to kick up. Astrid watched the dirt and small rocks fly about in the wind as it began to turn and twist and there came a sudden shift in the strength of the wind’s spin. She felt herself sliding as the twisting air pulled at her. Her bare hands batted feebly at the ground, trying to find purchase. She heard the older boy scream as he lost his balance and fell hard on the ground and too began to slid towards the eye of the cyclone. Their fear filled eyes met for the briefest of moments before the surface below them dropped away and the pair fell into the nothingness.

…………….

The nothingness gave way to sound and air and an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. She gasped for breath and tumbled into the dirt. She heard the sound of someone gasping loudly and suspected it to be the older boy.

“Uuugh,” he muttered. “Augh, my chest.”

She whined in feeble agreement, rubbing her sternum as she pushed up from the ground. It felt as though someone had punched her. There was a pungent smell of pine that greeted her next inhale of air and she raised her head, curious. Her stomach clenched. All around were trees taller than any she had ever seen. The seemed to stretch high above them like hands reaching up to block the sky. Their sharp needled branches, looking like tiny clawed fingers against the orange light of the dying sun.

Wait. Sunset? Astrid glanced at her cell phone. 3:22 PM. And no signal. The strip mall was no where in sight. In fact, the only thing she could see were the huge trees. Trees and dirt and rocks.

“Where the hell...?” asked the boy aloud, sitting up from where he had been laying. “Crap...these trees are freakin’ huge!”

Carefully pulling herself up from the dirt, Astrid rose to her feet and winced against several new aches. Her backpack was a familiar and comforting weight against her back and shoulders.

“Hey. Do you have a cell phone, kid?” The boy asked. In his hands, he held a thin white iphone.

“Yeah,” she replied, flashing him a small black brick that was her prepaid Nokia. “But no bars.”

“Me neither. Damn,” he replied, glaring at the useless piece of metal in his hands. “Well. This day has been very weird.”

Astrid nodded numbly, still starring at the trees and wondering how such giant things could exist. And a though struck her.

“I think I know where we are!” She exclaimed, excited at her genius.

“Where?” asked the boy, a hopeful glint in his brown eyes.

“California!”

The hopeful glint was replaced with an incredulous raising of an eyebrow. “California.”

“Yeah.”

“Suuuure. We just magically popped across the country. California is like...500 miles away!”

“But the trees,” she replied with a huff. “They’re big.”

“I noticed that.”

“And they have big trees in California.”

A spark of recognition hit him. “Oh! The redwoods!”

“Yeah!”

“Hey, you might not be wrong,” he replied. “But still. How the hell did we get to California?”

………………………………..

If she thought the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her was being magically being tossed across the country, Astrid was in for a troubling development. In the form of a thirty foot fence.

After several moments of standing around uselessly with plenty of indecisive grumbling as to what to do, they ultimately decided to pick a direction and start walking for as long as the light held out. Despite conventional wisdom telling them that it would have been better to stay where they were. They reasoned that no one would be searching for them in the Redwood nation forest when they would be reported missing several states away. So best go find a park ranger or something. Before it got dark.

So when their path was abruptly blocked by what appeared to them as a wall of chicken wire, they were confused.

“Who builds such a huge fence out of chicken wire?” the boy, Tommy, mused bitterly. Astrid ran two fingers along the metal. The wire itself was thick. Thicker that the power cord to her Grandpa’s shop vac and though the weave of the metal did resemble chicken wire, it was much sturdier and did not have near the give and sway that she normally associated it. “Damn, this thing’s tall too.”

“What do we do?” Astrid asked, starting to feel sweaty and dirty. A hot bath sounded good. And a sandwich. She was getting hungry.

“I say we follow it,” Tommy shrugged. “I mean, it’s gotta lead somewhere right?”

It was starting to get dark and the temperature was dropping fast. Her plush red flannel jacket was keeping her warm enough, but her face was chilled and she was rubbing feeling back into her nose and cheeks. The denim of her jeans was stiffening in the cold. She followed after Tommy as he continued on down the fence line. After about an hour, she noticed to her other side more fencing. They seemed to be coming to a point where the fences met.

“Hey, look!” Tommy exclaimed, pointing ahead. “There’s a gap there.”

Sure enough, just where one would expect the two fences to meet was a generous sized gap. A gate perhaps? Tommy jogged ahead, leaving Astrid to toddle along behind. The boy’s long legs brought him quickly over to the gap, kicking up forest debris as he went. Astrid saw the faint orange light of the setting sun bounce off a reflective surface, hidden under pine needles and dirt. Curious, she walked over to it and as she got close enough to see that it was indeed metal, there was a faint clink from under her sneaker and there came a horrendous crashing of metal and screaming hinges. She screamed as walls rose from from every direction and snapped shut, tossing Astrid backwards. Her shoulders slammed into metal bars.

“What the crap was that?!” Tommy yelled, whirling around. His eyed widened. “Holy-! Oh god, are you okay?!”

Astrid’s entire field of vision was framed by bars. Metal bars. Cage bars. It was a cage. She was in a cage. It took several long moments for this fact to sink in and Tommy was already at the cage, pulling on what he assumed to be a door. There was a huge bolt keeping it closed. Four feet long and several inches thick. It looked as though it could weigh an easy 100 lbs. No matter how hard Tommy yanked on it, it would not move.

Astrid was on her feet, pulling and pushing every piece that looked like it might move. But nothing did. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of blue light, startling both of them. Atop the cage was a blue light that blinked and fluttered like a police car light.

“Please, get me out!” Astrid pleaded. The belated sense of panic was taking root in her mind now. It had been easy to be enthralled by the bizarre circumstances, let the novelty and wonder take precedent. But now accumulating evidence was beginning to leave her terrified. The trees were huge. The fence was huge. This cage was huge. She felt small and helpless. She wanted out. She wanted to go home.

“I don’t want to be here anymore! I want to go home!” Astrid cried.

Tommy bent down to her level, looking at her through the bars. He looked almost as terrified as she felt. “Look, just...uh, calm down. Okay? You’re gonna be fine. I’m gonna...” he trialed off, looking around hopelessly and then up at the blinking light. “I’m gonna try and find someone...I’ll...”

He stepped back, starring at the sky. His own sense of wonder and awe was gone as well. Replaced by panic and fear.

“HELP!” He screamed up at the sky. “SOMEBODY! PLEASE!”

“Help!” Astrid added, though she could not manage near the volume.

“ANYBODY OUT THERE?” Tommy yelled.

They carried on for a good while, screaming at empty air for help. But then, from the near silent forest came a familiar sound. A welcomed sound. Foot steps. The wave of relief was acutely palpable and Astrid almost sobbed in relief.

“Hello!” Tommy yelled, walking towards the sound. “Is somebody there?”

“Aye. That’d be me,” replied a calm voice. It echoed oddly, but both Tommy and Astrid were so relieved to have finally been found to notice. The prospect of going home filled Astrid and her face broke out into a wide happy grin. She would go home and tell her mother that she would gladly wear the gaudiest, fluffiest, pinkest princess dress she could find and go trick or treating with a skip in her step.

Tommy was almost laughing with relief. “Mind giving us a hand? Some freaking nutcase set these giant traps and my friend’s stuck inside.”

There was a laugh, a low chuckle, and the foot steps got closer and closer. And louder and louder. A dark shape amongst the trees drew their focus. It was large. Tall. Impossibly tall. The footfalls were much louder now and tremors shook the ground.

The joy of being found was starting to fade and uncertainty took hold. Fear bubbled back.

The dark shape stepped up to the gap in the fence and the dying light cast them in a deep orange light. It was man like in body, but in size it was monstrous. As she starred, everything seemed to suddenly click in Astrid’s mind. The impossibly tall trees. The thirty foot fence. This absurd cage she was trapped in. And now, a mere 100 meters away, stood a giant.

An honest to goodness giant.

He was slightly shorter than the fence, but not by much. Easily twenty something feet. Appearing middle aged with brown hair and dull gray eyes. His ears were large and laughably shaped with shared similarities to those of an elf. He was dressed in a long dark coat with something strung across his back and at his side was what appeared to be a dog. An eight foot tall dog. Lithe and thin snouted with long shaggy black fur and piercingly blue eyes. It sat on its haunches, calmly watching. “Sorry to put a damper on things, little fella...”

Both Tommy and Astrid froze and their eyes widened as their brains struggled to process what they were seeing.

“But, y’see,” continued the giant with a smirk, flashing a set of wickedly sharp canines. “I’d be that freakin’ nutcase who set them traps.”

An alarming sense of nausea took over everything. Astrid felt like her insides were being pulled down to the bottom of her feet. Adrenaline sparked through her limbs, making her hands tingle. The giant was watching them, taking in their much smaller forms and smiling enigmatically all the while. The large dog at his side did not move, but its blue eyes never left their trained focus. On Tommy.

“Gotta say, you two are mighty lucky I happened by this section,” said the giant brightly as he stepped closer. Tommy visibly recoiled and took several cautious steps back. Astrid shrank back to the furthest end of the cage. The giant took little to no notice. “Don’t come down this way much anymore. Haven’t seen anything pop through here for almost a year. Figured the partition healed or something. But here you are. Heh. And two of you as well! Must’ve been quite a collapse to suck two of you lil’ snippets up in one go.”

“Look, uh...sir. We don’t want any trouble,” Tommy said, voice cracking.

“And I ain’t here to bring any to you,” replied the giant simply, his shoulders rising and falling in a lazy shrug. “So long as you cooperate, that is.”

“Please,” Tommy continued, a desperate lilt coloring his words. Worried eyes flickered over to Astrid and back to the giant, one shaky hand gesturing to the trapped girl. “Just...let her out. We’re just trying to get home, sir. We just want to go home. Please.”

The giant’s overall pleased demeanor faltered and his eyebrow narrowed every so slightly. The curl of his smile withered. “Ain’t no goin’ home for you two now. Best come to terms with that. Make it easy for yourselves.”

“W-what do you...” Tommy muttered with a narrowing of his brow and taking a deliberate step back. “ You can’t keep us here. Of course we’re going home!”

The giant regarded the pair for a moment and his expression changed to amusement. He stifled a laugh. “Not unless you figured out how to rip space and time apart, navigate the inbetween, and rearrange your own atoms back together in the proper order and in the correct location.”

Both humans were struck dumb.

“It’d be a mighty neat party trick,” added the giant. “Pay good money to see that.”

Astrid felt decidedly sick and her breathing was becoming erratic as she began to panic. Tommy did not seem much better.

“So, how about we wrap this up, hm? It’s gettin’ mighty late,” the giant said, striding purposefully towards them now. “And it’s nearly dinner time.”

Images of every monster movie she had ever seen flashed in Astrid’s head. Gnashing teeth and buckets of blood, glass shattering screams, and the long pained death throws of the doomed victims. All of it was wrapped in the form a twenty something foot man who making his way straight for them.

She turned to Tommy and yelled. “RUN!”

The older boy did not even spare her a glance before he turned and bolted away, his long legs and adrenaline filled veins carrying him far and fast in a manner of mere moments. Astrid heard the giant release a long frustrated sigh. “Silly boy.”

“Knew it,” quipped a new voice from behind the giant. But all Astrid saw was the dog.

“Tippan,” the giant said, glancing over his shoulder at the dog. “Fetch.”

“He looked like a runner,” replied the dog. Astrid had only the briefest moment to marvel, or tremble, at the prospect of a talking dog – a talking eight foot tall dog – before she watched in horror as the large hound bolted off after Tommy.

“Now then,” came the giant’s voice much closer than Astrid remembered and she turned and found him kneeling over the cage and peering down at her. “Let’s get you settled away, sweetheart.”

Astrid pressed herself into the far back corner, staring up at the enormous figure. She felt hot tears streaming down her face and her breath was caught in her throat. He dipped his shoulder and slipped off a large square pack from his back. In the dim light it was hard to really tell, but it looked like it was made of boiled red leather. On the side facing Astrid, she could see a small window cut out. It looked like something a person would carry a pet in. Or something a giant would keep captured humans in. He studied her for a moment and his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Well I’ll be damned. A kit!” said the giant in astonishment and he leaned down closer. He smiled. “Never had one fall through before. Huh. You’re just a little smidgen of a thing, aren’t you?”

“Please don’t eat me!” she begged, starring up at him with wide terrified eyes.

His grin widened and he huffed a laugh. “Eat you? Oh, sweetie. As scrumptious as you look, that’s not why I’m here.”

The large bolt that she and Tommy had struggled to move earlier was easily and effortlessly pulled out and the door popped open. A hand crept inside. Astrid curled into herself, covering her head with her arms and whimpered in sheer terror, waiting for the hand to grab her, for fingers to tear her limbs from her body, and for teeth to crush her bones.

“Aw, now. Don’t be like that, little darlin’,” said the giant. “You’re breakin’ my heart here.”

She felt something brush her side and she cried out and tried to scramble away, but large fingers easily wrapped around her and drew her out of the metal trap. Her arms were pinned to her sides, but her legs were free and she kicked uselessly at open air. The giant chortled in amusement.

“Lively one you are,” he muttered. She watched his other hand travel over to the red leather pack and peel back the flap. The inside was divided into two sections with enough room in each one for a person – a human – to stand. He then lowered Astrid into one of the compartments, closing the flap after her and sealing her in. She immediately dropped to floor and curled up. Her heart was beating so fast and it didn’t feel like she could get enough air into her lungs. From the outside, she heard a noise and the giant speak.

“Good work, Tippan.”

She could hear Tommy grunting and swearing. Astrid struggled back to her feet and pressed her face against the window cut out in the leather. There was a kind of black mesh covering the gap and the weave was large enough for her to see out.

The hound had Tommy in it’s mouth, the poor boy’s torso and legs dangling off either side while the jaws of the enormous animal were firmly clenched around his middle. Astrid wanted to scream, but she was relieved that there was no blood and Tommy did not appear to be in any pain. Mostly angry.

The giant held his hands out and the dog leaned forward and allowed the unhappy human to tumble from his mouth and into the waiting hands. Unlike Astrid, Tommy did not freeze up at the sight of the giant. He struggled and kicked and tried valiantly to pull himself from between fingers thick as man’s thigh.

“Let me go you fucking-!”

“Hey now. What happened to all them please’s and sir’s?”

“They fucked off!”

“Now, now. Calm yourself. No need to get all -OW!”

Tommy dropped to the dirt with an ‘oof!’ and was on his feet and running again, but he did not get very far, only a few feet, before the dog – Tippan - pounced on him and pinned him to the dirt. The dog gave a low growl, a warning, before lifting its head back towards its master.

“Okay there, Faro?” asked Tippan. “Did he get you good?”

“Nah. Didn’t even draw blood,” the giant, Faro, remarked and winced. “Still smarts a bit, though.”

Tippan huffed what might have been a laugh. “Serves you right for not having your gloves.”

The giant scowled at the dog while rummaging through a side pocket on the pack. He pulled out what looked like lengths of leather and something else that Astrid could not see.

“Just keep him still for me,” Faro replied as he brought the object in his hands over to the trapped human. The giant’s bulk blocked most of what he was doing, but Astrid could hear Tommy cursing and struggling. Faro seemed to be having a little trouble doing whatever it was he was doing, because he kept muttering for Tommy to calm down or to stop wiggling.

“There!” The giant exclaimed finally. Tippan stepped back and the giant turned towards the pack, granting Astrid a look a Tommy. His arms were crossed over his chest and pinned there with leather straps and the way he squirmed, Astrid assumed that they were a bit snug. But the most startling thing was not him being tied up. No. It was that contraption around his face. A small metal cage around his mouth secured with more leather straps and other bindings.

The giant had muzzled him.

“Really hate to use this thing on you, little fella,” Faro said as he lifted the forcibly pacified human. “But I can’t have you nibbling on my fingers like that.”

Tommy did not answer. He did not even swear. He looked broken. His eyes were wide and they glistened with frustrated tears. The flap above Astrid was pulled aside and she looked up to see the giant bringing Tommy over and lowering him gently down into one of the other compartments. Before the giant closed it up again, his eyes drifted over to her and settled on her for a moment. And then he closed the flap, snapping it closed. They were left in almost absolute darkness with the only light coming in from the mesh window. But by now the sun had all but set completely and whatever light was left did not make it through the mesh much at all. Astrid slid back down to the floor of the pack just as the entire thing rose into the air, tilting alarmingly to the side as the giant strung it across his back.

She hugged herself and tried to hold back a sob.

……………………………

“What is that noise?” asked an irritated Tippan.

“It’s the kit,” said Faro. “Little thing’s scared is all.”

“Well, can you get it to stop?”

“Have a heart, Tippan. She’s probably just callin’ for her Mum.”

“Well, her Mum ain’t gonna be answering.”

“The kit doesn’t know that. She’ll stop soon. Just be patient.”

Astrid ignored the two larger voices and continued sobbing into her kneecaps. The swaying and bouncing of the pack did not help and was a continued reminder of everything that had happened. She knew just on the other side of the pack was Tommy. The high school boy who had been pulled into this mess along with her. She couldn’t understand how he wasn’t audibly crying as well. The giant had sicced his hell hound after him and even muzzled him! She wanted to call out to him, ask him if he was alright, but she was afraid the giant or his hound would hear her. And in any case, Astrid was not sure she could muster coherent words at the moment.

They continued on for a good while in this manner, but as the giant had foretold to his hound, Astrid went quiet after a time. She felt everything and numb all at once. She idly wondered if this was what it felt like for your brain to break. Every physical sensation felt magnified. The sway of her cage. The texture of the pack’s lining, the smell of the air inside it, and pressure of gravity pressing down on her into the cushioned bottom. But inside, her head was alarmingly silent. No emotions were felt. No thoughts heard. Tears were drying on her face and she starred unblinking out the mesh lines window. It was too dark to see anything, but the chilled air from outside would push through ever so often and chill her face with a breezy kiss. She smelled pine and dirt and leather. Foreign and disturbing.

The trees she watched through the window were suddenly illuminated with faint yellow light that brightened the further the giant walked, approaching the source of the light.

“And here we are,” said Faro with warmth in his voice. “Home sweet home.”

“Finally,” said Tippan. “Food and sleep!”

“First thing’s first,” said Faro as Astrid heard more than saw him climb a short set of stairs. “Gotta settle the humans away.”

Tippan moaned. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? I’m tired. And hungry. Just toss ‘em in the kennel and feed me!”

The giant laughed.

“You haven’t done anything today!” There was the sound of metal clinking together that Astrid recognized as keys. She could hear him push one into what she assumed was the lock on a door. Sure enough after there came the sound of a key turning and a lock clanking and then there was the distinct sound of a door opening. She felt the back of her mind tingle as the numbness gave way to a torrent of emotions. There was fear and dread, but down below all that was a faint curiosity for which she almost felt ashamed.

“I chased down the runner,” argued Tippan, sounding hurt. “And just so you know, that one’s pretty fast. Might not have caught him so easily if he hadn’t tripped.”

“In any case, we’ll still need to settle them away first. Gotta follow protocol,” Faro replied. “I’m not gonna leave the little fella muzzled and hog-tied all night.”

“You could.”

“I’m not, though.”

“Might teach the twerp not to bite,” Tippan sighed dramatically. “Alright, boss. Have it your way.”

Astrid watched through the window as the giant walked into the house and was reminded of the time she and her family went camping in Montana. They stayed in a log cabin with walls that looked very similar to the walls of the giant’s home. Even the smell was similar. For the most part. There was an oddly sour scent to the air mixed with the smells of the natural wood that she could not place. The walls were sparsely decorated with small shelves covered in odd nick knacks. A painting of a waterfall. An elaborately made clock carved from wood and brightly painted. The numbers were replaced with strange symbols.

The pack swung sideways as the giant slipped if off and setting it down onto a table, made from the same wood as the walls. She heard the clasp on the outside snap and the flap was pulled away. Her dark corner of the pack lit up. There was a scuffling noise from the other side of the pack and she heard Tommy curse. In response, she looked up in time to see the giant pulling Tommy out. He closed the flap back down, but did not lock it.

She peered out of the window to see Faro holding Tommy in one hand so his legs dangled off the edge of the palm and supporting the human’s back with the other. The giant was looking at him sternly.

“You’re gonna behave now, aren’t you?”

She saw Tommy nod fervently.

“Good. Because I’m gonna take this off you. But believe me, if you get snippy again, I won’t hesitate to put it back on. And it won’t be coming off for a good while. Understand me?”

Again, Tommy nodded.

Faro sat Tommy down on his feet and undid the leather bindings, sliding the muzzle off. Tommy’s face was pale and his hands were shaking. The giant sat down in a chair facing Tommy, dropping the leather and muzzle into a heap off to the side. Wordlessly, he reached into his coat and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. He popped the pen’s top off, set the tip to the paper, and gazed at the trembling human.

“What’s your name, little fella?”

“T-thomas Contini, sir.”

The giant took a note, the edges of his mouth twinges in a small grin.

“How old are you, Thomas?”

“I’m seventeen, sir.”

Another note.

“Know your blood type by chance?”

“My blood…? Uh. Yeah. O negative.”

“Good,” replied the giant. “Not many of you tend to know.”

More notes.

“Any allergies?”

“N-no.”

“Illnesses?”

“No. Not really.”

“Yes or no, Thomas.”

“No. No illnesses.”

The giant was silent as he wrote several more notes, glancing up at the human ever so often as though he was not completely confident that he would not bolt at any moment.

“C-can I ask...why you want to know...all that?” Tommy stammered.

“It’s not so much as wanting to know than needing to know. For your records.”

“My...records?”

“Oh just spell it out for him,” Tippan snapped. “Sooner you’re done, the sooner I eat!”

Faro sighed as he sat the pen down and pinned the boy with a look. “Answer me this, Thomas,” he said. “Do you know where you are?”

Tommy fidgeted, looking around warily. “Uh...in your house?”

The giant grinned. “In a larger sense than that.”

“...C-california?”

The giant rolled his eyes. “No. You’re not in Kali Fonia. So many of you humans say that. I’m tempted to start keeping a count. No. You’re no longer on you’re original plane.”

“Original plane? I...I don’t understand.”

The giant leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What’s the last thing you remember before waking up in the woods?”

“There was...an earthquake and it got really windy and...”

The giant nodded. “What you experienced, Thomas, is what we here call a Partitional Rip. Or a collapse. Happens when the membranes of our mutual planes come in contact with one another repeatedly and over time the area becomes weakened and imbalanced. With all things needing to be equal, the energies must correct themselves and that is what causes a Partitional Rip. A portal opens up on your side of the plane and more often than not, one or more of you little buggers are sucked in, passed through the inbetween, and dropped down into our plane.”

Tommy looked ill as he absorbed the information. “So...when you said we weren’t going home…?”

“I meant that there’s no possible way to get you home. You’re here because cosmic energy needed to balance themselves and used you, and you’re little friend there, as counter weights.”

“So...if we’re not...on Earth, where are we?”

“Still called Earth. We never had a word for the actual world, it was just the world to us. But about, oh, three hundred years ago or so we adopted the Anglish word for it. But beyond that, in a more literal sense, you’re in Audenvier. North Audenvier, Caidence Valley. On my ranch. In my house and on my table.”

There was a pause and Tommy squinted up at Faro.

“...Anglish?”

“That’d be you. You’re Anglish.”

“Uh...I’m Italian…?”

Faro huffed a laugh. “Anglish just means you’re light skinned. As apposed to being Berunti, Piq, or Savoh.”

Tommy ran a hand through his hair and looked all around him, everywhere but the giant. Almost as though he were searching for an alternative to the piece of knowledge that Faro had just unladen upon him, his breathing became deep and near panic when none presented itself. Finally he looked to Faro, his eyes watering.

“So,” he choked. “...what happens now?”

“For you?” Faro asked, the humor gone from his eyes. “A change of clothes, something to eat, and then sleep. Actually, when we’re done here I’ll be doing those same things myself.”

“A change of clothes? W-why?”

“Part of my job is to collect anything wild humans bring in with them. Folks with long titles and expensive degrees wanna study them.”

The human was gaping incredulously at the large man across from him. “Wild?”

“Any human that comes here due to a Partitional Rip is considered wild,” he explained. “Meaning you were not born in captivity or hand raised.”

“Captivity? Like...like animals and shit?”

The giant looked exasperated for a moment and seemed to consider something. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Allow me to explain the greater idea here: on my ranch, there are seven weaken areas where collapses occur. I set up traps around those areas so when a human does pops through, I get to them before any predators do.”

“Predators? Like what-”

The giant frowned. “Don’t interrupt me, Thomas.”

“S-sorry...”

“As I was saying: I’m a human trapper. That’s what I do for a living. I bring any humans I catch back here to my house, take their basic information down like I just have with you, and get them ready to be sent to the closest clinic for further evaluation. If everything goes well there, you’ll be put up for adoption by the end of next week.”

“A-adoption?” Tommy asked, the word seemed to tumble clumsily from his lips. “You don’t mean like...a pet, do you?”

“Exactly.”

“Humans are pets here?!” Tommy looked ready to bolt again and the giant seemed to sense it too. He brought his arms to rest on either side of the distraught human. Tommy flinched at Faro’s movements and was still, standing rigid and scared as he stared into the giant’s face.

“That’s right,” he told the boy simply. “Highly prized too. The waiting lists in some counties can be astronomical to speak nothing of the vetting process. There’s an expression along the lines of it’s easier to be elected to office than to adopt a human. Hardly true, but the paperwork to be approved it quite extensive.”

“I...I...ah...I’m...” Tommy rubbed his face, struggling hard with the idea.

“It’s alright. Normal to feel oddly about it.”

“Normal to feel odd?” Tommy yelled. “That’s the most underrated statement of the year!”

“Perhaps to you at this moment. But I give this speech a few times a month. For the last fifteen years.”

“W-why though? Why pets?!”

“Long time ago, we mostly left you humans alone to do whatever you did out in the woods like any other living creature. But then your numbers started to drop and at one point there were almost no humans left at all. Disease, predators, low birth rates. It all ran a hard number on the population. Governments stepped in to try and rescue your species and over time, it evolved into a pet trade. If you get adopted by a historian, he’d be able to explain the minutia of it all. But even now human populations are still vastly smaller than they were even a hundred years ago. You’re a heavily protected species here.”

“What if I don’t want to. Be a pet, I mean. Do I get any say in this?”

“You wanna go try and live out in the woods on your own?” The giant seemed very amused a this idea. “You don’t strike me as very outdoorsy. Ever meet a Rhwren? Or a Mountain Roc? Because they’d be very happy to meet you. And the feeling won’t be mutual.”

“I guess they’re those predators you mentioned earlier?”

“Yup. They’d swallow a little thing like you up without a second thought.”

“I just...really do not like the idea of being someone’s pet.”

“I will never understand you wild humans aversion to the idea,” Tipppan added from somewhere below the table. “Being a pet’s great. Free food, warm bed, and belly rubs! What is to hate about that?”

“It’s a perfectly normal response, Tippan. Most wild humans hate the idea, at first at least. A certain portion of you fail the evaluation to be adopted in any case.”

The human boy looked ready to faint. “What happens when you fail an evaluation?”

The giant chuckled and raised a hand slowly up towards Tommy and lightly petted him on the head. Tommy, for his part, looked utterly lost as to how to respond and ended up merely allowing the contact, but went absolutely rigid under the giant finger’s ministrations.

“Oh, don’t look so forlorn,” said the giant. “Nothing bad. Typically, they’re sent to a zoo or a sanctuary. And getting back to the changing clothes, we do this for two reasons. The first being what I said about folks wanting to study it. Second, is to help with your transition. Make the break a little easier.”

“I...I don’t understand. I’m sorry, but I...” The giant’s hand was still at his head, lightly petting the messy mop of dark hair. Faro’s dull gray eyes stared at the boy, looking sympathetic, but there was something in his expression that made it seem like he was very accustomed to consoling overwrought humans.

“The kindest thing I can do for you right now, Thomas, is to get you prepared for the next step. The life you knew when you woke up this morning is gone. Forever. And you can think me cruel for saying so. Plenty of humans have and do. After all, I am paid to catch and sell you lot. No use mincing words or dancing around the truth of it. You’re not the first human to take a nip at me. Or even the worst, not by a long shot.” The giant used the crook of one finger to gently brush back Tommy’s hair. “But you’re still young. Young ones bounce back easier. You have a good chance to to get into a good home with a good family and find some peace in all this. Just try and keep that in mind as you go through all these steps.”

Tommy’s shoulder shook as he began to sob. “So...it’s real. This is really happening. I’m never gonna see my family again, am I? Ever?”

“No,” was the simple response. “I’m afraid not.”

…………………..

Tommy was near inconsolable for several moments. While the boy broke down on the table top, the giant got up and disappeared for a few minutes before returning with some items. He sat them down in front of Tommy.

“I know you’re feeling poorly right now,” said the giant. “And truth be told, you’ll feel like this for a good while. No one thinks this is an easy process for you. Certainly not me. But the sooner we get on, the sooner you get something to eat and then its off to bed. Might not sleep much, but you’ll have a quiet moment to sort out yourself. I’ll need you to remove your clothes, though. Got something here for you to change into. It gets cold here and this’ll keep you warm.”

Tommy looked like he wanted to protest, a bubble of indignation rising up, but it was quickly swarmed by utter despair. With slow, reluctant movements, he began to shed his jacket, his jersey, and then his jeans before putting them into a small bag the giant held open for him. His cell phone went in as well his wallet and a pack of unopened gum. Soon he was standing there in only a pair of blue boxers, looking up at the giant expectantly.

Faro shook his head. “All of it, Thomas.”

The boy blanched and began to stammer. “I-I can’t even keep my damn underwear?!”

“Afraid not.”

For a moment, indignation won out over fear and he was angrily muttering to himself, looking all around and back at the giant, his face red. “W-well, can you at least turn around? Let me keep some shred of my dignity? Or does that go in the bag too?”

“That much I can do,” replied the giant, grinning. He reached over to the pile of items and pulled out a single garment, dyed black. “Put this on when you’re done.”

Tommy was beet red in the face as he quickly ripped off his boxers and kicked them off before hurriedly scampering into the new clothes. It took his a moment to figure out the zipper as it was not where he expected it to be. Instead of down the front or up the back, it ran the length of the inside of one leg, across the groin, and down the other. After he finished zipping it up, he rolled his boxers into a ball and angrily shoved them into the bag with the rest of his belongings. He starred at the contents of the bag, looking torn. He sighed heavily.

“Done,” he said lowly.

The giant turned around and spared the boy a smile. He grabbed up the bag and pulled a white adhesive strip from the side before folding the top over and sealing it, quickly writing something on the outside of the bag before dropping it somewhere out of sight. Bending down closer to Tommy’s level, he regarded the freshly dressed boy. “Just remember what I told you and you’ll be fine. Might seem bad now. But trust me. It’ll get better.”

“Doesn’t look like I got much choice,” Tommy replied dejectedly.

The giant just sighed and stood back up to his full height, hands reaching out for the human once more. Tommy looked nervous at the giant hands, but did not struggle when they carefully gathered him up.

The giant strode away from the table and disappeared beyond Astrid’s range of sight.

……………….

Astrid remained silent and still at the bottom of the pack compartment. There was an unpleasant tightness in her chest and every breath she took seemed to send shivers down her body. Faro’s words echoed hauntingly in her head.

Fifteen or so minutes later, the giant returned. He was balancing two white plates in one arm while the other held onto a bundle of white fabric. With careful movements, he set the plates down first and then the bundle. One plate was piled high with a mysterious goopy meat mixture and the other was a slice of dark bread, two oily fish, and the biggest lemon Astrid had ever laid eyes on, three times the size of a large watermelon easily. The giant picked the plate with the goopy meat mixture and sat it on the floor.

“Finally!” Tippan said happily and there came the sound of joyous gluttony from below the table. “Food, food, food! Oh glorious food!”

Faro chuckled as he turned his attention to the red leather pack.

“Now it’s your turn, little one,” said the giant and he pulled the flap open and peered inside. Astrid did not meet his gaze, but sniffed miserably as she fought back more tears. She felt the heat of his hands first and then the meaty flesh as it curved around her and lifted her up with a careful and deliberate slowness. He sat her down on the table just as he had with Tommy and Astrid got her first proper view of the cabin. It was not a large space compared to the giant that lived there, but there was an unmistakably homey feeling about it. Off in one corner there was a stone fireplace and a large squishy chair. A shelf with a modest collection of books and assorted chachkies. A short hallway lead further into the house.

She heard him sit down and it was only then that she looked up. Now that she got a proper look at him in adequate light, she noted that his brown hair had streaks of gray in it and his chin was scratchy with stubble. His gray eyes were trained on her and she noted the minute movements of the irises as he studied her. Releasing a sigh through his nose, the giant tilted his head at her. “You heard all I told Thomas?”

She nodded meekly.

“Have any questions?”

She sucked in a breath, preparing to answer, but thought better of it and released it as a resigned sigh. Questions. She had millions. And none at the same time. Astrid shook her head. Faro nodded knowingly and reached for the pen and paper once more.

“Well, I’m gonna be askin’ you the same questions, alright? So, let’s start with the easiest one: What’s you’re name?”

“...Astrid,” she replied, her voice barely a squeak.

“Need your full name, sweetie.”

“Astrid Malloy.”

“And how old are you, Astrid?”

“Ten and a quarter.”

The giant paused to look at her and for the first time, seemed surprised and genuinely sad.

“Younger than I thought. Hm.” He made an extra line of notes, reaching over to his plate and grabbing the lemon. Astrid watched in confusion as he took a large bite out of it, flashing his sharp teeth for a moment before they sunk into the yellow flesh of the fruit. His face did not pucker in the slightest. He chewed for several moments, gazing at his notes, deep in thought, before swallowing and asking, “Do you know what blood type you are?”

She shook her head, still watching in bizarre fascination. The giant nodded, setting the fruit down. “Alright. Well, I will need to know. So for us to find out, we’re gonna use this here.”

He pulled out a small egg shaped device from the pile of items he had brought in before. It was the size of a basketball with a small hole on one end and a digital read out on the other. He held it out in front of Astrid. “See that little hole there? Just put your index finger inside and the machine will do the rest.”

Astrid looked at the device and carefully raised her hand towards it and stuck her finger in the aforementioned hole. Something sharp abruptly stabbed the soft pad of her finger and she yelped and pull her hand away. The tip of her finger was bleeding from a pin prick sized hole. She immediately stuck the wounded digit into her mouth and glared up at the giant, but his attention was drawn to the small read out on the device. It beeped twice.

“Type A positive,” he remarked aloud. “A good thing for you to know off the top of your head. That way if someone needs to know, they won’t have to prick your finger again.”

He added another line of notes and taking another bite of the lemon. Astrid wondered if maybe the fruit only looked like a lemon. Because who in their right mind would eat a lemon by itself, peel and all?

“Alright, next one: any allergies?”

“Um. Pollen, but only sometimes. I don’t take any medicine for it.”

“Illnesses?”

“No.” A pause. She had to ask. “Why are you eating a lemon?”

The giant’s eyebrows shot up, surprised at the question. He smile and shrugged as he jotted down his notes. “Because I like lemons. Don’t you?”

“Not by themselves. They’re too sour.”

“I like sour things,” the giant replied in amusement. “Most Feirgians do. Sour, salty, bitter, and pickled things. Like these pickled fish here. We love’em.”

Astrid was now certain that the oddly sour smell she had detected earlier had been pickled fish. Being within such close proximity to the plate of the oily, wrinkly skinned fish, the smell was much more acute. It bordered on being unpleasant, but it was mostly just odd. She looked at Faro curiously. “W-what’s a fair-shen?”

“Feirgian,” he corrected patiently. “And that’d be me. I’m a Feirgian.”

“Oh.” It was an answer that did not seem to answer anything at all.

Faro put his pen down and propped his head in one hand, regarding the young human with amusement. “What did you think I was?”

“A giant,” she replied simply. “But you’re ears are pointed.”

“You’re quite the sharp one, Astrid,” he replied. He turned his head and ran a finger along the top ridge of his ear. “Feirgians all have ears like this. Helps us hear really good. That’s how I was able to hear your hollering from so far away.”

Astrid nodded absently. “And you don’t eat people...right?”

Faro laughed. “No, Feirgians most certainly do not eat humans. Me included.”

“Oh. Good. I was worried.”

“And why’s that? Because I’m big?”

“...and you have really sharp teeth.”

“Need them to eat lemons.”

“I...guess?”

Faro laughed again.

“Okay. So, I’ve got your basic info,” the giant said, picking up the pen and finishing the last few notes. “All done with that. Now, Astrid, do you remember what I said about not being able to keep your things?”

Astrid gripped the straps of her backpack in response, feeling her gut tighten. “Yeah, but...can’t I just-”

“No,” said the giant flatly. Astrid looked up, biting her lip. Faro narrowed his eyes. “Now, don’t go giving me that long face. You’re cute, kichtein, I’ll give you that. But I’ve got rules I have to follow. I’d lose my license if I broke them.”

“Not even my books?”

“Not even your books.”

She pulled off her backpack and unzipped it, peering inside. The smell of school wafted up from inside it. Pencil shavings, pages of her text books, and the lingering smell of the banana that she had brought in her lunch bag. She pulled out her homework folder and opened it. Her math homework was half done. There was a science worksheet that she had gotten a B plus on. A flier for the school Halloween party. Putting away the folder, she reached inside again and pulled out her Hello Kitty pencil case, her history text book, her grammar work book and a library book she had been meaning to return. It was already a day over due. Crumbled at the bottom of her bag was the Party City costume circular, a zombie outfit circled in sharpie. She looked at it for only a moment before shoving it and everything else back inside and zipping it closed. She shoved it forward, tears dripping off her chin, and watched as large fingers plucked it up from the table and slipped it into the plastic bag just as he had with Thomas’s things.

There was a heavy moment when no one said anything. And then finally...

“My Mom wanted me to be a princess,” she said, staring at nothing in particular. “For Halloween. But I didn’t want to because all the other girls in my class were going to be princesses. I wanted to be something scary like a zombie. Because Princesses never win the costume contests. And I really wanted to win this year. I never win anything.”

The giant listened, watching the small human as she seemingly rambled about nonsense.

“This morning,” she continued. “I got mad at my Mom because she hated my costume ideas. I called her a mean name and went to school. I didn’t tell her goodbye like I always do or that I love her...”

Fat droplets fell from her chin and she hiccuped as her words unraveled into outright sobs. “I wish I could tell her I was sorry. I don’t care about the costumes anymore. I just want to say I’m sorry...”

Covering her face with her hands, she cried. For her Mom. Her Dad. Her grandparents and uncle and aunts. The nice neighbor lady who would give them vegetables from her garden and who had taught Astrid how to prune roses. Her room, her bed. The toys in the toy chest, the clothes in her closet. The lumpy sofa in the living room that still smelled like dog pee, even years after the death of their elderly Labrador. Her house. Her town. Her world. She was being told she had to leave it all. Shed it from her body, peel it all away, and drop it into a plastic bag. Like it was a dead thing.

“I hope you believe me,” Faro said gently. “When I say that if there was any possible way to get you home, I’d get you there. It’s always a sad thing to see young humans fall through. Even worse that you’re only a kichtein.”

She felt his finger brush the top of her head and she lifted her gaze to met his eyes. “But you can certainly believe me in this, little one: you’re going to be just fine. I know you’re mighty scared and you miss your folks. It’s natural to feel that way and I’m sure they’re gonna miss you to pieces, worrying about where you went and if you’re safe. And you are. Because it’s not just my job, but my moral responsibility to make sure you stay safe and sound. For as long as you’re in my custody. You and Thomas both. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

“W-what’s gonna happen to us?” she asked thickly, brushing tears from her cheeks and chin. “Y-you said that humans are pets and...”

“Tomorrow, I’ll be taking you both to the local clinic. There’s some nice folks there who are gonna make sure you’re healthy. Get you ready to go to new homes.

“But sometimes people aren’t nice to their pets,” she mumbled. “What if..?”

“Gonna stop you right there, sweetie,” Faro said. He used the crook of a finger and lifted her chin up and giving her a warm smile. “Moral responsibility, remember that? Not just me, but all folks who work with humans. Lots of the folks at the clinic are volunteers who are there to make sure that if you’re adopted, that you go to a good home. With good people. Because they care. And with you being a kit, they’re gonna make darn sure whoever might adopt you is a good person. So in that, you don’t have to be afraid. Okay?”

She took in a shuddering breath. “Mm-hm.”

Faro brought out another of the same clothing that Thomas had changed into. It resembled footie pajamas to her, with the zipper around the inside of the legs. It was made of black flannel and the inside was lined with soft fleece.

“This is the smallest one I got,” Faro was saying. “I’ve never had a kichtein come through my ranch before. My neighbor’s caught a few over the years, but none as young as you, I don’t think. So this might be a tad loose on you.”

He handed it to her and she took it tentatively. She met his gaze. “What’s that word mean? The weird one you keep calling me?”

“Kichtein?” he asked. “It’s the Feirgish word for a young human.”

“The literal translation is ‘little squeaker’,” came Tippan’s voice, once more from below the table. “Because you’re little and you squeak.”

Astrid mad a face. “I don’t squeak.”

“My ears say otherwise. Kichtein.”

“Alright,” Faro said sternly, though he wore a small grin. “Enough, Tippan.”

“What? She asked.”

Faro gave her a small nod of encouragement. “Go on, Astrid.”

As soon as he turned his back to grant her some privacy, Astrid slipped out of her clothes.

“Remember, Astrid. All of it.”

“...I remember.”

She added her underwear to the pile of clothes and pulled the black pajamas over her head, pushed her head and arms through the appropriate holes, and zipped up the bottom. “It’s a little big,” she said.

Faro turned back around and snickered. “Aye,” he agreed. “Just a tad.”

It was several sized too large for her. It might have fit someone a good foot taller than her and the excess fabric pooled around her hips and legs. Before she could do it herself, Faro plucked up her discarded clothing and added it to the bag that held her backpack. She watched it disappear as it was sealed up and put away. There was a palpable sense of loss. Her skin felt odd in the new clothes, knowing they weren’t really her own. She felt scared that all that she had fallen into this strange new world with, she was not permitted to keep. Oddly enough, she really missed her underwear. It felt weird to not be wearing underwear. It was rude to not wear underwear.

She felt herself tear up again. She sniffed.

Faro picked up the white fabric, a blanket, and wrapped it around her gently. His large face dominated her view of the world.

“Something to eat,” he said. “And then it’s bedtime for you, kichtein. You got a long day ahead of you.”

…………………………………..

Faro gave her a sweet tasting biscuit and some water before carrying her to the back of the cabin where there was a small room off to the side of the kitchen. Inside were cages, set into the walls and lined with plush fabric. Tommy was inside one, curled up with a blanket and appearing to be asleep. At the sight of them, Astrid felt like crying again and pressed her face into the fabric of Faro’s shirt.

“I don’t want to be in a cage!” She whimpered. She felt fingers at her back, rubbing softly. “Please don’t make me...”

“Shhh, little one. It’s just for tonight,” he told her. “You won’t be in there for long. Got to keep you both secured until tomorrow.”

He sat her down in the only open cage, beside Tommy’s. She huddled into the blanket she was wrapped in, whimpering in fear. Faro rubbed his hands along her sides, trying to calm her. When the tactile approach failed, he sighed in disappointment.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “It’s just a place to keep you. You won’t be here forever.”

Astrid wouldn’t meet his gaze and buried her head under the blankets, giving off a single whine in response.

“Hm,” Faro said contemplatively before turning away and walking out of the small side room. He reappeared mere moments later with something in his hand. “Do you know what a Rhwren is, Astrid?”

She shook her head.

“I believe the Anglish word is bear,” he said and raised his hand for her to see what he held. It was a small stuffed bear. “Rhwren’s are seen as guardians to Feirgians. They guard the forest, the rivers, the mountains. And people. This one here, Astrid, is for you.”

Astrid pushed her head from the blankets, looking at the bear curiously. “It is?”

“He’s gonna be your guardian,” Faro told her and placing the bear in front of her. She reached out and pulled it close. It was half her height and very fuzzy. Its eyes were solid black and it’s mouth was nothing but a black thread stitched in a line with two points to make it appear that the toy had teeth. “When you’re feeling scared or nervous, just give this little guy a squeeze. He’ll keep the bad things away. He’ll protect you.”

Astrid wrapped her arms around the bear’s neck and buried her face in the plush fur. He smelled like pickled fish and pine, but there was a palpable feeling of security in the soft touch of something vaguely familiar. She could almost pretend that she was back in her own room, snuggling one of her own stuffed animals.

“Thank you,” she said, raising her head.

“Try and get some sleep, little one,” he told her quietly. “It won’t be so scary for much longer.”

…………………….

The next morning was a flurry of confusing activity. Faro woke her and Tommy up, gave them both another sweet biscuit and water, before shuffling off to do something and leaving both humans on the table. Astrid clung to the stuffed bear with one arm while she munched on the food.

It was crumbly and did not have a real flavor other than being lightly sweet. It was not the most appetizing thing she had ever eaten, but she was hungry enough not to care. For his part, Tommy looked horrible. There were dark circled under his eyes which were red and raw. Like he had been crying all night. He absently plucked small pieces of biscuit and slipped them between his lips, but didn’t really chew.

“Are you scared?” he asked her quietly.

“Yeah,” she replied.

A pause.

“I’m sorry, Astrid.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “I...don’t know. I just am.”

She regarded the other human for a moment and nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

“You really have nothing to be so scared over,” said Tippan as he leaped onto a chair and laid his long head on the table top, eyeing the pair. “Humans are treated pretty well here.”

“Sorry if I find the concept of loosing my freedom terrifying,” Tommy hissed and bit into the biscuit vindictively.

“Loosing your freedom? Ha!” Tippan said, his black lips pulling back into a grin. “You’re gonna be adopted. Not enslaved.”

“What’s the difference?” growled Tommy.

“Well, for starters, one involved manual labor and servitude,” replied the dog. “While the other involves belly rubs and food.”

“You’re really hung on on belly rubs, dude.”

“They’re the best part. After food. Food is the best part. What I’m saying is that you’re idea of being a pet is all screwey. Some nice, and most likely rich, Feirgian is gonna take you home, make you apart of their family, and then spoil you rotten for the rest of your life. How is any of that a bad thing?”

“Have you always been Faro’s pet?”

“Since I was a pup.”

“So you’ve never lived with other...dogs, like you? In a pack or a community? Independent and self reliant?”

“Nope. Sounds tedious.”

“So you’ve never been the one to steer the direction of your own life? To make the choices that decide how and where your life goes?”

Tippan seemed to weigh those words carefully. “Nope. And I have no interest in it either.”

“Well, that’s a choice. And for us, Astrid and I, well, we’re being told that we’re not able to make them anymore. I mean, jeez! I literally had to hand over my underwear. My godddamn underwear. For what? Really? Because it might remind me of home? Of being my own person? Of being free?”

Tippan regarded the angry boy for a moment. “Hm. Well. You may have some point there, but it’s all irrelevant now. You’re gonna go be evaluated and they’re going to decided for you if you’re suitable for adoption. And from what I know of the other alternatives, kid, you wanna be adopted. Do yourself a big favor and do what you can to get adopted. Because if you’re worried about having any sense of freedom, you don’t want to go to a zoo. Sanctuaries, from what I hear, aren’t much better.” Tippan’s eyes drifted over to Astrid. “That goes for you too, squeaker. Though I doubt you’ll have a hard time getting adopted. Kit’s are always the first to go.”

Astrid was hugging her bear tightly, nuzzling the soft fur of its neck and peering at Tippan over edge of one of its ears.

“I’m not so scared about...about being adopted. I’m scared that...” she paused. “I’m scared that I won’t see my family again. What if I forget what they look like?”

Tippan shifted so his head lay closer to Astrid, close enough she could feel his breath on her knees.

“I still remember my Mum’s face,” he said. “Haven’t seen her since the day Faro took me home as a pup. But I will always remember her face. Her smell. You won’t forget. Even if you wanted to. Even though she’s not here with you, she’s still apart of you. She’s half of you, after all.”

Astrid lowered the bear a little and nodded sadly. She never considered that before. That her mother was half of her. Literally half of her. The other, her father. There was a great sense of comfort in that idea. Tippan lifted his snout and pushed his wet nose to Astrid face. She giggled, pulling back with a squeak when he stuck out the tip of his tongue and gave her a gentle lick. He sat his head back down on the table with half lidded eyes and a small smile playing on his lips.

“See? You do squeak.”

Faro returned a short time later, carrying the red leather case as before. He sat it down on the table before turning his attention to the two humans. “I called ahead to let the clinic staff know I’ll be dropping the two of you off. Apparently yesterday was quite the event, several collapses all over the county. Three other trappers are bringing in catches. So you’ll have some company.”

“Such joy,” muttered Tommy sarcastically. “I cannot contain it.”

“Just try and keep your spirits up,” Faro suggested, lifted the pack’s flap. “And remember what I told you, Thomas.”

The boy’s gazed dejectedly off to the side. “Yeah. I remember.”

Faro then carefully lifted the human up and lowered him down into the pack. He turned to Astrid.

“And you, kichtein,” the Feirgian said, reaching out and tapping the head of the stuffed bear. “If you get scared, you know what to do, right?”

Astrid tightened her grip on the bear as an answer. Smiling, Faro nodded and gently stroked the top of her head, his fingers trailing down her back before retreating. He then picked her up, studying her for a brief moment. “You’re going to be fine.” He glanced down at Tommy inside the pack. “Both of you.”

He then slipped Astrid, bear and all, down into the other compartment before closing the lip and snapping it shut.

…………………

“We’re here.”

The sound of Faro’s noisy little pick up was all Astrid could heard for what seemed like hours and when it abruptly cut off, it left a definitive ringing in her ears. She rubbed them lightly as new sounds became more prominent. The squeal of the seat as Faro slipped out of the truck, the slamming of the door. The muffled crunch of his boots on gravel as he walked around to the passenger side door and the sudden unadulterated sounds of the outside as he opened the door. She could hear other voices, but what struck her odd was that the words that were being spoken, at least those she heard, were not English. Truthfully, it did not sound like any language Astrid have ever heard. Before she could contemplate any further, Faro lifted the pack from the passenger seat, and shut the door behind him.

“Stay here, Tippan. I won’t be long.”

“Will do.”

Astrid pressed her face to the mesh window and peered around. Settled in a clearing, surrounded by towering pines, was an innocuous little white brick building. The front door was painted bright green with something written in gold letters, but Astrid did not recognize the letters. It looks utterly foreign to her. Faro stepped through and into the clinic…

...and into chaos.

The receiving room was being accosted with noise. Several Feirgians stood about the small space with what looked to Astrid like luggage. However, one of the pieces of luggage had a window and through it peeked the face of a human woman. The cases contained other humans. Even from where she was, Astrid could tell a lot of the noise was coming from the encased people. Someone was screaming every bad word Astrid knew and several she didn’t. Someone else was talking loudly in what sounded like...spanish? And there was also the unmistakable sound of helpless sobbing.

When Faro entered, the gathered giants all turned and greeted him with wide grins and a chorus of “Faro!”

And then a string of gibberish that Astrid did not understand. Faro replied in kind, in the same odd language, and waved at the cases containing the humans. Words were exchanged between the Feirgians and one of them pulled his sleeve up, to reveal a bandage. He gestured to one of the cases next to him. It was smaller than the other, big enough to only hold a single grown human. It seemed to be the source of the angry cursing.

Faro laughed at whatever the injured Feirgian said and then patted the top of the pack holding Astrid and Tommy. She heard the word Anglish and kichtein and several of the giants made sounds of surprise.

“You don’t say!” one of the giants replied, switching to flawless English. An unfamiliar face ducked down close to Astrid’s window and smiled when his large eyes caught sight of her. “Oh, aye. She’s a little sprigget of a thing alright. Gonna walk away with a healthy commission there, Faro. Lucky bastard. Twice the money, half the work.”

“Hardly,” Faro replied.

Astrid squeezed her bear and buried her face in his fur. Despite what she had told Tippan that morning, she was scared. The sounds of the other humans, the other giants, and the displeasing scent of a sterile, bleach scrubbed room. It reminded her of a hospital and the last time she had gone to a hospital was when she was seven had broken her arm riding her bike. She had been terrified the entire time just as she was now. But her parents weren’t there to soothe her. Or to reassure her. She would not go home afterwards or get an ice cream cone on the way for being so brave.

A depression settled over her like a blanket.

…………………………

“Are they all English speakers?” someone was asking. “All Anglish this time?”

“Got a Savoh yabbering away in spanish,” said someone else. “But he understands English fine. And two Berunti, same deal.”

“Alright, good. That makes this easier. So I’m going to be speaking in English for the remainder of our business and suggest you all do the same.”

“Why’s that? Never been a rule before.”

“It’s not a rule, just something we’re trying out. Our sister clinic in Barbos tried this out and saw some encouraging adoptions numbers. The thinking being, if the humans understand what we’re trying to accomplish here, their more likely to behave and pass their evaluations. Which means higher commissions for you gentlemen.”

“Well, I’m all for a higher paycheck.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I’ve been saying this for years,” Faro added with a laugh. “Talk to them in their own language and they won’t panic and freak out as much. Lot less likely to bite too. That Berunti girl wouldn’t have gouged you like that, Calvin, if she knew you weren’t trying to kill her.”

“I’ve been doing this for eight years,” grumbled a giant. “I know how to handle wild humans.”

“And I’ve been doing for fifteen. A little compassion goes a long way, Calvin. Trust me.”

“You try being compassionate when one of them little buggers is trying to carve out an artery. How does a knife that small hurt that much?”

Someone cleared their throat. “If we could continue on, gentlemen? Calvin, an intern will be by to collect your feral human. You said you had her secured?”

“Boxed and muzzled,” came the gruff reply. “I kept the knife in another bag. Wasn’t sure if you needed it or not.”

“No, that’s alright. It’ll go to Kluedachsen when the rep comes by tomorrow with all their other personal effects. Just make you the incident report is attached to the carrier, if you please.” A pause. “Faro, you mentioned that you had a kichtein?”

“That’s right.”

“How old?”

“Ten.”

“Okay, you first, then. We like to get the younger ones processed first.”

The pack shifted and Astrid flopped over as it rose into the air. Through the window, she watched the receiving area drift farther and farther away before the bulk of a white door cut it off from view.

“This will be the first kit I think we’ve gotten from you,” said the unknown giant as they walked down a blindingly white hallway.

“She is. Never had one come through,” Faro replied. “Not in all my years of trapping.”

“It’s not very common,” agreed the other giant. “When it does happen, they’re almost always with another older humans.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Well, the prevailing theory is that whatever triggers a collapse is initiated on the human’s plane and whatever the catalyst actually is, kichteins can’t trigger it by themselves.”

“So they’re collateral?”

“That’s the current theory at least.”

Faro sighed. “Sad.”

“It is. Which is why we take great care with them. So many folks who adopt humans all want kits, because they’re all high energy and always happy and want to play. But a wild kit and a domestic one are worlds apart. Which you probably figured out quickly.”

“She’s actually one of the more well behaved humans I’ve caught.”

“Well, that bodes well for her. How about the other one?”

“Anglish male. Seventeen. Skiddish. A little mouthy, but no more than usual.”

“We can hear you,” snapped Tommy, his mildly irritated voice slughtly muffled by the wall between him and Astrid. “Just so you know.”

Faro chuckled. “See what I mean?”

“A good week for you then, huh?”

“Pretty good.”

The slightly swaying of the pack stilled for the briefest of moments as there came the sound of another door opening before Faro followed the other giant into a new room. Astrid’s stomach dropped to the floor as a wave of vertigo swept through her and the pack was lifted and set carefully on what appeared to be an examination table.

“Alright, Faro,” said the unnamed giant, appearing on the other side of the window, a clipboard in hand. “If you would.”

“The kit first, right?”

“If you please.”

The darkened interior of the leather carrying case was illuminated and Astrid lifted her head to see Faro reaching inside. As he lifted her out with the same care and gentleness as he had previously, she got a proper view of the room. Wholly unremarkable was the relatively small space as it was almost completely identical to a normal examination room. Stark white walls, a counter running along one wall, various tools and applicators in jars, drawers, and cabinets overhead. There was a device to one end of the counter that looked like a scale fitted with a tray. Along the back-splash were items of a more nefarious nature. Various muzzles, bindings, and straps were hung on hooks for easy access. In case a human got bitey, Astrid imagined. She thought back to the receiving room the one human who had been boxed up apart from the others. It must be a common occurrence.

Almost as soon as Faro released her onto the table, another, unfamiliar, set of hands were beset upon her. She flinched at the sudden fingers pressing on her arms and side, holding her still, as a large face of the other giant lowered down close to her. He was bald, but had thick gray eyebrows and brown eyes that peeped out from behind thin wire framed glasses. She met his eyes, watching him warily, as she waiting for something to happen.

“Oh yes, she is a young one,” the Feirgian murmured. He was dressed in brown trousers and a sweater made of various bands of green, all under a long white lab coat. Brown eyes looked her up and down and whatever it was he was searching for, he seemed to have found it as he then stepped back, opened a drawer, and drew out a black plastic square. He then pulled a sheet of paper from the clip board and sat it down near her. “Alright...” his words trailed off as he gazed down at the papers briefly before looking back to the small human, “...Astrid. My name is Dr. Weis and I’ll be taking some measurements and get your records done. We’re gonna make sure you’re good and healthy, okay?”

Astrid nodded, wishing she had grabbed her bear when Faro pulled her from the pack.

“Ever have your prints done?” Dr. Weis asked her as he pulled on purple latex gloves.

“...when I was born at the hospital,” she replied, her voice quiet.

“Well, we’re gonna do the same right here,” he said patiently, setting the black square down and removing the clear plastic cover. His brown eyes watched her as though to gauge her reaction. “This is just regular old black ink. Nothing special. We’ll do your feet first, alright?”

She nodded. He instructed her to unzip the bottom of her suit, releasing her feet from the black fabric and he hummed in approval when she followed through with his directions under her own volition. When she had finished and her feet were touching the cold metal of the table top, he carefully plucked her up, again seeming to study her reactions, before lowering her down so her feet were pressed to the ink pad. It was startlingly cold and wet, but the contact was very brief and soon her blackened toes were being pressed down onto the paper, inside a pre-marked square.

“Brilliant,” said the doctor in an overly chipper tone and then producing a moist towelette from somewhere and quickly wiping off the ink from her feet. She wiggled in his hand, unable to suppress a giggle at the ticklish ministrations. He flashed her a smile. “Sorry. Tickles a bit, does it?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, now let us get your hands,” said the doctor. He then held her over the ink pad. Suspended in the air like superman, she instinctively understanding what he expected of her and Astrid pressed her hands onto it. The pad effectively marked her fingers and palms in austere black. Then as she hovered over the large sheet of paper, she planted her inked hands into a second box, pressing down firmly as instructed. “Perfect. You’re doing wonderfully, Astrid.”

The same towelette was used to wipe away the ink from her hands and as soon as they were clean, Astrid slipped her feet back inside her warm suit and zipped it back up. Then she was weighed by being place upon the tray set above the scale. Her height was noted. A sample of her saliva was taken and placed in a tube, shaken, and the liquid poured into a tray separated into five sections. Each one turned a brilliant blue.

“All negative,” Dr. Weis said aloud. “Good, good. Very good. That means no shots for you, Astrid.”

“Oh good,” she said. “’Cause I don’t like needles.”

“You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who does,” Dr. Weis replied with a smirk. Though his amiable nature and overt attempts to reassure her were appreciated, Astrid could not truly relax. The records Faro took the night before were transferred over and all forms of various papers were clipped, stapled, and assembled before all being tucked into plain brown folder upon which her name was written in fat black marker. Dr. Weis removed his gloves and slid the clip board over to Faro. “If you could sign there, next to her name. Sonya will have the release forms for you after the boy’s evaluation.”

Astrid blinked. That was the evaluation? That was it? Somehow she expected there to be more to it. More questions, more poking. Something like the way cops interrogated bad guys on television. But it felt more like she had just had a normal check up. Was there something she missed?

Or more to the point: Did she pass?

As Faro was signing the paper, Dr. Weis walked over to the door, opened it, and leaned out. “Sonya. Advest yeir Jarden mon heist? Ver kichtein.”

“Suden rikt.” replied a female voice.

When the doctor turned back, his eyes fell to Astrid. “So now that your evaluation is done, Astrid, Sonya will be bringing you to my associate, Jarden. He’s going to get you ready for quarantine.”

Her heart rate spiked and she blanched. Quarantine? Was that bad? It sounded bad. Wasn’t quarantine the thing that happened when people were really sick? Was she sick? Oh god…

Her panic must have been showing because the doctor bent down and ran his thumb across the top of her head in a gesture of gentle reassurance. “I know it’s a big scary word, but do not let it upset you. All humans who are approved for adoption have to be quarantined for three days. The only thing that happens is you sit in a big comfy room all day, getting ready to go to a new home.”

“O-oh...um, how come?” she asked.

“Well, the humans who are born here don’t have the antibodies to a lot of the illnesses you do and can get really sick from them. So we are very careful not to introduce dangerous illnesses. Even though you’re not sick, you still might carry them in your body. In your saliva, your blood, and other bodily fluids and materials.”

“Oh, okay. That...makes sense, I think,” she replied. She looked back at the pack, thinking of her bear, and turned back to the doctor with a hopeful lilt of her eyebrows. “Can I keep my bear?”

“Bear?” Dr. Weis asked.

“Oh, right!” Faro said, reaching into the pack and bringing out the small stuffed toy. “I gave her a Rhwren. I didn’t think to ask if she could bring it with her.”

“It’s not a problem,” Dr. Weis replied, smiling down at the little human girl. “I’ll make a note on your chart. Just in case.”

Astrid grinned in relief when Faro presented her with the bear. It might have been a small gesture to the two Feirgians, but for Astrid, after having to give up all her possessions, having something that was wholly her own was an enormous comfort. She had fallen asleep the night before, stroking the soft fur, feeling the hard plastic of its eyes, the stiff threads of its mouth, and the rounded ends of its paws. The tactile activity had brought a desperately craved sense of calm. And he made for a fantastic pillow.

She hugged the toy happily and then the door opened. A Feirgian woman with short curly brown hair, bright green eyes, and dressed in pink scrubs entered. “Jarden frare heist totkurt danem. Des Kichtein ver korcumt knut swarzen.”

“Ah, vank saden, Sonya,” Dr. Weirs said to the woman. Astrid met his mildly apologetic expression curiously. “Unfortunately, some of our volunteers do not remember much of their English lessons. Most Feirgians in Audenvier know at least some English, but a great many are fluent, so you’ll hear it a lot. More than other human language. Mandarin is a close second, but it’s more common in Lerdachest. Audenvier sees mostly Anglish and Berunti.”

“We have no idea where that is...” Tommy’s voice quipped from the pack.

“Part of the quarantine involves an assimilation period,” Dr. Weis replied. “Jarden will answer any questions you have. Including geography.”

“I’ve got a long list at this point, doc.”

“I’m sure you do. However, we must press on,” Dr. Weis then reached out for Astrid and she could not keep from gripping her bear just a tad more securely to her as his large fingers gripped around her body and lifted her from the table. Turning towards Sonya, Dr. Weis held out the small human child. “We have a lot of humans to process today. Hopefully most of them will be joining you in quarantine.”

Sonya’s hands were cold compared to Dr. Weis and even though she apparently had no idea what was being said, she still gave Astrid a pleasant smile. As she turned to leave, Astrid caught the slimmest look of Faro pulling Tommy from the pack. She waved anyway, unsure if Tommy saw her. As the door closed behind them, Astrid hoped that she would be seeing Tommy in quarantine soon.

She hugged her bear a little closer.

…………………………

Without any windows, the quarantine room’s only light came from strong florescent ceiling panels that cast the room in a blindingly white light strong enough to force Astrid clench her eyes shut as Sonya entered. Blinking blearily through the painfully sharp brightness, the space began to materialize before her. Modestly sized and rather cookie cutter in appearance, the main feature seemed to be the center of the room where large square plastic bins had been tipped onto their sides, creating a sort of open ended shelter. Placed in a loose circle, there was enough room between each of them for a Feirgian to easily walk around and indeed sit in the center of. Inside each bin there looked to be blankets of some kind, arranged in a way so as to turn them into a kind of makeshift nest. Off in one corner, almost as an afterthought, was a door. Painted the same blinding shade of white as the rest of the room, the door’s fit was so flush with the rest of the wall that it would be almost invisible if not for the copper colored hinges and knob.

“Jarden?” Sonya called out into the empty room.“Bentkeir von shaurser. Kichtein wier kervos dan?”

“Kervos heist don ver,” replied a voice muffled from behind the door. “Vank suden.”

Sonya walked to the circle of bins and lowered herself down, carefully placing Astrid next to one of the bins. The giant woman looked to her with an oddly hopeful look as she reached into the bin and patted the nest of blanket as though inviting her to come sit. Astrid just starred, acting as though she did not understand. With a mildly disappointed look, Sonya rose back up to her feet and left the room.

Astrid watched her go, peeking out from behind the bulk of the bin. The door shut firmly with a soft click and she found herself alone in the sterile, all too bright room. Spinning slowly, she took in what little there was to see of the room, but there was a growing discomfort in her guts. Her insides clenched and there was a tightness deep in her chest. It was akin to the feeling one got when they held their breath too long. The craving for air. But no matter how many deep breaths she took, the tightness did not lessen.

A curious and rather ironic sense of being trapped filled her bones despite the enormous proportions of the room. She was a mouse in a great space, but it suddenly felt too small for her. The whole of it all was unraveling too fast and her mind was having terrible difficulty gaining purchase.

Yesterday morning, she had awoken in her own bed: warm, safe, and familiar. She spent the day at school: safe, familiar, and secure. Got sucked into a worm hole: fantastical, unknown, and unnerving. Caught by a giant: impossible, uncertain, and scary.

Whatever form of shock had been buffering her consciousness from the reality of it all was beginning to crumble. And she was afraid. Well and truly afraid.

Not the kind of afraid when you got bad grades or did something naughty. No, this kind of afraid was different. An all encompassing, primal, sort of fear. Like when you first started to learn to swim and you reach for the edge of the pool or a floaty and it wasn’t there. And you panic. And flail. The ground it gone and you’re reaching, but there is nothing to hold onto and you begin to sink and you can’t breathe.

The ground is gone...

There came a sound akin to the jingling of a utensil drawer mere moments before the smaller door opened and a giant unlike any of the others stepped through. Long legs delivered him across the room in moments and large blue eyes fell to Astrid, who starred back with wide eyes. He was taller than either Faro or Dr. Weis, a full head taller than Sonya, and though he had the same pointy ears and sharp canines, as evidence from the brilliant smile he wore, his skin was a creamy mocha rather than the peachy pink of all the other Feirgians. With short black curls and a thick build, he was like a living wall dressed in baby blue scrubs.

Gripping onto her bear for dear life, Astrid made a dash for one of the bins and dived into the nest of blankets. The footfalls of the large man followed her, pausing just outside the bin’s entrance. He was crouched down outside of the bin, one hand on its top edge, and he peered inside. His smile was was smaller than before and a delicate curve of his brow added the slightest hint of concern.

“Feeling a little shy are we?” he asked her, voice low. “Not to worry none, you’re fine to settle in where you want. Still have a good bit before Dr. Weis gets through all the evaluations.”

She made no motion or sound to answer of even acknowledge him as she huddled miserably in the piles of soft fabric, clutching her bear. He caught on quickly to her discomfort.

“No need to be scared, kiddo. I know I look all big and scary, but trust me...” He poked at his chest and middle with a finger. Looking up, his smirked at her. “... most of this is fluff.”

Astrid managed a small smile.

“My names Jarden,” said the giant. “What do I call you?”

“Astrid,” she replied quietly. “My name is Astrid.”

#Bitter lemons #gt #g/t story #fantasy #giant #tiny #universe hopping #human pets #sad smols #Astrid #Tommy #Faro #Tippan #prologue #salty lemonade

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