#I love Fern he’s a great character I should draw him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sketchnskribbles · 1 month ago

Text

just watched episode 5: *spoilers below*

(I’m also going to now cont this on my art blog. I feel it fits better here, since I’ll be drawing for this show soon enough)

My main theory for Jod/Silvo/whatever-his-name-is (he gets a new one each episode we see him. It’s very old school pirate/outlaw of him. Kudos):

He is an ex-Padawan of the Jedi Order. (Honestly, I think I’ll be incredibly disappointed if he isn’t. It just makes sense to me.)

Reason 1: Openly uses the Force

At first I thought it was exactly as Fern suspected: that he was using some sort of “magic” trick to fool them into believing he was a Jedi. Which is still partially true. Initially I believed it was magnets. Either hidden in his clothing or installed into his body, like a cyborg. Capable of manipulating the electronics/metal around him. Like a makeshift Magneto. Which I thought (and still think) would be extremely cool. And would provide a new and interesting set of skills within the galaxy.

But now that we are in Ep 5. I’m starting to truly think that he does have the force.

He uses the force regularly with a clear familiarity that only those who were trained very young could manage (unless they’re prodigy/incredibly high Midi count, in Luke’s case).

And now he uses the force for his benefit. He has the training of a padawan and the mindset of a boy that was raised amongst pirate. A Captain Jack of the Star Wars universe. Internally built in morals but a pessimistic outlook on life in the galaxy.

Reason 2: No Attachments

He gave the “no attachments” talk to Wim in ep 5 (and this is the reason why my theory of him being a Jedi solidified in my mind, over the magnets theory). Albeit, he gave it in a less-Jedi way. Which is to be expected after surviving the genocide of his people (provided he is a remnant of the Order). He basically told him (I’m merely summing it up) that the attachments would diverge him from his direction in life. He should “forget his parents” because “he (Jod) did and he’s /doing great!/“ (a huge lie if there was ever one).

Honestly, his little one-to-one talk with Wim really provided some insight into his mindset. And having him specifically say something along the lines of “you need to forget your attachments. All of them. They’ll just slow you down”. It’s one thing to just say “forget your parents”. Which a character like his would say. It’s a whole different meaning for a character in Star Wars to say “forget your attachments to your parents”.

That was a big ole hint to me, tbh.

If his character truly does hold a Jedi past. Then Jod isn’t saying to “stop loving your parents”. He’s saying “You just need to let go of them.”

I doubt he stopped loving the Master he once had. Or the padawan friends/siblings of his age group. In fact, his love for them would be the reason he is such a hurting man as we now know him now.

On the topic of attachments:

I adore the thought of the Jedi teachings of no attachments leading to a people unable to properly live. Because every being that grew up under the Order’s tutelage we’re not at all well adjusted.

Obiwan: didn’t know how to cope after the loss of his first attachment (Quigon), except to latch onto the last remnant of him (Anakin). He also didn’t know how to cope the loss of his second attachment (Anakin), except to watch his remnants (Luke and Leia) from afar.

No longer willing to get to know and attach to them, too. Fearing even more loss. Giving in to being a hermit in the desert because it would (assumably) hurt less. Haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Obiwan didn’t know how to go through the process of grief and properly let go. Because he was taught to never even love another being on an intimate (romantic or platonic) level in the first place.

So, then, how could he ever learn how to properly grieve and move forward?

Anakin: Refused to give up his attachments. Unwilling to give in to the Jedi rule about not latching on to people that he chose to love.

He gripped so tightly to his people in fear of losing them. A fact that Palpatine utilized to groom and isolate him away from everyone anyways.

Anakin, too, could not learn to let go. He didn’t know how to move forward after loss either.

With Obiwan, his love for his older brother/father-figure turned to an obsessive hate (and there is a very fine line between love and hate). With Padme, his love for her was fierce, yet possessive. He could not ever think of losing her and even went against his own ideals and morals in order to “save” her. Not realizing that it was his own actions that lost her until it was too late. With Ahsoka, he didn’t know how to cope with her leaving him other than to meditate with her lightsabers everyday and pray that she returned to him. With Shmi, he lost her in his arms after she was tortured to death and turned around to slaughter the very people that took her from him. With an internal promise that he would never lose another loved one again.

Anakin, too, unable to learn how to grieve and move forward.

Both Obiwan and Anakin “sacrificed” themselves “for Luke”. (I could get into this bag of worms of: Neither of them realizing that giving themselves up for a situation that could have easily not lead to their deaths, resulted in leaving Luke alone in a world that hated his kind. Because both selfishly wished for the end, but then we would be here all day).

Ahsoka: still has not learned how to grieve and move forward. Which is causing pain to her current friends and family. By holding them all at arms length. Unable to cope with the loss of her own brother/father-figure to the darkside. Now afraid that she would follow his same path if she allowed herself to “attach” herself to someone else, not realizing yet she already has.

Cal (please keep in mind I haven’t finished Survivor. My system keeps crashing… I got to Greev’s bar and that’s it 😤): Is unable to yearn for the loss of his new-found family and crew. Wishing for all of them to be within the confines of his ship and going on adventures with him. Not realizing that they aren’t “gone” and they haven’t “forgotten him”. Their lives have simply gone on to different paths, their bonds no less strong, and yet he now keeps them at arms length because the physical distance for some reason crippled him emotionally. Plus, something obviously happened that I am not yet aware of.

And now Jod: He has internally accepted “no attachments” to the point that he just simply doesn’t try. The more we learn about his past relationships, the more you can tell how much he internalized it. Now we get to see him unwillingly bond with these children now under his care. I can only hope that he can succeed in learning what it is to be truly loved and also how to love.

I just finished watching Episode 4 of The Skeleton Crew and I now have some new theories! *spoilers below*

Theory 1: At Achran was once exactly like At Attin. Perhaps every single one of the hidden planets were once exactly like At Attin, but since we only know of the two planets we’ll just be staying with them for this post.

I’m thinking that At Achran had been just as preserved as At Attin but some kind of disagreement or someone filled with greed for power of some kind caused the planet’s society to destabilize. Especially when General Strix was presented as the “true leader” of their planet. Suggesting a previous and current power struggle. Though I get the feeling that Strix is happy to sit back and enjoy his position of power while others do his job for him. This situation felt to me that both sides have devolved into being unable to think beyond the pettiness of each other.

Theory 2: At Attin and all of the other planets are experiments similar to Fallout’s Vaults. Where some dubious group or groups decided to find (I think it was seven or eight pillars in the tower of ep 4?) 7-8 planets to create the same type of society, and then set each planet a different set of instructions/forced something to happen in order to study what would be the effect.

While it is likely by some sus section of the Republic, I wonder if maybe it could have been created by a different faction entirely? Perhaps the as far back as the Eternal Empire? Or maybe further forward where it was an experiment created by a newly christened Empire in its early years?

The Skeleton Crew has been so amazing. I’ve been having an absolute blast! Whoever came together to write this, clearly knows Star Wars and what they want tell with their story. I am in love with all the characters. I wish for each one to get a happy ending but they have clearly shown that they are willing to give some stakes for the kids and their reluctant adult to go through before they can return home.

And I can’t wait to learn more about the secrets of these strange planets.

#Reblog from my main account #Star Wars #skeleton crew speculations #swtsc #speculation #predictions #Jod na nawood #The republic #the empire #the new republic #If anyone else has thoughts about this show #feel free to voice them.#you have a differing opinion? Let me know!#im honestly intrigued by the mysteries of this show and it’s characters

19 notes · View notes

birdsong-warriors · 4 years ago

Note

Out of curiousness, who is Ashfur's dad? In canon, it's Whitestorm, but that means he literally cheats on Brindleface two books later with Willowpelt.

I had a whole headcanon about this, but it kind of casts some shadow on Whitestorm's character. But I think I'll stick by it for the moment, because you know what, character flaws are fun!

When Brindle was in her relationship with Redtail, they had a brief talk with Whitestorm about perhaps becoming a poly ship. They agreed to test things out and... well, Ash and Fern happened. I had a scene I wanted to draw for so long, with Whitestorm visiting Brindleface in the nursery when her kits are born, and he takes one look and knows they aren't Redtail's. "They should be his." He whispers, once again caught up in grief for his best friend, deputy, and love of his life.

Brindleface still tells everyone that Redtail is the father, but this leads to a great confrontation between Whitestorm and Ashpaw later when he finds out the truth, that his father wasn't the great deputy everyone praises, but a tired old cat with little fight left in him.

Let's just say it doesn't help his psychology in the end. And it doesn't help Whitestorm's resignation to his own end.

#whitestorm is one of my favorites #i love how he turned out #asks #anon #whitestorm #ashfur #ferncloud #brindleface #redtail

131 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 102

Okay, trying to queue this again after it apparently got eaten along with chapter 101.

Y’all pray for me to whatever higher powers you believe in or can make up on the spot. Thanks.

Thanks for this chapter goes to the fabulous anon who sent me an ask about Jedis. I really, really hope you are seeing this chapter and I hope you like it. I also want to thank @baelpenrose as my resident Star Wars expert, who checked, double checked, and triple checked my writing to make sure everything was as entertaining/accurate as possible.

Before you all cringe at some comments Sophia makes, she is deliberately downplaying her knowledge of Star Wars in an attempt to see if she can give some of the other characters a twitchy eye.

After an extraordinarily bizarre situation regarding my former foe and who I assumed was his partner, I was profoundly relieved to find myself in a very boring, very normal situation a couple of weeks later. Even the regular family dinner was pretty normal: grilled cheese on a very good sourdough, with a tomato soup so garlicky that even I had no objections to it. I made a point to puree it, so Derek was very happy with the texture and I was happy with the flavor. Arthur shot me odd looks once in a while, but it was a happy, calm dinner.

And things were going… so well… I thought as Maverick dragged everyone into his quiet argument with Sam.

“Sam,” He stated emphatically as he dunked his sandwich and ripped a tomato-soaked piece from it. “We all want it to be real but… humans don’t exist outside of Earth and the Ark.”

“Yoda is not human,” Sam insisted loudly, grinning the entire time.

I choked on my soup. “Yoda? You two have been arguing Star Wars this whole time?”

“Maverick insists they are not real,” Sam enunciated carefully. When he got excited about a topic he loved, he had a tendency to rush everything and drop syllables, making his words nearly impossible to understand.

“They meaning Jedi?” Arthur asked, eyeballing the pile of sandwiches on the table. Finally he snagged his third half-sandwich and dunked it without ceremony. “As much as I wish they were real, I have my doubts.”

So did I. “Human beings who can use telepathy, telekinesis, and distance-empathy?” I scrunched my nose. “I think that’s a bit far-fetched.”

“But extraterrestrials exist,” Sam pointed out.

Conor nodded. “They do, obviously. Otherwise, Noah would be a bloody big figment of our imagination.” Shaking his head, he smiled. “If we didn’t make Santa real as children, I doubt we could make up someone like Noah, right?”

Sam only got more serious. “I was always taught that aliens don’t exist. My teachers told me that the only life off of Earth were bacteria. But, even if Else is bacteria, Noah isn’t. So, maybe other things we thought were pretend are real.”

The table was silent for a moment, shattered only by Derek dusting bread crumbs from his hands as ceremoniously and loudly as humanly possible. “Sam has a point,” he signed. “Fabricators exist, aliens exist.. Hell, telepathy exists - “

“Not telepathy,” Miys interjected from above.

“Neuro-pheremonal communication exists,” Derek finger-spelled, making a point of how cumbersome the term was in a way none of the rest of us really could. Seven minutes later, he took a slurp of soup and continued. “Unicorns exist, even if they are chubby. Why not Jedi?”

I opened my mouth to refute, then realized I couldn’t: we had the genetic code for both narwhals and rhinoceros in the gene bank. Good effing luck convincing anyone unicorns don’t exist, I guess. Instead, I grasped on my one last leg of logic. “But humans, like Luke Starkiller and Obi-whatsit Kenoshi don’t actually exist.”

Maverick looked absolutely revolted by something, which confused me. He liked tomato soup, and actually chose the cheese for the sandwiches himself. “Sophia. Have you even seen those movies?” He was absolutely aghast as he posed his question, and I suddenly understood what he was revolted by.

“Of course I did,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “In college, in Intro to Adolescent Literature.”

Soup abruptly coated everything on the table as both Arthur and Conor spat violently at my clarification. Arthur scrubbed his chin the fastest, so had the honor of levelling his incredulity at me. “Sophia Reid. Do you mean to tell me that you have only seen Star Wars ONE TIME?”

I shook my head, confused. “No. I’ve seen all three.”

“ELEVEN,” Sam corrected me loudly. “There are eleven movies.”

“Please, please tell me you at least saw Rogue One,” Maverick begged. “You may not have known it was a Star Wars movie?”

“Is that the one where the robot hits the guy and says he has another fresh one?” I asked carefully.

Maverick nodded. Arthur, however, looked like he was about to start breathing fire. “I am going to force you to consume every bit of Star Wars media worth consuming if I have to get Charly and Derek to program the audio versions to play in every room you enter.”

“I can do that,” Derek signed, unhelpfully.

Arthur just nodded. “See? I can make this happen. Your quarters will feel like Hoth, all digital communications will sound like C-3PO, and many Bothans will die before your datapad functions.”

Alarmingly, Miys interjected. “Wisdom, Bothans are an endangered species. Please do not encourage Educator Farro to commit atrocities.”

I was still gasping in confusion when Arthur recovered from his choking. “Oh shit. Bothans are real? They were a very back-stabby race of dog-type people who fought against fascists in Terran media. I thought, at least. I wouldn’t actually kill a real one… I am far more high functioning of a sociopath than that, thank you.”

“Noah,” I choked out. “Are you serious? Are Bothans real?”

“Affirmative,” they responded, setting off an entirely new round of choking and sputtering. I would need to have something done about my floors if this kept up. “And while they do resemble Terran canines on a very superficial level, they are genetically more closely related to a Terran fern.”

Arthur looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. “That is the least back-stabbing and least threatening plant I can possibly think of.”

Conor, not to be outdone, was still curious. “Boston or Fiddlehead?”

“Asparagus fern, Human Conor,” was the reply that set off a thousand coughs.

Sam recovered first. “That does not mean Jedi don’t exist,” he insisted.

“Of course Jedi exist,” Miys answered in a tone that was as close to being confused as I had ever heard.

Almost immediately, Arthur, Maverick, and Sam started cheering and high-fiving. Conor looked confused, while I spat my soup out again.

“WHAT?” I choked out between attempts at keeping tomatoes and garlic out of my lungs.

“They are as real as any member of any other Terran religion.”

Silence ruled the room for a split second, broken first by Arthur throwing his fork in the air behind him. Like a signal, it led to Sam and Maverick dropping their head to their forearms with a groan.

I managed to recover enough to slide my food away, lest I risk death over an absurd conversation. “Are there anything like Jedi in the known galaxy?” I asked, receiving a thumbs up from Arthur, who was still trying not to choke on his soup.

“Only in small measures.”

That seemed like the magic phrase to snap Arthur out of whatever coughing fit he was having. “Are there any species in the galaxy that have Jedi abilities?”

“You will need to be more specific.”

Conor, laughter out of his system, joined gamely. “Is there anything that can move physical objects without touching them directly?” he started.

“Several species can,” Miys conceded. “Those who only experience what you consider ‘sight’ as changes in air currents can, in fifty-four percent of cases so far, also change the air currents in a sufficient way as to move physical objects.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “They can stare at something hard enough to move it?”

“Wisdom, if I experienced physical pain, I am certain that your oversimplification just now would have caused such a sensation.”

Without rebutting, I waved for Miys to continue and ignored the laughter caused by the comment.

“Similarly, there are species more limited than Hujylsogox, who can perceive the physical world strictly through sound,” they continued. “In such cases, it is not uncommon for these species to also alter their surroundings by vibrating physical objects at a frequency that causes them to move within physical space.” A brief pause before, “And no, Wisdom, that does not mean they scream at objects until such objects move. I would also like to point out, Educator Farro, that the same species can cause internal organs to vibrate as a sufficient frequency as to cut off air flow.”

“Force choke is real,” Arthur whisper-shouted, mildly horrified. Clearing his throat, he spoke more clearly for his next question. “What about ‘there is a disturbance in the Force, as if many voices cried out’ etc?”

Miys buzzed thoughtfully for a moment before replying more clearly. “There are number of species who are able to perceive and interpret with great accuracy any changes in interstellar radiation, no matter how small. Should, say, a star go nova or collapse into a black hole, they are very reliable in providing information to cartographers. Should such a species state with certainty that a planet ceased to exist, I would need to see the planet from orbit in order to disbelieve them.”

Maverick let loose a low whistle, but it was Sam who spoke next. “But what about living beings, on an individual level. I know you can do that, but can any other species?”

“It is, perhaps, the most common trait in the known galaxy,” Miys admitted. “Even humans can do this, to a degree, although you tend to ignore it against all logic.”

“Okay. What about force lightning, though?”

I actually started to respond to that, having an answer finally, but Miys beat me to the draw. “Species who communicate through electrical currents are more numerous in the galaxy than those who can see. In the same way, they need to be able to manipulate such currents. Their young are frequently sequestered on their home worlds in order to prevent electrocution of species whose neural organs can be disrupted by uncontrolled communication. The same species are capable of using those same currents to increase their own synaptic response and reflexes.”

I almost wanted to laugh at Maverick’s face. He looked frustrated and ashamed in a way that I could not figure out. Maybe because these abilities existed, but not in humans? Regardless, his tone was frustrated when he asked his next question. “What about force ghosts? Please tell me those are real?”

“Very much so,” Miys confirmed. “Though likely not in the way you think. What you consider ‘Force Ghosts’ are, in the galaxy as it is, the result of technological advancement combined with spiritual beliefs.” A few groans surrounded the table, but Maverick perked up slightly. “Many species believe, as a result of their evolution, that their predecessors’ life energy persists after death. In these cultures, it is so common as to be unremarkable for a person to have a synaptic recording chip installed shortly after birth, to record their entire lives. They, then, pass their chip on to their successor in position.” Wait a minute… I thought, but Miys continued before I could put everything together. “In such circumstances, many species’s neural organs will manifest a… personality, separate from the original, in order to preserve mental stability. Such manifestations are very similar to what Terran media considers a ‘Force ghost’.”

“Hang on,” I ventured, holding my hand up emphatically to cut off any other questions from the table. “That. Stop there.” Taking a deep breath, I thought back through everything I had read in the past. “I thought the idea of deliberately having multiple, distinct identities was… a story, honestly.”

“Even in your own past, it was discovered that the human brain can host two distinct personalities with no difficulty, Wisdom,” Miys admonished. “These species, however, are uniquely adapted so that, along with the memory implant, they suffer no actual combination or confusion of experiences. What their ancestor experienced is their ancestor’s memory, and what the person experiences is the person's memory. A person cannot overwrite an ancestral core. Only speak to it.”

“Can humans do that?” Sam asked, dazed in wonder at this new revelation.

“Not yet,” Miys responded. “But I do insist on the word ‘yet’, as you were never meant to do many of the things you do now.”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #found family #original writing #earth is space australia #hfy #humans are awesome #aliens #apocalypse #science fiction #sci fi #original sci fi #original science fiction #my writing

65 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

TLTNL- The Fountain of Fair Fortune

Harry made to hand the book to Remus out of habit, but Lily offered, "I'll read the next one." She was enjoying the honest bliss Harry seemed to be carrying while reading these, something she'd been afraid would be long absent with his recent bout of memory returns, but thankfully just being in Sirius' presence seemed to be holding him in good spirits for now and she wanted to keep this up however she could. So she passed her infant along to her husband and happily found the next story.

"I call dibs on my favorite then," Sirius declared at once as he watched Lily skip around their order.

Remus got a bad feeling about letting Sirius do that, because he was now worried about that look he was being given like his mate was going to be picking the story for him as well, but Lily was ignoring the both of them and starting.

High on a hill in an enchanted garden, enclosed by tall walls and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune.

Once a year, between the hours of sunrise and sunset on the longest day, a single unfortunate was given the chance to fight their way to the Fountain, bathe in its waters and receive Fair Fortune for evermore.

On the appointed day, hundreds of people traveled from all over the kingdom to reach the garden walls before dawn. Male and female, rich and poor,

"Why would a rich person show up? Judging by the tale, that person should automatically know they're not getting picked," James rolled his eyes.

"Rich people can be unhappy," Sirius shook his head at him, "I'm sure they think their woes are justifiable enough even if no one agrees."

"I still doubt the fountain would ever choose someone with gold to spare," James shrugged.

young and old, of magical means and without, they gathered in the darkness, each hoping that they would be the one to gain entrance to the garden.

Three witches, each with her burden of woe, met on the outskirts of the crowd, and told one another their sorrows as they waited for sunrise.

"My mother always told me they were sisters, not strangers met," James said in surprise.

"Like the one before, I'm sure they all get tweaked with every retelling," Sirius shrugged.

The first, by name Asha,

"Ooh," Lily couldn't help but coo with a small smile as she turned to Harry and explained, "that's what we were going to name you if you were a girl."

"That's what she wanted to name you," James corrected. "I wanted to name you Poppy, or Rose."

"The flower thing is getting ridiculous James," Lily sighed with a small smile saying otherwise.

"I disagree," James defended, "the one thing I ever remember Petunia telling me was all the women in your family being named for flowers, and I don't need your mother to have another excuse to dislike me if I break that tradition."

"You're being ridiculous," Lily said in exasperation, but James was still going full steam to Harry.

"Her mothers name is Delilah, her Grandmother was Fern, and then there was her sister Iris-"

"Of all the things you remember from that one dinner," Lily blushed faintly as he tried to keep going.

The two parents began arguing the point, leading Sirius to lean over and whisper to Remus, "think they're arguing about this a bit more than necessary?"

Remus started to smirk and say, "those two? The ones who argue like that about what to eat for dinner?" Then he paused, kept watching, and muttered, "though Harry was a surprise as well."

Sirius couldn't help but snort, but then Harry got their attention and they decided to keep going.

was sick of a malady no Healer could cure. She hoped that the Fountain would banish her symptoms and grant her a long and happy life.

The second, by name Altheda, had been robbed of her home, her gold and her wand by an evil sorcerer. She hoped that the Fountain might relieve her of powerlessness and poverty.

The third, by name Amata, had been deserted by a man whom she loved dearly, and she thought her heart would never mend. She hoped that the Fountain would relieve her of her grief and longing.

"Must be some magical fountain to have the potential to heal any of that," Harry muttered.

"The things we still wish magic could do," James agreed.

Pitying each other, the three women agreed that, should the chance befall them, they would unite and try to reach the Fountain together.

"I think Asha wins from that group outright, she's the one most likely to die, the other two's fortune could change without some mystic help," Sirius muttered with a sideways look at Remus, who was blatantly ignoring him.

The sky was rent with the first ray of sun, and a chink in the wall opened. The crowd surged forward, each of them shrieking their claim for the Fountain's benison. Creepers from the garden beyond snaked through the pressing mass, and twisted themselves around the first witch, Asha.

Lily smiled brightly, gaze flickering to her child and back to the story with even such the silly happiness of the character she liked best being chosen.

She grasped the wrist of the second witch, Altheda, who seized tight upon the robes of the third witch, Amata. And Amata became caught upon the armour of a dismal-looking knight who was seated on a bone-thin horse.

The creepers tugged the three witches through the chink in the wall, and the knight was dragged off his steed after them.

"Seems a bit ridiculous all four were let in," Remus couldn't help but scoff at this logic. "What was to stop the whole crowd from just forming a chain and all going in together to reach the fountain."

"Clearly it's because they didn't expect idiots like you to be sitting around questioning them when they made up this fairy-tale," Sirius snipped.

The furious screams of the disappointed throng rose upon the morning air, then fell silent as the garden walls sealed once more.

Harry shivered heavily, at the reminder of being in hedges that blocked out the noise of a crowd. He was being ridiculous, he told himself sternly without looking at any of them who had surely noticed. It had already happened, no need to get spooked over a kids story!

"It's alright Harry," James kept eyes on his infant as he spoke calmly and softly, though the child was gurgling with delight and for once looked better off than the adult watching.

Asha and Altheda were angry with Amata, who had accidentally brought along the knight.

"Only one can bathe in the Fountain! It will be hard enough to decide which of us it will be, without adding another!"

Now, Sir Luckless,

"Much nicer than I would have called him," Sirius snickered.

as the knight was known in the land outside the walls, observed that these were witches, and, having no magic, nor any great skill at jousting or duelling with swords, nor anything that distinguished the non-magical man,

"Then, why was he a knight?" Harry asked, trying to picture in his head and not coming up with anything.

"Anyone can put on a costume I suppose," James chuckled.

was sure that he had no hope of beating the three women to the Fountain. He therefore declared his intention of withdrawing outside the walls again.

At this, Amata became angry too.

"Faint heart!" she chided him. "Draw your sword, Knight, and help us reach our goal!"

"Honestly I'd have tried to retreat too," Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck with his face pinched up. "Being stuck around three women who are assuredly going to get into a fight, I'd happily stay out of that one."

"Faint heart indeed," Lily sniffed, now easily picturing Sirius in that get up instead of Sir Cadogan from before.

And so the three witches and the forlorn knight ventured forth into the enchanted garden, where rare herbs, fruit and flowers grew in abundance on either side of the sunlit paths.

They met no obstacle until they reached the foot of the hill on which the Fountain stood.

There, however, wrapped around the base of the hill, was a monstrous white Worm, bloated and blind. At their approach, it turned a foul face upon them, and uttered the following words:

"Pay me the proof of your pain."

Harry couldn't help but shift restlessly again, despite the description, his mind flashing to a Sphinx from so long ago, but then the infant burst out laughing as James continued to make faces at him, and Lily kept reading in such an assured voice with a warm smile it easily soothed the dusk filled night from his nightmares.

Sir Luckless drew his sword and attempted to kill the beast, but his blade snapped.

"Credit for trying?" Remus offered with a halfhearted smile.

Then Altheda cast rocks at the Worm, while Asha and Amata essayed every spell that might subdue or entrance it, but the power of their wands was no more effective than their friend's stone, or the knight's steel: the Worm would not let them pass.

The sun rose higher and higher in the sky, and Asha, despairing, began to weep.

Then the great Worm placed its face upon hers and drank the tears from her cheeks.

"Eww," Lily muttered with a crinkled nose, while James started snickering at the expression and promised her, "don't worry Lily flower, I'm the only one who can do that to you."

"More eww," Sirius told the pair while Lily rolled her eyes at them and kept going loudly.

Its thirst assuaged, the Worm slithered aside, and vanished into a hole in the ground.

Rejoicing at the Worm's disappearance, the three witches and the knight began to climb the hill, sure that they would reach the Fountain before noon.

Halfway up the steep slope, however, they came across words cut into the ground before them.

Pay me the fruit of your labors.

Sir Luckless took out his only coin, and placed it upon the grassy hillside, but it rolled away and was lost.

"Poor bloke," Remus tried to smile at what was likely meant as a joke or just another instance of the characters trying to take the story too literally, but sadly he had an idea of being down to your last Knut.

The three witches and the knight continued to climb, but though they walked for hours more, they advanced not a step; the summit came no nearer, and still the inscription lay in the earth before them.

All were discouraged as the sun rose over their heads and began to sink towards the far horizon, but Altheda walked faster and harder than any of them, and exhorted the others to follow her example, though she moved no further up the enchanted hill.

"Courage, friends, and do not yield!" she cried, wiping the sweat from her brow.

As the drops fell glittering on to the earth, the inscription blocking their path vanished, and they found that they were able to move upwards once more.

"You think that's just what this magical fountain is full of? The sweat and tears of all the witches and wizards over the years?" Sirius pondered.

"That was vaguely gross, and yet I kind of believe it," Remus chuckled.

Delighted by the removal of this second obstacle, they hurried towards the summit as fast as they could, until at last they glimpsed the Fountain, glittering like crystal in a bower of flowers and trees.

Before they could reach it, however, they came to a stream that ran round the hilltop, barring their way. In the depths of the clear water lay a smooth stone bearing the words:

Pay me the treasure of your past.

Sir Luckless attempted to float across the stream on his shield, but it sank. The three witches pulled him from the water, then tried to leap the brook themselves, but it would not let them cross,

"You'd think by the third time they'd realize something was up other than just try to go around," James snorted.

"Yeah, these dense broads should be asking the fountain for something more to do with smarts than love or whatever," Sirius smirked.

"Remind me again how you're not the one married," Lily muttered, though she couldn't help but agree with him, these witches weren't exactly using a lot of problem solving skills.

and all the while the sun was sinking lower in the sky.

So they fell to pondering the meaning of the stone's message, and Amata was the first to understand. Taking her wand, she drew from her mind all the memories of happy times she had spent with her vanished lover, and dropped them into the rushing waters. The stream swept them away, and stepping stones appeared, and the three witches and the knight were able to pass at last on to the summit of the hill.

"There they have it," Remus mock applauded.

The Fountain shimmered before them, set amidst herbs and flowers rarer and more beautiful than any they had yet seen. The sky burned ruby, and it was time to decide which of them would bathe.

Before they could make their decision, however, frail Asha fell to the ground. Exhausted by their struggle to the summit, she was close to death.

Her three friends would have carried her to the Fountain, but Asha was in mortal agony and begged them not to touch her.

Then Altheda hastened to pick all those herbs she thought most hopeful, and mixed them in Sir Luckless's gourd of water, and poured the potion into Asha's mouth.

At once, Asha was able to stand. What was more, all symptoms of her dread malady had vanished.

"I thought the worm did that," James scratched at the back of his head as he tried to recall his mothers old retelling with this instead. "The three trials cured the other three and then Sir Luckless didn't because he no longer needed to or some such."

"You've got to stop comparing retellings," Lily shook her head at him before continuing.

"I am cured!" she cried. "I have no need of the Fountain, let Altheda bathe!"

But Altheda was busy collecting more herbs in her apron. "If I can cure this disease, I shall earn gold aplenty! Let Amata bathe!"

Sir Luckless bowed, and gestured Amata towards the Fountain, but she shook her head.

The stream had washed away all regret for her lover, and she saw now that he had been cruel and faithless, and that it was happiness enough to be rid of him.

"Good sir, you must bathe, as a reward for all your chivalry!" she told Sir Luckless.

"What do you think he'd even ask for? To have his name changed?" Sirius kept picking at the idea while Remus and James snickered along.

So the knight clanked forth in the last rays of the setting sun, and bathed in the Fountain of Fair Fortune, astonished that he was the chosen one of hundreds and giddy with his incredible luck.

As the sun fell below the horizon, Sir Luckless emerged from the waters with the glory of his triumph upon him, and flung himself in his rusted armor at the feet of Amata, who was the kindest and most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. Flushed with success, he begged for her hand and her heart, and Amata, no less delighted, realized that she had found a man worthy of them.

The three witches and the knight set off down the hill together, arm in arm, and all four led long and happy lives, and none of them ever knew or suspected that the Fountain's waters carried no enchantment at all.

"Dun, dun, dun!" Sirius cried, throwing his arms in the air for emphasis.

"I've got to give him that one," James chuckled.

"I can see the moral it was going for, but remember it had chosen Asha first," Lily said with a creased brow. "If the water wasn't meant to heal, and the poor thing would have died by the journey of just getting up to the magical herbs that did heal her, than it's still a good thing she dragged someone along who knew what they were doing."

"Agreed, teamwork seems to be the point of it all," Harry said watching those around him, his mind on a much more recent memory from his past where he was sure he wouldn't have made it out anymore than his godfather if not for his friends backup.

Albus Dumbledore on "The Fountain of Fair Fortune"

"The Fountain of Fair Fortune" is a perennial favorite, so much so that it was the subject of the sole attempt to introduce a Christmas pantomime to Hogwarts' festive celebrations.

"Oh, this was it!" Remus burst out laughing.

"You mentioned the school tried to put on a play once, should have known it was Dumbledore's actual idea," Sirius snickered.

"Let me finish," Lily scolded, having read ahead and contradicting him.

Our then Herbology master, Professor Herbert Beery,1 an enthusiastic devotee of amateur dramatics, proposed an adaptation of this well-beloved children's tale as a Yuletide treat for staff and students.

"Ah well, lets see why it was such a disaster then," James said eagerly.

I was then a young Transfiguration teacher, and Herbert assigned me to "special effects", which included providing a fully functioning Fountain of Fair Fortune and a miniature grassy hill, up which our three heroines and hero would appear to march,

"We absolutely should have got those parts," Sirius huffed.

"Padfoot," Remus began slowly and kindly, "think about what you just said."

It took him a second, but his slightly pouting expression didn't change much. "Flip it to three hero's and a heroin then, Lily could totally be a knight."

"Thanks," she muttered, "I always do feel luckless with you around."

Sirius went wide-eyed but defended his claim, "come on Lily, you know it's perfect! Remus is Asha-"

"Because no one saw that coming," Moony said while giving him the stank eye.

"Prongs is Amata," he kept going on the same breath while James put his arm around Lily without contesting being love sick most of his life.

"-and you're the random person that got plopped down with us but we'd never replace."

She eyed him for a moment like she couldn't decide if she was supposed to be insulted or warmed by that, Sirius had a gift of managing both at the same time.

"Since when have you ever been poor and down on your luck?" Remus accused. "I think I should just play both parts."

"Let you steal the show?" Sirius gasped. "I can play a part!"

"Honestly, I think he has enough energy to play all four main characters," Harry muttered.

while it sank slowly into the stage and out of sight.

I think I may say, without vanity, that both my Fountain and my Hill performed the parts allotted to them with simple goodwill. Alas, that the same could not be said of the rest of the cast. Ignoring for a moment the antics of the gigantic "Worm" provided by our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Silvanus Kettleburn, the human element proved disastrous to the show. Professor Beery, in his role of director, had been dangerously oblivious to the emotional entanglements seething under his very nose. Little did he know that the students playing Amata and Sir Luckless had been boyfriend and girlfriend until one hour before the curtain rose, at which point "Sir Luckless" transferred his affections to "Asha".

"May as well have done a play over A Midsummer Night's Dream." Lily chuckled at how confusing all this could get.

Suffice it to say that our seekers after Fair Fortune never made it to the top of the Hill. The curtain had barely risen when Professor Kettleburn's 'Worm', now revealed to be an Ashwinder2 with an Engorgement Charm upon it,

"Whose terrible idea was that?" Remus muttered, then he remembered his old Care of Magical Creatures teacher hadn't exactly been any more steller than Harry's in recognizing when particular magical creatures should be in a situation.

exploded in a shower of hot sparks and dust, filling the Great Hall with smoke and fragments of scenery. While the enormous fiery eggs it had laid at the foot of my Hill ignited the floorboards, "Amata" and "Asha" turned upon each other, duelling so fiercely that Professor Beery was caught in the crossfire, and staff had to evacuate the Hall, as the inferno now raging onstage threatened to engulf the place. The night's entertainment concluded with a packed hospital wing; it was several months before the Great Hall lost its pungent aroma of wood smoke, and even longer before Professor Beery's head reassumed its normal proportions, and Professor Kettleburn was taken off probation.3

"And the school didn't want to try again?" James demanded. "Where's their sense of adventure?"

"Safe in the hospital wing," Lily giggled.

Headmaster Armando Dippet imposed a blanket ban on future pantomimes, a proud non-theatrical tradition that Hogwarts continues to this day.

"They are really missing out," Sirius insisted.

Our dramatic fiasco notwithstanding, "The Fountain of Fair Fortune" is probably the most popular of Beedle's tales, although, just like "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot", it has its detractors.

"Of course it does," James rolled his eyes.

More than one parent has demanded the removal of this particular tale from the Hogwarts library, including, by coincidence, a descendant of Brutus Malfoy and member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, Mr. Lucius Malfoy. *

"Is Malfoy on the board of governors already?" Lily spluttered in pure disgust. Admittedly more outraged than anything he'd pulled so high in the Ministry while only being a few years above her and she was still at the bottom.

"There's a nightmare we need to fix soon," Remus agreed in disgust.

Mr. Malfoy submitted his demand for a ban on the story in writing:

Any work of fiction or non-fiction that depicts interbreeding between wizards and Muggles should be banned from the bookshelves of Hogwarts. I do not wish my son to be influenced into sullying the purity of his bloodline by reading stories that promote wizard-Muggle marriage.

"How dare he hear someone else's opinion on something," James mocked.

My refusal to remove the book from the library was backed by a majority of the Board of Governors. I wrote back to Mr. Malfoy, explaining my decision:

So-called pure-blood families maintain their alleged purity by disowning, banishing or lying about Muggles or Muggle-borns on their family trees. They then attempt to foist their hypocrisy upon the rest of us by asking us to ban works dealing with the truths they deny. There is not a witch or wizard in existence whose blood has not mingled with that of Muggles, and I should therefore consider it both illogical and immoral to remove works dealing with the subject from our students' store of knowledge.4

"And Malfoy didn't take to this idea? What a genuine astonishment," Sirius said dryly.

This exchange marked the beginning of Mr. Malfoy's long campaign to have me removed from my post as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and of mine to have him removed from his position as Lord Voldemort's Favorite Death Eater.

"A children's novel got those two started against each other," Lily said deadpan.

"Ah, it would have been something, I'm happier it's something memorable," James rolled his eyes.

"Oh look, they're are notes at the end of this one," Lily said in surprise.

"The man has notes on his notes?" Sirius demanded in disgust.

1Professor Beery eventually left Hogwarts to teach at W.A.D.A. (Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts) where, he once confessed to me, he maintained a strong aversion to mounting performances of this particular story, believing it to be unlucky.

Harry blinked slowly at the mention of that, suddenly a world of questions about other wizarding schools popping to mind he'd have to ask about later. He was more surprised than anything Sirius hadn't gone there.

2 See Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them for a definitive description of this curious beast. It ought never to be voluntarily introduced into a wood-panelled room, nor have an Engorgement Charm placed upon it.

"Anyone sensible could have told them that," Remus rolled his eyes.

3 Professor Kettleburn survived no fewer than sixty-two periods of probation during his employment as Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

"Kettleburn just got better in my memories!" Sirius burst out laughing.

His relations with my predecessor at Hogwarts, Professor Dippet, were always strained, Professor Dippet considering him to be somewhat reckless. By the time I became Headmaster, however, Professor Kettleburn had mellowed considerably, although there were always those who took the cynical view that with only one and a half of his original limbs remaining to him, he was forced to take life at a quieter pace.

"A shame, we might sympathize with Hagrid more since Kettleburn seems exactly like him when he started," Remus chuckled.

"On the plus side, if the pattern continues, hopefully that means Hagrid will continue to mellow out as well," Harry said with a wry smile.

4 My response prompted several further letters from Mr. Malfoy, but as they consisted mainly of opprobrious remarks on my sanity, parentage and hygiene, their relevance to this commentary is remote.

"I disagree, those sound extremely relevant!" James protested.

He was ignored as Lily told this one was done.

HPHPHPHPHP

*First and only time, hopefully, I'll have to edit these books for my purposes. The actual line is 'one-time' member of the board, but of course he hasn't been taken off yet. I believe the timeline of Dumbledore writing for this happened sometime between books two and three, when he was still looking for the other Deathly Hollows as a side project, but due to the purposes of this fic it's obviously been modified a bit more.

#The Life That Never Lived #Harry Potter #reading the books #fanfiction #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter #the tales of beedle the bard

3 notes · View notes

eyepatchdate · 4 years ago

Photo

I saw this bouncing around my dash and decided to fill it out myself for fun :) I decided to not double-list any games, and I tried to mix up the companies I used too so that the list would be more unique.

Long post, so I’m doing a readmore for my longwinded part lol.

(read more)

Favorite Game: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords - I could talk about this game forever. How it tears apart the Star Wars universe from within, how it creates a compelling story while challenging the usual themes, etc. I could talk for ages about the characters and how their motivations slot in place, and how this game lends itself to interpretation and analysis alongside roleplay. It’s just a wonderful game, one I deeply love and will always love. It’s a game that isn’t afraid to have you talk to other characters for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and honestly I’m always riveted at every line. This game deserves the cult fanbase it has, but I think there’s a lot the fanbase misses in appreciating this game. (Note...gameplay is a little janky and a community made mod restores a lot content that was cut before shipping-the game wasn’t properly finished).

Best Story: Fallout New Vegas - It’s the setting that makes the story here, and all the moving pieces and factions alongside the main conflict really make this game stand out. There’s so many little pieces to find along the way in the world and the way the main quest splits based on who you want in power feels important--and you are choosing a future for this whole region.

Favorite Art Style: The Witness - This game is peacefully wonderful with its visuals. There are wonderful nature scenes and nests of wires and panels spreading in various parts of the island that are fascinating to look at. The environment is half of the gameplay in most areas, so it’s important to look around even though exploration is not really the gameplay. You find puzzles in the world, even in nature, and it’s fascinating. The colors are bright and beautiful. There is even a map in the middle of the island inside of a lake that helps you track your progress if you notice it (it isn’t like a normal ‘map’).

Favorite Soundtrack: Shin Megami Tensei IV - I love video game soundtracks, but SMTIV is something special. The music booms in ways that make you really understand the atmosphere of the world, and there’s a great mix of different kinds of tracks for different places. I love the tracks for the other worlds you enter, and the themes of the different routes are done so well. Some of the music draws from past SMT games, but the remixes done for this game really are stunning to me, and there’s so many fantastic original tracks.

Hardest Game: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - I love this game but I literally never touch it without a walkthrough, which is why it gets to be the hardest game on the list, despite being a point and click adventure game lol. Also just emotionally this game is challenging too, but I definitely mean this more in terms of getting a ‘perfect run’.

Funniest Game: The Stanley Parable - Trying to make this list has taught me that I don’t really play many ‘funny games’. I don’t know if a game where multiple endings demand that you kill yourself should count as a ‘funniest game’, but it is also a game where the narrator tells you to stare at a fern and memorize its features, so....it counts.

Game I Like that is Hated: RWBY Grimm Eclipse - I’ve been playing this game since it was in early access and have loved it the whole time. I find the gameplay soothing and fun, and I like playing the different characters. It’s a game I play to chill out and just enjoy some fun battle mechanics. It’s a fun game and I’ve spent over 100 hours in it, so I hope I like it, lol.

Game I Hate that is Liked: Nier Automata - Neither this game’s gameplay or story impress me, and the fact that you have to replay basically the same stuff from a more boring-to-play-character’s pov in order to SEE all of the plot is a huge damper on the experience. The story, to me, someone who engages with a lot of robot-focused fiction, is far from impressive or new, and it hardly engages with genre specifics at all, let alone in a new or interesting way. I view this game as ‘a story with robots in it’ rather than ‘a story about robots’, which, to me, is a detriment.

Underrated: Nevermind - This game is amazing and very unheard of--and when it is heard of, it has been marketed incorrectly. Nevermind seems like a horror game, and does market itself as one a bit, but it’s much more than that. It’s more about trauma, recovery, therapy, etc. This is a game that is so mindful about the topics it engages in that I am impressed by it every time. It’s heavy with symbolism and character, despite lacking conversations or other similar game mechanics. This is a lovely game that I really wish more people knew about-`p5-all of the patients are so interesting, and the focus on recovery and mental health is impressive.

Overrated: Fire Emblem - I sort of mean this as the series as a whole really. I have enjoyed the entries I have played somewhat, but I overall consider the series much less impressive than I was led to believe by others. The gameplay especially is not impressive to me in any regard, even though I sometimes do find myself enjoying it. The stories are alright, but many of them are weighed down by the gameplay and as a writer and person who likes to analyze writing, it’s very hard to do so when it isn’t able to fully exist under the chains the gameplay forces on it. There are ways to mix gameplay and story well, Fire Emblem has not really done that in any of the entries I’ve played. That being said, I don’t regret playing them, and I will occasionally replay, but I consider them mediocre games at best.

Best Voice Acting: Devil Survivor 2 - I love the voice acting in this game. I feel like all the characters are really suited to their voices, and it’s really easy for me to visualize their voices. They really bring the game to life and make both the dramatic and the funny scenes more enjoyable.

Worst Voice Acting: Jedi Knight Jedi Academy - I love this game, I really do, but some of the voice acting is janky. Some of it is okay too--I think Kyle Katarn’s voice actor does fine, and some of the others I like NOW but hated when I was a kid, but the male protagonist voice in this game is just awful. Which is bad when Jennifer Hale is the female voice actress lol. His performance is passable though unless you’re playing darksided--the darksided ending to the game lacks all punch when you’re playing the male protagonist.

Favorite Male: Battler Ushiromiya from Umineko no Naku Koro Ni - He’s the protagonist for most of the visual novels and I adore him utterly, especially once you move past episode 2. He’s a wonderful character who I care about deeply. I love his drive and how he fights--he’s someone who is easy to cheer for. He matures well throughout the series and his character development is just wonderful.

Favorite Female: Naoto Shirogane from Persona 4 - I really like how Naoto fits so well in the game, especially for being a final recruit--oftentimes the final recruit of Persona games (post 3) have a bit of a more difficult time feeling right with the group. Naoto works really well though, and I love her struggles and story as well. I think the difficulties she has concerning living as a woman in her field hit very deep to a problem that has existed for a very long time.

Favorite Protagonist: Connor of Daventry from King’s Quest 8 Mask of Eternity - I’m like, one of four fans of this character in the world, lol. KQ8 is not a very well liked game and it does have a lot of issues, both with age and with how much of a departure it is from the series prior to it. It’s strange to take a puzzle adventure game and make it a hybrid with what basically is a shooter, and it doesn’t really work. Add to that the fact that you spend most of your time in the game without anyone around to talk to and it leads to this really polarizing and weird experience. For me, Conner goes through what I would consider to be the ‘Ultimate Nightmare Scenario”. Everyone in the world is turned to stone except him (and he survived out of mere chance) and so now it’s up to him, practically alone, to save the entire world. There is no game lonelier than this. I adore him for his bravery in the face of it, and how he just picks up to do what must be done because someone should do it, and if no one else can, then he will. I also really love how he apologizes to people who are encased in stone while he takes money from their houses to help him on his journey. I really do think he went back after the game was over and gave everyone heaps of gold to pay them back with interest lol.

Favorite Village: Oakvale from Fable - The first Fable is the only one I really like, and it was one of the games I played when I was little, so the hometown in the game always meant a lot to me. I like how you grow up there and how your tragic backstory is there--and then how you get to return to the town years later after you’ve come into your own, and you can see it completely rebuilt. I like to spend a lot of my time in this town, just wandering around it and playing the minigames. Even though I have a house in every town, Oakvale is where my hero calls home.

Most Hated Character: Merril from Dragon Age 2 - I don’t really want to lay into how I feel about Merril, but what I will say is that it was suggested to me that I totally ignore her when playing, and I did so. I only met her for her quest, dropped her off in town, and literally never spoke to her or interacted for the rest of the game. I had a much better experience for it, honestly. She appeared after I made my choice in the end of the game, which felt weird since I hadn’t spoken to her in several ingame years, but other than that, the game was totally fine without her. I sort of just wish you could kill characters in DA2 the way you can in DAO, then I’d just do that, tbh. It doesn’t suit very many (or any) of the characters I rp in DA2 to keep her around or support her in any way.

First Game I Played: Mixed up Mother Goose Deluxe - I’m not actually sure if this is the FIRST game I’ve ever played or not, but it’s one of the first I played alone as a kid. I really loved it--this is probably what created my love for point and click adventures, and the game was very silly and fun.

Favorite Company: Bioware - I’ve always been a sucker for Bioware games, ever since Knights of the Old Republic 1 was my favorite childhood game. I love how they do stories and party members, and while I’m not a fan of all of their games, I really love what they’ve made and their style of storytelling and character driven plot. Even though sometimes their stories get cliche, I think the suit video games well and most of my early gaming was within their games.

Hated Company: EA - Bioware truly only started to go to shit after the EA acquisition, so I fucking hate EA. I know Bioware had issues before EA too, but I definitely don’t think EA has helped the situation whatsoever.

Depressing Game: The Beginner’s Guide - I relate to this game as a creator and a writer, and it affects me deeply because of the story it tells and the questions it raises. It makes me reflect on how I think of myself as a creator, and it reminds me of friendships I used to have.

Creepy Game: The Path - God, I love this game. It’s just aimlessly wandering around and finding symbolic scenery and watching your current character comment on it. Then, you go off to find your girl’s wolf, and each one is different and unique to her, and you watch it ‘kill’ her--and facing her wolf is the only way each girl can truly mature. Whenever you get to grandmother’s house, the camera switches to first person, and your eyes keep closing, so you can only see while clicking to move. It forces you to keep moving so that you can see, but since you are moving, you only get to see things somewhat vaguely. It’s got a great atmosphere, and I love the symbolic storytelling.

Happy Game: Eastshade - This game is so sweet. There’s some drama around to with many of the quests, but I like this as an rpg without combat, and I think this would be a really good kids game. There’s a lot to see and explore, and the game was made to be really pretty so that you want to paint several aspects of it. It’s really lovely to just wander around in this game and bike around the area, painting anything that suits your fancy. As long as you don’t finish the main quest, you’re free to wander, and materials do respawn, so you essentially can infinitely paint once you get far enough.

Favorite Ending: Virtue’s Last Reward - I love the questions this game asks and where the ending goes. It thematically ties together--the whole reason the game itself exists is to get the attention of a ‘higher being’--the player, essentially. I love how it plays with that concept, and even though the final game in the series doesn’t entirely pick this idea up where this game left it, standalone this game is stunning in how it comes together.

#shitpost #long post #this was fun to do #i made it so every answer was a different video game and i tried to mix up my companies as well #got 3 atlus games on here but mer #2 obsidon #llol #2 sierra too haha but still #beginner's guide and tsp were made by the same guy too but #STILL I LIMITED MYSELF OK #these answers aren't absolute because i was trying to have a good diverse list lol

9 notes · View notes

atamascolily · 4 years ago

Text

lily liveblogs BBC Atlantis 1x02, “A Girl By Any Other Name” (first half)

I actually watched this months ago, but I got interrupted about halfway through, and then there was a global pandemic and I lost my groove. This got super-long, so I’m gonna post it in two parts.

Thanks to @girlwhowasntthere for her help in making sure I could see it, and also for pointing out that Ariadne draws a stone in the first episode (which I totally missed!) so she's not just resting on her privilege there. Good for her!

In the pilot, we were introduced to Atlantis through the eyes of Jason, a dude from our world who has surprising connections to this city of dragons and despots that nobody *cough ORACLE cough* wants to tell him about. But he's managed to pick up two new friends - gruff-but-not-so-secretly soft Hercules, and Pythagoras (yes, that one) - as well as a love interest, an ominous enemy, and Not Die several times in exciting and dramatic ways.

Based on the teaser, it looks like the show is about to introduce another female character, which I am super-excited about, even though the name "Medusa" brings up All Kinds of Questions.

(cut for length and for lots and lots of botanical confusion)

Forest at night. Woman running through the woods while something ominous chases her. Are there forests in Atlantis? I don't remember seeing any in the surrounding wide shots when Jason first showed up from the beach. Where the hell is this supposed to be?

(Side note because I am a Certified Plant Nerd: Where was this FILMED? I'm gonna guess England because BBC and also the leaves look SUPER TEMPERATE, there are definitely maples in there.)

Woman collapses and the camera focuses on her bracelet, which I am sure will be significant later on. We don't hear anything, she starts to get up and I brace myself for a jump scare.

She's got a necklace, too, and I wonder if that's a Plot MacGuffin or if she just has good taste in jewelry.

Ok, so we see her pursuer sneaking up on her, and she turns, and we see it for the first time from her POV and... it's a cave troll! Or something very much like it. She screams, we go to credits.

None of the credits are backwards this time, and I'm so relieved because THAT WAS ANNOYING.

I like the juxtaposition of the ocean and the ruins, then the view of the city, because this show is called ATLANTIS, which implies it's really about the city as a whole (or the city as a character) rather than Jason, even though Jason is the protagonist and audience surrogate.

There are some mountains in the background that look like they COULD have forests, and I will reserve judgement until I see the sets in the daylight, but those mountains look like they ought to be chapparral or the local equivalent, NOT the kind of forest shown in the opening. I'm just saying. I have strong opinions about flora and I will share them.

I am so curious where Atlantis is supposed to be, but I think it's Crete? I'm going with Crete for now until I get more information.

Jason is tossing rocks into a pool because... he's just that bored? Missing the Internet? He's wearing a leather tunic thing and not shirtless, but I'm sure he'll lose it by the end of the episode.

He hears something and gets up and sneaks up on the person coming in the doorway, but I already know it's either Hercules or Pythagoras, and most likely Herc, so I am not surprised when it's Herc. Herc is late AND drunk and Jason is pissed. Apparently, he and Herc are working as security guards for a rich merchant?? (So that answers my question about how they're making money and paying the rent!!)

Jason runs to the Oracle's temple because he's in dire need of Cryptic Exposition and also a Greater Purpose in Life and where better to acquire a Noble Destiny?

"You should not be here," says the Oracle, which is just a classy way of saying GTFO.

"I need answers," Jason demands.

LOL, not happening, dude. She only deals in Cryptic Sayings, not answers. (Although kinda ironic given that the Delphic Oracle’s motto was “Know Thyself”.)

Jason mentions that the minotaur dude claimed he had a great destiny and you can just see the Oracle rolling her eyes, and be all, And you believed him?? LOL.

But Jason DOES have a destiny, even though it doesn't feel like it so the Oracle has to explain that this, too, is also a part of his destiny, and he should just lean into the suck.

Jason calls bullshit. Oracle explains she's trying to protect him, and "all will become clear", mic drop. Jason walks away bummed, but it's DESTINY for him to be confused right now, and I am sure he will have some sort of Character Development about this by the end of the episode.

Herc fell asleep on the job and wakes up to being licked by a goat, which is probably not the most undignified thing that will happen to him in this episode. Also, somebody stole his keys and robbed the thing he was supposed to be guarding, so I'm sure this will end well.

Cut to Herc trying to explain this to Pythagoras, and Pythagoras is calling bullshit. Pythagoras notes the goat slobber and does the best eyeroll to Jason, I love him.

(Hercules is like the roommate from HELL here. How did he and Pythagoras end up rooming together in the first place?)

There's a knock on the door, but it's not the angry merchant, it's the CALL TO ADVENTURE... an old man who's heard that they killed the Minotaur and wants help locating his daughter. I'm picturing an Atlantis version of Sherlock Holmes starring Pythagoras and Jason and it's awesome.

Herc does not want to touch this with a ten foot pole but Jason is bored and eager to help, and so Herc is going to get dragged into this whether he likes it or not. He tries to reject it on the grounds of money, but it doesn't work. The old man talks about his "duty as a father" to make sure his kid is safe, and that's all he needs to say to get Jason on board, because Daddy Issues.

Jason and a new female character, Corinna, are in the palace, trying to be stealthy and they run into Ariadne, which is... awkward. Jason tries to explain, and Ariadne says it's forbidden for Jason to be here... why? Because he's a man? Because he's a stranger? Because he's on Minos's personal shit list? I need some context here.

Jason quizzes Celandine, a kitchen worker, and learns that Demetria, the missing girl, went to the forest to gather herbs and was never seen again. I don't understand what Corinna's role in all this is , but she persuades Celandine to help Jason out by showing him the place where Demetria went.

Time for another marketplace chase! This time it's the merchant after Herc. Meanwhile, Celandine takes Jason to a forest that's super-arid and looks nothing like the one we saw in the opening. There's rock outcroppings in the background, too. No leaf litter at ALL. All dry ever greens... and then a wide shot showing a hill that looks like chapparral, with a series of mountains beyond THAT that look more temperate and have actual snow capped peaks and those are NOT IN THE CREDITS, NONE OF THIS GEOGRAPHY MAKES ACTUAL SENSE, BUT FINE.

Also, it makes zero sense that Minos would send kitchen servants to the forest WAY outside the city limits... wouldn't it be easier for everyone if they sent special people to do that and the kitchen just picked them up or bought them from poorer folk who did? Where are the roads? Are there any surrounding villages and encampments outside the walls? Shepherds watching their flocks? A road? How do the servants know where to go? What stops them from running away? Etc. Etc. I HAVE QUESTIONS, OKAY?

Cut to them in a different forest - still evergreen trees, but a different kind. Looks like a plantation. Everything is too neat and open and in rows. There's greenery, but no sign of any herbs or really any kind of understory. LOL.

Are we there yet? Jason wants to know.

These woods are rich with herbs, Celandine says, and I can't tell if she's being ironic or not because I DO NOT SEE ANY, THERE IS NOTHING BUT CONIFERS HERE, CONIFERS ARE NOT HERBS (though they can have medicinal uses!). Then she adds "If you know where to look" and pulls a knife to stab an unsuspecting Jason while he's looking at the ground, so I guess that answers that question.

(For the record, Celandine is a toxic plant that is actually native to n. Africa, and the Mediterranean and western Asia, so I kinda saw that coming from the name and also the ominous music and close-ups of her face.)

Jason wises up in time to Not Get Stabbed, and Celandine runs away. Jason chases after her, and I saw some FERNS this time in the chase scene, but again NO LEAVES or much in the way of forest diversity at all. Celandine drinks something that looks like poison and dies while Jason is interrogating her. The troll-creature lurks in the woods.

Pythagoras IDs the poison as hemlock. (LOL, of course he would know!) The only reason he doesn't mention that it killed Socrates is probably because Socrates hasn't been born yet, but I am sure the writers were tempted. Jason fell asleep in World History, and also every Literature class ever, because he has no idea what a thyrsus is, or who Dionysus and the maenads are, so Pythagoras and Herc get to explain for the audience! Apparently, the satyrs kill any men who crash their clubhouse, so that's what the troll thing is, I guess?

So apparently the maenads just kidnap girls to join their cult? This is not how I remember it, but okay, fine, let's have the all-female religion be EVIL for DRAMA. Does this mean the trio's going to cross-dress?

Demetria (?) is trying to dig her way out of cell, only to get called to a Secret Evil Ceremony that involves blood, chanting, and tearing apart a dude with their bare hands. Oh, wait, no, they just toss him to the cave trolls (LITERALLY LURKING IN A HOLE IN THE GROUND), which is easier to show on network TV, I guess.

Jason breaks the news to Demetria's father, and he's... aghast. "I won't allow it!" he cries. The show has not explained why it's a bad thing to be a maenad... aside from the whole killing people bit, but I mean, the king kills people all the time in the name of the gods, what makes this any different? (I mean, Minos's evil, but still! He's in charge!) Why can't Demetria be a maenad and still work in the palace and visit her dad? Isn't that what Celandine did?? I AM SO CONFUSED.

Also: father trying to control his daughter's actions is historically accurate, but sits poorly with me, even though she WAS kidnapped in this case and doesn't want to be there. But what if she wasn't? So far the show hasn't explained to me why EVERY WOMAN wouldn't want to be a maenad. Hanging out in the woods without any men and a lot of intoxicants sounds... way better than almost anything else they could be doing.

The old man collapses in grief and Pythagoras is also a healer, because he makes an infusion of what sounds like "Magnolia remenalis" (??). Which is odd because that genus is located in the Americas and eastern Asia, and even assuming trade routes from China are a Thing here, that wouldn't likely be a part of the typical pharmacopeia, especially if Pythagoras has no money...? And I know there are a bajillion species of magnolia, but I've never heard of this... and would he call it by a Latin binomial anyway? But if it's not that, what is he TALKING about? THIS IS WHY I HATE WATCHING THINGS WITHOUT SUBTITLES.

The old man guilts Jason into going after Demetria, of course, thanks to Daddy Issues. Herc is pissed, especially when he realizes they put the old man in his bed. I love Pythagoras's little smile when he explains that Herc is in charge of their guest, since he's not going on the Mission of Certain Doom!

Herc is so predictable, lol. He brings up the prospect of faking his own death to get out of his debts, and I CANNOT HELP BUT WONDER if this is going to be relevant later on. Like... faking your death so the maenads don't find you, perhaps? And changing your name??

(dear writers, if you don't want me to guess your plot twist, please don't PUT THE WHAM LINE IN THE TEASER, kthanx.)

OH MY GOD THIS IS THE SAME FOREST WHERE THEY FILMED THE FIGHT SCENE IN THE FORCE AWAKENS ISN'T IT? I *RECOGNIZE* THIS PLACE!!

(yup, definitely England. Puzzlewood, almost for certain.)

Of course, the most appropriate way to spend the night is to make a fire, eat soup, and tell ghost stories about maenads first, right? Right. The forests rustle. There's a cave troll stalking them. (Yes, it's supposed to be a satyr, but it looks like a cave troll from LOTR, okay??) He tosses something in the food, which probably means it will only impact Hercules, lol. Hallucinations, maybe??

Why anyone would trust Herc with night watch given his track record, ESPECIALLY these two, I don't know, but PLOT.

Yep, definitely the old mine in Puzzlewood. I'd bet money on it.

Herc follows a woman who looks like an elf from LOTR, lol... but it's a satyr in drag. (Or a hallucination?) IDK why everyone is making a big deal about the maenads when they mostly just stand around and let the male satyrs handle everything.

RUN, HERC, RUN! He's rescued by... Demetria, who also wants to get away. Somehow the satyrs don't see them? *shrug*

Demetria uses Herc's knife and cuts herself and walks out with a bloody mouth, claiming the satyrs killed Herc and she drank his blood... I mean, won't the satyrs call her on it?? But the ruse works and she leaves with them.

Meanwhile, Jason and Pythagoras slept through the entire night without incident, and I just... the satyrs KNOW THERE ARE THREE OF THEM. How come they didn't just slaughter them in their sleep, or at least attack them??

Also, if the satyrs only eat human flesh, how does the ecosystem even WORK? How many of them are there?? How often do they eat? Are they omnivores or obligate carnivores? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.

#bbc atlantis #lily liveblogs

13 notes · View notes

comicteaparty · 5 years ago

Text

July 20th-July 26th, 2020 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from July 20th, 2020 to July 26th, 2020. The chat focused on Ring Spell by Artem Ficta.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Ring Spell by Artem Ficta~! (http://ring-spell.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace until July 26th, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Discussions are freeform, but we do offer discussion prompts in the pins for those who’d like to have them. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic! Whether you finish the comic or can only read a few pages, everyone is welcome to join and chat with us!

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 1

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic?

2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)?

3. Who is your favorite character?

4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most?

5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores?

7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content?

8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

Feather J. Fern

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic? I like how it seems lighthearted at first, but knowing Artem it's going to drop the ball on us really soon haha.(edited)

Also I always love how the backgrounds are, they look great.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Hahah, it's a shame I didn't get one more update up XD Thank you so much, Feather~!

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

well, the CTP is gonna run for the rest of the week...

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I can't finish the next 8 pages by then XD

My guess is they'll be up the week after next

RebelVampire

For the beginning, I'm with Feather and I like how quickly the comic transitions from just lalala happy school to oh wait there's weird shit going on. I really like stories where the status quo is quickly ripped out from under your feet. My favorite moment in the comic so far is probably the most recent scene when we get to see Lyall's apartment and ya know, Claire starts dropping all these bombshells on us. The scene is the epitome of "Well that escalated quickly" and its just loaded with so much info to unpack. My favorite character right now is Claire. One because she seems the most sensible and mysterious, and two because I love Claire's hair so much and I'm so jealous and want such floof beautiful hair. ;3; As for characters I like see interacting the most, probably Claire and Lyall and they have some really good banter and a relationship, insofar, that's just kind of hilarious in its brutal honesty. A close second for me is Claire and Tasha as it quickly switches from happy smiles to probably most likely to have a catfight in the hallway.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Catfight in the hallway, lolol. Makes me want to draw them dressed like cat girls XD

RebelVampire

No not that sort of catfight

probably

O_O

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

comic turns into a catgirl fetish comic

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

1. I like how the first word is Zenchav which was the title of the comic this is a hard reboot of XD 2. My favorite moment was Lyall sticking his hands up Damon's shirt XD I really like how it was drawn and it's the most Lyall thing ever to do. 3. My favorite character overall is Damon, although it's probably Lyall at this point in the story. But I like them all of course XD 4. Damon and anybody, lol. I like when I get to draw him XD 5. I've been trying out a new shading style with this since I almost exclusively just hard shaded before, so it's nice to be branching out a bit and trying some new things. The Intro page is probably my favorite atm.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

Theory: Lyall sticking his cold hands up Damon's shirt is how he drains Damon's energy, because secretly he's the witch.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Oh no! XD that would be a twist!

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Oh snap!

mathtans

Hmmm, so we ship Claire and Tasha then?

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I don't not ship Tasha and Claire >v>

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Drew that picture of them

RebelVampire

We should indeed all suspect Lyall. I mean no parents, lives alone, yet somehow affords everything? That's witchery.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

How does he afford all that stuff

does he sell drugs on the side or something XD it is suspicious

mathtans

1. I'll mostly echo everyone else here in terms of the start seems pretty straightforward and makes one wonder how the teaser page fits into it all. I'll add a remark on the subtle details of world building, like you've got your digital alarm... and dude straight up has a TAIL, and it's like, no comment, that's normal too.

2. Favourite moment was probably recruiting Claire into the cosplay skit. It's like, hello new person, oh you want to associate with us? Then you need the proper accessories, and Claire's all 'Um, I'm not sure... prop weapons? Uh, okay then...' Cosplay is a force to be reckoned with. (nods)

3. Fave character... yeah, may have to echo Rebel here and go with Claire. Possibly because she's the first chapter name, and like the reader is coming into this new situation, so can get behind her trying to figure it out... but also because I'm big on the time/space bureau stuff and that sounds like a cool job to get.

Damon has a cool cane and has the mysterious ailment afflicting his cosplay though, so he's my fave guy at the moment. (Werewolf blood? Moon thing? Dunno.)

4. I honestly do like the Tasha/Claire interactions the most, because each of them seems to have something to hide, and so you're kind of wondering if and when one of them might slip up. The other girl interrupting with the paint was classic, and I felt it helped break tension. The ship picture (which I imagine won't show in the log) is kind of representative of that with the chessboard too, like they're making moves against the other (though I'm not yet convinced that one is a witch, could be a setup).

Of course, I'm very biased towards the yuri, so grain of salt for my opinions and all. And while the ship was a humour comment at first, I think I'm more into it after seeing a "catfight" could play out.

All that said, the Lyall/Damon interactions are equally good. Lyall's perversion sometimes saying the quiet part out loud.

5. I recognize the art style, have read some of the work before (under different name). Always find the hair impressive, like here you get the impression of each individual strand except that's not actually what's drawn... you can still see the neat ears, Claire having some strands that fall in front of her too. The shading is really good too, like definitely shades of grey, not just black and white.

Kind of echoing the author there, but I can see it.

I'm so bad with themes and need to charge computer, will be back later. o.o

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I love all this input Math, thank you ;3;/

RebelVampire

@mathtans You have no idea how happy I am that someone noticed the tail that nobody seemed to comment on.

RebelVampire

What I like about the art is how clean and crisp everything is cause mmmm that sexy lineart you can just paint bucket when needed. <3 I like that the comic explores the idea of having someone you've known your entire life possibly be evil. Cause it opens up a lot of questions. Like should you doubt? Should you trust? And at which point have you hit the point of betrayal? So I'm glad we'll get to see a bit of this tackled as Lyall and Claire look for evidence. As for the overall story, I like that there's just lots of questions going on. It's a theorists dream. But I find the more mysteries a comic has, the more engaging it is. Because even when you know the answer, it's interesting everytime to see the characters reach that answer. As for the comic's strengths, see the above and the art. It's super pretty and clean to look at, has some fantastic emotive faces during the more comedic moments, and there's just lots to theorize and look forward too. ;3;

Now I will proceed to weep as someone who beta read the script and actually can't theorize cause I just know .

mathtans

Others may have noticed but not been sure what to say? (Does the tail turn into the cane?)

6. Ok, themes... could be a theme of belonging in there. Like Claire being accepted into the group, like Lyall wondering if she's only talking to him to get to Damon, that sort of thing? Then there's the idea Rebel raised of thinking you know someone but not necessarily knowing them.

Of course, there's also credibility, like maybe Claire is simply an escaped mental patient with really good hacking skills to get herself in the school and apartment. Because that's quite the tale she spins. (Though Lyall had heard of the organization? Or he's pranking her, bit hard to know for sure.)

7/8. The story's been setting up a number of things in the background, I feel. Which can be a strength, as we're learning more character items first. Though Claire's latest revelation I'm really jazzed about, because the idea of time travel (times when demons weren't supposed to be) and personification (Earth as a female entity) are right up my alley. So that's cool.

Also Lyall apparently has a strange aura to go with Tasha's strange energy? Maybe the witch is jumping bodies. Maybe we should ship Lyall/Tasha.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Oh my gosh, loving these ideas!

I don't want to give spoilers but I think I'll answer the tail thing cause I never really meant for it to be a mystery It's just tucked into his pants when he's in public is all. That's why he's wearing the track suit for the school and not the standard school uniform, cause the pants are looser.

although it turning into the cane could have been hella cool(edited)

now I'm a little bummed I never thought of that

But the cane has other purposes

mathtans

I didn't really think it was a big mystery, and that explanation makes sense. (So I suppose it could be not normal, only normal for Damon's friends... demon prejudice otherwise?) Ok, so the cane is where he hides his stimulants to keep awake until the full moon.

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 2

9. What are your theories about Damon’s past? Why is he concerned about when the full moon is? Additionally, what do you think was meant about Damon and Xerfonos being the same age but not being twins?

10. Do you think Claire is right that Tasha is the witch Cadence? If so, how will she prove it? If not, who else could it be? Also, what might this all have to do with Tasha’s concern about Claire being the mysterious Draco’s student?

11. What do you think Cadence ultimately wants from Damon? Why would this compel the Earth, and by extension Apus, to protect him? Also, even if the characters find Cadence, can she actually be stopped?

12. Why do you think Lyall reacted so strangely to Claire mentioning Apus, and why do you think he’s so sure Apus wouldn’t care about protecting Damon? Do you think Lyall can trust Claire even for the long term?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

mathtans

9. I mean, Damon seems to be a demon, but he's cool with being in our world, so... maybe he was born of a human/demon pairing? Or he was adopted by humans when he was a baby and simply given the same birthday as Xerfonos. I'm guessing the full moon has more significance than merely to werewolves (unless Damon needs to bite a werewolf to regain strength idk) and so it would help him.

I will say that initially the "same age" thing didn't phase me because there's more than 9 months in a year, plenty of time for having a second kid born in the same year. But now that I'm debating the adoption angle, maybe there's more to it.

They're not twins... they're TRIPLETS! Dun dun dun. Anyway.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

they could also just not be twins due to a date technicality like one was born right before midnight and one was born right after

but yeah the adoption angle would explain a lot

mathtans

10. I don't think she's right about Tasha, or if she's right, not in the way she thinks. Because we've seen some from Tasha's perspective and she didn't seem to be the person in charge of whatever. In terms of proof, I guess she could see if Tasha would cosplay as a witch? And if the shoe fits? But yeah, maybe the witch is jumping between people like I mentioned earlier, or is not actually there yet, like APUS got the date wrong or something. Maybe Tasha's also trying to protect Damon from the witch (hence trying to give him that new name) but it's a rival organization?

I mean, technically still twins in that case, just not having the same birthday. (If Feb 29th enters into it, it gets even weirder.)

Actually, why wouldn't Claire use Damon's given name? Maybe her organization doesn't know everything it thinks it does?

Anyway, just had time for some random thoughts. Back later tonight.

mathtans

11. Cadence may just want him to keep living so that she can keep siphoning off energy. (Thus perhaps APUS wants him dead, it's not about protection?!) Or maybe Cadence wants a sweet cosplay. (Probably not.) Of course, it might be that if she's a free floating witch, she wants his body. Maybe she can't be stopped, but could be redirected?

The Earth aspect is one I haven't really been able to figure out yet. (Are pavonis a type of pasta?) But maybe there's a destiny or something that Damon needs to fulfil first.

12. Lyall could have been pranking, but maybe he knows a different organization like that... or maybe that's the name of some mystery file on his computer that he hasn't been able to open because the Cadence inside him hasn't revealed the password, oooh. I think Lyall can trust Claire (assuming she's not a raving lunatic) and she might even need him to provide better cover (she didn't seem to even know what apartment she was in)... but that's short term. Long term is another question, if she starts getting Apus directives saying to do things he wouldn't agree with.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

This is all so interesting ;3;

Pavonis as a type of pasta, lolol

mathtans

I'm glad it's more interesting than rambly.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Nah, I love it XD I'm afraid I'd give spoilers if I said anymore lmao

RebelVampire

My theories about Damon's past are that he's a werewolf. And that something about being a werewolf has changed how he ages compared to Xerfonos - thus why they're the same age but not twins. Granted I guess they could also just be half brothers who have a shared father who said, "Man I should knock two girls up at once." But werewolf sounds more interesting. No I think we've established Lyall is clearly the witch. He is too suspicious. Tasha probably is a super secret agent or something, hence the suspicion. Maybe Apus is into some shady shit that Tasha knows about, especially Draco, so she doesn't want them jumping in on everything. As for how proof, she won't. Cadence will reveal she's Lyall when the most damage can be caused and Claire will weep her career as a detective is through. Cadence might just think Damon is hot. Although I think Damon has a grand destiny ahead of him, and Cadence wants to interfere with that destiny while also bulking up on some of that tasty werewolf energy. Also, can Cadence be stopped? Probably. But definitely not by these chumps right now. XD Lyall reacted strangely cause that was the Cadence in him going oh shit and kind of taking over. And sure, Lyall can trust Claire to never figure out its him. Sorry Claire, you hot, but clearly aren't noticing some stuff.

mathtans

I hadn't considered the "same father different mothers" angle. O.o Maybe it was a sperm donation sort of thing though?

As to Claire, maybe Tasha will be nice enough to buy Claire ice cream and give her snuggles once she realizes the error of her ways.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Tasha and Claire will get to snuggling at some point I'm sure XD

The same father with different mothers sounds most probable

of what's been mentioned at least

mathtans

I mean, time travel could also be involved. What with Apus.

Maybe Claire is Damon's daughter and she's trying to protect her own existence.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Maybe Claire is Xerfonos' mother

Wait, I don't think that'd work out lmao

Daughter would be way more probable

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 3

13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic?

14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

I look forward to getting a bit further into the story XD it's still pretty early on atm and there's a lot of really good scenes later. I don't feel like we've really gotten to know Damon yet either

RebelVampire

I am looking forward to seeing people's theories as the story continues and pieces fall into place. It will be interesting to see the routes people take with the ideas of what the answers are going to be. My final words are just read the comic. O_O

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I didn't end up having any brain power to write responses over the week, but I really enjoyed Ring Spell. Damon and his brother are cuties, Claire seems very capable, and I can't wait to find out what Tasha's motives are. I'm real excited to see how the themes of magical marital vows come to the forefront :3

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Thank you~!

mathtans

Busy weekend was busy. Looking forward to seeing how the Apus thing fits in, like is Claire even from their time period? Will Lyall spill all the secrets? Will the ships happen? I'm so behind in all my reading but I've flagged it to check back when I can.

There was also the bit at the start implying knowing people from other lives, but the time travel possibilities make that weird. And I guess there's also the question of whether a Ring will have a Spell on it. Like, maybe the witch doesn't know she's the witch while she's wearing a ring? Or they have to get her to wear a ring? Here I am guessing again. ^^

14. To conclude, all the best with it, looks like a good setup. I do enjoy the art style too.

Also I guess congrats on being the finale CTP? Nice that you got it in there. Good initiative.

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

Thank you so much Math~!

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Ring Spell this week! Please also give a special thank you to Artem Ficta for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Ring Spell, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: http://ring-spell.com/

Artem Ficta’s Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/artemficta

Artem Ficta’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/ArtemFicta

#ctparchive #webcomics #indie comics #comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic bookclub #webcomic book club #comic tea party #ctp #ring spell #artem ficta

1 note · View note

gia-l-mar-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Exploring childhood trauma and its effect on adulthood.

Currently, I am required to take an English 115 course where I thought I’d just be doing basic English learning things such as grammar, writing essays about whatnot, and taking a bunch of quizzes. I already assumed the negative and prepared myself for a long boring semester of English class. However, during some point in the semester, the topic turned to a book called “We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves” by Karen Joy Fowler, where the book follows the chaotic but intriguing life of UC Davis college student named Rosemary, who grew up with a chimp as a sibling, has a runaway brother that is wanted, and two semi deranged parents. To follow up with the book, my English 115 class also watched a documentary titled Project Nim, which is quite similar to the book but documents a different experience that is under the same criteria and theme. Scientists wanted to create and discover verbal communication between chimps and humans, so when Nim the chimp was just a baby, he was given to a human family to see if he can be conformed to society and communicate verbally. Overall, the experiment did not go well and caused many issues within the family and most prominently to Nim. The book and documentary opened a discussion about many issues such as trauma, memory, communication, and childhood. This part of the class became really intriguing to me, and although I had and still have a really hard time keeping up with English 115, the topics discussed are of great interest to me and I loved discussing it. I decided to narrow down my topic and do further research into childhood trauma affecting one’s adulthood, which was a recurring theme in both the book and documentary and that I actually found relevant to myself as well. I’ve come to the conclusion through my research and in-class activities that one’s childhood is a great influence in the way a person develops in present time and in their future, and if not raised correctly and/or unfortunate events have occurred in one’s life, then certain behaviors and psychological disorders are developed as a result of those events or experiences, and can negatively impact the development of the brain. For the rest of my mini-essay/blog, I want to explore the research I did and elaborate more on the documentary and book to further prove my conclusion of the impact of childhood trauma on adulthood.

Throughout the book, it is quite evident that Rosemary has many issues that stemmed from her childhood, with the chimp being the greatest factor of them all. The most saddening moment in Rosemary’s life was when her “sister” Fern, also known as the chimpanzee, randomly “disappeared” one day. It is quite obvious that being raised with a chimp is a whole different experience than being raised with a human sibling. With that being said, because Rosemary considered Fern as a sibling, she developed different perspectives, expectations, and social interactions as a result of conforming to Fern and her ways of interacting. As a result, this caused Rosemary to be an awkward child, and even an awkward adult in her social interactions. She felt as if she had no friends and had a hard time communicating with others. However, Rosemary did, in fact, make one friend. In the opening introduction of the book, Rosemary witnesses a chaotic argument between a woman and who it seemed to be her boyfriend. Out of impulse, Rosemary becomes dramatic as well and joins in. They both disrupted the peace of the environment and both got arrested. While under custody, the woman introduces herself as Harlow Fielding, who is also a UC Davis student studying drama (how ironic). Rosemary stated specifically that she was intrigued by Harlow and decided to interact with her because she exhibited the same characteristics of a chimpanzee (A.K.A Fern); being impulsive and reckless. With the information about some scenes and about the characters I have provided, it is evident that there is a deeper psychological meaning to the actions taken and the effects of certain outcomes as well, and how it plays into how someone may act or perceive the world due to the way they were raised or through past experiences.

Through my research, I found that people who have experienced childhood maltreatment or trauma may reflect those same experiences through their behavior or how they react to people and situations. It was also found that they may be drawn to people who exhibit the same characteristics as the people who they interacted with during their trauma and childhood experiences (Mulder, Tim, Kimberly C Kuiper, Claudia E Van Der Put, Geert-Jan J.M Stams, and Mark Assink, 2018). For example, as mentioned in the previous paragraph, Rosemary found herself intrigued by Harlow due to the fact that she showed many similarities to Fern, who is someone that was dear to Rosemary and was suddenly taken away from her. Although Fern may have a special place in Rosemary’s heart, it does not mean that Fern was a positive influence in Rosemary’s life. Fern was reckless, impulsive, sometimes violent, and caused problems, and because of this it became normal to Rosemary; therefore, it became a behavior that Rosemary exhibited and behavior that Rosemary was attracted to, hence the curiosity she had with Harlow. Harlow was not exactly a good influence on Rosemary and trapped Rosemary into many different issues. Wrapping and connecting all of this information up, it is evident that someone who was greatly influenced by someone in their life, positive or negative, and experienced some sort of trauma or great event in their life, will be drawn to the same negative behavior and experiences that ultimately will affect their behavior, way of life, and social interactions.

Moving on to Project Nim, I just want to say it was an extremely saddening documentary. What those people put the poor chimp through just for a psychology experiment was hard to watch, that ultimately left Nim with what it seemed like an identity crisis, trauma, violence, and non-conformed behavior that was uncontrollable, which was all due to the fact that he was given to a human family to be raised in. The first caretaker he was given to was an American family whose task was to raise Nim as a human child to conform him to society. Nim learned some English Sign Language (ESL), but he still acted like a chimp and would act out in violence where he would destroy their house or hurt the family members. This eventually became too much for the family to handle and for the next several years Nim was passed down to different caretakers because he was simply too much to handle for humans. Eventually, Nim was moved to a notorious research facility that kept chimps in small cages with other chimps. Nim had an extremely hard time socializing with other chimps as he was raised by humans and was constantly picked on by the other chimps. It was evident through Nim’s behavior and facial expressions that he was full of fear and sadness, almost as if he was in a depressive state.

'Keeping Chimpanzees In Cages Is Torture', Bob Ingersoll.

Fortunately, Nim was moved to a ranch for abused animals where he was able to spend the last of his years in harmony and peace. The life of Nim was one that was especially important because his saddening experience as a science experiment and documentary brought awareness to the fact that one, chimps and animals are not for our amusement to use as our experiments, and two, chimps should not be confined in cages in research facilities that causes many mental issues and trauma to the chimps, who have scientifically been proven countless of times that they are just as smart and aware as humans, and their brains are no different than ours.

Going into the research I did about trauma, since the brains of chimpanzees are extremely similar to that of a human, we can draw the same conclusions to get an estimate as to how they develop certain behaviors throughout their life, and a lot of the conclusions drawn is just simple cause and effect as well. As mentioned previously, the chimp’s trauma began when they took him from his mother and in the arms of complete strangers. You may think it was extremely hard for the family to raise Nim as he’s just an animal, but imagine being disciplined for who you are and the nature of your being, which would ultimately create an identity crisis for Nim. Studies have shown that children who are in abusive households tend to exhibit the same behavior while interacting with other people and especially in schools, where reinforcement is needed by special staff and more caretaking (Shen, April Chiung-Tao, 2009). This information can be compared to Nim’s experience where he was put into a cage with other chimps of his own kind for the very first time. Because Nim was raised by a human, his behavior was more similar to the way they raised him rather than how an actual chimp would act. As a result, the other chimps would bully him and Nim became lonely, this caused him to go into a deep depressive state. Nim also had violent behaviors with most humans and would not want to interact with them at all. With research, I found that this behavior is a result of childhood betrayment that causes negative behavior towards people who have similar characteristics to the person that originally caused their trauma (Hocking, Elise C, Raluca M Simons, and Renata J Surette, 2016). With this research, it can be concluded that Nim felt betrayed by his original family and by humans in general while he was being passed down to different caretakers and put into a research facility, that caused him to be violent or negative with humans in general.

Concluding all of the research I have done, and the in-class assignments of reading the book and watching the documentary, it is quite evident that childhood trauma and certain experiences through one’s life can negatively affect the way that someone may see the world, how the world perceives them, and their overall behavior and social interactions. The book and documentary is a good way to see the trauma and its outcomes come into play, and how it affects one's life. It creates more personal experience as you can see the struggles of Rosemary and Nim and how they adapt to their later life with what they know from their experiences and how they conformed to society. The research was an add on and helped further prove and conclude my statement, creating a deeper understanding of the book and documentary, and even for one’s self. I hope that this mini-essay/blog helped you better understand yourself, a loved one, or someone you may know if they act in a particularly negative way. If you notice someone or something is off in their behavior and social interactions, remember to be the bigger person and maybe ask if they’re okay, they may be going through something. To further wrap up my text, if you may think that you are going through something similar do not hesitate to reach out for professional help, to do research, or talk to someone you can trust. Everything has a fix, it just takes time.

1 note · View note

missnighttigress · 6 years ago

Text

I’ll Be Home for Christmas

Characters: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Reader (specifically targeted to @oh-snap-bucky)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (@oh-snap-bucky)

Word Count: 4,418

Summary: Y/N was always in the Christmas spirit, even when times were tough for Team Cap during their rogue days. After losing the love of her life in the snap, Christmas has lost its luster for her. Irritated by being around the compound, she sets off for home, hoping for a break and maybe a chance to start some other traditions. This continues for five years until one particular trip proves to be particularly enchanting...

Warnings: angst, mild language (a curse word sprinkled intermittently), heartbreak, fluff at the end I promise

A/N: I had the tremendous honor of being the Secret Santa for @oh-snap-bucky for @itsbuckysworld‘s Marvel Secret Santa this year. I went through her wishlist and hoped to touch point by point. Merry Christmas, dear, and I really hope you enjoy. I am so terribly sorry for the heartbreak. After Infinity War and the Endgame trailer, I’ve just been feeling this vibe. I hope you have a spectacular holiday!

Christmas was a magical season. People had pine trees that glistened with twinkling lights and glittering tinsel. Stores decked themselves out in reds, greens, and silvers as they urged you to purchase the perfect gift for your someone special at their location. Radios buzzed with holiday carols in hopes of making listeners dream of snowy pastures and hot cocoa snuggles by the fire.

Indeed, Christmas was supposed to be a magical season. But for Y/N, this particular Christmas had lost all its enchanting luster. That’s because her longtime boyfriend, Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, wouldn’t be home this Christmas...thanks to a giant purple space freak.

As the year slipped further into the holiday season, Y/N became more and more irritable. As much as she tried to hide it, she couldn’t conceal much from her and Bucky’s best friend, Steve Rogers.

Y/N was sprawled out across one of the common room couches, her thumb constantly flipping through channels on the enormous flat screen television. News channels were covering how people were handling the holidays with half the population missing. Freeform was showing nothing but holiday movies, and she couldn’t even look at the root-your-teeth-out romantic crap Hallmark was airing. A snarl ripped from her throat as she turned the TV off, whipping the remote in a nearby armchair before draping an arm over cerulean eyes.

“I take it there’s nothing on?”

The voice from behind the couch made her rip her arm away to stare into concerned baby blues hovering over her. She sighed and shook her head. “Not a damn thing. Everything is either rubbing salt in the wound from the decimation or it’s sappy romantic bullshit.”

Steve cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowing. “The Y/N I know is a sucker for that sappy romantic stuff.”

She growled again before pushing herself off the leather couch and onto the floor to pace. “That was before Thanos disintegrated the people I love, those I care about.” Her hands reached up to rake through her shoulder-length blonde hair. She walked a few feet before slowly rotating on her heel, eyes now red and threatening to overflow with the tears that sat on the edges of them. “Stevie…” she whispered, “I...I can’t be here for the holidays. Not this year.”

Sadness and understanding flooded his face. In the months since Thanos’ snap, he knew Y/N was having a difficult time. When she wasn’t at a training session, she was holed up in her room with a movie or a book, trying to lose herself in any world that wasn’t crashing around her. Prior to then, she was the bubbly, cheery one that made everyone get involved in whatever activity she was doing, especially when they went into hiding. His chest heaved in a heavy sigh. “If you can’t be here, where will you go?”

She rolled her shoulders in a weak shrug. “My parents’ place, maybe? Just for a couple weeks until the holiday season is behind me. I just can’t stay...here.”

“I get it,” Steve murmured, advancing towards her. “You’re one of my closest friends, Y/N. As much as I want to be selfish and keep you around, that’s not fair to you. Being here is going to remind you of him too much. You should go home. You need a break. Just...promise me one thing, won’t you?”

“Anything.”

A tiny smile formed over his lips, but the worry was still evident in his face. Worry that if she went home she’d never come back unless Bucky was found...if he could be found. “Promise me that you’ll come back?”

Y/N choked out a laugh and soft sob as she jumped to wrap her arms around Steve (as much as she could anyway). She buried her head against his chest. “You’re such a punk, Steve. I’m going to come back after the holidays, I promise.”

“Good,” he breathed, swooping down to give her a ginger peck on the head. “Because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, too.”

Steve’s words echoed in Y/N’s ears as she packed her suitcase to head to her parents’ place. For a while, she couldn’t help the pang of guilt that riddled her stomach. Steve was hurting too, everyone was, and Christmas was supposed to be a season of togetherness. She wasn’t really embracing the “togetherness” spirit by taking off.

Then again, how could she be “together” if a piece of her heart was missing? Her mind trailed to a tall man with long tendrils of dark chocolate with piercing eyes that could kill a man if he wanted...or cut her to her core as he often did. She thought about the first time she met Bucky, when Steve had contacted her for intel while he was on the run after the Sokovia Accords situation. That smolder of his as his eyes traced her up and down triggered a fire inside her, one she couldn’t quell without being around him. A few flirtatious meetings later, and he finally had the cajones to ask her on a proper date. When he and the rest of Team Cap had to go underground, there was no question about it. She went with them more than willingly. Even though the conditions weren’t always the best and they were always looking over their shoulders, she and Bucky made the best of everything...because they found each other.

That night, she dreamed of her former Hydra super soldier. She dreamed about their first Christmas together, when she found this beautiful fern someone was throwing out on the side of the road and brought it back to the run-down motel they were in. Her hands were immediately busy with her sketchbook, drawing little trees and holiday ornaments. Quickly, she worked to carefully rip around the edges of her scribbles, leaving ample room at the top for her to tear a hole in them in order to hang. When Bucky came back that night, he was taken aback at the makeshift Christmas tree, but then immediately peppered Y/N with kisses to show his appreciation.

She couldn’t help but replay the dream during the tedious drive to her parent’s place. It sprinkled in between thoughts of Steve and the bear hug they shared before she got in the car. He checked her oil and tire pressure for her before she left, and she gave him the address she’d be at on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, in case he needed a break too.

After quite the trek, the vehicle roared up to the roadside curb in front of her parents’ place. Her eyes fixated on her childhood home, where a dark figure stood on the top step of the wooden porch. Though dusk was approaching, she could tell by the broad shoulders that it was her father.

There was a huge wolf-like creature resting on his haunches next to her father, and the sight of the dog made Y/N’s eyes brighten. Instantly, she clamored out of the car and ran to the other side, arms flying open. “Apollo! C’mere, baby!”

Her father dropped Apollo’s leash, and this husky came barreling at the woman. He slowed upon approach so as not to knock her over, but his whole body wagged in excitement at seeing his owner after so long. He licked a stripe up her cheek as her fingers ruffled his fur. “Who’s a good boy?” she cooed. “Apollo’s my good boy!”

After a moment, she rose to her feet and started up to the home while her dad stepped down to the sidewalk. As soon as she reached him, he took her in his arms and gave her a tight squeeze. “My baby, Y/N. I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her hair, his voice breaking.

Y/N swallowed thickly, trying not to lose her composure as well. “I...I missed you too, Dad.”

The two pulled apart after holding each other a while, her dad instantly reaching up to collect the tears at the sides of his eyes. “I’m...I’m glad you decided to come home for the holidays this year. This was going to be a hard year without you or your mother…”

The lump was even harder in Y/N’s throat. She wasn’t the only one to lose the love of her life. Her parents had been out antiquing when the snap happened, and her mother turned to ash in front of her father just as Bucky had. It was another reason why she wanted to go home for the holidays. Her dad needed her more than Steve and the others did. “I’m sorry, Dad. The team...you know, they’re all racking their brains to come up with a solution.”

“If there even is one.”

There was a lingering silence between the two of them before her father shook his head and clapped a hand on her back, pushing her toward the door. “C’mon, kiddo. Enough sadness. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company and get the holidays started right, huh?”

The first few days Y/N spent with her father were great. She really couldn’t complain. They both understood how the other felt about the holiday season right then, and they tried to veer away from doing anything too holiday-oriented. They watched action movies or old westerns while snacking on chips, and took Apollo out for strolls around the neighborhood. Their idea of a Christmas tree this year was one of those ceramic trees with little pegs that lit up. That was all the festive they were getting.

That was, until Christmas Eve came around. Y/N’s aunt invited them over for a Christmas Eve party, and her dad was all gung-ho and ready to go. Y/N...not so much. Christmas Day was special, sure. Christmas Eve, however, was always the most fun with Bucky.

“I don’t really feel like going to [Y/A/N]’s tonight, Dad,” she murmured, curled up on their couch with Apollo on the opposite end. “It’s going to be a lot of Christmas trees and cookies and holiday carols and it’s just...it’s going to be too hard.”

[Y/D/N] cocked an eyebrow from his recliner toward his daughter. “But you love going over there! It’s Aunt [A/N] we’re talking about here! Doesn’t she always slip you $10?”

Her fingers fiddled with the fur by Apollo’s collar idly. “I do love her, Dad, but this has nothing to do with that. Christmas Eve was always special with Bucky. We had our own traditions that we started together and I don’t get to do that this year.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

She raised her eyes to meet her father’s.

“You know, neither your mother nor this Bucky fellow would want us to sit here and mourn during what’s supposed to be a happy time. I won’t force you to go...but I’m going because your mother would kick my ass if I sat here and moped around. Promise me you won’t do the same.”

She sighed and scooped Apollo’s head from her legs, moving them before placing him back on the cushion. “I’m not. I’m going out, too.”

In typical father fashion, she was met with a gruff, “Where to?”

Her shoulders rolled in a shrug as she grabbed her jacket, purse and keys. “Out. Around town. Crazy. I don’t really know, Dad. It’s just wherever the road takes me.” As she was getting ready, she caught a glimpse of his features twisted in worry. Her cerulean orbs rolled as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I work with the Avengers, for crying out loud, Dad. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He grumbled a bit before giving her a small nod. “You’re right. Just be careful and have your butt back in this house by 11 o’clock. Santa starts his rounds at midnight, you know.”

She couldn’t help but snort at the sentiment as she stepped through the door. “Love you, Dad!”

Y/N drove around town for a while, weaving through the streets and losing herself in her thoughts. She thought about the Christmas Eve traditions she started with Bucky, how goofy they were but they had meant the world to her...and to him as well it seemed. She went out every year and would buy them a new set of Christmas pajamas to wear, one small game each, a mug, a snack and a pack of hot cocoa and wrap those items up in a box for them to open on Christmas Eve. The year prior, she bought him a green light-up onesie that said “fa-la-la-llama” and had a big wool llama on it. Though he grumbled and griped, he snatched it from her hands when she went to take it back and wore it with pride, even if Steve and Natasha both keeled over cackling at him.

She couldn’t help but smile at the memory as she turned onto a road that led outside the town and into the countryside. As she raced past the lines of oaks and maples, she thought about taking Bucky back there, showing him where she grew up. She envisioned taking Apollo for a walk in the forest until they came to a clearing, where Bucky would have laid out this little picnic (complete with snacks for the pupper). They would devour the food while savoring each other’s presence and the majestic scenery before he’d twist to her and take her hand, opening a small square velvet box…

If they ever saw Thanos again, she’d do what Thor didn’t and aim right for his bulbous head.

Bright neon lights flashed “Late Night Dine Right” up ahead, breaking her from her rage momentarily. Her gut let out a deep growl, and she realized she hadn’t eaten much all day. A diner burger did sound really good just then.

Once she had the car safely parked in their gravel parking lot, she sauntered in and was immediately transported back to the 1950s. They really made the place look like a classic diner. The floor was coated in white and black checkered linoleum. The candy-apple-red booths and barstools were leather, puffed up to look extra inviting and comfortable. The tabletops were solid, white with a few scuff marks from the millions of plates they probably saw slide across them. In one corner of the room was an old-time jukebox, radiating red, orange and yellow neon while it crooned Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” She couldn’t help but snort slightly. Bucky would have loved the place.

“Go ahead and make yourself at home, sweet pea! I’ll be right with you!”

The silvery voice broke Y/N away from her appreciation of the scene in front of her and onto the woman behind the counter. The woman looked to be in her 50s or 60s. Her curly red hair was pinned up in a Lucille Ball style, her lips painted fire engine red. The dress she donned was a Tiffany blue with a white waist apron. Y/N reached her own arm and gave it a slight pinch. No, this wasn’t some oddly specific facet of her imagination. This was the real world.

Shrugging her jacket off, she followed the waitress’s orders and slid into a booth right by the door, facing across from the jukebox. Menus were resting right on the table, so she grabbed one to peruse. Chicken parmesan, eggs benedict, t-bone steak with hash browns...everything sounded so good. Before she got the most extravagant thing, though, she wanted to try a hamburger. You could usually tell how good the rest of the food was at a place if their burgers were up to snuff. Just as she was placing the menu back in its holder, the waitress appeared by her table.

“Hi there, sweet pea. I’m Miss Georgia and I’m going to be your waitress this evening. What can I get you to drink?”

Up close, she could see that Georgia had dark circles under her eyes, no doubt from busting her rear working at a 24/7 diner on Christmas Eve. Suddenly, Y/N felt very sheepish and very guilty.

“I’m sorry, Georgia. I didn’t even think. I shouldn’t be making you work extra on Christmas Eve.”

Georgia offered her a genuine smile. “Oh honey. I’d be working my tail off whether you were here or not. You seem like a sweetheart and aren’t gonna cause me any problems, unlike half the drunk clientele I get in here. Now, what can I get ya?”

Y/N gave the woman a warm grin. “Water with lemon, please.”

“‘Water with lemon,’” Georgia repeated, scribbling the drink order in her notepad. “And judging by how you put that menu back, I’m guessing you’re ready to order. What would you like?”

“I’d like a double cheeseburger please, with cheddar if you have it, and a side of seasoned fries.”

Georgia’s fingers scribbled the order quickly and she gave Y/N another wide smirk. “A woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. Sweet pea, I like you. Order’s coming right up, okay?”

“Thank you!” Y/N called as she took the order back to the kitchen. She waited a moment before digging in her purse and retrieving her sketchbook and pencil case, spreading the materials out on the table in front of her. She opened the book to a random page, and a gasp escaped her lips.

Inside the random page she chose was a picture she had tucked away. A tall man with long, dark chocolate tendrils was staring straight out of the photo and into her heart, it felt like. His cocky smirk made her heart race, her breath stop. She was the one who took the photo during one of their first dates at a Romanian cafe, and she had completely forgot about it. Tears stung her eyes.

She was so focused on her find that she didn’t even notice Georgia’s return until the water was placed in front of her. “Oh my, what a little cutie! Is that your boyfriend?”

Y/N could do nothing but swallow and nod.

“You got yourself quite a catch! He looks so handsome and mysterious. Almost reminds me of someone my grandmother once dated actually. She took a picture with him at Coney Island. Huh. Maybe a distant relative.” Georgia stopped momentarily, her head craning to get into your line of vision. “Sweet pea, it’s Christmas Eve! There’s no crying on Christmas Eve!”

Y/N sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “S-Sorry. It’s just...Christmas was one of our favorite seasons together.”

Georgia offered a sympathetic nod. “My Henry was like that as well. This is...this is my first season without him actually. That’s why I’ve buried myself in shifts here. One day, I was cooking in our kitchen and he was in the living room. I heard him call for me, and I caught the tail end of him turning into ash right in front of my eyes.”

Y/N looked up at the woman, whose jungle green eyes were glistening with tears. “Oh, Miss Georgia. I’m so sorry. That’s...I lost Bucky that way, too.”

There was a sigh from the waitress. “Well...they say that the Avengers are actively working on a solution, if there even is one. If they had been around prior to all this happening, maybe it wouldn’t even be a problem.”

Y/N wanted to leap to the defense of her team, but Georgia was suffering just as much as she was, and in times of crisis, people looked for someone to blame even if they didn’t deserve that blame. If...when they found a solution to what happened, a reversal, maybe then people wouldn’t be so harsh on the team.

“I’ll be home for Christmas…”

Georgia snarled from the tableside. “Now, how rude is that? That damn jukebox is playing on our misery! Huh uh. No way.” She stomped over to the jukebox and jammed her fingers against the screen, instantly changing discs. Rotating on her heel, she turned her attention to Y/N. “I’m gonna make a sign. No one is allowed to play that song when either one of us is here.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. Oh, she liked Georgia. She was sweet and friendly but also feisty. “Oh, Miss Georgia,” Y/N chuckled. “I propose a new Christmas tradition! I’ll come back here every Christmas Eve as long as you’re working.”

Georgia stopped as she traipsed behind the counter. A smile played at her lips before she turned her full focus back to Y/N, green eyes alight. “Well now, sweet pea...I’d think I’d like that.”

For four consecutive years, Y/N kept her promise to Georgia. Every holiday season kept getting easier and easier, thanks to their little tradition. It was an added bonus that the food was spectacular...and she got to visit her dad and Apollo.

It was going on the fifth year when things got a little rocky, particularly with Steve. When he caught wind of Y/N’s request for her usual two weeks off, he instantly barged into her suite at the compound.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re not going back there this year” he pleaded.

Y/N was sprawled out on her bed with her Kindle in her hand, and she cocked an eyebrow at the way he approached her. “Excuse me? Stevie, you know I go every year. You’ve never had a problem before. What gives?”

He started pacing at the front of her bed, muscular hands running through his dirty blonde locks. “Y/N, you know we’re just so, so close to fixing this thing. With Scott and Tony actively working with that time contraption of theirs, I think we might finally be on the brink of a possible solution...a possible reversal.”

Y/N sighed heavily and put the tablet aside before rising to her feet to join the super soldier. “Steve...Tony and Scott have been working on that thing all year. That I know of, they aren’t any closer to reversing anything or bringing anyone back than we were last year. I don’t want to break a tradition on a possibility and not a certainty.”

The kid from Brooklyn worried his lower lip with his teeth. “I just...if we are able to reverse this or get them back...I want you to be the first person Buck sees if we can get him back by Christmas.”

Y/N had dreamed several times about being back in Bucky’s arms in the five years since the decimation. Her body ached for it, yearned for him. But other people felt the same way. Her father felt that way for her mother, Georgia for Henry. And the whole situation was still a big “if.” Tony and Scott had made some headway, but who knew if it was enough to bring Bucky back? Going to [Y/Hometown/N] was a certainty. Being there for her father and Georgia was absolution.

She reached up and caressed Steve’s face gingerly. “That’s a sweet thought, Stevie...and I do want to be the first person he sees. But you know how being there for my dad and Georgia have helped them heal...helped me heal. I have to go. You know how to reach me. If there’s any development, call me and I’ll race right down.”

Steve gave a nod of understanding, but Y/N could see the pain in his eyes. He really wanted her to be there when Bucky came back...if Bucky came back. “Just be safe okay, and promise you will race right down if I call?”

“What, you don’t think I would any other time?” she teased, poking him in the ribs. “Stevie, I will. I just have to do this, for me, Dad, and Miss Georgia.”

“Just be careful,Y/N. And Merry Christmas early.”

“Merry Christmas, Steve.”

No one could ever say that Y/N wasn’t true to her word. Christmas Eve, she strolled right in to the Late Night Dine Right diner, clad in a bright green knit sweater with a plush puppy protruding out of it that barked when its nose was poked. Georgia was behind the counter pouring coffee for a patron, but she gave Y/N a wide grin and waved. “Have a seat, sweet pea! I’ll have Marcus start your burger!”

“Thanks, Miss Georgia!” Y/N called, spreading out her art supplies in front of her much like she had that first night half a decade ago. She flipped the pages until she got to a sketch she was working on, the jukebox that was perched in the corner of the diner. Her eyes flicked up to get a good look at the jukebox, and she couldn’t help but guffaw at the giant “NO ‘I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS’” sign.

Georgia set down a glass of water in front of her and smirked. “Ain’t had anyone try to be slick yet!”

“You’d set them straight anyway, Miss Georgia. I know you.”

The red head just laughed as she strode back behind the counter.

Y/N focused back on her sketch. The outside of the jukebox was easy because it was so large. The intricacies of the buttons and all the other details? That was another task entirely. She lost herself in the crisscross pattern of the speaker portion, making sure each hash mark was perfectly aligned and looked meticulous. It wasn’t until she paused that she heard the beginning of that song that had been banned for that day and that day only.

“I’ll be home for Christmas. You can count on me.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, her blue eyes glaring daggers into the head of the long-haired straggler looming over the jukebox. “Hey, asshole!” she hissed, rising from her seat. “Can’t you fucking read? The sign specifically says-”

Before she could continue her tirade, the stranger rotated on his heel. His lips curled up into a cocky, arrogant smirk at the woman who was chastising him just seconds before. His piercing caramel eyes made her breath hitch and her heart stop.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out incredulously. She almost couldn’t believe who was standing in front of her. Yet there he stood, in all of his super soldier glory. “Bucky?”

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

#oh-snap-bucky #itsbuckysworld #ibwsmarvelsecretsanta #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #fanfic #MNT writing #MNT writes #my writing #Marvel #Marvel Comics #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Captain America #Winter Soldier

53 notes · View notes

tedlyanderson · 6 years ago

Text

Annotations for Adventure Time: Beginning of the End issue 3!

Did you enjoy my annotations for issue one and issue two of this miniseries? If so, good news! (If not, shove off!) I have annotations for the third issue, right here waiting for your lovely eyes! Obviously, as with the previous posts, this will have great big massive spoilers for the issue, so take that into consideration. Please enjoy, my pals!

Pages 2&3: Okay, there’s a lot to unpack on these pages, haha. First and foremost is a reference to something other than Adventure Time for once: Jake’s monologue on these pages is a loose reference to one of the very best issues of classic Fantastic Four, number 51, “This Man ... This Monster!” In that issue, among other events, Reed Richards travels through the Negative Zone and muses to himself about the nature of reality:

There are cameos on these pages from a bunch of the “cosmic” things of the AT universe, including the Catalyst Comet, the Lich, a copy of the Enchiridion, Glob Grob Gob Grod, the Finn Sword, and Prismo (in a rare 3-dimensional appearance). There’s also a herd of Time Lards with clocks on their bellies.

Also in this image, note the most minor and in-jokey reference in this entire series: the satellite on the middle-left with the word “FELIS” on it. In the episode “Fionna and Cake and Fionna,” someone asks Ice King where he gets the ideas for his Fionna and Cake stories, and he replies that they’re “beamed into [his] melon every night.” Later that episode, we see him sleeping as a pink laser zaps into his head, carrying images of Fionna and Cake. I chose to interpret this as a reference to one of my favorite authors, Philip K. Dick, who believed that he was receiving knowledge in the form of an information-rich pink laser beam from a satellite called VALIS. So this satellite, FELIS (get it? like cats?), is the source of the Fionna and Cake stories—in my version of the universe, anyway.

Page 4, panel 4: Chronologius Rex declares that he is the lord of Time, not meatloaf. Meatloaf has been established multiple times as Finn’s favorite food.

Page 5: And here we come to the crux of this issue: Finn’s possible futures. Issue 1 of this series was about Finn’s past, issue 2 was about his present, so naturally issue 3 is all about his futures. Obviously none of these should be taken as “canon;” I just came up with three possible paths Finn might take based on what we’ve seen him do throughout the series. I’ll explain my thinking after the third sequence.

All three of the futures are color-coded—the Candy Knight future is pink, obviously.

Page 6: I love Mari’s designs for Queen Bubblegum—the high ‘80s shoulders are great! My suggestion for Old Peppermint Butler was that he be smoother and shinier, as if he’s a candy that’s been sucked on for too long.

In panel 2, the “Dinner Kingdom” is kind of a half-reference to the Breakfast Kingdom in present Ooo.

And in panel 5, note old Finn’s Jake medallion.

Page 7, panel 4: I am not sorry for the “bunch” of banana soldiers joke.

Page 8, panel 1: Beards are indeed a factor in many of Finn’s futures: pretty much every time we’ve seen an older or artificially-aged Finn, he’s got a beard of some sort. I continue the trend in this issue.

Page 8, panel 5: This is a futuristic version of Founders’ Island, the main human settlement outside of Ooo, fixed up and fully repaired. The implication is that Finn not only returned to the human islands, he also helped fix the place up.

The color scheme for the Teacher Finn future is blue, connecting with the water and sky surrounding them.

Page 9, panel 2: I love Teacher Finn’s design so, so much, you guys. I described him as a lovable old professor, someone with his mother’s compassion and his father’s roguish charm, and Mari knocked it out of the park. Note his Jake hat.

Page 9, panel 3: “Homies help homies: always!” is the Adventure Time philosophy in a nutshell.

Page 9, panel 5: Note that Finn is still using his old, trusty sword Scarlett in this future. She’s even more nicked and battle-scarred, but I’m sure she’s still good in a fight.

Page 10, panel 2: Dodging eggs while fighting was part of Finn’s training from Rattleballs in his eponymous episode.

Page 10, panel 2: When it came to Finn’s human wife, I told Mari to make her look a little bit like a human version of Flame Princess. I figured Finn if has a type, it’s her!

Page 11: The third and final possible future is the Space Captain Finn future, which is green-themed for no particular reason. This future is based on the idea that Finn and his Candy Kingdom pals team up with the remaining humans to build a spaceship to take them away from Earth, which is about as likely as anything else in Adventure Time, haha.

Everything in this sequence is of course heavily inspired by Star Trek: the Next Generation, a show that I love and grew up watching. The Minerva A.I. is the ship’s computer, obviously, warning of “excessive sparks detected on bridge.” Jake is Finn’s right-hand-man, just like Riker was to Picard (and Finn even calls him “numero uno,” like Picard’s “number one”). Lady Rainicorn is the equivalent of counselor Troi, Fern is a bit like Data, and Jake’s skateboarding granddaughter Bronwyn is the hotshot kid pilot, like Wesley. Princess Bubblegum is the engineering chief—she always struck me as preferring the role of scientist rather than royalty, frankly—assisted by Frieda and BMO. Flame Princess, upgraded to Plasma Princess, powers the ship as a whole. And Finn himself sports a beard similar to Commander Riker’s—which is appropriate, as a future version of Finn was voiced by Riker’s actor, Jonathan Frakes!

When coming up with these futures, I thought about what the Finn we knew might be most drawn to doing, and boiled it down to three major options: fighting and defending (the Candy Knight future), teaching and training (the Teacher Finn future), or exploring and leading (Space Captain Finn). For what it’s worth, I don’t really have a preference, or any opinions on which future is most likely—one of the strengths of Adventure Time has always been finding ways to surprise its audience with something that makes total sense in retrospect. If Finn does have a “canonical” future, it’s probably something I would never have thought of, but which makes perfect sense.

Page 11, panel 4: Princess Bubblegum yet again mentions “zanoits,” which are maybe some kind of mysterious particle? It’s a funny word and deserves to be used more often.

Page 12, panel 1: I mentioned in my annotations for the previous issue that I felt bad making Susan revert to her simpler speech patterns, since by this point in the series she’s perfectly capable of using big words. I tried to make it up to her by making her the ship’s communications officer, who would use big words all the time.

Additionally, the “Tuffbone sector” is a reference to Meredith Gran’s Adventure Time miniseries, Marceline: Gone Adrift. In that series, Marceline explores space and meets other races, including the Tuffbones, dog-like alien critters.

Page 12, panel 2: Note that Shelby (the worm who lives in Jake’s viola) is wearing a bandolier similar to Worf’s. I was particularly proud of that idea, haha.

Page 12, panel 4: Jake’s exclamation of “Outrageous!” is a reference to another role by his voice actor, John DiMaggio: it’s the catchphrase of Aquaman, from the Batman: the Brave and the Bold series.

Page 16, panel 3: A “dead world” is another bit of unexplored Adventure Time lore: they’re apparently where people go when they die, but they’re not quite the afterlife as we think of it? Or it is, but there’s a lot of them, like at least fifty? Unclear.

Page 16, panel 4: I had to work in the title of the show somehow.

Page 17, panel 3: I wanted to make sure I referenced my favorite song from the show, “Everything Stays” by Rebecca Sugar, and this seemed like the perfect time to bring it up, as Jake discusses the inevitability of change.

Page 17, panel 4: When I described this panel in the script, I specifically mentioned the series Neon Genesis Evangelion, one of the weirder depictions of the end of the world you can find. I love the image of the enormous stone blocks sinking into an endless sea.

Page 18, panel 5: Chronologius’s epithet for Jake, “starchild,” references Jake’s actual origin as a half-alien creature. I checked the dates, and apparently I finished the script for this issue just a couple weeks after the episode “Jake the Starchild” aired, in which Jake’s parentage was fully revealed.

Pages 20-21: Finn’s final “confrontation” with Chronologius might feel a bit underwhelming—essentially, all he does is convince Chronologius to give them an opportunity to escape. There’s no big battle, no war of wits; it’s already been established that Chronologius is basically invulnerable, so it’s not like Finn could beat him in a fight. It’s not terribly exciting, but that’s kind of the point: over the course of this issue, Chronologius becomes more sympathetic to Finn and his plight, particularly after seeing all the good he did (and might have done) in the world. So it’s less about beating up some big bad dude, and more about convincing someone to act like a pal. In a way, Finn beats Chronologius by making him into a friend.

Would it have been better if the ending was more exciting, action-packed, crazy-style? Maybe! Looking back on it, I feel like I could have given Mari more chances to do cool art stuff—the first half of this issue has some pretty far-out sequences and nifty new things to draw, but the second half is basically three characters talking against a mostly boring background. Thematically I feel like it’s better to have Finn succeed by befriending the villain, rather than just punching his lights out, but it definitely doesn’t have the same visual impact. Overall, I’m still proud of it, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be improved.

That’s it for issue three! Join me next time for—issue four?!? Yes! This three-part miniseries is in fact a four-part miniseries, ending with Finn and Jake’s adventures through time! Look forward to it, my chums!

#adventure time beginning of the end #adventure time comics #comics annotations #adventure time annotations

15 notes · View notes

acsversace-news · 7 years ago

Link

Andrew Cunanan, who shot and killed Gianni Versace on the front steps of the designer’s palatial estate on the morning of July 15, 1997, was good at bragging. In the second episode of The Assassination of Gianni Versace, a new FX miniseries about the crime and the years that led up to it, Cunanan (Darren Criss) lands in Miami’s South Beach. It is the last stop on a three-month killing spree, in which he has already murdered four men in three different states. Boasting energetically to a new friend, he claims he was once engaged to Versace (he wasn’t), who took him to dinner at the fabled San Francisco restaurant Stars (he didn’t). He launches into a reverie on Versace’s gift for design, and when his friend replies with, “Sounds real nice,” Cunanan is not pleased. “I don’t see something nice. I see the man behind it. A great creator. The man I could have been.”

Cunanan’s curdled sense of self-importance runs through the next seven episodes of the series, which travel backward from Cunanan’s crime spree to his troubled childhood. His parents, a depressive Italian-American mother and a Filipino immigrant father, poured all their hopes into young Andrew. He slept in the cavernous master bedroom by himself and attended a swanky private school in La Jolla, California, even though his parents could barely afford the tuition. He wore a red leather jumpsuit to school on occasion and was voted “Most Likely to Be Remembered” in his senior yearbook, but his own page gave almost no information about him. Instead, he inserted just one quote, attributed to the French King Louis XV: “Après moi, le déluge.” After me, the flood.

Cunanan’s first victims were Jeff Trail (Finn Wittrock) and David Madson (Cody Fern), two young gay men he met through the San Diego and San Francisco nightlife scenes when he was in his twenties. Trail, a former naval officer, befriended him when his ship was docked in the San Diego harbor. Madson, a promising young architect from Minnesota, and Cunanan had met in San Francisco in 1995, when Cunanan spotted him at a restaurant bar and sent a cocktail over. That night, according to writer Maureen Orth’s account (the FX show is partially based on Vulgar Favors, her 1999 best-seller about Cunanan’s crimes), the pair had a “nonsexual sleepover” inside the Mandarin Oriental hotel, where Andrew was staying thanks to an allowance he collected from a wealthy, older La Jolla businessman named Norman Blachford.

Blachford, whose partner of 26 years had just died when he met Cunanan, allowed him to move in to his mansion and decorate it, giving him credit cards, a $33,000 Infiniti, and a $2,500 living allowance. Cunanan was apparently ashamed of being a “kept” man but also flaunted his nouveau riches, spending lavishly on friends and acquaintances. When he met Madson, Cunanan felt a genuine emotional connection and obsessed over the architect romantically for the next two years. By the time Trail took a blue-collar job in Minneapolis, where Madson also lived, Blachford had dropped Cunanan, who was now alone. Cunanan flew to Minnesota, killed Trail with a claw hammer inside Madson’s airy loft, and then shot and killed Madson four days later on the banks of East Rush Lake, an hour outside town—perhaps out of jealousy or despair.

The Assassination of Gianni Versace sticks with Cunanan throughout his spree. Versace (Edgar Ramírez) and his longtime partner, Antonio (Ricky Martin), only appear intermittently, like pops from a flashbulb rather than fully developed characters. This feels purposeful: Cunanan was preoccupied with fame, perhaps to the point of psychopathy, and he put celebrity on a pedestal. He saw himself as destined for greatness, and it is this tragic misconception of himself that makes his story so very American. Versace was an openly gay immigrant, succeeding at the highest levels of American business. This must have enraged Cunanan, the openly gay son of an immigrant, who saw in Versace the anointed prince that he longed to be.

Shortly before the first episode aired, members of the Versace family distanced themselves from the new show, which they thought “should only be considered as a work of fiction.” In Vulgar Favors, Orth asserts that Cunanan had met Versace in San Francisco around 1990, when the designer created the costumes for a San Francisco Opera production of Capriccio. Although it’s not clear whether the two met only in passing or were much better acquainted, we see this encounter in a scene in The Assassination of Gianni Versace. If they had dated, as Cunanan often boasted to friends, Cunanan’s violent act may have been personal: Some reporters at the time speculated—with a homophobic slant—that Cunanan may have been an “HIV killer,” out to get revenge on former boyfriends. (A medical examiner later testified that he was not in fact HIV positive.) Versace’s family holds that he never met Cunanan, that the designer was a victim of his own fame and of one man’s twisted rampage against a sparkling culture that rejected him.

The second installment in Ryan Murphy’s American Crime Story anthology series, the show doesn’t aim to establish which version is true so much as to expose the rot at the center of American culture—horrors that could only happen here. (Last season followed the trial of O.J. Simpson, dissecting the racial and gendered complexities of the case.) What we do know, from Orth’s book and from several other reports following the murders, was that Cunanan’s life was one of deception and delusion, of falsehoods and fibs and chicanery. He wanted to travel in the highest echelons of society, clinking glasses with socialites and captains of industry and cavorting on yachts. He didn’t like to work but loved to party, a less talented Mr. Ripley.

Cunanan wanted to travel in the highest echelons of society, clinking glasses with socialites and cavorting on yachts.

Throughout, Cunanan has to confront the mismatch between his aspirations and reality. From an early age, he bluffs about his background, telling classmates he is the son of wealthy aesthetes, that his father, Modesto (Jon Jon Briones), once served as Imelda Marcos’s personal pilot and that his mother has filled his lunch box with lobster tails. In the penultimate episode, we learn that Modesto has had to flee the country after embezzling fortunes from his clients. When Cunanan, now in his teens, goes to Manila to find him, Modesto is living in squalid conditions. Criss and Briones stare at each other for long minutes in this scene, filmed inside a tiny tropical shack. Cunanan realizes his father’s success was a lie, and that all of the confidence and self-regard he has absorbed from his bellowing belief must also be fraudulent.

Many people would experience this sort of trauma—the explosion of the family unit, the disgrace of a parent—and cave inward. Cunanan does the opposite. When he returns from Manila, his lies only get bigger. He claims that his father owns a pineapple plantation, that as son and heir, he is set to inherit millions. He tells friends that he has family in New York, Paris, and Rome, and that Signore Versace has asked him to travel around the world with him designing costumes. Even before the period when a quick Google search could swiftly puncture outrageous claims, all this bragging raises suspicion. In a conversation Madson imagines shortly before he is killed, he asks Cunanan to tell him one true thing about his life. It doesn’t happen. Cunanan was like a Gatsby so enchanted with the green light that he would kill for it, a man so bedeviled by the American dream that he became a walking nightmare.

Because the show tells Cunanan’s story backward, we often see his victims die before we get to spend time with them. We see Cunanan in the days leading up to the murder of Versace, then we see him bludgeon Lee Miglin (Mike Farrell), a prominent Chicago real estate developer, in Miglin’s garage. We see him shoot a cemetery caretaker in Pennsylvania just so that he can steal his red pickup truck. When these victims appear again on-screen, beaming and unaware of their bloody future, it can feel like agony. They die in front of you all over again, and you are mourning them even while they are simply talking and moving.

The best episode of the series is “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” which follows Jeff Trail through the trauma of being gay in the military. In one scene, he tries to hang himself in uniform; in another gruesome moment, he takes a box cutter and begins to slice a tattoo from his calf, after hearing that officials can identify homosexuals by their body markings. The anguish and shame that Trail feels is devastating, especially as we know what fate lies ahead. He is forced to leave the Navy, but as he leaves, he gives an interview to a news program about the struggles of being gay and wanting to serve your country. The fact that this act of bravery—and its promise of a new, more open life—so closely precedes his death haunts the episode.

No one is safe in Cunanan’s world, but then, perhaps, it was never safe to be gay in 1990s America, even for gold-plated celebrities like Versace. The media of the time blamed the victim for his own murder as much as it blamed Cunanan. While Cunanan was “a killer on the loose,” Edward J. Ingebretsen has written in At Stake: Monsters and the Rhetoric of Fear in Public Culture, Versace was seen as “a different threat entirely, that of a profligate and well-traveled member of the upper class, whose mobility, like the killer’s, is also the stuff of myth.” The media wrapped Versace’s and Cunanan’s stories together, frequently drawing parallels between the two: both gay, fashion-obsessed men, enchanted by wealth. Yet they couldn’t have been more different—one of them created, while the other destroyed.

In the end, The Assassination of Gianni Versace belongs to Cunanan, because it is a singular story: the story of a boy who wanted everything in the world but never figured out how to get it. This is an American crime story, in that we see in the rearview how the consumerist ’90s could warp those who treated celebrity like a religion, how some were even willing to commit vile acts for a taste of rarefied air. Very little is, at its core, more American than that.

#acs versace #new republic #article #review #acs spoilers #february 2018 #.thanks musexmoirai for the link

10 notes · View notes

withickmire · 7 years ago

Text

Torn Apart

Fandom: Deltora Quest Characters: Jasmine, Jarred (mentioned), Anna (mentioned). Summary: For the first time in her life, Jasmine is truly alone. Notes: This is a rewrite of a piece I wrote on FFN back in 2010 or so, for a collection of stories called ‘First Wood’. The story itself was called ‘Like Spilled Water’. AO3

A storm tore through the Forests after they were taken. Great trees trembled as their roots threatened to pull from the earth. Rain pounded the ground like beating fists, smothering the fire and carrying away scraps of clothing and pieces of the treehouse. Every fearsome creature took shelter as the wind rampaged through the woods. First Wood screamed its rage and grief, and Jasmine did too, until her throat was ragged and her voice was ripped away.

The fire might have taken her, had the rain not come. Perhaps it was the shock of the icy water that finally forced her to move. She did not remember digging the trench to lie in, nor did she remember dragging the wet and fire-blackened piece of wood over her little den, but her fingernails were torn and her skin was filthy with charcoal. Mamma and Papa always said that if she should lose her way, she must stay exactly where she was, and they would come and find her. But Jasmine knew where she was. They never said what she should do if they were the ones who were lost. Jasmine opened her mouth to scream again, but her throat was too sore to produce more than a whimper. She inhaled a mouthful of mud, and choked it back out.

She lay in her hole long after the storm calmed. Her eyes were swollen with smoke and tears, but still she kept them closed. She had lain on her belly in the ferns as Mamma and Papa were beaten and chained by the Grey Guards. A thorny branch had dug into her arm as she pressed her free hand across her mouth, but she had not dared move. The branch had torn through her flesh as if she were a wet leaf, and blood had crusted over the wound. Mamma would be horrified to see it pressed into the mud, but she was not there to fix it. She was not there to care. Mamma— the very word was a savage knife in Jasmine’s heart. Mamma’s eyes, green like spring leaves, had been clouded by pain and fear as she motioned with her chin for Jasmine to hide, her hands tied cruelly behind her back, blood trickling from her nose.

Papa— the knife twisted, oh— would tell her to get up. He would tell her to climb a tree and get to higher ground. He had looked so wild and afraid, like a wounded animal, as his eyes had searched desperately for her as the Grey Guards bound him. Jasmine had wanted to run to him, and throw her arms around him— I am here, I am here, I am here!— but she had stayed in her hiding spot, still as death, unwilling to betray Mamma.

The storm is over, the ground is no longer safe, Papa would say. Jasmine rolled over in her hole, and thrust her uninjured arm over her eyes. She did not know how long she had been there, but it might as well have been all her life. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth from a lack of water, and her empty belly heaved.

Open your eyes, my dearest, the voice in her ear was Mamma’s, but Jasmine knew it was only in her head.

It is a trick, Jasmine thought. If I open my eyes, you will still be gone.

Yes, the voice was sweet and so sad. Something squirmed in the mud under her hair. Yes, I will. But you will still be here. You must get up.

She opened her eyes— one, two— and was greeted by the sliver of pale sunlight that filtered through a crack in the wood as thin as a hair. She drew patterns on the board with her finger, not ready to listen to the whispers Mamma had left behind. The drawings would not mark the wood, not like the burnt sticks Mamma would give her to draw with on torn tree bark. They would disappear, like her family. They would be invisible, like her. Every heart beat was a blow to her chest, every breath she took dragged knives down her throat.

Finally, she kicked the board away. The fire had burned away many of the treetops, and it was brighter than Jasmine had ever seen. Sunlight burned her eyes and blazed hot upon her skin. Her heart broke as she looked around her. The flames had turned the massive tree that held their home into a skeleton the colour of ash. It still stood, but many of the smaller trees and bushes around it had been completely destroyed. The house itself had fallen, smashed and burned into pieces that scattered the ground around her. The world spun around her, and Jasmine felt like she might be flung away.

Water first, Papa’s voice murmured. Jasmine staggered through the sludgy mud to where she had left the water bags, not too far from her hiding spot. She had brought them with her when she had been drawn back from the stream by Mamma’s screams, but all of the water had sloshed out as she ran. One of them had been left with its mouth facing the sky, and held a shallow pool of rain water. Jasmine lifted it to her lips and drank greedily. When she had had her fill, she poured what was left into her cupped hand and cleaned the small wound on her arm. It stung horribly, but she gritted her teeth and washed it until she was sure the dirt was gone.

Breathing heavily, she climbed to her feet. The sky was still bright, but the sun was beginning to set. Had her parents been there, they would be getting food ready for the evening meal. A night and day had passed since she had been left behind. Food next, Mamma’s voice breathed.

Jasmine stumbled obediently to the remnants of her home. The tree in which their house had stood had been burned black, and stunk of fire and evil. It looked nothing like the safe place where Jasmine had laughed and slept and played. The leaves that had concealed the little house had been consumed by the flames, and what remained of the house was scattered around her feet. The rope ladder hung limply from a branch, torn and with some steps missing, but likely still good enough to support her small body. She walked through the remains like a ghost, half-numb to the destruction around her. She dug blindly through the boards until she found a sack of dried berries and crammed a handful in her mouth, forcing herself to chew slowly. She followed it with a second handful, and then a third. The food settled her stomach and cleared her head a little.

She eyed the rope ladder again. It swayed gently in the evening breeze. It would be night soon, and even Papa, who was very strong, did not like to be on the ground in the dark.

She rose, and made towards the ladder, when something on the ground caught her eye. A piece of paper fluttered on the ground, trapped by a broken branch. It had been sheltered underneath the wood from the rain, but pulled back out by the wind. Jasmine snatched it up and unfolded it. It was one of Papa’s rhymes, the one about the bear and the mouse. It was short and silly, but Jasmine loved it for the little drawings. With trembling hands, she folded it up and placed the precious paper into her pocket. Silent tears cut through the dirt on her face.

Good girl, Papa’s voice said. You are doing well. Now, climb.

Jasmine grasped the bag of berries and clutched it between her teeth. She made slow progress up the ladder, for her arm ached, and she was careful to test each frail step before she put her weight on it. As she neared the top, one broke under her foot. Jasmine’s stomach lurched as she clutched the rope for dear life and regained her footing. A fall from that height would not be one she could survive. Finally, she made it to the top. Although most of the house had fallen, some of the floor remained, including a piece nearly four times the width of her body. She spat out the bag and fell heavily upon the floor, her numbness bleeding into exhaustion. She reached into her pocket and clutched the paper in her fist, holding it like she might hold Papa’s hand.

The remnants of the house creaked and moaned in the wind, but she knew somehow that the tree would not let her fall. For all the damage it took, it was was massive, and still sturdy. Injured, perhaps, but not dead. Besides, she knew that tree. It had been her home all her life.

“I am sorry they hurt you, too,” she whispered, as loud as her voice would let her.

Rest now, little one, a deep voice whispered. Do not worry about me.

Jasmine sat up and looked around wildly. The voice had been realer than the soft remnants of her parents’ voices in her mind, but no one had spoken.

Do not be afraid, the low voice spoke again. I will keep you safe, as I always have.

Jasmine lay back down, and closed her eyes. Her panic faded as quickly as it had come. It did not seem so strange, really. She knew, in her heart, that it was the tree that had spoken to her. She knew that trees talked to each other, for she heard the whispers their leaves made in the wind, but she did not know that trees would ever take an interest in speaking to her. She knew that the tree would keep its word, for it had been her home all her life, and she could not see why it would betray her now of all times.

Still, she could not stay there forever, that much she knew. She would have to make a new home, and she could not bear to have it in sight of where the old one had lain. But it did not matter yet. She would sleep surrounded by the branches of the tree that had sheltered her for seven years. Tomorrow would be a new day. She would salvage what else she could from what had been left behind on the forest floor. If Papa and Mamma came home they would be so proud to find that she had made a new home and kept herself safe.

When they came home.

They had to come home.

#deltora quest #i have so many feelings about this little family #and the life that they lead #i want to write more about those seven years #jasmine #my writing

21 notes · View notes

brawltogethernow · 8 years ago

Text

Neutral Element - A Great Escape

Installment Masterlist

Characters: Anevka, Violetta; Length: 2k

“I see,” says Anevke, when his sister shoots him in the back. He’s surprised. Not because she’s decided her best course of action is to shoot him — because Tarveka knows that gun pulls to the right, and yet she didn’t aim to the left.

He’s still surprised when he wakes to blurry half-consciousness in the Great Hospital.

“You think she spared you?” says Violetta, perched at the foot of his hospice bed like a purple bird, making a nonchalant show of trimming her nails with a pocket knife. “Tcha! Your sister’s a snake. An incompetent snake. She probably just forgot, the prissy prima donna. Like she shouldn’t know how to assess a gun barrel by now, honestly….” She descends into irritated muttering, but remains apparently undistracted from her show of being dangerous while looking distracted. She’s waiting for his order. Well, she can just wait another minute, because trying to hold onto a single thought is like trying to keep track of a single fish in an ornamental pond. What to do, what to do. The Baron’s forces are occupying the town, and he’s lost his key to controlling the citizens anyway. His ancestral keep might have been exploded. And mere days after he inherited it, no less. If it weren’t for Vado the Unfortunate, that would probably be a record. He’s vulnerable right now, and the members of his family who support Seffie’s candidacy are no doubt eager to storm in. He’ll have to make himself seem useful to them if he wants that to slack off. Currently, Violetta is his only available resource. He’s surprised to see her. He thought she’d been restationed far away…

…In Mechanicsburg. He’s in Mechanicsburg. Why is he in Mechanicsburg?

Why am I in Mechanicsburg? he tries to say. What comes out is: “Your hair is very red. It’s your plumage.”

Violetta stares at him like he’s insane. He has no idea if that was intelligible. He faintly hopes not. “Ho, boy,” she says, and reaches into one of her pockets for a green vial.

The real kicker, Anevke reflects bitterly when his thoughts are more in order, is that his scheme was going so smoothly at the start of the whole debacle. Before it evolved the way it ultimately did, damn the Weißdamen for never forgetting their original loyalties. There was a simple, brutal beauty to their plan with the wasps: It would have been a neat marriage of the two oft competing purposes of the Knights of Jove. But then Anevke’s incorporation of Lucrezia’s technology had to be ruined by the return of the woman herself. Or worse, a dozen shadows of her. Where is her main brain? If he doesn’t know that, how is he supposed to kill it?

Violetta keeps tutting at him for trying to get all the information she has out of her as they try to escape the Great Hospital without drawing attention, but they simply don’t have the luxury of dawdling.

“And my sister?” he asks, as they crouch behind a fern waiting for a guard to change shifts. Security isn’t normally this tight, he understands, but the Baron is receiving care here. Violetta has just summed up the rather depressing state of Sturmhalten — It won’t do any good to go back there, for now, and Tarveka, if she persists, has surely thought along the same lines. “Where is she?”

“Well, technically I’m only supposed to keep an eye on you,” says Violetta. “But she might have snuck into that death trap up on the hill to aid the true Heterodyne or whatever. Is that part of your plan?”

Violetta glances at him at that point, and her expression implies that she received enough of an answer to her question from his expression.

“…And you didn’t feel inclined to stop her?” Anevke manages eventually.

Violetta shrugs. “Gotta say this for the princess —” Her tone makes it obvious “princess” is meant as an insult and not as a title. “— she’s a lot harder to poison now.”

Anevke frowns, both eyes but only half his attention on the hallway. Tarveka has mostly been his ally, and is a clever strategist and politician. By the sound of it, she’s trying to throw it all away for love. Such a path doesn’t suit someone so naturally pessimistic, but Anevke reckons Tarveka knows that.

Suddenly he realizes something, and groans.

“What?” says Violetta, peering up and down at him skeptically like she’s checking if he’s started bleeding from any new areas.

Since raising his arms doesn’t hurt at that particular moment — which feels like a privilege, though less so every minute — he massages the bridge of his nose. “Tarveka has run off with the Heterodyne Girl. She’s going to defend her with everything she has.” If the best plot to succeed required the girl’s death, could he take his sister’s latest little toy? When things are requested of Tarveka, she normally gives them up with a smile. But if she were to dig in her heels and really try…

“Uhhh huh,” says Violetta, skeptical. Anevke can’t blame her; Tarveka’s effectiveness had blindsided him only days ago, and it landed him here. Still, the other thing he’s realized, that is definitely something the Order’s worst Smoke Knight will appreciate.

“My sister has run off with the Heterodyne Girl,” he repeats again. He rolls his eyes. “My fated bride.”

Startled, Violetta snorts.

The guard finally changes, and they dash down the hallway, and do an up-and-down, to be safe.

“So are you going to work with the Order’s pawn in town?” Violetta asks as they double back through a ward full of unconscious cyclopes. A sign propped in a barrel in the middle of the room between the two rows of beds says: “Do Not Wake”, with a double-sided arrow. Violetta treads directly on their beds, silently. “She should be trying to take the Castle by now, if she hasn’t been held up.”

“No,” he says. “We’ve had reports on how that infernal machine works. If a true member of the Heterodyne family is inside, it’s far too late to uproot her. Going along with the fake at this stage would be a foolish game of roulette, though I have no doubt someone is still going to try to go through with the whole mess. But that is not going to be me. No, Tarveka’s in the right about one thing: At this point the best thing is to try to curry the real girl’s favor. And don’t mistake me, she is the real thing.” He startles at an errant tank of arms someone left soaking in brine in the middle of the walkway, and gingerly steps over it, careful not to brush against another arm shaped like a hairy ham that’s attached to one of the slumbering denizens of the hospital beds. “We could still use her if we got her on our side,” he says. “But I don’t imagine she’s feeling very charitable toward us as a body right now. Well, unless my dear sister’s seduction routine is working.”

“Uh,” says Violetta, “you’re not saying you want to go into the Castle, do you? Because you are pretty easy to poison, and I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“God, no,” says Anevke. “There cannot be enough going on in there to make that worth it.”

They vacate the cyclops ward, pounding down another hallway on silent feet.

“I highly doubt the girl would be pleased to see me,” continues Anevke, swiveling his head around looking for Hospital staff and patients. “At this point, the best thing is to respect that, and avoid the chit. Let Tarveka soften her up, she’s good at that.” Although he would regret not having access to Tarveka’s modified voice. Honestly, leaving the Heterodyne Girl alive and Tarveka with her? It was redundant. But the Sturmvoraus siblings often ran up against points of contention like this. Tarveka and Anevke were both prone to bouts of irrationality, but often strongly disagreed on what was worth being irrational about.

Violetta effortlessly detaches the cover to a vent on the wall that should lead outside and swings into it, reaching down to help him up. “And when someone from our family tries to kill you?” she says, yanking him up with both hands. “I mean…” she says, looking at his bandaged, bed sheet-clad state and reconsidering. “When someone else from our family tries to kill you, again.”

“I’m certain I can convince some of them to stay backing me,” mutters Anevke, starting to inch down the vent. Violetta impatiently inches after him. “It’s not like the other candidates are particularly exemplary. ...And I’m far and away the most mature option, if nothing else.”

“Tweedle is older than you.”

“By a month. And our dear Cousin Tweedle is a twit.”

“I definitely never said she was not a twit. I wouldn’t say that knocked silly on hallucinogens.”

“Fair enough,” he grants. “Anyway, who cares how old Tweedle is? You’re just being pedantic.”

Violetta snorts again. “She’s not ‘a candidate’,” — she pauses crawling to make finger quotes — “but people who don’t know that Seffie is the smart one think she can watch him or something. So you’re going to have to stop discounting the kiddo and assuming people won’t want him over you.”

“Doesn’t the current plan involve constructing a ‘grand romance’?” Anevke demands, voice bleeding distaste. “Xerxsephnius is, like, fifteen. Doesn’t the Order expect people to have any standards?”

“He’s not —” Violetta sniffs. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because no, they don’t,” she says.

“…Fair enough,” Anevke says again, sighing. They leave through the other side of the vent, leaping from it onto the eaves of a neighboring roof. Anevke pauses before unfolding from his landing crouch to assess his physical state, but he actually feels fine. Press onward, then.

“Soooo,” says Violetta. “We’re out. Where to now, Highness?”

“Not Castle Heterodyne, that’s for sure,” says Anevke, brushing himself off and extricating an overly personable mimmoth from where it hitched a ride in the folds of his hospital gown. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

He was practically inviting eventually ending up there, really.

#politics!#girl genius #ggne #fic #w

17 notes · View notes

fillysaltzwrites-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Hidden Hollow

Oberon had seen this face so many times, it was memorized. Were it laughing, crying, or loving. He knew it better than his own. And still, he could not perfect it.

His fingers traced the lines and edges, the ridges of paint he’d given to canvas and his heart shuddered. Should he repaint it again? Try different lighting or some other medium? Perhaps he’d go down to where the lilies kissed the Great Water’s hollow and the toads croaked to their mistresses. Or he’d hike Mount Pillion and stand on the ridge that gave birth to its smaller brethren, so he could take on the sun in its full might.

His brush strokes would dry more quickly that close to the sun. The air would give vibrant life just as swiftly as it firmed his creations. Perhaps then, she might feel more alive in his art, than she felt in his mind.

Oberon inhaled and smelled only paint and the dewy afternoon pollens from the glossy Harlock that grew on his balcony. With a face like hers, she should have smelled like sunset. Or early morning when the light was dim and the flowers just opening to dawn’s first kiss.

“Whiling away the hours again, painting the same thing over and over? You’ve become predictable Oberon. And pathetic.”

Frowning, he pulled back from the canvas he’d taken out to study then replaced the thin fabric he’d kept it draped in. “What I do in my free time shouldn’t be of any concern of yours father. It hardly has any impact on the affairs of His Majesty, does it?”

His father stood just within Oberon’s private solar, eyes as green as the ferns that spilled out of various pots and adorned the pillars that held tight to the ceiling. Crocus and lily scented, happily sprawled between the green and made the air heavy with fragrance. But it was as Oberon and many of the other Fairy liked their living chambers. Much of the outside, was in.

“You’ve been secluding yourself again. That is a part of my affairs.”

“What can I help you with Father? I have plans.”

King Hyphus, the epitome of Fairy physique, stood silent like the sentients. His hair was long and pulled back into a queue and as white as his skin which glowed with the ethereal grace of the Lilith Heart. The heart that gave the Fairy people their lives and the rich abundance they were all accustomed. But his countenance was dark and his eyes harsh.

“You push me Oberon.”

Oberon studied his father, “I merely ask what you want of me.”

“You know that you are to take over as King one day. That your duties will be far from paintings and child’s play. You can’t expect to rule the Fairies when you spend your days lost in your head daydreaming like an adolescent. You reached your majority fifty years ago. It’s time you acted like it.”

Oberon fought the urge to defend himself, though he knew it would do no good. His father was hard on him because he felt it the best path. After all, he was grooming a King. Such responsibilities required strength of character and a firmness that Oberon had never been fond of. He was a dreamer. Always lost in his thoughts or wishing he was outside the palace walls when he was within.

He would give much simply to leave with what he had on his back and live somewhere in the fields by himself. He’d work the land beside the cattle and the Aephid. They’d share the spoils of their hard work and in the evenings, he could paint before a fire or out beneath the stars to candlelight.

“Boy,” his father snapped, and Oberon startled back to his chamber.

“Forgive me, father.”

King Hyphus shook his head sadly, “Your mother would be as disappointed in you as I am. The council will hardly want to stand behind a weakling when I finally leave the throne. What am I to do with you?”

Oberon sighed, “I don’t know.”

“Come. You can attend me this evening.”

Oberon knew better than to argue. He’d grown accustomed to these interval meetings and the tongue lashings they produced. If his father was not griping at him, then he was not happy. In fact, Oberon doubted that King Hyphus had ever been happy.

They strode the length of the bridge which connected the Prince’s solar to that of the King’s and Oberon fell into step beside his father silently. Blossoms fluttered in through the stone arches and littered the ground. They crushed underfoot and scented the air with the summer rain. Oberon thought mildly of how he might capture the feeling in chalks.

Pastels would do best. And he’d like to sit near Tor Falls where the roar of the water would ground him as the winds inspired.

Entering Hyphus’ chamber, Oberon was struck as he always was at the stark differences between father and son. Of course, they shared similar tastes, as all Fairy’s would with making use of greenery and flowering plants. Such things were to be expected as the Fairy’s lived and thrived off of the green. But that was where the similarities ended. Where Oberon liked to keep his décor to a minimum and instead make use of lighting and natural pieces, his father chose rich colors, broad statues and gaudy metals. He liked the wealth that being royal afforded them and he displayed it without qualm.

Oberon didn’t like the clutter or the shine of it.

“Take a seat Oberon. Tell me what you see.”

Oberon followed his father’s command to take a seat at the dark stained table beside the balcony and frowned down at a map spread wide. The map was of the Fairy kingdom and that of the outlying areas. Like the Aephid to the south, a quiet farming folk that had lived harmonious with the Fairy for centuries. And to the east, another peaceful neighbor, the Grom. They traded frequently with the mining people for precious metals and jewels.

His father had set playing pieces about the map and had positioned several to their western border where the human realm began. “What does it mean?”

King Hyphus smiled grimly, “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten your studies with all that painting of yours. Here,” he pointed an elegant hand to the row of figures, “We are funneling support to keep the barrier intact. It seems its failing.”

“Failing?”

“Yes. If you’d bothered to come to the last council meeting you might have heard the troubling updates. There have been breeches at the western gates.”

Oberon gripped the table, leaning closer to better study the map, “How many humans have gotten in?”

“None so far. But any might before we can close the gap.”

“Why is it failing now? We’ve had the gates closed for well over a century. Nothing has breached it before.”

“No one is certain. Not even the high priests. They’ve seen nothing like it. But it is failing. If you were to go and stand at the border, you might easily walk right into the human realm without so much as a whisper. Its paper thin and scarcely concealing our kingdom.”

Oberon straightened, giving the table his back. His father was right. He should have come to the last meeting and he should have been there to hear what was going on. He’d been negligent in his duties to their people. Again.

“How long till we see it being closed?”

“We don’t know. The magic that seals it is old. So old, the council and priests are having a hard time finding a solution. For the time being, there have been guards posted around the clock to protect the barrier from intrusions.”

They stood silent for several minutes, both lost in thought, both mirror images save the gentle aging of his father.

“I want to see it.”

King Hyphus blinked, eyes glowing in the dimming light. Evening was approaching and soon the double moon would shine through the open ceiling to light the room. “That would not be wise Oberon. Nor should you do something which is so beneath you.”

“It would be of benefit to see firsthand what it is going on, would it not?”

“No. It isn’t safe.”

“But father, I could go quietly with--,”

“You will not disobey me,” the King hissed, stepping near enough that Oberon was eye to eye with his father. “You will not go near the broken barrier or so help me, I will destroy whatever painting of yours I can get my hands on.”

Oberon stiffened, “You wouldn’t know where to find them.”

“I have my ways, dear son. I’m not completely obtuse about where it is you ramble off to and disappear. You think I would let my son out of my sight without escort? Without someone watching?”

This, Oberon had seen for himself on more than one occasion. Each time he’d become aware of being watched or seen a palace guard keeping tabs on him, he’d simply done his best to ignore them. Now, it made his blood feel chilled and his stomach knot in anger.

“I see.”

“You don’t. And that is precisely the problem,” King Hyphus sighed, reaching for Oberon to draw him nearer. When their foreheads were touching the King closed his eyes and wearily hummed, “Son, you are too headstrong to see when I do things out of love. You are too much like your mother in that way.”

“I didn’t know my mother.”

Hyphus smiled thinly, “She was like you. A wanderer. Easily drifting into the woods for hours at a time. Hardly noticing when time went by or when the day drew to a close. She’d lose herself in her work until she became--,” he stopped himself, voice going tight. “That hardly matters now. You understand me.”

Drawing back out of the embrace so rarely shared, Hyphus shook his head and seemed to distance himself again. “You will not go to the barrier.”

Oberon watched his father, felt the tightness in his throat slowly ease, then nodded. So little he knew of his mother. So very little and just then, he’d seen how dearly his father had loved her. It made him almost ask for more, though it would cost him.

“Good, good. Come, I’m tired. Share a drink with me then find your own bed.”

“Of course, Father,” Oberon obliged, pouring them both a drink of ambrosia with mint. Taking the seat opposite, he settled into the linen cushions and forced thoughts of the barrier aside. For now, his father seemed pleased with him and even appeared to want his company. Oberon would take it.

Morning broke through the palace with bright abandon. Birds sang, warbling high and thin, their songs tempting the staff to sing and even bringing a smile to Hyphus’ mouth. He readied early, preparing for a day to be spent out on the moors. Part of him hoped that Oberon would join him, but the other stronger part, knew that it simply wasn’t the boy’s strong suit. His son didn’t enjoy the duties of the crown nor was he ever likely to. It mattered little. Oberon would one day be ruler and that was a reality.

Climbing the stairs to the dining hall, Hyphus situated himself at the head of the table and hardily partook of his morning meal. He scarcely looked up at the milling staff or noticed the begging cats that wrapped around his legs. He was too busy going over his schedule, the duties he would need to attend to, the moors business and how long such matters might take.

When he paused to look down the table for Oberon, it was then it came to his attention that his son was still not present.

“Where’s the boy?” he snapped at the nearest attendant and startled a youngling passing by with a platter of meats.

“He’s already eaten Majesty.”

“He has?”

“Before dawn. He was up and out even before many of the staff Majesty.”

Hyphus scowled into his hot cider cup, “Thank you.”

It was just like his son to run from responsibility. Just like him. He’d have to teach the boy a lesson when he managed to amble back. Hyphus only hoped it wasn’t after dark by the time he did.

Molly stood, legs braced on the boulder the size of her condo. She inhaled a lungful of pine scented air and sighed with complete bliss.

“Heaven,” she whispered happily, eyeing the rim of blue that delineated the sprawling lake in front of her. Mountains jutted up to reach for the heavens and wore the greenest of trees for covering. The sky was crystal blue with not a cloud in it. It was the perfect day to hike Martyr mountain. And she was going to do it in six hours.

Tapping her wrist watch, Molly rechecked her pack and supplies, found everything as expected then triple knotted her shoe laces. Hiking the peak wasn’t something she did every weekend, but it was one of the rare occurrences she gifted herself with a couple of times a year. Like a pat on the back that gave her a good dose of adrenaline and dopamine.

Molly was an avid outdoorswoman. She hiked, fished, even hunted when she felt like it. But she also spent a great deal of her time trapped within the confines of a classroom. And by choice.

Smiling, she thought of the class she’d just graduated and would miss. She was a high school history teacher and a damn good one at that. Teaching the twelfth grade was more than a challenge, it was a massive undertaking. The students didn’t want to be there any more than she often did, but they all slogged it out together and when summer hit, she was always one of the favorites. She liked to bring history to life in a way that was hands on and very much permanent. It was pitiful to expect teenagers to want to learn in a traditional setting about something that happened hundreds if not thousands of years previous.

So, she did things her way and often ended up making a great deal of her curriculum from scratch. The important part was that her students always passed their end of year exams and graduated into adulthood with a better appreciation for history than when they’d entered her classroom.

Molly was proud of that.

Just like she was proud of herself for making such a hefty goal. No matter that she’d probably want to kill herself when she reached the top.

Feeling the burn in her thighs already, Molly sucked down a few mouthfuls of water from her camel pack then began focusing on the scenery.

There was still dew on the trees from the morning and even though the sun was straining overhead, it felt balmy this high in the woods. There wasn’t a soul in sight. It was just how she liked it. This type of serene solitude just couldn’t be found anywhere else or in quite the same way.

She hiked for another thirty minutes without stopping and when she heard the trickling stream from her first checkpoint, Molly was tempted to do a little victory dance. Out of breath and already slicked with sweat, she strode over to the glacier water stream that ran as clear as crystal and splashed some onto her face and neck. There was a large log perfect for sitting and soft with moss beside it.

“Thank you very much,” she patted the spongy moss with both hands checking for critters, then sat heavily.

It would be glorious to simply fall asleep beneath the canopy of trees with that gentle swishing sound of the wind. She closed her eyes, imagining it perfectly, letting the sweat cool her feverish skin.

Half-dozing, it was the sound of humming that startled her.

Jerking to her feet, Molly spun around and saw no one coming up the trail and no one coming back down. Sure, there were bugs buzzing and if she concentrated she might hear a stray bird or two. But she was the only person up here. That was part of this place’s allure.

Frowning, Molly rubbed both hands over her arms to ward off the goosebumps then turned back in the direction of the trail. She had another four miles to go till summit.

She’d already wasted enough time resting.

But she could still hear the humming.

It was soft. So soft, she might think she was imagining it. But it was there. Just above the shush of the trees swaying and Molly found herself stepping off the trail towards the stream. If she kept to the stream and didn’t stray, she wouldn’t get lost.

At least, that’s what Molly told herself to explain her habitual lack of restraint.

Still, Molly was an explorer at heart. She liked to see the unknown. And that humming was oddly beautiful. Walking over broken twigs and a carpet of pine needles, Molly followed the stream deeper and deeper into the woods until she wondered if she shouldn’t turn back. If she went too far, she’d never have time to summit and get back before sundown.

But then, she saw what she’d been looking for. And it was not what she’d expected in the least.

A man sitting on a stump, painting with long sweeping strokes on a sedate canvas. He was humming something as delicately as he was working, and Molly stood motionless, her feet rooted to the ground. She couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to.

Though he had his back to her, she could see he wasn’t dressed typically. Wearing a pale blue sleeveless shirt and black pants that were pushed up to the knees, she could see he was also barefoot and looked as pale as snow. Though the breeze coming off the nearby lake could be called chilly, he didn’t look the least bit bothered. Or uncomfortable.

She noted with fascination that his hair was as pale as his skin. In fact, more so. It was the white of unblemished lily and only cut to his collar. It looked like feathers as the wind blew it off his neck with little effort.

Strikingly handsome. It was her first thought when she watched his arms flex and the muscles move beneath his nearly translucent skin. Otherworldly.

Without thinking through what her next move should be, Molly found herself trying to get closer for a better look. She was too far to see enough detail and she felt she deserved it after walking all this way.

But she should have known that this close, she’d be heard. That is if her brain had been functioning beyond how ethereal that man looked.

Snapping branches clumsily, the man swiveled in her direction and stared. Molly locked eyes with the stranger and felt every drop of blood drain to her toes.

His eyes were the color of the pine and so bright they glowed. And his ears were…pointed.

Molly blinked, tried to make sense in her mind of the picture he made but couldn’t quite get it to compute. White skin, white hair, glowing green eyes and long pointy ears.

She thought vampire. And then she started running hysterically.

Tumbling into branches, taking off at a breakneck pace, Molly was only vaguely aware of the sound of her pursuer. Or how stupid her thought of vampire had been, because that sort of thing was fictional. But the sudden terror she was feeling was clogging up her throat to choke the life out of her.

He was following her.

God, she didn’t want to be killed in these woods and have her body parts strewn across the valley. She’d become some sad story in a forensic tv series.

She ran harder than she’d ever run before.

Breath sobbing, heart slamming into her ribs with each pump of her legs, Molly didn’t know why she was so frightened except that her mind couldn’t make sense of what she’d seen.

Perhaps she’d been mistaken? Then she was running like a fool through the woods and getting herself hopelessly lost.

Or, she’d seen a freakish looking man, and he was chasing her to slaughter her among the ferns.

She couldn’t be certain, nor did she feel capable of relying on her more logical side, so she kept running.

When she ran headlong into a ticket of spiderwebs and then crashed into a tree, Molly burst into frantic tears. Both because now her head screamed and also because her emotions were getting the better of her. Swiping madly at her cheeks, the webbing now trapped in her hair was making it even harder, she scrambled on her knees and moved blindly forward.

There was a strange sucking sensation, like being tugged on by the roots of her hair, but on every hair on her body. Molly staggered, shook her sluggish head, likely due to hitting it on the tree and kept going. Shock could do strange things to a person, hadn’t she read that in a magazine somewhere?

She didn’t dare look behind her to see if she was still being followed. The more distance she put between her and the pointy eared man, the better.

When Molly’s muscles were shaking too badly to keep moving, she propped herself against the nearest tree and began sucking down water. It took her a handful of minutes to realize the tree she was leaning on wasn’t a pine tree. And another few to make sense of the dripping moss or the sultry air that held the smells of some exotic rain forest.

She’d knocked herself unconscious when she’d hit that tree.

That would explain the strange feeling she’d had when crawling blindly through the webs. She’d not done that at all. Rather she was still lying there. At that strange man’s mercy.

Feeling absurdly exhausted and still frightened, though she knew none of this was real, Molly curled into herself and did her best to stay alert. She fell asleep within minutes.

#originalwork forfunzies ilovefairies readingislife fairies fantasyfiction

0 notes