#I was about to start the novel but then Stampede happened and here we are

[ohitslen]

My favorite pieces of media are Trigun, Monster, Princess Tutu, Strangers From Hell, Link Click, Beyond Evil, the webtoon Guardians of the Videogame and Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint

It’s a very elaborated way of saying I choose to make myself depressed and being gay is also a choice

[batmonkfish80]

Liner Notes for A Grand Parade

Missing from the stories so far are the animals they put in the arena. Well here they are. I’ve chosen to put a lot of extinct creatures into the mix, dire wolves, mammoths, aurochs etc. The ape-men, some sort of hominid, perhaps homo erectus, imply a lot about the situation. Given a hundred years, if they’re sufficiently trainable, they might replace a lot of the more menial servile labour, a permanent class of slave.

The city of Mora is not a good place; the economic dislocation will probably cause riots, civil war and pogroms. On the other hand if they keep sending armies through the gates they’ll probably encounter something worse soon. But that’s a liner note for another story…

Anyway, stampede! I could have written a beast hunt in the arena but frankly I’m not a fan. Gladiators mostly don’t get killed; this is like bullfighting, not without risk of death or injury but the odds are not in favour of the bull. I can give higher stakes, more dangerous situation and have the villains be the ones without a care for cruelty to animals. Win-win-win. Shades of grey is an erotic novel etc.

Anyway the larger plot is starting to kick in. The fallout from turning the fixed fight back on the fixers (in A Fixed Fight) continues. Organised crime is creating a lot of trouble and chaos. Vinculus has an objective, one beyond the cavern of the howling void, a place no living man can go. But a construct? Yes, a construct (as discussed in The Soul Of A Construct). It’s like I plan this stuff (I don’t plan it that well, as I write this in January, I’ve finished story 7; the concluding part is about six lines of notes. Still, we might get there! See what happens in December.)

And we find out something about Olianos. Is he content? Apparently so. What then for a man who finds satisfaction in plotting the perfect fight, and desires nothing more. And what for his partner, what does she want.

You know for a story that is mostly waiting around and being charged by a stampede of extinct megafauna, I’ve put a lot of questions about motivation and leadership. Something to think about there.

[heir-of-the-chair]

Been turning this reply over in my head (mostly I’m elated I got a response at all cause the hyperfixation has increased). That post was made a day after I saw the show, and I’ve listened to the cast album a couple times and Jacob has definitely grown on me as a character since. (Apologies if this gets very long I’m a theater major with adhd who loves character analysis)

Rest is under the cut bc Heir from the future here to tell you that it Did in fact get very long djdhddj

As for him being suicidal at the beginning, I see how that interpretation makes sense (jumping onto a random moving train, some pretty implicative lines in “Wild”). I didn’t pick it up when watching it. I don’t know if it’s more clear in the book or the movie, but the beginning didn’t read as much to me as intentional self destruction as it did an attempt and escape and reinvention based on when in his journey we opened but both make sense.

As for character arc, I definitely agree that it would have felt weird for his arc to be him getting over his grief and I like that they didn’t do that. What I thought they might do is have him start out trying to ignore/bottle up his grief which I think is what they were trying to do but I feel it could have been executed more clearly. He’s running away from his old life and it seems like that would be to run away from his grief, but he seems very in touch and accepting of his own emotional state from the beginning of the show. He’s not trying to emotionally distract himself through leaving, he’s just leaving because he doesn’t know what else to do.

A more clear arc I think would be for him to be perhaps more desperate to throw himself into the circus once he joins to try to forget about what happened and the old life that was taken from him. Maybe this is part of why August takes such a liking to him, a desperate man who doesn’t want to take the time to reflect out of an avoidance of his own emotions. It could make an interesting to Wade who was also taken on by August after losing everything, only this time Jacob is able to resist August’s control through opening up to the rest of the circus and coming to process his grief similarly to in “I Choose The Ride.”

“Go Home”/the dream sequence in general is probably one of my favorite moments of theater I’ve ever seen in a show (along with the stampede but that’s not related it was just really cool) but to me it feels a little disconnected from the rest of the show. It’s an amazing payoff with not enough setup. Again I think what they were trying to do was show how Jacob’s discovery of Camel and Walter’s deaths is what caused him to fully confront his grief for his parents deaths as well and that could have been an amazing moment, except that he was already shown to have been swimming in his grief the whole time. “Go Home” is amazing, but it could have been even better if a dam-breaking moment if we’d seen him trying to bottle up his emotions earlier. He finally has to face his sadness about his parents and his anger at the bank as he says “leaving him for dead”, in this moment of immense sadness for his new friends and his anger at August.

It feels kind of weird to say that it doesn’t really feel like he’s running away from his grief when the whole premise of the show is running away, but it feels a little show don’t tell to me. Relying too much on the metaphor without showing the actual emotion. “Look at him run from his emotions! He’s on a train now!” Meanwhile he’s very upfront about his emotions both about his parents and in general. He’s clearly had a very understandable mental breakdown to have gotten here in the first place but the dialogue doesn’t match the implication.

I think a character arc is supposed to be there, but based on the sort of inconsistent emphasis on the theme of accepting grief that book (as in the script not the og novel) gives it, “Anywhere,” “I Choose The Ride,” and “Go Home” which are the songs that emphasize Jacob’s arc of accepting his grief the most feel sort of out of place compared to the other themes that feel more balanced between the book and the lyrics.

I don’t think I really have a specific conclusion other than I love this show so freaking much, and critique is part of the fun of seeing theater for me, so yeah if you read this whole thing I’m honestly impressed and I am more than happy to go off more about this amazing show if prompted because Elephant Circus Show has eaten my brain.

Lowkey hyperfixating now and I’ve come to the devastating conclusion that Jacob the main character of Water For Elephants… doesn’t really have a character arc

[sterling-silvers]

Star Wars: The High Republic #1 Review

In terms of the comic, the first issue is the definition of a C story – it is a 7 out of 10 because it is average. The simplicity and lack of depth is both the saving grace and condemning damnation of it.

The story follows a new, human Padawan called Keeve Trennis, who is revealed to be on the planet Shuraden, partaking in her final Jedi trial; result of which will be the deciding factor of whether she become a full fledge Jedi Knight. Chaperoning and assessing the trial is her Jedi Master, Sskeer – a Trandoshan – who is sporting one arm (more on that later on).

During said “final” trial, a swarm of giant alien insects – called Ridadi – pop out of nowhere and start stampeding toward a community of fairy like aliens, called Ximpi. Keeve makes an “audacious” choice to abandon her trial in order to save the village. One thing to note, is that she made a utilitarian decision during the course of her rescue, as did not attempt to save one Ximpi who was swallowed whole – she allowed the death of one to save the lives of many.

After relaying the situation those at Starlight Beacon’s, in particular Master Estala Maru, she is told to read the minds of the insects; in doing so, she gathers that these creatures normally using a magnetic homing beacon to guide their migration course – Starlight Beacon has thrown it off course and if Keeve were to fail to stop them here, they would eventually fly to the Beacon, itself.

Using a new lightsaber powered, Force attuned ship – a Vector – Keeve is able to steer the bugs back on course and off of the planet. 

As she reconvenes and recounts with her master, he takes her the Starlight Beacon. Thinking she is about to be expelled from the Order for failing the trial, a new Jedi Master, Avar Kriss – who, via Grandmasters Veter and Yoda, most recently was christened as the new Marshall of Starlight Beacon, officially promotes Keeve to the rank of Knight. As her valediction ceremony takes place on the Beacon, itself, we see Keeve shedding an emotional tear of joy. 

This is interesting as, I thought it was the padawan’s master that would knight them but, this seems not to be the case. Even more curiously, the Jedi do not exclaim “May the Force be with you” but, “For Light and Life”. At the conclusion of the comic, we see Sskeer alone in his chambers screaming “No!” at the top of his lungs.

As forementioned, this debut issue is the epitome of a C story and as so earns it’s 7 out of 10. This is my first introduction into Cavan Scott’s writing and, so far, it is subpar at best and candidly amateurish at it’s worse. The narrative was very telegraphed at times and makes mistakes that are unbecoming of a writer given this caliber of material to work with. Writers like Greg Wiseman, Kyle Higgins, and or David F. Walker would not be making these kinds of errors – Marvel might need to call them to take over.

In the same vein, Ario Anindito’s art is decent but, could be better. It’s not as crisp as I think it should be and looks like it needed another render. Artists like Dan Mora, Stefano Caselli, and especially Doc Shaner would have delivered an efficient job as opposed to the sufficient one Anindito is giving.

It’s vexing as honestly, there is something there in terms of Keeve Trennis in terms of both her character and design.

I am more than fine with a protagonist that doubts themselves because that is a manner in which we are able to learn with them, and there is definitely an avenue to explore with a newly dubbed Jedi Knight still working on finding her niche in the Order. Reviewers, like Thor Skywalker, are not so keen on her having these kind of thoughts and emotions but, it makes sense to me. One of the eventual downfalls of the Jedi was that they were trying to negate their emotions as opposed to controlling them. Keeve showing self-doubt illustrates her struggle to regulate her emotions but also that allows herself to feel the doubt work through it.  Nonetheless, it seems as if we, the reader, have missed an arc and or development with this character – I think it would have been more apt to show her in the Order working her way to the trials as opposed to the last hour of her last trial AND her becoming a Jedi Knight; this is reinforced by the alleged rapport and pedestal she puts Sskeer on – it’s more tell than show and a comic book is meant to show.

In accordance with this self-doubt, she also has the quirk of cursing. This is interesting, albeit jarring because of the era she is in – the High Republic has been presented as the apex of the Order and as so, I thought that meant this would be the time where the Jedi would be the most dogmatic and adherent to their traditions and mentality.

Her design yields the same jarring aspects, once you go beyond the superficial facet. At first glance, it’s very attention-grabbing; young Black woman with half her head shaved on one side, utilizing two lightsabers – holstered on her chest – that she can combine into a dual-sided lightsaber. However, once again, this seems to be out of place given the time period and temperament of the era. Does it make sense for a Jedi in this era to be so bombastic in their look, particularly when it comes to her hair? Seems like a better fit for a time of REVIVING the Jedi Order as opposed to them being at their APEX.

In the Light of the Jedi novel, it is said that Keeve sees the Force as a tapestry – a massive piece of art that spreads across the universe. This is a really nice take on the Force and I hope it gets expanded on with her character in this series – it certainly could attest to aspects of her design, such as her hair. I haven’t really seen Star Wars characters interested in art aside from Sabine Wren, Grand Admiral Thrawn, and Alva Brenne; now we have a character who the Force IS art for her. Granted, this aspect of hers has not been seen and or mentioned in the comic and it SHOULD be as this is the formal DEBUT of this character for many people.

The issue gets some major points off, as well because:

1.  Keeve’s uses her lightsaber to not only slow down descent but to stop the fall completely.

This is cardinal sin that follies in the mechanics and use of how lightsabers work. This happens nine pages in and broke my immersion within the issue - immediate red flag.

At best, an argument could be made that because this is set 200 years before the Skywalker Saga these sabers are weaker than their future counter parts and therefore not as potent in terms of lethality but, this is me – the fan – writing for the writer. Star Wars (or its content creators) simply do not get that luxury anymore. Plot holes are to be called out by the consumer and filled in/addressed by the writer; plain and simple.

2.  There is a general lack of references and or footnotes to other material – particularly to the current books and comics – that would have given context to some of the events and tools used in the comic. Prime examples of missed opportunities to seed this world cohesively take form in Sskeer’s missing arm, the Ximpi themselves, and the Vectors.

The High Republic, as a whole, was marketed ongoing multimedia project and as so, interconnectivity should be the prime focal point of this serious. Continuity is key ESPECIALLY when they’ve thrown out the old canon and are new canon. The tools are there – USE THEM!!! The book – really Charles Soule in general –  is doing the heavy lifting of world building and establishing many of the characters – the least Scott can do is alley oop these layups.

3.  As mentioned earlier, Keeve uses a Vector to as the driving force to solve the problem but, there was no footnote and or reference to the fact that this was a special kind of ship. Moreover, the use of the Vector has already broken the canon that has JUST been established for it – Vectors are powered by the Jedi’s Lightsaber, the hub changes color to that of the lightsaber that activated it, it is steered by the user’s ability with Force, and there should be no autopilot and astromech droids there to guide it based on the fact that these innovations are rare within the galaxy in this era.

Why add these parameters if the creators that be are not going to adhere to them?

Ultimately, this issue threatened to be interesting. If this is the modus operandi of the series as a whole… making good on the threat will be the difference between triumph and downfall.

[tokiro07]

Voyager Class Ideas

Since Type-Moon has kindly confirmed that Voyager is a real class and not just the name of its current only hero, Voyager 1, so as with every other class, I’m going to speculate on its potential members before Type-Moon even explains what the qualifications are

Going by the name and the one member, I think we can safely assume that it’s a class for heroes who go on voyages, perhaps even designating its members as Heroic Spirits of the Journey (or of the Voyage, but that’s redundant). As a voyage is traditionally defined as a journey taken aboard a ship (across water or through space) I imagine a number of Riders would qualify, specifically those who traveled far from home by sea, such as Jason on the Argo, Captain Nemo on the Nautilus, or the various pirate Servants like Blackbeard on the Queen Anne’s Revenge. 

I don’t imagine a ship is a hard requirement here, though, and even someone traveling on foot would probably qualify if they went far enough. The journey itself rather than the mode of transportation is most likely the deciding factor here. People who embarked on epic quests like King Arthur and his knights in search of the Holy Grail or Gilgamesh in search of immortality might qualify by this definition, though again it might depend on how far from home they had to travel. I was actually planning to use the Wandering Jew here to fit that concept, but he’s already a canon character in Requiem, so I don’t feel right using him.

Sinbad the Sailor: 

Roc- Sinbad summons a giant bird by removing his turban, which Sinbad wraps around the Roc’s leg to use it for transportation or command it to attack enemies with its talons, beak, or boulders; this qualifies Sinbad for Rider class. 

Aspidochelone- a Reality Marble where both Sinbad and a target are stranded on an island, which is in reality a whale; should either combatant make too much noise, start a fire, damage the island, or otherwise alert it to their presence, the whale will submerge, crushing them under the waves; the Reality Marble can be dissipated by killing Sinbad in time, and the sinking can be survived with flight, Skills or Noble Phantasms related to survival or water, or a sufficient Luck stat. 

By Fortune and Fate- as Sinbad was able to survive the many disasters he attracted and subsequently accumulate so many treasures either by coincidence or the misfortune of others, Sinbad is able to survive in even the unlikeliest of circumstances, and defeated Servants will leave behind their Noble Phantasms (if applicable) for Sinbad to claim as his own, though they will generally be weakened. 

Sinbad’s Armaments include a bow and arrow (Archer), a scimitar (Saber), and the Cyclops’ two iron spits (Lancer).

Thorfinn Karlsefni: 

Vinland- Thorfinn creates a Reality Marble of a tranquil village, wherein he offers food and drink to an enemy Servant in exchange for laying down their arms; should they take the offer, the opposing Servant will gain an increase in their stats in exchange for becoming an ally to Thorfinn until the final battle of the Holy Grail War; should they refuse, the two will commence battle immediately, with the enemy Servant suffering a stat decrease. 

Thor’s Boon- the beached whale that sustained Thorfinn’s crew through the winter, eating its meat heals Thorfinn’s wounds and can even sustain his mana supply should something happen to his Master. The whale has no direct use in combat, though a sufficiently strong Servant may be able to lift it and wield it as a blunt object. As a carcass, it can potentially spread illness to Servants in the form of a stat decrease, which would be especially potent in Christian Servants.

Skraeling Bull- Thorfinn summons a bull that goes on a rampage and instills a strong urge to retreat in enemies without sufficiently strong mental fortitude; natives of the land the bull is summoned in will have much greater difficulty resisting the urge to retreat.

If Thorfinn is summoned on the east coast of Canada, where Vinland is believed to be located, his stats dramatically increase and all of his Noble Phantasms rank up

Ponce de Leon: 

Fountain of Youth- entering the waters of the fountain allows de Leon to recover from any wound so long as he still has mana; drinking the water separately from the fountain allows for healing of any non-fatal wound.

Lemuel Gulliver: 

Adventure- aboard the ship that brought Gulliver to (at least one of) his various destinations, Gulliver can direct or randomly spin the helm to face the ship towards one of them; Lilliput- enemy Servants are swarmed by the tiny Lilliputians; Brobdingnag- enemies are attacked by giants; Balnibarbi- enemies are attacked by stones dropped from the floating island of Laputa or Laputa falls upon them; Glubbdubdrib- Gulliver visits a non-classed necromancer who allows him to consult with spirits, generally for the sake of learning more about other Servants; Houyhnhnm-Land- Servants are trampled by a stampede of talking horses or attacked by a ravenous pack of deformed, human-like Yahoos. 

Yahoos With the Gift of Speech- a passive Noble Phantasm, Gulliver’s disdainful view of humans causes humans and Servants of human origin in his vicinity to begin to lose intelligence and reason (with the exception of his own Master); Servants that are less human, such as being partially or completely of Divine, monstrous, mechanical, or bestial origin, suffer a smaller decrease based on how little humanity they have.

Dorothy Gale: 

Silver Shoes/Ruby Slippers- grants Dorothy the ability to instantly travel wherever she wishes as well as granting protection from harm; though the ruby variant is more well known, the shoes were originally silver in the novels, thus allowing Dorothy to change them to their original silver to hide her identity, though invoking Ruby Slippers as the True Name grants her greater magic on account of their infamy. 

Tin-Man/Scarecrow/Cowardly Lion- Dorothy can summon any of her companions as non-classed Servants. 

Toto- though she generally won’t use him, Dorothy’s dog can exit her basket to engage in combat; he can also speak to Dorothy to give advice.

Chicxulub Impactor (personification of the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs; also qualifies for Foreigner): 

Alvarez Hypothesis- Chicxulub summons an asteroid to crush their target; officially, this is an Anti-Planet Noble Phantasm, but if summoned through the Holy Grail, its power is actually limited to either Anti-Army or Anti-Fortress to prevent global destruction. Fragments of the full impactor can be broken off to be used as Armaments without invoking its True Name, and may be used to change the impactor’s area of effect.

[Note: I also considered Robinson Crusoe, Doctor Dolittle and Don Quixote, but I decided against them because while they are all known for voyages and journey, I felt they were either potentially better suited for other classes or just weren’t as interesting as other options. I may add them in here later, but I generally try to limit these posts to about five or six Heroes. I also considered Phileas Fogg and Dante Alighieri, but I’ve already used both of them in a previous post and I didn’t want to use any repeats if I could help it. All of these Heroes that I ignored are perfectly viable, I just didn’t take the time to put their Noble Phantasms in this post.]

[curious-minx]

Denis Leary is making an animated vignette series based on Dogs Playing Poker and 10 Other Pieces of Kitsch Art That Should Be Turned Into TV

KITSCH auction house tremors and stampedes.

Dennis Leary basically discovered sex, drugs and rock n’ roll with his 2015 two season FX series Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll. Leary’s always been one of those guys that can’t be beaten down  in spite of how dopey and cynical his edgy working class personal brand is. He’s got an entire deal set up with Fox, the flailing broadcasting company has placed all of their chips on a Denis with only one lousy  “N” in his name. I can’t even with this fake Irish Bostonian droid. Relish in the delicate thought process of Leary and leftover former Daily Show producer, Jim Margolis,  bringing up a Pinterest screen grab of the Dogs Playing Poker by Grand Master of Kitsch Cassius Marcellus Coolidge and money signs popping out of both of their heads. Here is a dramatic retelling of this thought process:

“Yo, get this Big D,” salivates the recently fired from Netflix Jim Margolis to Leary over a Zoom, “Fox got this Bento Box Animation Studio sitting around doing nothing but churning out animated interstitials for the Masked Singer, Paradise PD, The Prince, The Blues Brothers animated series, animated Harold And Kumar, Housebroken, The Great North, and ugh..um..Hoops..”

“I fuckin love Hoops, Jimmy! Why aren’t we pitching this on Netflix again?”

“Because Dogs Playing Poker is going to work so much better as pregame filler for live Sporting Events...on Fox.”

“Oh yeah. All of those rotten good for nothing grease monkey and lunch pail people will probably be giving each other Budweiser flavored Covid at the local saloon with these damn dog pictures hanging up. It’s like when old drunks would stay out late and watch the Flinstones at the bar, did you know that actual human male adults would sit in a town like Boston and waste away in a bar watching Flintsones. Can you believe that Johny?”

“My name is Jimmy, err Jim, but yeah Denis we’ll send you the scripts over. Any idea who we should cast?”

“Get me the hot blonde from Inspector Gadget 2, God dammit I miss Louie..are we sure we can’t get Louie back on air?”

“Afraid after Patton Oswalt dognapped his role from him in Secret Life of Pets, Louie CK has been banned from ever appearing as a talking dog again.”

“So bogus. Bobby Kelly will have to do.” Denis gets a text. “Dammit, Adam is getting all thirsty for this juicy  delicious bone. Gotta throw a  big bone to my dog Ferrera. Who else?”

“Ok. I’ll get one of those sad Daily Show losers. Um picking one at random, Roy Wood Jr. They’ll pretty much jump into anything, because John Oliver was in Love Guru they start thinking they can fail their way up.”

“I said no politics at the table! Paws off the table! This is going to be so fucking lit!”

////

Kitsch Art deserves so much more. George Lucas, retired American filmmaker, robber baron of childhoods and all around  mensch has been heavily invested in the kitsch art of Norman Rockwell. There are a bounty of stories to tell. Too many of them are far too white and basic, but there are rich narratives to be found in his out of date even for his own time romanticism of The Old Masters. Hopelessly out of date could have been a failing of Rockwell, but his politics grew progressive as his career went on and fought against the system. Cassius Marcellus Coolidge is the man that operated the first bank in Antwerp, New York  had the astronaut-like grace to wonder, “what if dogs played poker like people played poker?” A painting that dates back to 1894 used as means to sell cigars. What strikes me most about this painting is that they aren’t wearing clothes, but I bet when you try to imagine the painting you imagine these dogs fully decked out in some sort of work coat. There is a further anthropromized version of the ad called “His Station and Four Aces” that depicts a glimpse at a look at an entire canine furry society. His ideas of putting an animal in clothes remains to this day one of the most novel and surefire commercially friendly means of artistic expression. The original cynical man laughing all the way to the bank, his own bank that he founded to boot.

Seen above: An example of a Comic Foreground that also demonstrates the failings of having too few people in your party to properly partake in the comic foreground experience. 

“Cash” Cassius wasn’t the first man to imagine a domestic pet in people clothes, but he’s probably one of the few to do so with such commercial finesse. The man also at one point filed the patent on the “Comic Foregrounds,” which is the technical name of one of those carnival boards with holes to stick your head in. In post Covid times how many more heads will be salivating and rushing towards those holes to pop their heads in to create a lasting memory, if only for a second. So when I start learning more about this remarkable weirdo Cassius Coolidge, a man according to his official website dogsplayingpoker.com’s Biography: “Trying to chase mischievous boys from an abandoned house, he fell from a window and hurt his knee, leaving him injured for the rest of his life.”

Flash forward back to 2021 and Denis Leary and his career a man with a wikipedia with fun entries about all the accusations of plagiarism and hate speech against autism I start to worry about the legacy of more Kitsch art falling into the hands of other greedy and desperate TV executives. That being said if you are a greedy TV executive who happens to be a maniac that likes reading rando’s tumblr pages do I have a list for you!

TOP TEN PIECES OF KITSCH ART THAT SHOULD BE TURNED INTO SOME KIND OF SOMETHING

“We Are Having a Heavenly Time” Columbian Bike Monkey and Parakeet by, once again, Cassius Coolidge

Coolidge’s anthropomorphic foresight strikes again! This time he effortlessly establishes a captivating duo that could be easily voiced by an endless combination of celebrity voice actors. PAUL RUDD as “Monkey” and ISSA RAE as “Parakeet” present “We Are Having a Heavenly Time” present a travel show. You could basically use whatever leftover footage you have lying around from the many Conan O’Brien segments and plug Monkey and Parakeet and their trusty bicycle anywhere for an irreverent glimpse into the foreign World around us.

2. “Clown and The Girl” by Haddon Sundblom  

Now I know what you’re thinking, that title is miserable! I agree, but with a little  reverse engineering you get The Girl and Clown, which could be a whole new addition to the Girl on a Train, Girl with a Dragon Tattoo, Girl with a Dangly Earpiece, the Girl-Verse! The girl appears to be quite fearless of this clown, which is good because we need someone to be brave for when the clown takes off his mask.

Sundblom is also the original artist for the Coke a cola Santa Claus and how is it that we have gone this many rotations around the sun without a single Coke a cola Santa Claus special is the real reason why Christmas will always be the saddest time of year.

3. “Clean Your Fornasetti” based around the artistic Plate collection of Pierro Fornasetti 

Muk bangs, videos of people eating are a huge cyber traffic boom. People love watching people eat. Why not add the element of surprise by what kind of playful Fornasetti chanteuse is hiding underneath this plate full of gruel? Fornasetti is an artist with over 11,000 items created in his name and over 500 of them are based around a variety of expressions of a single woman. Clean Your Fornasetti is a deep and poetic rumination of the romance between the act of someone cleaning their plate and the reveal that the plate contained a visual feast all its own.

4. “Mickey’s Kinkade Playhouse” by the one and only Thomas Kinkade

The Kinkade Studios features over 63 “narrative panoramas” featuring Disney characters, but largely Mickey and Minnie, simply vibing. It’s time we stop pretending that small children like Mickey Mouse and market him for wistful older audiences that want to radiate in a nice long warm bath of color and sound. I am not sure I am even pitching an actual series but more of a Narrative Panoply. One thing that is missing from Disney Plus, and streaming services in general, is a severe lack of programming frills and flourishing. The iconic Adult Swim bumps are something completely lost to the dustbins of programming history left to remain in youtube compilations. Thomas Kinkade is a lot like Enya. Art critics treated him like a comedic punching bag for so long, but I doubt there’s an artist that grasps the kind of sterile enchantment people want after a long day of opioid benders. We’re all trapped inside doing puzzles why not do the bare minimum of slightly animating a pleasant scene of Mickey and Minnie roasting marshmallows or enjoying a breath of fresh Alpine air?

5. “Dust Lickers” by Odd Nerdrum

Quick! Get me Trash Humpers’ Harmony Korine on the Line Show him Shit Rock! The world of Odd Nerdrum is a harsh and primeval one that would make for an astonishing animated landscape. Odd Nerdrum himself feels like a worthy subject of some kind of documentary based around his imagery and insistence on making his art in the most arcane and old fashioned methods possible. Once again, maybe the visual world of Odd Nerdrum may not make for a full on narrative series, but once again would make for one hell of an animated segment.

6. “Homemade Pasta” by John Currin 

A cozy Queer slice of life cooking drama based around the two charming fellows of John Currin’s Homemade Pasta scene. A series of vignettes based around the completely unfabulous and domestic version of bliss that was denied many people as a result of the AIDS crisis. You can’t tell me you don’t see those two nice guys getting cozy and making pasta together and you aren’t dying to see how they go about rolling out their own focaccia bread.

7. “The Velvet Elvis” by the Collective Conscious 

David Lynch at one point in time was trying to crack into making his own Elvis biopic. I think it’s pretty safe to say that the age of a public wanting a David Lynch directed Elvis biopic has probably passed, but that does not stop Velvet art enthusiasts. TheVelvetStore.com is featuring a remarkable promo that could really bump up what a David Lynch Elvis movie could be like and the horror of having one’s soul trapped inside of a Velvet Elvis rendition painting seems like a pretty fertile place to begin a proper story about Elvis in America. 

8. “Big Eye Bunch” by Margaret Keane 

Yes, it was only a matter of time before Ms. Big Eyes herself, Queen of Kitsch, Margaret Keane would come up on a list like this. Tim Burton tried and sort of kind of captured what it so endearing about Keane’s work, but I think a fully animated dive into an orphanage full of sad Big Eye kids that time travel and meet other Big Eyed children version of historical figures is a Big Idea that could make a whole new generation keen on Keane.

9. “Banality” by Jeff Koons

An animated series based around the artistic sensibilities of Jeff Koons would be a tricky affair, but just the kind of gaudy whimsy that someone like Michel Gondrey could use to proper effect. A series based around someone trying to steal the fifteen million dollar Michael Jackson statue would also be appropriate.

10. “Groovenians reboot” by Kenny Scharf

Scharf is the only artist on this list that actually was a kitsch artist that caught the attention of early aughts adult swim. A tv show that only features the artistic sensibilities of Scharf but also a voice acting cast that consisted of Paul Reubens, Rupaul, Vincent Gallo, and Dennis Hopper. There’s also a theme song performed by the B-52s and musical direction by Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh. One of the only known published reviews of the pilot describe the show as needing mind altering substances to enjoy and that it is essentially like “watching a cartoon reflected off of a funhouse mirror. This is basically a description of the modern tik tok addled twitchy type content that makes a killing on the Internet for millenial and zoomer types. Basically the whole aesthetic of a warped and broken looking cartoon is the exact sort of thing weirdos deep diving at youtube at four in the morning are looking for and seeing that this gets a failed pilot and Denis Leary’s Dog Poker vignettes get greenlit is exactly what’s wrong with the world.

[thorne93]

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 51)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:3608

Warnings: Language, fighting, lost control of powers OFC, reader argues with loki, heart to heart, hurt reader, feeling out of place, homesick loki,

song for this part: Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Shannon were sitting on your beds, playing on your phones when you heard what sounded like a stampede in the hall. Both of you peered up curiously. 

“What’s going on?” Shannon called out. 

A young girl, Julie you think her name was, answered with excitement, “Tony Stark and Loki are fighting in the gym! Logan is referring!” 

Your eyes met Shannon’s and the two of you made a mad dash for the ring as best you could. You two wanted to fly, but with the toll the transfusions were taking, that just wasn’t possible. So you scrambled along as fast as you could down the hallway to the gym. 

Just as you walked in, you saw Loki land a hard punch on Tony’s jaw, sending him to the mat face down. As Loki moved toward Tony though, Tony turned and kicked him in the stomach with a hard grunt. The motion made him wheeze as he fell to his knees, gripping his stomach. 

“What are you doing?!” you boomed out, your emotions flaring. 

Logan upon seeing both women knew exactly what could happen so at the top of his lungs, he shouted, “Everyone OUT! I don’t want to see a single student in here right now.” His deep voice making a rumbling echo in the room.

There was a collective “aww” made by the students. A few were actually aware of the reason behind it so they helped lead the others out and back to their schedules.

“You heard the guy!” Wade puts up his macho man act on. “Scram!!” He crosses his arms and he give the students a look.

“What is wrong with you two!” Shannon yelled but the two men were too busy trying to continue fighting. “Y/N, we have to stop them they’re going to get hurt and I can’t heal them in this state I'm in. I'm not sure how much more I can see before my powers try to take over.” She looked to her friend and just as she finished her sentence, her powers (as if called upon) activated causing her to rise up into the air. Her eyes had begun glaze over a milky white then suddenly became swirls of red and purple.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, fear wrapping around you before your eyes darted to the two men. “Hey! Knock it off!” you screamed at the two. They finally heard you, both of them turning to you before their eyes traveled up to Shannon, floating in mid-air.

“Umm, boys it looks like we are in for some trouble. You better stop your fight now,” Logan said as he saw his close friend being controlled by what she was trying to get rid of.

“Looks like you two are in for a world of trouble now!” Wade grins seeing his badass of a friend get ready to do her thing. “Give it to ‘em  cupcake!” He roots for her.

Knock it off Wade!” Logan gets closer to the other man and smacks him upside the head.

“Shannon!” Tony yelped when he realized that she was up in the air, unable to control what was happening.

“Y/N?” Loki said in a confused tone, eyeing you.

All you could do was stare at him. What on Earth was he doing?

“Enough! You two are acting like children,” came Shannon’s booming voice that echoed and made the lights flicker and shake from the sound. “What is wrong with you two?” Her hands were filled with two growing energies and she was ready to throw them to split the two apart.

“Shannon, sweetie, you need to get down. You're not strong enough to be doing this right now.” Tony took his gloves off and was walking towards the edge of the ring. “Babe, I’ll stop, okay? Look, I’m going to get out of the ring.”

“You shouldn’t have been in there in the first place, Anthony Edward Stark.” she was visibly upset and he knew that she only ever called him that when he’d done something wrong. 

In the very same instant, Bruce was entering the room and noticed everyone looking up and he panicked seeing Shannon in mid-air when she was in no condition to be doing so. “Shannon, get down you’re going to get hurt!” 

As if his words were a command, she closed her eyes and grabbed her head and just like that she was falling. 

“Shannon!” came from all but Loki’s mouth as they all rushed to reach her before she hit the floor.

The first one to actually reach was Bruce and was able to catch her in time, he saw just how much doing something as being up there had drained her of any energy she might have been getting back from her rest.

“Nice catch Brucie, guess the fun's over for now,” He pats the man on the shoulder. “Let me know when she wakes up so I can see her.” Wade pulls out a sucker from his pocket and walks away.

He nods his head and looks down at Shannon. “Y/N, we need to get back to the room and check her status. I may need you to do another transfusion if necessary,” he said looking at her after making sure he had a good grip on Shannon. “Come with me. We need to hurry.”

You bit your lip. “Alright, fine, yeah, just tell me what you need.” 

“Bruce, is she okay?” Tony had jumped down from the ring and was at the Dr.’s side in an instant. “Here, I’ll take her you can go ahead and get things ready.”

“No, I think you’ve done more than enough, Tony.” He frowned at the man. “Logan, go inform Hank that I need him down in the room. We need to do a complete check on her.” Without a second glance, he walked out of the room and hurried as carefully as possible to get Shannon back into her bed. “I hope you didn’t over do it, Shan, what the hell were you thinking?”

“B-Bruce?” Her voice was hoarse. “What happened? All I remember was telling Y/N something then things went black.”

“It’s okay, I’ll explain when we get back to the room, okay?”

Shannon nodded her head and she leaned it on his chest.

All four men and you had followed Bruce back to the room adjacent to the Med Bay. Just as Shannon was put back in be,  Hank entered the room with the equipment and Charles soon after showed up to find out what had happened.

“Can someone please explain what occurred?” Charles looked to the men but they all seemed to avoid looking into his eyes.

“Tony and Loki were in the ring, fighting,” you explained evenly. “I think Logan arranged it. I’m not sure why they were there to begin with, but by the time we got there, they were bloodied and bruised. I think the sight upset Shannon too much and her powers overcame her and she collapsed from mid-air. Bruce caught her though.” 

“Her vitals aren’t stable,” he informed everyone in the room. “The best I can tell is that she’s suffered from an attack. Something much like a heart attack or anxiety attack.” 

“Logan, I presume you have something to do with this.” Charles looked over at him. “Why am I not surprised, really to these lengths you’d go.” He shook his head.

“It was better than letting these two idiots duke it out in the middle of the hall causing a commotion,” was his response. “Dr.Banner notify me when she’s woken up. I wanna say I’m sorry for causing all this.”  And with that he walked out of the room.

“You got it, Logan.” Bruce tucked a strand of hair behind Shannon’s ear unaware of the look Tony was giving him. “Are we ready for a full scan, Hank?”

“Y/N,” Hank started and your eyes darted towards him as you chewed your nail. “I hate to ask this. I know you did a transfusion today, but I’m going to need another one. Her body is a wreck right now and I need some more of your power to sort her cells out. Do you think you’d be up for it?”

You nodded. “Sure.” Easily, you lifted your hand and let the power stream out of you and into your best friend. With each second, you could feel yourself getting tired, weaker, your legs were close to giving out, but she needed this. For a moment, the words of Frigga and Thor echoed in your head about needing to be in Asgard, that you drew your power from there.

Tony could see just how much of a toll this was on you. He hadn’t been around when you would do the transfusions and knowing you’re doing a second one on the same day he felt guilty. None of this would have happened if he had kept his mouth shut, but he was too frustrated with what he had seen earlier. He walked over to you and helped steady you so that you wouldn’t collapse.

“Here let me help you,” was all he said as he held you up.

“I’m okay, Tony, I can still stand, I might need help getting to my bed though.” You pointed towards where you had been sleeping lately. “Thank you though.”

“We’ll talk later, okay? You need to rest,” Tony replied and helped you to your bed. All the while Loki just stood there watching the whole thing. He hadn’t said much since he said her name in the ring.

“Thanks, Tony I look forward to our chat,” you replied. You looked over at Loki, seeing him look anywhere else but at you. 

“Looks like Shannon is back down to a good level. I suggest these two women be left alone for the time being,” Hank told the other people in the room.

“Alright this should be enough for now, Y/N. Why don’t you go get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in a few hours?” Bruce suggested.  He turned to Charles. “She’s stable again, since she’s had two transfusions in a day, we should wait until the next one. Her body may not be able to resist going into a semi-comatose state.”

“You’re right. We’ll give them both a longer time to recover before continuing.” Nodding his head towards everyone else, he left the room.

“I’ll let Gambit know he won’t be able to visit this afternoon so you can relax okay?” Bruce told you as he checked your vitals once you were comfortable on your bed.

“He’ll probably still show up later but it’s fine, thank you though.” You smiled at the man.

“No problem.” He walked away letting them get situated.

Before you could sleep though, you needed a word with your boyfriend. You pushed him out of the room and in the hall, closing the door behind you.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” you demanded of Loki, not hiding the anger in your tone.

“Me? I could ask that of you. I thought you were bedridden?” he accused angrily. 

“I am,” you insisted. “Who told you I’m not?” 

“I saw it with my own eyes. You were holding, I don’t know who,” he informed. 

“Remy? I was dancing with Remy. Is that a crime?” you asked. “Besides, what the hell does that have to do with beating the shit out of Tony?”

He looked off, pressing his lips together. You knew that look, he was trying to calm himself before he answered. “I saw you with that man and I… Stark and I may have exchanged words right after.” 

You shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You have to be joking. After everything I’ve done? After risking my life, after almost dying for you, after sacrificing living a normal life for you, do you still think I would love someone else?!” 

His eyes turned hard as they focused on you. “And you’re really that blind? I’m not worthy of your love. I’ve nearly gotten you killed. Had you imprisoned. Because of me, you’ve been outcasted by all your friends and family. It makes sense for you to love anyone else but me.”

All you could do was shake your head before quietly confirming, “Yeah, it does.” 

With that, you turned on your heel to race to your room, your heart racing and tears threatening. 

----------------------------------

Loki stood in the hallway dumbfounded, questions if maybe his self destructive ways had finally come back to bite him in the ass. Just as he picked up his ego off the floor and headed out the door, Tony approached him and slapped his back. 

“Now that we’ve gotten the testosterone out of our system, what do you say we go get drinks?” 

Loki stopped, completely stunned. “You honestly want to go out on a social outing with me?” 

“Sure, why not? Not like either of us are wanted here right now. Come on, I’ll drive,” Tony offered in his usual casual laid back way. 

Loki seemed incredulous, but after the unusual day he’d already had, he succumbed and climbed into the flashy sports car, and he actually admired it. 

Before too long, they wound up at a bar far on the outskirts of the city. Tony didn’t want either one of them to be recognized and he knew if he went anywhere in Manhattan or the surrounding boros, they’d be spotted in an instant. He wanted to be left alone for once.

“So, Reindeer Games, what happened to make you want to fight?” he asked as he sipped a cherry merlot. “Something happened with you and Y/N/N?”

“Not directly,” Loki muttered as he toyed with the full glass in front of him. “I…She’s dancing with some man. I don’t know who he is. She shouldn’t be dancing with anyone but me. I thought she was bedridden. She looked so…” He stopped, getting angry, and felt odd telling Tony all of this. “Why do you care anyway? It just gave you an excuse for us to be violent with one another again.” 

“Hah! If I knew any better I'd say you're jealous of that guy, but fear not, he won’t do anything.” reassured him. “I won’t say that I care, because I don’t, at least not one hundred percent.” He stopped to phrase it right. “But for the sake of Shannon and Y/N things are tough.”

“I realize that, Stark, thank you for the incredible insight,” he snapped and rolled his eyes. “How do you know he won’t do anything?” he suddenly questioned. “They looked fairly comfortable to me. Remy…” he mused with distaste. “That’s what she called him. I think he’s her friend from childhood. So yes, if you must know, Stark, I am jealous. She’s been here for weeks and I haven’t seen her. Then when I do come to visit, she’s dancing closely with...him.” He scowled. “She looked so… comfortable. So happy…” 

“And why on earth did you decide today of all the times you could’ve come to see her, did you choose today?” He still couldn’t understand that. “She’s asked for you constantly, as for Remy they’re like brother and sister.” He took another sip. “They only ever had each other when they were orphans so it's normal for her to feel comfortable around him, they also happen to share the same powers and he lives at the mansion.” He went on explaining their relationship to try to ease Loki about the situation.

Loki’s jaw clenched. “You’re right, I know, I just…” He tried to keep his temper in check. “Wait, why were you angry today? You were looking for a fight more than I was. What had you so bothered?” he questioned, turning the tables. He knew it was silly to be jealous, but how could he help it? You were free now, in more ways than one and you could, if you so chose, find a different mate than him. You were no longer confined to a cell with Loki. You could very well leave him in pursuit of another now. 

“Well...I.. listen, we’re still talking about you and Y/N don’t try changing the subject,” he tried to push it back to him, but he knew the other man would continue to ask, so he told him anyways. “With Shannon having been at the mansion so much, Bruce took it upon himself to become her nurse of sorts and I found them enjoying some time out in the gardens. She was relaxed in his lap listening to what he was saying and if what I’m thinking is true, then Banner has grown feelings for her.” He shook his head never would he have thought he’d be here with the god having a touching moment of honesty.

“Ah, I see. So the green eyed monster has hit us both, then hmm?” Loki noted, a little amused. “ As for you and Shannon, I’ve never seen a woman so enthralled by anyone. She puts up with all of your… you-ness, and still comes back to you every day, happy. I don’t know either of them too terribly well, but I don’t think either would ever set out to hurt you. People can’t help how they feel, and if they’re both ignoring said feelings for your sake, which I assume and think they are, then you have nothing to fear. Shannon is your wife. I was at the wedding. It was… lovely, for lack of a better word. Your love doesn’t have a threat.” He played with the glass some more, still not drinking. “I am just worried… I’ve outstayed my welcome in her life, if that makes any sense.” 

To be honest, it felt good to talk to someone. Thor wasn’t around, and he couldn’t confess how he felt to you, because you’d just assure him you still loved him. So it was nice to vent to someone other than you, confide in a new person… a new confidant.

“You honestly think that? That your time has expired? You couldn’t be more wrong she’d be devastated if you left.” He looked at the man next to him. “There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to prove to you that you’re all she needs, but there’s been so much that you haven’t even had a chance to digest it all because I'm assuming this is all too much, right?” 

“You can say that again,” he muttered. “I just wish… I wish we didn’t have to be here. Asgard is our home. Despite my feelings towards Odin, Thor is still my brother and Y/N’s parents are from there. She’s from there! I guess I just always thought we’d return home to Asgard one day. Not stay here… But it’s clear she enjoys her life on Earth.” He twisted the glass between his long fingers, spinning it on the bar slowly. “I suppose for the first time together, we want two different things.” 

“Well why not take a break from being here and go back home?” He figured some time away would help clear his mind. “Talk with Y/N and see if you two want to go there for a little vacation and come back when you're ready?” He turned to the bartender and asked for one more glass of wine. 

“You’re suggesting I tell Y/N I want to leave her home, and go back to mine? Won’t that send the wrong message?” 

“Well not if you dont explain why,tell her you miss Asgard.” He shook his head. “She'd like to go visit too is my bet.” He raised an eyebrow.

Loki conceded with a sigh. “I may do that, and if she doesn’t want to come back with me, then perhaps I should go back on my own, just for a little while.” 

“There you go! Let me know what gets decided and I’ll get the paperwork ready and approved.” He clapped the dark haired man. “How long would ya like to be out for? Granted I can't give you more than a few weeks due to your probation.”

“Give me however long is allowed,” he requested. The more the thought on it, the more he wondered if perhaps you really were better off without him. Tony hadn’t explicitly said it, but he got the notion in Loki’s head that maybe you belonged here on Earth, and he belonged on Asgard. He didn’t want to leave you. It would kill him, but he wanted you to have a chance at a happy life, and that wasn’t possible with him in the picture. You’d said yourself that it made sense to love anyone else but him. So this was him, doing the noble thing for once, and stepping aside so you could have a good, normal, happy life with Remy, or whomever you chose. “I never thought I’d say this, Stark, but thank you… for the drink, the talk, and what the hell, even the fight.” He let a warm smirk creep onto his face as he glanced sideways at Tony. 

“You know what? I could say the same thing for you. Looks like we can agree on something.” He laughed. Who would have thought that after everything that has happened he could sit down with the guy and talk like old friends. “You want to get one more drink and get back to the city?” He smirks back at him.

“Sounds good, Tin man,” Loki said, trying to hide his smile, and failing miserably.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @essie1876​ @magpiegirl80​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @iamwarrenspeace​ @marvel-imagines-yes-please​ @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification​ @thejemersoninferno​ @rda1989​ @munlis​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @bubblyanarocks3​​ @igiveupicantthinkofausername​​ @kaliforniacoastalteens​ @feelmyroarrrr​​ @kaelingoat-blog​ @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​ @damalseer​​ @heyitscam99​​ @yknott81​​ @sorryimacrapwriter​​ @glitterquadricorn​​ @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm​​ @alyssaj23​​ @sea040561​​ @princess76179​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sarahp879​​ @malfoysqueen14​​ @ellallheart​​ @breezy1415​​ @marvelmayo​​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton @paintballkid711​

Loki: @lostinspace33​​ @ultrarebelheart​​ @lenawiinchester​​ @esoltis280​​ @tngrayson​​ @wangdeasang​​ @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice​​

UC: @lokis-high-priestess​

[courtofsapphiresandshadows]

Chapter Twenty Two- Nesta

Nesta woke up in a familiar yet foreign place. 

She was in her apartment- the crack along the side of the wall gave it away. But it was clear that someone else- someone who probably cared more about interior design and comfort that she did- had taken up residence when Nesta returned to the House of Wind to be with Aegan and Estelle. The musty sheets and pillows had been replaced by ones that smelled faintly of frankincense, the once threadbare blanket swapped with a warm comforter. 

“I was wondering when you’d wake up,” Sasha's voice echoed through the room. “We were starting to get worried.”  

Nesta’s eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”

“I had to knock you out before you killed yourself, Nesta. If it weren’t for Cassian and Estelle, I don’t think either one of us would’ve made it out of there alive.” 

Her gut twisted. She could’ve killed Sasha. Cassian and Estelle too, if they didn’t overcome her in time. If that had happened, Nesta’s guilt would’ve killed her, although Rhysand would probably get to her first. 

Her eyes found Sasha sitting on a stool next to the bed. As always, her beloved knives were strapped to her chest, each blade glinting menacingly in the winter sun. Nesta knew that there were others hidden in the folds of her hooded jacket, more still in her travel pack that sat next to her feet. 

“Where are you going?”

She glanced out the window. “Aegan hasn’t responded to any of my messages in the last week. I figured that I’d go check on her, just in case she needs me.” 

Nesta understood the longing she felt- when Feyre was on the battlefield, a part of her wanted to burst out of her tent and save her younger sister before it was too late. Not that she’d ever admit it, of course. They wouldn’t believe her anyways. 

Sasha reached over and took her hand. “Enough about my concerns. How are you feeling?” 

In truth, she felt like her body had the life sucked out of it, before being trampled over by a stampede of horses. She felt hot and cold all at once, and although she felt empty, she knew that wretched power was merely subdued for the time being. She felt so many things, that she didn’t know how to put it into words without exhausting herself. 

“I’m tired. I feel tired,” she whispered. 

She squeezed her hand once, then again. “If you want, I can stay for another day,” Sasha told her, removing her hand, “but not longer than that.”

Nesta shook her head. “No. Go to Aegan- she’ll love the company.” 

Sasha smiled softly. “The others are here to take care of you, if you need it.” 

“Who?” Nesta began to ask, but the redhead had winnowed away, revealing two two Illyrians standing in the door frame. Estelle, tears running down her face, and Cassian, who looked on the verge of tears as well.

“How are you feeling?” Cassian asked as the younger Illyrian launched herself at her side. 

Nesta winced as Estelle jostled the bed, the Illyrian wrapping her arms tightly around her.. “Fine,” she managed to wheeze out. “What happened?” 

Estelle pulled back, looking down at her with tears streaking down her face. “Oh Nesta, you were on fire, and I didn’t know what to do, and when Cassian pulled you out, you weren’t breathing-” a sob cut her off. “We thought you were dead.” 

“Cassian did what?” She hissed, glancing at the commander, who was standing awkwardly in the doorway. There were no signs of injury on him, unlike the others- she didn’t miss the burns and scrapes that were scattered on Estelle and Sasha. 

He smiled timidly, void of the arrogance that had always accompanied him. “I made an oath to protect you and your sisters,” he told her, leaning against the door frame. “Even if you don’t need it.” 

A sigh of frustration escaped her lips. “You could’ve died, Cassian.” 

“I was concerned about other things then.” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Estelle wasn’t kidding about the fire- Nesta, what was that?” 

“If you’re suggesting that I never use my power again, I might agree with you.” 

“I was actually going to recommend siphons- bottling up your power won’t help anyone, yourself included.” He told her, before crouching next to the bed. “If you’d like, I’ll get a set of siphons that you can try.”

Nesta didn’t respond. Instead, she pressed her head into the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t want to think about her disastrous powers- rest is what she wanted, what she needed. 

Cassian patted her hand. “We’ll have this conversation later. Rest, sweetheart. Estelle and I will be here if you need us.” The floorboards creaked as the two stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut. 

Nesta opened her eyes. She heard that hidden promise- he would protect her from harm. Just as she had done on that battlefield a year ago, when death seemed inevitable. She came to his aid, even if neither of them stood a chance against the King of Hybern. It was an instinct to protect- she knew it was what made Cassian pitch himself at her, even if she was a blazing inferno. 

She would confront that instinct another time, when her mind wasn’t scrambled. But now, she would listen to Cassian’s advice, and let sleep claim her. 

.

.

.

Sleep came quickly afterwards. There were no dreams, no nightmares, just blissful darkness. Occasionally, she would briefly awaken to see either Estelle or Cassian sitting on the stool close to her side. Their presence was soothing- Estelle had read a book aloud to her softly, while Cassian sharpened a few of his blades. Sometimes, he would tell her stories of his childhood and of the camps. His voice, soft and baritone, always lulled her back to sleep before he could finish his story. She would need to ask him to repeat his stories later, when she could stay awake.

Nesta had slept for another day until she felt the strength to actually sit up in bed. When she did, something large and black had leapt onto the bed- Bones, tongue lolling out of his mouth in a doggy smile. 

She patted the sheets next to her. “Haven’t seen you in awhile- where have you been?” She asked, as the mastiff curled up next to her, resting his massive head on her thigh. The dog, clearly content with himself, sighed deeply before promptly falling asleep. 

The door creaked open. Cassian, his black hair sticking to his face with sweat, greeted her with a soft grin. “Glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?” 

Nesta patted Bones’s head absentmindedly. “I’m healing still, but I’m better than I was a day ago,” she told him, before eyeing him with slight disgust. “Should I ask why you smell so wretchedly?” He didn’t really smell that bad- it was the opposite, in fact. Would she ever admit that his scent was intoxicating? Of course not. 

He rolled his eyes, that grin not leaving his lips, as he plopped himself onto the stool. “Pardon me for training for the last few hours- this body took 600 years of training and fighting to look this good. I’m not giving that up for anything.” 

“Prick,” she muttered, earning a low chuckle from him. “Do you ever not look at yourself?” 

“Only when I’m preoccupied with someone else,” he purred, sending her a roguish wink before glancing down at his lap. It took her a minute to realize that he was bashful- so unusual for the Commander.

Nesta arched an eyebrow. “Where’s Estelle?” She asked, changing the subject quickly. 

Hearing her name, the Illyrian poked her head into the doorway. “Right here, Nesta! I’ve been reading a few of the books on your bookshelves. You have some- er- interesting novels!”

Her face paled. Had she been reading those books? They were not the books she would recommend for a young, innocent girl, but she was 15, almost 16. 

Cassian chuckled. “Estelle had been rummaging through your things to see if there was anything she could read, and I guess she found the ‘don’t-let-Cassian-know-I’m-reading-smut books.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

The commander let out a roar of laughter. “I knew it!” He exclaimed once he caught his breath. “I knew you had a dirty little library!”

Nesta scowled at him, before kicking her sheets off of her. Someone had taken the mercy of changing her out of her probably ruined dress into a soft nightgown, thankfully modest enough that she didn’t feel too exposed in front of Cassian. 

Gently nudging Bones out of the way, she swung her legs off of the mattress, causing Cassian’s smile to suddenly disappear as he darted to her side. “You sure you’re feeling up for it?” He questioned, offering her a hand nevertheless. 

“Oh piss off,” she snapped, before standing shakily. Nesta didn’t feel quite as nauseous as before, and the world wasn’t spinning around her. Still, exhaustion had slowed her movements to a crawl, making her walk to the doorway rather pitiful. 

Estelle gulped audibly as Nesta beckoned for the book. “While I’m glad you’re keeping up with your reading, next time ask Feyre or Elain for a recommendation.” She snatched the book from her hands, sliding it carefully back into her bookcase. “I’m sure they’d be glad to help you.” 

“But, I didn’t want to leave you all by yourself!” She protested, crossing her arms. “And neither did Cassian, for that matter. So we both decided to stay here with you!” 

Estelle had probably the stupidest grin on her face, and when Nesta saw that Cassian too shared her smile, she let out a low groan. “Children- both of you.” 

Both Illyrians seemed rather displeased with the name calling, but they didn’t continue. Maybe they weren’t that childish after all. 

Nesta had made it to the sofa- one she never remembered having- before she plopped down, the velvety cushions soft on her bare legs. “So, what did I miss?” 

Estelle perched herself on another stool, her wings cocooning around her. “Not much, to be honest.” She gestured with her head to Cassian, his large build taking up almost the entirety of the door frame. “He’s been cooking dinner while also training me, and I’ve been making sure no one comes to disturb you!” She then sent a glare in Cassian’s direction. “Someone had been making that fairly difficult.” 

The commander raised his hands in mock defense, a grin on his lips. “Easy there soldier, no need to point fingers,” he chided playfully. “No one’s really came by here, anyways. I'm pretty sure the only ones who know you’re here would be Sasha and Azriel.” 

The room’s once lighthearted atmosphere had darkened slightly. She had forgotten all about the shadowsinger. The last time she had seen him, he had been bloodstained and dying. 

“How is he doing?” She asked, concerned for both Azriel’s well being as well as Cassian’s. The two Illyrians were practically brothers- more so than they were with Rhysand, in her own opinion. 

Cassian shrugged. “Not dead. He had been stabbed with ashwood- if Sasha and Aegan didn’t find him…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh. “He’s healing, albeit slowly. It’s going to take at least a month before he’s back on his feet.” 

Nesta’s lips quirked to the side. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest. “What happened to him? Besides the obvious.” 

“Sasha wouldn’t tell me- I don’t think she knows,” he told her, walking over to take a seat next to her. “He kept mentioning Hybern being in the mountains, which might be a likely cause.” 

“He was caught?” Unbelievable. The shadowsinger was probably the hardest individual to track down, more so to catch him. In fact, she was expected Aegan to be the one to get captured- nothing to downplay her own abilities, but this was Azriel. The knife in the dark. The Spymaster of the cauldron-damned Night Court. 

Cassian shrugged. “Probably.” He sounded as if he was trying to wrap his head around it just as she was. “But what Sasha said, about me needing to revise my strategy with Ironcrest…” He paused to scratch the stubble on his cheek. “She might be right.” 

“She is right,” Nesta countered softly. “I know you want to prevent conflict, but they have to be subdued somehow.” She reached to place a hand on his shoulder, but hesitated, instead placing it on the back of the sofa. “At least talk to Aegan about this- she’s bound to have information by now.” 

He pursed his lips. “Maybe,” he said after a period of silence. “I’ll need to find her first.” 

Estelle let out a loud sigh, her wings twitching in irritation. “Well, if you two are going to mope about our inevitable end, I’m going to get some pastries. Would you like anything?” 

“Lemon poppy seed muffins, please,” Cassian told her, grinning. “Make sure you get more than two this time.” 

She stuck out her tongue. “Whatever. Don’t blame me for your excessive eating.” Estelle turned to Nesta. “What about you?”

Nesta shrugged. “Surprise me.” She was never much of a sweet tooth- sure, she would occasionally have a pastry or some chocolate, but too much sugar would give her a headache. 

The young Illyrian grinned, and practically skipped out the door, her beating wings slowly softening as she flew away to the market. 

Cassian let out a chuckle. “That kid really cares about you, you know?” He told her. “She was a nervous wreck when you were out.” 

She smiled softly. “Estelle’s a good kid. She deserves a better life than whatever Ironcrest had planned.” 

He only nodded in agreement, the two slipping into a comfortable silence. 

The sun was starting to make its descent in the sky, the room glowing in a soft light. The bands of light had cast a golden glow over Cassian, many of his rough hewn features fading away. He looked younger, softer even. Maybe even a little sad, if she dared admit it. 

She glanced away before he noticed her staring. “Do you think Aegan will be okay?” She asked him, forcing her mind to focus on something else. 

“I might not know much about Aegan Malum, but I do know she’s a survivor.” He smiled reassuringly at her, before he glanced away, his smile dropping slightly. “I just worry she’ll go after Ironcrest on her own.” 

“But she won’t, right? She’ll have some backup from the inner circle,” Nesta countered, but Cassian’s grim expression sunk that hope. “Surely Rhysand will give her some aid.” 

The commander sighed. “Rhysand would agree to fight Hybern, not Ironcrest. I think he too wishes to prevent civil war.”

Nesta could only stare hopelessly at him, before retracting herself to the other part of the sofa. 

If the Inner Circle couldn’t help Aegan, then she was doomed. Nesta knew that even without an army behind her, her friend would stop at nothing to lay waste to the camp she had called home. 

However, if it ever came down to that, Nesta knew that she would be standing by her side. 

Even if it was the end of her.

TAGS:

@callie-bear15

@thisgryffindorlllyrian

@nestaarcheronwillkillme

@dreamworld-1997

@rairrai

@deezrmuhsheeple​

@my-fan-side

@homicidalbaker

[bittykimmy13]

An Extra Roommate - Traitor (GT)

At long last, this is the 12th installment of An Extra Roommate! :’) So sorry for taking forever on this!! This started out as a fun short-story exercise and turned into something more intense haha. Anyway, we’re in the final arc now!

(P.S. I used to have a taglist for this story but I feel weird using it now since it’s been so long. If you want to be on the taglist so you know when I update this story, lemme know lol)

(( Read from the beginning ))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Escape was right in front of her, yet she could not take it.

No matter how much Cassandra pretended that Vince had "fixed" her with his isolation methods, he was no idiot. It was going to take more than pretty words and forced smiles to make him believe that she was on his side. And now, she was out of time to convince him entirely. Whether she liked it or not, they were moving to a new location.

Vince had already moved most of their supplies over. Now she was the last of his possessions that needed to be taken there.

"I'm giving you one chance," he said to her in the darkness of what would soon be their former home. "You make one move to run off, and I'll drag you to the new place myself. You won't go outside again. This is your chance to show me that I can trust you."

Then, to her amazement, he unbound her arms from behind her back. It was for the sake of being practical, of course. Traversing through the vast outside world would be too dangerous for both of them if she slowed them down with her tied wrists.

She rubbed the thread marks and gave him a solemn nod. "I won't cause any problems," she whispered.

Whether or not that was a lie remained to be seen.

They did not exit through any of the dorms, destroying her chance of running off to find Lily or Zoe. Instead, Vince led her through a different tunnel—one that led directly outdoors. The opening was beneath a window sill, and they needed to free-hand climb down a few bricks to reach the ground. For stealth's sake, it was lucky some shrubbery was planted right in front of the window.

Cassandra waited until her feet were on solid dirt before she allowed the sensations of the outside to overwhelm her. It had been months since she'd breathed fresh air. It was bitingly cold and pierced her lungs, but she relished it. Tilting her head back, she looked up through the barren branches. A few brown leaves were still clinging there. Between them, she could see the glint of stars and a sliver of the moon.

For just a moment, she was warm on Lily's pillow, watching a show on the laptop about the cosmos.

"Stop daydreaming," Vince growled, grabbing her by the wrist and pushing her in front of him.

Does it count as daydreaming if it's not happening during the day? Cassandra bit the inside of her cheek. That was something Zoe would've quipped.

Vince made her walk in front of him to be sure that he could watch her every move. Each stride she took was both a blessing and a punishment. It was more movement and leg room than she had been granted in two months.

Before long, it was time to pull away from the safety of the dorm building and make their way to the shrubbery on the sidewalk to continue their journey. As Vince prodded her into a sprint among the crackling, icy grass, she couldn't help but glance back at the building. The exterior lights cast it all in an eerie glow. Considering she had spent most of her days indoors, the outside of the dormitory didn't exactly make wistful familiarity surge through her.

But knowing that Lily was somewhere inside, utterly unaware of what had befallen her borrower friend, was enough to make Cassandra's heart sink beneath the frozen earth.

"Turn around!" Vince grasped her shoulder and forced her to comply before she had a choice to.

As they caught their breath beneath a bush near the sidewalk, she threw a glare at him. "It wouldn't have killed you to let me have one last look at the place," she muttered.

His eyes narrowed. "Feeling bold now that I've given you some freedom, huh? Are you going to make me regret it?" His hand went to the rope attached to his side.

Cassandra clenched her jaw and turned on her heel to keep walking forward. "I'm sorry. Really. I just haven't been outside in so long. That's what got into me. I won't let it happen again." She tried to sound as plaintive as possible, as though she weren't fighting the urge to break into a sprint away from him.

They walked in silence for a minute or so, the sidewalk lamp posts making shadows dance over them.

"Prove to me you can handle being out, and you won't have to wait so long next time," he said in a softer voice. She truly believed he meant it—along with the implication that he would isolate her again when they were settled.

The journey would have been cut in half if they didn't have to hide. Rather than make their way straight across massive courtyards, they were forced to keep to the plants, fences, and benches for cover. There were no humans out and about other than a few security guards, but borrowers could never be too careful.

As classroom buildings came into view, so did the rooftop spire of the library. Cassandra's heart twisted again at the thought of Lily. She didn't know how late it was, but Lily sometimes took night shifts behind the check-out desk. For all Cassandra knew, Lily was right there. How many books had she read without Cassandra? Did Lily still think of her when she opened a novel? Or had the feeling of missing something already faded...

Far too soon, the massive building was out of view again. She and Vince were passing through an enclosed courtyard that looked familiar. Lily had brought her there once, when it was empty of humans one afternoon. It was filled with all kinds of plants and flowers, with a wooden canopy at the center that had vines wrapped around the supporting poles. Of course, all of that was dead during the winter.

The outer perimeter of the courtyard was lined with classroom doors. As Cassandra and Vince moved between a slightly raised wooden walkway and some thorny bushes, human voices could be heard, muffled by walls.

The two of them froze, and that was when Cassandra realized some of the outward-facing doors had lights pouring through their thin windows. There was one raised voice in particular—a professor dismissing class, by the sound of it. A second later, there was the sound of gigantic chairs scraping against the floor, followed by a stampede of human footsteps.

"Quick," Vince muttered, urging her toward the center of the nearest hedge. "Here! Stop here. Don't move a muscle. Shit... I knew we should've left later."

Cassandra dropped to a crouch beside him, peering through the leaves as one of the doors opened. Students filed out of the classroom, though she couldn't see above their knees with the bulk of the branches in her line of sight. The humans were conversing at various levels of excitement about the final exam they just finished taking.

As she shut her eyes and waited for the humans to clear out, Cassandra thought about Lily and Zoe furiously studying for midterms not long before Vince came for her. She wondered if the dormitory had once again turned into a battleground of textbooks and loose sheets of paper during finals, too.

"Really? I did not think it was so hard," one of the human girls said to another.

Cassandra went positively rigid and looked up. That voice... She knew that voice.

"The study guide had everything, yeah?" the same girl went on, a teasing note in her words. "Did you not look at it?"

Though Cassandra had only actually heard this voice a handful of times, that accent was unmistakable. She had spent most of her time in Lily's room, but that didn't stop her from being able to hear the other roommates' conversations when they were in the common area.

"Amelie," Cassandra breathed.

"What?" Vince whispered, tearing his eyes away from the pounding footsteps.

"Amelie," she said, so astonished that she couldn't stop herself. "She's from Germany. Lily told me that."

Amelie was walking away, among the last of the humans heading out as the lights in the classroom flicked off and the door was shut. Before Cassandra knew what she was doing, she staggered to her feet and started toward the edge of the shadows. Although she was weak from months of captivity, adrenaline gave her new life.

Naturally, Vince lunged for her before she could make it far.

"AMELIE!" Cassandra shrieked.

Hissing, Vince clamped a hand over her mouth and locked at arm around her shoulders. As he dragged her back into the darkness with fearsome determination, she was no match for a fight. Rather than struggle, she wrenched her head back and bit down hard between his finger and thumb. He started to yell, but swallowed the noise as a groan.

With one less arm holding her back, she whirled around and kneed him between the legs. He couldn't stop himself from crying out that time, and she didn't waste even a precious second standing there and feeling smug. She raced for the wooden walkway at the edge of the courtyard, ready to burst past the leaves. Much to her frantic glee, one human had stayed behind and was standing there with visible hesitation, while the others had already exited the courtyard.

"Hello?" It was Amelie.

"Down here! Look in the bushes!" Cassandra cried, her voice cracking. "Amelie!"

This human had never met her, didn't even know she existed. But that didn't matter. She lived with Lily. More than once, Lily and Zoe had ensured that their other roommates could be trusted.

Before Cassandra could duck past the vegetation and make herself visible, Vince grabbed her from behind and wrenched her back once more. In all her squirming, they both fell in a heap. Still, he refused to let go. As he pinned her down, he looked up and froze, his face paling with horror.

Cassandra could feel what had frightened him. The vibrations of human footsteps were approaching. She grinned up at him, knowing there was no way he could hope to outrun a curious human while dragging her along. The choice was his: let her go, or get captured.

He met her smile with a thoroughly disgusted look. Reaching up, he yanked a jagged thorn from the nearest branch.

"Hello?" Amelie said again.

"You want to be their pet?" Vince growled, leaning down closer to Cassandra's face. "You want to be their dress-up doll?"

The nearly-barren hedge began to rustle. Amelie's knees were on the ground, and the shadows of her arms and hands moved in and out of view as she poked through the branches mere feet away from the borrowers. It was only a matter of time.

"Fine," Vince whispered in Cassandra's ear.

He raised the thorn and swung the pointed end into Cassandra's side.

A guttural noise wracked through her. He tore the thorn back out, breathing hard as he stood up and looked down at her. They held each other's gazes for a few moments before he started back in the opposite direction of the rustling branches. At that moment, she couldn't be sure whether he was more pleased to hurt her, or more pleased to leave her behind as a distraction while he made his escape.

"You never deserved my help," he muttered over his shoulder. "I should've let them keep toying with you all along."

The cruel irony of it almost made her laugh through the pain. If only he had come to that conclusion before he ever dreamed of kidnapping her.

Her vision became spotty, and before she knew it, Vince was gone. She pressed her hand to her side, trying to staunch the blood flow. The wound wasn't big, but it had to be deep. It was staining her shirt rapidly.

A few dead leaves the length of her forearm fell over her as the bushes rustled directly above. She caught sight of a pair of light-green human eyes. They flashed out of sight for a second, then came right back and focused on her, peeking through the scraggly branches.

"Amelie," Cassandra breathed, but she could barely hear the sound of her own voice.

The eyes looked stricken with wonder. Eyebrows shot up. Amelie made a small noise of disbelief at her discovery. She flinched when Cassandra tried to sit up, but it was no use trying. The pain was too much.

The branches parted even further, thorns catching on Amelie's skin. She didn't seem to notice. Cassandra opened her mouth to say something else—anything. To tell Amelie that she wanted to see Lily so badly.

"You... are you real?" Amelie whispered. Then her eyes narrowed. "Are you okay?"

Her voice echoed distantly as Cassandra fell unconscious.

~~~

Amelie wasn't sure how long she sat there, staring with a dumb look on her face. The tiny girl—the living, breathing tiny girl—did not move again after she tried to sit up. Amelie lifted her head to look around, but all of her classmates and even the professor had already left. She was torn on whether that was a good or bad thing. On one hand, who knew what the wrong person would do to such a tiny girl; on the other, she had no idea what to do herself.

Swallowing hard, she reached with aching slowness into the bush. The ground had to be freezing for the poor little thing. As her hand came next to the girl, she had to pause and catch her breath from sheer surprise at just how small this person was. She was impossible. Amelie was unusually tall at this university, but never like this.

She gathered up the limp little body, slipping her fingertips beneath. Then she carefully deposited the girl onto her palm.

"Oh no..." As Amelie lifted her away from the branches, she saw dark red staining the girl's tiny clothes.

The girl was looking paler by the second. Amelie never took her eyes off her hands as she stood. Through it all, one thing kept poking at the back of her mind—she was sure she had heard the girl say her name. How could she possibly know who Amelie was? Whatever the answer, the girl could not give it to her while she was like this.

"Don't worry, little one," Amelie whispered, bringing her close to shield her from the cold. "I have someone who can help you."

[thinkingagain]

Trying to grasp the news, Muffin smiled at Ling Ling. “You’re a panda.” On the swinging Beast seat, he took his panda posture. “I’m one too.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book One: Conquest Chapter 35

With Jack and Ling Ling, Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest went to retrieve his companions who had gone off campus. The three moved around the pile of wrecked police Beast cars that clogged the entry drive and up towards the main Beast highway. They climbed the hill that headed off campus

The Sir could see, stretching away in both directions, groups of koalas and frogs and pandas. Some were confiscating abandoned Beast objects or talking with each other. Others remained on focused duty, looking out for any return of the Beast military.

“All of you got here so fast and so ready to face the situation,” the Sir said to Ling Ling.

“Mei Xiang made sure everyone understood how important your goals were, and we had word that the situation was reaching a crisis.” As she walked, Ling Ling’s head shook back and forth, as if she was talking to a number of animals at once. “We had to move very precisely to get through the Magic Animal Portal soon enough.”

“I have not heard of the Magic Animal Portal.”

“It’s the same one the Brain Trust uses. Other Magic Animals use it too when there’s need. It’s bumpy at first and hard on the stomach. A few times and you get used to it.”

“It has certainly proved helpful. Where is everyone, I wonder? Jack, have you seen any signs?”

“A few elephant tracks right here.” Jack was looking at the ground. “Stampeding Beasts can make any other trail hard to follow. I think this way though.” He angled towards the west and south.

After maneuvering through a thick grove of trees, the three of them found Love Frog and Henry, who had laid Scruffy in the grass and was watching him sleep. The elephant looked winded and concerned. He glanced up gladly when the others came over.

“Are you all okay?” the Sir asked.

Henry gave a small, anxious, mainly positive trumpet. Love Frog blinked agreement.

“For the moment,” the Sir said, “the Beasts are retreating. You probably saw a few of them go. We need everyone back on campus. Can you take Scruffy down the hill?”

Henry picked up the little rabbit gently.

“We have to get a few others,” the Sir said, “so you don’t need to rush. See you near the Alumni House.”

Henry and Love Frog started off down the hill.

Ling Ling said, “I really respect those two. They’re not big talkers though.”

“No. Some of us like to talk more than others.” The Sir looked closely at Ling Ling. “Mei Xiang herself is interesting that way.”

Ling Ling bobbed her head. “’Silk’ and ‘road’ are her two essential terms. She has a few others.  Silks stands in for positive things, and road for the negative. With two words she actually says everything she needs to say, especially when you consider her many inflections. Mei Xiang can say more with fewer words than any animal I know. I tend to be a big vocabulary panda myself, in multiple languages I might add. For all the good it has done me.”

“I’m sorry to know you’ve had difficulties.”

“I don’t like to bring them up.”

The Sir stared at her; she had brought them up immediately and repeatedly in the few minutes of their acquaintance.

They soon wandered into an area of a few Beastly abodes. All had been evacuated during the battle. “A good place maybe for Muffin to have brought the Beast,” the Sir said.

A few moments later they found Muffin sitting on a Beast seat attached on both sides with ropes to a high pole above it. He was swinging back and forth and helloed at them and waved a paw. The Beast was nearby, cowering behind a bench.

“All the armed Beasts frightened it,” Muffin explained when they’d reached him. “I’m trying to keep it calm, but I may just have to whack it and drag it along.” He looked at Ling Ling, realized he didn’t know her and introduced himself.

“Ling Ling came with the great Mei Xiang,” the Sir said, “who brought the Koala Teams and led us to a rout of the Beast military forces.”

“That was unexpected.” Trying to grasp the news, Muffin smiled at Ling Ling. “You’re a panda.” On the swinging Beast seat, he took his panda posture. “I’m one too.”

“I could take lessons from you,” Ling Ling said. “I’m not good at being a panda.”

Muffin considered her comment but didn’t reply. “I wondered what had happened.” He gestured in the direction of campus. “I was fighting off a lot of Beasts. It was tense for a bit there, I have to say, with the roar of gunfire blowing down the ridge. Then Beasts began running away.”

“The Koala Teams engaged the Beasts,” the Sir said, “without a single wasted gesture.”

“I’m glad that Mei Xiang let me be part of it.” Ling Ling flashed a smile that quickly vanished. “I’m always surprised when I don’t get kicked out right away. Not that I know it isn’t coming, sooner or later.”

“Ling Ling played a crucial role in coordinating everyone,” the Sir said.

“Did not,” Ling Ling said.

The Sir didn’t know how to respond. “Let’s get that Beast moving.”

Muffin sighed and jumped down from the swinging Beast chair. “Alright, Beast,” he yanked its rope, “come along with you.”

At first, the Beast resisted the rope’s pull and tried to stay behind the bench. Muffin smacked it on the nose a time or two and it began to move. “You have to let this Beast know who makes the decisions,” Muffin explained to Ling Ling. “Otherwise it tries to walk wherever it wants, which always leads to trouble. The trick is to keep moving confidently in the direction you want to go, not give it the idea that it has a choice.”

Ling Ling stared at the Beast fascinated, then sniffed at it. “Smelly. It’s a good thing it doesn’t make the decisions. I can tell already it’s the kind of Beast that would kick me out the instant it could.”

“Why would it do that?” the Sir asked.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Before the Sir could answer, she pulled ahead of all of them, her head moving as if talking to someone they couldn’t see.

“Everyone’s accounted for except the Madam and Busterella,” the Sir said to Muffin.

“I saw them when I was pushing on through to here.” Muffin peered around at the trees. “They never came this far. My guess is that they saw the police Beasts break and run and are maybe back at the Alumni House already.”

“I hope so.” The Sir looked at the sky. The sun was about to sit flat on the mountains on the western horizon. “It’ll be dark soon.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HERE'S WHAT I JUST REALIZED ABOUT PRESSURE

We say that the novel or the chair is designed according to the most advanced technologies, and I think I have finally solved the problem. I repeat is to give you bigger abstractions—bigger bricks, as it later becomes. It would be easy to fix. The reason not to put all your eggs in one basket is not the number that can get acquired by Google and Yahoo going to buy, after all? Anything you might discover has already been invented elsewhere. These can get a company airborne for $15,000. Which is of course a way to work faster. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to both their descendants.

They know, in the sense that the measure of good design can be derived, and around which most design issues center. One of the startups from the batch that just started, AirbedAndBreakfast, is in NYC right now meeting their users. You can't get it from the poor, not to be so cruel to one another.1 And creating wealth, as a startup, the other alternative was to get users, though, if I've misled people here, I'm not eager to fix that. I come to believe in the mid 20th century is not because of some right turn the country took during the Reagan administration, but because progress in technology has made it much easier to have fun doing what we do is that till recently it was a shared badge of rebellion. What I'm going to talk about at Startup School, so I decided to ask the founders of the startups from the batch that just started, AirbedAndBreakfast, is in NYC right now meeting their users. One of my first drawing teachers told me: if you're bored when you're drawing something, the drawing will look boring.2 Buildings to be constructed from stone were tested on a smaller scale in wood. I am more fulfilled in my work than pretty much any of my friends who did not start companies.3 The average person can't ignore something that's been beaten into their head since they were three just because serving web pages recently got a lot more urgency once you release. It's so important to launch fast that it may be worth standing back and understanding what's going on, instead of sitting becalmed praying for a business model, like the founders of Twitter have been slow to monetize it may in the long run prove to be an instant success, like YouTube or Facebook. They'll decide later if they fail.

Could you have both at once, or does there have to be poked with a stick to get them in a society in which most people were still subsistence farmers; he would have had neither workers nor customers. PG, Thanks for the intro! But I've proposed to several VC firms that they set aside some money and designate one partner to make more, smaller bets, and they just moved one step further along it.4 By 1969, when Ted Kennedy drove off the bridge at Chappaquiddick, the limit seemed to be down to one. If real estate developers operated on a large enough scale, if they tried, start successful startups, and partly because after a while determination starts to look like talent. Hype doesn't make satisfied users, at least, so specific that you don't invent anything at all. But ambition is human nature.5 What's so unnatural about working for a big company. The startups we've funded so far are pretty quick, but they weren't crazy.6

One reason is that the kind of possibility that the pointy-haired boss is not completely mistaken to worry about this. Once again, anyone currently in school might think this a strange question to ask.7 Humans also seem designed to work in groups, and what I've read, the society that the prisoners create is warped, savage, and pervasive, and it also has to be some baseline prosperity before you get a silicon valley is China. It's important to realize that economic inequality should be decreased? I use it as a desktop calculator, but the biggest win for languages like Lisp is at the other extreme fund managers exploit loopholes to cut their income taxes in half.8 Now the default exit strategy is to try lots of different things.9 Determination implies your willfulness is balanced by discipline.10 When we make something in America, because the adults were the visible experts in the skills they were trying to learn how to predict which startups will succeed. Startup School. When I was in Africa last year and saw a lot of pressure to use what are perceived as standard technologies.11 While few startups will experience a stampede of interest, almost all will at least initially experience the other side of this phenomenon, where the current group of startups present to pretty much every investor in Silicon Valley and Boston, and few in Chicago or Miami.

Why? Exactly. We do this with YC itself. You also have to be a job. A good example is the airline fare search program that ITA Software licenses to Orbitz. The big successes are so big they dwarf the rest.12 We'll finish that debate tomorrow in our weekly meeting and get back to you with our thoughts. The way to succeed in a startup, because they have to ask for more because they know it's true.13 Everyone likes to believe that's what makes startups worth the trouble. Where had these questions come from? There's no manipulation in that.14

Notes

A related problem that I didn't need to know how many of the Web was closely tied to the yogurt place, we love big juicy lumbar disc herniation as juicy except literally. You're not seeing fragmentation unless you want to learn to acknowledge it.

Not all big hits follow this pattern though.

Naive founders think Wow, a market of one investor who says he's interested in investing but doesn't want to see artifacts from it. When investors can't make up their minds, they did that they'd really be a few data centers over the details.

Particularly since many causes of the Italian word for success. Don't be evil, they are public and persist indefinitely, comments on e.

The solution was a great one. As Anthony Badger wrote, If it failed.

That I was living in cities.

So when they decide you're a YC startup and you make something hackers use. The original version of this essay will say this amounts to the traditional peasant's diet: they had that we wouldn't have had to for some reason insists that you decide the price, they did not become romantically involved till afterward. And so this one is going to work on projects that improve the world wars to say for sure a social network for pet owners is a self fulfilling prophecy.

Google Wave. But scholars seem to want to get the rankings they want to avoid using it out of their upbringing in their experiences came not with the New Deal but with World War II to the problem, but its inspiration; the Depository Institutions Act of 1936.

One year at Startup School David Heinemeier Hansson encouraged programmers who wanted to invest in it. If it failed. Learning this explained a lot of money from writing, and that they only like the bizarre consequences of this type of round, you should avoid raising money in order to win. If you extrapolate another 20 years.

Dealers try to be some things it's a harder problem than Hall realizes. Come From?

At this point. To consider behaving the opposite way as part of a cent per spam. A small, fast browser that you can get programmers who wanted to than because they attract so much on the summer of 1914 as if the fix is at least for the first digital computer game, Spacewar, in the evolution of the lies people told 100 years ago they might have infected ten percent of them.

It's not a programmer would never even think of a correct program.

The few people plot their own page. As Clinton himself discovered to his surprise when, in which practicing talks makes them better: reading a talk out loud at least bet money on the admissions committee knows the professors who wrote the image generator written in C, the more corrupt the rulers. Rice and beans are a lot heavier. 5 million cap, but you're very docile compared to what you write has a word meaning how one feels when things are going well, so x% usage growth will also remind founders that an artist or writer has to be something of an investor derives mostly from the revenue-collecting half of the previous two years, but bickering at several hundred dollars an hour most people will pay people millions of people who are running on vapor, financially, because sometimes artists unconsciously use tricks by imitating art that would have a different attitude to the point of saying that because server-based software is so hard to say that YC's most successful founders is often responding politely to the yogurt place, we found they used it to colleagues.

Where Do College English 28 1966-67, pp. 1886/87. Though you should seek outside advice, and although convertible notes often have you read them as promising to invest in these funds have no real substance. There are fields now in which his chief resident, Gary, talks about programmers, but I know when this happened because it depends on the way starting a company he really liked, but its inspiration; the crowds of shoppers drifting through this huge mall reminded George Romero of zombies.

Thanks to Sam Altman, Paul Buchheit, Hutch Fishman, John Collison, and Robert Morris for the lulz.

[rebootrevolution]

X-Men Novelization Ch. 59

Chapter Fifty-Nine

It all seemed to be happening so fast. One minute they were all laughing and grumbling around the TV as Bobby hogged the remote. He froze it in a block of ice in his hand so that nobody could remove it, but then Kitty had snatched it right through the ice and suddenly it wasn’t fair to use powers to hog the remote. Hank had just been about to step in and settle the dispute when the TV changed.

He had control of every satellite. Magneto had somehow focused every single one toward broadcasting his ultimatum: every nuclear world power had to disarm itself within 24 hours or he would bring every satellite down. If they did nothing in the 24 hours after that he would reverse the magnetic poles of Earth itself and rip the planet asunder. The Brotherhood would be untouched in their fortress in the sky and any mutant on the ground would be forced to use their powers to survive the wasteland.

And then Scott was barking orders and Charles was telling the kids that all would be well, that he would never let any harm come to them or their families. Kurt and Piotr both wanted to come along, but it was still another month until their shared 18th birthday and Charles would hear none of it. But Hank had no such excuse. He was an adult, a grown man who had to defend the life that he had, and this was the time to defend it.

All of it was a blur. Hank remembered it only distantly as he sat in the co-pilots seat of the Blackbird monitoring the readings and tinkering with the magnetometer he brought along. He tugged at the seams of his costume, so stifling to his overgrown fur. He wished he thought to trim up before going on a mission. He wished he actually trained as dedicatedly as all the students in all the months and years since they had the Danger Room. He wished--

“It’s going to be alright, Hank,” Scott said from the pilot’s seat. His smile was as friendly as it could be with the looming glow of his visor above it. Hank realized that he had been working at the same screw in the magnetometer for far too long.

“I’m just not predisposed toward physical confrontation,” Hank admitted. They were far enough from the others behind them, Logan, Jean, and Ororo, that they could speak in low tones without being heard. “I’m just the science-guy.”

Cyclops scoffed. “You’re a lot more than that. Not predisposed? Hank, you’re the whole reason we ever beat Juggernaut. You think I didn’t hear about that? About you yanking the last bolt of his helmet out with your bare teeth? Come on.”

There were certain advantages to being coated in fur, and chief among them were that nobody can see you blush. “I just wish I’d seen it all from the start,” Hank said. “If I could have known what Erik would become...how many people he would hurt…”

“None of us could have known. We had two of the best psychics on the planet and they didn’t know. The important thing is that we know now, and we’re finally going to stop him.”

Hank looked straightforward and the clouds rushing into the Blackbird. They kept rising higher and higher, knowing that they would be pushing the Blackbird to its limits in order to reach Asteroid M. As they drew closer Hank was able to pull up a radar image of the base and began inspecting it for the best place to attach the Blackbird. Scott could see that the machinery in front of Hank helped distract him.

“Try to get a read on how he holds that place aloft,” Scott said. “If it’s Magneto keeping it aloft I don’t want it tumbling down as soon as we take him out.”

“Hmm,” Hank started, fiddling with the problem, “It’s quite possible that he’s constructed electromagnetic generators which mimic his own abilities. With any luck they should maintain altitude even in the absence of Magneto’s influence.”

“See? That’s why it’s good to have the science guy around.”

Landing was harder than Hank had imagined. Asteroid M was a mishmash of buildings pulled straight from their foundations and massive chunks of rock and dirt that there was no surface flat enough to land on. Ultimately there was no easy solution. Scott’s plan was to keep the jet in autopilot through the duration of the mission and to summon it when we needed it, but without the Blackbird immediately on hand there would be no easy escapes.

“We’re not running away from this one anyways,” Scott said as the Blackbird’s back hatch opened up. It was just a small jump down to the rocky surface of Asteroid M, but Hank hesitated until he was the last to join.

“Come on, Hank!” Jean yelled up at him. A memory flashed through Hank’s mind of her as a young teenage girl, all knobbly-knees and awkward mumbling. Now she smiled up at him confidently, and as he jumped down to join the squad she lead the way toward an entrance.

They managed to find a line of escape pods attached to one side of the base. Wolverine managed to slash his way into one, but just before he slashed them through the other side into the base Jean stopped him, grasping at her temple. “There are two minds walking by. They’ll pass soon.”

“We need to play this quiet,” Cyclops said. “We’re outnumbered and outgunned. Surprise is one of the few advantages we have.”

When Jean gave the all clear Wolverine cut an opening into the base as neatly as they could. The X-Men piled around the open hangar and Beast suddenly felt exposed. He sniffed at the air and found that the closest Brotherhood members were down a stretch of hallway and in a kitchen area. Charles’ voice came alive in all of their heads, linking each of the X-Men up to eachother, and Beast relayed what he smelled to the others.

“We’ll start by incapacitating them then,” Cyclops said telepathically. “Then I want you to use that magnetometer to take us to the big bad himself, Hank.”

Hank nodded, taking up the rear as the others started down the hallway toward the two scents.  He found himself down on his knuckles, walking on all fours like a gorilla. If there were not so much adrenaline heightening his neural synapses it may have disturbed him, but in the moment he took whatever small comforts he could get. He felt more agile on all fours, faster, as if he could spring away at a moment’s notice if he needed.

The first two Brotherhood members that they came across were the one called Blob and a young woman with tanned skin. They were sitting in a commons area drinking beers and laughing when they noticed the X-Men’s appearance.

“Hey! How’d you get in here!” Blob yelled. He stood up from his seat, looking around his shoulders as if for backup, and said “Come on, Eunice! We gotta stop these guys!” before stampeding toward the X-Men.

A moment later he was clutching his throat, down on the floor, his face growing increasingly red before he lost consciousness. Jean held her hand outstretched, assuring everyone “Don’t worry, he’s still alive. I just closed his windpipe long enough to put him out.” Jean turned her gaze toward Eunice and arched an eyebrow. “You planning on raising any alarms, or do I need to put you out too?”

Eunice held her arms up in a gesture of submission. “Whoa, hey, I’m just along for the ride. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

Jean and the others seemed satisfied, but Hank lingered as they all turned to continue their progress through Asteroid M. Beast gave a strong sniff. The girl’s scent had vanished the moment she noticed the X-Men’s appearance, it lingered only in the parts of the room where she had walked. The girl considered him with curiosity, but did not seem as frightened at Hank’s appearance as others usually were. Without another word he joined the rest of the group.

“Hank, any sense if we’re heading the right way here?” Cyclops asked telepathically.

Hank looked at the magnetometer, then up at the hallways before them, then back at the machine. He pointed “I think I was right about the mechanism by which the base stays aloft. Its signal is interfering with Magneto’s own, but if we assume Magneto himself has the stronger signal then he will be this way. “

They continued on, their progress slow but steady. Every so often Jean would stop the others to make they crossed no paths. The further they got into the base the more nervous and cautious Storm grew. She was learning to manage her claustrophobia admirably, and she never would have admitted to it if Hank brought it up, the way her hooded head darted around her shoulders at every angle gave her anxiety away.

“Wait a second,” Jean broadcasted, stopping them. “There’s something...weird. I think it’s a mind...or...two minds? I can’t quite--

He recognized her at once. All those years ago it was her appearance that first unsettled Hank, that made him feel a revulsion he would only come, increasingly, to fear in others. Before he sprouted fur and fangs and claws and walked on all fours it was her, Mystique, who showed him how inhuman a mutant could look.

She paused in the middle of the hallway, processing the sudden appearance of five young mutants in her path. Wolverine was the first to spring into action, rushing forward with his claws outstretched, a growl rumbling from his chest. She was too fast, vaulting over him, her body line a boneless twisting acrobatic mass. She latched onto the ceiling and skittered along it, her joints popping out of place like some alien insect. It was Cyclops who acted next, trying to catch her with an optic beam, but he missed his one and only chance as Mystique tore away an air vent and compressed herself into it.

“Well,” Storm said with half a laugh, “we may have lost that element of surprise you were talking about.”

“Okay everybody circle up.” Cyclops started, “We’ll need to keep our progress slow, but the emphasis is on defense now. Who knows how many they’re about to throw at us or what all they can do. Our target is still Magneto.”

“Your target is still Magneto,” Wolverine said, the eyes of his mask narrowing as he bent his head forward to track a scent. “I’m no good in that fight, and I think it’s about time I tend to my own matters, Slim.” Wolverine turned and started to chase the smell. Beast caught a whiff of it himself, an undercurrent of wet dog but with an overwhelming sense of alpha male foreboding.

“Wolverine!” Cyclop called after the mutant. When Wolverine disappeared around a corner Cyclops cursed to himself. “This is why we have team exercises. This is why I try to get him to do team exercises.”

“No use fighting it now,” Jean said, pressing on forward. “Besides, if we’re real lucky Mystique just went to save her own tail. Maybe she didn’t raise any alarms at all.”

As if on cue, a red tint overtook the hallways as a claxxon sounded off. “Well, at least we don’t need Charles to relay all of our messages now,” Beast said aloud.

“Come on, let’s go!” Cyclops yelled, running forward as everyone else followed behind. They lost their advantage though. This was Magneto’s domain, and now that Magneto knew they were here the very surroundings themselves became the enemy. The floor started to contort out of shape, the tiles twisting so that Cyclops and Jean were sent forward on a wave of metal as Beast and Storm began to fall. The floor beneath them opened up, sealing over them after the fell through and popping back into place.

They were on a lower level, and they were not alone. On one side of them stood Pyro, now armored in a flame-retardant suit and armed with gauntlets that spit out flames, each spurt lighting up his maniacally smiling face. The gauntlets were connected by hoses to a fuel tank he wore on his back.

On the other side was Avalanche, and while he did not share Pyro’s mad smile he was even more heavily armored and wore an icy determination on his face. Both men prepared their attacks, and the X-Men prepared theirs.

“Mind if I take this one?” Storm asked, jutting her chin out at Avalanche. “We have something of a score to settle.”

“Oh, I’d be delighted to take the human flamethrower,” Beast joked. He wasted no time, sprinting at once toward his target. Pyro thrusted his arms forward, the flames coiling out and taking the shape of pouncing cougars that Beast just barely managed to jump over. Just as he landed, however, the cougars came pouncing back and Beast threw his arm up into his face, the flames crashing into one side of his body and searing off a layer of fur and skin. The acrid smell filled the air, and as Beast lowered his arm and turned to Pyro the grin melted from the pyromaniac’s face.

He unleashed the beast inside of himself and attacked.

[scriptstructure]

(1/3) Hello! Congratulations on joining the script fam! I have a show vs tell question. Specifically, I have a story which is best summarized as Inception meets Supernatural. In other words, there's complicated stuff with dreams-within-dreams AND monsters that exist unnoticed among us. Basically, there's a very complex world to be built, and the protagonist starts out being thrown into this mess completely clueless. She's the audience proxy for learning about this world. My problem is that...

(2/3) …I took a page out of Inception’s book and created a character whose primary purpose is to get the MC up to speed (in Inception, you might notice Arthur’s only purpose in the story is to explain what the hell���s going on to Ariadne). I’ve finished the first draft and gotten feedback from a couple people, and they all tell me that it’s too much “telling.” I don’t know how I can “show” how this world works, especially since the monsters are invisible, so it’s basically necessary that…

(3/3) …the monsters are described, instead of just shown. Final complication: it’s a stageplay, not a novel, which means I don’t get to narrate; everything has to be conveyed visually or by dialogue. Can you give me any advice for weaving in the necessary world-building info more naturally? Sorry if this is too general of a question, and if you’d like I could send you a copy of the script (it’s not long, ~20 pages manuscript format). But if not, I understand. Thanks for any help you can give!

First of all, I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this! I put it in my drafts and promptly forgot that I had drafts, so I’m not sure if this is going to be of any use to you at this point, but I hope someone finds it useful.

So there’s a lot going on in this ask, and a lot going on in this manuscript!

First of all, I’m going to direct you to read Elinor Fuchs’ “Visit to a small planet: Some Questions to Ask a Play” [Link to PDF HERE], which is one of my favourite texts about world building and is specifically about world building for the stage.

Now, I’m going to say, the play that you’ve described in this ask sounds incredibly complex and I’m not entirely sure that it would be practical to perform. And if you do manage to work out how to perform it, it may not go over well to the audience in terms of them being able to quickly grasp and understand the complexities of the narrative, setting, and elements you’ve got going on.

An important distinction between stage and screen (as you’ve mentioned both Supernatural and Inception as inspiration) is that on the stage you must be able to signal every element on the stage either through set and set dressing, or through the bodies of the actors, whereas on television or in film, you can show (through the wonders of technology) nearly anything you can imagine possibly happening.

I’m mentioning this specifically with regards to expressing the main elements of the story through physicality because while the dialogue of the characters is going to be important, of course, it’s not enough to carry the whole of the action. Yes, the audience can hear the words ‘invisible monsters’ and ‘dreams-within-dreams’, but how are they going to be shown in a tangible way that these things are impacting the ‘reality’ of the stage?

The issue of stageplays that rely to heavily on the audience learning all about the world through dialogue is that a lot of people miss a lot of dialogue. Have you ever gone to a play or a movie with someone and had them sit by you going ‘wait, what happened?’ every two minutes? There are a lot of people like that in audiences, just that most of them are more quiet about it, or work to figure out for themselves through context what just happened. Personally, I almost never know the names of characters in films I watch until the fourth or fifth viewing – unless it’s prominent on a name tag or displayed in some way. 

If all your audience has to rely on is spoken word, then a lot of them are going to miss a lot of what happens, and a lot of them are going to be bored. You hit a point, where you’ve missed a lot of what’s happening, and you disengage. You know this feeling, probably, from teachers who don’t explain things well, for example. An hour’s lecture goes by and you come out tired from struggling to pay attention and frustrated because you don’t know what you were supposed to learn from all that.

The other thing you’re going to have to deal with in creating a stage play, is actors. And funnily enough, in my experience, there’s nothing that most actors hate more than being the ‘exposition guy’. I know you say that Arthur was only in the film to tell Ariadne and, by extension, the audience what was happening, but he also acts as a know-it-all character, he’s an authority on the process that they’re using and the other characters in the team defer to his expertise. It’s a subtle distinction, perhaps, but I think that the interactions between Arthur and Eames particularly, gives more dimension to the character, he’s a technically-minded guy working in a realm of imagination, he lays out facts because those are what makes sense to him, whereas, for example, Eames, thinks more along the lines of possibility rather than limitation. But that’s a digression.

A lot of actors, looking at a script where they have to spout out a lot of expository dialogue without getting to do much will roll their eyes and pout. If they’re very polite, which in my personal experience, not a lot of them are, they won’t do it in front of you. I actually love that most actors I’ve worked with have been very outspoken about what does and doesn’t work for them in a script, after all, they’re the ones who are going to have to perform it!

Now, I’ll direct you to [THIS POST] about writing for the stage/ screen and script lengths. If your play is 20 pages, then it should be about 20 minutes long. All of what you’ve described is a lot to cram into twenty minutes. And in a stage play, cramming a lot of stuff in tends to make it more difficult and confusing to follow. When it’s a film, at least you can rewatch it several times, or rewind to stuff you missed, but with a stage play you get one shot to give the audience the clearest understanding of the story.

Something that a lot of beginning playwrights struggle with is cutting down the number of elements that they have in their works. Simplicity is one of the hardest things to master, but I believe it’s key to successful writing for the stage. I would suggest focusing on one of the big concepts that you’ve described. You could either do the dreams-within-dreams, OR the invisible monsters, but I think that having both of them in the same twenty minute play would probably be a little too much to handle.

So how do you naturally incorporate world building into a stage play?

Set design and structure can do a lot for a performance, and with technology and a lot of resources, you can do some incredible things, BUT, with amateur productions you’ll often have a bare stage and an assortment of chairs and tables to work with, so be creative with what you have

Be aware that you and the actors and director are working with bodies on the stage, the space on the stage, you’re working with sound, lighting, movement, etc. All of these things should be incorporated to assist in telling your story (though often it will be up to the director and technical teams to decide the final form that these elements will take)

Your character not only says that there are invisible monsters, they must also crawl by one as it sleeps, they must avoid a stampede, they must creep through a room full of distracted invisible monsters, they must be bitten by an invisible monster. The physicality of the actors is going to sell the conceit of the play, more than their dialogue is.

Most of your audience is not going to follow or process all of the dialogue. They will take in what they can and try to fill in the rest from context. Be sure to give them context. Long passages of exposition don’t really come across well on stage, because they take a lot of work to process and often are difficult to follow. Ensure that whatever the characters say is relevant, brief, and clear, and that it is supported contextually by the events and objects around them.

Now, I know that there are a lot of plays that are heavy on the dialogue, Waiting for Godot comes to mind, as do Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, and a lot of Chekhov’s plays. 

The thing is that these are plays where the action is boiled down to an extreme. The whole action of the play is that these people are stuck in this place, for whatever reason. Godot is never going to appear, and the whole narrative focus is fixated on the philosophical and social ramblings of the two characters. 

R&G are trapped in the interstitial reality between acts in a play, and the absurdity of their situation is illustrated by the flights of fantasy in their conversations. 

Chekhov’s whole school of writing focused on emulating the tedium of reality in meticulous detail. The characters spend a whole lot of time talking about going to Moscow and never getting there, and it starts to seem like Moscow is a metaphor for escapism, which this play won’t give you, because that’s not realistic. (The Three Sisters).

Even stuff that we sometimes think of as overly verbose, like Shakespeare, are structured in such a way that each segment of speech is punctuated by action. Sword fights and dancing and climbing and running. The form of Shakespeare’s dialogue is also significant in that the rhythm and pacing of it means that the focus can be more on the sound of it than the actual words, that the audience can follow along as the actors portray physically the contents of the poetic dialogue they speak.

There was a lot in your ask, and I hope this has been helpful, and I hope it’s not too late for your project, but please do send more specific asks if you need clarification on any point, or if you have clarifying questions. Thank you for your patience.

[c-foley]

Drabble: Excerpt From A Novel I’ll Never Write #1

What was meant to be Chloe’s first day of school was the day the world went to hell.

She’d spent years, YEARS, learning to control her ability and bloodlust, learning to keep her body in one form only for extended periods of time rather than allowing it to shift and blur as it pleased, learning to keep her movements smooth and natural, all so that she would finally be able to go out into the world and meet people. Her father Richard had done everything to try and dissuade her from the idea of going to school; he had been alive for over 500 years, he had multiple degrees, he could teach her anything she wanted. Chloe had had to patiently remind him again and again that it wasn’t about the learning, it was about the people.

Humans.

Chloe had read about them, had watched them from afar, but had never managed to get close to any of them let alone speak to them. There was something about them that was so fascinating; they were so physically weak and limited, and yet their minds…they were so full of creativity and ingenuity, shaping the world around them so they could thrive. The books they read, the music and art they created, the technology they made, Chloe had absorbed it all throughout the early years of her life. At first, she had been content with her books, and music and recently, the internet, but now it wasn’t enough. Now she wanted the real deal, wanted to go into the world of humans and talk to them and listen to them and get to know them. She loved her father, but all her life it had been him and her, and the occasional relative that came by to visit, and she was lonely and hungry for contact.

She’d argued and debated and had multiple “adult” conversations with Richard, hashing out the pros and cons of her going to high school, all of which boiled down to:

-          PRO: she would get to make new friends.

-          CON: she might reveal herself to the humans which would lead to either (a) them hurting/killing her, or (b) her hurting/killing/eating them.

Chloe hadn’t let up with her arguments, and eventually her father had agreed that she could go to school once she had been fully trained. This had led to four years of Chloe pushing her abilities and body to their limits in an attempt to be able to look as human as possible, and when she could keep her shape stable, going on mini-excursions with him to be around humans so she could learn to rein in her bloodlust in the face of their scent. There had been a few near-disasters, but for the most part, Chloe and her father were exceptionally proud of how developed her control was.

So now it was September. And Chloe was going to school.

She was in the kitchen, picking at her breakfast of deer heart and liver while her body shifted rapidly between forms from her excitement.

“Honey, if you can’t control yourself here, how are you going to control yourself once you get into school?” Richard asked, looking over the morning paper.

Chloe quickly swallowed a chunk of meat and then pulled herself together and kept her form in its human one. She smiled apologetically, and gave herself a once over to make sure she was completely stable, immediately zoning in on her right leg which would not stop jiggling. She frowned down at the tendrils of black mist that were seeping from it, blurring its edges. Immediately they retracted and her leg was stable again. Her father smiled approvingly and Chloe sighed in relief and then tried to focus on watching the TV to distract herself. There was some generic morning chat show on, and the host was talking to three teenage girls. Chloe was about to change the channel when she suddenly noticed the headline at the bottom of the screen:

EXTRAORDINARY LIVES: WE’RE SHAPESHIFTERS, AND WE’RE PROUD OF OUR ABILITIES!

Chloe scrambled for the remote control, turning the volume up once she had it.

“So the three of you are shapeshifters?” the host of the show asked, smiling his patented generic smile.

“It’s like, a bit more complicated than that,” one of them said coyly, “but essentially yes that’s what we are.”

“Okay, and what can you change in to?”

“Anything,” another piped up excitedly. “Actually our bodies shift naturally when left to themselves; we have to work pretty hard to stay in one form for a long time.”

“And that’s what you’re doing now?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I have to say girls, but I’m finding this a little farfetched; would you mind giving us a demonstration?”

“Sure!”

Chloe’s jaw dropped as the bodies of three girls on the TV exploded outwards in a haze of black mist, and their bodies started going through their natural cycle of shifting between forms – human, animal, and anything in between. Forms that shouldn’t exist naturally. There was a shocked gasp and several screams from the audience, while the host of the show smiled triumphantly. Distantly, Chloe registered her father muttering something, but she was far too engrossed in what was happening on the TV; shifters, revealing themselves to the world without a care, and so far, no one was trying to kill them! And they hadn’t killed anyone either!

“That’s amazing girls,” the host said.

“Thanks.”

“So can I ask why you’ve decided to go public with your ability?”

“We want to be famous,” the third shifter told him. “Like, make a reality TV show about our lives or something.”

“Well I think that sounds like a definitely possibility.” The host chuckled, but quickly went silent when he registered that one of the girls was sidling around the back of his chair, her hands caressing his neck. “Umm…”

“Brianna, what the hell are you doing?” one of the other girls hissed from the couch.

“I can’t help it Sarah,” Brianna said pitifully, her hands, now claws, starting to dig into the hosts neck. “He smells so good…” Long nails extended from her claws and pierced the host’s neck; he let out a chocked off gasp and a cry of pain as blood ran from the puncture marks.

“You said you had it under control!” Sarah yelled, standing up and striding over to Brianna to pull her off the host.

“I’m sorry!” Brianna wailed, as she was dragged backwards.

She hadn’t managed to pull her claws out fully, and as she was dragged backwards they ripped open the skin of the hosts neck. Blood gushed out and Sarah stumbled backwards, throwing an arm over her mouth and nose. Now free, Brianna leapt onto the host, her mouth descending onto his neck, clamping down ferociously on the wounds to bite and tear at his skin and muscles. The host screamed and flailed, trying to shove her off him, but his attempts were useless.

The studio was in chaos; people were screaming and trying to exit the room in a stampede. Several people tripped and fell and were trampled on, blood leaking out onto the floor from where they had been kicked and stepped on. Brianna was working her way through the now-dead host’s neck, Sarah was curled up on the floor, rocking and sobbing, and the third shifter had descended onto the audience, biting and tearing into any body that she got her claws on. The carnage continued on-screen for a few moments more before it went blank, the scene in the studio replaced with a sign saying ‘We’re sorry, we are currently experiencing technical difficulties.’

Chloe gaped soundlessly at the TV, her heart pounding and body shifting rapidly from one form to another, any semblance of control she’d had gone.

Richard sighed, folded up his newspaper slowly and then stood up. “Shit,” he hissed, slamming the paper down on the table, causing Chloe to jump in alarm.

“I’m sorry honey, but you won’t be going to school today.”

“Why? No one’s going to know that I’m a shifter; I won’t act like them I swear! You know I have control!” Chloe protested.

“It’s nothing to do with your control,” her father replied, scrubbing a hand wearily over his face. “Now that those idiotic girls have revealed us to the world, people will start hunting us.”

“But no one knows what we are; we’ve always stayed hidden.”

“There are people out there, people from your mother and I’s past, that know of us. The only reason they haven’t come looking is because they’ve not needed to. But now…We have to leave. Go to your room and pack a suitcase – essentials only.”

“What? What do you mean we have to leave?”

“We need to leave Ohio.”

“For how long?”

“Until it’s safe. Which may be never, I don’t know. Go get your things now, we’re leaving in ten minutes whether you’re packed or not.”

Chloe stared at him wide-eyed, barely recognising the wild-eyed man in front of her who had taken the place of her even-tempered and gentle father. He stared back at her pleadingly, and Chloe all but sprinted out of the kitchen and up to her room. There was some brief agonising over which books to bring, but before she knew it Chloe was bundled into the passenger seat of her father’s car and they were speeding down the road. Richard’s legs were shifting so wildly Chloe was surprised he could work the pedals, and she struggled to gather her thoughts, to say something to him, try to figure out what was going on.

“Where are we going?” she eventually blurted.

Her father sighed and replied, “Somewhere I’d hoped you’d never have to know about.”

[valiavovatera1320]

Vladimir Mayakovsky – A Cloud in Trousers (English)

Prologue

Your thought, Fantasizing on a sodden brain, Like a bloated lackey on a greasy couch sprawling, — With my heart’s bloody tatters, I’ll mock it again. Until I’m contempt, I’ll be ruthless and galling.

There’s no grandfatherly fondness in me, There are no gray hairs in my soul! Shaking the world with my voice and grinning, I pass you by, — handsome, Twentytwoyearold.

Gentle souls! You play your love on the violin. The crude ones play it on the drums violently. But can you turn yourselves inside out, like me And become just two lips entirely?

Come and learn– You, decorous bureaucrats of angelic leagues! Step out of those cambric drawing-rooms

And you, who can leaf your lips Like a cook turns the pages of her recipe books.

If you wish– I’ll rage on raw meat like a vandal Or change into hues that the sunrise arouses, If you wish– I can be irreproachably gentle, Not a man — but a cloud in trousers.

I refuse to believe in Nice blossoming! I will glorify you regardless, — Men, crumpled like bed-sheets in hospitals, And women, battered like overused proverbs.

Part I

You think I’m delirious with malaria?

This happened. In Odessa, this happened.

“I’ll come at four,” promised Maria.

Eight… Nine… Ten.

Soon after, The evening, Frowning, And Decemberish,

Left the windows And vanished in dire darkness.

Behind me, I hear the neighing and laughter Of candelabras.

You wouldn’t recognize me if you knew me prior: A bulk of sinews Moaning, Fidgeting. What can such a clod desire? But a clod desires many things.

Because for oneself it doesn’t matter Whether you’re cast of copper Or whether the heart is cold metal. At night, you want to wrap your clamor In something feminine, Gentle.

And thus, Enormous, I hunch in the frame, And with my forehead, I melt the window glass. Will this love be tremendous or lame? Will it sustain or pass? A big one wouldn’t fit a body like this: It must be a little love, — a baby, sort of, It shies away when the cars honk and hiss, But adores the bells on the horse-tram. I come face to face With the rippling rain, Yet once more, And wait Splashed by the city surf’s thundering roar.

Running amok with a knife outside, The night caught up to him And stabbed him, Unseen.

The stroke of midnight Fell like a head from a guillotine.

The silver raindrops on the windowpane Were piling a grimace And yelling. It was as if the gargoyles of Notre Dame Started yelping.

Damn you! Haven’t you had enough yet? Cries will soon cut my throat all around.

I heard: Softly, Like a patient out of his bed, A nerve leapt Down. At first, He barely moved. Then, apprehensive And distinct, He started prancing. And now, he and another two, Darted about, step-dancing.

On the ground floor, the plaster was falling fast.

Nerves, Big ones Little ones,– Various! — Galloped madly Until, at last, Their legs wouldn’t carry them.

The night oozed through the room and sank. Stuck in slime, the eye couldn’t slither out of it. Suddenly the doors started to bang As if the hotel’s teeth were chattering.

You entered, Abrupt like “Take it!”, Mauling suede gloves, you tarried, And said: “You know,– I’m soon getting married.”

Get married then. It’s all right, I can handle it. You see — I’m calm, of course! Like the pulse Of a corpse.

Remember? You used to say: “Jack London, Money, Love and ardor,”– I saw one thing only: You were La Gioconda, Which had to be stolen!

And someone stole you.

Again in love, I shall start gambling, With fire illuminating the arch of my eyebrows. And why not? Sometimes, the homeless ramblers Will seek to find shelter in a burnt down house!

You’re mocking me? “You’ve fewer emeralds of madness than a beggar kopecks, there’s no disproving this!” But remember Pompeii came to end thus When somebody teased Vesuvius!

Hey! Gentlemen! You care for Sacrilege, Crime And war. But have you seen The frightening terror Of my face When It’s Perfectly calm?

And I feel- “I” Is too small to fit me. Someone inside me is getting smothered.

Hello! Who’s speaking? Mother? Mother! Your son has a wonderful sickness! Mother! His heart has been set alight! Tell Lydia and Olga, his sisters, That there’s simply no where to hide. Every word, Whether funny or crude, That he spews from his scorching mouth, Jumps like a naked prostitute From a burning brothel.

People sniff– Something’s burned down. They call the firemen. In glittering helmets, They carelessly start intruding. Hey, tell the firemen: No boots allowed! With a sizzling heart one has to be prudent. I’ll do it! I’ll pump my watery eyes into containers. Just let me push off my ribs and I’ll start. I’ll leap out! I’ll leap out! You can’t restrain me! They’ve collapsed. You can’t leap out of the heart!

From the cracks of the lips, A cindering kiss springs, Running away from the smoldering face.

Mother! I can’t sing. In the heart’s chapel, the choir was set ablaze!

The figurines of words and numbers From the skull, Like kids from a burning building, scurry. Thus fear, Reaching up to the sky, called And raised Lusitania’s fiery arms with worry.

A hundred-eyed blaze looked into the peace Of apartments, where the people perspired. With a final outcry, Will you moan, at least, To report to the centuries that I’m on fire?

Part II

Glorify me! The great ones are no match for me! Upon everything that’s been done I stamp the word “naught.”

As of now, I have no desire to read. Novels? So what!

This is how books are made, I used to think: — Along comes a poet, And opens his lips with ease. Inspired, the fool simply begins to sing — Oh please! It turns out: Before they can sing with elation, On their calloused feet they tramp for some time, While the brainless fishes of imagination Are splashing and wallowing in the heart’s slime. And while, hissing with rhymes, they boil All the loves and the nightingales in a broth-like liquid, The tongueless street merely squirms and coils — It has nothing to yell or even speak with.

In our pride, we work all day with goodwill And the city towers of Babel are again restored. But God Grinds These cites into empty fields, Stirring the word.

In silence, the street dragged on the ordeal. A scream stood erect on the gullet’s road. While fat taxies and cabs were bristling still, Wedged in the throat. As if from consumption, The trodden chest gasped for air.

The city, with gloom, blocked the road rather fast.

And when — Nevertheless! — The street coughed up the strain onto the square And pushed the portico off its throat, at last, It seemed as if, Accompanied by the choirs of an archangel’s chorus, Recently robbed, God would show us His heat!

But the street squatted down and yelled out coarsely: “Let’s go eat!”

The Krupps and the Krupplets gather around To paint menacing brows on the city, While in the gorge Corpses of words are scatted about,– Two live and thrive,– “Swine” And another one,– I believe “borsch”.

And poets, soaking in sobs and complaining, Run from the street, resentful and sour: “With those two words there’s no way to portray now A beautiful lady, Or love Or a dew-covered flower.”

And after the poets, Thousands of others stampeded: Students, Prostitutes, Salesmen.

Gentlemen, Stop! You are not the needy; So how dare you to beg them, gentlemen!

Covering yards with each stride, We are healthy and ardent! Don’t listen to them, but thrash them instead! Them, Who are stuck like a free add-on To each king-size bed!

Are we to ask them humbly: “Help us, please!” Imploring them for hymns And oratorios? We are the creators with the burning hymns To the hum of the mills and laboratories.

Why should I care about Faust? In a fairy display of the fireworks’ loot, He’s gliding with Mephistopheles on the parquet of galaxies! I know– A nail in my boot Is more frightening than Goethe’s fantasies!

I am The most golden-mouthed, With every word I am giving The body a name-day, And the soul a rebirth, I assure you: The minutest speck of the living Is worth more than all that I’ll ever do on this earth!

Listen! The present-day Zarathustra, Wet with sweat, Is dashing around you and preaching here. We, With faces crumpled like a bed spread, With lips sagging like a chandelier, We, The Leprous City detainees, Where, from filth and gold, lepers’ sores were raised, We are purer than the Venetian azure seas, Washed by the sunshine’s balmy rays.

I spit on the fact That Homer and Ovid didn’t create Soot-covered with pox, Men like us all, But at the same time, I know That the sun would fade If it looked at the golden fields of our souls.

Muscles are surer than prayers to us! We won’t pray for aid any more! We– Each one of us– Holds in his grasp The driving reins of the world!

This led to Golgotha in the auditoriums Of Petrograd, Moscow, Kiev, Odessa, And there wasn’t one of you Who wasn’t imploring thus: “Crucify him!” Teach him a lesson!” But to me,– People, Even those of you who were mean,– To me, you are dear and I love you with passion.

Haven’t you seen A dog licking the hand that it’s being thrashed by?

I am laughed at By the present-day tribe. They’ve made A scabrous joke out of me. But I can see crossing the mountains of time, Him, whom the others can’t see.

Where men’s sight falls short, Wearing the revolutions’ thorny crown, Leading at the head of the hungry horde, The year 1916 is coming around.

Among you, his precursor, Wherever there’s pain, I’ll be near. I have nailed myself to the cross there, On every single drop of a tear. There’s nothing left to pardon now! In souls that bred pity, I burnt out the fields. That is much harder than Taking a thousand thousands of Bastilles.

And when His advent announcing, Joyful and proud, You’ll step up to greet the savior– I will drag My soul outside, And trample it Until it spreads out! And give it to you, red in blood, as a flag.

Part III

Ah, how and wherefrom Did it come to this That the dirty fists of madness Against the luminous joy were raised in the air?

She came,– The thought of a madhouse And curtained my head with despair.

And As in the Dreadnought’s downfall With chocking spasms The men jumped into the hatch, before the ship died, The crazed Burlyuk crawled on, passing Through the screaming gaps of his eye. Almost bloodying his eyelids, He emerged on his knees, Stood up and walked And in the passionate mood, With tenderness, unexpected from one so obese, He simply said: “Good!”

It’s good when from scrutiny a yellow sweater Hides the soul! It’s good when On the gibbet, in the face of terror, You shout: “Drink Cocoa — Van Houten!”

This moment, Like a Bengal light, Crackling from the blast, I wouldn’t exchange for anything, Not for any money.

Clouded by cigar smoke, And stretching like a liquor glass, One could make out the drunken face of Severyanin.

How dare you call yourself a poet And gray, like a quail, twitter away your soul! When With brass knuckles This very moment You have to split the world’s skull!

You, With one thought alone in your head, “Am I dancing with style?” Look how happy I am Instead, I,– A pimp and a fraud all the while.

From all of you, Who soaked in love for plain fun, Who spilled Tears into centuries while you cried, I’ll walk away And place the monocle of the sun Into my gaping, wide-open eye.

I’ll wear colorful clothes, the most outlandish And roam the earth To please and scorch the public, And in front of me, On a metal leash, Napoleon will run like a little puppy.

Like a woman, quivering, the earth will lie down, Wanting to give in, she will slowly slump. Things will come alive And from all around, Their lips will lisp: “Yum-yum-yum-yum-yum!”

Suddenly, The clouds And other stuff in the air Stirred in some astonishing commotion, As if the workers in white, up there, Declared a strike, all bitter and emotional.

The savage thunder peeked out of the cloud, irate. Snorting from huge nostrils, it howled And for a moment, the face of the sky bent out of shape, Resembling the iron Bismarck’s scowl.

And someone, Entangled in the clouds’ maze, To the café, stretched out his hand now: Both, tender somehow, And with a womanly face, And at once, like a firing cannon.

You think That’s the sun above the attics Gently stretching to caress the cheeks of the café? No, advancing again to slaughter the radicals It’s General Galliffet!

Take your hands out of your pockets, wanderers – Pick up a bomb, a knife or a stone And if one happens to be armless, Let him come to fight with his forehead alone!

Go on, starving, Servile And abused ones, In this flea-swarming filth, do not rot!

Go on! We’ll turn Mondays and Tuesdays Into holidays, painting them with blood! Remind the earth whom it tried to debase! With your knives be rough! The earth Has grown fat like the mistress’ face, Whom Rothschild had over-loved!

May the flags flutter in the line of fire As they do on holidays, with a flare! Hey, street-lamps, raise the traders up higher, Let their carcasses hang in the air.

I cursed, Stabbed And hit in the face, Crawled after somebody, Biting into their ribs.

In the sky, red like La Marseillaise, The sunset gasped with its shuddering lips.

It’s insanity!

Not a thing will remain from the war.

The night will come, Bite into you And swallow you stale.

Look– Is the sky playing Judas once more, With a handful of stars that were soaked in betrayal?

The night, Like Mamai, feasted with delight, Crushing the city with its bottom’s heft. Our eyes won’t be able break through this night, As black as Azef!

Slumped in the corner of the saloon, I sit, Spilling wine on my soul and the floor, And I see: In the corner, round eyes are lit And with them, Madonna bites the heart’s core.

Why bestow such radiance on this drunken mass? What do they have to offer? You see – once again, They prefer Barabbas Over the Man of Golgotha?

Maybe, deliberately, In the human mash, not once Do I wear a fresh-looking face. I am, Perhaps, The handsomest of your sons In the whole human race.

Give them, The ones molded with delight, A quick death already, So that their children may grow up right; Boys — into fathers Girls — into pregnant ladies.

Like the wise men, let the new born babes Grow gray with insight and thought And they’ll come To baptize the infants with names Of the poems I wrote.

I praise the machine and the industrial Britain. In some ordinary, common gospel, It may perhaps, be written That I’m the thirteenth apostle.

And when my voice rumbles bawdily, Every evening, For hours and hours, awaiting my call, Jesus, Himself, may be sniffling The forget-me-nots of my soul.

Part IV

Maria! Maria! Let me in, Maria! Don’t leave me out on the street! You can’t? My cheeks cave in, But you wait ruthlessly. Soon, sampled by everyone, Stale and pallid, I’ll come out And mumble toothlessly That today I’m “Remarkably candid.”

Maria, You see– My shoulders are drooping again.

In the streets, the men Prick the fat in their four-story craws. They show their eyes, Worn out in the forty years of despair, and restless- They snicker because In my teeth, Again, I hold the hardened crust of last night’s caresses.

The rain wept over the sidewalks, — That puddle-imprisoned fraudster. The corpse of the street, clobbered by cobbles, soaked in its cries. But the gray lashes– Yes! — The eyelashes of icicles became frosted With tears from the eyes– Yes! — From the drainpipes’ overcast eyes.

Every pedestrian was licked by the rain’s snout: Athletes glistened in the carriages on the street. People burst Overstuffed, And their fat oozed out. Like a muddy river, it streamed on the ground, Together with juices from A cud of old meat.

Maria! How can I fit a tender word into bulging ears? A bird Sings for alms With a hungry voice Rather well, But I am a man, Maria, Coughed up by the ailing night into Presnya’s filthy palms.

Maria, do you want me? Maria, take me in, please. With shivering fingers I’ll squeeze the iron throat of the bell!

Maria!

The pastures of streets turn wild and loud! They’re squeezing my neck and I’m almost collapsing.

Open!

I’m hurt!

Look – my eyes are pricked out By the common womanly hatpins!

You’ve opened the door.

My child! Oh, don’t be alarmed! You see these women, Hanging on my neck like mountains, — Through life, I drag with me A million of massive, enormous, pure loves And a million millions of filthy, disgusting lovelets. Don’t be afraid If betraying the vow Of honesty, Seeing a thousand pretty faces, I’ll throw myself at them, — “Those, who love Mayakovsky!”- Please, understand that that is the dynasty Of the queens, who have mounted the heart of a madman.

Maria, closer!

Whether naked and shameless, Or shivering in dismay, Yield the wonder of your lips, so gentle: My heart and I have never lived until May, But in my past, A hundreds of Aprils assembled.

Maria! A poet sings praises to Tiana all day, But I– I’m made of flesh, I’m a man, — I ask for your body, Like the Christians pray: “Give us this day Our daily bread.”

Maria, give it to me!

Maria! I fear to forget your name As a poet fears to forget under pressure A word He conceived in a restless night, Equal to God in effect.

Your body I shall continue to love and treasure As a soldier Amputated by war, Alone And unwanted, Cherishes his remaining leg.

Maria, — You won’t have me? You won’t!

Ha!

Then gloomy and dismal, Once more, I shall carry My tear-stained heart Forward, Like a dog, Limping, Carries the paw That the speeding train had ran over.

With the blood from the heart I cheer the road that I roam, Flowers cling to my jacket, making it dusty, The sun will dance a thousand times round the earth, Like Salome Danced around the head of the Baptist.

And when my years, at their very end, Will finish their dance and wrinkle, A million bloodstains will spread The path to my Father’s kingdom.

I’ll climb out Filthy (sleeping in gullies all night), And into his ears, I’ll whisper While I stand At his side:

“Mister God, listen! Isn’t it tedious To dip your generous eyes into clouds Every day, every evening? Let’s, instead, Start a festive merry-go-round On the tree of knowledge of good and evil! Omnipresent, you’ll be all around us! From the wine, all the fun will ensue And Apostle Peter, who’s always been frowning, Will perform the fast-paced dance — ki-ka-pu. We’ll bring all the Eves back into Eden: Order me And I’ll go– From the boulevards, I’ll pick up all the pretty girls needed And bring them to you!

Should I?

No?

You’re shaking your curly head coarsely? You’re knitting your brows like you’re rough? Do you think That this Winged one, close by, Knows the meaning of love?

I too am an angel; used to be one before– With a sugar lamb’s eye, I stared at your faces, But I don’t want to give presents to mares anymore, — All the torture of Sevres that’s been made into vases. Almighty, You created two hands, And with care, Made a head, and went down the list, — But why did you make it So that it pained When one had to kiss, kiss, kiss?!

I thought that you were the Great God, Almighty But you’re a miniature idol, — a dunce in a suit, Bending over, I’m already reaching For the knife that I’m hiding At the top of my boot.

You, swindlers with wings, Huddle in fright! Ruffle your shuddering feathers, rascals! You, reeking of incense, I’ll open you wide, From here all the way to Alaska.

Let me go!

You can’t stop me! Whether I’m right or wrong Makes no difference, I will not be calmer. Look, — The stars were beheaded all night long And the sky is again bloody with slaughter.

Hey you, Heaven! Take your hat off, When you see me near!

Silence.

The universe sleeps. Placing its paw Under the black, star-infested ear.

[1914]

[compare-wp10]

COVID-19 Live Updates: Breaking news on coronavirus in Calgary | Calgary Herald

Article content With news on COVID-19 happening rapidly, we’ve created this page to bring you our latest stories and information on cancellations in and around Calgary. What’s happening now There are 23 new confirmed cases of COVID-19 in Alberta, chief medical officer Dr. Deena Hinshaw announced. She also announced that Alberta Health Services was postponing elective and non-urgent surgeries. The Stampede has announced it will temporarily lay off 80 per cent of its staff. The July event has not been called off at this point. The province’s post-secondary institutions are postponing convocation ceremonies. National parks have closed; the town of Banff has declared a state of local emergency. Alberta declared a state of public health emergency. Gatherings of more than 50 people are to be cancelled; restaurants and pubs are limited to 50 people, or half of licensed capacity, whichever is lower. Hinshaw has tested negative for COVID-19. She previously self-isolated due to symptoms. Prime Minister Trudeau announces emergency loans for Canadians abroad who are trying to get back home. The city ordered all Calgarians returning from abroad to self-isolate for 14 days. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau announced that Canada will close its borders to people who aren’t citizens or permanent residents of Canada on Monday, with some exceptions including U.S. citizens. International flights (except those coming from U.S. and Mexico) will be restricted starting Wednesday to four airports in Canada, including Calgary. Canada chief public health officer Dr. Theresa Tam advises against gatherings of 50 or more people. The City of Calgary has declared a state of local emergency. CEMA Chief Tom Sampson says all city-owned fitness facilities, pools, arenas and public libraries will close. Latest cancellations Casinos, bars, nightclubs, and other public gathering spaces are now closed; restaurants are allowed to operate at 50 per cent capacity or with less than 50 people, whichever is lower. The Teatro Group of restaurants are temporarily closing. Filming on the set of Wynonna Earp has been halted. Most ski hills in the Rockies have now closed due to COVID-19. WestJet announced it will suspend international and transborder flights for 30 days starting at the end of the day on March 22. Its domestic schedule will also be reduced by about 50 per cent. The airline also said it will be operating rescue and repatriation flights in partnership with the Canadian government. The National Music Centre is closed to the public until further notice. GYMVMT, formerly known as World Health, is temporarily closing all their locations. Cineplex and Landmark Cinemas are temporarily closing their theatres. National parks visitor spaces will close by March 19. The University of Calgary’s Bermuda Shorts Day is cancelled. Check our ongoing list of event postponements or cancellations for more details. 9:02 p.m. University of Calgary’s Bermuda Shorts Day cancelled The school's Students' Union says in a statement emailed to students: "We know that avoiding large gatherings is the best way to prevent the spread of #COVID19 and protect one another." #yyc — Jason Herring (@jasonfherring) March 18, 2020 8:47 p.m. Calgary breweries that offer delivery Here’s how you can get local beer delivered to you while you self-isolate. PSA: With the recent news, we've decided to compile a list of the Breweries and Cideries that offer delivery to your home! The count is currently 18, with more to be added. Please retweet to help your friends get beer while flattening the curve!https://t.co/yaN7NnoMMB — YYCBeer.ca   |   Calgary's Beer Map and Info Site. (@yycbeerca) March 18, 2020 8:29 p.m. School support workers face uncertainty over pay during prolonged closures With Alberta K-12 schools facing possible closure into the summer months, support workers are raising questions as to whether they will continue to get paid or whether they will face layoffs and limited amounts of employment insurance. Union representatives for support staff at both the Calgary Board of Education and the Calgary Catholic School District are confident their members will receive pay over the next few weeks, whether they are in schools, working from home, self-isolating or taking care of sick family members. But while teachers are fully covered to be paid continuously under their collective agreement, support workers have not yet received any information as to whether they will get paid beyond spring break in public schools or Easter vacation at separate schools. Read more. 8:20 p.m. CNN reports the U.S. and Canada are expected to suspend non-essential travel between the two countries in the next 24-48 hours The agreement is not yet finalized and officials are still working to define "non-essential travel.” Part of the discussions involve what types of vehicles & individuals would still be allowed to travel between the two borders and for what purpose. Agreement not yet finalized 2/2 — Jeremy Diamond (@JDiamond1) March 18, 2020 Read more at cnn.com. 8:11 p.m. Post-secondary institutions postpone convocation ceremonies NEWS: From NAIT’s statement, “NAIT has decided to postpone convocation ceremonies planned for this spring. This is a decision that was made by all 26 post-secondary institutions in Alberta.” #yeg #abhealth #COVID19 #abpse https://t.co/sC50t8g7Yx — Anna Junker (@JunkerAnna) March 18, 2020 8:03 p.m. City orders travellers returning to Calgary from abroad to self-isolate for 14 days to contain COVID-19 The Calgary Emergency Management Agency ordered Tuesday that anyone coming to Calgary from outside Canada must isolate themselves at home for two weeks to prevent potential spread of COVID-19. The order, issued by CEMA Chief Tom Sampson under the city’s current state of local emergency, applies to anyone coming to Calgary by any type of transportation after March 17. While there isn’t yet monitoring or enforcement involved with the move, Mayor Naheed Nenshi said Calgarians need to take it seriously. Read more. 7:24 p.m. Stampede to temporarily lay off 80 per cent of staff “As a not-for-profit organization, we unfortunately have to take these temporary measures of dramatic layoffs. We’re looking to support the long-term sustainment of the organization, its role in the community and the jobs that we provide and certainly we did not take these decisions lightly today,” Stampede CEO Warren Connell told Postmedia. “These decisions were about looking towards the future and the sustainability of the Stampede.” A total of 890 people were laid off, including 608 casual, part-time employees and 282 regular, part-time and regular, full-time staff. Will there be a 2020 Stampede? “It’s far too early to speculate on whether the Stampede will happen this year,” Connell said. “We have not called Stampede.” But he said the organization is planning for “contingencies": https://t.co/VXOaQOMt4N#COVID19 #COVIDAlberta — Sammy Hudes (@SammyHudes) March 18, 2020 Read more. 7:16 p.m. Leftovers foundation picks up 950 lbs of food from closed restaurants, sees the heartbreak of small business owners These conversations were emotional and heartbreaking. Restaurant owners across #yyc who’ve spent years working hard to build their businesses are facing situations they never could have imagined or planned for. They don’t know when their doors will re-open…if ever. — Lourdes Juan (@lourdesmjuan) March 18, 2020 Our stops today included @10foothenry, a lovely resto that consistently tops best of lists. They made the difficult decision to temporarily close today. They donated nearly 100 pounds of food. Here’s what that looks like. pic.twitter.com/g5ZgOmjiZJ — Lourdes Juan (@lourdesmjuan) March 18, 2020 At both @LeftOversYYC + @FreshRoutes, we’re seeing that access to food has never been more difficult for so many Calgarians. Whether you’re a child who relies on a school nutrition program for breakfast, a millennial who just lost your job, or a senior who can’t leave your home. — Lourdes Juan (@lourdesmjuan) March 18, 2020 Biz owners are being forced to figure out how they will put food on their table + pay their employees while their doors are closed. Non-profits are dealing with insane demands. We’re all in this together, #yyc, and we need to remember that everyone is doing the best they can. — Lourdes Juan (@lourdesmjuan) March 18, 2020 I’ll be back at it tomorrow, with my team, gathering food from Calgary businesses choosing to temporarily close. We have 18 stops on our list, so far. Take a second to think about that. — Lourdes Juan (@lourdesmjuan) March 18, 2020 That’s 18 Calgary business owners dealing with some of the hardest decisions they've ever made. And dozens/hundreds of staff they are worried about. I hope we will come out of this stronger. — Lourdes Juan (@lourdesmjuan) March 18, 2020 7:05 p.m. WestJet releases information on flights with passengers who tested positive for COVID-19 The list of flights include WS2311, a flight from Cancun to Calgary on March 12. The safety of our guests and crews is our top priority. @GovCanHealth has advised us of six additional flights with guests who have tested positive for COVID-19. See below the newly impacted flights and view all impacted flights here - https://t.co/IET6VECA9o pic.twitter.com/bIK18Qpm1w — WestJet (@WestJet) March 18, 2020 You can read a complete list of affected flights at alberta.ca. 6:27 p.m. A look around the city while Calgarians self-isolate Postmedia photographers were out and about capturing images of Calgary as libraries, stores, restaurants and bars begin to close down. 6:25 p.m. Calgarians are stocking up on pot Calgarians faced with more time at home and feeling supply anxiety are stocking up on pot, say some city cannabis retailers. It’s not on the scale of the frantic run on bathroom tissue, they say, but the ongoing fear of the novel coronavirus is driving business. “We seen an upturn, we’ve seen some stocking up, but it’s nothing like toilet paper,” said Mona Pinette, a staffer at the Spiritleaf outlet at 6008 Macleod Tr. S. Read more. 6:19 p.m. COVID-19 could alter Canadian retail landscape forever, analysts say For Calgary’s malls and shopping centres, COVID-19 is an existential threat that has the potential to change the retail landscape forever, analysts say. While malls in the Calgary area remain open for now, most — including CF Market Mall, CF Chinook Centre, Southcentre Mall and CrossIron Mills — are operating with shortened daily shopping hours. Cadillac Fairview, which owns Market Mall and Chinook Centre, announced Tuesday it is shifting its food court operations to takeout only and eliminating seating until further notice to reduce the spread of the virus. Read more. 6:12 p.m. Alberta government defends budget during curtailed debate amid COVID-19 Declaring a state of public health emergency Tuesday afternoon closing bars and casinos, Premier Jason Kenney said taking over hotels was being considered a possibility in the long term. First, there will be “a range of measures” to help with the urgent need for cash for those businesses, he said. Additional stimulus should be close to one per cent of GDP, which could be in the range of $3 billion to $3.5 billion, but the crisis cannot necessarily be fixed with counter-cyclical spending, he said. Read more. 5:38 p.m. Banff fears the worst as visitor services suspended Banff tourism officials say they’re worried about long-term impacts of the COVID-19 outbreak as Prime Minister Justin Trudeau announced new restrictions for national parks on Tuesday. Starting Thursday, Parks Canada is suspending visitor services at all national parks, historic sites and national marine conservation areas across the country until further notice. “What this means for our parks is that pretty much anything with a door will be closed,” Trudeau told reporters during a morning news conference. Read more. New rules for Town of Banff effective immediately. This situation will continue to evolve daily. https://t.co/4GKpwDMiS0 — Mayor Karen Sorensen (@BanffMayor) March 17, 2020 5:27 p.m. Supreme Court postpones hearing on constitutionality of federal carbon tax The Supreme Court of Canada has postponed until at least June hearing a constitutional challenge of the federal government’s carbon tax. The top court was to have heard the challenge, launched by Saskatchewan and Ontario and supported by several other provinces, next week. But, as part of a country-wide effort to stem the spread of COVID-19, Chief Justice Richard Wagner says the court is putting off several hearings, including on the much anticipated carbon tax case. Read more. 4:55 p.m. Canadians engaged in judicial events are encouraged to check court websites Message from Supreme Court Chief Justice Richard Wagner: At the Canadian Judicial Council, we understand that the rapid developments surrounding COVID-19 is deeply concerning. Canada’s Chief Justices are actively working to limit the spread of the virus at their respective (1/3) — Kevin Martin (@KMartinCourts) March 17, 2020 courts in order to protect all citizens. Canadians can be assured that the justice system continues to function on their behalf and the rule of law prevails. That said, all courts are taking measures to adapt as required. Canadians who are engaged in judicial events, (2/3) — Kevin Martin (@KMartinCourts) March 17, 2020 are encouraged to consult their respective court website before attending any court matter. (3/3) — Kevin Martin (@KMartinCourts) March 17, 2020 4:55 p.m. Trucking companies keep supply lines moving during outbreak Alberta’s trucking companies are maintaining a business-as-usual attitude during the COVID-19 pandemic. “Drivers and the industry have taken a hit since the Humboldt bus crash, but we’re moving groceries and medical supplies and consider ourselves frontline workers, keeping shelves stocked and making sure people have the supplies they need,” said Gary Leddy, vice-president and general manager of Grimshaw Trucking. The company serves more than 300 communities across Western Canada, employing more than 300 drivers, mechanics, administrative and warehouse staff to maintain supplies. “We have drivers working a 6 a.m.-to-6 p.m. shift, then the next group comes on for a 6 p.m.-to-6 a.m. to ensure that supply lines keep moving,” said Leddy. “Things are changing hour by hour during the virus outbreak, and we’re keeping up with the demand and making sure that people are staying positive through this.” Read more. 4:40 p.m. 23 new cases in Alberta, AHS postpones elective and non-urgent surgeries Two major clusters of cases come from a home gathering Hinshaw said is linked to 10 cases and a dental conference in Vancouver that is linked to six cases. In total, there are 70 cases in the Alberta Health Services Calgary zone and 20 in the Edmonton zone, with the remaining cases split between the North, Central and South zones. That means 72 per cent of confirmed coronavirus cases come from the Calgary zone. Hinshaw said the imbalance may come from the fact that Calgary has more international returning travel than other zones. Read more. ***The province has corrected these stats. Here is the actual breakdown: -70 cases in the Calgary zone -20 cases in the Edmonton zone -3 cases in the Central zone -1 case in the South zone -3 cases in the North zone#COVIDAlberta #COVID19 https://t.co/JpfcpLOAOr — Sammy Hudes (@SammyHudes) March 17, 2020 Currently five cases are hospitalized, including two people admitted to ICU. Those numbers are identical to yesterday.#COVID19 #COVIDAlberta — Sammy Hudes (@SammyHudes) March 17, 2020 AHS will be rescheduling elective or non-urgent surgeries. Dr. Hinshaw this is a necessary step to sustain the health care system's pandemic response. #covid19 — Madeline Smith (@meksmith) March 17, 2020 If the pandemic eases up in the summer, it could surge back in the fall and more restrictions could be necessary again, Dr. Hinshaw says. #covid19 — Madeline Smith (@meksmith) March 17, 2020 4:36 p.m. Concern over transit drivers’ safety raised by union Transit operators are fearful of COVID-19 infection and are urging Calgary Transit to step up safety measures, said their union head. More needs to be done to disinfect public transit vehicles, particularly buses which are natural vector for the spread of the novel coronavirus, said Mike Mahar, president Amalgamated Transit Union Local 583. “Of course, they’re front-line workers exposed to more of the general pubic which puts them at a greater risk,” he said. “We want to do what we possibly can to limit exposure.” Read more. 4:25 p.m. COVID-19 phone scam AHS will never call & ask for credit card information. Please hang up immediately and report by calling the non-emergency line for local law enforcement. — Alberta Health Services (@AHS_media) March 17, 2020 4:20 p.m. Service Canada sets up separate phone line for those looking to claim EI benefits while in quarantine Service Canada is waiving the one-week waiting period for EI benefits and established a new toll free number for people in quarantine seeking EI benefits. The number is 1-833-381-2725. More info at canada.ca. 2:46 p.m. Hudson’s Bay temporarily closes all stores Stores will remain closed for two weeks, and reopening will be assessed at that time. We will continue to serve customers through https://t.co/Iq5VpBDFH1. During this closure, our store associates will be paid for all scheduled shifts that were planned for the two weeks. — Hudson's Bay (@hudsonsbay) March 17, 2020 Hudson’s Bay has four locations in Calgary: on Stephen Avenue, and in Chinook Centre, Market Mall, Southcentre Mall and Sunridge Mall. 2:34 p.m. Tax deadline extended until June 5 Canadians will have one extra month to file their taxes to the Canada Revenue Agency, the National Post has learned. The announcement will be made tomorrow by federal ministers as part of a larger series of financial measures to assist Canadian individuals and governments through the COVID-19 pandemic. So instead of an April 30 filing deadline for the 2020 tax season, Canadians will have until June 1 to submit their income tax return to CRA. The deadline to pay off any outstanding balances interest-free will also be extended, this time to July 31. Read more. 2:25 p.m. Dentists cancel non-emergency treatment and services All non-emergency dental treatment and services are now under a mandatory suspension, according to the provincial body that regulates dentists. Dentists may continue to provide emergency treatment, said a Tuesday release from the Alberta Dental Association and College. Read more. 2:15 p.m. Alberta cancels changes to doctors billing practices set to go into effect March 31 Changes to the complex modifier fee previously announced by the Alberta government following a review of Alberta Health Services have been CANCELLED, the government says.#ableg #COVID19 pic.twitter.com/5FhB4DXf4m — Sammy Hudes (@SammyHudes) March 17, 2020 "During these unprecedented times, we want to ensure physicians on the front lines can focus solely on providing patient care,” said Health Minister Tyler Shandro. The government is halting the changes so "doctors can concentrate on the critical tasks at hand.”#COVID19 #ableg — Sammy Hudes (@SammyHudes) March 17, 2020 The province has cancelled changes to doctors’ billing practices that were set to go into effect on March 31 amid the COVID-19 pandemic. In a news release, the government said general practitioners’ billing for a visit will remain at the 15-minute mark and the current rate of $18.48. Other modifiers will remain at the current rates and time requirements. Read more. 1:40 p.m. Premier Kenney declares state of public emergency Jason Kenney says the Alberta government is declaring a state of public health emergency. Gatherings of more than 50 people are to be cancelled. Casinos, bars, public recreation facilities, etc. to be closed. Weddings and funerals with more than 50 people should be cancelled. The provincial legislature, airports and grocery stores are exempt from limits. Restaurants and pubs are limited to 50 people, or half of licensed capacity, whichever is lower. "This is a serious moment in our history," Kenney says. Adds Alberta is ready for the test COVID-19 will pose. "We'll do whatever it takes to spread the slow of this virus." #covid19 #abpoli — Madeline Smith (@meksmith) March 17, 2020 Kenney brings up the idea of using hotels to quarantine people if necessary. He doesn't believe that's required at this time, but it's on the table under the province's authority in a state of emergency. — Madeline Smith (@meksmith) March 17, 2020 12:35 Calgary couple stranded by COVID-19 in Morocco Calgary seniors Pat Hobbs and her husband are among hundreds of Canadians stranded in that country and many others who are cut off from return flights by the abrupt halt to air traffic as governments close their borders to the threat of infection. Hobbs said they’ve banded together with other Canadians stranded in Marrakech, Morocco seeking a way out through attempted contacts with airlines and Global Affairs Canada, to no avail. Read more. 11:40 a.m. CBE students can expect online course delivery ‘after March Break’ The Superintendent of the Calgary Board of Education says online learning options are coming for students in the district. Continuity of learning will include online course delivery, but this is not the only option. We recognize the need to support learning opportunities for all of our students. We will communicate a detailed continuity plan after March Break. Thanks to staff and leaders. #WeAreCBE — Christopher Usih (@UsihChristopher) March 17, 2020 CBE’s March break was scheduled to run the week of March 23-27, until all classes were cancelled on March 15. Teachers continue to attend work and prepare lessons. 10:23 a.m. Dr. Deena Hinshaw tests negative for COVID-19 Alberta’s Chief Medical Officer of Health, Dr. Deena Hinshaw, does not have the COVID-19 virus. Hinshaw, who has been the face of Alberta’s medical response in daily updates to the province announced she was self isolating due to cold-like symptoms. Another personal update. The results of my test have come back negative for COVID-19. This morning, I returned to work in person after self-isolating. I would like to thank all those who reached out and sent me your well wishes. #COVID19AB (1/3) — Dr. Deena Hinshaw (@CMOH_Alberta) March 17, 2020 10:15 a.m. Filming on Alberta set of Wynonna Earp temporarily halted Show runner Emily Andras said filming on the cult-hit supernatural western show has been paused because of the COVID-19 pandemic. The show, which is filmed in Alberta, was in production on season 4. #WynonnaEarp news: we are temporarily shutting down production on season 4. We are sure this is merely a blip, but we must follow Alberta health protocols. The safety of our cast & crew is of paramount importance to us. Thank you to @SYFY & @CTVSciFi for their unwavering support! — Emily Andras (@emtothea) March 17, 2020 9:50 a.m. Trudeau addresses Canadians: “Nothing is off the table.” At a morning press conference, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau announced new measures to address the COVID-19 pandemic. among the new items announced Tuesday: Global Affairs has set up an emergency loan program of up to $5,000 to assist people who need assistance getting back to Canada from abroad. Trudeau says closing the border with the U.S. has not been ruled out. The government is examining the Emergency Measures Act to see if there are tools that would be helpful in battling the pandemic. Trudeau: “Right now, we must all work together. The bottom line is this: Each one of us can make choices that help the people around us. In fact, we can make choices that will save people’s lives.”#COVID19 — Sammy Hudes (@SammyHudes) March 17, 2020 Read more. 9:40 a.m. Read one pub owner’s reasons for shutting down on St. Patrick’s Day Chris Hewitt, owner of Dickens Pub, wrote an extended explanation of why he’s shutting down his pub for at least two weeks for the COVID-19 pandemic. Hewitt writes: “I’m doing this for my amazing parents who are in their 70s and the many other wonderful seniors in our community who should have lots of years ahead of them. I’m doing this for the people out there with pre-existing conditions who will have some nervous times to come. I’m doing this for the health care workers in Alberta who are going to have a lot of hard work ahead of them and perhaps this will reduce the burden slightly.” Read his full message here. 8:30 a.m. Public spaces empty as city embraces social distancing Our photographers captured these images of an eerily quiet public spaces on Monday. Calgarians are largely heeding the call to stay home and avoid public spaces. 7:30 a.m. WestJet international flights to be suspended starting Sunday WestJet announced late Monday it was suspending all commercial operations for international and transborder flights for a 30-day period. Today, PM @JustinTrudeau made a declaration to Canadians abroad that it is time to come home. Based on this, we will be suspending our commercial operations for all international and transborder flights on Sunday, March 22 at 11:59 p.m. MDT. Read more - https://t.co/dJtNHeij8V pic.twitter.com/iCUpI0hDCP — WestJet (@WestJet) March 17, 2020 Read more. 7:00 a.m. Mayor Nenshi urges people not to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day With the need for social distancing becoming more apparent, Calgary’s Mayor reminded people on Monday that the traditionally social holiday will just have to be more quiet this year in light of COVID-19. “St. Patrick’s Day is cancelled. We look to people to be responsible in that way,” he said. “We would encourage all hospitality industries to not throw big parties (Tuesday), and if we need an order to enforce that, we can do so.” Calgary council still had a Monday meeting yesterday, with some councillors phoning in from home so that no two councillors sat next to each other. Read more. Yesterday Coronavirus by the numbers This graphic shows how quickly confirmed cases have risen in the space of two weeks. Ontario, B.C., Alberta and Quebec have the majority of the cases. Notably, the percentage of travel-related cases have fallen from 80 per cent a few days ago to 74 per cent, indicating greater transmission of the virus within communities.