#I was drawing Willow on the board before it was destroyed

[alitteraladhdmess]

Here’s some drawing I’ve done recently

Which the whiteboard was ironically erased despite the note😞 But look at the skrunkly!!

Oh and a sketch I’ve been working on

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-Six: I Have the Best Summer Ever

The rest of Luz’s summer was a total blur of the best kind of amazing, fantastic, demigod-ness a kid could even imagine.

Luz’s days were filled with training in the arena, playing capture the flag, and hanging out with her friends. Every morning that she woke up and put on one of her orange t-shirts was another reminder that as of right now, she really had it good.

Sometimes in the mornings she and Eda would head out into the arena and spar while King took his usual sunbathing position a few feet away. Eda would parry and block her strikes, give her dirty tricks to use in upcoming games or events, and sometimes Luz would even get lucky enough to disarm her or pull something new she wasn’t expecting.

“I swear kid, one of these days you’re going to be even better than me,” she’d say, reaching down to ruffle her hair and switch her weapon and get ready for another round.

More than once, she and her siblings in the Hermes cabin had banded together to play some light-hearted pranks on the other cabins. Viney and Jerbo were a mischievous force to be reckoned with, and while Luz liked to participate she never really got lucky in the “getting away” part. More than once, Lilith had caught her in the act while she was placing a prank and turned a blind eye, and Luz always felt a rush of affection for the daughter of Zeus. It was asking a lot for her to not snitch, especially since she was a stickler for rules.

Luz made it up to her once or twice by pranking Eda on her behalf with a little bit of help from Edric and Emira. When her mentor showed up to the dining pavilion once with her hair sticking straight up in the air thanks to some magic hair gel, the laugh that came out of Lilith’s mouth made it all worth it.

At nights, Luz and Amity would sneak out of their cabins and hide from the harpies, sitting with their sketchbooks in the strawberry fields. They would laugh, and talk, and kiss, and enjoy each other’s company until one of them inevitably almost fell asleep and they decided to head back.

The wall of Luz’s bunk was soon tacked to the max with drawings, some of them of her quest, and some of them with fond memories of camp. She always did her best to text one to her Mami once in a while, and let her know how she was doing.

Luz made sure her cabin would try and team up with Gus and Willow’s whenever they could. The three of them were officially a force to be reckoned with during capture the flag. Their combinations and chemistry in battle often resulted in very easy and very early wins, and some of the other cabins were quick to point out they had an “unfair quest experience advantage”. While Eda had just shrugged, Willow did her best to make sure the teams would sometimes even out a little better after that.

Gods kept visiting camp here and there, usually to come by and say hello to their kids. Aphrodite had the habit of showing up unannounced and snapping her fingers, giving everybody an unrealistically fashionable outfit and hairdo, while the clothes they’d been wearing got snapped back to their bunks freshly washed and laundered. While some of the campers hated it, Luz didn’t mind. Aphrodite certainly had her style down to perfection, and pocketing another free outfit was always nice. Amity had other opinions on the matter.

“I just don’t get why she has to do this!” She complained, adjusting the pink t-shirt Aphrodite had magically slapped onto her. “It’s so weird!”

“I think that really suits you,” Luz shrugged while pointing to the leather jacket slung over Amity’s arm. “And your shirt says Hexside! How cool is that!”

Amity rolled her eyes as Luz did a spin, showing off her new green jacket and beanie to Gus and Willow. “She gave me new shoes too! My old ones are torn to bits from the quest.”

“You have to admit Amity, it’s nice getting free stuff,” Willow said while examining her own yellow jacket. “And she’s not the goddess of beauty for nothing. These are nice clothes.”

“My clothes look exactly like the ones I already own!” Gus complained, looking down at his simple navy button-up and jeans.

“If it isn’t broken don’t fix it!” Luz teased with a smile, patting him on the back. Amity groaned in embarrassment, slapping her hands to her face.

When Hermes showed up the first few times to visit the camp, Luz said hello to him, but also made sure that her other siblings got to spend some one-on-one time with their dad. As he was leaving the third time he visited, he pulled Luz aside for a quick chat.

“I just want to let you know that the gods have talked about adding an additional reward for you and your friends after what you’ve done for Olympus,” he said quietly, and Luz’s jaw dropped.

“I… I don’t need another reward dad. The way you guys have been showing up at camp is more than enough.”

Hermes tilted his head, smiling softly. “Perhaps you don’t need one, but the gods want to give it to you anyway. You have no idea the gravity of the situation that Belos had created upon Olympus. He almost destroyed us all.”

He looked around to make sure nobody was listening, and then leaned in to whisper.

“As the god of messengers, I was responsible for delivering a package to your mother and the rest of your companion's parents. You should hear from them shortly.”

Luz gaped. “What? What do you mean…”

Hermes reached over and gripped her shoulders. “I am proud of you, Luz. And trust me when I say I will make good on my promise and be there more for you and your siblings.” He winced rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And… don’t be the first one to use the shower this evening. Your siblings and I might have set up a bit of a cruel prank.”

With a flash of wind, leaving behind a thoroughly confused Luz, Hermes was gone.

Luz didn’t have to wait long to find out what exactly the gods had done, because her Mami was calling her on her cellphone almost immediately after.

“Luz! You’ll never guess what showed up in the mail today! You’ve been accepted for a full ride to a boarding school downtown…”

And she wasn’t the only one.

“I can’t believe this!” Gus had exclaimed while the four of them were sitting on the beach just after dinner. “We’re all going to the same school next year!”

“It really does seem too good to be true,” Willow grinned, handing Luz one of the illicit cans of Sprite that Viney had managed to sneak from out of camp in celebration. “My dads are sad that I won’t be staying at home in Wisconsin, but they had to admit it is a great opportunity.”

“I’m just excited to go to a school where I finally have real friends.” Luz had never been so happy to think about the start of a new school year before. “We’ll get to go see Olympus on the weekends! Working alongside the actual gods!” Luz turned to Amity, who was watching Luz with her own soft smile. “Are your parents… okay with this? After everything that happened…”

“Oh trust me, they’re more than pleased. They see this whole internship program to create a bridge between the gods and their mortal kids as a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity'. They’re even talking about paying for Edric and Emira to go with me and hope that my ‘success’ rubs off on them. They don’t love that you guys are also a part of it though…” Amity’s expression darkened for a moment, and Luz reached across the beach to squeeze her hand.

“I’m sorry,” Luz started, but Amity just shrugged her shoulders.

“Don’t apologize, this is a good thing. I’m going to get to stay here in New York full time.”

“We all get too!” Gus grinned, digging his hands in the sand like he was holding back a squeal. “Luz you’ve got to show us all your favorite moral spots in the city.”

Luz’s smile had stretched wide, already imaging the kinds of shenanigans she and her friends would get up to running loose in Manhattan. “Obviously! The city’s huge; we could do something new every night!”

“You’ll never be able to get away from us now,” Willow teased, passing Amity an amused look as she sipped from her Sprite. Amity tilted her head back and laughed.

“Oh gods, I better stock up on Advil. Between you three and the twins I’m going to have a constant headache…”

As it started to fade to late August, Luz’s days just kept getting better. Thanks to Eda and her training paired with the other camp activities, she was faster than she’d ever been, she could scale up the rock wall in record times, and her sword skills had gotten incredibly good.

So good, that when the annual sparring tournament came up in the arena towards the end of the summer, she’d been able to knock Boscha into the dirt with the pommel of Aletheia, leaving the red-faced daughter of Ares extremely bitter and her final opponent being none other than her girlfriend.

“No chance you’re going to go easy on me?” Luz asked at the campfire that night, really only half-joking.

“Nope,” Amity replied with a little smirk. “I’ve won this tournament two years in a row. I’m about to make it three.”

To say the camp was buzzing with excitement would be an understatement. The whole camp had watched as Luz the newbie quest hero and Amity Blight had grown obviously closer, and in the three days leading up to the final tournament match, the discussion of which girlfriend would be the winner was as common as asking what the harpies would serve for dessert that night.

“Come on, kid, this is what we trained for!” Eda said, smacking her shoulders encouragingly the night before the match. “I don’t care if she’s you’re little girlfriend, she won’t be going easy on you so you shouldn’t either!”

“Knock her into the dirt!” King screeched from his napping spot on the ground.

While they were only trying to help, it wasn’t the most reassuring advice she’d ever received.

Luz tried to turn a blind eye to the gossip leading up to the fight, but it was hard to ignore Emira and Willow exchange a bet right in front of her at breakfast right before the right.

“Seriously?” Luz scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Sorry Luz, but Mittens has years of training under her belt, and I’m out of allowance,” Emira shrugged while she shook Willow’s hand.

“You don’t see the way Amity acts around her,” Willow retorted. “If she’s like that today, Luz has a good chance.”

Emira hummed, “Shoot. I didn’t think of that.”

“Oh my gods,” Luz groaned, slapping both hands to her face, sinking into the bench of the table, mortified.

Once Luz had been fitted into a set of finally well-fitting bronze armor, she drew Aletheia and met Amity in the center of the field, where Eda and Lilith were standing to referee the match. As she approached, she watched Amity coming from the other side, armor almost identical to Luz’s strapped over an orange camp shirt, the crowd of campers cheering in excitement. As her gaze flitted up to Amity’s eyes, there was a glint that reminded Luz that Amity was not the person she wanted to be on the bad side of.

It was too easy to forget weeks after their quest that Amity was a demigod force to be reckoned with and not the kind of enemy you wanted to have.

As the crowd quieted to an anticipated hum, Lilith raised her hand. Her mouth was cocked in an uncharacteristically juvenile smirk. It made Luz wonder if the campers hadn’t been the only folks at camp to place bets. When Eda shot Luz a cartoonish smile with two thumbs up, before patting her pocket knowingly, it confirmed her suspicions.

Gods. Now she really couldn’t lose. Eda would never forgive her.

“Amity! Luz! Are you ready?”

With a single touch to her own wrist, Dike sprung into its full form, lifted just high enough to cover the grin that was spreading across Amity’s face. She swung her sword experimentally in her hand, the little flecks of a glinting in the sun. “Yep.”

Luz took a deep breath and raised her own blade nodding once. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“No holding back, right?” Even though Amity had phrased it as a question, Luz knew better. It was a challenge. The nerves in her stomach faded, and a laugh escaped her lips.

“Since when have I ever held back? ”

She smirked, “good point.”

“Alright your adorable banter is literally making me sick,” Eda scoffed, “let’s just do this already.”

Lilith rolled her eyes, dropping her hand. “Begin!”

Without wasting another beat, Amity charged and swung, and Luz lifted Aletheia to deflect it. A loud metallic clang echoed around the arena, and the watching campers erupted into cheers.

It was Luz’s toughest match yet.

The two of them traded blow for blow, each pushing the other to their limit. Amity was, inarguably, better trained, with mastered precision and skill that left Luz reeling with each strike. But Luz was more creative. She was able to flick her sword at the right angle to push her off balance and shove, she was able to dodge and weave without the extra weight of a shield, and she was crazy enough to take steps closer to her and press into her personal space, forcing her to recalculate moves.

As the fight went on for some time, the cheering got louder, their arms got heavier as they began to slow down, and the fighting got dirtier.

Luz did it first, though it was kind of an accident. Amity went to swing when she’d knocked Luz off balance, and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop it before it cut into her armor. Amity would have taken it out on herself later if she’d seriously hurt Luz, so it came out as more of an instinctual shout.

“Too low!”

She closed her eyes bracing for impact, but it never came. With a woosh, the sword went right over her head. She opened her eyes and saw Amity’s misty eyes clearing, before changing to a completely indignant look.

“Did you just use your Hermes bartering on me?”

She smiled sheepishly and swung Aletheia towards her, and Amity barely had time to raise her shield to deflect it.

She could hear the snorts and chuckles from both Eda and the crowd, but Luz barely had time to be proud of herself. Within the next two swings back and forth, Amity got her revenge.

Luz swung upwards, flicking the blade and finally getting a decent move that knocked her off balance. But as Luz went to disarm her, Amity’s eyes flashed and a curled smile crept up her face right as Luz brought her weapon forward.

“Don’t!”

And for a moment, all Luz could feel was the thrum of her heartbeat in her head as her vision went blurry. There was an overwhelming urge to get rid of Aletheia, back away, stop herself from getting any closer to Amity. All she could think about was how she couldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t even try. When her vision cleared, she had backed up five feet, and her sword slipped from her hand and clattered in the dirt.

She blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened before it dawned on her that she’d seen Amity do this once before. Aphrodite’s passion.

Luz looked down at the sword, then up at Amity, scowling. “Really?”

Despite the smirk on her face, Amity’s eyes were sparkling with humor and affection. “You started it.”

Luz barely had time to leap out of the way from another swing, doing her best to make a grab for the sword, but Amity wasn’t coming to play. She stepped right over it, and for a couple of moments, all Luz had was her speed. She ducked and dodged and weaved between swings, doing nothing but buying herself a tiny bit of time.

It wasn’t enough. Luz tried to make one last grab for the sword and Amity reached out with her hand, grabbing Luz by the arm and honest-to-gods judo flipping Luz over her shoulder. With a comically loud “oomph!” Luz was thrown onto her back, looking up at Amity as she grinned, her sword lifted in a faux-threatening position just below her chin.

“Alright,” Luz groaned, slapping her hand against the dirt. “Mercy.”

As Luz heard Eda groaning behind her and Lilith’s positively gleeful “and the winner is Amity Blight!” Amity sheathed her sword, reaching down with one hand and pulling Luz up to her feet.

And yeah, it was a tiny bit embarrassing to lose to Amity. But as her girlfriend lifted her fist to the roaring crowd of campers and grinned, her own hand wrapped tightly around Luz’s, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

The following night was Luz’s last night at camp before her first summer as a camper was over. She sat at the dining hall for hours with her siblings, joking, laughing, promising to stay in touch over the school year. Viney ruffled her hair and passed her an emergency pouch of Hermes tricks, while Jerbo reminded her not to be too close to this one when it exploded.

Edric and Emira snuck up on Luz at the table and informed them their parents did in fact enroll them in the same boarding school come the fall, and while Luz loved Amity’s twin siblings, the devious grin on her face did make her a bit nervous.

Right after dinner, Luz made a point to go find Eda and King, who were in their usual spot at the arena.

“Kid!” Eda said as she approached. “That was some great swordplay today.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t win, I know Lilith is probably giving you a hard time…” Luz said immediately, but Eda just held up a hand.

“Gross, sympathy. You’ve accomplished more than most first-timers this summer, and you’ve… made me proud.” There was a crooked smile on her face as Luz looked up at her, and she realized that Eda really was going to miss training with her. “Don’t be slacking while you’re gone. Keep your skills sharp. Stay out of the bad trouble, but in the good trouble. Don’t die. Oh, and if you’re getting chased by another empousai and need a quick getaway, there’s a great alley on sixty-second street-”

Luz rushed in, pulling Eda into a tight hug. While Eda huffed out a little groan at Luz’s overwhelming need to be touchy, Luz felt a rush of affection as the daughter of Zeus leaned into it anyway.

“Thanks, Eda,” Luz muttered into her shoulder.

A hand came up to pat into her hair. “No problem, kid. If Lili and I are ever heading to Mount Olympus, I’ll make sure we stop by that fancy new school of yours and say hello.”

“You better.”

"Can I come too?" King called out from at their feet, and Luz bent down to pick up the tiny hellhound scratching behind his ears.

"Yeah, can he?" Luz pleaded, and Eda rolled her eyes.

"Gods, you two are just the cutest things ever. Fine, whatever, the next time I go to Olympus I'll let him tag along."

After a chorus of excited cheering from Luz and King, it was time for the last campfire of the year. Luz finally got the true Camp Half-Blood experience. As Eda was leading the campers in a final last hurrah of songs and games, she walked over to Luz and reached out, handing her a leather necklace.

“As you all know, per tradition, every year we give our campers a bead to celebrate another year at camp. This year, the Hermes cabin designed the beads, and there is someone very special they wanted to honor.”

Luz blinked at it, taking it gingerly, and as she did Viney stood up, the twisted smile on her face visible through the crackling orange, magical, campfire.

“Luz, not only are you our newest sibling, but you helped lead a quest that not only saved Camp Half-Blood but all of Olympus. So with permission from the councilors from all the cabins, we dedicate this year’s bead to you and your quest!”

There was a whooping of applause as the beads were passed out, and when Luz took a look at it her heart clenched, affection and gratitude washing over her in a whirl.

It was a beautiful deep purple bead with a very familiar-looking sword and shield, and as she turned it in the light of the campfire, the glint of the light made it glow a beautiful magical bronze.

“So, did we nail it?” Viney asked as Luz was left speechless. Willow and Gus were grinning over at her with knowing smiles. Next to her, Amity squeezed her hand, looking just as emotional as Luz felt.

Luz leaned over and threw herself into the embrace of her half-sister, and the campfire erupted into more whoops and cheers. And yeah, Luz might have teared up a bit as she sat back down next to her friends, but if anybody noticed they didn’t comment on it.

That morning as she packed up what few belongings she actually had, electing to leave a majority of the items she’d bought for next summer, she was digging through her backpack when her fingers touched something soft. She pulled out a stiff, slick, feather, and immediately broke into a smile. Carefully sliding it across the leather to dangle right next to her bead, she clipped the necklace on and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Saying one final goodbye to the Hermes cabin, she walked out the door to go meet Willow and Gus in the strawberry fields.

When she got there, she couldn’t help but grin. Around the growing collection of beads on their necklaces, five and four respectively, a single matching feather was dangling from the middle. While none of them said anything about it at first, Luz watched as both Willow and Gus glanced down, their eyes softening with affection.

“Well?” Willow asked as she reached them, gesturing towards the now distant Camp Half-Blood. “Give us the verdict. What did you think of your first year at camp?”

“I…” Luz didn’t even know what to say. Sure, there had been the lows. The hungry belly as she traveled across the Midwest, the sword slashes, the monsters, the horrible villain who’d threatened to destroy the world. But right now as Luz looked between her friends and her new home, she felt nothing but love for her new life. The mischievous half-siblings, the rivals between the cabins, the eccentric camp directing duo that was the daughters of Zeus, Gus, Willow, Amity…

Luz couldn’t ever recall a time in her entire life that she’d felt so full.

“All I can think right now is that I don’t want it to end,” Luz finally said, and Willow and Gus stepped forward to pull her into a group hug.

“It won’t end, at least, not really,” Gus promised, his voice muffled as he was shoved into Luz’s bicep.

“Yeah, it’s just a short break,” Willow nodded, leaning her head against Luz’s shoulder and wrapping her other arm around Gus. “And in two weeks, we’ll all be together again on a new adventure.”

Luz laughed, “yeah, because the life of a half-blood is never really quiet, is it?”

“Well, that’s half the fun of it,” Amity said from behind her, and when Luz turned her head she saw her girlfriend walking through the field to join them. Her own backpack was swung over her shoulder, and she had a genuine, at peace, smile on her face.

“Spoken like a true Blight,” Willow chuckled from next to Luz, and Amity laughed.

“Well, maybe I’ll get lucky and this year away from my parents will shake some of that out of me.”

“You’re sure you’re mom and dad are okay with you staying at my Mami’s for two weeks?” Luz asked for what felt like the sixth time that week, and Amity shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m back to being their number one, despite all the… drama, that happened the last time we saw them. Edric and Emira will pack my things for school for me. Honestly… it’s kind of nice not going back to Colorado.”

After getting a first-hand glimpse into how uptight and uncomfortable the Blight Manor was, Luz couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t have too much fun you two,” Willow teased, and Amity flushed over the sound of Gus’ laugher while Luz bumped her with her shoulder.

Whatever retort Luz would have come up with died in her throat as she looked down towards the pine tree. There, a few parents were already waiting at the border, with some campers joining them and saying hello. Among the waiting ones, Luz saw a man almost identical to Gus, and two other men standing together with their hands interlinked.

“We better not keep them waiting,” Gus said slowly, but he looked back up at Luz with a frown. Willow was standing there as well, and for just another moment Luz felt that same rush of love.

“No, you shouldn’t. Amity and I will meet you at grand central in two weeks, okay?”

“Two weeks,” Willow affirmed, and Luz pulled the four of them into one last group hug before Willow and Gus grabbed their things and went to go join their parents at the pine tree.

It wasn’t a real goodbye, nowhere near it. But Luz couldn’t help but feel her throat close up at the sight of them reuniting with their parents. Gus’ dad scooped him up into the biggest hug, and one of Willow’s dads immediately took her backpack while the other one kissed her cheek.

She felt Amity’s warm hand close around hers, and when she looked back, the daughter of Aphrodite was smiling softly.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“I know,” Luz said, and she meant it. She squeezed her own hand around Amity’s, taking a moment to really let the gratitude she had for this camp, for these people, sink in.

It wasn’t long until she saw another familiar person join the other parents near the pine tree. Luz perked up immediately at the sight of her Mami, still dressed in her scrubs. She’d probably gotten off of a shift at the hospital and rushed all the way down to Long Island just to meet her and was looking around anxiously at the other gathering parents and campers.

“Is that her?” Amity sounded nervous, and when she looked over, she was reaching up with her other hand to self-consciously adjust her mint green hair.

“She’s going to love you,” Luz promised, giving her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. “She’s been talking about how excited she’s been to meet you for like, three weeks.”

“That… somehow makes me even more nervous,” Amity breathed out. Luz chuckled, adjusting the straps of her backpack over her shoulder as her Mami finally looked up and noticed them. She beamed so widely Luz could see it from all the way up in the strawberry hills, waving towards them.

“Well, then let’s do this together.”

Amity looked back at her one more time, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Together.”

And as they walked through the fields hand in hand, slowly getting farther and farther away from camp, Luz felt her anxieties about the coming months slowly begin to fade. That was part of the magic of Camp Half-Blood. The place wasn’t just a training ground for young demigods. It was a safe haven. A family. A place that, even miles and miles away from it, you always knew it would have your back. It would be there for you, whenever you wanted to return. So leaving it didn’t feel like a goodbye, not really.

Instead, it was the promise of another new beginning as a child of the gods.

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Read Into Me Chapter 3: The Scarlet Letter

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Word Count: 4,420

Warnings: Bad grades, swearing, anxiety, bullying

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @bajino-in-the-hole @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @t0rmenta0​ @10blurredsmoke10 @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @asharpknife @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​

Steve arrived first to Mr. Lawrence’s homeroom, his paper shoved to the back of his notebook. He was happy to have the distraction of Vicki and Tina jabbering at him. He didn’t want to think about his paper. English wasn’t his best subject, but he could hide it from his peers when it was just the teacher and him going back and forth on essays, him writing and them marking. Now, somebody was going to know that he wasn’t good at this. Nancy knew, of course, and while she didn’t say it she always seemed a bit judgemental over his lack of essay writing skill. She was good at everything; it made him feel like he was in good hands when they were together, like they both had something to offer. Apart, it made him feel stupid and secondary, like he was awful at everything. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know what he had even offered to that relationship, looking back he couldn’t understand why he thought he was worth anything in a relationship at all.

When he sat down, the desk next to him was empty. Steve wasn’t usually early to class, so he was a bit relieved to not see you there. Maybe he could avoid the eminent roasting of his work.

You got to school late. You were absolutely drenched from head to toe. You had walked to school that day, and a sudden rainstorm hit you halfway through, soaking you before you could make it to the building. To make it worse, you’d decided to wear white for the first time in forever. You rushed to your locker in the hopes to change and luckily you’d left a stained sweatshirt there from the previous semester. You’d pushed your wet hair up and away from your face and rubbed away the bits of black eyeliner that had flaked down you cheeks. You looked like shit and you knew it. It was turning into a less than successful morning. You hadn’t even had a chance to look in your locker mirror once you’d changed. You were already late enough for class and didn’t need the write up. You rushed to your English class.

Everyone turned their attention to the doorway when you opened it. You hurried to your desk, keeping your head down and ignoring as Vicki and Tina laughed. You heard Tina say “She looks like a drowned rat.” But you chose to pretend that you didn’t. You were freezing; Hawkins High turned off the heating system mid-March and left the school to stew in whatever weather the state was dealing with to save the county a few bucks a month.

Steve slid his paper onto your desk, keeping his eye on the front of the room as Mr. Lawrence took up attendance. He’d written on the board in chalk ‘how to peer edit’ in thick block letters. You weren’t exactly enthused by the topic, but you were glad to have the dull class to doodle instead of actually listening. You flipped the paper in front of you, looking over Steve’s chicken scratch without really taking in any of the information. You slid it into your trapper keeper, passing Steve your own typed copy of the assignment. You’d made sure to keep the original at home, edited just in case Steve didn’t give you any edits. You left in some mistakes so he could get a grade, but you didn’t want to have to rely solely on him.

You flipped open your sketchpad slowly, keeping your eye on Tracy Lords curly mess of hair piled high on the top of her head like Medusa’s snakes trapped in a golden laurel, or in this case a braided headband. You pulled your graphite pencil from the pink pencil bag you’d sewn in freshman year home-ec. You started with the shape, trying to capture the exact strangeness pile, making little tight curls in the centre of the oval and spiralling in all directions. You felt a pair of eyes on your neck and you turned to see Steve staring over your shoulder. You pulled yourself and the pad inward, trying not to blush. You didn’t like people looking at your art; you hardly showed your work to anyone, even Samantha. All of your drawings sat in their pads, which piled up as the years went by, untouched and forgotten. If Samantha wasn’t allowed to see the pictures of her, Steve Harrington was certainly not allowed a peak.

“Alright, today if you and your partner are ready to begin, we’ll start editing our papers. If you aren’t ready, that’s fine but today is the only day that we’re doing in class editing so I would spend today trying to finish up so you can at least pass your papers on.” Mr. Lawrence explained. You sighed, closing your pad and pulling Steve’s essay from your trapper keeper.

“Now, we want to look for not only spelling and grammar problems, but also sentences that don’t make sense and confusing details within the essay. It’s not about how many big words you can use, it’s if you can accurately and dynamically give your reader information.” Mr. Lawrence explained. He took to the board, writing key points for his marking, specifically to edit in pen and give a letter grade for the paper.

Tina’s hand shot up “You want us to grade the paper? Isn’t that your job?” she asked, smacking her gum violently. Vicki snickered into her palm, reddish brown hair away from her face.

Mr. Lawrence shook his head “No no, I’m not taking your grade on the papers into consideration for my grade, instead I want us to give each other grades to mark the progress of an essay, to give your partner an idea of what the paper might be worth. It’ll be up to them as to whether or not they are comfortable with the grade or if they want to improve.”

You didn’t like that. Who the hell wanted their classmate grading their paper? This was a recipe for disaster. You uncapped your red pen with your teeth, chewing on the lid nervously. You looked over the page. You had made up your mind that you’d be nice. You’d want Steve to be nice to you. It was the least you could do.

But it only took a few lines to understand that this was not a good paper. Spelling and grammar mistakes galore, run on, confusing sentences, no clear subject. It wasn’t even a good story, hell it wasn’t even an essay it came off more like a point form list. As you added more and more red ink to the black, white, and blue it started as. The paper started to become a Jackson Pollack more than a lame essay for an English class, it almost felt beautiful instead of shitty to destroy his essay. It was as though you were turning into art.

Out of curiosity, you looked over at your paper to see how it was fairing. Steve was, as expected, chatting up Vicki from across the aisle, and he’d made two corrections on your page, both small mistakes you’d left in. You rolled your eyes, a pit of annoyance making itself known in the centre of your stomach, as bitter as the cyanide in a peach pit. You made your last two corrects before scrawling a large ‘D’ at the top of the page and initialling next to it.  

You flipped the paper over and pulled back out your sketchpad and brought it close to your chest, pulling your knee up to your chest and adding more curls to the back of Tracy Lords’ head, then focusing in on the braided headband until the bell rang. You flipped your pad closed and slid Steve’s essay back to him, quickly putting your stuff away.

“You mind if I take this home and give it to you tomorrow?” Steve asked, waving your essay in front of your face, nearly giving you a paper cut on the bridge of your nose.

You pushed the paper away, squinting up at him. “Yeah, whatever…” you replied, turning away from. You didn’t feel bad for giving him a bad grade now. He was still a dick head. “Don’t forget your paper.” You added, quickly making your way into the halls. You didn’t usually have the confidence to be snarky with anyone you didn’t trust, but something told you that you could handle Steve Harrington. Maybe it was just how awful his essay was, you felt like you could talk your way out of a fight.

Samantha grabbed your arm as you left the room, the pair of you thankful to have the same lunch period every other day. You hurried into the cafeteria. You knew well enough that she was on the prowl, eyes scanning the room for a certain figure.

“I think the band’s practising today, dude.” You said, taking an extra tray for Samantha and getting her serving of lumpy mashed potatoes and chicken surprise slopped on the plate. Samantha was looking for Robin Buckley, a junior on her soccer team who had drawn her attention as of late, and had been trying to get closer to her as of late, inviting her to join them for lunch every time she saw her and leaving you to third wheel.

“Yeah, probably.” She replied, taking the tray you held out for her and paid for her meal. “So, how’d talking sweet, sexy assignments with King Harrington?” Samantha crooned, batting her eyelashes up at you.

You rolled your eyes “Well, for one, we don’t talk period, and for another it’s fucking awful.” Taking your places at the table closest to the emergency exit, you settled into your routine of trying to choke down the awful cafeteria food. You grabbed your trays and had them filled with whatever horrific concoction the lunch ladies had come up with that day. You carried your grey and brown mushy mess to your table, a small four seater near the edge of the room, out of view from the popular assholes who liked the throw food.

“Oh? Is that what makes it awful? Not getting to enjoy the charming conversations he has to offer?” Samantha was trying hard not to laugh. Watching you squirm was hilarious.

“More like because I have to read his writing…” you replied. You jabbed your fork into what was supposed to be pot roast, but seemed to be ninety percent instant gravy and ten percent meat from an undetermined animal.

“Since when are you such a snob?” Samantha’s mouth was full of mashed potatoes, but the words rang clear.

“Since I spent my morning reading absolute dog shit about a vacation to Miami beach. It was pathetic! I mean, and I’m no critic, but if you’re going to write me an essay on your vacation, can you at least make it interesting?” you ranted. The more you talked about how awful it was the angrier you got about it. You spent so long on art and creating, you spent your time working hard and for someone to slide through life made your blood boil.

Steve didn’t usually spend his free time searching through the cafeteria for people, people usually found him. Tommy and Carol had already motioned him over, their new friend Billy already gone somewhere else, and Vicki and Tina had called for him to join them, but Steve had to handle something first. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, he wasn’t certain he’d find it in there, but there wasn’t any shame in searching. He would ask someone for directions, but it seemed that nobody knew or cared where you were at any time.

You gave him a ‘D’. A god damned ‘D’! He was flummoxed, he thought his essay was shit, he wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t, but he had expected you to be a bit kinder. That was like the unexpected rule of everyone in the class, to grade on the curve. But you went in hard. All he wanted was some answers.

He saw first a flash of pencil stained hands in the air, then the shine of your hair under the florescent lights. You were talking with your hands, making Samantha Cameron laugh hard. He’d never seen you that animated, it made him smile for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

He chuckled, coming up behind you in the hopes that your ease would stick around if he didn’t announce his presence. “You really gave me a D on my paper? What did I do to deserve that?” he asked.

Apparently, you really couldn’t smile when he was around. Both you and Samantha’s smiles dropped, your punky friend dropping her gaze as you were forced to turn around. “Oh…um…well I mean it…maybe I need to look it over again, I was probably being too harsh…” you stuttered, unable to keep yourself from burning up.  You prayed that he hadn’t heard what you were saying. That would’ve been awful.

“Hey, it’s cool, the paper’s no good, it’s no big deal.” That was a lie of sorts, when Steve saw the big red ‘D’, his heart dropped. And he really didn’t believe that you were as innocent as you seemed. You seemed guilty over something.

“Well…I’m sorry anyway. I didn’t mean to bother you…” you apologized. You hoped he’d go away; you’d never been more uncomfortable around a person than Steve Harrington. You didn’t know why, but something about him made gave you more butterflies than other people did, he scared you for reasons you couldn’t quite understand.

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry.” Steve chuckled awkwardly. You wouldn’t look him in the eye, it was throwing him off. “So, listen, I don’t want to fail this class,” he huffed out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck “Could you maybe help me rewrite this thing?”

You looked to Samantha, unsure if you could even speak words anymore, but she was smirking into her pot roast. Absolutely no help at all. You tried to smile “Um…sure, I can’t promise I’ll be much help though…” your voice was hoarse and unsure of itself. You hated that you’d said yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. What if he got mad? Or yelled at you? You couldn’t handle being ridiculed or yelled at, you’d die.

Steve chuckled “Any help I can get is good enough. I can meet you in the library after school, okay?” he said, turning his gaze to Tommy’s hollering from across the cafeteria. He waved him over with both hands, like a sailor on a sinking ship, trying to beckon Steve back to where he belonged. Steve nodded, holding up his index finger, he only needed one minute.

“Sure, yeah that’ll work.” You said, fiddling with a thread hanging from the edge of your grey sweatshirt. You’d painted a little pink flower on the inside of the sleeve. When Steve saw it, he couldn’t help but smile at it; it looked so sweet and earnest.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” He left after that, heading over to Tommy, who was frustrated beyond belief. He took his seat easily, stealing the pudding cup off of Carol’s tray wordlessly.

“What did that freak want?” Tommy asked loudly, his eyes blown wide. Carol was painting her nails, not even bothering to look up from her work. Tommy made no attempts to hide his dislike of you. He’d expected his best friend since the second grade to feel the same.

“She’s nice, we’re doing an assignment together.” Steve replied with a shrug, pulling the plastic covering off the cup, sticking the plastic spoon into the vanilla pudding.

Across the room, Samantha grabbed onto your hands with a giddy grin. “Look at my little girl! She’s got plans, with a boy!” she squealed, swinging your arms back and forth over the table.

“Jesus, can you please stop acting so straight? You’re gonna scare Robin off.” You yanked your hands away, watching with a grin as she turned her attention back to looking around the room excitedly. You let your eyes find Steve in the cafeteria, the buzz of fear filling your ears. You couldn’t believe that you agreed to meet him anywhere. You wanted to disappear.

You couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the day. Your mind had gone into a feral sort of panic mode, pumping fear through your veins and turning your palms cold. When the final bell rang, it took all your strength and courage to not run all the way home. You knew that if you didn’t show, the problem wouldn’t go away. You’d just have to deal with the results of ditching the next day, and if not done now, then you’d have to deal with it another day. You clutched your books tight to your chest, sitting on the bench outside the library, trying to keep the butterflies from bursting out of your mouth. Your hands kept coming to your hair, trying to fix it or keep it away from your ears, maybe just to comfort yourself. It had dried weird and you worried that it looked ridiculous.

You saw his shoes come up to yours before you saw his face, royal blue Adidas with white and red details and dirty laces. You noted your own dirty white Converse, marked with mud and lyrics to songs that Samantha wrote on the toes. “Hey, you ready to do this?” Steve asked. You looked up and nodded, swallowing hard.

You wouldn’t make eye contact with him again. It was really starting to freak him out. He didn’t know what he did wrong, but it seemed like you really didn’t like him. Still, you’d agreed to help him and he wouldn’t take that for granted. He’d read your essay twice and it was good. He didn’t know much about good writing, but he knew that Mr. Lawrence would like it, that it would get a good grade. And he wanted decent grades too, so he could get into college and get his dad off his back.

The Hawkins High library was fairly quiet after school, most students headed back home or to after school clubs.  Only a few stragglers remained, mostly using electric typewriters and returning books to poor Mrs. Mueller, who always kept the library open till four, waiting for her husband, the head of custodial staff, to finish his work. She smiled at you when you walked in. Mrs. Mueller was a nice woman who let you sit in the library during lunch and always checked in on you when you seemed alone. She was your favourite teacher, despite never having a class taught by her.

Steve chose a table in the dead centre of the room, dropping his blue bag on the wooden chair next to him and pulling out his papers. You carefully followed suite, folding your hands in your lap, unsure what to do with them. Steve smiled at you, sliding the essay towards you “So, what am I doing wrong?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes, unsure where to begin. You picked up the paper, and then open your notebook, writing down everything the story seemed to be about. Steve watched you, utterly confused.  Once you had every down, you set down your pen. “Okay,” you didn’t look up from your paper, sliding the essay to the middle of the table. “Tell me what your paper is about.”

“What? You read it, you should know.” Steve laughed awkwardly.

“Humour me.” You replied, looking up slowly to meet his eye. Steve’s smiled dropped, looking at you for a second. You broke eye contact first, but he wished he had been able to hold it for a moment longer.

“Okay, well,” he took a deep breath “I wrote about my family’s trip to our cottage on Miami Beach, and I talked about what I did. Nothing much.”

“Okay, because what you actually wrote isn’t really about that. What you told me is that you went to Miami Beach, your parents own a dirty beach house that was your grandparent’s house and that they’re both dead, that your grandfather fought in World War Two and that the medals were framed in the house, that you met a girl on the beach but she didn’t like you, and that the flight was long.” You explained. You still couldn’t believe that he’d fit all of that into a page of work.

“So?” Steve asked. That was all true of his last trip. Mind you, that was way back in middle school and the details were hazy.

“So, that’s a lot of information that I don’t care about. You can cut all of the stuff about your grandparents, which takes up like half of it. And when you cut that, all I know is that the beach house is in Miami Beach and you met a girl and the flight was long. That’s not bad, but I’d like to know a bit more about it.” You said, taking back the essay from the middle of the page and crossed out every line about his grandparents.

“What do I say instead then?” Steve asked, watching as you crossed out half his page, trying not to sound defeated. You were basically saying that he had to start all over again.

“Well, tell me about the beach? Pretend like I’ve never been. What’s there to do, what’d you like about it?” you shrugged. You found yourself feeling a tad bit calmer; the butterflies had calmed their intense flapping and had let you breathe.

Steve sighed “I don’t know, I’m just bullshitting.”

“What’d you mean?” you asked.

“I mean, I didn’t go on there, I haven’t been to our beach house since I was a kid.” Steve looked away. He was embarrassed to have been caught in a lie, even more knowing that now he’d have to rewrite his whole paper.

“Oh…what’d you actually do on your break?” you hadn’t expected him to be lying about anything, a snow bird spring break trip sounded about right for his family, they were always bragging about their money.

Steve chuckled “Oh no, nothing worth writing an essay on.” You looked up at him again. He seemed a bit sad. You pulled another sheet of paper from your trapper keeper, setting it overtop the last one.

“Tell me about it.” You smiled at him despite yourself. He was bit easier to talk to than you’d imagined.

Steve swallowed, nodding despite himself. “Well, I mean my parents went to the beach house and I tried to throw a party, you probably heard about how that went.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“No…” you shook your head. Steve wasn’t expecting that. Everyone had heard about the failed party, he’d gotten shit about it for weeks.

“Well, I couldn’t get any supplies, so I cancelled and hung out with Tommy and Carol instead. We got drunk in my backyard and Carol fell in the pool. She was so pissed. Then, I pretty much just hung about town, helped my buddy Dustin beat Dragon’s Lair at the arcade.” Steve didn’t really like admitting how lame his life was, he purposefully left out how Tommy and Carol only hung out with him when he went to pick up some weed from his older brother and they wanted a hit off it. Admitting that his life wasn’t that great made him feel small and like it was out of his control, which was not exactly a good feeling.

“Okay, tell me about the little party you had with Tommy and Carol. What was the night like? Was it fun? Did you jump in the pool too or did you watch her fall and laugh?” You had written down the few details in a bubble tree and added more details as he explained his time more thoroughly. You managed to get a bit more information on both events, learning more about his friend Dustin and the game they played.

When he was finished, you slid the page over to him. He took it, eyebrow raised in confusion, but you spoke before he could ask any questions. “This is your blue print. I wrote down everything you told me; now just turn it into an essay. The whole trick about these assignments is that you’re telling a story, and to make it interesting you have to give us details, and not about your grandparents or other things that don’t add to the story at hand, about what actually was happening.” You explained, checking the plastic watch on your wrist. It was almost four and Mrs. Mueller had already passed your table twice, her silent warning to leave. Everyone else who had been there had long left and you became very aware of how alone you were with him. The butterflies started their flapping again, churning tides in your stomach.

Steve smiled “Okay, I promise it’ll be interesting though.” He chuckled.

You shrugged “I promise that it’s more interesting than what you had before.” You shoved your papers into your bag, standing quickly “If you want me to look at it again before you hand it in, just bring it to me in class, alright? The library’s closing so I should go.”

“You want a ride home?” you spun around to look at him, crossing your arms over your paint splattered sweatshirt. The rain storm of the morning was long forgotten and you didn’t know what the weather looked like now. A part of you wanted to take the ride, but a much bigger part of you told you to run away.

You shook your head “No, um my friend Samantha said she’d drive me after her soccer practise, she’s probably waiting for me.” You lied straight through your teeth, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.

“Oh…sure, yeah, I’ll see you around.” Steve stood slowly, tucking in his chair. You waved politely and headed out. The rain had stopped, thank god, and you rushed to your locker, grabbing your wet clothes from your locker before making your way outside. The field was muddy, practise was probably cancelled. You took the long way home that afternoon, cutting through the woods and the muddy park to avoid being spotted by Harrington on the way and getting caught in a lie.

The afternoon had gone well. And that scared the shit out of you.

[meg-noel-art]

Luna, Ash, and Willow for that ask thing!

KDFHGLDHG RJ!!! Thank you for enabling me to talk about my fankids, this is gonna be a long ass post, let’s go!!!!!!!!

1.) 2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod:

Luna: I am definitely just taking songs from the playlist @athetos made for Luna, so “Ghost” “Numb” “Perfect” “Stuck in the Mud” Classic angsty teen anthems

Willow: She listens to a bunch of indie artists I can feel it. “Creature Fear” by Bon Iver, “Backwards Walk” Frightened Rabbit, “Skinny Love” the Birdy cover. A soft baby.

Ash: I feel like Ash isn’t actually a big music person. He maybe has a few tunes that catch his attention but doesn’t have ‘playlists’ per say. He likes instrumentals/scores more than lyrical music, pop ballads and what not

2.) the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep – where they’re not supposed to:

Luna: Probably the roof....mfhgksdhgkl I like to think she literally climbs Bright Moons towers to sulk on the rooftops and watch sunsets and sunrises and such. But she also definitely just falls asleep on the shingles--hundreds of feet above the ground. 

Willow: Not sure there’s anywhere she’d ever be forbidden from falling asleep? But perhaps on nights she’s anxious, she slips out of her house and falls asleep in Plumeria’s flower patches. Maybe a tree if she wants to see the stars better.

Ash: Not necessarily forbidden, again, but Luna’s room. Falls asleep in weird, cat like places like her closet or underneath the bed, or on top of the canvas. Beyond that, when traveling, I imagine he likes to also climb into a good tree--when he’s not curled up with Melog.

3.) the game they'd destroy everyone else at:

Luna: Chess (or the Etherian equivelant). Luna is smart and actually enjoys strategy games, and I think chess would be the one thing that would get her to slow down and process her choices before making them.

Willow: I get the vibes that Willow is very good at Monopoly. She’s so quiet that no one notices she’s taken over the entire board until there’s nowhere to run.

Ash: Black jack or hide-and-seek (if it’s a game other than like... a board game) Also Uno, he’s got card games on lock.

4.) the emoticon they’d use most often:

Luna: 💖 <--she stole this one from Glimmer

Willow: A combo pack of 🙏🏻😌

Ash: 🥵 because it freaks the other two out

5.) what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep:

Luna: Cranky, prone to tears and emotional break downs. But like Adora before her, refuses to sleep out of absolute stubborn pride that her body shouldn’t stop until she says it can.

Willow: More reserved than usual if she doesn’t get enough sleep (not that that ever happens) Less inclined to follow along with her friends antics. Also a mite grumpy.

Ash: Forget show to speak in anything other than hisses and growls. His sleeplessness is 100% visible in how he carries himself. Sluggish and grumpy.

6.) their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever:

Luna: Undoubtedly hot chocolate or something similar. Both her moms have a sweet tooth, she did not escape it.

Willow: Tea! Of probably many varieties, but because I’m biased, her favorite is Chamomile.

Ash: This is a hot cider kid, through and through.

7.) how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump:

Luna: Despite her angst, Luna definitely does better when with other people if she’s in a slump. If she was truly feeling down, she’d spend the day just doing something lazy with her friends. Watching movies, reading/telling stories, playing games--they never leave her room. Extended sleepover. As a younger kid/baby, hanging with the moms achieved the same effect ;;; particularly getting she-ra piggyback rides.

Willow: She goes all out with a nice bath, floral scents, candles, followed by meditation and relaxing stretches.

Ash: He takes walks--let’s himself absorb nature and the larger world. Melog always goes with him. A comforting presence, therapy pet style but---giant panther creature.

7.) what they wanted to be when they grew up:

Luna: The next She-Ra. The responsibility of the role has never really hit her, she just wants to be a super kickass magical warrior Princess. Queen is okay too...

Willow: She just wants to do/be whatever will most help her people/ the people of Etheria. She doesn’t actually like traveling much beyond Bright Moon and Plumeria. Her future is a little foggy, but she’s not too pressed about it, her moms are calm and gently guide her through any uncertainties anyway.

Ash: Mostly he just wants to travel and explore and adventure. Wherever that takes him, or whatever it leads him to become--he’s okay with!

8.) their favorite kind of weather:

Luna: Cold months, when snow falls and she can curl up in front of the fireplace. When the world goes still and quiet and the existential thoughts fully settle in.

Willow: Spring!! New life, not too hot! All the animals come out of hiding, the flowers bloom. the air is crisp, the sun is out longer... Peaceful vibes.

Ash: Summer time. The sun is always warm, meaning there are plenty of moments to catch a catnap. Beyond that, he likes not having to deal with snow or rain.

9.) thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

Luna: She’s a decent singer. but you’d never know it from the way she caterwauls in the shower.

Willow: Beautiful voice! Often too shy to show it though...She picked up playing ukulele to write songs and play for Luna (who is always wildly impressed)

Ash: This boy cannot sing.

10.) how/what they like to draw or doodle:

Luna: she drew so many pictures as a child. Wild stick figure scenes, self portraits, her friends and family, retraced the murals in Bright Moon. Stopped drawing once she hit her teens and has not since, but she can.

Willow: Doodles hearts and flowers in her diary, beyond that, she sometimes does like ‘life studies; of the flowers around Plumeria. She’s good! But doesn’t show off her talent.

Ash: Ash doesn’t really draw. But I imagine he crafts/carves, which is an artistic talent in and of itself. He might doodle the occasional rune or something into something he creates, but beyond that...

THANK YOU!!

[tangledadventures]

Tangled: The series Q&A with Ricky

This is a recap from (April 27th, 2019) Questions and Answers session with Ricky on the Tangled Discord Server. Server link here.

Questions in bold Ricky’s answers unbolded

I'm all done with the show. I wrote the premiere and midseason for season 3 And Tom directed so, fun. I'm writing Big Hero 6 now. Well, finishing up on that. Then moving on to another. I only worked on 3rd season of BH Tangled and Big Hero are on the same floor so I feel like I never left And I still go to the Tangled snack table to raid their goodies

Honestly hearing crew stories makes me even more curious to find out what the studio environment is like

It's very chill and normal The office looks like a normal office building with cubes in the center and offices around the sides. Except everyone has cool toys and there is art all over the place And there is a lot of candy and cereal And they just gave us La Croix

Did Edmund name Eugene "Eugene" or did he have a different name for him before he sent him away?

He doesn't call him a different name so Isn't two names enough

Do we have a name for Mrs. Fitzherbert? Ummmm... Not sure about his mom's name.

So what would we expect on series finale of tangled? Non-spoiler stuff ofc

You can expect there to be no episodes after that But I seriously can't/won't talk about season 3 stuff As Chris always says, let the show speak for itself

But also there is so much heart and comedy and fun If everything is sad, then nothing is sad

What is your favourite moment in the show so far?

Favorite moment so far? Umm... 1.Bringing Pascal back to life. 2.Rapunzel tricking everyone and stealing the idol 3.Waiting in the Wings 4.Anything with Trevor

I don’t want to bombard you with questions - but do you know if Varian has a canon official age for season 1?

I THINK he's 14 Pretty sure Chris confirmed that at some point I think. I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure 14 in S1 Well the authors of the books got a lot of info from us. At one point we had to answer this really long questionaire about the characters so we might have answered 14 in that

So Rapunzel's bedroom in the castle is in the highest tower. But we've also seen there's a hallway outside of her room. My question is: where are the stairs?

Probably underneath so they can climb up to it

can you tell us the non-spoilery parts about varians original concept when he was still an adult on the drawing board? or was he just "bad guy - adult - science"

There were a few things that were just pitched around. Like I remember he was an apple picker or something. He had an orchard. And he had a cart and would come to Corona

Was like him having Dad issues still a thing or no?

Umm...maybe Chris had that planned but I just remember thinking of him as older when I first came on

So he wasn't an alchemist just an apple picker or did he still do alchemy?

Ummm... he did alchemy too I think. I don't remember. I have a test premise that I wrote with an older Varian and it had elements of alchemy in it so I think he always did

Did the characters go through any different names then the ones they have?

Yeah, we changed names of characters a lot Like in the room in the writing process Keep in mind it's like almost 5 years ago that I started on the show so some of it is fuzzy It's hard to remember the old names because they were only old names for like one draft haha

What shows or stories inspire some of the stuff that goes into the series? Like designs, plots, ideas, etc?

Uh, there are different things for sure. For Happiness Is, I was very inspired by John Steinbeck's "The Pearl" It's a great novel (it's pretty short...novella?) about a poor pearl diver who finds a giant, magnificent pearl and thinks it will solve all of his life's problems. Instead, it destroys everything. For Great Expotations I drew on Pretty In Pink quite a bit The John Hughes movie For Vigor the Visionary, I thought a lot about The Rescuers with respect to the daylight thieves. In the beginning at least Like, mostly tone and stuff The Rescuers is a disney film about mice that save an orphan Ruthless Ruth had a lot of Haunted Mansion inspiration For Mirror Mirror we were inspired by John Carpenter's "The Thing" One Angry Princess obviously had a Law and Order hue to it And early days in Way of the Willow we were influenced by the movie Parenthood (the Ron Howard film with Steve Martin). There is an uncle character played by Tom Hulce that shows up and is super charming, but he's irresponsible. It's not how the story went necessarily, but it was something we talked about when figuring her out. Oh and for Pascal's story I was pretty heavily influenced by Snoopy Come Home.

I think Tom had a ton of ppl mention the Hydra from Hercules when it came to the snake in Pascal’s Story

It may have influenced the design of the snake I'm not sure though because I'm not in on that process really I think in the script I described him as red haha As long as he only had one tooth left that's all that matterd Okay y'all. Thanks for talking to me! I'm gonna run. I have to go to the store and buy an anniversary card for my wife! I'm slacking

Thanks for chatting with us, Ricky! always a pleasure!

Of course! You all are so nice! Thanks for being so welcoming!

[asterinjapan]

Peach cental

Good evening from the city of peaches!

Today was a travel day, but it was the least cumbersome of all my travel days, so I still had time to Do Stuff. So I’ve been busy, and I’m definitely going to bed early considering I have already reserved a train ticket for tomorrow at 8:30, haha.

So, from Fukuoka to Okayama! Here we go. As it turns out this entry got long, so apologies in advance...

I got up early to have breakfast in peace, had a very quick check-out, and proceeded to make my way to the station. I think this might be the first day my legs are legitimately protesting, and that’s mostly because I had to drag my suitcase with me. Thankfully, my hotel is pretty close to the station, and the entrance for the shinkansen trains is nearby as well. Of course, I was way too early, so I watched the Nozomi (the fastest of the shinkansen, which I can’t use with m JR pass) come and go before my train showed up, the Sakura.

It was a little under two hours to Okayama, passing Hiroshima and Fukuyama on the way. Fukuyama castle is a literal stone’s throw from the station, but I noticed the main tower was partially covered, so I’m glad I went to see that one last year already!

After a smooth trip, I arrived at Okayama station and all but went deaf upon exiting, because there were all kinds of events going on. Today is a national holiday (Health and Sports day I think), so I guess that had something to do with it. Also, it’s hot! I was already regretting my warm pants, but what can you do.

I’m staying in the same hotel as last year, which is very easily found from the station anyway, so that was only a quick trip. In the lobby, I took out the necessities for my ‘daily backpack’ and then asked if I could leave the rest of my luggage here, as I was too early for check-in. Thankfully I could, haha, because I had Plans that would be significantly troublesome if I had to drag my suitcase with me.

So, out of the hotel I went, following the Momotarou street down to Okayama castle! Okay, two things: Momotarou is everywhere here. He’s a character from a folk tale, in which an elderly couple found a giant peach in the river and upon cutting it open, a boy jumped out. They raised the boy as their own and he ended up becoming a hero, as he teamed up with a dog, pheasant and a monkey and went on to defeat ogres. His name is Momotarou, which basically means ‘peach boy’. The story is more or less set in the region – there’s a prince called Kibitsuhiko whose story might have inspired Momotarou, and the shrines dedicated to him can be found in Okayama. I talked about this for a bit last year too, when I stayed in Okayama for the first time. Anyway, this has a predictable result: peaches and Momotarou everywhere. So down from Peach boy Road, onto the castle!

I visited the castle last year with my friend, but there was a little something we didn’t get to do, so I was taking this chance to rectify that.

Upon arrival however, it turned out there was a festival of some kind going on. Fun atmosphere, but it did mean it was pretty busy, hmm.

Into the castle I went anyway! They want you to start the tour on the top floor, so I meekly followed that advice and made my way down. The Thing I wanted to do would start again at 1 PM, so I took my time exploring the different floors and reading the Japanese signage (not a lot was translated except for titles, but I found the general guide boards pretty easy to follow). There was also a special exhibition with works by Masago Kimiya, who has an affinity for drawing historical figures from the Three Kingdoms and Warring States eras. I had no idea what to expect, but these works were beautiful! They look more like glamorous photos than the stylized portraits from back then, and to top it off, the hall told the story of Ukita Hideie, who completed the castle after taking over from his father. He was a big name, actually. (History lesson to follow!)

The little states making up Japan until 1600 were at constant war with each other, called the Sengoku (Warring States) era. Attempts to unify the country were made by Oda Nobunaga and then Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Hideie sided with them and ended up being one of Hideyoshi’s five counselors, along with a guy called Tokugawa Ieyasu. Yeah, there he is again, That One Guy. Anyway, after Hideyoshi was assassinated, Ieyasu took control and two camps emerged: the one on Ieyasu’s side, and the loyalists to Toyotomi, including Hideie. At the decisive battle of Sekigahara in 1600, Ieyasu’s side won, unified Japan, and Hideie was to be punished. He fled to what is now Kagoshima until he was eventually betrayed and exiled to the island of Hachijojima, Tokyo, where he lived out his life until his 80s (!). His wife, princess Gou, stayed loyal to him and kept sending him support (like food, since rice barely grew on the island) until she passed away.

Later the castle went to the Ikeda clan, and it was being maintained until the Meiji Restauration in 1869. The Meiji government wanted to break with the samurai era and actually tore down a lot of castles, although it left Okayama castle alone, filling the outer moats and leaving the rest as it is. In 1945, bombers destroyed the castle as yet with the exception of the Tsukimi Yagura (watch tower for moon watching), and so the current reconstruction is from the 1960s. The lion-fish on top are gilded now, but in the old days, the main keep had gilded roof tiles too. It was thus also known as the Golden Crow castle, since the exterior is mostly black.

Whew, so far for a lot of history, haha. Can you tell I really like this castle? I definitely do. So much so that I read up on it, haha, although the exhibition hall was also very informative and had information in English.

On the second floor, there were some photo spots and the Thing I wanted to do: dressing up as a feudal era princess! Okay, look, the kimono on display is really pretty and the dress up is free, come on, I’m not gonna pass up on that opportunity. I had to hang around here for quite a while, as I was about an hour early, but once it was time, I was first in line! And wow, they’re not playing cheap here even though this is free. I got dressed up in a fancy kimono, got to pose all over the special room, got a wig on, got dressed up in another fancy kimono, and overall really got to make the most out of this experience. I checked my camera; there are literally a hundred pictures on there! One hundred! Wow.

So that was a really fun activity and I’m really glad I came back for it. I got a castle parfait at the café (with peach, of course, I was surprised they even offered strawberry as a different choice), and then went back outside again. I think the festival had a stage for a Momotarou something or another, geesh…

I made my way back to the station, foregoing checking into my hotel as I had another destination in mind: nearby Kurashiki!

You might remember last year’s floodings which hit Japan hard. Kurashiki was one of the cities hit, and so we didn’t end up visiting despite how close it is. So now for a second attempt, I took the local train bound for Kurashiki, which took like fifteen minutes. Told you it was close, haha.

Kurashiki is mostly known for its Bikan historical area, which is the old merchant quarter from back when the city became a river port and was so important it was placed under direct control of the shogunate. Many of the buildings are 17th century style wooden warehouses, now filled with restaurants and shops for the most part. There are also some curious museums nearby. (There was also a little shop with a board outside for figure skater Daisuke Takahashi, and that’s how I found out that both he and Keiji Tanaka hail from Kurashiki, haha. The more you know!)

I mostly went for the views, which were definitely a treat once I found the Bikan historical area: the description ‘Venice of Japan’ is surprisingly apt. There are tourist boats going through the canal area and they’re beautifully framed by the willows here. It’s also apparently a very popular backdrop for cosplayers, since I saw a TON of people dressed up as their favourite characters and posing for pictures here, haha. Guess that’s what I get for going on a holiday. It was fun to see though!

Nearby was Ivy Square, also aptly named as it contains buildings overgrown with ivy. It was the area where the first modern cotton mill of Japan was built, and the company from back then is actually still active.

I only wandered around here for a short bit though, and then found one of the little museums I mentioned. I hopped into the Momotarou Karakuri museum! Yep, peach boy strikes again. Karakuri apparently refers to a type of doll, which I did indeed see here, but the museum itself as a strange mix between optical illusions and a museum of Momotarou memorabilia. Not the first combination I would have thought of myself, but the staff was enthusiastic and led me through the illusions (all Momotarou/peach themed of course), encouraging me to try them out and taking a picture with my head through a giant peach, so now I can pretend I’m Momotarou myself, haha. Granted, the illusions weren’t super new, but they were very open about that (‘trick first invented 150 years ago’ listed), and it was still fun going through them. Next was a delightfully trippy little maze full of ghosts and ogres, since Momotarou had gone on a quest to defeat the ogres after all. I got better scares out of this one than out of the self-proclaimed haunted house in Huis ten Bosch, Sasebo some years ago, haha.

I was then led upstairs, which was very interesting as this was the museum part, showcasing all knids of Momotarou goods dating back hundreds of years in some cases. There was also a little English book with the story on display, and apparently they made a Mickey Mouse set at one point with Donald, Goofy, and Chip and Dale as the animal companions, haha.

This was a nice little break. Parts of it were definitely aimed at kids, but that didn’t make it any less fun.

 I had another museum planned, but I was getting rather tired, so after a quick round on Ivy Square, I walked back to the station. This time just taking the main road, because I had tried to take the shopping street route on my way here, but I somehow managed to – uh, mess up on going right ahead and had to google Maps my way out, oops. So the walk back to the station was significantly shorter, ahem.

After a matcha latte at the station, I went back to Okayama and decided to reserve some tickets for trains. Of course I had to secure my one-way trip to Tokyo, as that one will take about 4 hours, yikes. I should arrive at Shinagawa station around 12:30 now, plus half an hour added to get to Ikebukuro, so at least that’s not the entire day wasted on trains, haha. Although the shinkansen are super nice. There’s enough space for me to put my luggage in front of me, although it can get a little cramped for hours on end.

And then my second ticket: tomorrow, to Matsuyama! This is also quite the trip, over 2.5 hours, but it’s just one train, so I can hop on, doze off, and hop out at the terminal station, haha. I wanted to visit Matsuyama last year, but due to the same floodings, it was impossible at the time. And so I wasn’t going to wait much longer and made it my first daytrip from Okayama this time.

Anyway, after checking in to my hotel, I went back to the station for dinner, lamented the fact that one of my favourite restaurants from last year was closed for renovations along with a big part of the food court, found a different restaurant, and promptly ordered their super cute Halloween plate, haha. And now I’m back at the hotel for tonight!

 I suspect my report and photos will be up a little late tomorrow, ahem. Have a good evening, see you!

[lycorogue]

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

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

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

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

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

1) Gyateara

2) Glitches

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

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

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

Amara Yori

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

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

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

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

Based solely on this mini, I started building Amara.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natalie

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

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

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

InuYasha

The Vision of Escaflowne

Fushigi Yuugi

The Devil is a Part-Timer

The Rise of the Shield-hero

The Saga of Tanya the Evil

The Familiar of Zero

How to NOT Summon a Demon Lord

Sword Art Online (technically)

.Hack//Sign (technically)

Digimon (first season, specifically)

Psyren (manga)

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

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

Connor

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

Connor’s traits included:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jolene Crisslebalm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Bitmoji is a beautiful thing...)

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

[unholyhelbig]

Based on the anon ask, prompt: “Aubrey Posen believed in lots of things, but love was not one of them. That is, until she met Emily.”

SEND ME PROMPTS HERE

Aubrey Posen believed in a lot of things. When she was ten years old, she started to believe in ghosts. Her mother was driving down a long-winded path and fog seemed to take up every inch of spare expanse that North Carolina had to offer. It was cliché, really. But the man she saw standing on the side of the road dressed in a slate grey uniform convinced her that ghosts were real, as real as the clothes on her back and the blanket that was covering her lap. She didn’t’ say a word, but she knew her mother had seen him too.

When she was sixteen she believed that things happened for a reason. A letter coming in the mail stating that her father was going back into the infantry. He would travel and see the world. He would write, and he would stop writing. And she would sit between her two older siblings, blindly reaching for their comforting touch when they got the news that he was coming home. But only to pack his things.

She crashed a car when she skidded on black ice at nineteen, learning to believe that it was okay to make mistakes. Her older brother pulling her into a minty embrace instead of screaming about his wrecked jeep. He wasn’t angry, instead, he squeezed her shoulders and hastily warned her never to scare him like that again.

Aubrey Posen believed in a lot of things, but love wasn’t one of them. That is until she met Emily.

She had felt the light like never before that day; a star that hung high in the sky pressing heated rays against exposed skin. It was a warmth that she couldn’t ignore, the atmosphere clear despite the musty scent of rain taking up home in her lungs. Aubrey loved the smell of the rain and the even sharper scent of incoming snow. That thankfully didn’t present itself this early into October.

Booths lined her on either side, some of them boasting signs that were carved expertly. They advertised peaches and corn. Sweetgrass baskets that had been so expertly woven in the spare time of their crafters. Aubrey bit into an apple, her teeth pressing past soft green flesh as sticky juices dripped down her chin. This was home, for her, this had always been home.

Aubrey didn’t’ miss the stuffy suits or the smog that coated New York Cities risen air. The cases that stacked against her desk were long forgotten as her mind buzzed with nothing other than making her way carefully through the farmers market. Everything was muted and enhanced all at once. She loved her visits home and loved the stillness of them even more.

“Oh, shi-“The voice pulled through the low buzz of the market, not many people looking up from examining their tomato’s, poking and prodding until it looked bruised enough to beg for a discount. But there she was, struggling to lift a case of mason jars from the back of a rusted old ford.

They dripped in a golden syrup, bubbles catching a certain aim of lighting from the very sun that warmed Aubrey’s cheeks. She could practically taste the sweet substance as it barely sloshed around. The booth simple stated: Honey. Little symmetrical combs were slathered in yellow at the corner of the board. It was simple, and at this rate, it was going to lose all of its merchandise.

“Here, let me help you,” She said.

Aubrey wasn’t one to rush towards a stranger. She wasn’t one to try and show off by lifting something that was a little too heavy, even for her. She could feel the subtle burn in her arms, and the moisture that collected against her collarbone. None of that could make up from the bright, almost impish, smile she received in return.

She set them down on the shaded countertop, rolling her shoulders back as she looked at the stranger. She was tall, even with mud-stained converse on, sporting a worn t-shirt and a flannel. The girl’s features were soft and kind, and damn, did they feel like the sun. The flower that bees were drawn to driven by the very nature instilled upon them.

“Thank you so much,” She panted, pulling the red baseball cap from her forehead, she dragged her forearm against it, smearing dirt and sweat. “You have no idea how much trouble I’d be in if I dropped those.”

“It was really no problem.” Aubrey just chuckled at the girl’s frantic words, she was still panting in the heat. Watching as the stranger ripped into the box that she had just set down. “What are you-?”  

“Here,” She produced an amber colored jar. “It’s on the house. Assuming that you actually like honey, this here is the best stuff. Homegrown. Well, home harvested.”

“Thank you,”

Aubrey absently ran her fingers over the printed label. It had that soft yellow background that her booth occupied. The same logo too, but up close, Aubrey could see the tiny script of Emily’s right above the bulky text. She glanced up, Emily suited her. She started to take the rest of the mason jars out of the cardboard box, humming along to an odd tune that the lawyer couldn’t quite place.

She walked away that day, the weighted glass of honey still prominent in her hand as she shifted its contents. There were little flakes of yellow pollen swimming in the stagnant warmth. A certain heat pressed against her abdomen, an odd place for the sun to reach, but she swallowed it back.

The coffee coated her throat, it’s bitter edge never too strong. Willow Heights was never known for an intoxicating brew. Instead, she settled for the burnt flavor and the washed-out white mugs that used to have logos sprawled against them. Now it was just little black spots where the paint hadn’t exactly faded yet.

Still, Aubrey gulped it down hungrily to wash away the taste of the pie that she had eaten, nothing but crumbs were left on her plate and the waitress dressed in a sickly mint green ensemble took that as enough of a sign to clear it and refill the mug with little conversation. She almost liked it that way, the quiet.

There was a mother watching her son destroy an ice cream Sunday in the corner of the diner. He was missing his mouth, coating his fingers in a sugary mess of black syrup and cherry juice. She winced at the thought of how sticky he would be, but the woman seemed not to fret too much. She gave her a knowing glance. It practically screamed kids will be kids.

There was, of course, the cook, but his focus was on spraying clean dishes in the back of the house. The waitress smacking her gum like the blood that rushed past Aubrey’s ears. It was rhythmic in a gross kind of way. The bell above the door was accompanied by the deadpan cold that ran through town when the sunset.

The girl from the farmers market.

It had in fact rained. She was quick to peel off her soiled jacket and hang it on the small coat rack by the door. An unused umbrella rested against the glass door frame. A missing cat poster with eminent water damage dog-eared at the excess of wind.  

“Hey, Em” The waitress mustered a sunny disposition. “The usual?”

“You bet,” She rubbed her hands together in the heat of the restaurant. Aubrey couldn’t help but stare, her expression was soft and captivating all at once. She had seen beauty before, really, she had. But Emily had a certain rawness like unsweetened honey. It was smooth but had a bitter kick that she craved the taste of. “Oh hey,”

Aubrey blinked dumbly for a second, licking her lips. They tasted burnt, the coffee still lingering as she registered that she was actually being spoken to. “Hi”

“Mind if I?”

Emily gestured to the stool next to hers. There were other seats available at the counter, but Aubrey had the feeling that if she had taken any of those, she would be caught staring violently at the girl. Not out of lust (Not entirely anyway) but out of pure captivation. She gulped down the sour taste in her mouth as she nodded.

The waitress eyed Aubrey as she set down a big glass of what smelled like root beer in front of Emily. The girl denied a straw before downing a quarter of it in one fail sweep.

“I’ve never seen you around before, stranger.”

“Stranger? Oh. I’m not from round’ these parts.”

She laid on the southern accent thickly, a hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. Emily seemed to redden at this. Aubrey supposed they did sound a little too dramatic for her taste, almost as if she could reach into her belt and find a pearl embossed pistol at the ready. All she would have to do is spin the barrel and hope she didn’t’ load it.

“Very funny,” Emily nudged her shoulder. She smelled like rain. “I just don’t know what a girl like you is doing in a town like this one.”

“I’ll have you know, I grew up here.” Aubrey straightened her back and raised her own mug to her lips, taking another long gulp of stale caffeine. “What gave it away?”

“That you haven’t been home in a long while?” Emily quirked a brow “No one in Willow Heights has a manicure.”

Aubrey’s grey stare flicked to her nails instinctively. They were painted in a nude color, but they had been done professionally. Half of her wardrobe was pressed and trimmed and tailored just to fit the standards of a courtroom. A small farming town like this one didn’t’ even have a nail salon. But Aubrey liked it that way.  

“You’re very observational for a beekeeper.”

“Thank you,” she straightened her stance, drawing in another gulp of her soda like the heat of the carbonation didn’t bother her at all. “You kind of have to in my position.”

Aubrey could only imagine. One false move and little insects with sharp stingers would find their way past a strong suited woman. It wasn’t like dealing with slimy defense lawyers who had slicked back hair and venom dripping past their teeth- no, this was something delicate.

The waitress chewed her gum silently as she set a large plate of chocolate chip waffles in front of Emily with some silverware. Whipped cream was stacked to the very top, a few strawberries made dents in the mountain. “Thanks, Erica!”

She hummed in response and filled up Aubrey’s cup once more, earning a grateful nod in response before she went back to playing some matching game on her phone. The mother in the corner of the diner hastily tried to wipe away the syrup on her sons’ fingers.

“Oh my god, how can you eat that?” Aubrey chuckled into her cup.

“What? You mean this?” She shoved a strawberry into her mouth, chewing happily “Easy. Breakfast for dinner is the best.”

Aubrey cocked a brow, sitting back in the bar stool as she watched the woman slather her food in a coat of maple before cutting it into small little pieces. Breakfast was something that was limited to a protein bar, lunch a lack-luster salad, and dinner was something from the vending machines at the office. Certainly not a mountain of cornstarch and syrup. Emily didn’t’ seem deterred in the slightest as she shoved her fork into the bite she had just cut.

“Open.”

It was a demand, not a question, Emily holding up the fork as she watched Aubrey expectantly. The blonde let out a heaving sigh, close to rolling her eyes as she leaned forward and took the bite that Emily so easily offered. She could barely stop the moan that slipped past her lungs, blood rising to her cheeks as she got a triumphant smile in return.

“The secret is the honey in the batter,” Emily wiggled in her seat, letting the fork drop onto the plate as she beamed “Technically it’s mine so I’m biased but-“

She was interrupted by a fit of giggles, her body turning to face Aubrey, almost completely. Emily beamed, covering her mouth to muffle a snort. “What? Seriously?”

“Nothing, it’s just” She leaned forward.

 This moment wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. The chairs that they were sitting in creaked and groaned under their weight. The light in the far corner of the restaurant was buzzing away like the very moths that they attracted. The rain was pressing against the window and blurring the downtown streets. And Aubrey had whipped cream all over her nose.

“Here, let me get it.”

Emily’s touch was soft. Her fingers cold against Aubrey’s cheek as she brushed her thumb easily against the whipped cream on Aubrey’s nose. The sugary substance coated the pad of her finger. She brought it to her lips, licking it clean with a stray smile and a simple shrug.

“Thank you,” Aubrey rasped.

Aubrey Posen believed in a lot of things. The ghost that she saw on the side of the highway in North Carolina. The way her father still sent Christmas cards every other year, still containing blatant wishes and a twenty-dollar bill. How her older brother still laughed at the wrecked jeep that he let her borrow for one night too many.

Most importantly, Aubrey Posen believed in Emily.

The way she would tell the story of how they met for years to come. The box of honey would grow in size and the jars in weight. She would change the small storm outside to a monsoon and the kid in the corner digging into an ice cream Sunday had vanished altogether.

She had bought Emily a bouquet of sunflowers. Then a waffle maker, even a dog. But the most important thing was a ring. A simple gold band with two green stones and a flashing diamond. Because she made Aubrey believe enough to drop down to one knee, to envision a future never imagined.

Yeah, Aubrey Posen believed in a lot of things, but love was not one of them. That is until she met Emily.    

[fourteenacross]

Hey! Do you have any Stranger Things readalikes and/or middle grade & YA horror recs?

I can, in fact, provide that thing!

I could give MG and YA horror recs all day, so I stayed sort of close to the Stranger Things readalikes part of it. 

(All links are to Amazon via the WBS referral code, but buy local if you can, etc.)

Middle GradeThe Riverman by Aaron Starmer - This is a trilogy that takes place in the early 90s. Alistair is approached by a neighbor he hasn’t spoken to since they were younger, who asks him to write her biography. She explains that she is older than he thinks, as she passes time in another reality and has since learned that something from that reality is stealing the souls of children in their world. Creepy coming of age in a similar time period with a similar feel.

Doll Bones by Holly Black - Three friends have been playing the same epic game with their dolls and toys for years. When Zach’s dad tells him he’s too old for dolls and has to start playing boy games, the bone china doll who they cast as the queen of their world is unhappy. Same “kids on a epic quest against evil” vibes.

The Jumbies by Tracey Baptiste - Corinne has never believed in the tales of the jumbies, figuring they were something adults made up to scare kids at night. But after a close encounter in the forbidden part of the forest, a mysterious woman shows up and starts to affect their island. She has to convince her friends to help take down the evil and save their home. Creepy and with that classic “the kids see what the parents don’t” trope.

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs - Jacob grows up hearing fantastic stories of people with strange powers from his grandfather. When his grandfather dies suddenly, he finds himself on a journey to the remote Welsh village where he grew up and stumbles upon a place without time, full of strange and wonderful things, and stalked by an evil only he can see. This one has gr8 pictures, so def do a print or ebook if you can, even though I’m usually a big audio proponent. 

The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart - After answering a strange and vague classified ad looking for gifted children, four kids find themselves in the house of the eccentric Mr. Benedict, who’s training them for a perilous undercover mission to bring down the Learning Institute for the Very Enlightened. Smart kids pitted against a sketchy government institution.

The Witch’s Boy by Kelly Barnhilll - After surviving a rafting accident that kills his more talented twin brother, Ned has been told his whole like that “the wrong boy lived.” Áine, daughter of the Bandit King, was warned by her mother that “the wrong boy” will save her life. When the two meet, they discover it’s up to them to stop a war brewing between two kingdoms and save Ned’s mother’s magic. Read this and then read all the rest of Kelly Barnhill’s books.

Young AdultFiendish by Brenna Yovanoff - Ten years ago, the people of New South Bend decided that the strange things happening in town were the fault of the families living in the Willows and burned their houses down. Clementine was kept alive by magic, walled in the cellar until a boy stumbles upon her and sets her free. Now, with the help of her cousin and her friends, Clementine is determined to figure out what really happened ten years ago and how it’s connected to the magical and terrifying place called The Hollow.

Shadowshaper by Daniel José Older - Sienna planned to spend her whole summer working on a mural in her neighborhood, but after being chased by a mysterious entity at a party, she discovers that she’s a part of something bigger. Her family are shadowshapers, people who can direct spirits into art to make it come alive. But someone wants to see the shadowshapers exterminated, and now Sienna and her friends have to uncover the mystery while fighting for their lives. READ. THIS. SERIES. I LOVE IT. HONESTLY. THE SECOND ONE CAME OUT THIS YEAR.

Wonders of the Invisible World by Christopher Barzak - Aidan’s life is ordinary and unremarkable until his former best friend, Jarrod, moves back to town. That’s when Aiden starts being haunted by visions of the past and visions of the present and things his mind has tried to hide from him. This is a weird, great (queer!) story.

The Walking Dark by Robin Wasserman - On a perfectly mundane day in a small down in Kansas, twelve people are abruptly murdered by friends and family members who then go on to kill themselves. Not long after, a strange tornado cuts the town off from the rest of the world, and as the adults descend into chaos, it’s up to a group of teens–including the sole survivor of the murder/suicides–to figure out exactly what is happening to their town.

Bone Gap by Laura Ruby - Roza was a beautiful outsider who was, against all odds, accepted by a small farming community when she stumbled into town, alone and frightened. The town, then, is devastated when she disappears, none more so than Sean, one of two brothers who had been boarding her. Younger brother Finn claims to have witnessed her abduction, but his lack of helpful evidence has ostracized him even more from the rest of the town, leaving him on his own to put together the clues of what’s happened and why and how to get Roza back. This book is weird and complex and sad and beautiful and magical.

The Forgetting by Sharon Cameron - Every twelve years, the city of Canaan descends into chaos, because every twelve years everyone’s memories are wiped completely clean. You remember nothing��your parents, your children, your spouse–unless it is written down. Except for Nadia. Nadia remembers. So it’s up to her to use her memories to solve the mysteries of the city as the next Forgetting approaches, before everything resets again and it’s too late.

AdultLet the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist - Oskar has spent his life being bullied and mocked by his peers, but a new girl has moved in next door, a girl who seems ignorant of most things in the world, but is brilliant. Around the same time, a string of horrific murders start to rock their small town, and Oskar slowly starts to put the pieces together. This is a terrible description of a great book that has SO MUCH happening in it that it’s hard to describe well. I also recommend the original Swedish movie, which is awesome.

It by Stephen King - Yeah, okay, you probably guessed this one, but there are reasons everyone is making the comparison. Just read the first half, and skip the sex stuff.

The Boy Who Drew Monsters by Keith Donohue - After Jack nearly drowns, he begins to refuse to leave the house, staying inside and drawing terrible monsters. It’s three years later and Jack is ten and strange things are starting to happen, things that are connected to his drawings and what happened to him.

Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury - A strange carnival has come to town and it’s pulling in all of the townsfolk, regardless of age, with the ability to grant their true desires. But it’s not that simple, and there’s something dark at work that takes more than it gives. Two thirteen year old boys, Jim and Will, need to overcome their own fears and desires to defeat the evil within the carnival and save the town and themselves.

Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero - I have to admit, I haven’t read this one yet, though I’ve been on the hold list for an age so hopefully I will soon. But it sounds like it fits–it’s billed as what happens to a group of teens like the Scooby gang twenty years later, when they’re all adults and have mostly left their mystery solving behind. Or mostly left it behind–something about that last mystery is still haunting them and brings them back to their hometown to try and put it to rest once and for all.

ComicsLumberjanes - A great comic about the weird and wacky happenings at a scouting summer camp and the weird and wacky group of girls who run into the trouble head-on.Paper Girls - It’s 1988 and four twelve year old girls are about to stumble on to a mystery that will rock their world.Spill Zone - Three years ago, Poughkeepsie was destroyed by an event that has changed reality within its borders. Addison lost her parents in the event, and now supports her sister by taking illegal late night rides into the closed off area to take photos for collectors. One collector offers her enough money to quit for good, but to fulfill his request, she’ll need to take a risk that may keep her from ever leaving.

[letdecemberburninflames]

Top of Our Class

Chapter 2: First Year

Fic Type: Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter Crossover, (half)Elf!Reader, Slytherin!Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: None (except really freaking long chapters)

You had received your Hogwarts letter just like your parents had told you. You came from a "pureblood" family that was from Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Not that it mattered. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was long gone since he was defeated by the baby; Harry Potter. Even though you were pureblood you were not fully human. Your mother was an Elf from Mirkwood, in Middle Earth, while your father was a wizard, meaning you were half Elf. This wasn't all bad; the Elves had great balance, hand-eye coordination, and light footing, perfect if you played Quidditch. They were also very intelligent and quick-witted.

You were now in Diagon Alley and you had gotten all the things that you needed for school, your parents both bringing you around to all the shops and recalling tales about themselves when they went to Hogwarts.

"Ah, I wonder if the Whomping Willow is still there..." Your father sighed. "Dangerous tree that is, mind you, try to stay away from it Y/N." 

You nodded, H/C hair swinging, only half listening.

"Oh, and don't go near the Forbidden Forest, there are nasty creatures in there." Your mother shuddered, probably thinking about a time that she had gone in as a dare, you had heard that story before.

But you weren't really listening because you had spotted a pet shop, and you were wondering what it would be like to own a pet... Your parents wouldn't let you have one because you weren't old enough, and you were not very responsible yet. Behind your back, your parents share a knowing look, and take a hand each; they had discussed this last night.

"So Y/N, we were thinking..." your mother began, startling you.

"That because you have been so good, and we know that you might get a little bit lonely in Hogwarts..." Your father grinned.

"That maybe, you know if you wanted..." Your mother laughed.

"That it was time for you to get your very own pet!" Your father finished, laughing along at your bewildered expression with your mother.

"Really?" You asked, resisting the urge to jump up and down.

"Really." Your mother confirmed. And you hugged both of them, and began skipping towards the pet shop.

"Okay, so how about an owl?" Your father suggested, but you shook your head.

"A rat or a toad?" Your mother asked, making a face that displayed her dislike for the creatures. You shook your head again.

"A cat," you announced smiling. "I'd like a cat please." And that was how you got the cutest little snowy –white Maine Coon kitten, and you named him Tundra.

---

As you were about to board the Hogwarts Express, you took Tundra out of his carrier, and balanced him in your arms. You knew that he wouldn't run away. He liked and trusted you already. In a matter of weeks you two had become the best of friends. You were walking around, trying to find an empty compartment when you bumped into a boy, whom had a platinum blonde hair and a scowl on his lips.

"Sorry," you said, walking away, not bothering to stay any longer, he seemed like the kind of guy who liked drama and attention, and would start mouthing off at you.

 Tundra hissed at him, and then settled back down in your arms, and you had to suppress a smile at your kitten's antics. You continued to search around for a seat. You quickly found Mary Beth; she was easy to spot with her deep red hair and freckles. You two talked during the train ride, wondering which houses you'd be in. She wanted to be in Ravenclaw, as did you. Her pet was a majestic Barred owl, whom she had named Stella. Stella and Tundra got along very well considering that Tun was a cat and Stella was a bird.

You were so nervous you were almost shaking in your black-leather combat boots. The Sorting Ceremony was taking place and you were standing with the other first-years waiting anxiously. Mary Beth had already been sorted into Ravenclaw, like she wanted. The Great Hall was large and intimidating, but you did your best to look smug and confident. Your father had always told you that if you wanted to feel confident and make people believe you were, you had to look confident. He had been a Slytherin, and you had been taught by him that Muggle-borns where inferior. You had never told him this, but you didn't really care who peoples' parents were, just as long as they proved themselves worthy of the title of wizard. You really would rather be in the house your mother had been in, Ravenclaw. Most of the others had been sorted; you were one of the few still waiting. Professor McGonagall's voice calling your name catches your attention, and you make your way up to the dais to where she was standing.

You sat down tentatively on the stool and she places the Hat on your head and it falls down over your eyes, which are squeezed shut tightly and you hear a gruff voice in your ear, "Ah, there is lots of ambition in here." The Hat chuckled, "Very smart too, you'd do well in Ravenclaw. But very resourceful and loyal, that must be from your father." You felt your shoulders tense. "Kind and hardworking..." "Not Hufflepuff." You nearly groaned out loud. "Very cunning and clever, better be.....SLYTHERIN!"

You nearly fell off your stool at the thunderous applause from the table clad in green as McGonagall took the Sorting Hat off your head. You slipped off the stool and made a beeline for the Slytherin table, and you looked cautiously at the students as you walked. They all looked a little bit scary. You sat down, and you were sitting beside the boy that you had bumped into you earlier.

"You're the girl that bumped into me on the train, and your cat hissed at me." He said, stating the obvious.

"I said that I was sorry," You sighed. "And I'm not responsible for the fact that my cat doesn't like you." You pick up a glass of pumpkin juice, E/C eyes flashing with laughter.

"I know you said sorry," he said indignantly. "I was just saying that I recognized you."

"Well, in that case, I recognize you too." You answered, rolling your eyes. Conversation ceased after that.

When you got up to leave the Great Hall you find the blond boy with his two large friends blocking the exit.

"Going somewhere?"

"Tell your friends to get out of my way," you reply icily, "because I don't have the time to waste explaining to them how to walk." He pulls out his wand.

"Make me." He replies with a smirk. You too draw your wand, but before either of you can conjure a spell Professor McGonagall strides up, looking furious.

"It is not even the first day of school, and I will not have students dueling in the corridors! Detention, Mr. Malfoy and Miss L/N! I will see you both in my office Monday evening. And bring swimsuits. "

You groan as you put your wand away, the last thing you need is detention with this idiot. School hadn't even started yet and you were already in trouble. You had wanted to be in Ravenclaw, but this and your stubborn and persistent attitude was probably why you were in Slytherin.

---

When the day came for your detention you marched right up to McGonagall's office your amethyst-colored swimsuit hidden beneath your robes, and to your dismay, Malfoy was already there.

"Have a seat Miss L/N." She said, gesturing to a chair next to Malfoy, who was smirking up at you. You glare at down him, but sit down without setting fire to his robes. You tended to do stuff like that on accident when you were angry. Once when you were little you threw a tantrum because you didn't want to come in from swimming. You had accidentally on purpose caused a tidal wave that would have destroyed the house hadn't your father stopped it.

"As you have not committed a serious offense you shall not have a hard punishment. However, do not expect it to be easy. You will both be retrieving Gillyweed from the bottom of the lake."

"But Professor, that's servant's stuff! You can't really expect students to go down there and..." Malfoy broke of midsentence when Professor McGonagall fixed him with a stare that could wilt a flower. You roll your eyes. Typical. "When my father hears about this he'll..."

"Well my father would say that you deserved what you got you unpleasant little slimeball!" you interrupt. "We both did, though I wouldn't be in here if it wasn't for you, so why don't you shut up!"

"Sit down Miss L/N, and three points from Slytherin for your rudeness!" And with that she stood up and walked towards the door. "Follow me." Was all she said.

When you reached the lake she turns and hands you each a cloth bag, a knife, and some sort of leafy substance. "The plant I gave you is Gillyweed." She says, "You will swallow it and it will give you the ability to breathe underwater for an hour. Within that hour however, you will be collecting more Gillyweed, which can be found near the center of the bottom of the lake. You will put the Gillyweed in your bags once you have cut it near the roots with your knife. You may not, and I repeat, may not use magic. Well, what are you waiting for? Get going! Return to my office after you have finished." And with that she turned and walked back towards the castle.

"Thanks a lot Malfoy. I could have been doing that potions essay Snape assigned us, but instead I'm stuck here with you." You glare at him as you slip off your robes and dive into the water. Malfoy follows suite.

"I can't believe we have to eat this." He says, looking down at the Gillyweed in his hand.

With that you swallow the plant and instantly feel gills form on the sides of your throat. You gasp for breath and dunk your head back underwater; finding that you can breathe just fine. You start swimming in the direction McGonagall told you to, with Malfoy struggling to catch up, you were a natural swimmer from all your practice in the ocean near your house. In a while you see the place Professor was talking about, and you dive down to collect the seaweed-y plant. It was a bit chilly down here, and you wished you had left your outer robe on.

You and Malfoy worked on opposite sides of the forest, avoiding each other as much as possible. Suddenly you feel your lungs constricting. You gasp for air and only get a mouthful of water. You start to swim as fast as you can back up to the surface, and you barely register Malfoy behind you. You take another unsuccessful breath, and know that the Gillyweed has run out before you could reach the surface, your lungs feel like they are going to explode. You see Malfoy streak past you and know that you couldn't let him get through detention when it was his fault you were there in the first place. With the last bit of your strength you swim as hard as you can and emerge gasping for breath above the surface while Malfoy, who was treading water nearby laughed. You turn quickly, a glare on your face.

"I could have died and all you would have done was stay there and laugh!" You swim furiously back to shore, with him behind you, still laughing.

---

You spent your days at Hogwarts making friends with everyone. Most people were taken aback and suspicious of your friendliness seeing as you were in Slytherin, but there was nothing malicious about it. You were simply a very rare nice Slytherin. However, you were usually only friends with the people who didn't judge you too quickly. You were even on speaking terms with Draco Malfoy, the blonde guy that you bumped into on the train and ended up in detention with. You didn't like him very much as he wasn't very nice, and acted like he was better than everybody else with his lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle.

---

One day while you were finishing a Transfiguration essay a girl with long honey-brown hair and green eyes walks up to you.

"Hello, I'm Molly; it's nice to meet you. My friend told me to come find you if I ever needed help with Potions homework, she says. "Professor Snape is always going on about your talent for the subject." She smiles shyly at you. You can tell from her robes that she is a Hufflepuff.

"Um, sure sit down." You say.

"Thank you so much."

You look down at her antidotes essay paper and begin to help her. After a short while it became very evident that Molly was very smart and that she understood the material perfectly, she just didn't understand Golpalott's Third Law, the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components. After you had thoroughly explained this to her in a less complicated way, so as she understood it, she could finish her essay easily.

"Thank you so very much for helping me." She said. "I've never met a nice Slytherin before."

"Yeah, well I only help those who are willing to listen and take over once they get it. I don't do people's work for them."

"That is both admirable and understandable." She smiled. "Do you want to have lunch with me tomorrow out by the forest?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll meet you there."

The next day while you were eating lunch with Molly a Gryffindor girl with dirty-blonde hair sat down next to her.

"Excuse me, but I don't recall you being invited." You snap, looking up from your sandwich. "Yeah, well I'm Molly's friend too. Besides, I brought dessert." You raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"It's not poisoned is it?"

"Of course not. Why in the blazes would I do that?" she asked.

"Because you are a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin."

"Oh, so you're a Slytherin. That would explain the basilisk-like demeanor." She flicked a beetle casually off her robes. "I'm Emma Hawkinson, the one who told Molly to go get help from you for Potions." She turned towards Molly. "Though I'm surprised you're alive after an encounter with the "Princess of Slytherin" here."

"Yes, well you obviously haven't encountered many Slytherins then because I'm positively tame compared to Millicent Bulstrode." You glare across at Emma, who had sat down on the other side of Molly. "I just don't like people who judge others based on their house. Besides, not all Hufflepuffs are nice, not all Ravenclaws are geniuses, and not all Gryffindors are brave." Emma glances at you.

"You've got a point. Here, I brought cookies. Do you want Chocolate Chip, Sugar, or White Chip Macadamia Nut?"

"Macadamia nut, thanks." You puff a strand of sandy blonde out of your eyes as she hands you your cookie.

"You play Quidditch, princess?" Emma asks, mouth full of cookie.

"Of course. I want a better broom though; I've got a Cleansweep 6." You say, ignoring the veiled insult. "My mum thinks it's horribly dangerous and doesn't want me to play at all, the broom I have my Grandfather gave me when I was seven." You smile, thinking of how happy you were when you received that present.

"Yeah, I love Quidditch." Emma says. "My dad thinks it's great, we go see all the games we can."

"Right. Well I guess I'll see you around." You say, standing up and brushing yourself off. "I have a Herbology class I need to get to." And you take off for the greenhouses.

---

On the train you sat with Molly and Emma, you three had become fast friends. Once you and Emma had gotten to know each other better you started being nicer to each other. Well, kind of. She still called you "Princess", but you always had a good comeback anyway, so it didn't matter. Emma and Mary Beth already knew each other, and Molly got along with her very well. While getting off at Platform 9 and three-quarters, you once again, bumped into Draco Malfoy, and once again, Tundra hissed at him furiously.

"I see your cat still hates me." He said, stepping back with a glare, from Tundra who was standing up in your arms, and digging his claws into your skin. You tried to ignore the pain that your cat was causing you, by giving Draco a strained smile.

"Yeah, I'd say he was like that with everyone, but it's just you in particular." You smirk, tossing your head of H/C hair.

"Here," Draco held out his hands. "Let him claw at me so he'll stop hurting you." You looked at him astonished.

"So what? You can say that I let my cat attack you?" You were immediately suspicious, but Tundra just leapt into his arms, hissing. You and Draco waited for him to start biting and clawing, but he gave Draco a look, and lay down in his arms.

"No," Draco said finally. "I didn't like how he was hurting you." You looked at him curiously.

"I think you earned my cat's respect," and with that you picked up Tundra and put him into his carrier. "Thank you." And you walked off the train. Maybe, just maybe, Draco Malfoy wasn't as bad as he seemed...

[ciathyzareposts]

Lords of Bedtime

The game requires sleep but at least offers several types of locations where you can sleep.

         This entry represents an accomplishment that many people wouldn’t see as much of an accomplishment. I’m writing it on 18 January and scheduling it to post on 22 January, which means that I’ve managed to keep my blog on schedule for the entire duration of my two-week Caribbean cruise. This hasn’t been easy, what with inadequate Internet access most of the time, lack of a second monitor, uncomfortable places to work and play, and of course Irene constantly urging me to “do” something other than sit on the balcony with my laptop. On the positive side, I’ve been able to visit, for the first time, many of the very forts that I sacked in Pirates! 

I may have conveyed this in previous postings, but I’m a total wuss when it comes to international traveling, despite (or, perhaps, because of) how much of it I do. I get annoyed swiftly with the lack of my usual comforts. For instance, when I’m in the United States, and before 17:00, it’s a rare moment that I don’t have a cold bottle of Diet Coke within reach–a bottle, mind you, not a can. In the U.S., I depend on the excessive availability of vending machines and convenience stores, many open 24 hours, to supply this need. I find that such stores don’t exist, or are not convenient, or are not always open, when abroad. I don’t understand this fad for “body wash” that European hotels seem to have embraced, but I use bar soap, thank you. I don’t pack carefully, and I need an iron and ironing board each day.           

I’m going to be rambling for a while, so here’s a shot of my character being chased by a dwarf on Wyvern Mountain.

          I have a friend named Eli who will happily grab a backpack, fly to a place like Indonesia with $50 in his pocket, and somehow have a great week. I absolutely cannot do that. I haven’t not showered in the morning since I was 9. I don’t wear clothes two days in a row. I don’t sleep in communal rooms or on other people’s couches. I’d rather pay for a hotel room for the night and use it for 20 minutes than use a public toilet. These types of frailties are a bit limiting when traveling. If I get too far afield, I start to worry where I’m going to find my next drink, pillow, and clean restroom. (It really says something that on a cruise, when you’re only in port for one day and you know exactly where you’ll be sleeping that night, I spent half the time on each island anxiously looking around and saying, “Doesn’t this place have any 7-Elevens?”) Sometimes I wish I could be more like Eli, who will get off a boat and stalk off towards the nearest mountain range, not worrying how, when, or in what condition he’ll return.

By way of tortured segue, those needs are somewhat mirrored in Lords of Time and its predecessor, Faery Tale Adventure. The need for food and sleep put a functional limit on how long you can adventure and how far afield you can go. If you don’t find a bed every 24 hours, your magic points drain away, and then your hit points. (Faery Tale Adventure would just have you collapse on the ground if you got too tired, but given the frequency with which monsters spawn, that would be a death sentence here.) A similar fate befalls you if you fail to eat a couple of meals a day.             

I think if I found myself in a medieval world, I’d be grateful enough for inns with beds.

          I can’t say that I find the need for food and sleep particularly desirable aspects of an RPG, but if it’s going to be done, I guess I’d prefer the way it’s done here. First, it’s somewhat “realistic” in both the availability of these resources and the time intervals that you need them. Second, they provide a logistical challenge, but it’s one that’s more of timing than one of supply. By this, I mean that beds are plentiful if you know where to look (inns, private homes, occasional “resting stations”), and food is cheap at stores and free if you can find an apple tree. This isn’t like Ultima II where (until you learn how to shoplift) you’re constantly killing creatures just to be able to afford food, and it’s not like Rogue, where the hunger system punishes you for taking your time. It’s more–and this similarity would have occurred to me no matter how I began this entry–like Pirates!, where you leave one port with not just a destination in mind, but a route that will ensure you maintain your supplies. In a modern game, I think Fallout 4 in survival mode also does this very well: food and sleep aren’t so rare and precious that they dominate gameplay, but neither are they so inconsequential that you wonder why the developers introduced the dynamic in the first place.

That’s a positive aspect of Lords of Time. Let’s talk about a negative: open exploration is basically ruined by the relentless spawning of monsters. It’s brutal. If you leave the game unattended for 15 seconds without pausing, you’ll be dead when you next look at the screen. When I decide I need to go to a particular place, I’m not so much walking in that direction as constantly fleeing monsters in that direction. “Fleeing” because even at this point in the game, with over 100 maximum hit points, training in both basic intermediate swordplay, enhanced statistics, plate mail armor, a broadsword, and a healing spell, I still can’t win more than five or six consecutive battles before my hit points get so low I have to recharge. The game will gladly hand you five or six consecutive battles in about 30 seconds if you’re not always on the move.              

Walking along water makes it easier to see enemies approach–and avoid them.

                Meanwhile, the interiors of the game make it very difficult to run away from monsters. Negotiating thick clusters of trees and bushes is nearly impossible, although the monsters get through them with unerring pathfinding. Thus, I’ve learned to follow coastal and river routes to most destinations. When I have to fight, doing so while wading in water makes it easier to control my position relative to the enemies. It’s harder when foliage is constantly blocking your view.

You may recall that shortly after my character’s arrival in The Realm, he was summoned to meet with the king, who I later learned is named Tanor. The king said to get home, I’d need help from one of two archwizards, Bessak or Kruel, and that of the two, Bessak was most likely to help. I found Bessak’s keep in the middle of the Dark Forest, but I couldn’t open the door. I suspected that a woman in Murkvale had the key to the keep around her neck.

Commenters helped me with the solution: to buy an orange sleeping potion in Murkvale, dump it in a mug of ale, and offer it to the woman. I wasn’t prepared for this level of complexity in inventory interactions or this type of adventure-style puzzle, so I appreciate the hints. I was more alert for such possibilities in later gameplay.            

Hey, it’s a medieval society.

             When she was asleep, I was able to take the key, and it did turn out to offer me an entrance to Bessak’s keep. Like most locations in the game, it was large but mostly empty. Bessak himself was nowhere to be found. Instead, I found a journal in which he noted that “Kruel has pushed me too far,” and that he intended to destroy Kruel “with the help of the Druids and their Spell of Annulment.”            

I think the second “throne” belonged to the woman in the bar. I wonder why she thinks Bessak is dead.

           The Druid Temple is a short walk from Bessak’s keep. I had previously visited but couldn’t figure out how to get in. This time, I tried harder and found a maze around back. It took a while to navigate it, but when I emerged, I was in the interior of the temple.            

I should draw this so I don’t have to figure it out by trial-and-error every time.

         The multi-columned temple was quite large but mostly empty. The only thing I found was a set of stairs leading up to a kind of altar with four braziers in the corners. The altar seemed to block a staircase going downwards.

I had an idea of what to do from a book in the Castleguard library, which said that four plants are sacred to the Druids: mountain shrub, willow, maple, and spruce. Assuming I’d have to do something with them at some point, I had spent some time walking up to each of these trees and choosing “pick a small branch from the tree” from the contextual menu. (I ended up with a lot of spruce because it has several appearances; the other three trees only have one each. Mountain shrub is particularly rare.) Thus, when I arrived at the Temple, I already had one sprig of each. I put one in each brazier, and the game told me that the braziers began burning the twigs.

Unfortunately, nothing happened. I tried different configurations of plant to brazier but still nothing happened. Thinking that timing might be important, I tried it at different times of day (including midnight, which becomes important below), still to no avail.           

None of this worked.

           Stuck again, I began exploring and re-exploring the map, looking for more adventures and hints. Among my discoveries and accomplishments:              

At an armor shop, I decided “what the hell” and gave it a try and managed to shoplift a full set of plate mail on my first attempt and a two-handed sword on my second attempt. Unfortunately, I failed the next three attempts for much less valuable stuff, and I got sick of reloading, so my shoplifting career came to an end.

There are several caverns on Wyvern Mountain. None of them were occupied by wyverns, but some of them had wyvern nests and, within them, wyvern eggs. Shortly after grabbing a couple of those eggs, I started getting dive-bombed by flying creatures that toss rocks at me from above. I assume these are wyverns, and that their appearance was triggered by my pilfering.

            This was perhaps a bad idea.

         One of the caves on “Wyvern” Mountain led to a dragon. He awoke and killed me with one breath. I assume I’ll have to deal with him later, and I wonder if it will involve the “Dragonsbane” plant I’ve been finding on some mountains.

            This is a reasonably well-drawn dragon.

           I made it to the hall of the “Dwarven High King” on the northwest part of the map, but a guard wouldn’t let me in.

            I assume I’ll be back later.

         I also found “Lord Dervak’s Holde” but couldn’t get through the front door.

In the Dwarven Mines, as a commenter pointed out, pick-axes will remove embedded jewels. These sell for about 25 gold pieces.

            The dwarves still won’t talk with me, even though I learned their language.

           Throughout these adventures, my character development has been steady, in several ways. First, you “level” behind the scenes at experience point thresholds, increasing your maximum health and spell points, and occasionally increasing an attribute or two.

Second, I was able to take most of the courses offered at the guilds in Murkvale and Castleguard. Some of them have experience point requirements that are still beyond me, but over these six hours, and between the two locations, I got “Intermediate Lockpicking” (I had taken basic last time), “Intermediate Spellcasting,”  “Potion Identification,” “Shoplifting,” “Personal Money Management,” “Weather Control,” “Traps,” “Dwarven Language,” “Dealing with Stress,” and “Fighting Dragons.” I think some of the courses were valuable for hidden attributes that they improve, but others were valuable mostly for the information conveyed right on the screen.            

Others . . . I’m not sure what use they were.

          I had been picking up spells called “Ability Enhancement,” but I wasn’t capable of casting them until I got “Intermediate Spellcasting” and at least 100 spell points. I chose to enhance strength with all three iterations of the spell, because I had been sick of messages that said I wasn’t strong enough to wield various weapons. Thanks to the spells, I was able to finally wield the broadsword that I stole. I’m still too weak for the two-handed sword. It must be said, though, that I haven’t noticed either sword or armor upgrades making combat particularly easier.           

“Enhancing your attributes” sounds less creepy in an RPG than in real life.

           Miscellaneous notes:           

The Riverside Inn lies south of Castleguard and is “fortified for your protection” with a wall around it. That’s a bit of a hoot since enemies spawn without any problem inside walls.

There are wells in a lot of places, but most of them just seem to make you sick. If you find one with good water, you can fill canteens, but since water isn’t a requirement (unlike food), I’m not sure what use this is.

Spiders poisoning me are still an automatic reload. This far into the game, I don’t have a “cure poison” spell.

“Fistak’s Magical Mapping Spell,” which I picked up somewhere, makes a little mini-map of the environment. This makes it much easier to find buildings and other important areas.

              A map shows the location of nearby rivers and mountains.

          Some kind of sea dragon started appearing as an enemy, but they’re limited to bodies of water and wander off if the character is on land.

From entering Bessak’s, my “score” went up to 10/190.

Given the number of times I’ve needed to enter the castle, I’m getting sick of guards challenging me every single time.

          Oh, come on! I just want to sleep.

        In all my explorations, I had trouble finding any hints about the next steps–until I decided to systematically tip bartenders. As an old Ultima player, I should have realized this would be important. Bartenders offer different hints at different tip thresholds, and I had only been getting the lowest tier. 

From them, and a couple of NPCs, I learned that Kruel used to be Bessak’s protege, and that Bessak has long sought the Druid Book of Life. (I assume if I ever meet him, that will be some kind of sub-quest.) The bartender in Murkvale told me that an old wizardess in the Great Swamp knows something about the Druid Temple.

The Great Swamp wasn’t on the game map, but I figured it might have something to do with the archipelago at the river delta southeast of Murkvale, and I was right. In fact, there was a whole community in those islands that I’d overlooked, including another potion shop and a second library.

           Information from the second library. I wonder if everyone in The Realm crashed test planes.

           The wizardess in question gave me a little verse:

When the moon is blue

And four twigs on four altars lie

Admittance will be gained by you

Under the midnight sky

               Reminder: poetry is about meter as much as rhyme.

            This agreed with what the bartender had told me (in another tip) about the Druids “all excited over an upcoming set of blue moons.” This is great except I have no idea how to tell when the moon is blue. Nothing in the game tells me anything about the status of the moon. (I don’t know; does the symbol above the health meter have something to do with the moon? If so, it always looks blue to me.) I don’t even know if the term refers to the color of the moon or the second appearance of the full moon within a month.

I don’t want to have to keep showing up at the temple (and navigating that damned maze) every night until the right night comes along, especially since a nighttime expedition takes some planning. You have to try to sleep into the afternoon so you don’t get tired after dusk, and thus run out of steam completely before morning. I’ll be glad for hints, but barring that, my plan is to revisit the spell stores and make sure there isn’t something magical that’s supposed to tell me the moon’s status.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/lords-of-bedtime/

[jtsternberg]

In late February, thanks to some nudging from my kids (and a slight case of Spring Fever), we decided it was high-time our backyard had a tree house. Our yard has a large number of tree-house-ready trees, so we actually struggled over which location would be best.

In the end, we decided the best place would be nestled between a live oak and willow oak, just inside the fence. Not only is the location perfect, with 3 large trunks/branches to support it, but being within the fence line, it helps prevent neighbor kids from coming over and hanging out on the tree house. Not that I wouldn’t be happy about that, but there’s a certain liability that comes along with prospect.

Building this has been one of the most therapeutic and rewarding things I’ve built (I’ve built a few things). If you’re contemplating doing something similar, my advice is go for it, because you (and your kids) only live once!

To get started, I read a lot about some of the basics of building a tree house. E.g. what size boards should be used depending on the distance being spanned, what type of fasteners to use, how to make things level against an organic surface, etc. I also bought this awesome little book. It’s full of awesome little tidbits and illustrations. While not meant to be a complete how-to, it provided plenty of light bulb moments and inspiration. Highly recommended.

I started construction February 25 (2017), and after a weekend and some help from friends/family, I had a basic platform installed with floor joists.

Hard to go inside when the treehouse project is waiting for me.

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Feb 27, 2017 at 9:40am PST

Another angle on that treehouse while I wait for Saturday to get here.

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Mar 1, 2017 at 8:07pm PST

Since I am a web developer by day, it feels super good to get outside and work with my hands (and some power tools!).

Oh yeah. #treehousemaster #rockstarmanofmine

A post shared by Meagan Sternberg (@meagansternberg) on Mar 4, 2017 at 5:07pm PST

As much as possible throughout this project, I tried to use reclaimed wood. In that platform, the joists are all new pressure treated 2x6s and hung with joist hangers, and the longest span (in the picture above) is a new pressure treated 2×10. But the other side’s 2×10 is a leftover from our old water-bed (yep, you heard me right), and the two side 2x6s are leftover frames from an old bunk bed that we never used for the kids that we got from some garage sale.

To fasten the boards to the tree, I used 4 or 5 inch lag screws and washers.

The next weekend was spent working out some details, like corner braces, angle braces, and corner beams for the eventual hand-rails.

All. Day. Long. #buildinghisoffice #treehouse #thekidswillhavetoshare

A post shared by Meagan Sternberg (@meagansternberg) on Mar 4, 2017 at 5:09pm PST

Much of the braces are boards from pallets that we scrounged up (the final project probably has about 5-8 pallets in it), and the corner 4x4s were used to hold up an old lattice divider in the yard (the lattice has been gone/destroyed for quite a while).

Here’s a redneck stunt I pulled to get some of those pallets:

https://twitter.com/Jtsternberg/status/843524866804465665

(I need a truck!)

By the end of weekend 2, we had half a floor!

We've got half a floor! Just need to find some more pallets.

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Mar 4, 2017 at 4:28pm PST

As you can see, we also used boards from pallets for the tree house floor.

The next weekend, the first order of business was to finish the floor so the kids could come up and check it out. 😁

And they are up there! #mommycantlook #treehouse

A post shared by Meagan Sternberg (@meagansternberg) on Mar 11, 2017 at 6:41pm PST

Time was limited that weekend, so I had to wait another week before I could start adding the hand-rail. Took me a bit to sort out how I wanted that to look. I didn’t want to have too many boards to obstruct the views (I wanted the tree house to feel open), so I left about a 6 inch gap between each board.

Well, it turns out my son can fit his head through that gap, and so Meagan was having none of that. So, back to the drawing board, and I had to add some lateral boards to make sure nobody was gonna be squeezing out. As you can see below, we took this opportunity to add a little flair and make it look like an authentic kid-built tree house (I mean.. I am just a big kid, so it’s pretty accurate).

We let our kids, their cousins, and some of their friends paint their names and other things on a few boards, and nailed ’em on!

Friends make a treehouse a home.

A post shared by Meagan Sternberg (@meagansternberg) on Mar 19, 2017 at 5:38pm PDT

#happyface #treehouse #myohmia

A post shared by Meagan Sternberg (@meagansternberg) on Mar 19, 2017 at 5:36pm PDT

Boys working hard. #treehousemasters #gettingsoclose

A post shared by Meagan Sternberg (@meagansternberg) on Mar 19, 2017 at 5:35pm PDT

Another end to a successful weekend.

Becoming habitable! Thanks to @wy_and_jen and @perryjack5 for all your help today! We'll make sure you guys get permanent all-family passes.

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Mar 19, 2017 at 5:59pm PDT

The next weekend, we finalized the other 2 sides (minus the door). We got a little creative with those sides to try and work with the trees’ structures.

All sides are up! Now… how to get up there… 🌳🏗

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Mar 27, 2017 at 6:18am PDT

This is the point where I consider the top “habitable” and began working from the tree house.

https://twitter.com/Jtsternberg/status/846430312578109440

https://twitter.com/Jtsternberg/status/846781571030007808

Of course, some people had fun with this.

https://twitter.com/d_espi/status/846783542797520897

https://twitter.com/d_espi/status/846809173589458944

The next step was to build the door/gate. I used a gate latch and built a crude rope/pulley mechanism that allows the kids to open the latch from below the door. I posted a video at the end where you can get a general idea.

Once that floor was complete, it was time to begin construction of the first level, half-way up. I wasn’t sure I was going to go that route, but once the main part was complete, it just seemed like the best way to go.. It would provide a bit of a safety net on the side where the kids would climbing in/out of the top, and allow them to have multiple levels to their “tree condo”.

Multi-level tree condominium 😜

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Apr 14, 2017 at 7:02pm PDT

At first, I attempted build the platform without adding the additional 4×4 supports on the outer corners, hoping the angle braces would be enough. Unfortunately, they didn’t provide enough structural shear-strength, so I had to dig some holes, pour some cement and install some ground-rated 4x4s. Once those were in place, the platform structure was as solid as a rock.

We then got the sides built:

About ready for some summer adventures.

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Apr 17, 2017 at 6:15am PDT

At this point, the only thing missing is the ladders. Surprisingly, building these was some of the most difficult work in the whole process.

This ladder was super fun to make. It's an interesting challenge to cut in half round-ish raw logs from your yard without a proper table saw.

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on Apr 30, 2017 at 5:01am PDT

I like to think this place is a little magical. Also, final ladder is complete.

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on May 8, 2017 at 4:14pm PDT

Phew! This has been a ton of (fun!) work. Happy to see it come together. Here’s a quick video tour:

Turbo Treehouse Tour

A post shared by Justin Sternberg (@jtsternberg) on May 8, 2017 at 3:55pm PDT

You might be wondering, “what’s next”. Well, the grandparents purchased a tube slide as an early birthday/Christmas type of gift (ssshhh they don’t know yet), so we’ll see about installing that once it gets in. 😁 The adventure never ends! Thanks for hanging with me this far. If you’re interested, page 2 of this post is a big gallery of images from the process. Hope you enjoyed!

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The Treehouse Adventures In late February, thanks to some nudging from my kids (and a slight case of Spring Fever), we decided it was high-time our backyard had a tree house.

[dailyliving]

Sonata at Payne Hollow by Wendell Berry

The Kentucky shore of the Ohio at evening. Some time in the future, perhaps a saner time than now. It is the season when the toads mate and sing from the stones along the water’s edge at night. Here the river has curved in close to the foot of a steep hillside. The slope is wooded with tall trees. A fringe of willows along the shoreline opens to give a view up among the larger trunks. During the play, the light slowly changes from twilight to dusk. Two boatmen, a man past middle age and a boy of about fifteen, come ashore. They may be small-time traders who row of drift from one river town to another. Their johnboat, the bow of which is visible to our right, is of the traditional make, built of wood. A rope is attached to a ring in the bow. The boy carries the end of the rope up the shore and makes it fast to a willow. He then stands and looks around. . The Boy: We never stopped here before. The Man: Night never caught us here before. But look. There is the notch is the hill, and there is the creek coming down, and here are the rocks it has brought and shaped in a little bar fanned out on the river’s edge. You’ve heard of this place. Up yonder on the slope is where they lived and made their music, in a house built of rocks and poles and rough planks and pieces of drift from the river. The Boy: Who were they? Tell me again. The Man: Their names were Harlan and Anna. A long time ago they came here, past the middle of their lives, to love until they were old. They were refugees from that violent world of our ancestors that nearly destroyed itself. They wanted a quiet place that was dark at night, unwanted by other people, where they could grow their food or catch or find it, and be warmed by firewood burning on a hearth they made of rocks carried up from the river or the creek. Harlan, they say, made pictures of the river and the trees and little farms that stood along the valley sides. And he and Anna made fine music in the evenings with his fiddle and her piano. Up there is where their house was, and there the little shop where he made the pictures, and there the shed where they kept their goats. The Boy: And that was long ago? The Man: Long ago. The boards of their building now are gone to dust, and trees are standing where they played and ate and slept. The Boy: What became of them? The Man: They got old, and died. And yonder, below the chimney stones is where they were laid to rest – or not, maybe, to rest. For there’s them that tells of being here at night, and hearing that old music strike up sudden in the woods, and seeing those two ancient lovers walking about, talking. The Boy: Oh, Lord! Talking! What do they say? The Man: They talk of what they could not talk about enough while they were here, like all ghosts do. The Boy: If it was up to me to choose, I’d just as soon be someplace else. Your talk is talk enough for me. The Man: It’s them. You needn’t be afraid. We’re not where they are. The Boy: But they’re where we are. The Man: Be still! . Now, as from far off among the trees, we hear a piano and violin – perhaps it is Mozart’s Sonata in E-flat Major. The piano is played with elegance and technical precision. The quality of the violin, by contrast, is “honest and handmade” but “strikes deep.” The sound of the toads has ceased. The music, at first only faintly audible, becomes louder. Now there can be no doubt what it is. The man and boy stand still, listening, the boy looking a little anxiously at the man. Now, slowly, candlelight defines a large window among the trees well up the slope. And now, with the light fading off the boatman and his boy, the figure of a slender, white-haired old man is revealed, standing by the river’s edge upstream. We have not seen him come; he is just there, perhaps having been there for some time. He stands, facing upstream, his left side to the river and to us, looking out across the slowly darkening water. The knuckles of his half-open left hand rest against his hip. And now the light defines the shape of an old woman walking among the trees. She crosses above the old man and comes slowly down to the water’s edge, where she too stands still, looking out, her left hand holding to a small willow. She faces downstream, her right side to us. Except for the music, the scene becomes completely still. The stillness is allowed to establish itself before Anna speaks. In the dialogue that follows, the differences are expressed with feeling, but not with antipathy or anger. What we are witnessing is a ritual of courtship, discord reenacted as for pleasure, the outcome foreknown. Perhaps it has been repeated countless times before. . Anna: There you are, Harlan. I've called and called. What are you doing? Harlan: Looking. Anna: At what? Harlan: The river. Anna: You've never seen enough, have you, of that river you looked at all your life? Harlan: It never does anything twice. It needs forever to be in all its times and aspects and acts. To know it in time is only to begin to know it. To paint it, you must show it as less than it is. That is why as a painter I never was at rest. Now I look and do not paint. This is the heaven of a painter - only to look, to see without limit. It's as if a poet finally were free to say only the simplest things. . For a moment they are still again, both continuing to look, in opposite directions, at the river. . Anna: That is our music, Harlan. Do you hear it? Harlan: Yes, I hear. Anna: I think it will always be here. It draws us back out of eternity as once it drew us together in time. Do you remember, Harlan, how we played? And how, in playing, we no longer needed to say what we needed to say? Harlan: I'm listening. But I heard here too, remember, another music, farther off, more solitary, closer - Anna: To what, Harlan? Harlan: I'm not so sure I ever know. Closer to the edge of modern life, I suppose - to where the life of living things actually is lived; closer to the beauty that saves and consoles this earth. I wanted to spend whole days watching the little fish that flicker along the shore. Anna: Yes. I know you did. Harlan: I wanted to watch, every morning forever, the world shape itself again out of the drifting fog. Anna: Your music, then, was it in those things? Harlan: It was in them and beyond them, always almost out of hearing. Anna: Because of it you made the beautiful things you made, for yourself alone, and yet, I think, for us both. You made them for us both, as for yourself, for what we were together required those things of you alone. Harlan: To hear that music, I needed to be alone and free. Anna: Free, Harlan? Harlan: I longed for the perfection of the single one. When the river rose and the current fled by, I longed to cast myself adrift, to take that long, free downward-flowing as my own. I know the longing of an old rooted tree to lean down upon the water. Anna: I know that. I knew that all along. And then was when I loved you most. What brought me to you was knowing the long, solitary journey that was you, yourself - the thought of you in a little boat, adrift and free. But, Harlan, why did you never go? Why did you not just drift away, solitary and free, living on the free charity of the seasons, wintering in caves as sometimes you said you'd like to do? Harlan: Oh, Anna, because I was lonely! The perfection of the single one is not perfection, for it is lonely. Anna: From longing for the perfection of the single one, I called you into longing for the perfection of the union of two. Harlan: which also was imperfect, for we were not always at one, and I never ceased, quite, too long for solitude. Anna: And yet, of the two imperfections, the imperfection of the union of two is by far the greater and finer - as we understood. Harlan: Yes, my dear, Anna, that I too understood. It is better, granting imperfection in both ways, to be imperfect and together than to be imperfect and alone. Anna: And so this is the heaven of lovers that we have come to - to live again in our separateness, so that we may live again together, my Harlan. Harlan: And so we named a day - remember? - and a certain train that you would be on if you wanted to marry me. Anna: and that you would be on if you wanted to marry me. Both: and both of us were on that train! Anna: And then, Harlan, we did drift away Harlan: on a little boat we built ourselves, that contained hardly more than our music, our stove, our table, and our bed Anna: in which we slept - and did not sleep - Harlan: my birthplace into our new life! Anna: For a long time we had no home but that little boat and one another Harlan: and the music that we sent forth over the water and into the woods. Anna: And then we came here to this hollow and built a house and made a garden Harlan: and gave our life a standing place and worked and played and lived and died Anna: and were alone and were not alone. Harlan: Alone and not alone, we lived and died, and after your death I lived on alone, yet not alone, for in my thoughts I never ceased to speak with you. I knew then that half my music was hidden away in another world. The music I had heard, so distant, had been the music you and I had played - the music of something almost whole that you and I had made; it made one thing of food and hunger, work and rest, day and night. It made one thing of loneliness and love. That music seemed another world to me, and far away, because I could play only half, not all. Anna: And half the life that you so longed to live - was mine? Harlan: Was yours. Without you, I could not live the life we lived, which I then missed and longed for, even in my perfect solitude. Anna: You will forgive, I hope, my pleasure in the thought of you alone, playing half a duet - for also it saddens me. Harlan: You would have laughed, Anna, to hear how badly I played alone, without your strong art to carry me. My perfect music then was made by crickets and katydids and frogs. I heard too the creek always coming down, allegro furioso after storms, and of course the birds - the wood thrush, whose song in summer twilight renews the world, and in all seasons the wren. But those unceasing voices in the dark were the ones that sang for me, and I was thankful for the loneliness that had brought us two together out of all the time we were apart. . And now, as both have known they would, they turn toward one another, and thus are changed, revealing themselves now as neither young not old, but timeless and clear, as each appears within the long affection of the other. With this (their only movement since their conversation began), the light no them brightens and changes; it becomes, for only a moment, the brilliance of a spring morning, and on the slope, where before only the candlelit window showed among the trees, now appears the house as it was, with a garden on the terrace below, Harlan and Anna smile and lift their arms toward one another. And then they and the light abruptly disappear. The music stops. The trilling of the toads is audible again, and we see the boatman and his boy looking up the darkening hillside. The boy turns toward the man and is preparing to speak when the stage goes entirely dark. The toads sing on another moment, and then are silenced. . Production note: The left side of Harlan’s face and the right side of Anna’s are made up to appear old. The opposite sides of their faces should denote, not youth, but the youthful maturity of a couple in their forties - faces lovely because they are lovely to one another.