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turtlethon · 3 years ago

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"Attack of Big MACC"

Season 3, Episode 12

First US Airdate: November 3, 1989 First BBC UK broadcast: June 19, 1990

A robot from the future arrives in present-day New York and gets caught in the middle of the Foot Clan / Turtles conflict.

We’re a quarter of the way through season three of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. “Attack of Big MACC” (sometimes referred to as “Attack of the Big MACC”) is the second episode of the series from Francis Moss, who made his TMNT debut with “The Fifth Turtle”.

Leonardo, Raphael and Michaelangelo are watching an Ace Duck marathon on TV when Donatello switches the channel. This is the only time Ace ever appears in the 1987 TMNT show; his action figure bio suggests he was supposed to be some guy the Turtles hired to pilot their blimp. We can only assume the producers of the show realised this was redundant given that the Turtles used the blimp on their own all the time, and so it seems in the animated continuity he’s just some guy who stars in movies instead.

On TV, April is reporting from a military testing facility where a new “super laser” is being showcased. The Turtles struggle to watch the broadcast as stormy weather causes interference with the broadcast. Later, a bolt of lightning causes a power surge, and as a result the tank-mounted laser goes haywire.

A futuristic, sentient robot emerges from a portal. Military officers open fire upon it, but the robot easily disarms them. The Turtles, thinking what we’re all thinking, immediately realise Shredder is going to attempt to obtain the bot.

Cut to Krang literally saying “I want that robot!” Watching the same report, Krang identifies the robot’s weak spot as its neck, and produces a “Docilator”, an iPod-sized device that Shredder will be able to use to gain control of it.

“Imagine,” says Krang, “An entire army of invincible robots from another dimension all eager to serve me!” I mean he already has an army of robots eager to serve him who I assume were at least partially built using Dimension X technology. The only difference between the Foot Soldiers and this new guy is that the Turtles can tear through them with relative ease.

Watching this episode, I immediately remarked that it’s a little convenient that Krang just happened to have a gadget on his person that was perfect for the Scheme of the Week, and not for the first time either. At that exact moment, the following exchange took place in the show:

SHREDDER: This is something you just happened to have lying around, right?

KRANG: We’ve got to keep the story moving!

This is where we’re at part-way through the third season. We’ve done all of this so many times that THE SHOW IS BECOMING SELF-AWARE.

Back at the military lab the robot, talking like a cowboy, grabs April. “I’m-a rescuin’ you from the Comanches.” Watching this on the TV, the Turtles leap into action. They arrive on the scene of the now vacant facility. (I feel like I’m always questioning timescales nowadays, but how long did it take them to get there? Has April just been struggling for like 45 minutes?)

The Turtles confront the robot, who identifies them as “hostile earthlings” and opens fire. After he captures Donatello and Raphael, Michaelangelo makes a peace gesture, convincing the visitor to cease fire.

The robot reveals his name is MACC (“Mobile Armored Computerized Combatant”), from “sector four, level eight”. MACC is from 2390 AD. April remarks that “he’s from 400 years in the future!”, suggesting that there was a little bit of wiggle-room put in place here in case this episode didn’t get broadcast until 1990: far-off years mentioned in this incarnation of TMNT conveniently always end up being a nice round number that lines up with the current broadcast date.

MACC explains that he speaks in cowboy lingo as there’s nothing to do on long inter-dimensional trips but watch old westerns. In classic Looney Tunes fashion, Bebop and Rocksteady saw a hole in the floor, causing MACC to fall through it. Shredder places the Docilator on MACC as we reach the end of the first act.

As part two begins, we see that MACC is unaffected by the Docilator and opens fire on Shredder. After the bad guys escape in their transport module, MACC explains to the Turtles and April that despite being programmed for violence, he’s a pacifist and considered a “factory reject”. April is keen to conduct an interview with “MACC, the robot warrior from the future!” which strikes me as being an easy way to draw more unwanted attention to the guy, but I guess given that the military are already out to get him and he’s been on TV, the cat’s out of the bag.

In the Technodrome, Krang and Shredder argue about who was to blame for their last scheme failing. Krang provides Shredder with a “new, improved Docilator” and Shredder vows that he’ll definitely capture MACC this time.

After April gets her interview, MACC encounters a video camera and tries to have a conversation with it. “Number Five! What brings you here?” Everything about MACC is just an unabashed, shameless rip-off of Number Five from the movie Short Circuit, and at this point it’s obvious that a decision has been made to lean into it.

MACC is rolling down the street with the Turtles in his arms(?!) when he announces he needs to visit a “databank repository”. That’s another way of saying he NEEDS INPUT.

In a public library, MACC powers through books with blinding speed. Stop me if you’ve seen this somewhere before. A guard confronts him. MACC explains that he’s “Inputting data, and having a wonderful time doing it”. The guard responds with “I’ll input you!” MACC disarms him by... zapping his belt so that his trousers fall down, revealing his boxer shorts with hearts - an old TMNT stand-by.

The Turtles and MACC flee the library. Later, in the lair, the robot is introduced to Splinter. After he accidentally fries the Turtles’ TV, Donatello determines his circuits are “deteriorating rapidly”.

MACC overhears Donatello explaining that eventually, he’ll blow up. In order to protect his new friends, he leaves the lair, but is immediately abducted by a pair of Foot Soldiers. Shredder pops up and places the new Docilator on the robot.

Having achieved his goal, Shredder orders Bebop and Rocksteady to head to the surface and wait for him. When Rocksteady points out Krang ordered that they immediately return to the Technodrome, Shredder explains that he intends to “amuse himself for a while” first. Soon after, the Turtles realise MACC has vanished and set out to find him before he explodes.

At Channel 6, Burne praises April’s interview when Vernon runs in. He explains MACC has been spotted attacking a police station. April rushes off, ostensibly to report on the story, but really to alert the Turtles.

The site of the police station looks like a war zone as MACC continues to open fire. As act two ends, the Turtles arrive on the scene to see MACC on a destructive rampage.

Act three begins with the now-reprogrammed MACC, under orders from Shredder, opening fire upon the Turtle van (the Turtles jump out but it’s not clear how much damage the van sustained). April arrives on a news cycle and MACC immediately destroys her camera. I feel like April’s camera being rendered unusable should also be a spot on the TMNT trope bingo card at this point.

Just to raise the stakes a bit, Donatello explains that the Docilator is accelerating the process of MACC disintegrating. “There’s enough destructive force in MACC to level this entire city!”

Meanwhile, Shredder and his mutants are evading the Turtles, but not from their usual abandoned warehouse; they’re residing in a luxury suite. “And just how are you paying for all this?” asks Krang. “I borrowed your Alien Express card,” responds Shredder. “I never leave the Technodrome without it.” This is quickly becoming one of the goofier episodes of the season.

The Turtles walk through the ruined city and see a malfunctioning ATM freely dispensing money to onlookers. Donatello theorises that MACC may have left them a trail to follow. They end up at a hotel that’s crackling with electricity, which turns out to be Shredder’s hideout.

The distraught manager talks to the Turtles in the now totalled hotel suite. (“That’s the last time I rent a room to a bunch of batchelors!”) They ask him where the villains went, and he points out a trail of footprints burned into the floor.

Arriving in the basement, the Turtles see Shredder and his mutants escaping in their transport module. The Turtles try to follow in a second module but a group of Foot Soldiers open fire on them.

Michaelangelo dispenses with the Foot Soldiers by kicking a pile of luggage containers on top of them. In a fun sequence, The Turtles try to pilot the transport module. “How hard can it be [to drive]?” remarks Donatello. “Bebop and Rocksteady do it all the time.” The module then veers out of control, suggesting maybe the Turtles don’t give their mutant rivals the credit they deserve.

In the Technodrome, Krang orders MACC to summon an army of robots through a time portal when it opens. “Soon I will have an army of eager robots at my command” -- again, he already does. I feel like it would be easier for Krang to just deactivate MACC and reverse-engineer the tech for new Foot Soldiers, but fine. Let’s continue.

Krang realises the Turtles are incoming via transport module. When they arrive, Bebop, Rocksteady and waves of both Foot and Rock Soldiers are waiting for them. The now-chained Turtles are marched through the Technodrome before Krang explains his plan to them.

In a lucky break for our heroes, the Docilator just happens to slip off the neck of MACC, freeing him from Krang’s control. He zaps the chains on the Turtles, allowing them to break free.

MACC blows a hole in the floor of the Technodrome, causing Shredder, Bebop and Rocksteady to fall in. He fires upon the feet of Krang’s robot body, leaving him stuck on the spot, and KILLS three Rock Soldiers(!) I thought this guy was supposed to abhor violence, and we’ve never seen any suggestion that the Rock Soldiers aren’t fully sentient individuals.

The time portal opens, but MACC is reluctant to leave. Michaelangelo stresses the importance of him returning to his own time: “If you don’t go, you’re gonna blow!” Ultimately Donatello convinces him to go, reasoning that he could be a warrior for peace in his own era. The Turtles leave the burning ruins of the Technodrome and head back to the surface in a reversing transport module as Krang sobs.

Back in the lair, the Turtles and Splinter exchange thoughts on MACC until the room is filled with smoke from a pizza burning in the oven. “Who needs MACC to cause damage? We’ve got Michaelangelo”.

I think it goes without saying that “Attack of Big MACC” owes more than a little to the Short Circuit movies, to the point where it goes beyond just being a loving homage (like “New York’s Shiniest” could be considered for Robocop) and treads into potential lawsuit territory. It’s also very self-indulgent in terms of the little winks and nods to how repetitive the show is becoming. Things like this bugged me as a kid, but right now I’m so deep in the weeds with this rewatch that I appreciate knowing the writers are just as burned out retelling the same story of Shredder and Krang trying to revive the Technodrome as the rest of us are sitting through it.

One trope we hadn’t seen in this version of TMNT until now is time travel. Donatello will mess with the timeframe in a different manner next season in the aptly-titled “Donatello Makes Time”; later, during the “Vacation in Europe” side-season, a time shift threatens to throw the world into a black hole in “Shredder’s New Sword”. Further down the road, season five’s “Once Upon a Time Machine” will be a more conventional time travel episode that sees the present-day Turtles team-up with their future counterparts from 2036.

NEXT TIME: Shredder and Splinter do the Limbo Rock in “The Ninja Sword of Nowhere”!

#Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #Turtlethon #Ninja Turtles #TMNT 1987 #Attack of Big MACC #Attack of The Big MACC #1989 #TMNT

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ordinaryschmuck · 4 years ago

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Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-4th Place

To anyone who plans on making a reboot of their favorite show in the future, you might want to take notes on this next pick. Because if you ask me, this next series that I'm going to talk about is the best example of how to do a reboot properly.

#4-Ducktales (2017-2021)

The Plot: Scrooge McDuck is the richest duck in the world, who made it big by also being one of the greatest adventurers of all time...ten years ago. Sadly, after an unfortunate accident with the family, Scrooge is forced to live the life of a normal businessman-er-duck. Up until Donald Duck asks Scrooge to watch over his nephews: Huey, Dewey, and Louie. What starts off as a single day of babysitting soon turns into a life of adventure as Scrooge gets back into the adventuring spirit to show his new family what the world really has to offer.

Now I want to make one thing clear: As of the moment of me writing this review, I have seen a total of zero episodes of the original Ducktales. That being said, despite my limited knowledge of the series, I still think it’s fair of me to point out how this is hands down the best reboot as of late (and I’ll explain more as to why that is later). And besides, from what I’ve heard from fans who have watched the original, Ducktales (2017) is a pretty faithful adaptation of the beloved franchise. The reason is that I believe this show remembers the two most important rules of making a reboot.

The first rule of a reboot is to try something new while still being faithful to the source material. Doing something like that is simple as a writer just needs to keep what the fans love and change what they hated. And trust me when I say that the writers of Ducktales (2017) knows how to do just that. For the most part, the show is about a family going on crazy globe-trotting adventures while still learning that family is the best adventure of all, much like the original. As for the characters, most of them keep their fun personalities. Scrooge is still a stingy miser with the heart for adventure, Launchpad is still the lovable idiot who can’t fly a plane, and Donald Duck still remains the one who gets stuck with all the bad luck. Then some characters have their personalities/roles revamped into something that improves upon the original. The best example is Fenton, who is still the wannabe superhero but is now a scientist in this show, wherein the old one was just Scrooge’s accountant. This way, both the hero and the man-DUCK-who’s behind the mask are equally capable of saving the day. There’s also Mrs. Beakley, who was originally a nanny that nagged Scrooge’s ear off for putting the kids in danger. In the reboot, she’s treated more as the anchor of reality to the more oddball characters, who also used to be a kick-butt super spy in her younger years. It is still the same role, but a different interpretation.

Now, some characters receive grand changes to their original personalities. But from what I’ve heard, those changes are made for the better. And there are no characters that need it more than the children. More specifically, Huey, Dewey, and Louie. This show does something that I’m eternally grateful for, and that’s giving each of these three their own distinct personalities and quirks. For years I couldn’t for the life of me tell the triplets apart. They had the same design, the same voice, the same personality, and the only difference people had to go off of are their different colors (which really didn’t do much to help). Here, they have different designs, voices, and now defining character traits for each of them. Huey is the smart and responsible boy scout, Dewey is the annoying attention seeker, and Louie is the best character in the entire show, and I WILL FREAKING FIGHT YOU ON THAT! And let us not forget the most appreciated change: Webby. From what I’ve heard, fans hated the original Webby, as she was nothing more than just the stereotypical girl of the group. Here, she’s given an actual personality and a fun one to boot. Webby is the ecstatic thrill-seeking adventurer who is skilled in combat training (thanks to her grandma) and is (of course) a socially awkward girl who wants to make friends. Like I said, this show took the idea that the fans hated and changed it into something that they’ll love. Which makes sense why the writers mastered this because they themselves are real fans of the show.

It is clear how much the writers are fans of the Ducktales franchise as they filled Ducktales (2017) with many references. And not just references to the original series but also references to the classic comics by Carl Barks and even the NES video game from the 1980s (seriously, this show will make you feel things about the “Moon Theme” you wouldn’t think was possible!). Even the show’s animation seems to be a homage to both the cartoon and comics. Not only do the characters and backgrounds have a more comic book style to them, but the characters also work on a mix of realistic and cartoony logic. And let me just say, it is refreshing to see characters in a Disney show have cartoon logic to them since Wander Over Yonder got canceled. And it’s not just Ducktales that the series reference, but even classic Disney movies (of course) and other shows in the Disney Afternoon lineup. And when it comes to these references, it’s more than just a subtle wink to the fans. The writers actually go out of their way to write a story around these beloved characters, so people who don’t get the joke won’t be one-hundred percent lost. For instance, without giving anything away, the writers found a brilliant way to reintroduce Darkwing Duck in this universe that feels right for this famous character. And if you ask me personally, these are the best ways to handle references for a reboot. Make them work within the story, even if you don’t fully get the joke.

This brings me to the second most important rule of a reboot: Make a quality product even though it is based on something else. Let us pretend that the original never existed. Would Ducktales (2017) still be as good as it is now? Personally, as a person who has never seen the original, I think it is.

This is another show that mixes slice of life episodes with adventure ones, similar to My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. And just like Friendship is Magic, both are equally interesting because the characters themselves make them so. No matter what situation the Duck Family are in, the audience will care about it because the characters care about it. In fact, I think Ducktales (2017) handles the mix of slice of life and adventure much better than Friendship is Magic. In MLP: FiM, the adventure-based episodes force the characters to stick to their simple personality traits to move the story forward, and character-based ones help them grow. In Ducktales (2017), because the characters regularly go on adventures, they grow as characters no matter the situation. For example, my favorite episode is “The Great Dime Chase” where the main plot is Louie finding Scrooge’s #1 dime after accidentally spending it. While in that same episode, Dewey and Webby try to solve a mystery around the boys’ mom. We get a great lesson about the importance of hard work and a fascinating plot of an overarching mystery within the season, all taking place within the same episode. Both are interesting, neither feels as though it overshadows the other, and the characters develop along the way.

Another thing this show mixes well is comedy and drama. A lot of shows recently tried way too hard to find that perfect mix. Ducktales (2017) is one of the few examples that nails it. The comedy is hilarious, the drama is endearing, and neither feels like it’s prioritized over the other. The show starts off with this mix as well, where others that I’ve talked about seem to start off as purely comedic only to take themselves more seriously later on. That isn’t entirely a bad thing, but I feel as though Ducktales (2017) is the best way to go about the method. That way, fans won’t be complaining about how much “better” the show used to be in its first batch of episodes, much like Star V.S. the Forces of Evil.

Unfortunately, while I recommend this show, it’s not without its fair share of issues. Or rather, issue, as there really is only one problem I have with it. And that problem can be summed up with one name: Dewey Duck. For the most part, I dislike Dewy. Because he’s nothing more than a Ben Schwarts character. No disrespect to Ben Schwarts himself, but lately, it feels as though he only plays the one character from time to time: The egotistical attention seeker slowly and surely learning to be a better person who realizes that not everything is about him. That’s the character he plays in both Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), and it’s the character he plays here. And the thing about these characters is that they’re not as lovable as Ben Schwarts thinks they sound. In fact (and, again, I mean no disrespect to the actor. I’m sure he’s a lovely person in real life), every single one of these characters comes off as kind of annoying rather than as the lovable rapscallions I’m sure they’re meant to be. However, there is one thing worth mentioning about Dewey. While he’s portrayed as annoying when used for comedy, Dewey is surprisingly a compelling character when used for drama. The thing is, he’s rarely used for dramatic moments and is meant as a source of comedy. Hence why I said I disliked him for the most part.

Other than that, there aren’t really that many problems with the show. Well, there are, but they’re mostly nitpicks that the series more than makes up for. Is it weird that the kids are voiced by adults? Yes, but the actors do a great job at being sincere and have great comedic timing than any kid could have. Are there changes to characters that fans might not enjoy? Probably, but I have yet to have seen anyone that has annoyed me as much as Dewey has. Are the villains just evil for the sake of being evil? Yes, but that’s not really a big deal. In fact, a villain doesn’t need a heartbreaking backstory as to why they’ve become so evil. They just need to have a great personality that’s fun to watch, which every villain in the show has (aside from season two’s antagonist who’s basically a Disney surprise villain. And I hate them with a fiery passion). Does it feel as though the show suffers from “too many characters” syndrome? It sometimes does, but each character has such a fun and unique personality that I find it hard to forget most of them.

So really, Ducktales (2017) is the best reboot in recent memory. This is crazy, seeing as how lately it feels as though Disney doesn’t even know how to properly reboot their own movies to save their lives. This is why I feel as though people should take notes on what Ducktales (2017) does if they ever feel like rebooting something they loved as a kid. Because this is more than just a retelling of the same story that people know by heart. This is a fantastic show with even better characters, stories, and tone. Whether you’ve been a fan since the beginning, or a part of the new generation of viewers, odds are you’ll be screaming Whoo-Ooo with every episode.

(Also, a word of warning to those who haven’t watched the show yet: Beware the theme song. Trust me when I say it’ll be stuck in your head until the day you die)

#top 20 of 2010s #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #what i thought about

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infinite-hearts-333 · 4 years ago

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Masked Love Chapter 1

Sander sides, Rociet, Human/Magical AU

WARNING: mentions of past dehumanising, reference to PTSD flashback??, um bullying reference.

Masterpost

~~18/5/2022 6:37am (Present time)~~

“Janus?”

Janus grumbled, pulling the weighted blanket over his head more as what sounded like his mama's voice filled his too-tired, half asleep brain. “Noooooooooo….”

“Janus! JANUS! I know you're awake up there!!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” Janus groaned back, pulling the blanket tighter over his head.

“JANNIE IF YOU DON'T LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER I’LL COME UP THERE WITH THE COLD BORE WATER AGAIN~!” Came the singsong voice of his mom, and Janus full on scrambled out of bed, covers sent flying and he had to double check his claws to ensure they didn’t ensnare on anything through his half sleepy, half panicked daze.

“COMING! COMING!! Yesh….” he called, before grumbling, yawning, completely use to the soft popping of his unhinged jaw, forked tongue tasting the air. Waffles…. Mmmmm….

He quickly got ready, body automatically from routine, getting changed into his clothes- a lime turtle neck, black jacket with pins and patches attached, sunflower yellow beanie, skinny black jeans and his boots. He hummed a loose tune as he moved, alike to clock work, moving to turn to his bed, tugging the poor flinged sheets back into the right position, snatching up his stuffed dragon that had fallen onto the floor and placing it on top of his pillow gently.

Janus’s room was, in fact, the attic. His mum and mama weren't… expecting him when he showed up, but they took him in and loved him all the same. The rickety old house they had didn't have enough rooms for Janus to move into when he got older, so his parents spent ages rebuilding the attic for him. You could tell in some places- the seams where the wall met the roof weren't all the same size, the floorboards ran crookedly rather than straight, there were chips in both the walls and the floor where the wood wasn’t smooth.

But janus loved his room. It was cosy- there different metals and CD disks strung up which glinted like precious gems under the sky window, he had a large rainbow flag hanging over his bed in the corner, fairy lights stuck on the wall all around the room. Boxes upon boxes peeked out of his bed, filled to the brim with the most random things, leaves, feathers, stones, shells, bones, name it, Janus probably had it.

Walking to where his room ended, a wall with a human sized hole in the floor, he paused by the mirror, only to wrinkle up his nose in disgust at what he saw staring back. Janus was actually pretty handsome, nice clear tanned skin, brilliant eyes that shined lime and forest green and firefly yellow all at the same time. Chestnut hazel hair that hung in ruffled curls framed his face. He was strong, a little buff and according to his mother and mamma, quite the personality. But there were two things.

Janus’s jaw. It faded into the most horrid shade of olive green, splotches of lime, deep forest green and the colour of dying cactuses for scales, littered across the bottom half of Janus’s face. Two gross dusty pink scars ran from the corners of his mouth, stretching out and curling, nearly to touch his ears, one on each side. Darting in and out of his abnormally large fanged mouth was a forked blue tongue, fading into pink at the back of his mouth, the slightest sign that janus was once human.

He softly sighed, turning away to wander to the wall, and so the holes well, jumping through it to land on the couch flawlessly. “Morning.” He mumbled to the two females cooking and giggling at each other. “Morning' darling~!” called Mamma, smiling brightly. “Did you sleep well, little snek-a-doodle?” Teased his mum, smiling warmly as she parted from her partner to ruffle her adopted son's hair.

Janus smiled back up at her, and couldn't ignore the pang of happiness when all he found in mum's eyes was love. “We made waffles for your big day!” Chimed Mamma, beaming as she worked at the stove.

Ah. Right. High school. Janus groaned, leaning back to painfully donk his head against the wall. “Do I have to go?” He whined. “Yup!” his mum said, popping the ‘p’. Janus rolled his head off the wall, allowing his eyes to drop to problem number two in his life. His hands. Or well…. Talons.

Janus’s hands, a lot like his jaw dyed into that horrid olive colour, splattered with scales. He had four ‘fingers’ instead of five, each ending with a large sharp claw that was almost an ivory green if held in the right light. Scars lined his hand where the scales started, signs that janus wasn’t born with these abnormal features.

His mum then slapped him over the head with a rolled up newspaper. “OW! Hey!!!!!” snapped Janus. His mum raised an eyebrow. “You were pulling the face you make when you're judging yourself. And I'm having none of that. You're beautiful, fullstop.” she narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to prove her wrong. Janus chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” he hummed, standing to walk over to their small island counter.

His mom huffed, nodding, walking alongside her son, combat boots making a soft thumping noise on the tiles. Janus hid a wince as the sound of clicking heels entered his mind.

Click, click, click.

He swallowed, sitting. “Here you go!!” chirped Mamma, smiling as she placed the plates down. “Thank you dear.” Mom said softly kissing Mamma’s cheek on her way past. “Thanks mamma.” Janus chipped in, trying not to show his teeth while he smiled. Mamma beamed, swirling around to plop down in her seat.

Janus reached out to grab the berries, randomly dropping them over the waffles. He was cautious, ensuring he didn’t open his mouth too wide, taking in small little bites. Mum started talking about what she would be doing while Janus was at school, working on the new barley crops. “Those darn aphids! They've been going off everywhere!!!” Janus slowly chewed on a piece of blue berry.

“I think you're gonna need to get some pest spray mum.” Janus pointed out. Mamma nodded. “Do you want me to pick some up honey? I’m going into town anyway for some more mango seeds.”

Janus smirked against his milk glass, washing down the waffles. “Again with the Mangos Mamma?”

Mamma shrugged, smiling. “I want to make some jams! And maybe I might try making mango sorbet again.” Janus grinned. “Yes please!” His gaze flickered to the clock on the wall, and he sighed. “Well, as much as I hate it, I should go.” he said with a huff, shovelling the last of the waffles into his mouth and drowning the milk.

“Okay darling, have a nice day!” Mamma said with a smile. “See you this afternoon ‘kay snek-a-doodle? You’ll help me with the cows again?” Janus smirked, collecting his plate and glass. “Absolutely.” he stated, placing his dishes in the sink. “See you this afternoon!” he called, snatching up his gloves and mask off their hanger and then scooping up his bag.

He swung his bag half on, fumbling to put on his yellow gloves. They were bulky and too big to allow room for his claws, a black band around the start of the four fingers and wrist to prevent slipping and looked ridiculous, but it was better than exposing his features to the world. He had to be careful, pausing to ensure none of his scales got caught on the fabric. He then put on his mask, a simple also yellow fabric that covered his mouth and nose. He then twisted to reach into his front pocket of his bag, pulling out his earphones and lime mp3 player, shoving the buds into his ears and turning it on, blasting the music at the highest volume.

[ 🎶 Looking for an exit in this world of fear

I can see the path that leads away

Mama never left, and daddy needs me here

I wish the wind would carry a change

Looking through the window to a world of dreams

I can see my future slip away

Honey you won't get there if you don't believe

I wish the wind would carry a change 🎶 ]

He wandered through the fields of crops and fields of animals, waving a hello to the farmer next door. Michel, his name was, he grows the best peaches. He guessed that there was a satisfying crunch as Janus jumped from a small ledge down onto the orange autumn leaf-covered road. Wandering along the side of the road, Janus quietly hummed along to his music all the way to the bus stop. He quickly checked the suns position, having done it many many times, relieved to find he was on time and the bus should be here any minute.

[ 🎶 I've had enough

I'm standing up

I need, I need a change

I've had enough

Of chasing luck

I need, I need a change 🎶 ]

Sure enough the death machine, painted yellow and screeching nearly as loud as its passengers came swerving around the corner, somehow audible through Janus’s music, metal rusted gears screaming as the beast came to a halt. That thing was definitely gonna kill people one day. Janus huffed, climbing the rickety steps and flashed his card at the bus driver, who looked like he had been going for six months without sleep and would snap someone's neck.

They traded nods, having known each other since Janus first ‘moved’ to the country. They never really spoke to each other, but traded nods, ‘hey’s’, and ‘mood’s’ so he was cool. Janus sat right behind the bus driver, dumping his bag next to him so no one would take the seat next to him. Not that it was necessary, everyone actively avoided him. He then maintained his death glare, slipping it on as easily as putting on his mask.

Some kids, janus found, take enjoyment in throwing things at the bus driver, so janus took it upon himself to protect the bus driver from the nuisances, and in return, once the bus driver found out, he would keep the passengers from taking the spot so Janus wasn't forced to sit next to anyone.

[ 🎶 I'm setting fire to the life that I know (I know)

Let's start a fire everywhere that we go (we go)

We starting fires,

We starting fires till our lives are burning gold 🎶 ]

Janus sat, guarding the busdriver and spacing out till he felt the bus sharply halt. Hip hip hooray for hell. He sighed, standing up and wandered off the bus, bidding farewell to the busdriver with a small nod of the head. He turned his attention to his new problem.

The school's shadow engulfed him standing tall over him, and a part of janus feared it may crumble and crush him. People were chatting, boys flirting and betting, bullies shoving random people and dropping curses. Janus’s personal hell. Well, here goes nothing!

[ 🎶 I've had enough

Of chasing luck

I need, I need a change 🎶 ]

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delightfully-difficult-pirate · 5 years ago

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CS JJ Day 27: My True Love Gave to Me (1/1)

A/N: This began life as a Secret Santa gift, but I had to abandon it halfway through when my first giftee went AWOL and it didn’t fit the desires of my new giftee. However, I really enjoyed this story and decided to finish it as my entry for this year’s @csjanuaryjoy! Thank you so much, mods, for organizing this event and facilitating all the joy! This a small, Christmas-time, neighbors AU and I hope you enjoy!

AO3

~*~

Emma Swan knew that she tended to be a bit of a Grinch during the holiday season. She’d spent too many Christmases watching happy families celebrating while whatever foster family she was with barely acknowledged her existence with gifts of second-hand clothes to develop the warm, fuzzy feelings people associated with the season. Not all of the families were like that, of course, but few had bothered to put real effort into presents. Only Ingrid, the woman who had tried desperately to adopt Emma but was denied by the state, had ever given her gifts that really meant anything when she was young.

She spent Christmas with her chosen family of friends now and had received a plethora of thoughtful gifts, but she still hadn’t been able to bring herself to really care about the holiday.

Given her general disregard for winter festivities, it was quite a shock to come home one day and find that her apartment, in which she lived alone, looked like the Christmas aisle of a department store had exploded inside of it.

Soft blue lights twinkled in her windows and garland hung from almost every available shelf or ledge. The side table by her front door now sported a festive red and green quilted runner and a reindeer shaped dish held the miscellaneous change and spare key that usually were strewn haphazardly on the table’s surface. With a sigh, she dropped her keyring with the others.

Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, Emma proceeded into her home. A tree, an honest to god real tree, now dominated one corner of her living room. Gold tinsel and bright, colorful lights wrapped around it and simple round ornaments of red and silver hung from the branches. Her heart dropped, just a little, when she saw that there were no gifts piled underneath.

There was, however, a nutcracker sitting on her coffee table, and a small cat asleep on the back of her couch.

“Killian, you asshole,” Emma growled. The cat’s presence revealed the identity of the orchestrator behind the home makeover.

Now awake, the cat, a lovely calico named Tinkerbelle, stood, stretched, and jumped off the couch to rub herself against Emma’s ankles.

“Tink, did you help your owner with this… this… travesty?”

The cat just stretched and rubbed herself against Emma’s pant legs. With a chuckle, Emma lifted the interloper and settled her against her chest. That elicited a loud purr and a head-butt against her chin.

Tinkerbelle belonged to Emma’s upstairs neighbor and friend, Killian Jones. The day he’d moved into the third floor, Tink had shown her displeasure at the move and escaped. Emma, just home from grocery shopping, heard a very irate “Bloody hell!” echo down the stairwell before a small ball of fur ran right into the bags she had set down on the landing in order to unlock her apartment door. After a quick scramble and a few scratches, Emma had extracted Tinkerbelle from the bags just as a sweaty man came bounding down the stairs after her.

Emma held out the hissing cat as she asked, “does this belong to you?”

“Aye, that she does.” With a sigh, he had taken the pissed off cat and held her firmly against himself with one arm. The other he held out as he introduced himself as Killian Jones, her new neighbor.

“Emma Swan.” She shook his offered hand.

She’d stared in shock as he lifted her hand and placed a quick kiss on the knuckles.

“You have my thanks, Emma, for your assistance. May I offer you an IOU for a drink, for some time in the future after I have unpacked?”

Emma blinked before finally replying, “That isn’t necessary.”

“Maybe not, but the offer is open. I will let you know when my apartment is fit for company.” With that, Killian had made his way back up the stairs and Emma had to scold herself for admiring the way his jeans hugged his backside. The man had just moved in; she shouldn’t be ogling him like a teenager. Even if his accent sent shivers down her back.

Eventually she’d taken Killian up on his offer of a drink. That had led to more drinks, casual dinners, and nearly three years later, Emma considered him one of her closest friends. He was the one that had her spare key and watched over her apartment when her work as a bail bondsman took her out of town. A trust she was now rethinking since he’d apparently used the privilege to infest her apartment with holiday cheer.

Emma cuddled Tink as she wandered her apartment. The kitchen wasn’t too bad; a few towels decorated with snowflakes and a snowman shaped cookie jar were the only new additions she could see. The guest bathroom, however, nearly burnt her eyes with how much red and green was packed into the small space. There was a new Santa toilet cover with a matching bathmat. The hand towels looked like the bottom halves of elves and her simple soap dispenser had been replaced with a Christmas tree one.

Blessedly, her bedroom and attached bathroom had been spared the Christmas invasion. Killian obviously knew better than to mess with her private space.

Tinkerbelle jumping from her arms and Emma heard the squeak of her front door’s hinges. The culprit returning to the scene of the crime, she thought, as she heard Killian chuckle when Tink greeted him with a meow that seem far too loud to have come from the cat.

“I know, it’s time for dinner,” she heard Killian matter-of-factly tell Tink. “I just need to add the finishing touch to the tree.”

Realizing Killian didn’t know she was home, Emma toed off her shoes and softly walked to spy out the bedroom door. Wanting to remain hidden, she used the reflection in her TV to watch Killian. He had a simple box, which he laid on her coffee table. Whatever item he pulled out was too blurry to make out clearly, but she surmised it was some time of tree topper as he stretched to reach the top of the tree. She risked a real look as he fiddled around behind the tree a bit and saw that it was a gold star. She swiftly ducked back into her room when it illuminated, Killian having finished plugging it in.

“There,” she listened to him say. Tink meowed in reply.

“Alright, fine. Let’s get you some food.” With that, Killian collected the empty box, scooped up his cat, and left her apartment, locking the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Emma stood in her living room and gazed at the tree. It was, she realized, the first Christmas tree she’d ever had. That thought immediately brought tears to Emma’s eyes, which she roughly wiped away. She didn’t need a tree; especially not one that was going to shed pine needles all over her floor for the next few weeks.

Later that night, when Emma went to turn off the lights before heading to bed, she couldn’t help but admire how lovely it looked in the dark room. As she lay in bed, she sent a text to Killian.

Thank you.

~*~

Three days later, Emma noticed that the Christmas tree in her living room had gained some ornaments. Where before there had only been classic glass bulbs, there were now wooden figures nestled amongst the branches. All of them were birds of some type, which Emma found odd.

Three looked like chickens. Four were small, dark birds. Two were obviously doves and the last was an odd looking bird with stripes on its wings that had a pear dangling by the stem from its mouth.

Emma held the pear-holding bird that she had found near the top of the tree in her hand. Something about the bird felt familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on it. It wasn’t until she was placing it back in the tree that the answer hit her like a ton of bricks.

It was a partridge. Holding a pear…

A partridge in a pear tree… well, a pine tree, but the connection was there.

Two turtle doves. Three French hens.

And a quick google told her that the fourth gift in the 12 Days of Christmas song was either “calling” or “colly” birds, deepening on the version, and that colly was believed to refer to blackbirds, which were dark like “col”, the Old English word for coal.

Leave it to Killian, an English Literature professor, to give her a gift that involved Old English.

Pulling her phone out, Emma autodialed Killian’s number.

“Evening, love,” he answered.

“If you keep breaking into my apartment, I’m going to make sure that Santa leaves only col in your stocking.” She put extra emphasis on the word col.

She could hear him laughing in the apartment above her.

~*~

As expected, Killian did not stop adding more decorations to the Christmas tree. The next day brought five gold painted rings, followed by six geese with eggs.

On the seventh day, Emma found more than just seven wooden swans a-swimming on her tree after returning home. A new picture frame adorned her wall, containing a collage of pictures of Emma herself swimming. Or at least interacting with water. She didn’t think that sitting on the side of the pool with only her feet in the water really counted as swimming. Most were from that summer, when Killian had been her plus-one at a friend’s wedding in Cape Cod.

In one, which she couldn’t remember seeing before, she was “manning the helm” of a sail boat with Killian standing behind her, his hands on hers. Killian had insisted on renting a small sailboat while they were out of the city so that he could show her the joy of sailing. Emma smiled as she remembered how he’d gently guided her movements and ensured she didn’t kill everyone on board.

Well, he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for any possible dangers, but in this specific photo, Killian wasn’t looking at the waters around them. Instead, his attention seemed to be solely on herself. He was smiling, but it was… different. It seemed softer, somehow. In fact, his entire expression reminded her of the ones she usually saw on the face of her best friend’s husband, David, when he was in awe by how much he loved the woman before him.

Emma stepped away from the picture, her heart pounding. She had to be reading too much into a simple facial expression. There was no way Killian was in love with her. He would have told her if he was. Probably with a poem.

Or by breaking into her apartment and recreating an old Christmas carol.

“On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me…” Emma sang softly to herself.

Before she could stop herself, Emma ran upstairs to Killian’s apartment. It was only when Killian open the door in response to her insistent knock that she realized she had no idea what she was going to do. So she did the first thing that came to mind, which was to grab fistfuls of his shirt, drag him toward her, and hope the kiss she gave him conveyed what she couldn’t put into words.

He responded instantly. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. She followed when he began to slowly step back into his apartment, only to find herself pressed against the door moments after it was closed. Emma couldn’t help running her hands through Killian’s impossibly soft hair as the kiss deepened.

It was Killian who managed to regain control of himself first, pulling away from the kiss and resting his head against hers.

“Emma… I…” he began.

Emma smiled. “I know.”

#Captain Swan #captain swan january joy #OUaT #CS Fan fic #CS Fic #Lee writes

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chickenscript · 5 years ago

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specs (rottmnt x reader)

A/N: originally wrote this a couple months ago. i haven't been keeping up very well with things lately honestly (-｡-;

it's mostly platonic and started out as an idea based on donnie having glasses being cannon. then it turned into a bit of angst. there's just a lot more going on than what i planned for.

hope you all enjoy though!

and sorry again for the spotty updates. i'm having another dive in mojo and it's been hard to think things up. but i'll write when i can and try to get to stuff in my inbox soon (^◇^；)

---

Donnie didn't wear glasses much anymore.

He ditched his specs for contact lens the moment he could. Being around his rowdy brothers always shortened the life span of his glasses and he was done with repairs and having to scour for replacements. But, there's still occasions where he needs to refresh his stock of contact lens and has to break out his glasses in the meantime.

The softshell turtle huffed and pushed his glasses up his snout again, squinting a bit as he looked at the parts of his newest project that he was stitching the wire guts together for. There was a steady thump going in the back of his head. He lost track of how long he'd been working hours ago and his vision was starting to get slightly hazey.

He sat up in his chair, stretching to relieve the crick in his back and rolled his shoulders with a rumble. The blades felt as stiff as his back muscles but the discomfort wasn't anything new.

Donnie pulled off his glasses to swab at a greasy smudge on the lens with a handkerchief from his work table, and he could hear footsteps and the crinkle of plastic bags approaching his lab.

“Hey Dee.”

He turned in his chair, placing his glasses back onto his face.

You had a plastic slung over your shoulder- probably filled with some goodies you got on the way there from some 24/7 store, and your bookbag.

You let out a gentle guffaw when you spot the change in your friend’s look, “Since when did you wear glasses?”

Donatello sat back, checking notifications on his phone as you asked.

“Well, who said I never did. There’s such a thing as contact lens.” he answered matter of factly.

You go up to his work table to drop your haul of snacks down and shoulder off your bookbag.

“I mean, I knew you wore contact lens but I’ve never seen you with those.” you’re obviously staring at him still and he looks up at you from over the rim of his square framed glasses.

They’re held together by tape in the middle and it was like he’s never not worn them in front you before.

You tilt your head and give a slight smile, “They look good on you.”

Donnie isn’t really sure how to take the compliment and uses a skinny finger to push up his glasses again.

“Thanks.” he mumbled, clicking off the screen of his phone and dropping it back onto his desk.

You start sifting through the snacks you bought, “I stopped by that Asian market again- they had some great deals today.”

It was always a cheap spot to get good Japanese munchies from, but there were some really good sales tonight. You pulled out a few bottles of ramune, lining them up on the table, and then a few packs of various chips and tossed one to Donnie that you knew he was very fond of.

It crunched in his grasp as he caught it with ease, and he quickly popped it open. A salty, savory scent wafting into his snout.

He looked over at the time in the corner of one of the monitors on his work table.

“Only 3am?”

You chuckled, “How long has it been since you last slept anyway?”

The turtle hummed for a moment, posing his fingers against his chin thoughtfully.

“Two days maybe.”

You remember his longest sleepless stint was five days. He crashed severely hard and got a head cold. He was miserable for about two weeks after that, mostly because his body kept forcing him to shut down and sleep much earlier and frequently than he would normally.

“Haven’t even napped?” his sleeping system had a lot to do with him taking several hour naps in between working before crashing at some point and getting legit bed rest.

“No.” he yawned, his pointy molars peeking out.

“Well, I think it’s bed time.”

He grunted from under the crunch of his crab and seaweed flavored chips, giving you a look.

You pulled your sweatshirt over your head and threw it Donnie’s way. He ducked- not that you expected to hit him. You also slipped off your shoes, thinking about how it was hitting the colder months now. But, it was especially cold for November because of the Arctic blast heading over the states. Your fingers and toes were definitely feeling the backlash, and you probably should’ve worn a jacket.

You knew the colder weather has been affecting the boys too.

Despite Donnie not wanting to sleep, you could see the lethargy written on his face. Probably didn’t help that he was only wearing sweats.

You started to rethink the ramune and crave something warmer.

“I’m gonna go make some hot chocolate. Pick out a movie.”

Donnie grumbled a reply and you padded out the lab on your toes.

The other turtles had long since went to bed, or at least you thought they did, so it spooked you when you nearly ran into Leo.

He was coming from the direction of the bathroom and looked awfully run down.

“Oh hey,” your name got caught up in a long, showy yawn. Even the red stripes on his face look a little duller, like they were as tired as the turtle.

You chuckle off the scare and knocked on his plastron with a knuckle. You were surprised he didn’t have a shirt on with his baggy pajama pants and tube socks.

“Hey sleepyhead. I’m making hot chocolate- think you can stay up long enough to wait for a cup?”

Leonardo sleepily nodded and followed you to the kitchen. You kept him awake while you prepped the hot cocoa with some idle chatter. Once you talked about the blandness of your school day, he spoke about the rigorous and very tiring new training routine Splinter was putting the turtles through.

"It's crazy- he's never pushed us like this. It's like he's preparing us to go to war or something."

Something somber hit you and Leo could tell.

Splinter finally cracked down on the boys because of the Kuroi Yuroi, and ever since you found out about, you've been fearful.

Something about it and what it was made your skin quiver. It brought this feeling that a storm was heading everyone’s way and there was nothing you could do about it. Even Leo's reassurances that they would get through whatever would come just fine, you...

You didn’t like feeling so helpless.

The hot chocolate reached a peak boil and you hurry to pour out three mugs worth. You turn to bade Leo a goodnight and get a tight hug you didn't expect. But, the wrinkle in your brow and the way your lips were set in a firm line before, tipped Leo off that you probably needed one.

You hug back and couldn't say you weren't thankful for how it managed to help mellow out the bad feeling lingering in your gut. When you both let go, Leo ruffled your hair with a smirk.

You swat at him before giving him his share of hot cocoa- it was in the blue Sonic mug he loved so much -, and then grabbing your own mug and Donnie’s too.

When you got back to the lab, Wolf Children was about ten minutes in and Donnie was roosted on his pillow stuffed loft, swaddled in a thick and colorful, patchy quilt. It was one of the many things you and April found while spelunking at thrift shops for stuff for the boys.

You wondered how full April's hands were with helping them out before you came along to help with outings like that.

"Nice choice." you refer to the movie and reach up to give Don the mugs so you could climb up and join him on the plush perch.

"Ghibli always is." he lifted his mug to his lips and let you take half of the quilt and huddle under it with him, passing your mug back when you were settled.

The both of you sipped at your hot cocoa in a warm silence as you watched the movie.

While you couldn’t do much about what was going to happen in the future, you were holding out that the Hamato family would turn up on the winning side and nothing as horrible as you felt would happen to them in the end.

Donnie leaned against you, seeming to detect your internal distress- that or he just wanted to get closer to your body heat. You think maybe it was both because somehow. Even with the new central heating the boy genius managed to cleverly cobble together for the lair, his skin felt staticy and cool to the touch against your arm.

You hold your mug a little tighter, staring into the last bit of chocolate sludge swishing around the bottom.

You really did hope this storm didn’t come.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #donatello #leonardo #reader insert #my writing

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twdmusicboxmystery · 4 years ago

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8x12: The Key - Re-Watch

Welcome to episode 12. Let me start by saying this episode had a lot of stuff with Simon and Dwight, which is kinda boring and I don’t have much to say about it. I didn’t see many TD smoking guns in it, so I won’t mention it.

We also have the Rick/Negan/Hell theme. I think when this aired (again, before we knew anything about Rick leaving) we just equated it with Beth because it’s all the same symbols we saw around her in Still. And just as Still was one season before her death fake out, this is one season before Rick’s. So it’s obvious that this pointed, more specifically, to his death fake out. I don’t have tons more to say about that. Re-read these posts for details (X, X, X).

At one point, Negan did call himself a cat. Rick asks, “Are you still alive?” and Negan says, “I’m a GD cat.” Now, if Rick represents Beth (because death fake out) then Negan might represent Daryl (who we know is a cat). But I’m still not sure exactly what the point of this line was. I mean, Negan isn’t one who’s had 9 lives or anything, but we equate the cat symbol with a resurrection symbol. So the only thing I can think of is that this line is there to equate this sequence with resurrection (Rick’s) or else to equate it with Beth and Daryl, because it’s a parallel to them. Either one works for me. ;D

Oh, and Rick and Michonne get to Hilltop. Once again (I’m sure you could have guessed this) I think this foreshadows Rick and Michonne returning from the helicopter group. Especially because Rick goes right over and hugs and kisses Judith, and thanks Daryl for keeping her safe. Just feels like something we’ll see on the show after Rick returns.

And this is also why I do think Rick and Michonne will return to the show, despite what they’ve told us to the contrary. It just feels like they’re setting up something where there will be a big war with the helicopter people, but Rick and Michonne will return to lead it. And I just don’t see all of that—including the entire cast of the series—being put into the Rick Grimes films, you know? It’s very possible that something will happen to make me realize I’m wrong about that, and I’m okay with that, but for right now, I just don’t see how anything but their return is possible.

Okay, let’s get to the big cheese TD stuff: Georgie and the “A Key to A Future” book.

Honestly, I was kind of floored by it. And let me start by saying this. At first, I felt like I was waffling again, but then I read something that made me realize that maybe it doesn’t matter because all storylines point to the same thing.

I know that was vague. Let me explain.

We’ve all (especially me) waffled back and forth about how Beth will return. Will she return with Maggie? Is she the gray ninja? Even if she’s not, is the gray ninja with Beth’s group? With Maggie’s group? Or will Beth be with Stefanie’s group? We simply don’t know.

And I’ve been heavily leaning toward Eugene’s group lately, mostly because of what Nicotero has said (and the idea that this gray ninja is a new character named Melody.) But when I watched this stuff with Georgie again, I immediately thought I must be wrong and Beth really will come through Maggie, not Eugene. Because there’s just no way this DOESN’T point to Beth. I’ll explain in a second, but it simply HAS to.

So here’s another point that’s important to illustrate. In the comic books, Stefanie (yes, the one Eugene has been talking to on the radio) is part of the Commonwealth. Now, I’ve been kind of assuming that wouldn’t be the case in the show, for several reasons.

1) The show always remixes what happens in the comic books, so chances are it won’t be exactly the same.

2) Stefanie is acting really secretive with Eugene in the show, like her group is in hiding or something. I’ve kind of assumed they might be hiding from the helicopter group, which would make them different from the Commonwealth.

3) If Georgie represents the Commonwealth (she’s one of the leaders of it in the comic books) and Maggie is with her, which we know she is, then why wouldn’t Stefanie know about Alexandria and the other communities, if she’s part of the Commonwealth too?

I ran this past my fellow theorists and they pointed out some possibilities. The Commonwealth is a big place, and maybe it’s a lack of communication. That sort of thing.

But I mention this just to say the following:

Maybe these are all part of the same story line, and that’s why we’re seeing signs of Beth in all of them. Maybe, just as all the tracks converged at Terminus, all the story lines will converge in the Commonwealth. So, even if, in the show, Stefanie isn’t part of the Commonwealth yet, maybe she will be at some future point, and that’s how they will remix the material from the comic books.

Okay, so let’s talk Georgie. She shows up and wants records in exchange for knowledge. Not only is that a musical theme, which I’m sure we connected to Beth before, but they specifically mention records at Grady. And then there’s the fact that since then, we’ve seen both Jesus and Beta listening to records with Emily’s Turtle and Monkey song on them.

The twins with Georgie are also a big deal to me. I don’t remember how extensively this was discussed back in S8, but at the very least, I don’t think I gave it its proper due. We saw the twin boys around Beth in 5x09. Beth was in that episode, next to the number 8 and a 5:10 clock. And train tracks. And ABIBEL suns.

Now, with Georgie, we see all these other Beth symbols, and a pair of twins. Not much happened with them back in S8, but in S10 (which is 8 years post Coda) Maggie will be returning and we’ll probably be kicking off the Commonwealth story line soon after. See what I mean? There’s no way this doesn’t tie into Beth in some way.

Not to mention, the water aspect. If you remember, when I talked about 8x10 HERE, I said I might have found something that points to the sequence with Aaron in 5x10 not only making him a Beth proxy but also pointing to the helicopter group, right? Well, here it is. Let me start at the beginning.

A couple of things Michonne said here in 8x12 really jumped out at me. Maggie, Michonne, Enid, and Rosita were all debating whether to go meet Georgie. Michonne was the only one who really wanted to. Maggie and Enid were both arguing that it was too dangerous, Rick wanted them to stay put, etc.

Michonne said (and I paraphrase) “The last time we took a chance like this, it changed everything, and Rick didn’t agree with me then, either.”

The “it changed everything” really jumped out at me because I was thinking that something about meeting Georgie would change everything, and that screams Beth to me.

So, take a step backward and look at this from a bird’s eye view. If all of AOW is a foreshadow for a coming war with the helicopter people (and I’m operating from the idea that it is), then we have Georgie showing up in the middle of it and giving them something that’s going to change everything.

Back in S8, I’m sure we all hoped that whatever that was (Beth) would show up right then and turn the tide of the war (AOW). Obviously, that didn’t happen, and Georgie hasn’t figured in that war or the Whisper War at all, which means this is symbolic and foreshadows something else (helicopter war, most likely).

But what Michonne is specifically talking about is when they took a chance on Aaron in 5x11 and it paid off because they found Alexandria, which became their new, permanent home.

So, we have Aaron being a Beth proxy in those episodes for obvious reasons we’ve discussed before (Beth dialogue, symbolism, etc.). Plus, he left TF water in the middle of a drought, and we know the helicopter people will probably have clean water, when others don’t. And of course there’s that pesky music box.

But now we have Michonne referring to meeting him in the midst of this Georgie thing. So, if he’s a Beth proxy, I think Georgie must be as well.

There are also other things we can point to around Georgie. She’s blond. The two “As” in the title of the book: A key to A Future. Also Key Theory.

I also noticed that she said the book was full of medieval machines for them to build because she wanted them to “build a future from our past.” Given that Beth is a part of TF’s past, that line could definitely apply to her.

So yeah. Not tons more to say about this episode. (Again, I’m not going into the detailed symbolism because I’m only looking for new and more broad interpretations, so if you want the details, read these: X, X, X.)

But my basic thoughts are that Georgie definitely connects with Beth in some way. We all already thought that after seeing this episode back when it first aired, but I’m feeling it much more powerfully, now, and once Beta and the rest of the Whisperers are dispensed of, the Commonwealth story line will be right around the corner.

Thoughts?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theorie #team delusion #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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sugarysweetsprites · 5 years ago

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ALL THIRTY OF MY ENTRIES FOR FAKEATHON 2020 COMPILED BELOW THE CUT

ROUND 1: HOMETOWN MONUMONK - Derived from monument, monk

did you know I like maybe four miles away from a field of 109 identical 7 foot corn statues

FAKEATHON ROUND 2: THE USA ROBINOX - Derived from robin, autumnal equinox

Round one was our hometown, and I did my current city. But my childhood belongs to Connecticut, so I wanted to do a connecticuter. The american robin is the state bird of Connecticut, and as a part of New England it has a colonial history, hence the style. A type of garnet is the state gemstone, hence the species name.

Mostly though, I associate Connecticut with the vibrant autumns. The falls of New England are magic.

FAKEATHON DAY 3: CANADA CURTLE - Derived from curling, turtle

Very simple this one. Canada has a lot of curling events, right? Put the CURLING STONE. On the TURTLE. and you get the CURTLE. Dudes in this other server I’m in really love this one

FAKEATHON DAY 4: MEXICO CASOLURO - Derived from first two letters of the cards it’s based on; el CAtrin, el SOl, la LUna, la ROsa

A very fun one to work on. These are based on those Loteria cards - Specifically, the sun, moon, rose, and the dandy. The 4x4 grid on the inside of its cape is a reference to the 4x4 grid of a loteria play mat. Just threw crap at the wall here and got this funky friend.

FAKEATHON DAY 5: BRAZIL CAPYERA, CAPOBARA - Derived from capoeira, capybara

Not new designs, so much as designs I really needed to give another go. Much happier with these. And frankly, couldn’t think of a concept more wholly Brazilian short of slapping the flag on them.

FAKEATHON DAY 6: FRANCE CHÈVAÇAY - Derived from chèvre (French for goat), Chevalier (French for knight), valençay (French variety of cheese)

F🥐R🎨A🍷N🚬C🥖H

I stole the grease type from someone in that fakemon server it fit this cheesy boy too well

FAKEATHON DAY 7: SPAIN POMEGRIA - Derived from pomegranate, bandurria

Typically tried to avoid the lady-in-dress motif, but felt too justified here. Spain is home to pomegranates, with the blossom being the national flower. The body shape was inspired by the instrument the bandurria, with the base of the body being a halved pomegranate, and her “earrings” being both the tuning pegs and pomegranate seeds.

FAKEATHON DAY 8: UNITED KINGDOM MEMORI - Derived from memento mori, memory

I could’ve uh. Had this idea at a better time huh :^)

FAKEATHON DAY 9: ITALY MEDITIVE - Derived from Mediterranean, olive

Tried going more off-the-wall, but it didn’t quite work. Based on olive branches clearly - olive oil was often used as lamp oil, hence the fire typing. I meant for it to resemble a nuns habit or monastery robes, a la Italy’s heavy catholicism, with the floating olive leaf circlet as a halo. It was… good ideas that didn’t come together perfectly. Probably my least favorite of the lot

FAKEATHON DAY 10: NORDICS MINKJAVIC - Derived from mink, Reykjavik

Look when I think Iceland I always think black metal. This is the second time I’ve done a heavy metal pokemon. The first one was more badass. This one’s instead uh A lot : )

FAKEATHON DAY 11: EGYPT DJEDLY - Derived from Djed, deadly

One of the easiest to draw for… obvious reasons. Based on a canopic jar, sort of like an off-brand yamask or cofagrigus. It’s meant to open up twice; If you take off the lid, you see the fleshy eyeball dude in the lower corner. And if you pull that like a handle, you see what’s inside… and die with that knowledge : )

FAKEATHON DAY 12: ETHIOPIA CAFFIEND - Derived from caffeine, fiend

Obviously hyenas live in Ethiopa. But moreover, Ethiopia is also known as pretty much the birthplace of coffee, and coffee drinking/making is important to the culture. So I thought, why not make a hyena that’s super happy cause it’s always super hyped up on caffeine? Dunno if the electric typing makes much sense, I just thought caffeine = energy = electricity

FAKEATHON DAY 13: MADAGASCAR TENROCK - Derived from tenrec, rock

Tenrecs are endemic, yeah, but this wasn’t just based on a native animal. It was based on the land of Madagascar - specifically, the gorgeous and incredibly sharp structures of Tsingy de Bemaraha National Park. I’ll post a photo above the art, when I saw Madagascar was a theme day I knew I had to base something on that park.

FAKEATHON DAY 14: SAUDI ARABIA MASQAREEN - Derived from masquerade, Qareen

This is based on the Islamic idea of the Qareen. People don’t 100% agree on what Qareens are, but they are consistantly considered to be spiritual doubles - Every person has a Qareen associated with they’re spirit. This is based on one idea, them as dark spirits who attempt to lead their companion-spirit astray. I chose them because even though they’re evil from the start - hence the dark typing - they can become good based on their companion - in this case, trainer’s - actions and whims.

Since they’re counterparts to humans, I thought having them mimic humans would be fitting. It’s body is ALMOST humanoid, it’s many pink extremeties ALMOST resemble clothes. It would be a zoroark like situation, where it could make illusions to resemble human.

FAKEATHON DAY 15: RUSSIA MATEESHKA - Derived from mastryoshka, tea SAMOSHKA - Derived from samovar, matryoshka

Fun fact, I actually used to collect matryoshka dolls. Have a whole box of them in the basement somewhere. So I felt I had to. I have a thing for designs that look a little snobby, Samoshka certainly fits that little niche of mine : D

FAKEATHON DAY 16: INDIA BOVIQUIN - Derived from bovine, palanquin

I like ride pokemon, and I like customizable pokemon. So I made one that’s both! It’s supposed to be based on the water buffalo. The simple colors are because it’s supposed to be customizable - As in, the fabrics hung from it (and maybe the markings painted on it) could be swapped out, so I wanted something simple as a base. Sort of like Furfrou, but the customization doesn’t wear off

FAKEATHON DAY 17: CHINA LONGRUSH - Derived from Long (chinese for dragon), brush, rush

I expect here will be a lot of chinese dragons this round, I wanted to avoid the obvious. But… this is one of the best concepts I’ve ever come up with. The second I had the mental image, I knew that was it

FAKEATHON DAY 18: JAPAN SPIROUS - Derived from spirit, cirrus, pious

This is a myth from both China and Japan, but I associate it with yokai primarily. This is based on Hangonkō, incense that brings forth the spirits of the dead. Hence it’s body obscured by the clouds - It’s literally being summoned by the incense it carries. In retrospect, this could have been an interesting pokeball mimic with different colors.

FAKEATHON DAY 19: INDONESIA WHALEEN - Derived from baleen whale

The Philippines are home to the coral triangle, a stretch of ocean that’s home to a stupidly large amount of coral life. So I initially wanted a coral mon… but it’s known for its reefs. So why not make the whole reef?

FAKEATHON DAY 20: AUSTRALIA OPALINE - Derived from opal, mine

One town in Australia I’ve loved since middle school is Coober Pedy. Known as the opal capital of the world, it’s a desert town that’s so hot, almost all the residents live in houses carved into the ground. Even many businesses and hotels are underground! Coloring was fun on this dude :3

FAKEATHON DAY 21: ANTARCTICA SOUTHAIR - derived from south, hairgrass.

I wanted to do something unexpected. So rather than do that obvious penguin or similar, I went with southern hairgrass, the south most flowering plant. Did it’s closer meant to loosely resemble any wet clothes, but since there are no Inuit populations to Antarctica, only loosely. It’s species, the 1000-to-1 pokemon, Refers to both its chances of survival and the fact of the body is comprised of many many blades of grass

FAKEATHON DAY 22: SOMEWHERE HOT - DEATH VALLEY HELINDRA - Derived from helios, indra

The reason I chose the Indra butterfly is because it's native to death valley. I figure, if death valley gets HELLA sun, why not instead of it living in spite of the harsh sun, living so well because of it?

FAKEATHON DAY 23: SOMEWHERE COLD - GREENLAND STUFFIN - Derived from storm, stun, puffin

I know there are myths that say puffins can bring thunderstorms, so I thought why not turn a puffin into a storm cloud? But uh. It kind of just. Is a puffin isn't it :/

FAKEATHON DAY 24: ANCIENT CIVILIZATIONS KYTHURA - Derived from Antikythera, Urania

One of my favorite remnants of ancient times is the Antikythera Mechanism. It was an ancient Greek computer. With proper gears and mechanics and everything, that was used to plot the locations of the planets and the stars in stunning detail. This first go around turned out… not that great, I’ll be honest. But I wanna do something with the Antikythera Mechanism. It shouldn’t take TOO much tweaking to make this something I love

FAKEATHON DAY 25: FUTURE WORLDS COCOWATT - Derived from coconut, watt

One of my favorite images of the future is, instead of all streets having street lights, some having bioluminescent trees! I wanted to make something to that effect. Even though we have Exeggutor I chose palm trees cause they already have a street-lamp-like shape. Finally got to bust out my super neon pencils :3

FAKEATHON DAY 26: RANDOM COUNTRY - IRELAND AMANEELIE - Derived from amanita, unseelie

I have irish blood, so I wanted to do an irish mon. I took the idea of the fairie ring in a weird direction - when it extends its arms and the little purple "hands" touch, anything in the loop of its arm - the fairie's ring - will become hideously poisoned. Visually referenced the deathcap. Just like imagining these things in a secluded dense forest, floating along like swimming jellyfish

FAKEATHON DAY 27: THE OLYMPICS SYNCRA - Derived from synchronized, tetra

This is similar to wishiwashi, in that it's a schooling mon. But instead of it having a schooling form, it's ALWAYS in a school of five fish, constantly swimming in unison. Clearly based on synchronized swimming, I wanted the tails to be super long, so they'd flow all elegantly when they maneuver around. Kinda... power rangers in execution, innit

FAKEATHON DAY 28: THE OCEAN EXPLORB - Derived from explore, orb

The idea to turn the bathysphere into a pufferfish-like dude just came together really clearly in my head. I imagine their attack would be terrible but their defence would be amazing - basically, they aren't out to fight, they just wanna explore the oceans :3

FAKEATHON DAY 29: THE MOON MOOMOON - Derived from moomoo, moon

its the cow that jumped over the moon

FAKEATHON DAY 30: LEGENDARY CORRA - Derived from core, cor (latin for heart), terra

I figured, we’ve done every part of the earth this challenge… except the interior. So for the legendary representing the world, I based mine on the core of the earth. The body itself is meant to resemble the phylotypic stage of an embryo - the stage of development where most species are virtually identical. It cannot leave its lava bubble. At the center of its body is a heart glowing with all the colors of magma.

The FIRST person to make a legend of korra joke is getting slapped

#fakemon #fakeathon #fakeathon2020 #pokemon #My Art #Non Spritework

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faunusrights · 5 years ago

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‘AFTER THE FALL’ - LIVEREAD III

The more I hear about the latter half of this book, the more depresso espresso I’m drinking. Let’s see how it goes, huh?

(Since there’s more chapters in the latter half than the first half, short chapters will probably get combined together for the sake of. I’m lazy.)

CHAPTERS EIGHT AND NINE

I love that Velvet’s the one who enlisted Weiss and Yang, expecting shit to go sideways. She saw these two gays on main and went ‘they look like they can party’. Was she wrong? No. Did she invite Cinder for the express purpose of drama? Yes. Can you make me stop shipping Sinnamon Bun? Also no.

Okay, this book has read my mine though!!! Ruby pitches a Beacon Battle Club where they play music as they fight, and no word of a fucking lie, that happens in Great Weiss Shark AU! I am not kidding! I had this whole story planned out! This is theft of the HIGHEST order.

“Doilies are absurd and elitist,” Yang said.

This is simultaneously the least Yang-like line and also the most Yang-like line I’ve ever heard. The duality of idiot, I suppose.

I like Fox! I really do, actually! He’s my son now. Although, the bad news is I dunno if I can replicate him in The Frapp Logs, so he’ll just have to keep dragging Coco to the ends of the earth. Same thing, right? R-right?

“Leaders can’t be the comic relief.” Fox raised his eyebrows. “Jaune.”

Is this the second time Jaune’s been dragged? I’m living for it. Also, sleepy Blake! And CFVY knowing she’s (they’re) a Faunus! And the second book behind a book! I love you, Blake.

Velvet correcting Yatsu’s ‘catnap’ joke! I wrote a ficlet about this exact thing once, so I TOLD you my Velvet’s NEARLY CANON. SHE JUST NEEDS TO EAT MORE PROTEIN IS ALL.

Onto chapter nine. God, these chapters get thinner by the second, huh?

BACK TO THE DESERT WE GO, and there’s... fog? Which is now gone! Wow! Is this a plot device? Foreshadowing? I sure hope so, because why on earth it would warrant a mention we’re just not too sure!

A sandstorm is incoming and hidden tracks are gonna get blasted away. I’m trying to figure out if this is all pathetic fallacy or if I’m reading too much into handy-dandy plot devices. Why not both?

Heart-to-heart with Coco and Yatsu... and we’re back to Yatsu giving Velvet all the hugs. Now that I’m sensing the Velv/Yats vibes, I’m extra suspicious. You stop that. Let Velvet have a fashionable GF at least if you won’t let her kiss Weiss!!!

‘[...] even the women were down to halter tops. Focus, Coco, she thought.’

Ah, lesbian as always. I’m soothed. Carmine enters the tent and Coco gets even gayer. I’m very soothed.

‘What was Jaune doing after losing a member of his team, a friend... someone he clearly cared about.’

I don’t care about what Jaune feels. Why the heck would Coco even care? There’s literally so many more people that impacts than just Jaune, lawd.

CHAPTER TEN AND ELEVEN

Back to Fox, who is honestly the shining star of this book by now. I love you, my blind and sassy son.

I love Ada and the battle mechanic she has! I’m really enjoying how Fox interacts with the world around him and using his Scroll and AI as an accessibility device. It’s neat! I didn’t expect them to go as ham on him as they did, but they did.

“Update,” Ada said. “Weapon has projectile capabilities.” “You mean it’s also a gun.”

Obligatory gun meme.

Combat stuff happens, Fox wins a fight against a confused Edward, and it turns out Gus is the one summoning Grimm and Fox just got jumped, so we slide into another flashback for chapter eleven. Lemme tell ya, this book ain’t afraid of moving fast.

“I guess you slightly oversold your ability to track the survivors,” Coco said.

Again, this is one of those lines that reads as very... callous? Kinda mean? I’ve always had Coco in my head as someone who very broadly puts her team (and their feelings) first, even if it’s rough, so lines like this make me go 🤔

Velvet falls, Yatsu panics, Coco gets up in everyone’s grill. There’s a lot to this dynamic I am not enjoying right now, and even then this seems inconsistent with the CFVY we’ve seen in the book itself. I know the author’s trying to communicate that Coco is tired and frustrated, that I get, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t how... it would really happen given her character? I dunno. ‘S weird.

Was that a fat joke I spotted there? From Coco? I need a nap. Also COCO LET VELVET DO THINGS JESUS CHRIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!!!!!!!!!!

Coco has claustrophobia! I wrote her as having agoraphobia, so this is a hilarious turn of events. Also Coco has two brothers, not one: Mate and Toma.

Coco is fighting Grimm in a cave with CFVY, but still finds time to criticise Velvet in combat. Hey, maybe if you let her do things, she’d prove you wrong, dingus. And then she does! See!

Aaaaaaaand the six survivors are all dead. This was a pretty traumatic event, all told, which makes it weird that they look... less affected in the show? Still, this chapter was VERY weird for the characterisations because Coco seems especially inconsistent, alas. Anyway, onto:

CHAPTERS TWELVE AND THIRTEEN

The sandstorm is approaching and catching the wagons, which I have just realised are actually vehicles that use fuel. Mostly because that’s the First I Heard Of It.

‘Velvet noticed a pistol tucked in the back before she closed the door.’

Hi, can Chekhov please pick up his gun from aisle twelve? Thanks.

GIANT SAND TURTLE. AVATAR AANG C’MERE Y’ALL GOTTA LEARN HOW TO DEFEAT THE FIRELORD.

“You said it’s big enough to ride on?” Velvet asked.

Maybe this is why Coco dismisses Velvet so often. She only pitches the craziest ideas, which is why I love her. That said, Coco finally lets Velvet do something! It’s a miracle of man! Climb that turtle, bihh!

Yatsu calls Velvet V. I’m so used to Velv that V sounds entirely too cool for this idiot.

Everyone’s pissed again, but-- IS THAT THE SAND WORM THING FROM ARRAKIS?! What A Tweest!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nobody coulda seen THAT coming!!!!!

So let’s go to chapter thirteen, where Fox has had the shit beaten out of him behind a Denny’s. Sound about right.

So what’s-his-name-- Bertilak, whomst from now on shall be called Bert because what sorta water tribe name even is that (wow the ATLA references are on fire today). Anyway, Bert is being paid by someone else to deliver people with Stronk Semblances like summoning Grimm! Gee I Wonder Who That Might Be (I don’t actually know but I’m honestly not going to be surprised either way).

“Yeah, [Bert]’s a real bastard.” “Even I can see that,” Fox sent.

I love it. Fox really has been the highlight of this book for me.

Fox is on the ground and the referee is counting him to ten, so it’s mid-chapter-flashback time! We learn how Fox’s parents died (sinkhole) and how that became his motivation for... going to Beacon? Okay, tenuous link at best, but I’m going with it.

Carmine is full of trouble and Fox is determined to take Bert with ‘em. Let him DIE.

I’m gonna keep going since we’re not four chapters from the end, so:

CHAPTERS FOURTEEN AND FIFTEEN

Flashback time! Again! Only it’s CFVY’s POV of their return to Beacon. I wouldn’t mind this if like. We hadn’t already seen this from RWBY’s perspective in the show? People know this from my tastes in fanfic, but I’m not a huge fan of retellings of canon events, it’s soooooo boooooring. So I’m just gonna grind through this asap.

(I do like that RWBY and CFVY have all these parallels being called to. As they should.)

Okay we’re past the recap and OH LAWD I HEARD OF THIS BIT. Goodwitch is here (I love u Glynda no matter what) but yeah, I’ve heard this part is Big Oof so uh, let’s see this happen go down. Velvet is being requested to see Ozpin so /buckles down.

Velvet’s being questioned alone for the Whole Thing, and team CFVY have burst into the office demanding to know why, and Velvet’s a crying wreck! I’m still very >:I for everyone being overprotective of Velvet, c’mon, but also: Oz, can you please have tact? Just once in your life? Tact? Do you has it?

Anyway, CFVY have reconciled and we turn to chapter fifteen, in which: Yatsu.

Carmine has Gus, everyone’s on the Turtmobile, and shit’s hitting the fan. Yatsu’s going after Gus and Carmine alone, and I’m still waiting on Chekov’s Gun to Chekov its way right into someone’s butt. Unless it’s Chekov’s Red Herring.

Here comes a fight scene! I never have much to say during fight scenes, so, uh, yeah. There’s some real last-minute exposition in places, though, where it really shouldn’t be.

Eey, Carmine is telekinetic! Very powerful and also OP, gotta nerf that shit right down, Edward.

Yatsu’s very nearly defeated, Bert is back, baby, and shit’s getting real. Time for chaaaaaaaaaper sixteeeeeeeeeen.

CHAPTERS SIXTEEN AND SEVENTEEN

Today’s livereading soundtrack is Simple Things by Zero 7. The whole album, I mean. This is a fun little fact to make sure you’re still awake and aware, ‘cause I sure ain’t!

Roy Stallion of BRNZ is presumed dead, along with the whole team, so big RIP to May, who was cute and deserved better. Swear to God if ABRN are dead too I will kill a man. Two men, to be specific.

Velvet admits she never wanted to come to Vacuo, Coco promises they’ll return to reclaim Beacon in future. This reads like a protagonist’s last speech on hope and strength in friendship... and it should, as Coco gets swallowed by a worm! Straight up just down the hatch! This should be a tragic beat, but this is honestly so funny. Coco, pick better ways to die.

Anyway, we’re onto chapter seventeen. I was very kindly given this message:

And I-- OH HELL YES! HELL YES IT’S A SCHOOL DAY TIMETABLE!!!!!!!!!! THE LORE! THE CLASSES! THE NAMES! THE FACTS! THIS IS THE BEST THING IN THE ENTIRE BOOK SO FAR WHICH REALLY GOES TO SHOW I HAVE NO HOBBIES!

Is this a... flashback? Flash... forward? I’m not sure, actually. Either way, CFVY are in Beacon clearing the place of Grimm. Actually, this must be a flashback to before they went to Vacuo, I suppose, which would make sense to follow Velvet’s little admittance last chapter before Coco got swallowed like a paracetamol tablet.

Velvet waited for someone to ask her what she thought, what she wanted, by no one did.

Now I’m SAD why won’t people be NICE to VELVET just ONCE!!! God, this book really just gives her the short end of the stick every time.

Off go CFVY to Vacuo. Bye.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN AND EPILOGUE

Heremst we go.

Coco’s alive! I mean, no surprise. And full of the Joques as ever:

Coco figured sacrificing your life for a teammate was one way to be remembered as a good leader, but maybe that was just cheating.

RIP Coco and her claustrophobia! Hey, now that was good foreshadowing! That gets a whole Murphy Cookie of Approval. 🍪

Coco loses her Scroll and her hat, but Velvet swoops in to save the day! Meanwhile, Bert has been convinced that Carmine double-crossed him, so they’re battling it out! Basically, Gus cast frenzy. Finally, it works in everyone’s favour.

“I can’t believe I thought you were cute,” Coco spat.

Some lines in this book haven’t been very good. This one, on the other hand, very much is.

So Carmine goes underground and starts creating sinkholes everywhere like a weird desert gremlin, and Edward manages to block her Semblance and like. Carmine flat-out nearly suffocates herself to death. Another death I would have found both gruesome and hilarious for its irony. But Velvet uses Flynt’s trumpet to quite literally doot the sand away, and-- I’m so sorry, this line has me literally laughing to myself. She fuckin’-- doots the sand. Oh my god.

Anyway they win, catch up with Slate and the Nomad Fam, and meet team SSSN! The boys are back in town!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Things are looking good.

Epilogue time. I’m still laughing about the sand-dooting.

So, we don’t know who paid Bert and Carmine, I guess? I do believe there’s maybe a sequel or something in the works, apparently, so maybe this is part of an overarching plot type thingie. Still.

Ah, yep, Coco confirms that they’re not through with this line of investigation yet, But, Velvet wraps it up with a heart-felt, if not a little bit cheesy, segment about home being wherever CFVY is, and so the book comes to a close.

WRAP-UP

So, I’m definitely gonna have a second read-through of this without having to constantly stop and do a liveblog, but the book was... okay, I guess? I feel like this plotline wasn’t the greatest one for CFVY, and that the author doesn’t have a crazy good handle on the characters -- he’s likely more suited to original content, which is valid. It’s a good romp and we do get new lore, but as expected, I feel like CFVY would be best used in the show that conceived them in the first place. A book is nice, but I’d love to see their return in RWBY itself, especially since this book wasn’t really... long enough, I don’t think? Seriously, y’all’ve met me. I do write hundreds of thousands of words in this world and I still haven’t written everything I wanna yet! I’d also like to see more Velvet as seen in RWBY Chibi, in which was she Cool and Good, and maybe less Yatsu alongside her directly. But! It’s a book! It’s decent! It’s CFVY! For most people, it’s Good Enough. And they’re valid too.

#after the fall #after the fall spoilers #rwby #liveblog #liveread

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otome0heart · 6 years ago

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Megu~~ I want to ask you 8, 12, 13 and 17 from the FF writer asks, pretty please

Thank you! ♡8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Well, there are many things that can make me inspired: books, films, songs, prompts, plot holes in the original, research, my feelings if my favourite pairing ends up as a crack!pairing, misleading/ambiguous situations in the original, imagining the character(s) as adults or in AUs... And also, walks on the beach and rides on the bus (though these normally are better for writer’s blocks, especially the first one).

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Since I don’t know if you’re referring to SLBP or not (I’ve written only three fics about it -one is for the fanzine, that’s why it’s not published-), I’ll answer both things.

**In SLBP, I think it’s Mitsuhide. So far, he’s the lord I’ve written more about and it’s easy for me to do it, maybe because I love that type of characters, noble, righteous and sweet.

**Outside SLBP, it’s difficult. I have many favourite characters I love writing about. One of them is Tachibana Makoto (Free!), he’s so sweet and caring that its very easy for me to portray him and also, to put him in different situations and AUs. To include a female, Ryuuzaki Sakuno (Prince of Tennis). The good thing about being a NPC in a shounen manga is that the author barely paid attention to her. Since she’s not a fully fledged character, I have the freedom to imagine her past and future as I want (I wrote a whole lot of drabbles about her childhood :) ). Also, I identify with many of her traits so it’s easy for me to write her.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

Umm, it’s difficult too since I don’t really write for characters I dislike. And regarding characters I like, when my inspiration gives me ideas about them, I just follow what’s in my mind.

**In SLBP, even though she’s not a character per se, it’s MC. Since I started writing for this fandom, I decided not to use my own OC so it limits my creativity a lot. I can’t use names to avoid repeating pronouns so much and give her some “tangibility” (that’s why I describe her as she is portrayed in the CGs) and I can’t really go deep into her mind, so I end up writing more about the lords than about her.

**Outside SLBP, probably, characters who are very extrovert, hyperactive and make witty/funny remarks (Naruto, Nagisa (Free!), Ed (FMA)...). I’m the total opposite, so it’s difficult for me to portray them. I do it, but I keep on wondering if they’re IC constantly and reviewing their parts once and again.

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

**SLBP: “Bontenmaru, his pet turtle, had left its spot on a small rock he had put there so the animal could get out of the water and was walking across the container towards him, its neck stretched, as if it could not wait to be with him.” (No title, Kojuro’s AU).

**Other fandoms: “However, seeing her there, on her ownand in silence, seemingly so far, made him strangely uneasy and witha tired sigh, he lifted himself from the floor and walked to her.” (Forgotten Tales of an Ancient Time, SasuSaku AU).

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randomhomosapiens · 7 years ago

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Wounds- part two

Pairing : MC (not the original one) × Masamune

A warning : This may be getting pretty violent in the next chapters. There will a priori be mention of death, suicide, torture and scarification.

@manunelle, there it is !

Read Part one

War counsel

The week that followed the incident was unbelievably tiring. Since the old ghosts had decided to come back from the dead, another war was profiling and they had to get ready. Masamune’s territory of Oshu was a direct neighbour of Uesugi Kenshin’s province of Echigo. Preparing his region for war was now an utmost priority. Piles of paper were piling on his desk, and war counsels kept being summoned at impossible hours, inventory of the stock of powder and of other resources had to be done without delay.

He had no idea what the Princess was doing meanwhile, and it was honestly not his priority to know. Or that was what he kept telling to himself. But part of Masamune's mind was constantly rehearsing the warmth of her skin, her shudder and violent trembling when she had shove him away.

The broken smile she had given him preoccupied him.

And that scared him.

He was the One-eyed dragon. He did not worry about his future ; that was just not in his nature. But he couldn't get her expression of his mind. There was also the issue of her gesture. He didn't really mind being molested by a woman, and he wasn't against acknowledging one's talent. So why did it matter to him so much ? She had thrown him three feet away with only one hand. But it wasn't like she had really hid her strength and fight skills ; he supposed she just hadn't had the occasion to show it. Masamune wanted to believe she was genuinely honest and oblivious, he wanted to believe in those carefree smiles and truthful eyes.

But as Oshu’s liege Lord and vassal to Lord Nobunaga, as an accomplished tactician and warrior, he couldn't just let it slip. And he kept telling himself that was what irked him. He liked her a lot and he didn't want to find out she was related to god-knew-what plot. He needed to find out if she was a spy. Then, perhaps, at last, he could worry about her smile.

Just as Masamune decided he wasn’t going to be able to work on those stupid letters in this conditions, another -another !- war counsel was called. Again. He hated those chores, he wanted to see the princess, and he missed his kitchen. Bah, they would have summoned him in advance to try to get him to attend it on time - the fools ! being late was an art in itself.

“Milord, this isn’t the way to the main hall” Kojuro grumbled as his Lord strolled off in the wrong direction.

“Nope, it isn’t. I’m just gonna grab something to eat and get there. I’ll try to be on time, as usual” he snickered.

“As usual, he says …”

He had lied, of course. Oh, he did intend to make his way towards the main hall, but not without making a small detour by the lass’s chambers first … a bowl of ramen in each hand, he pushed the door and entered the room.

It was utter chaos.

Book laid half opened and scattered on the floor, kimonos and stolen hakamas could be found thrown around the room in random piles, paper were strewn everywhere around the room, and a small flora had begun to grow on a pile of branches and other vegetable waste that she must have picked up during her escapades in the woods. The shouji* were wide open on the outside.

This had to be a nice room; when it wasn’t in such utter disarray.

Masamune immediately put down the food on the sole empty place of the floor and scrutinized the room to look for more concrete traces of struggles. Had she been kidnapped ? He wouldn’t be surprised. Nobunaga, Ieyasu and himself had already enough enemies on their own as daimyos, and now that war was profiling, a woman that was known to be in their favor would be a valuable hostage.

Just as he was preparing to tell the others, he heard a light ruffle coming from the open shouji. He drew his katana immediately.

“Who’s there ?” he called threateningly.

“Crap.”

A dark haired head briefly poked out from behind the doors.

He sighed and sheathed his sword.

“Kitten, I can see you through the shouji. It’s transparent.”

“Masa ! I thought it was Hideyoshi.”

“And why were you hiding ?” he asked, feeling the smile coming to his lips.

“Well. I’m forbidden to go out without telling him. And also, … I may or may not be late for this counsel thing.”

She came into view and he noted that she was in this strange dark fabric again.

“Oh, you have to come too ? That makes two latecomers", he commented. “So what happened ?”

“What happened ?”

He gestured to the whole of her room. “Either there was a storm and you left the door open, or you’re just very bad at tidying things.”

“Don’t. It’s an organized mess. I know exactly where everything is”, she boldly lied. “But never mind that, is that ramen ? Can I have some, please ?”

“Well, shouldn’t you be at the counsel ?” he teased. He did cook it for her.

“You’re one to talk”, she replied quickly. “Alright, first I’ll get prepared then I can have the food. Can you hand me a kimono ?”

And she started to get dressed in a rush. She had her weird black clothes on again, and she had hastily tied a hakama to her waist, not even bothering to put on a kimono. As much as he enjoyed the inconspicuous sight of the side of her thighs, Hideyoshi and the others wouldn’t.

She had chosen an uchikake**. Weird choice. There was hardly anything more formal, and she didn’t strike him as a formal person. But as he looked over the rest of her kimono, he noticed most of it were uchikakes, and only one yukata*** and tomesode**** could be found. That was odd of the maids to choose such kimonos for her to wear, and he could now understand why she always ended in hakamas. It was a pain.

Masamune was going to ask her when she removed her hair clip. Her jet-black hair rolled in a dark cascade along her spine. He had never realized how long and deep they were, smooth like coal-colored silk. And yet so different from the straightness of the woman's in Azuchi. Her hair was a long wave that stretched from the top of her skull to the hollow of her waist. She obviously did not pay much attention to it, and leaves and twigs of all kinds were visible here and there. It curved and dove and folded in the most unexpected ways, yet it looked graceful and harmonious.

“No time to brush. Give me the food ?” she reached out to him.

“No powder ?” he dared ask with a smile.

He wanted to see her in a more sophisticated, less boyish style. She rolled her eyes.

“Powder ? With my skin tone ? I wouldn’t mind looking like a corpse, but I don’t think Hideyoshi’s heart could stand the shock”, she snickered.

“Ha ! Worth it”, he shrugged.

They made their way to the main hall, slurping their food on the way, competing for the place of the noisiest eater. Though she was extremely clumsy with chopsticks, and had to dive her face into the bowl to finish, she won.

“We’re here !”

“You’re late, both of you.”

They all rolled their eyes and Masamune barked a laugh while Hideyoshi was muttering under his breath about the man having a bad influence on her.

Mitsuhide made a side comment on her loose hair that was wavy and she shaped her fingers into pistols, pointing at Ieyasu and designating him as her "hair brother". That earned her a sharp “Quiet, madwoman”.

But most of the faces around them were grimm. That meant bad news.

She didn’t listen. She couldn’t. She was utterly bored and only attended the counsel because she needed to return in Hideyoshi’s good graces. She was half-sleeping and completely oblivious of the disapprovement of the other retainers. She didn’t hear when her name was called, and Masamune had to shake her awake.

“What ”, she yawned, obviously bothered.

“Don't sleep during counsel” Nobunaga ordered.

“I can't help it. I don't have any business being here. Why did I even had to come ?” she asked.

“Look around you, air-head” said Ieyasu.

All the other retainers were gone and they remained alone in the otherwise empty hall. The counsel was finished.

“Hideyoshi has requested you get another work at the castle. As you don't seem particularly eager to fulfill your role as Chatelaine” Mitsuhide stated. She didn't answer ; it was true. “As you showed a remarkable love for mobility-”

“Yeah, it's impossible to find you in the same place for more than ten minutes.”

“Don't interrupt me, Masamune. As I said, as you seem to like to be in constant movement, you're going to run some errands for the castle. Starting now.”

“Eh ? Pain” she dropped.

“Language !”

“Then it's settled, you'll find the maids to explain to you your daily chores” Nobunaga ordered. “Dismissed.”

“But I don't know the area, apart from the woods !”

“I volunteer to show the lass around and escort her”, Masamune said stepping in, before Hideyoshi could scold her for having been into the woods enough time to know it by heart. He had a grin pasted on his lips, but his eyes were more serious. He knew how she liked to get in impossible situations -much like him, in fact- but he was heartily worried for her safety. And … he wanted to investigate more on what happened between them the other day. It was his duty, after all, as an ally of Nobunaga, to the whole region of Owari, and to Oshu too. She didn't look like she minded, but he was curious. And- concerned.

*Shouji : In traditional Japanese architecture, a shōji (from the Chinese "bamboo fence") is a wall or door made of translucent rice paper (called in Japan, washi, literally "Japanese paper") mounted on a wooden frame. Shōji are generally referred to as sliding doors and retain space that would be needed for a hinged door.

**Uchikake : An extremely formal silk kimono with long sleeves and a train. It can be entirely white or predominantly red, gold and black. It is richly embroidered with many auspicious motifs such as phoenix, crane, turtle, bamboo, pine, plum blossoms. It is worn like a cloak over a generally white furisode (kakeshita) and is never closed by an obi.

***Yukata : The yukata is worn during summer festivals. It is known for its bright colors and simple design. It is an informal cotton kimono unlined worn by women and men regardless of their age. Compared to other types of kimonos, yukata is much easier to put on and stays much cheaper.

****Tomesode : The tomesode (literally "tied sleeves") is the most formal silk kimono for married women. He is struck with one, three or five blazon of the family and his motifs, which may be silver or gold, are concentrated in the lower part.

Note : in Japanese, words don’t have plurals, but for comprehension reasons, I had to put “s” at the end of some words.

Read Part three

#mc × masamune #ikesen masamune #date masamune #masamune date #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen sengoku : romance across time #one eyed dragon #oda forces #wounds #my writing

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years ago

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DESI DISCOVERS!

June 30, 1974

BY BEN FALKE, Sunday Group Writer

Who says they never come back? At 57 and in better physical condition than he's been in for years, Desi Arnaz has finished a pilot which he hopes NBC will convert to a prime time series.

The show is called "Dr. Domingo” and it's about a doctor in a small northern California town who adds to his income by acting as the local coroner and medical examiner.

"He's a cross between Marcus Welby and Columbo," says Arnaz gleefully. If "Domingo" never makes it as a series, Arnaz has four or five other projects in his hopper more than enough to justify the rent on his office at Universal, just around the corner from Lucille Ball Productions. (1)

Desi, who invented television reruns and syndication of hit shows, feels he still has some contributions to make to the medium he did so much to shape 25 years ago.

MENTION ARNAZ' name and most people think first of "I Love Lucy," those 180 merry half hours which, ever since they went into syndication, have been showing somewhere in the world virtually every hour of every day. A New York critic complained recently that one station in that city was showing "I Love Lucy" reruns five times a day!

Those who remember TV credit lines also recall Arnaz as the producer and occasional director of "The Untouchables," another series with gargantuan longevity. (2) Then there was "Desilu Playhouse," a quality anthology series which introduced many top film and stage stars to the small screen. Not to mention shows like "December Bride," "The Mothers-In-Law," "Guestward-Ho," and others whose ghosts still enliven daytime television.

"I quit the business in 1960 because it got to be a monster," Arnaz recalls now. (Actually, he says it "beez-ness" his Cuban accent still as thick as ever).

"At the beginning, It was fun but when you art in charge of three studios, with 3,000 people and 35 sound stages working all the time, the fun is long gone."

He and Lucy, after many stormy off-camera scenes, were newly divorced then, so Arnaz moved quietly out of Los Angeles to breed horses farther south, in Del Mar, and to fish and build a showplace hideaway house at Las Cruces in Baja California. He married again in 1967, to a non-show biz lady who shared his love of horses, and he even found time to teach a course in television at San Diego State College. (3)

DESPITE THE FACT that he is (he says) far from the multi-millionaire which all those reruns of "Lucy" and "The Untouchables" might lead you to suspect, Arnaz claims that it isn't money pressure that's bringing him back to work now.

“I'm okay for money if I don't live too long," he says with a chuckle. "The funny thing is that I never really cared that much about making money just for the sake of making money. I wanted to be able to take care of my family and to live well which I've done. The rest you never see anyway."

What prompted this particular comeback was a call from MCA-Universal boss Lew Wasserman last Christmas. "Lew used to be my agent when I first came out to Hollywood in 1940," Arnaz reminisces. "To show how low he was on the totem pole in those days, he used to pick me up at my house every morning and drive me to work and I was only making $1,500 a week!

"But Lew called me last Christmas and said, 'What are you going to do - play golf and fish for the rest of your life? Why not come to Universal and develop one show at a time? We'll handle all of those administrative details that you hate you just concentrate on the creative end.'

"Well, that sounded very appealing. I already had the idea for 'Dr. Domingo' from an old paperback mystery that somebody left in our Baja house, and to tell the truth, I was beginning to miss show business. After all, I've been in it since I was 16!"

SO NOW this onetime boy bongo player (4), bandleader and star of many a film musical before he and Lucy developed TV situation comedy, is back behind a producer's desk.

"Television comedy has changed a lot since we did 'I Love Lucy,'" he admits. "I don't think you could do a show like 'Lucy' now but some of the things we learned from doing it are still important. "You still have to have a viable premise, not only for the series as a whole but for each individual episode.

"You also need a cast that works together to produce a kind of chemistry. The audience has to like them as people as well as characters in the show.

"That's where we were so lucky with 'Lucy.' I found Vivian Vance playing a prostitute in a play in La Jolla (5) and signed her up on the spot. Then I said to myself, 'What have you done, you mad Cubano? Suppose Lucy doesn't like her?' Luckily, they got along splendidly from the start it could have been a disaster."

How did he invent the rerun?

"I didn't do it on purpose, I swear," he says jokingly. "I never even allowed reruns of 'Lucy' during the summer which was only 13 weeks in those days. But the reruns got started because we made the big decision to do the show on film instead of doing it live the first time anybody had thought of it.

"They wanted us to do the show live in New York in front of an audience. Lucy works best in front of people. But we didn't want to move to New York; we had just bought a new house and we liked it in California.

"When CBS bought the show, they gave us a total budget of $19,500 a week - you can't even hiccup on television for that now. I said to them, 'Let us film the show in California, that way you'll have a much better quality print... and we can stay here.'

"They wanted to know how much more it would cost that way; I had no idea so I picked a number out of the air - $5,000 more a week. Now Lucy and I had been getting $5,000 a week between us, plus 50 percent of all rights in the show.

"CBS came back and said okay, they'd give us the extra $5,000 if we would take a salary cut to $4,000 a week. Again out of the blue, I said, 'Okay but then we have to own 100 percent of the show' never thinking they'd say yes. But they agreed, and we wound up owning everything."

ASIDE FROM such show business triumphs, Arnaz gets most pleasure from talking about his family his daughter Lucie, and son Desi Jr.

Desi Jr. began his film career with "Red Sky at Morning"; his latest picture is "Billy Two-Hats." (6)

"I always' knew Desi would make' it," his father says now, "but Lucie was always so stiff and shy when we brought her on the show that I thought she'd be a teacher or something. I never dreamed she'd want to act. But she has just landed the lead role in the touring company of 'Seesaw,' so big things could be happening for her, too." (7)

Arnaz is currently putting his life together into a book, for which he reportedly is getting a $125,000 advance. (8) Despite the stormy scenes he and Lucy used to have when they were married, he says it won't say anything bad about his former wife, co-star and business partner.

"We're friends now," he insists. "We gave a little family party for young Desi on his 21st birthday last year. I looked over at the two kids standing together and said to Lucy, 'If we never did anything else, that makes it all worthwhile.' And she agreed."

# # #

FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) “Doctor Domingo” did not become a series. The character was introduced on an episode of “Ironside” titled “Riddle at 24,000″ as a ‘backdoor’ pilot. It aired March 14, 1974.

(2) Desi was never credited as director of any episodes of “The Untouchables”. That doesn’t mean he didn’t step in or assist, as he did on some episodes of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”, but he was never credited.

(3) On March 2, 1963, Desi married Edith Eyre Skimming Mack Hirsch aka Edie in Las Vegas, Nevada. The remained married until her death in 1985, just a year and a half before Arnaz’s passing.

(4) Conga drums, not bongos. This is a frequent error by journalists.

(5) Vivian Vance was appearing in the 1943 John Van Druten play “The Voice of the Turtle” at La Jolla Playhouse. Vance had also appeared in the play in the mid-1940s when she had a nervous breakdown, and had to leave the cast. She played Olive Lashbrooke, described as “a promiscuous, worldly girl, questioning the practicality of the lessons in chastity she received as a child and wondering if she is alone in her passion.” Vance, who had Broadway credits, did not appear in the Broadway production. When the film was made, Olive was played by Eve Arden. Vance acted opposite KT Stevens, who played Mrs. O’Brien (the new tenant plotting to ‘blow up the capitol’) on “I Love Lucy.” In some productions, Hayden Rorke (Mr. O’Brien) also appeared in the play.

(6) Red Sky at Morning was released in May 1971. Desi Arnaz Jr. won a Golden Globe as Most Promising Newcomer, Male. His character was named Billy...

Billy was also his character name in Billy Two Hats, released in March 1974.

(7) Lucie Arnaz has stated that she never appeared on “I Love Lucy.” Desi is probably referring to her early appearances on “The Lucy Show” as Cynthia, a character seldom seen but often spoken about. From Hartford in April 1974 to Los Angeles in September 1974, Lucie toured the Broadway musical Seesaw to a dozen cities with John Gavin and Tommy Tune.

(8) Desi Arnaz’s autobiography was titled A Book. It was first published in 1976 by Warner Books. It covers Desi’s life up until 1960. In 2018, an audiobook was released read by Juan Pablo Di Pace.

#Desi Arnaz #Lucille Ball #Desilu #Lucie Arnaz #Desi Arnaz Jr.#A Book #Red Sky at Morning #Billy Two Hats #Seesaw #Vivian Vance #Voice of the Turtle #edith hirsch #I love Lucy #ironside #Doctor Domingo #Detroit Free Press #1974

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awellboiledicicle · 7 years ago

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Miss Mockery Au[JJBA] Chapter 1

Title: History of Genius Alternate Title: Baby Geniuses Word Count: 10,412

Summary: This chapter introduces Aja, an enthusiastic child, and her friendship with Kars and ACDC over time and Kars’ crazy plan to conquer the sun using stone masks.

There are few things that pleased Aja, an ever curious child, more than finding new and exciting ways to sneak above ground and eat things that by all accounts she should not have been eating.

She would often be found, sometimes mere moments ahead of the dawn, laying spread out on a rock-- her eyes wide and sparkling as the first fingers of sunlight shot through the velvet of the sky. Sometimes she wore a hole into the ground, having slowly absorbed the foliage underneath her and having begun to take in the minerals. Other times she could be found slowly draining the life out of a tree she was sat against, while she slowly made a tower of dirt before her, tongue stuck out in frustration. On occasion she’d simply wear her way through a wall in the caverns they lived in and lick the walls of said depression out of the sheer interest in what it was made of and if she could in fact do it.

Her parents were, naturally, rather concerned.

Not because she refused to absorb animals or humans brought to her-- she had a more than healthy appetite-- but because she’d take to pulling them apart while partially absorbed and musing over the discreet sections before consuming them fully. Curiosity was natural, yes, but a young person could not be considered usual when their skin often simply absorbed things she felt were annoying, instead of restricting herself to food items. They worried to each other and to their friends that she may solidify too much when she had her first true sleep, taking longer to come back awake due to her heavy diet, and something bad may happen to her.

While children were under a certain age, bodies still growing and their energy reserves much smaller than their adult counterparts, they routinely fell into a light slumber. Their skin hardened hardly at all, and they were very easily awakened as apposed to the eon long sleep their parents could take. They also tended to sleep much more frequently-- spending almost all of the day and a good chunk of the night with their eyes lightly shut and snoring. Aja’s skin hardened almost as much as your average turtle shell. There was also the matter of the more a child could eat, the better off they were later. The few parents in the Pillar Men could attest to the fact that a heavy baby was a child destined to be stronger and more capable. Heavy was not supposed to refer to any mass gained by digesting rocks, dirt, and plant life.

Aja ignored her parent’s concerns and continued to absorb any kind of rock she could get her hands on to analyze it, to taste the distinct make up of the material, and-- much later, when she had finer control-- to work what she was holding into shape using the enzymes in her cells. She was rather fond of forming the stones into little figures of people, using her pinkie finger to wear crude faces into the stone.

Additionally, after one of the few older children in her clan had struck her arm with a spear by mistake-- he’d been playing with his parents things and tried to show off to the others, the point whipping around and catching her cheek--that something in her diet had made her skin extremely resilient. That was not to say that a particularly dedicated person couldn’t injure her, or that she was immune to every physical malady, but she was eventually known as one of the hardier members of the clans.

That being said, everyone was expected to have some form of role-- and her resilience was, the elders presumed, a mark of a future warrior and they referred to her as such.

Aja held no illusions about this assumption-- the idea that she would be a great warrior, in all honesty upset her. She had a particular aversion to fighting itself, her mindset being that it was entirely unnecessary. It felt like a waste of energy and time to fight anyone or anything overmuch when she could simply absorb the problem and go about her business.

This approach did not win her many friends, as most older Pillar Men felt her willingness to partially absorb others until they agreed to leave her alone was antisocial at best, deeply concerning at worst, and the few her age were busy being otherwise normal. No one wanted to befriend the rock eater, who would just as readily attempt to eat you as her dinner.

She did manage to find one friend among her age group, as wide as that range was, however, and he was one that deeply troubled her parents. Not because the boy was in some way troublesome; in some ways their daughter befriending the child of a clan head would be the best thing for her-- if only to ensure she didn’t grow up alone and without connections. It was more that he could best be described as sullen and haughty, if he bothered to interact with people at all, prone to moodiness.

The boy’s name was Kars.

They had met one evening while she was attempting to wear a hole through several cave rocks to let the light in through progressively smaller apertures, under the theory that eventually the sunlight would be ineffectual against her. The thought being that, finally, she would be able to see this forbidden time of the day in a safe way. If she was the first and only to see it, she was fine with that. Kars, for his part, was attempting to sneak outside to hide in the shadow of a rock and watch the sun as it came up before fleeing. Logically, he thought, a shadow happened because light couldn’t get past something and that meant he would be safe.

He’d padded his way up from the caverns, determination clear on his face, and was so focused on his task that he’d been rather startled when a rock-- tossed over Aja’s shoulder as she was done with it-- landed at his feet.

He had demanded to know what she was doing, thinking she was doing the unthinkable in copying him, and she demanded to know where he thought he was going-- having rather grown accustomed to being the one and only child to sneak out topside, she felt she was the one being copied.

After some of the standard ‘how dare you’s and ‘what are you doing then’s, pointed fingers and stomped feet, they decided to just introduce themselves and tell each other what they were up to-- like the mature children they were. They each presumed that the other would be entirely surprised and impressed by their critical thinking, since they obviously had thought beyond their adult clan members.

“I am going to go be the first to see the sun.” Kars had declared, pointing to the mouth of the cave. A self assured look was on his face, though it was slightly less imposing than one would think, due to the presence of ample baby fat cushioning his cheeks. “I have a spot to climb up to, and I will come back in before it can even touch me.”

“Ooh, I was going to see the sun too!” Kars looked moderately put out that this strange girl hadn’t immediately professed his genius. She dropped the replacement rock she’d obtained, and hopped to her feet. She didn’t bother to wipe the dust off of her knees or her clothes as she happily skipped over to him. “I was going to make it go through holes though, so it’s less bright.”

She’d said it with a wide grin, like he was supposed to immediately see where she was going with this.

“Explain.” His eyes narrowed and little eyebrows knit together as he tried to figure out her logic. It wasn’t a question, but a demand and usually she would have been annoyed-- but this boy was interested in the sun as well and that meant they were a team. They weren’t, so far, but they’d get there. She had decided.

“Well,” Aja tapped her chin, thinking about how to describe it to someone. After a moment she made a soft ‘oh’ sound and rocked back and forth. She held up her hands, so her fingers crossed over one another into a sort of lattice. She pushed them up against her face. “You know how if you do this with your hands, but you look really close, you can see how things look? But kinda fuzzy, like it’s really far away?”

Kars nodded, linking his fingers together, but forgoing pressing them to his face. He had a good imagination and felt no need to look as silly as she did in that exact moment.

“That’s what I’m doing with the rocks!” She smiled and waved her hands at the rocks she’d already worked through, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Every time I go outside at night, and the moon is super big? It glows so bright and if you lay under a tree-- the leaves block the light, but you can still see it! I saw that the moonlight goes between leaves like that, but you can still see the moon-- but a tree isn’t big enough to stop the sun-- it doesn’t gotta, because it can be outside in the daytime. But the light did get less under the tree, I know because there was a shadow-- but the light under the tree was fuzzy when I looked up, so I thought that if the sunlight got fuzzy on the way, it wouldn’t hurt us.”

“What makes you think that?” Kars, honestly, wasn’t sure about this line of reasoning, but he’d honestly been too busy reading about things to go look at leaves. He hadn’t really seen the moon more than a few times, so honestly he couldn’t really dispute it.

“Because!” She grinned, bright teeth glinting in the low light as she wiggled to and fro. Aja’s hands smacked together in a clap and she bounced, all self assurance and exuberance. “Fuzzy things are soft. Like, deer and bunnies are soft, yeah? Soft things are good, and usually really bad at hurting things. A rabbit can’t eat you, and you can touch one just fine.”

Kars had to admit he wouldn’t peg a rabbit for hurting someone, so he nodded, seeing the logic there. He did, however, deeply want to know when this girl pet a rabbit because he’d tried very hard to catch one once and lost it down a hole. He tried very hard to focus.

“So, if we make the light go through enough rocks, since leaves can move too much-- and rocks are bigger and stronger than leaves--it’ll get fuzzy and soft and we can see the sun!”

“How do you know how big to make the holes, though?”

Here is where she tilted back and forth a bit and rubbed at her fluffy green hair.

“Well, I don’t. Not really, but I figure if we made enough of them it’ll go OK. I mean, there’s lots of holes between leaves and they’re all different sizes, so one’s gotta work.”

“If you get it done faster, could we test it by looking through at each other? To see how fuzzy we look?”

She lit up. “Yes! Kars, you’re so smart!”

He preened under the praise, as he was wont to do, and told her to wait there for him.

He could use the intellectual company, he decided, and retrieved his only other friend, ACDC, from where he was digging around in the dirt and playing with sand. Aja was never quite sure how Kars got one of the more emotional younger children to help break into the rocks, but he did it. ACDC was honestly simply glad to be there, but made a rather large show of making disgusted noises while they absorbed the stone. Kars informed him flatly that he’d seen ACDC shovel dirt directly into his mouth before, and ACDC started crying-- feeling like Kars was making fun of him. Aja patted his hair and told him it was OK, dirt just tastes good sometimes.

Their parents collectively had heart attacks when dawn drew near and the three were found peering into a rock near the mouth of the cave, arguing back and forth on whether the sunlight would even make it far back enough into the cave to reach the rock they were at.

Their respective parents had swooped in on them and scooped them up, carrying them inside with promises of being grounded and the full on scolding they’d all get in private.

Kars was mildly impressed that Aja’s reaction-- after ACDC kicked and screamed in his father’s arms before just going limp and crying-- was to try to absorb through her mother’s arm and reattach herself on the other side. It didn’t work, of course, getting only an inch or two in before being pushed back, but he was amused. Aja felt Kars’ look of silent offense at his mother was impressive, considering who she was and the fact he was being pulled along without a chance to resist.

This and incidents like it, often lead to the three of them keeping themselves busy in the same area, which to Kars was akin to a high energy play date. This was primarily because Kars generally felt other people weren’t worthy of his conversation, and when he did decide they were good enough, he was still rather controlled. He had to admit to himself, after a while, that he would rather have these two around him than no one and resolved to never say that sentence aloud. His only friends being an outcast rock eater and a toddler, as far as he was concerned, wasn’t much of a thing to praise.

Not that the other two strictly needed him to say he liked them; the fact he’d stop reading whatever he’d picked up to talk to them, or would seek them out to sit by while the other two played with rocks Aja had warped, was enough to tell them he was happy in their company.

ACDC got them to go exploring with him, though his idea of exploring was wandering the parts of the caverns he wasn’t allowed to be in. Kars and Aja, while they had to admit it was fun to sneak around and run away really fast when discovered, felt wandering around inside was going to get redundant and boring eventually. To combat this boredom, they decided to go exploring topside, and began their forbidden exploration in earnest.

New places for the boys, found primarily through wheedling Aja about interesting places she’d managed to explore when she would sneak outside, and then getting lost together, were always a treat for her. Mostly because the joy in seeing Kars light up as they found a field of flowers hidden in a thick stand of trees, or ACDC jumping in a lake and squealing about the temperature-- it was invigorating to her. They could only explore a few hours from home, but that was more than enough for the trio. Giant trees that loomed so high none of them could see the top, bright birds that they’d find nestled in for the night, animals with big, round eyes. Sweltering sub-caves full of giant white crystals that ACDC immediately dared the others to lick, only to realize Aja was already absorbing her way through the side of one. Kars opted to just absorb from the surface and be done. They’d climb cliffs and find waterfalls that Aja had only heard in the jungle, working together to climb up and over certain areas and then basking in the spray.

They collectively discovered Kars’ affinity for woodland creatures-- in that if they sat outside long enough, something or another would find it’s way to him. He primarily enjoyed when fawns came to them, if only because they were so ungainly, but they had soft fur on their heads, and gentle noses and would curl up by them. He might absorb an injured animal here and there, but preferred to stalk a group of humans.

The other two proceeded to turn it into a game—who could lure out and catch a human before the others noticed, and then they’d all share the meal before running home. They were also very careful never to tell their parent’s about it, for obvious reasons. No one needed to know the two older children were dragging ACDC into big kid experiences.

The three also fostered a deep interest in plants, after they quite literally tripped into another field of wildflowers. The blooms were full and bright in the grass, seemingly just for them. It took no time at all for them to realize there were several kinds there, and to turn them into flower jewelry.

Soft blue flowers were braided into Kars’ hair, ACDC and Aja doing their best to not have the plants slip out of his mane; by this point ACDC was starting to notice the size difference between them and complained. Kars dutifully laid on his stomach so the younger pillar man could reach his hair as well as Aja. She was next, and Kars personally wove small red flowers into her hair, deciding ACDC didn’t have the dexterity for it even if he could reach. The elder two then put pale yellow flowers in ACDC’s short and curly hair, soothing his crying about being called clumsy. His hair was more kinky and curled than theirs was, so they resolved simply to knot the stems around small bunches of hair and press it down to keep it in place.

Their parents were, and continued to be, horrified.

To combat their willful natures, and perhaps to avoid an early death via child induced stress, their parents reached an understanding. A few supervised play dates each month, and then keeping the rest of their time occupied by learning something.

Aja was kept more in the family cavern, being taught about the different food sources their people employed, the hunting grounds mapped out carefully to coincide with an abundance of prey. Her mother and father eagerly harnessed her natural curiosity into planning theoretical hunting patterns, how the best and most tender meats could be collected for consumption in enough quantity for everyone while also ensuring there would be enough left alive so that the population continued. She sank herself into the study of human migration patterns, into their inner mechanisms; if there was an underlying logic to what they did and how they did it, if it could be used to her people’s benefit, she was determined to learn it. She was also deeply interested in the effects on the body with a more varied diet; surely her strange habits had influenced her body, and the far more run of the mill meals her family ate had influenced theirs. There was no shortage of food for her people, and she was very invested in ensuring that this wouldn’t change.

Kars, at the behest of his mother, was encouraged to study more of history and other things he found rather boring, like the rules and laws of their people. While he did read and learn, even managing to find things he felt were interesting here and there, he often found himself staring at a book he’d already finished to buy himself some time to daydream. Sometimes about his friends he hadn’t seen in a while, kept apart by his mother insisting he should act his age, and sometimes about what it would be like to see some of the places they’d wandered bathed in sunlight. He’d been told the sunlight burns, destroys your body and soul if you touch it, but if it burned-- surely that means it should be warm. Would it be warm like the fires used to forge the weapons that the hunters used, or would it be warm like the feeling of he and his friends falling into a light sleep as they waited for sunset? He remembered having followed Aja’s lead in a mad dash up the side of a nearby mountain to find a great flat rock, still hot after the summer sun had left it. He remembered laying on it with her and ACDC, entranced by the feeling. It was so, so much warmer than he’d imagined. Blood was about as warm, but in a different way. It cooled much too fast, while the stone’s heat lasted for hours as they looked up at the stars. He wondered, often, if they could find a way to soak up that heat themselves. This didn’t help him study, but it did help him start making plans.

ACDC was corralled into actual warrior training, being ran through his paces to be a hunter, a fighter, and a protector should the need arise. He held more than enough promise in this area, though he still had a tendency to wander off to find his friends if he wasn’t supervised. That being said, he was serious when it was demanded of him, and the routine of weapons training soothed his emotions when he got riled up. He knew, of course, that little cropped up to be dealt with-- though he assumed he was being taught on the off chance the clans decided to mix things up. He worked diligently to learn strategy and tactics-- and found he was rather good at them.

They would see each other rarely, but when they did meet up it was a meeting of the minds. Those minds generally concluded that it was deeply unfair that no one aside of their little band was interested in the surface in quite the same way. Short sighted, if one were to ask Kars-- though no one really had to ask. Aja agreed to the extent that she wanted to know why, in the name of everything underground, certain creatures could walk in the sun and they weren’t allowed. ACDC, who was often simply content to discuss their next expedition above ground, agreed.

It was then that Kars began speaking seriously about taking the daytime, and though the other two were on board, the practical challenges were a stumbling block. He assured them that, between his mother’s nagging and his learning-- he would figure it out, they just had to trust him.

Aja, when they had all three reached an age where you simply cannot be controlled by your parents any longer, informed her friends that she had set her mind to exploring-- she had tasted every mineral, every plant, every animal within one nights walk.

She wanted to see more, and to do that meant leaving the sure safety of the caves. She had made a very logical and inspired speech to the clan heads about finding what was beyond them. She brought the fact that if their population did grow suddenly, or if something were to occur that wiped out local food sources, they could be reduced to something akin to her unusual dietary habits. The previous information on these things was ancient, even by their standards, and very little existed of what laid beyond their territory.

None of the elders wanted to think about it; the idea of their proud people reduced to surviving off of foliage or insects alone was too unsettling to bear while they relished their comforts. They agreed, after weeks on weeks of debate, to allow her to take a small group of people with her-- to explore, record, and return with whatever she could find of interest.

Aja was given a thousand years to study the world and report back, the stipulation being she had to do so before she slept.

Her two friends wished her well, though Kars bemoaned that he had to stay home because of obligations his mother had invented to keep him in place.

“You would think, at twenty thousand years she would stop being so overbearing.” Kars face was full of dissatisfaction, now a young man by their standards and with the spirit of a hemmed in teenager. Aja felt it was amusing, seeing his enthusiasm over her expedition turn to frustration and back as the three discussed where she planned to go. “Nothing here is that interesting, but think of what we could find out there with you.”

“Don’t worry,” She smiled her warm smile and slung an arm around his shoulder; something no one else would be allowed to even think of doing, aside of ACDC who’d been suffering a growth spurt as of late. “I’ll bring back every interesting rock I can.”

He snorted and ACDC, who had been bundling up weapons on the off chance she may need them, looked a bit more excited than he really should be.

“Think you could bring back something alive?” The older two snorted at him, and his cheeks darkened. “I just want a pet, alright? I saw someone playing with a lizard and then they ate it.”

Kars made a displeased noise and shook his head.

“I can try, AC.” Aja moved to hug him and he looked thoroughly put upon with the affection, but smiled a little. “I might bring you something from the ocean!”

He perked up at that; even with the longer legs that growing had afforded them, and the stamina they had cultivated, running to the ocean was not something they had managed.

“Just ensure you don’t die.” Kars intoned as she was preparing to leave their little meeting spot. Aja grinned widely and nodded. “I still have plans we need to work on.”

“Your sun plan?” It was said with amusement and was met with a roll to his eyes. She giggled at his expression. “I’m sure a thousand years will give you enough time to have an outline.”

“You’re going to come back,” His eyes narrowed. “And ask where I am, and my mother is going to say they can’t find me, because I moved into the sun. That’s how thorough I am going to be, it won’t even take me the full thousand years.”

“Right, just keep ACDC from eating anything interesting without me.”

“Never.” ACDC shook his head and pushed the bundle of weapons into her hands with a smile. “Besides, you’re going to come back and I'll be bigger than you.”

Aja laughed her way home, excited about the expedition.

Three thousand years later, she returned with a sheepish expression and stacks of reports.

She was a few people lighter, several hundred pounds of samples heavier, and her group was universally upset at how long they’d been gone into the wilderness.

The elders were furious, demanding to know the reason for their delayed return. Aja’s team told stories of Aja taking them far to the north, then east to west. Of years spent studying the geysers of water that spewed up around a massive volcano, Aja submerging herself in the mineral rich water, absorbing mass quantities, and even following the tunnels to their source-- before being shot skyward with the boiling water. She dyed herself different colors from the sheer number of flowers she’d absorbed, determining if they could be useful. The group studied the great animals of the warm north, and then those in the farthest frozen reaches of the landmass. As a group, they were horrified by the conditions there-- it was far too cold, even with the months of darkness that would allow for unending movement, and there was far too little to eat. Aja had posited that they could very well have survived on the sea life, after she’d spent a solid week floating under an ice sheet. She’d watched the light come filtering through the ice, the thickness and imperfections blocking enough sun that she was safe. She had written its description down in excruciating detail for later.

It was breathtaking and it prompted her to direct the group toward the ocean on either side of the continent. They tested the depth of the ocean, seeing how the pressure effected them, how the creatures in the deep tasted.

Humans, they observed there, were a lot more scarce-- or so they appeared from afar. The team refused to accept the suggestion that they interview these humans, and insisted on just absorbing them after not seeing humans in so long, but Aja stood firm on it. There was nothing to be gained by going somewhere just to destroy what they found.

She explained carefully to the elders that what they had found was invaluable: the world above ground had changed much more than the records had stated. While their local area had been reasonably untouched-- in terms of how they perceived the weather, at any rate-- but the ice in the north had been steadily progressing southward, killing much of what couldn’t or wouldn’t leave. Aja believed, from what they had seen in the couple hundred years they observed the ice itself, that it would eventually expand to cover all of the land they knew humans lived on. On the upside, she felt if their people worked to conserve the local population-- practicing animal husbandry like her team had seen humans do with their dog creatures, hunting in moderation, so on-- they may be able to weather the change until it passed.

The elders, intensely frustrated with the delay and having lost their foremost thinkers to this wild run through the world for several thousand years, rejected her proposal. Their way of life was comfortable and well fed, and none of the findings she reported were convincing after her disobedience.

Aja was deeply upset as she was dismissed and her team disbanded. She grudgingly stored all of their samples and records in a side cavern she claimed with a cloud hanging over her mood.

For decades after her return, she worked tirelessly to analyze what they brought back, pouring over journals they’d kept and the preserved specimens she’d brought back. Weeks would pass before she remembered to go eat something, venturing out to absorb the largest source of nutrients possible, and then returning. She focused on shaping some items using her enzymes and watching the reactions, and left others. She experimented with things like refraction in stones and minerals, with magnetism, and with chemical reactions between different samples.

One of her many experiments, inspired by a small group of humans they observed before absorbing them, was to control the growth of plant life. Or, more specifically, control when it took place for the end goal of whatever the plant grew into. Her first move was to bore a series of small tunnels from an alcove in her workspace to the surface, to let in sunlight when it was time. This excavation took more stretching and triangulation than expected, but eventually an arm sized chimney was worked into the rock. She fitted the opening into her chamber with a stone that blocked all sunlight from escaping out of the space. Inside this trough, she placed soil. Then, in that soil she placed some seeds from the plants she grabbed on the way back.

The process of making plants grow underground took much of her ingenuity; what soil was right, why it was right. What make up made the right soil, why were some things growing and others not. Was the rain running down the canals when it rained enough water, or should she supplement. Should she do it during the day, when it would require some form of device to administer, or should she simply make things easy and water during the night? Did it matter?

As she worked, she had few visitors. Those that did come were from the parts of her family that hadn’t decided that she was too embarrassing to associate with, and other members of her clan that pitied that her enthusiasm was being mocked. ACDC dropped by as well, though much later on after hearing she had finally returned from one of his clan members.

He stood at the entrance of the chamber, eyeing over all the items that she’d amassed, wondering what it all was. Aja’s frustration was palpable in the air, an interesting tension that extended from the woman herself. Her shoulders were tight, motions quick and forceful, and her usual fidgeting was much more exaggerated.

“You’re lurking.” Her voice was sharper, harder than he remembered. In all honesty though, he was surprised that her response was to get this pent up, and not to have argued herself hoarse with the elders. “If you’re here to mock me, get it done with; I have things to do.”

“I missed you too, Aja.” ACDC was much too amused by how high she jumped before whipping around, surprised. The image of her earrings flying around to smack her in the face, impact unacknowledged, was a good one. He’d have to tell Kars about it later.

“AC--” She gasped and rushed across the room to drag him into a hug. She had to roll up to the balls of her feet to reach all the way around his neck. “ACDC, I missed you!”

She grinned at his laugh in response, and grabbed onto his cheeks, thumbs going over the purple lines across his face. “You grew up so handsome without me--”

“Thank you.”

“There’s no baby fat left at all, too!” She prodded at his cheeks. “What, did they run you ragged to get rid of the chubby cheeks?”

“I did not have chubby cheeks.” He frowned and poked her cheek in return. Aja laughed and pat his shoulders, the tension going out of her.

“You did, but that’s your story.” He rolled his eyes as she snuggled into him before looking up. “How were you? How are you? How’s Kars? Has he remembered to go outside while I was gone?”

ACDC snorted. “Kars is fine. I’ve been trying to catch up to him, actually.”

“Oh?”

“He’s decided to train between whatever book he’s reading at the time. Honestly, I think he just didn’t want to look weak in comparison while I was gaining mentally.” He looked back around the room. “Did you bring back the entire landmass in rock form? Where’s my pet lizard?”

Aja snorted and looked around.

“Well, I had to bring you and Kars back something. Sadly, the moon and the sun did not fit in my bag.” Aja grinned after his deep snort. “No lizards, sadly, they all ran away. Besides, I’m sure you two have invented some hobby or another to keep busy with, while I was off licking rocks.”

“Ha, you’d be surprised at how busy Kars can get when he wants to research something. I’ve been training.” ACDC moved a little bit away from her, and toyed with a few of the lumps of metal sitting on a slab of stone. “He’s onto something now, though.”

“Oh, new way of braiding his hair?” ACDC grinned at her tired joke; if they had an in joke, it was that. “Or did he manage to get the rock thing to work?”

“Sort of.” He came closer and dropped his voice, making her pause what she was fussing with in surprise. “He’s working on a way to conquer the sun.”

She blinked owlishly. “Has he finally managed to work out how to move into it?”

“I’m serious.” He frowned, but was unable to keep his excitement out of his voice entirely. It was hard to chide Aja when he knew she was simply buying time to think through what he said. “He’s making things, testing them. It’s made him stronger already-- and he’s getting closer to perfection each time. I honestly think he can do this.”

There was a beat of silence before she bounced to the balls of her feet and peered into his eyes.

“I want to know everything.”

“You’ll have to ask Kars, but Aja?” He smiled and clapped her on the shoulder hard enough to wobble her a bit. “It’s good to see you again.”

When Aja got around to going to Kars’ chambers--he refused to come to her place with ACDC relaying that he was much too busy to do so--she’d already been listening to ACDC who boasted about their grand plan in between excitedly sharing information about his training. It was Kars’ plan, actually, but he was so devoted to it that she couldn’t help but call it theirs. It was refreshing to be around him again, and she was sure reuniting with Kars would be just as refreshing after all this time.

She was mostly correct.

When she and ACDC came into his spacious cavern, she marveled at the stacks upon stacks of scrolls and the occasional bound tome he had splayed across the floor. Chips of stone and cracked remnants of whatever his project actually was lay between, or on the pages. The worktable where you would have expected this to be taking place was covered in sketches and detailed schematics of what looked to be a series of exaggerated faces. She realized as she moved closer in that they were schematics for some form of mask, though she couldn’t fathom what a facial covering would do for Kars, let alone why he’d be so feverishly working on it.

The man himself had not looked up when they entered, or when ACDC greeted him and told him she had come to see what he had been working on. He was seated in the exact center of this maelstrom of academia, legs crossed and toes pressed firmly down to his sandals in concentration. His hair had long since come out of the careful braid he wore it in, frazzled here and there as if he hadn’t tended to it in ages. In his hands, being shifted rapidly back and forth, was a half carved mask. It was, from her cursory glance, made from limestone-- not a terribly good specimen of the stone, not particularly sturdy. It was already dusting away at the edges as he tapped parts of the stone away.

“You know, last I checked, playing with rocks was my thing.”

“I am not,” Kars paused his ministrations and spared a tense glance in her direction. “Playing.”

“Alright,” Aja strode forward and dropped to the floor to sit on the edge of the paper ring. “Then what, oh wise and intelligent Kars, are you doing with a rock?”

The look of amusement was much sharper now, his face having had time to mature and sharpen. The effect, she felt, was moderately lessened by the sheer amount of stone dust on said face. She was not going to point it out, finding it much too adorable.

“I’m devising a way to conquer not only the sun, but the limits of our race.” His grin was wide for his personality, eyes glinting with confidence enough that she nodded along with it. “When I get this correct once and for all, we’ll never have to hide away again!”

“If anyone could do it--” The grin on her face spread to match his own as he looked pleased with himself. “It’d be you, but...”

His eyes narrowed just slightly, watching her inhale and readying himself to argue back when she spoke up again.

“You do seem to be crushing more than you’re creating, though.”

Kars’ eyes narrowed to just a slit before he let out a bitter lungful of air.

“I don’t go outside to lick the dirt, stone is not something I’m familiar with as some people.” He hated, bitterly, having to admit he wasn’t getting anywhere in terms of material; no matter how small the admission was. Nor was he soothed by the fact Aja looked more prepared to assist than to mock him, mouth already pulling together in thought. “These have all been practice, at any rate.”

“I could help-- I brought back more than enough stone for myself; not to mention I know where to get more if what we work on comes apart.” She rocked back and forth, holding onto her shins while she thought. “I could also show you how to wear the stone down with your fingers instead of trying to chisel. It’ll be much less likely to break, then, even if we have a bad chunk.”

“Are you implying I can’t control the strikes without your help?” His tone was flat and not amused. She waved a hand.

“No, I’m saying if we do this-- and I know you physically cannot stop something once you’ve started, and I want in on it.” She shot him a faux pout that got a snort from ACDC. Kars’ face remained unmoved as she continued. “We’ll need several masks, or people are going to have to wait in line for it. Which means that there would be an imbalance of power, which would mean it could be chaos.”

Kars thought a moment and nodded, seeing her point.

“When the others see the brilliance of this, when it’s complete-- everyone will want to break free of their limitations. Everyone will break free of the limitations of our race. We would have to plan out when and who will wear it first.” He rubbed a bit of dust off his chin and frowned at it before looking back up, a twinge of a smile finally pulling on his mouth. “But we will be the ones to bring it about. We will be the reason that our kind no longer fears the sun.”

From that moment on, when Aja wasn’t working with Kars, she was training with ACDC. Kars felt that they should all be at peak physical condition to ensure that the process took properly. The younger pillar man had a bit too much fun running his friend around the caverns, up and down a mountainside, and around the base of it each night. The work outs were fairly intense and he often had to steel himself so he wouldn’t be talked out of that night’s regimen.

Aja, for her part, felt as if she were being unfairly made to do crunches when she could be working on her plants. Or looking into the population loss ratios of the human groups their society fed from most often. How many animals could possibly be domesticated within living-caves to reduce impact on the surrounding area so they didn’t out hunt their home.

Kars assured her that food would be a concern of the past once the masks were finished, but she was unsure.

How could a people, even those beyond the limitations of their bodies, not require or at least desire food? Simply because Kars felt the need to eat was a limitation, didn’t mean that this process would eliminate it. Just as the need for some water, she felt, could not be eliminated-- regardless of refinement.

It was one of the few points of contention between them-- the strict demand that practical measures be assumed permanent and immutable in the face of Kars’ idealism. They would argue over the correct counter measures they should take in the event something went wrong in the application, or if there was a side effect they hadn’t considered-- and then they would spend a few months not speaking to one another while ACDC ran back and forth, trying very hard to make them stop ignoring one another. He disliked it just as much as either of them did, and they would eventually be convinced to work with one another again, usually through ACDC posing a question to one that they’d need to consult the other on to be entirely sure about, forcing them to either eat their pride or risk being incorrect about something.

Thousands of years passed in this fashion, feverishly working on the masks, sleeping for a few thousand years, waking up and working more. Perfecting the acupuncture locations, the spine sharpness, and then rest. Test the masks for months, rest again.

Aja insisted that they take their share of down time between working stages, insisting that it was no good to work so hard to see the sun that they all forgot about enjoying the nighttime.

Nights like those were spent sitting outside and debating whether the sun would be brighter than the moon or not, if the sun was painful to the things that lived in it and they’d built an immunity, and if they’d all be much too tired to enjoy the daytime considering many people spent the daytime meditating or working. Sometimes they would slip into their childhood patterns and go looking for flowers to work into each others’ hair.

One of the few times Kars would fully relax during this time, was while he sat cross-legged in a meadow, letting his friends gently work fingers through his hair. He was always more aware of the feeling of them sweeping his bangs around his horns, their fingers running along his scalp and poking through his hair to his back now and then after a long month of work. It was nice, too, to card his fingers through Aja’s hair and chide her for letting it get tangled and knotted while she focused on work over self care. Likewise, ACDC’s hair was always bouncy and the two of them worked for nearly a half hour to balance his flower decorations with the head wrap he insisted on covering his horn with. He’d let out pleased humming noises as the other two debated on the colors to use and the extent of the braids they wanted to do, and point out they could use all of them if they wanted. Kars and Aja immediately informed him that he was going to match whether he liked it or not, and he laughed hard enough to earn a scolding because he’d moved as they were placing the flowers. Unlike the other two, Aja had no real compulsions to cover the two dark horns over her temples and was usually the only one not carrying back one garment or another to avoid ruining the work the others did. There was almost always some light teasing about it from her family, but she professed it meant nothing beyond the fact they were comfortable with one another, and that she didn’t see the point in hiding how much they enjoyed each other’s company. More teasing generally followed.

During one of these work/sleep/work/occasionally argue/relax cycles-- this particular spat brought on more by Kars refusing to share a technical problem he’d run into, and Aja being offended that she wasn’t being trusted to help-- that talk started about someone having become pregnant. There hadn’t been a child in literal ages, and there were none at that moment-- Aja had actually actively been pondering if her people may be having fertility issues instead of simple disinterest in procreation.

The news of a child on the way pleased not only her, but the community. The general gossip of the day waned under the news and the pregnancy became the focus.

She sought out the mothers and endeavored to devote her free time to the child if the mothers allowed her. This was partially out of scientific interest, and partially out of the fact that it was entirely possible that Kars would finish his project before the child was in their thousandth year. If that were the case, there would be no reason not to look into the maturation process as it happened.

The two women and their other mates had gone back and forth about letting Aja-- the intellectual black sheep of her clan--observe the expectant mother. On one hand she was still known for absorbing everything, even non-living objects just for the experience, and she had disobeyed the elders. On the other hand, she was meticulous and careful, observant and very difficult to injure. Nothing, certainly, would get to the mother or the child if she were on call. For all of Aja’s eccentricities, too, she was also by that point one of the only experts in nutrition the clans had. The records and the elders could inform things, but Aja was the practical application that could do someone good.

It was toward the end of the pregnancy that she was allowed to take notes and measurements, but it was enough data for her. The mother did decline her suggestion to absorb stones and mineral samples to ensure durability, though. She took the offered plants and specific animals in the final months, that were absorbed willingly, and the mother felt less irritability than normal. Neither of them knew if that meant things were working or one of the plants simply had a soothing property.

The child was a plump and strong lunged baby boy, who the parents named Wamuu. He was a heavy child, a good omen, and Aja was overjoyed with how quickly he seemed to open his eyes and look around at everyone. Wamuu grew quickly over the following years, able to sit up and crawl much faster than anyone had seen a child do. As Aja took down his measurements and asked his parents about his well-being, she was becoming slowly included in family events. She was even invited to his one hundredth birthday, watching him try to walk to her. She scooped up the little boy and was very amused to see him begin to mouth on her jewelry-- the worked and smoothed stones sizzling lightly in contact with his gums.

His parents were only a little amused.

“He takes after you before he can even understand it’s a rock.” His mother laughed, taking him back. “Horrible influence.”

“Have to start early.” Aja grinned and gently ran a hand over his head. “He’s going to be big and strong-- already knows you need your vitamins!”

“Or, he’s a baby and doesn’t understand what is and isn’t food.”

“Killjoy.”

The gossip around the local caverns had started to drift from the new baby-- Aja felt Wamuu would be considered new for a few thousand years, or until another child happened-- to the brooding that Kars was doing.

She knew that he had been moping around while trying to figure out how to get over the newest hurdle he’d not deigned to confer with her on, moodily staring at the ceiling of his chambers and idly digging grooves in the floor as he thought. ACDC had been at a loss on how to snap him out of it, and even visiting Kars to chat idly with him about the baby didn’t bring him out of it. Still, it had made ACDC feel slightly better that he’d at least paid attention, if he didn’t respond. Even the lure of a night out did nothing for him, and he refused to leave until he was either starving or he finished this issue.

To his friends, this was simply what he did when he crawled too far into his own mind on something. He’d find the solution or bring it up to them when he’d had enough of himself, and it’d be fine.

This was perhaps why Aja was surprised to hear people gossiping about him. About how unsettling his behavior was, how his own mother was concerned about how this project of his was consuming him. She didn’t engage when she heard people doubting his sanity, wondering aloud if she had influenced his mannerisms to his detriment. It would make sense, said others, that he’d picked up her naive tangents-- wasting his time. They were sometimes rebuffed by a few members of her clan, who would in turn insist that she’d at least produced results while on her tangents, where Kars had done nothing concrete but brood.

ACDC was mentioned in pitying tones; how sad such a promising warrior fell in with them. How sad, he probably picked up their mannerisms-- who knows when he’ll try something ridiculous as absorbing stone or trying to take over the sun.

None of these whispers made sense, not with Aja’s knowledge of Kars’ plan-- his idealistic vision of a future where no one was afraid of the daytime, ACDC’s devotion to his well being and her dedication to his process, no matter their arguments. She shared these rumors with the two of them, upset that they would speak about three of them that way. Kars’ face darkened as he heard more and tapped his nails roughly against the floor.

“They don’t understand, they don’t want to.” He looked at the two of them, a dark fire building in his eyes. “But they will.”

ACDC nodded firmly in agreement.

“We know that,” Aja rocked back and forth against the wall she was leaning on, a deep frown on her face. “They don’t, but we do. We just need to get a prototype to work-- then they’ll see your vision.”

“I’m close, I just need to work out...” He frowned at the mock ups propped up on his work table. “I haven’t worked out how to make the spines trigger properly without them missing the mark. It should work, but I can’t figure out the mechanism.”

The only people in the world he would admit to not knowing how to do something to, were the two in this room. Honestly, it pained him less to admit it now than it had before, even if it wasn’t his favorite thing. He supposed it was the fact that Aja and ACDC were prone to supporting him, and while she would argue logic with him, he had to admit she had her points.

“We can work on it together.” She gave him a small smile of encouragement. “Until we figure it out, though, you should probably go outside before they assume you’ve melded with the cave itself.”

“That’s your hobby, Aja.” Kars shook his head and she chuckled a bit before going over to him and tugging lightly on his arm until he stood up. He did his best to appear like he had every intention of sitting back down, but otherwise went willingly.

“They’re going to be so shocked that you aren’t covered in mushrooms.” He shot ACDC a look while he fell in beside them, almost as if entreating him to witness this foolishness. He received a smile for his trouble. “The moonlight is going to blind you, been inside so long.”

“I’ve gone above ground in the last ten years.”

“See? It’s been too long.”

The last stretch of development was what took the longest; the spines elegantly sliding out of the mask when blood was applied, the mechanism for the activation having been Aja’s idea, while the placement of the spines came from ACDC’s knowledge of anatomy. Kars had pioneered it all, though, applying what his friends had given him and work-shopping through the gaps they encountered. Nothing was left out of their consideration, but the finish line still lay out of sight. If one held the mask incorrectly, it could miss and leave someone with head wounds, but no benefits. If one applied animal blood and not human blood, the spines would only extend far enough to hold itself on the wearer.

Kars had made it functional to work in the very stable conditions of his chambers, with him holding it still as Aja placed blood on the mask, ACDC watching the spine placement. The spines shot out as planned, pierced his skin as planned, and while there were no outward changes once it released his face, Kars stumbled. The other two placed hands on his shoulders to steady him as he pulled the mask off, the spines scraping along his scalp before the mechanism to retract triggered. His eyes were wide and sweat had started to bead on his forehead.

“Well,” Aja peered at the small wounds on his head with measured worry. It was acupuncture, puncturing was part of this, she knew that. While she was a scientist, and she was ostensibly trying to perfect this process with them, she was still watching her oldest friend put holes in his head on purpose. “How do you feel?”

“Pain.” Kars grunted, righting himself under his own power, and brought his hands up to rub at his face. “I don’t feel different, past the injury. It didn’t get through my skull.”

He glared down at his hands, face souring as his wounds healed.

“Why didn’t it work?”

“Maybe there’s a delay in effect we didn’t anticipate. The spines only going in so far might still have an effect.” Aja gently ran her hand along his arm to sooth him. His glower didn’t falter. “Let’s give it a day before we try to draw conclusions.”

“Yeah, with our luck we’ll mark it down as a failure and then in twelve hours you’ll be immune.” ACDC was becoming more of a pessimist as time wore on, but it served to ground the other two. He gave Kars a gentle pat on the shoulder as he made sure the other man healed properly. “We’ll see.”

Kars was less enthused about the idea of another delay. They were so close, he could feel it-- another set back almost angered him more than his own mother informing him he was wasting his time. She had visited them more often lately, attempting to shoo him out of his chambers with her authority. She’d tried to command him to give up his ‘foolish’ project and to do something worth while. He knew she didn’t approve-- of his friends, of his project, of his vision. Her words echoed in his mind, stoking his anger, as he moved away from his spot to look over schematics one more time. Kars glanced between the mask and the piles of paper.

“There must be something wrong-- it should be instant, a rush of power that tells you that you are invincible!” He pushed papers aside and plunked the mask down on one of the scrolls. “A rise in body temperature, raised heart rate, something to indicate this happened. Even without piercing the skull...”

“We can run through the possibilities after you rest.” Aja knew this tension that had started emanating from the growing knot in his shoulders. She placed her hand between his shoulder blades and pressed gently. Some of the tension left him, but it was still heavy in the room. “We can go outside and get some air if you want, but you need to take it easy.”

“We have too much to do--”

“And your stressing out will skew the data we record. We need you at baseline, and honestly;” She and ACDC shared a look before staring at him with a resolve he couldn’t reasonably ignore. “You need you to be at baseline. Even if this works out to just be a delayed reaction, the last thing you need is to be so wound up you make yourself too sick to enjoy the benefits.”

Kars declined going outside with them that night, ostensibly to opt for laying on the floor and glaring holes into the ceiling while he self-monitored. His body was full of sensation, his skin hot on his face, and his veins felt as if they were pulsing in want. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, what his body needed, but he tucked it away for later. His muscles thrummed uncomfortably against the stone, cramping painfully here and there, while he could swear the feeling in his veins worsened. It held constant after a few hours, his temperature returning to normal, the sweat stopping, and his muscles relaxing. The only thing that remained was the ache in his veins, but he wasn’t sure if it was a result or a side effect.

The next night he was more willing to venture above ground, though he was till brooding on the lack of change. He’d recorded how long it took for his wounds to fully heal, how long it took for his sweating spell to pass, and noted down some latent pain in his limbs that had returned once he’d started moving about.

He brought this up to the others while they made their way into the woods, the night air pleasant after being underground for so long. There was something different about being out with them then, tugging at his attention and making it hard to focus.

“Maybe you’re going to have another growth spurt.” Aja mused, hopping up into a tree and grabbing onto the branches to hang there a while. “If you catch up to ACDC at the ripe old age of ninety thousand, I will be deeply impressed.”

She had expected a quip in response, perhaps a jab about her own height, but received neither. Looking down, she noticed ACDC looking at Kars in concern. Kars, for his part, was staring blankly into the woods as he worked out what the feeling was.

“Kars?”

“I’m starving.” His voice was rough, like he hadn’t seen water in decades, and his nose twitched. He could smell prey in the distance, enticing and suddenly much more tempting than previous. “I ate last week, but it feels like I haven’t eaten in years.”

The other two exchanged looks, Aja’s face much more concerned than ACDC’s. She dropped down to follow as they started off into the trees, Kars intently tracking whatever he’d decided to go after. They walked for hours before finding a human settlement, their people asleep and animals likewise.

He went forward with not a word and ripped through the side of one of the shelters, the inhabitants waking with a start. Aja watched with dismay as ACDC followed suit, but was rebuffed as Kars absorbed dozens of the humans before being sated.

Kars eventually rested himself on a tree stump, slowly absorbing the blood he’d spilled onto himself, and watching the few survivors run screaming into the trees. He ran his tongue over his lips, focusing on how his body seemed to be at rest now-- his veins did not ache and his muscles had relaxed.

“Kars?” Aja looked him over with concern, forgoing the chase of the survivors in favor of looking over her friend. “Are you alright?”

“I think,” He stared intently at his hands, and then his arms, before looking up at the other two. A smile spread over his face, eyes bright and excited. It was an expression he hadn’t worn in ages. “I understand what happened to me.”

#I DID THE THING #jjba #Mok Fic #jojo's bizarre adventure #Miss Mockery au #im dying squirtlr

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theseadagiodays · 4 years ago

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June 14, 2020

Stuck Together

Dresses by Gabrielle C - lemons; Evelyn K - tux; Callan R - Black Lives Matter

For the past three months, I have so appreciated sharpening my lens towards the creative gestures that this time has inspired. These musings began with a hunch that artists would play a significant leadership role in the resiliency that such crises require. While confirmed, my thesis has expanded to recognize that ALL humans are fundamentally wired to be resilient. And because innovation is a key ingredient of resiliency, people from all walks of life (professional artist or otherwise) have been seeking creative expression to tether them through these uncertain times.

For example, take these insanely fanciful prom dresses that teenagers around the US have designed in just 48 hours, using 40 rolls of duck tape and no other materials. I can only imagine to what extent feelings of uncertainty have been exacerbated for these high school seniors, already poised for one of the biggest leaps of their life. With the possibility of on-campus fall enrollment at new institutions threatened, and stripped of important rituals like graduation ceremonies and grad dances, these youth have had to contend with an abundance of shattered dreams. So, it was unexpectedly surprising to see the hope, compassion and beauty in the creations that resulted from this year’s Stuck at Prom Duck Tape Challenge. Browsing the 100’s of jaw-dropping entries on the contest’s website (https://www.duckbrand.com/stuck-at-prom/2020-gallery), there was not a single Covid Sucks, self-pitying design in the bunch. Instead, you can find tributes to essential workers and Black Lives Matter, mottos of solidarity, and an artful nod to “making lemonade.” Knowing that our future is in the hands of these thoughtful young people is perhaps the most encouraged I’ve felt during this entire pandemic.

Dress by Peyton M - frontline workers

June 15, 2020

Covid Commissions

Various WPA Virtual Commissions - see link below

Physical distancing and other economic challenges, resulting from the coronavirus, have taken a huge toll on artists’ livelihood. Currently, many existing arts grants have been either cut or postponed, in order for governments to reallocate funding towards critical services like health care, transportation and housing. And while I believe that the arts are as critical as breathing, full-well contributing to our physiological, psychological and self-actualizing needs, they still fall pretty far down most people’s interpretation of Maslow’s hierarchy.

Thankfully, there have been numerous emergency relief funds available to pick up the financial slack for artists. So, these have provided much needed temporary help to cover living expenses. But they haven’t necessarily supported the creation of new work. Fortunately though, some institutions have recognized the essentiality of the arts by putting them front and centre of their funding priorities. One such organization is the Guggenheim, whose board and donors contributed $150,000 to their Works & Process Virtual Commissioning fund which supported performing artists from a variety of mediums to create up to 5-minute video pieces from home. Like Cooped, a project I referenced on June 4th, all of the resulting works can be viewed here:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJ08rQmWB63RFC3avQF-nDsneUXLrUd4X

As I mentioned earlier, we dabbled in a little commissioning ourselves, during quarantine. And here is the promised finished product by Natalie Warkentin (@morningmusings), the very talented artist of Bloom: A beautiful process of becoming. Her playful, vibrant piece has made a world of difference to our daily joy, with the inordinant amount of time that we usual out-and-abouters have been spending at home! And we were also thrilled to learn that it has, indirectly, already led to a second commission for her.

June 16, 2020

Piano Play

In surveying my peers, I’ve noticed that this has been a time for reconnecting with long-lost friends. As some of these old relationships have resurfaced for me, one of my favorite “icebreakers” has been to ask what new pursuits they’ve enjoyed during this period. For many, it’s been sourdough starters; others gardening; and some, learning French. But I’ve also found that many adults are taking up instruments, which makes me extremely happy. I can’t tell you how many times, throughout my career, after mentioning to a stranger, on a plane or elsewhere, that I was a flutist, they replied “Oh, I wish I played an instrument,” ... almost as if they were already dead. My habitual response is always to encourage adult music-making, and it’s one of the reasons that the majority of our non-profits’ arts programs target adult populations. While I fully support early childhood musical and artistic development, I don’t think these opportunities are nearly as lacking as those for “big kids”. One of my friends, in an effort to brush up on her Grade 4 childhood piano skills, recently asked if I could recommend some playable, accessible pieces in a variety of genres (from film scores to pop to classical). Since keyboard or piano seems to be the most common new instrument for people to learn later in life (with perhaps only ukulele as a close second), I thought it would be fun to post the list that I shared with her. Each of the scores, below, is available online, for free or purchasable download, and generally requires the player to use only one finger, in either hand, at the same time. For a final extra tip: Musescore.com has a 30-day free trial, during which you can download to your heart’s delight!

Regina Spektor The Call (from Chronicles of Narnia)

Sufjan Stevens Mystery of Love (from Call Me By Your Name)

Erik Satie Gymnopedie #1-3, & Le Tango Perpetual

Arvo Part Fur Alina

Olafur Arnalds Tomorrow’s Song

Thomas Neumann Theme from American Beauty

Yann Tiersen Valse d’Amelie

Icelandic pianist, singer/songwriter, Olafur Arnalds

June 17, 2020

Cause and Effect

I love the music of language. Perhaps it’s why my transition from flutist to writer has felt so natural. I rarely remember the lyrics to songs, instead hearing the syllables as a collection of phonetic melodies. I also experience sounds somewhat synaesthetically (synaesthesia being the neurological condition where certain senses, which are not normally connected, join or merge together. Like certain alphabetic letters being associated with certain tastes, or particular smells being connected to sounds). For me, musical sonorities have always been strongly linked to specific colors or shapes. And the geometry of certain words have very distinct and often pleasurable textures when they bounce around my mouth. Perhaps my favorite example of this is the Buddhist word for the “interconnectedness of all things”: Pratītyasamutpāda. More clearly defined, this term refers to dependent origination, or dependent arising, a Buddhist philosophy which states that all phenomena arise in dependence upon other phenomena. Simply put, it’s the law of cause and effect. The far-reaching global butterfly effect of Covid has made all of us keenly aware of this law. Like never before, we are now considering the consequences of our actions in a myriad of ways: like whether or not to touch a pedestrian crossing button with our hands, scratch our nose when it itches, or hug an aging parent. So, while the threat of this virus has had huge negative repercussions for many people’s physical and mental health, I can not deny that there is also a positive way in which it has reminded us of our interconnectedness. Of course, it’s a horrific shame that it took a deadly pandemic to wake us up to they symbiotic nature of all things. And, for my generation and those younger than me, (particularly in North America and other cultures who have not experienced war or famine or a health epidemic, first-hand, for more than half a century), it may only be global warming that has demanded we truly consider how our behavior impacts the people and environment around us. However, even the impact of that seems too large and slow for most to fully fathom. It’s why we still drive like fiends, strangle turtles with our plastics, and fly to Hawaii for weekend getaways (and, of this sin, I shamefully confess I’m guilty too!).

So, we clearly need all of the reminders we can get, which makes this recent contest I learned about all the more fitting. There is perhaps no one who has more artfully or playfully illustrated the nature of phenomenological cause and effect than Rube Goldberg. Maybe you have seen his machines that combine cuckoo clocks, toy rockets, ping pong balls and string in elaborate chains of events that result in a single action. The band OK Go is famous for music videos crafted around such devices. And here, you can check out an absolutely brilliant one of theirs, with a message that we all need to hear right now, This Too Shall Pass: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qybUFnY7Y8w

Everyday folks have also been trying their hand at making such contraptions, for the sole honor of being named winner of the recent Rube Goldberg Soap Challenge. And you’ll be amazed at what this Toronto family devised to earn the crown: https://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/as-it-happens-tuesday-edition-1.5604697/toronto-family-thrilled-and-a-little-bit-surprised-to-win-rube-goldberg-challenge-1.5604698

June 18, 2020

Sensibility

My Uncle Len, a playwright and educator who has engaged in community arts throughout his career, has been a constant muse for me. But more than professional expertise, it has been his sensibilities that have served as my true inspiration. Len defines sensibility as “how we see, what we focus on, affirm and move towards in life.” He is so convinced it is the subject most necessary to study, at this time, that he has written a book about it - his life manifesto, if you will.

Len is simply one of my favorite people on earth. It’s hard not to adore a guy who decorates his exquisite garden with found objects, runs each of his theatre pieces as benefits for various charities, and tries paddleboarding for the first time at 85. This is right in keeping with the sensibilities he holds to be most critical in life, “beauty, fairness, and playfulness.” And while he’s worked on this piece for years, its message could not be more well-timed. Because, to use his words, imagine how effectively we could deal with pandemics, police brutality, and global warming, “if only everyone was rooting for everyone.”

Len’s Einstein likeness is not lost on anyone. And he has made him (and his physicist pal, Niels Bohr) the subject of many of his theatre pieces, not because of their scientific prowess but because they are prime models of “beauty, fairness, and playfulness” themselves.

Like Len’s inspirations, Einstein and Niels Bohr, he possesses the rare ability to find unified principles in seemingly disparate things. In Sensibility, a child’s wonder for a butterfly is illustrated to be as important an ingredient for the welfare of humanity as the thoughtfulness these giants’ exercised, advising on the development of the atomic bomb. Through Len’s unique lens, the reader understands fairness from the perspective of a fifth grader dealing with bullying to a physicist harboring Jews in World War II. We see the critical need for playfulness in everything from driving a junk truck to making a theatre piece. And now, just as the specter of a dangerous virus is re-awakening our sensibilities to affect social change with unprecedented speed, this book is a perfect tale for the times. It concludes with the prescient and hopeful story of 1,500 activists, linked hand-in-hand at the Encirclement of Rocky Flats, while they protest a nuclear plant in 1983, ultimately resulting in its shut down. This exquisite, slender volume is packed with instructions on how to live a compassionate and fertile life. And the beautiful equation it proposes is: Essential life skills = Mastering a Childlike Quality squared (E=mc2).

Just released on Amazon, it is now available here:

https://www.amazon.com/Sensibility-Children-Albert-Einstein-Niels/dp/B088B59P9Z/ref=sr_1_6?dchild=1&keywords=sensibility&qid=1591823421&s=books&sr=1-6

June 19, 2020

Comfort with Impermanence

Historically, humans have gone to preposterous lengths to deny and defy their impermanence. From Egyptian mummies, to cryogenic freezing, to time capsules left for future or alien populations to learn of our legacy. One such preservationist effort was the Voyager Golden Record - a 12-inch gold-plated copper disk curated by Carl Sagan, and sent to space with the 1979 launch, to portray the diversity of life and culture on Earth to whomever might find it. In addition to photos of athletes, mathematical formulas, and mothers with child, are recordings of birdsong, speech in 50+ languages, Bach, Chuck Berry, Indigenous songs and Indian ragas. To judge, for yourself, the accuracy of this audio/visual snapshot of human worth, you can listen to the full playlist here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4D51474AB7BE5595

Despite these attempts to ameliorate our fears about our own mortality, our anxiety persists. And now, in these particularly uncertain times, with viral stats, regulations and restrictions changing on a daily basis, more than ever, we need tools to help us become more comfortable with impermanence.

For me, mindfulness meditation is the most expedient way to come to terms with the fundamental truth that all states of being are fleeting and everything is in constant flux. As we become the Watcher rather than the Doer, we observe that our thoughts and feelings are as fleeting as the phenomena around us. And simply recognizing and accepting this can actually bring great comfort. Poet Mary Oliver understood this well, as she describes evocatively in her poem, In Blackwater Woods.

Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment, the long tapers of cattails are bursting and floating away over the blue shoulders of the ponds, and every pond, no matter what its name is, is nameless now. Every year everything I have ever learned in my lifetime leads back to this: the fires and the black river of loss whose other side is salvation, whose meaning none of us will ever know. To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.

And so, too, I think it is time to let this blog go. At least for now. It feels, in its own way, like a time capsule of a very potent moment in our lives. And, as that, this infintissimal drop in the bucket of human thought feels complete. So, while it can seem frightening to be reminded of the speck in the universe that human history truly is, I actually take great solace from understanding our smallness. On this note, I will return to the same text that consoled me early in lock down. I also shared this with my dear Uncle Len, whose 87th birthday just happens to be today. As all people his age, his life has been particularly disrupted by this virus. But as someone who appreciates physics from the persective of the beautiful dance we all do with each other and the cosmos, he received these words with particular gratitude. It is a passage from Maria Popova’s March 18th Brainspickings newsletter, published just one day after the world shut down:

“Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem. Elsewhere in the universe, a star manyfold the mass of our third-rate sun is living out its final moments in a wild spin before collapsing into a black hole, its exhale bending spacetime itself into a well of nothingness that can swallow every atom that ever touched us and every datum we ever produced, every poem and statue and symphony we’ve ever known - an entropic spectacle insentient to questions of blame and mercy - devoid of why...The atoms that huddled for a cosmic blink around the shadow of self will return to the seas that made us. What will survive of us are shoreless seeds and stardust.”

This final entry is my 64th, a number that has been my favorite since I was a small girl, for its symmetric beauty (8 squared, 4 to the 3rd, 2 to the 5th). Interestingly, this powerful number is also frequently referenced in spiritual texts and throughout pop culture (the number of generations from Adam to Jesus; the number of “tantras” in Hinduism, the number of squares on a chess board, the number of crayons in the popular Crayola pack, and the number of Hexagons in the I-Ching). The meaning of Hexagon 64 is “unfinished business.” Therefore, the story, of course, will go on. Whatever windswept seedling will take root next, however, I do not yet know...

64th Hexagon combination in the I-Ching

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crimsonrevolt · 7 years ago

Photo

Congratulations Hope you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Molly Weasley!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

This was such a tough decision for us but your interpretation of Molly won us over! It was clear from the very first part of your application just how much you love her as a character and you gave us such a good look at your vision for her and really brought her to life. Your writing sample also gave us a clear idea of who Molly is and explored so many sides of her as well as giving us a strong idea of her role within the Order and relationships to others around her. We are very excited to have you back and cannot wait to see what journey you choose to take Molly on! *your FC change to Rose Leslie has been accepted!

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Hello, hello! My name is Hope, I prefer she/her pronouns, and I live in the EST time zone!

ACTIVITY

WELL, I’m not in a show for a while, and all in all my class load is light. I believe I’ll be reliably within a 6-7, and I’m excited and thrilled at the prospect of coming back, better than ever!

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Former player, but before that I learned about this RP from a current member!

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I’ve always been hard working and ambitious, with a drive to prove myself to people who don’t believe that I can achieve everything I want for my future. Therefore, I’ve always felt like Hermione Granger is the character I’ve related to the most.

ANYTHING ELSE?

That’s all from me, thanks darlings!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Molly Alexandra Weasley (née Prewett)

Alexandra is an ancient name, which became popularized in Europe after the thirteenth Century. It means Defender of Man, a meaning well suited to describe Molly herself.

FACE CLAIM

I prefer Rose Leslie, but Sarah Drew is a lovely alternative. Whichever you prefer!

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

I’ve adored Molly as a character since the first time I read the Harry Potter series, and since her first introduction. Molly Weasley saw a boy, alone and confused at King’s Cross Station, helped him find the platform (even though she had her hands full with five children of her own), and made sure he got on the train safely. Molly Weasley couldn’t bear the thought of that little boy waking up on Christmas morning without any presents, and who, despite having her strained time and resources, knit him a jumper like her children, to make him a part of her family. Molly Weasley is the ultimate mother figure, and a guiding hand without whom Harry could not have functioned. In a story with so many orphans, and casualties of war, and so much loss and pain, Molly and Arthur’s beautiful, supportive family, and their unbreakable love for one another, is an extremely inspirational beacon of light in the community.

Molly’s motherly instincts are a driving force within her, and her archetype of The Mother is apparent in all parts of her life. Even Molly’s exceptional aptitude for healing spells show her big heart, and how much of her spirit is dedicated to taking care of others. I see Molly as an old soul, and a romantic. She reads books about true love conquering all, and strong, wise women who, despite incredible odds, overcome their circumstances to build happy lives for themselves and those they love. Molly Weasley is the type of woman who would let a friend stay at her house indefinitely, if they ever needed to get away. Molly Weasley is the type of girl who would see her classmate who came to school without a lunch, and would bring extra, so they could be fed while maintaining their dignity. While Molly is gentle and kind, she is indestructible, and a force of nature to be reckoned with when she’s been angered. Molly would drag herself over broken glass by her fingernails for her family, and is fiercely protective of anyone she takes under her wing. I see Molly as a Mother figure within the Order, looking at these young people and doing her utmost to protect them, to shield what remains of their childhoods. She is especially protective of her younger siblings, Fabian, Gideon, and Alice, whom she has spent a lifetime caring for.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

MOLLY AND ARTHUR WEASLEY ARE MY DARLINGS. I love them so much. In my opinion, Arthur has been Molly’s lifelong love, since they were housemates in school. Their marriage is an example of true love, and hard work, and compassion. Which is not to say there is no conflict, which can be elaborated on within threads!

Molly identifies as female, and it is my belief that she has far too much love in her heart for gender determine her love for someone. She uses She/Her pronouns.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

-AN AESTHETIC

(extended associations!)

~ golden sunlight ~ soft music ~ wooden record players ~ cream colored sweaters ~ steam rising from a hot cup of tea ~ lazy good morning kisses ~ wool on bare skin ~ red autumn trees ~ the crunch of leaves underfoot ~ vanilla ~ hugs around the neck ~ hour long conversations ~ earthenware bowls ~ hearty breakfasts ~ fresh cookies ~ spending all day cuddling ~ worn out armchairs ~

-A PLAYLIST (mini time!)

Artholly:

Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur

Dearest by Buddy Holly

Happy Together by The Turtles

Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran

No One Else sung by Denee Benton from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

Molly:

Phenomenal Woman by Olivia Newton-John

-EXPAND ON THE TRAITS

Assertive: (+) Molly is a woman with a good head on her shoulders, and a strong moral compass. As such, when someone disagrees with her, she is able to deliver a competent, logical reasoning for her opinions. Molly is especially firm when her loved ones are involved. Molly will always stand for her family’s best interests, and will always stand up for herself and others when she believes there are injustices being committed.

Passionate: (+) When Molly gives her heart to something, whether it be an occupation, a goal, or a lover, Molly gives it all. She has never been one to let circumstance or hardships keep her from what she wants, and what she imagines for herself. For Molly, if you aren’t being passionate about something, you don’t care about it enough. So, she puts her soul into the things she cares about, like her relationships. She is tenacious, and will do anything for those she loves.

Temperamental: (-) However, Molly’s assertiveness and passion can sometimes result in her becoming very angry when she is hurt, or betrayed. Molly is a very stubborn woman, and when she encounters something that stands in the way of what she wants, or what is in the best interest of her family, she will blow up at it. In relationships, Molly’s temper is always in the best interest of the people she loves. For example, if she believes that someone she loves is doing something dangerous, something she knows they shouldn’t be doing, she will tell them so, and become very angry if they refuse to change. She can be easily provoked into an argument, but she’s never malicious or in search of conflict.

Overprotective: (-) While her motherly instincts are an asset in many ways, it can be one of Molly’s more annoying attributes, especially to her little sister Alice and some of the younger members of the Order. While they are technically adults, and fellow soldiers in this war, she can be sharp with them when she believes they’re being careless, or putting themselves in danger. She’s significantly protective of Alice, whom she has watched grow up from her childhood, and for whom she feels responsible. She can be smothering, trying to prevent someone from doing something because she believes it’s too dangerous for them.

-A FEW HEADCANONS

Boggart: Molly’s boggart is her siblings’ mangled corpses, with Arthur later included. She cannot stand the idea of seeing them dead, and even the thought is enough to bring Molly’s stomach into her mouth and set her in a cold sweat.

Patronus: Molly’s patronus is, appropriately, a bear. Bears are extremely protective of their cubs, and are representative of the overwhelming strength that lies within her.

Wand: Molly’s wand is a flexible 10-inch willow wood wand, with a unicorn hair core. Willow is a tree known for withstanding the toughest storms, due to its ability to bend and sway in wicked winds; it is best suited for those with great aptitude for healing.

-A FEW POTENTIAL PLOT POINTS

❧ Arthur being injured during a mission, or during a duel against a Death Eater. Plots include her helping nurse Arthur to health, psychological aftermath of the idea of Arthur dying, and being left alone (as a young mother with young children, if they have their kids already), and the resulting paranoia and fear. How she overcomes it, or doesn’t.

❧Molly’s general involvement with the Order, and any missions/jobs she does to help them.

❧Molly meeting/having a conflict with a member of Aversio, because while they, too, wish to defeat Voldemort, she stands completely opposed to their methods.

❧Molly being captured and tortured by death eaters, her panic about not being able to protect her family and her fear that they’ll do something rash to save her

❧MOLLY GETTING PREGNANT (AGAIN) DURING THE WAR. MOLLY AND HER BABIES. MOLLY WEASLEY DEVELOPING SEPARATION ANXIETY BECAUSE EVERY TIME ARTHUR LEAVES OR SHE HAS TO LEAVE THE CHILDREN FOR A MOMENT SHE’S STRICKEN WITH FEAR AND GUILT.

❧Molly dealing with trying to raise young children and give them a normal life despite the threat of death and destruction all around them.

(Really anything, I’m open to any plots that can be thrown at me.)

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

“Oh! That’s a good one. I’d have to say… I’d like to create a way to cast several healing spells at once, just in case of an emergency. I’d hate to ever need to use it, but there have been times, you know–… Where things go awry. But if the situation arose, I think it could be invaluable.

Barring that, a potion to safely help the twins finish teething would be life-changing.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“Oh, well, Arthur of course. I honestly can’t imagine taking anyone else with me! And for an object, I’d say either an invisibility cloak, or what Arthur says the Muggles call a “chainsaw”, in the event we need to get out quickly.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“Those where I know the right thing to do, but it may put me or Arthur at risk. I have obligations to the Order—this is a war after all. But I have my children to think about. When I take dangerous missions, I feel immense guilt. When I shy from them, however, I still feel guilt. It’s a double-edged sword.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

“That I failed to do enough to fight while those around me suffered. Or that I wasn’t good enough as a parent. If I ever gave my children a reason to say that about me, I couldn’t live with it.”

WRITING SAMPLE

Molly had learned to live her life with little boxes. Her cupboards and closets were stuffed to the brim with scratched wicker baskets, sturdy heirloom chests made of oak, old garment boxes with mismatched lids, all in an attempt to create the storage space necessary to support her growing family of seven. When there were so many of them in one house, and so much shared property, it was important to sort the few independent belongings the children had into labeled containers. Bill, a stern 8 and ½, and Charlie, an enthusiastic six year old, had had enough territory disputes to drive her mad; Charlie followed his big brother around like a puppy, and so often found himself with Bill’s things in hand, in an attempt to emulate his big brother. Bill, who’d had enough of his toys being smashed by the little one’s indelicate fingers, begged Molly to keep his things away from the toddler. For a long time, she insisted that he try to share, that he just teach Charlie to play nicely with his belongings. After Percy was born, however, Molly found it necessary to start dividing up her children’s things, which evolved into her obsession with keeping things in little boxes.

Boxes were how she kept herself sane. Compartmentalizing. She learned to keep parts of herself bottled up, far away from her children. When she was with the children, when it was family time, she belonged entirely to them. But when it came to matters of the Order, she kept those hidden, and never allowed the two to meet. Even the rooms in her house shared her divided mind. The dining room, for instance, which was a sacred place for her family, was a servant of two masters. By day, it was where she fed and nurtured her children; where Arthur read crisp, new printings of The Daily Prophet, beckoning her over if there was a story he thought she may like; where her and Arthur shed happy tears as their baby twins, now hardly a year old, babbled their first words; where her little Percy, who had learned to walk but much preferred to be carried, would perch happily on her hip while she made dinner for the family; the dining room was where her and Arthur would steal a tender moment alone after the children were abed, dancing slowly to soft music floating from the Muggle gramophone he’d enchanted and set on their windowsill.

By night, however, her dining room was transformed. It would frequently become a war-room for the Order of the Phoenix and its secret soldiers. Plans were made, defenses measured, good witches and wizards brought back, in agony, after violent run-ins with Death Eaters, and she would immediately set to healing their wounds. Blood had been shed in her family’s sacred space, blood which she would later diligently clean in order to keep her children from worrying anything was wrong. When the Order made camp in her home, she tried to separate her tender memories and moments with her family from the fear and panic that had often been felt inside her home. It was the only way she could keep her children safe; but she didn’t know how much longer she could. More and more frequently, now, Bill would creep downstairs, hearing a bump in the night, and she would narrowly scoop him up in her arms before he heard something that would surely make sleep impossible for him. More and more, he would ask her about the strange friends mummy and dad were having over after they were all asleep, and he was less and less satisfied by her flimsy explanations. It was not his fault: it’s natural for children to be curious. It was hers. She had brought this into her children’s lives. But she would keep it boxed up, and away from them, as long as she could. She just didn’t know how much longer that would be.

#Accepted App

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