#Preston Sands

[paulapuddephatt]

Blue Morning by Paula Puddephatt Via Flickr: The view from our window at Preston Sands Hotel in Preston Sands, Paignton, Devon - 28/11/07

[jadeseadragon]

Preston Singletary @prestonsingletaryglass

Connecting the Cosmos, blown and sand carved glass, 26.5" × 4.5" × 12" 📷 Russell Johnson

"Plan your visit to see the 'Preston Singletary: Tlingit Modernism' exhibit opening at the @douglasreynoldsgallery in Vancouver. BC. on October 21st, and on view until November 18th, 2023."

"Get a sneak peek and view the exhibition catalog."

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

thinking more thoughts!!

Kiley time-

I uh- kind of poured all my chaotic energy into her, and separated her from the rest of the npc cast? Otherwise the dialogue would get totally fucked, and my ‘I need to hit this story with a drama nuke’ desire would cause trouble.

So she’s uhhh off on her adventure of a different genre. (But stuff she does Will affect things... dun dun dunnnn) but dude Wow she would be so irritated by Jun. Good thing we’re going to Sanctuary to leave them and take Preston.... OR THAT IS WHAT I WOULD SAY if she didn’t want to be anywhere near the vault!! We’re going somewhere else, babeyyyyy! Maybe talking with him and Murphy would bring some understanding (is what I would say if I were doing big character development in the beginning but we’re not!!) Shoving my desire for conflict into this.

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Super Fly 1972

[esmeralda-juniper]

sandstorms???!!!

[cattordi]

3. the new neighbor 🥥

a/n 𓇼 i’m writing these chapters a lot faster than expected 😫 but the obx drama has ben fed and obsessed w rafe so enjoy. also my links aren’t working therefore i cant update my masterlist

summary 𓇼 after returning to the obx, you rent the cameron’s guest house; forcing you into close proximity with your ex boyfriend— rafe.

pairings 𓇼 pogue!reader x exbf!rafecameron

warnings 𓇼 angst, annoying guys, ward, weed

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹

the three word sentence rafe says isn’t what you expected to hear. those words aren’t anything you’ve heard him say.

at least to you.

you close the door slowly, tears welling in your eyes. as you turn away, a voice startles you.

“he doesn’t mean it.” you turn to see ward, rafe’s dad. he has a slight amused look on his face.

“yeah.. sure.” you say as you begin down the stairs.

your relationship with ward was never good. he never liked you due to your background, and he only dealt with you because of rafe. though his relationship wasn’t good with rafe either.

“he still loves you.” he begins, “to much in my opinion, but” he shrugs, “if you’re what my son wants.”

huffing you ask, “did you just let me stay here so you could talk down on me?”

ward shrugs and walks past you, going down the stairs, “rafe could do better. i’m sure you know that, so i want you to see him do better…. be with someone better actually.”

you’re speechless as he continues down the stairs and into his study.

𓇼

the next morning rafe wakes up, hungover. his head is thumping as his blinds reveal the bright sun outside, but his mind goes directly to you.

specifically what he said to you.

quickly, he gets out of bed, almost throwing up in the process from all the alcohol.

rafe rushes downstairs before asking, “where’s y/n?” wheezie and rose shrug before sarah says, “oh, she went into town early this morning. why?”

“nothing.” he curses, “where’s dad?”

they all shrug, which pisses rafe off, “thanks for the fucking help.” he says before slamming the back door closed and going outside.

outburst from rafe weren’t unusual or out of the blue, but this one just didn’t make sense. he’d made it known to everyone in kildare that he was completely over you, and wanted to be as far away from you as humanly possible.

but gets upset when you’re not around.

angrily, rafe marches over to the dock, pulling a container out from under a patch of sand. opening it reveals five already rolled joints and a lighter.

𓇼

“i don’t think he could ever hate you.” kie says before throwing back a shot. you and kie are at a bar in figure 8, after she begged you to come out and get a taste of the men you’d “never noticed” before because you were all “up on rafe”.

“yeah he could,” you begin,” and also that kinda contradicts why we’re here.”

“well i’ve given up since you won’t talk to anyone. i suggested wyatt,” kie starts and points to a tall, blonde sitting at the bar. he’s covered in tats, and has long hair.

“and landon,” she continues and points to another tall man. he’s brown-skinned and has waves but he’s talking to another girl.

“and even preston.” she finishes and you look over to see preston. he’s on the shorter side, leaning towards 5’10 unlike the last two who were well over 6’2. he has dark brown hair which is buzzed. you had to admit he was pretty hot.

“fine” you give in, “i’ll talk to…..preston.”

kie smiles, “okay okay. i’ll sit here. you go flirt, and then come back and tell me everything.”

“okay” you mummer and walk towards him. you’re wearing jean shorts and corset top, which shows off a lot of cleavage.

he’s looking down at his phone when you walk up to him, his friends are around him drinking beers, laughing, and making unattractive faces at the poor girls walking by.

“hey!” you say as nicely as humanly possible, “i’m y/n. i saw you from across the bar and i just wanted to see if i could get your number or something. if not that’s fi-“

“sure, why not?” preston says and holds his hand out for your phone. suprised, you hand him your phone.

he types his number in quickly, “so y/n, i haven’t seen you in figure 8 before. are you a pogue or did you just move here?”

“i’m from here actually. i moved a few years ago and just came back.”

“hm.. why?”

“why’d i move or why’d i come back?”

“why to both.”

“i moved because i needed to get away from anything, or in my case anyone, who kept me from moving forward. and i came back becau-“

“who was it?”

“you don’t know him” this was a lie. everyone knew rafe.

“i’m sure i do. shoot.”

“no you don’t, honestly.”

“i probably do. just tell-“

“she already fucking said you didn’t know so give it a break.” a deep voice says from behind you and you already know who it is.

we both turn to see rafe. he’s wearing a long sleeve henley and dark wash jeans.

“come with me y/n.”

“what’re you doing here rafe?” you’re slightly annoyed yet slightly relieved because your conversation with preston was going nowhere.

“y/n. come with me.”

“no rafe.”

out of the corner of my eye, i can see kie approaching us.

“i said come with me y/n.” rafe is clearly fuming and you can tell he’s gonna snap.

“dude she said no.” preston says and you admittedly regret him saying that because in a blink of an eye, he’s off his barstool and on the floor due to rafe punching him.

the bar goes silent until one of prestons friends yells “what the fuck dude?”

“kie,ill be right back and preston i am so sorry .” you say angrily and grab rafes hand, pulling him out the bar.

once you’re both out on the sidewalk you shout, “what the fuck is your issue rafe? how’d you even know i was here?”

“kelce texted me saying he saw you here so i asked him to watch you.”

“you sound fucking insane rafe. we aren’t together. you fucking said you hated me.” you start and turn to walk away.

“where are you going?”

“away from you!”

as you walk, rafes hand snakes around uou, turning you to face him. “you drive me insane y/n.” rafe groans and smashes his lips into yours.

[l1fe1nf0cu5]

Ruddy Turnstones…

Preston Sands, Devon, UK

[fallout-fucker]

Fallout 4 really coulda made the 'Living by the sea' vibes so terrifying. Of course, people know of mirleurks and stuff. But what about the things they don't know about. The fear of the unknown.

We know that sea life was also affected by radiation. We've seen the size of a mirelurk queen. We know that sharks exist from the corpses.

So. How do we know megalodons aren't back in the Falloutverse. Or krakens don't exist. Sea life enlarged and at an unimaginable scale, unknown to the survivors of humanity as they lurk beneath the waters.

What if Sole had been told not to cross the ocean to Far Habour. What if there's a reason that, after 200 years, no one has brought back voyager boats and sailing the oceans to reconnect the world. What if they know better. Or maybe they realise they don't know anything at all.

What if Sole set up a nice base at Spectacle Island, and is confused when Hancock refuses to see it. Sole jokes that he's paranoid, but he reminds them he grew up on the waterfront. He helped his dad fish when he was younger. Boats don't scare him. The water doesn't scare him.

"It's what's in it," He explained coldly. He sat down in the sand, shotgun in his arms. Sole asked him to elaborate, he said he couldn't. "You wanna go after the Institute, fine. I'll help. That's an unknown I can handle. But, I ain't getting in that boat, and neither should you."

"I'll...Ask someone else."

"Can it be Danse?"

Sole thought he was being dramatic but quickly realised that none of the companions were keen to travel across the water.

There was that time Sole once jumped off the Prydwen and into the deep sea, so far from shore, only to hear a guttural noise around them. They couldn't see anything. The water dark blue, and filthy, almost black from when the world was scorched. But whatever it was, it was large enough that its voice vibrated through their entire being. They convinved themself it was a whale. They know whales don't sound like that.

On the days Sole is at the castle, they like to look out at the ocean. Or did, until today when they saw a large boat in the distance become capsized. They almost sent their own boats out to help, but Preston placed a firm hand on their shoulder. His eyes told Sole everything he wouldn't. Preston's not the type to let people die. So, Sole turned the radio up so none of the other soldiers could hear the distant screams for help and distress calls. And to drown out their own guilt, watching as the last fisherman attempted to swim desperately to shore, only to be dragged down below the waves. Sole didn’t look away until the boat finally sank. When they did, their eyes landed on the East Wall, which was under reconstruction from when the mirelurk queen had emerged. Sole wonders if that was even the largest sea creature out there.

When Sole's getting ready for bed, Preston knocks at their door gently. "Even I can admit when something is a lost cause," There was a guilt dripped into his tone. A silent apology to the fallen men. "I'll tell our guys to stay out of the water for a few days. We can rely on the nets for fish."

"We should set up a limit for how far out our boats can go."

"We will. Tomorrow. For now, get some rest." He's halfway to closing the door when Sole speaks again.

"I jumped off of the Prydwen once..."

"Excuse me?"

"I was fine. I wanted to go into the water. I did."

"Excuse me?"

"I couldn't see anything. But I heard something. I felt the sound go through me. I think it was a whale."

"Think or hope?" Sole doesn't say anything. Preston gets his answer regardless. "Was it close to you or do you think it was fine?"

"Think or hope," Sole mirrors. "I don't know. It was large."

"That seems to be a theme with the ocean."

"...Is that why no one has tried to cross the ocean again in 200 years? I thought...I thought there'd be pirates again out there. Or something. That massive wooden ships had made a comeback somewhere."

"I can't say. For all we know, maybe people have tried." Sole doesn't want to think about the connotations of that.

"No one wanted to go to Spectacle Island."

"I'm sure it looks nice but...To be honest, neither would I. I'm Sorry."

"It's fine. I get it now...I don't think I do anymore, for a while...John wouldn't get in the boat."

"Hancock...Is a smart man. Sometimes."

"Sometimes? You're saying that to the person that jumped off of the Prydwen."

"True, you do make Hancock look like Einstein."

"Thank God people still know Einstein," Sole mumbles. "John's smarter than he let's on."

"He once showed up to my door, drunk, asking if I thought Nick had a penis. Then, if he did, if it could be classed as a vibrator. I refused to answer or ask the context for why he wanted to know."

"...On that note, goodnight Preston."

"Goodnight, Sole."

Sole stares at the ceiling as they try to sleep that night. The sound of the waves crashing against the walls keeps them awake.

[theories-and-theorems]

So I recently saw a post (I apologize sincerely I can’t find it now) where the poster asked about Edwin sayin he was traded to something worse than a demon? What’s worse than a Demon?

At first I, like some of the commenters, thought the weird spider made of doll heads was the thing worse than a demon.

But the original poster had a great point, they said that the Night Nurse called the thing that snatched Edwin back to Hell a demon.

Which would imply that it’s not the thing worse than a demon…

So now I have thoughts 👀

(Now before I continue, I’ll admit that I haven’t read the dead boy detectives comics or watched them in Doom Patrol + I didn’t finish Sandman, so please keep in mind that what I’m about to say next may be way off).

So I wonder if the spider made of doll heads is also owned by the thing that’s worse than a demon? I say this because if it’s not what owns Edwin than why would it only focus on Edwin, for all those years, why wouldn’t it be hunting several souls all at once?

And if that’s the case, then why would this random entity set up this eternal torture system ?

There’s two possibilities that immediately come to mind.

One, the more obvious, entertainment. Something truly awful bought Edwin and then just watches him get torn to pieces, eaten, revived, town apart, eaten, revived. Maybe it’s just Edwin, maybe they have a bunch of souls and a bunch of weird demon creatures, and flips though the torture scenes like someone flipping through TV channels.

Or, perhaps less likely but still very interesting to consider, Edwin is being trained for something. This post here discusses how much faster Edwin is than everyone else, Ester full on destroyed another ghost with her machine but said that Edwin was far more durable than the average ghost and would be an endless supply of power due to his time in Hell…

Also, it’s possible Edwin’s more of a go-getter than me, but I wouldn’t think I could escape Hell, even if I was there as a sacrifice.

Could someone have told him it was possible? Implied it?

It’s almost feels like the time he spent in Hell was preparing him for something.

Since Dead Boy Detectives is in the same universe as Sand Man (seen with Kirby Howell-Baptiste playing Death and Donna Preston playing Despair) we know Hell has a hierarchy and we know there’s entities that play with the fates of humans (Death and Dream with Hob for example) it’s entirely possible that someone in Hell bought Edwin specifically for some reason we are not yet privy to.

It’s also entirely possible that Edwin is just that badass.

So, what do you think? Am I on to something? Or am I talking nonsense?

[electricshoebox]

The Eye of the Storm, Ch. 25

Sequel to: A Line in the Sand, it will make more sense to read that first.

Pairing: Deacon/MacCready, Minor/Background Preston/M!Sole Survivor Chapter Summary: Deacon sees this through to the end. Anthony has some words for the Institute. Fic Summary: Deacon’s just like any other spy trying to have it all: juggling multiple identities, on thin ice with his boss, spreading himself too thin, and trying to help save the world. Perfect time to be figuring how to be in a relationship, too. As the Institute’s shadow grows ever longer, Deacon tries to balance his life, his work, and his love, and figure out how to keep it all together. Chapter Warnings: Vague mentions of blood, bruises, and ongoing pain from injury, and a flashback to (extremely) minor character death without description. Noteworthy Tags: Established Relationship, Relationship Issues, Trust Issues, PTSD, Angst and Humor, Blood and Gore, Angst with a Happy Ending

I'm so sorry for another long wait. But Happy (slightly early) October 23!

[slocumjoe]

companions and their comfort foods

Cait; didnt care about food until Sole dragged her out of the Combat Zone. Sturges makes a tarberry cobbler that is to die for. It's lightly crisp, it's sweet, it's juicy; it's incredible. Once they get a reliable source of milk, and then cream, that cobbler is an orgasm in a skillet. It ends up being rather good for her mental health, too, as she starts going berry picking for it and makes friends with the farmers. It's also just a naturally soothing activity. It's hard to think about all your trauma when you're waist-deep in water, plucking berries off a bush.

Curie; Does tea count as food? A delicate Carrot Flower tea keeps her going wherever she is. She takes it with sap or, if lucky enough to forage or buy it, Stingwing honey. The tea itself has a slightly tart finish, almost citrusy. Curie takes it hot or iced, depending on the weather. It was one of the first things she tried after getting her synth body. For a meal, she really enjoys Preston's campfire cooking. Wants to find a working grill for him, Nick, and Danse to bond over. The act of cooking is a time-honored group activity, and goodness knows Preston and Danse neglect their emotional connections.

Danse; The standard Brotherhood rations wouldn't quite apply as 'comfort food', especially not after exile. Danse is utilitarian. he doesn't have a personal relationship with any specific food. But...Nick, despite not being able to drink it himself, makes the best coffee. Even with garbage grounds. A hot, strong cup of coffee in the morning is sometimes the only thing convincing Danse that it's worth waking up. Danse is usually the one cooking; he's gotten good at it over the years. Accidentally betters his relationship with everyone just because he makes decent food. Even Hancock is on his best behavior come breakfast.

Deacon; Cornbread and honey. Cornbread is one of the more common foods, at least in places where they can grind cornmeal. It's messy, it's drier than a desert, and it's pretty bland, but it's just...nice. There was a bar back in University Point that made it, and sitting by the ocean, watching the waves, and munching on some hot, buttery, honeyed cornbread is just such a simple pleasure, how could anyone not savor it? Preston makes the best cornbread now. Has intrusive thoughts of the sexual variety over it. No, Deacon, you don't have to do that to get cornbread. Preston isn't into that anyway, it wouldn't even work. Those pre-war 'films' lied to you, buddy.

Gage; He's a basic bitch. It's steak. Steak and mashed potatoes and a salty gravy. But he's picky. If you want a good steak, you'll want a fresh cut from a Brahmin. But good fucking luck finding Brahman steak. You can't kill the damn things just for the meat, because the milk you get is more valuable. One happy Brahmin can get you a lot of milk, which means a lot of cheese, butter, yogurt. It's a long wait until a cow gets old enough to butcher. Then, the owner might keep the meat to themselves. Gage is a raider, yeah, but he's busy. He can't keep tabs on every cow in the area to see what farm to raid for a fucking steak.

Hancock; Break. Fast. Sand. Wich. Mirelurk egg, grilled cram, cheese, tato...goddamn. God. Damn. One time he put mac and cheese on it instead of Brahmin cheese and it almost turned him religious. Hancock doesn't do sweet breakfast, thinks it's not 'mayoral-y'. He takes his sandwiches to, like, a rooftop, to just eat in silence and savor it. Gets really aggravated if interrupted. Also, guess who makes the best breakfast sandwiches? Danse. Fucking Danse. Life's just not fair, man. Also wants to get the guy a grill; maybe it would, like...help him chill. Give him a different personality.

MacCready; Sugar bombs! Sugar bombs! Sugar bombs! It's basically dog kibble for a twenty-year-old. He'll eat them dry, but he'll pay top cap for some milk. For some concerning reason, despite being 210+ years old, they're never stale. He doesn't care. A bowl of cereal and a comic book, or if Sole lends it, a Pipboy and video game, is an awesome way to start the day. It's a little Saturday ritual he tries to have with Duncan. Afterward, they go dig holes looking for X6's treasure. Gets excited whenever he sees X6 with mud on his boots; knows there's a patch of fresh, disturbed dirt out there somewhere.

Nick; Before, OG Nick loved himself a good lasagna. Currently, Nick gets his fix by helping Preston and Danse cook. Makes coffee the way Danse likes it, with a lot of sugar/honey. The others complain it's too strong and sweet, but the next best thing for Danse's mood would be to sneak chems in it. Obviously, Nick isn't going to do that. And he can't sneak it in Danse's own cup after brewing, because he'll notice, and criticize the waste of resources. A happy Danse is a tolerable Danse. Making Danse happy risks making Danse persnickety because Danse thinks joy and pleasure are selfish. Nick would pull his hair out if he had any.

Preston; Grew up in a Creole family that would sooner nuke the world a second time than give up their family recipes. The current Minutemen make a lot of dishes they've learned from Preston. He's pretty smug about it. His dad's cooking is near and dear to his heart, but his comfort food would be fruit salad. Mutfruit, melon, tarberry, and some canned fruit Sturges nabbed at a store before the raiders cornered them in Concord. It was the first meal he'd had in a while, and it meant they were finally safe. Now it triggers that relief whenever he has it. Makes it when he's anxious. If you notice cans piling up in Preston's trash, please check on him.

Piper; Would have said Takahashi's noodles, but after some time away from them, eating a wider variety of food, she likes them less. They're still good, but they used to be "I am a tired 20 year old who can't cook" good. Now they're just "I remember eating this a lot" good. Her actual comfort food would be s'mores. Piper's mom died when Nat was really little. Afterward, her dad paid for marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers whenever he could, and they'd sit around a campfire and enjoy while her dad told stories. Piper hasn't continued the tradition; it hurts too much, and Nat doesn't remember their parents anyway.

X6-88; didn't understand the concept of comfort food until traveling with these idiots. Still thought himself above it. But then...Piper handed him an innocuous, tiny package. "Gumdrops," she called them. Sour, faintly sweet. Coursers were fed a flavorless nutrient block. She noticed his interest. Snuck him similar things. "If you put this in cola, it explodes!" He tested it. It very much exploded, but the hard candy was still good. Then Deacon got in on the contraband, gave him a box of Dandy-Boy apples. Pre-war snack food was prohibited for its concerning nutritional value. The illegality made it all the more alluring. One thing lead to another, and now X6 has locked safes filled with candy, buried in the woods behind Sanctuary. The local children seek his treasure.

[fromthedust]

sand dunes - aerial view

Filthy Luker - aka Luke Egan (British) - Art Attack - street art

Elodie Antoine (Belgian, working in Brussels) - Chemisier aux yeux boutonnés (Blouse with Eye-buttons) - cotton blouse, print on textile - 2014

'Lovers Eyes' jewelry - originated in the 18th century - collection of David and Nan Skier

Damien Cadio (French, b.1975) - Cyclone eye - oil on canvas - 25x31 cm - 2017

glass eye from coffin - Egypt, Late Period (724-333 BCE)

Emilio Villalba (American, b.1984) - Red Eye

Gérard DuBois (French, b.1968) - Moby Dick

Nefertiti right eye (two views) - sculptor's portrait model - limestone, painted stucco, quartz, wax - the iris and pupil of the right eye made of beeswax dyed black, covered with a thin piece of polished rock crystal as a cornea - Egypt, Tell el-Amarna, New Kingdom, 18th Dynasty, c.1351–1334 BCE

Louise Bourgeois (French/American, 1911-2010) - Nature Study (Velvet Eyes) - 1984

Michael Hussar (American, b.1964) - Lovers Eyes

painted eye an Amazon - marble - Herculaneum - Roman, before 79 CF

cosmic eye (all-seeing eye, mystic eye) - poster

right eye from a Greek statue - marble, obsidian, glass, copper - 500–100 BCE

Rainer Kalwitz (German, working in Recklinghausen) - The Eye in the Abyss

Bro. William Preston (Scottish,1742–1818) - The Eye Of Providence

[scotianostra]

Happy 85th Birthday Scottish actor Ian McCulloch was born in Glasgow 18th November 1939.

After doing his national service in the army McCulloch studied at Oxford, during this time he started picking up acting roles and was almost kicked out as it was seen to be interfering with his studies, he knuckled down and completed his university degree. McCulloch admits finding it hard to pick up parts early in his career, he took anything he could, and was known to take operatic parts before being recommended to the Royal Shakespeare Company.

Another of those actors that you will know the face from many shows and films but might not recall his name, I remember him from a 70’s series my mum never missed, Survivors, where he played the enigmatic Greg Preston, McCulloch also wrote the final three episodes of the post-apocalyptic drama. Survivors was created by the man behind Dr Who, Terry Nation, so it won’t surprise you that McCulloch also starred in the episode Warriors of the Deep, the Doctor was played by Peter Davison. The episode is best remembered by cult television fans because the story featured quite possibly the most unconvincing monster in the history of the series.

He then starred in several notoriously violent Italian made horror films of the early 1980s that were part of the "video nasty" controversy within the UK. McCulloch was the male lead in the Romero inspired Zombie aka "Zombi 2" directed by Lucio Fulci, he was back battling more living dead in Zombie Holocaust aka "Dr Butcher MD" directed by Marino Girolami, and then McCulloch took on interplanetary invaders in the Alien rip-off Contamination, directed by Luigi Cozzi. I would think that by standard nowadays they would be pretty tame.

Ian McCulloch’s film credits are impressive playing supporting roles in Where Eagles Dare with the likes of Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood then Cromwell with Richard Harris and Alec Guinness but it was TV that he made a name for himself, Dr. Finlay’s Casebook, Colditz and Secret Army, as well as Survivors during the 70’s and in the 80’s, Diamonds, Bergerac, Childrens Ward and of course Taggart, as well as other Scottish shows, City Lights and The Tales of Para handy, McCulloch was never been short of work, however there has been nothing lately fro him and I assumed that he retired., but he turned up in a podcast of Survivors in 2016, and according to IMDB he is to feature in a film, The Witches of the Sands, which was due out this year, but apparently is still in production.

[anneapocalypse]

So. About Minfilia.

This one really got to me.

I don't think I've cried over a character death in this game like this since Haurchefant--both of whom, incidentally, I knew going in were going to die at some point, because I'd encountered spoilers well before I ever imagined I would play this game. (Having Ariane fall for both of them in turn was not the plan, it just happened along the way and felt right for her character, and the extra tragedy it ended up adding was a side effect but one that's become lode-bearing for her story in a lot of ways.)

So I'll say to start that given what the writers had to work with going into Shadowbringers, I think Minfilia's story ends about as well as it could have. The variant flow of time in the First, and specifically the fact that a century has passed there since she arrived, is vital to Shadowbringers' story. Minfilia was never meant to be an immortal being, nor did she want to be. And while there's probably an interesting AU in her becoming mortal again and returning home (and I could see myself writing something like that), that's a very involved concept that wouldn't have worked well with the story Shadowbringers was telling. So, her fate was sealed when she departed for the First. Furthermore the way she goes out is really thematically in line with the Scions as a whole, from Louisoix to Moenbryda to Papalymo: one person giving their life to contain an existential threat--not even to destroy it completely, but to slow the tide so that others can carry on the fight. And Minfilia even takes it a step further, managing to stick around in some form long enough for the other Scions to make it to the First. The Warrior of Light even gets to see her one last time, so her promise to return to them when her work was done--it wasn't an empty one. We get to say goodbye.

I'm okay with this. It's a decent end to her story, given where we started from this expansion.

That doesn't make me especially okay with how we got here, though.

I am still a sprout here, having just started playing last year and being mid-Shadowbringers for the first time now. I was not around when ARR was new, and cannot speak to the fan reception of Minfilia at the time. I have heard through my grapevine, however, that she was not well-liked. Whether because she was a non-combat character, a quest-giver in an annoying location, a woman who told people to do stuff while wearing a mildly revealing outfit (and I do mean mildly)... Idk what the dealbreaker was. That's just what I've heard. Having heard that, though, it makes the choice to write her out at the end of ARR feel... motivated, in a way that maybe it otherwise wouldn't.

There is nothing meaningfully wrong with Minfilia's character in ARR that couldn't be said about any of the core Scions.

Wahhh I don't want to return to the Waking Sands for the 80th time? Fair, but that's a game design issue getting taken out on a character who happens to be connected to it. Call it the Preston Garvey Problem. Her outfit is silly? It's hardly meaningfully sillier than other NPC outfit designs, or Final Fantasy fashion generally. Go tell it to the catgirls in the 2b tights by the aetheryte. She doesn't even fight? Honestly kind of refreshing to me to see non-combat characters play a major role in the story, because fighting isn't the only thing that drives stories! (Hey, didn't Tataru have a whole subplot about that?)

She's underdeveloped? Name me a character who gets great character development in ARR. (There is a correct answer to this question. It's Cid Garlond. 😛) But the Scions? A handful of them feel like very well-rounded characters now because they've had whole expansions that explored them as people and deepened their relationship to the setting and story in meaningful ways--Lyse, Alphinaud, Alisaie, Urianger, Y'shtola, Thancred. But none of them are well-rounded in ARR. ARR is not about character development. It's basically a very long tutorial level that gets you acquainted with the world, its major conflicts, and the major players in those conflicts. The character-driven storytelling really starts with Heavensward. If we truncated all the Scions' stories at the end of ARR, I don't think the others are any deeper than Minfilia.

I liked Minfilia right off because she was kind and caring, and she had an obvious talent for bringing people together, probably in a similar way to Louisoix himself. Hence her becoming the Antecedent and continuing to do diplomatic work across three nations. Did she make mistakes? Yeah, absolutely. Lest anyone is tempted to single her out in the Crystal Braves disaster, though, I will point to what I said in my post about how the Scions failed Alphinaud: every adult in the room should have seen the red flags about that, and not one of them did, including Urianger who is extremely protective of the twins, and Thancred who is extremely protective of Minfilia. And yes, she was in charge, and she does bear a greater share of the responsibility. But whatever you think of that plot point, whether it's leaning a little too heavily on Rule of Stupid or whether believable for a group of idealistic apocalypse survivors with martyr complexes, it's written as something that all the Scions failed to foresee. And for the others, especially for Alphinaud, that mistake and subsequent disaster is used as an opportunity for character growth. Alphinaud has to confront his own arrogance, which drives his character growth as he continues to play a major role in every expansion. Yda/Lyse and Papalymo get themselves involved with the Ala Mhigan resistance, providing the setup for Stormblood and a tremendous amount of character development for Lyse. Y'shtola in desperation turns to darker and more dangerous forms of magic, setting us up for her transformation into a black mage in Shadowbringers where will continue to see her turn to dangerous magics at desperate times. Thancred's wilderness survival journey precedes us getting to see a darker and lonelier side of him. And so forth.

Minfilia throws herself on Hydaelyn's mercy, and gets tempered. I mean, carried unto her bosom, granting her a strength long sought. Because of course we're meant to take it as a given that she was weak before. She was the leader of an international organization who did diplomatic work across three nations, but she couldn't throw fireballs or hit people good with a stick, so. She loses her very will for a while there, until Hydaelyn mercifully decides she's strong enough to give it back to her.

And now, no one talks about the work she did as the Antecedent, or with the Path of the Twelve before that. It's all about her noble sacrifice, how she gave up her whole life to save the First. And she was noble, and generous, and a hero. But she was a person before that, and she could have been more. She could have been a character with a real arc, who got to struggle and learn from her mistakes and grow with us, as the others have.

Minfilia didn't get that. She got to be a sacrificial vessel for the salvation of others, over and over again until there was none of her left. And we never have to reckon with her feeling scared or uncertain or angry about this, because she is always the willing sacrifice, always noble and generous and a hero. Shadowbringers spends far more time on Thancred's feelings about Minfilia than on Minfilia's feelings about her own fate. And I do like Thancred, so please don't read this as me hating on him; I even liked getting more of their history onscreen, at first. But at a certain point I just wanted to shake him and say, You are not the only one who loved her! And your feelings about her are not the only thing that matters here!

I love characters who are deeply and deliberately kind, especially when they have a history that gives them plenty of reasons to be otherwise. I love characters with a passion and drive to make their world better, even when that comes at great cost. It's why I love Julie Farkas, and Vanessa Kimball. But I also like to see how they reckon with the cost, how they struggle with the burden of that kindness. I love it when Kimball loses her temper, when she isn't patient and virtuous all the time. We do finally get some of that with Ryne. But not for the original Minfilia. She goes gently into that good night with gentle words and a gentle smile. And yes, after a hundred years, she has earned a rest.

But having loved her gentle soul from the beginning, I am mourning what she could have been, if she had ever been allowed to be anything else.

[hawkepockets]

i’ve said this before but EA wyll gifsets—including some of his most arrogant cut lines, his attitude toward goblins, and the vibe that he might be a simple monster hunter faking at being a folk hero—are what made me want to play bg3, so sanding down his sharp edges to appease players who were never going to favor the Black companion rly puzzles me as a marketing decision. i was actually excited that (with all my love to preston & liam) bg3 seemed to promise a Black man companion/LI with a role more thorny & complex than “good-natured community man.” it’s not like i don’t find him compelling now, but like. i knew nothing about their game except that u could woo the warlock, and larian had me at “im one of a kind >;)”

DAE download the game because of him can we talk about it

[taylor-tut-fics]

Hi!!!! i love ur camp camp fics and would DEVOUR cranky david if u offered him!!!! let my boy complain lord knows he deserves it 😩

THANK YOUUUU omg. I personally don't feel like this fic is the best. it's a little short and i had trouble connecting some of the scenes. but it's written, and that's what counts. maybe you'll like it!! i sure hope you do!! and thank you for always encouraging me! it means a lot!! :)

“David, can you get Preston to stop painting the walls?”

“Sure, why don’t I do everything?” he mutters. Gwen rolls her eyes and takes a deep breath. She’s been dealing with this all day. The first time he’d snapped at her, she’d thought she misheard. Surely, her sweet, cherubic David wouldn’t say something rude. Of course, it had happened again, then again. When pressed about it, he’d told her that he just wasn’t feeling well. He’d apologized, which had assuaged her anger and replaced it, temporarily, with sympathy. Both of those things dried up when the snippy attitude didn’t stop. 

She’s seen David not feeling his best before. From heat, from a cold once. He always gets quiet, but she’s never seen him like this. He’s slow, dragging, crabby. Though she understands he doesn’t feel well, she’s losing patience. 

“Watch it.”

“Sorry,” he rasps, coughing wetly into his elbow. It brings back what little sympathy she still has for him. It makes her worry a tiny bit, too. It doesn’t sound so good. “I just don’t have the energy for all this.” 

The only reason he’s pushing himself like this is for her benefit, she tries to remember. These demons are not a one person job and he knows it. If he had his way, he’d be sleeping off whatever flu bug he’s caught, but he’s afraid (rightfully so) that if he leaves them alone, the kids will smell her fear and use the opportunity to burn down the camp. Even just having him weakened is inviting chaos, so she can’t imagine how bad it would be if he checked out. Still, she could live without the attitude. He’s even been a little terse with the kids, though certainly not outright rude like he’s been to her. 

“If you need a break, say so,” she says a little pointedly. Though she knows he’s not going to take her up on it, she has to remind him that he’s allowed to take a break because if he continues on like this, she’s going to lose her goddamn mind. She expects him to ignore her like he has all day, but he sighs. 

“Actually, could I take a few minutes? I need to catch my breath.” 

It strikes her as odd. Either he senses that he’s actually ticked her off, or he’s feeling worse than earlier, sand she’s willing to bet it’s a little of both.

“Uh, sure. I can handle this for a minute’. You okay?” 

Upsettingly, he shrugs, then nods. “Just a little dizzy.” 

That doesn’t make her feel any better, but she doesn’t have time to ask follow up questions before he’s dragging himself out of the mess hall. 

“Max, follow him,” she commands. “Come get me if he starts dying.” 

Max groans and grumbles for a while about the order. For so long, in fact, that by the time he finally does get outside, he has to search for David. He assumes he’s going to find him reinvigorating himself in nature by smelling a flower or hugging a tree, but that’s not the case. Instead, he can’t find him at all. 

“David?” he calls, but gets nothing in response. He checks the picnic benches by the mess hall and David’s favorite tree. Just when he’s running out of places to look, he thinks of a long shot: the counselor’s cabin. David probably wouldn’t choose an air-conditioned, sunless, treeless place for his break, but he’s running out of places to look. He pushes open the door and is surprised to find David on the couch, lying on his back with his eyes shut. 

“David?” 

He blinks, clearly already almost asleep. He must really be exhausted. “Max? What are you doing here?” 

“Gwen wanted me to make sure you don’t die.” David rolls his eyes, then forces a smile. 

“I’m fine. I just need a minute to myself, if that’s okay.” 

Max kicks his feet up on the armchair and sits. “Knock yourself out. I’m gonna play Gwen’s Switch.” He has his own save file on her Stardew Valley game and she knows it. For some reason she never deletes it even though she’s banned him from playing. 

David takes a full 15 minutes to recover. He sets an alarm on his phone and Max is pretty sure he actually falls asleep. His breathing evens out and he looks less miserable than he has all day, not that he’s been paying attention. When the alarm goes off, he groans, stops the sound, and rubs his hands over his face. Max has never seen him so tired. 

“Hey,” he says despite instantly regretting showing concern, “are you okay? Because you seem not okay.” 

Gwen had told him to make sure he’s alive, after all, and he can’t do that if David is pushing himself this hard. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that this camp isn’t worth this kind of effort. He’d love to see David give up and throw in the towel. He’d be able to hold it against him, possibly for the rest of the summer. 

“Of course,” he lies. “I’m just not feeling my best today.”

“You know you can just pawn us off on Gwen, right? Phone it in and give up?” 

David shakes his head. “I’m okay. I promise. I’ll just go to bed a little early today.” 

“Your funeral,” Max shrugs. Still, he walks behind David all the way back to the mess hall and a part of him knows it’s to ensure his safety, just like Gwen had asked. 

It’s an excruciating several hours until dinner. Usually, torturing David is Max’s main source of entertainment, but it’s not fun if he’s already maxed out on suffering. Without that to distract him from camp activities, he’s left only with Gwen’s botched knot tying lecture, and he’s not into it one bit. At least David would be delivering it with a mockable passion. Gwen’s just barely managing to read the words on the page in front of her. David’s notes, no doubt, but he’s got the spiel memorized. The only reason she’s giving it over him is because his voice is barely audible. 

Even shivering with fever chills, coughing terribly, and barely clinging to wakefulness, David is alert enough to correct her on misinformation. It’s driving her nuts. By the time she’s gotten to the demonstration, she’s ready to fight him. She doesn’t even care how sick he is. She’ll throw hands, anyway. 

“You don’t hold it like that,” David interrupts harshly. Her eye twitches.

“Thank you, David,” she says, breathing measuredly. 

“You didn’t pay attention when I showed you how to do it.” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“So how do you expect to—”

“David,” she curtails, “do you want to teach the lesson?” 

He flushes redder than he is already. “I—well, I wish I could, but—”

“Then stop correcting me. No one is paying attention to this shit, anyway.” His face falls. Great, now he’s embarrassed and crushed. She regrets being so harsh. “I know you want everything to be perfect all the time, but until you’re back on your feet, you’re gonna have to live with it, because I’m trying my best.” 

Though she’s prepared for an argument, she watches him deflate a little, staring at the ground in defeat. 

“Sure. Okay. Go ahead.” 

Despite how pathetic he looks about it, she’s happy to be able to finish the lecture before dinner is ready, if only barely. She leaves him to clean up while she does the more strenuous job of getting the kids fed and seated while also making sure none of them kill one another. 

Unfortunately, though, she’s not able to prevent madness from descending. She’s already lost control when David stumbles into the room, looking sweaty and unsteady. It’s not that she doesn’t care—she just doesn’t notice. Max does, though. He sees everything. Even though he can’t stand David, he’s a perceptive kid and can tell when things aren’t right. Apparently, so can the other campers. 

“David?” Harrison calls. He takes a moment before registering that he’s been beckoned, and when he does, he looks a little peeved about it. “Maybe you should sit down.” 

“Before you fall down,” Max adds. He shakes his head. 

“No, I’m—what’s going on here?”

“The usual. You and Gwen are both useless, so we’re taking advantage of the opportunity.” He doesn’t react to the jab, which, combined with the pallor of his face and the fact that he’s visibly shaking, proves that something is very wrong. Something worse than the cold he’s been fighting all day. Max glances at Gwen to see how she’s reacting only to realize that she’s not even paying attention to his misery. It takes her a long time to glance up for long enough to see that David is in the room, and even then, she isn’t really looking at him. If she were, it would be obvious that he’s fairing poorly. 

“I need help,” she begs. “They’re monsters.” David doesn’t even appear to register the plea. He’s focusing all his energy on balancing on his feet. He looks like he’s about to fall down, possibly dead. 

“Gwen,” he calls weakly, “I need a break. I’m feeling lightheaded.” 

“That’s great, David,” she says offhandedly, not listening. “Nurf, utensils are a privilege, and I will take them away from you!” 

He can’t stop watching David, who staggers over to the empty counselor’s bench and braces himself against it. It gives him a sense of foreboding. 

“Uh, Gwen?” Max asks. She doesn’t have time to deal with that right now.

“Not now, Max. Space Kid, get down from there!” 

As she fishes him down from where he’s dangling from the fan, David clutches his forehead, his eyes fluttering dangerously. 

“I’m serious. I think I need to go lie down.” Max isn’t sure she even hears it.

“Are you gonna give me a hand here?” she demands. David forces himself forward, but he instead runs directly into Gwen’s back. 

“Hey!” she exclaims when she spills the mug of tea she’s holding, whirling on him angrily just as he slumps forward. For the first time all day, she’s actually got a good look at him, and she doesn’t like what she sees. His blinks are long and slow, and he’s swaying. “David?” she calls, but before she realizes she needs to reach out and grab him, he drops. 

The chatter of the mess hall stops at once, Space Kid still swinging from the ceiling. She kneels down to his side and shakes his shoulder, but he doesn’t respond. 

“Oh, shit. Hey, David, come on. Wake up.” She taps a worryingly hot cheek. “Crap. That’s not good.” 

“Step aside,” Max says, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve got this.” He slaps David’s face so hard he has to wind up. It does absolutely nothing but leave a red mark. This is not the same unconsciousness as when he’d taken a nap on the couch earlier. He’d really fainted. They’d pushed him too far. 

“Don’t do that!” she scolds. “Okay. This is going to be fine. Nikki, get a wet cloth. He’s burning up. Harrison, get the first aid kit. Have Nerris help you.” 

The children disperse. Neil and Ered go off in search of water and fruit snacks for when he wakes up. David stays unconscious for longer than Max is comfortable with. Gwen has to run the cool dishcloth against his face and neck for several minutes before he blinks awake. 

“Hi,” she greets softly. “Are you with me now?” 

“I—what happened?” 

Hi words are still slightly slurred, but that appears to be from exhaustion rather than a sign they need to go to the hospital.“You passed out a little. How do you feel?” 

He looks to be on the brink of tears and forces the palms of his hands to his eyes, clearly upset to be so out of it. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Okay, okay. In a minute. We need to take your temperature first.” She forces the thermometer on him and waits for the beep. When the number appears, it makes her look nervous. “God, David; I’m sorry. You should have just stayed in bed today.” 

“I wanted to help.”

“Only because you knew I didn’t want to deal with this all on my own.” She extends a hand to help him sit up. “Think you could stand if I help you?” 

He considers this. “Maybe give me a minute.” 

The kids are quiet, well-behaved, even, as he sips his water and waits for his head to stop swimming enough that he won’t faint again if he stands. After a few minutes, he decides he’s feeling well enough to try. Gwen gets him to his feet where he wavers, but manages to stay upright. 

“Kids, I’m going to be gone for 10 minutes. If you’re not in these exact positions when I get back, no one gets dessert for a week.” 

She half drags David back to the counselor’s cabin and sets him on the edge of his bed. While she fishes around for something more comfortable he could change into, he climbs beneath the sheets. By the time she turns around with a set of sweatpants and a t-shirt in hand, he’s already snuggled up tight. She smiles. 

“Guess you’re pretty tired, huh?” 

“A little.” He stares down at his hands. “I’m sorry for being so crabby all day.” 

“Are you kidding? I’m the one who owes you an apology. I ignored you.” 

“I was being difficult.” 

“You were being bitchy, but it doesn’t matter. You’re my friend. I should have been paying attention.” She doesn’t often call him that, and it makes him smile. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you once I get the kids to bed, but call me if you need me. Think you could eat something if I brought it to you?”

The thought of food makes his stomach churn. “I’m not hungry. Maybe later.  

“Thanks, Gwen.” He rolls over and shuts his eyes, thankful for quiet for the first time that day. He falls asleep almost immediately.